The Things We Forget

This morning I searched and searched for the time needed to compose a quality post for you, but alas none was to be found. I have to rush to work for a twelve hour rendezvous with madness, so this is the best I can offer.

I hope you don’t mind, Gwen.

Gwen is a blogging buddy of mine. We have many things in common – our religious upbringing, family craziness, and a love of writing. Her’s blows my mind.


In her latest post, she shares about The Persistence of Memory. Here’s a snippet:

It seems that so much of what we remember about our past are those dramatic moments, moments more likely to contain rage and pathos and passion than calmness or happiness or boredom. Do we remember those things because they make good stories and retelling the tale makes it stick? Or do we truly prefer to think of ourselves as living from thrilling adventure to animal despair?

Do yourself a favor. Click on the link, either the title of her post above, or her site “Woman on the Verge” in my blogroll. You won’t recover quickly.

Gwen, you’re one of my blogging heroes. Thanks for your prodding and honesty.

Now I’m off to work.


2 thoughts on “The Things We Forget

  1. I have a book length collection of short stories about my childhood. While I was writing them, I realized that they were all stories with some degree of sadness in them and that realization sent me looking for positive things and happy times to write about. I did find some. I found more that were neutral than the happy ones but I did find some things that were not bad, sad, or negative.

    I don’t know why it is that we do that. I think perhaps our mind just registers the things that are disappointments or sad to us, more than the happy times. I think if we search our memory while we are in a good, happy mood, we’ll find the times that were happy for us.

  2. Agreed. Smiles fade, depending on who does the smiling, but a frown lasts forever.

    Now that I have a moment, I also wanted to mention that I posted this because Gwen’s words resonated with me, especially as I work on this “living memoir.” As I pick nuggets of memory to write about, how many are positive compared to the negative? I try to mix it up, but I often get stuck dwelling on those things that suck a bit.

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