on a quiet Sunday afternoon. Sitting in my new red deck chair, taking in pieces of my daily life, and havintg a 'think'. Most parts of my little kingdom are pleasant, this is no exception. It is, after all, whatever I make of it.
Ebby, my ever ready companion asserts herself on bird patrol. If we had squirrels, she'd be chattering at them as she does when they are on the tv screen...LOL
Looking west from the side yard, the storms of this morning appear to be returning with more rain. But a nice rural setting all the same *VBS*
And the panarama view, the twinhomes across the street, proclaiming "progress" is all around us. But if you listen carefully when the wind is from the northwest, you can still hear the lowing of the cows at pasture, and the faint tinkle of the cow bells as they trudge home for the evening milking. I hear that as plainly as I hear the ringing of the old school bell in the belfry, or the long low whistle of the midnight train as it passes through town. Not this town, but one to the east, and years ago.
And that is what the 'think' has been about today...long thoughts about memory. Not specifically 'memories', but memory itself. If we are born healthy, with normal human circumstances, it comes built in. I can't speak for those who have special circumstances. I can speak for no one but myself here. I wonder where the memory begins? With birth? Before?
We express hunger and get fed, and remember. We are uncomfortable or frightened and express that through crying, and get comforted, and remember. And repeat what got us what we needed.
Memory seem to grow as we do, building on that early foundation, the brain becoming more and more complex, capable of more and more.
We seem to be 'built' to remember, to be able to learn and remember what we learned and apply it to future learning. Remembering pleasure, remembering pain. And in human fashion we keep everything, even what we no longer need or want. It would be nice to be able to "dust bust" out stuff we no longer want or need. Age accomplishes some of that, but much remains, laid aside like outgrown garments. And then we come across it again, and remember anew. Not always happily.
I watched a new(or newer)made for tv movie last evening on Hallmark channel, "A Valley of Light", and it was excellent. It was set at the end of WW2, an excellent cast and a touching story of returning home(supposedly)and finding everything you remembered changed or gone. And moving on, to find another place "to be". Painful to be the viewer and watch from the very safe distance of my front room. And what occurred to me, as he found the "valley of light", was why don't we "sieze" the moment, take in the beauty, the solitude, the quiet gentle nature of a "place" and be content. What I realized is that everything is(or can be)colored by that good old friend of ours, memory. Or maybe more specifically, memories.The demons who drove him to 'search', came along with him.
And I thought, "if that's the case, why not apply this new realization to the shadows that crowd out the beauty, tranquility and peace of my little kingdom?? A good question to think about.