The repetition of experience re-minds us that “I”, more often than not, forget. We won’t remember unless we participate in some regular repetitive form of remembering, what is often referred to as a discipline, a practice, or a ritual. Daniel Budd
-from The Daily Stillness. (2 min read) I know this is the second post inspired by that website, and that’s ok. These few lines, combined with reading Kate Bowles post and all the comments, and getting ready for a run all made me think. Her post is completely beautifully written and the comments reflect on
reflecting (verging on metacognition, I love that) – about being left-handed. I am left handed so it is curious when people who aren’t take the time to consider it. This is not about left-handedness, but about taking the time to consider.
The quote reminded me of a passage in a book that I read in High School. I can’t remember the book but I remember that I wanted to remember the passage forever. There was a girl hugging her grandpa and she wouldn’t let go. He asked what are you doing, child? and she replied, I’m making a memory, Grandpa. The author went on to describe the mix of pipe smoke and mint that hung around the grandpa and how she felt the roughness of his overcoat on her cheek as she held him tight. Making a memory.
So I began thinking about thinking. I am really just about to go for a run and before sitting down to type (haven’t run yet) I thought, ‘yes. the summer is the time I can sort out my mind and really think. I will remember this.’
Why is it that the rest of the year should slip by? Because as opposed to today when I am physically running, sometimes it is easy to mentally run. I see the scenario in my mind’s eye a video or a few seconds of film – of someone running and the background is going by so quickly, with too much detail to take in, breathless – and then suddenly the camera focus swaps, and like a freeze-frame they are still, although they continue running, but they can look around and are aware. Present. Even running, there can be stillness.
That’s what it takes to stop and make a memory. Presence. Conscious activity. Being here. Yes, moments go by, but in rehearsing them the essence that was important in that moment can be retained, like being in an MRI and thinking about playing an instrument, and the brain fires the synapses. (gosh, I am thinking about cello now too) It is important to remember in so many different moments. A few days ago I was honoured to be at a wedding and it was a fantastic celebration and it reminded me how important it is to remember and celebrate others, as well as the things in our own lives.
Nineteen years ago I promised my troth. We’re going to celebrate that.
-I can say I have been tidying up a lot and am still looking for that troth, I’m not sure if we ever actually exchanged troths, and slightly wonder if it was an ancient typo and maybe it was supposed to be ‘truth’. I give thee my truth. That would make a good vow.
I am left-handed too – that’s why I get a kick out of doing that ice-breaker and allowing the lefties to still write with their left hands. It reminds us lefties how every physical object in our world is NOT designed for us (from old design oven mitts to doors to every tool almost) in most parts of the world. Do you play cello as a leftie or rightie?
(sorry I just focused on a teeny aspect of your post)
You make me smile Maha!! I play the cello the way everyone else does – and they call it right handed, but I think it is actually easier for lefties! The left hand is the one with all the intricate motion and the right arm just flops on the bow and swings back and forth. It makes for an interesting example of how preconceptions of what is easy or hard can influence before people necessarily look at the task demands. I’m not very popular with left-handed guitarists when I tell them I think it is easier the ‘right-handed’ way….maybe the first string players were left handed, or there was some cultural reason for holding a violin on that shoulder or guitar on that side? You are so right though, that things are designed a certain way, and if you don’t fit that model… well… I usually get a step-stool 😉