I am beginning to realise that my memories are not wholly my own as I share them on this blog, extruded into the biosphere I am reminded of details I had forgotten or mislaid, or filed under NOT currently important, sometimes “no it wasn’t like that, it was like this”. This has been a welcome poke, and an irritating incursion into my version of my reality, (paradox alert). When I am inspired to write a post it is usually one tiny fragment of memory , a fleeting glimmer in the minds eye of an experience I had, while jaunting around life. Then like an old fashioned pink sugar floss spinner I whirligig it up on a stick to go.
When I go on to explore it further I’m always surprised at where it takes me. A completely holistic account is undesirable, like a literal truth, as I am chasing moods and feelings which are picked from the smorgasbord of my own making to express something truly my own . Other peoples memories of the experiences shared with me are solely theirs. Gosh this sounds like a bit of a moan…but…no I like all the feedback, what ever it makes me feel, the twisting and reflection it can cause is healthy and welcome, so thanks one and all, but it leads on to another similar dynamic.
it reminds me that when listening to others the/my ego just can’t help but insert itself; try to muscle in and take over (instead of being an exploration of the storytellers experience, it veers off too soon to the “listener “… )
A poignant example is in my parenti role, my child would be expressing their self, often unhappily, and I would leap up to “Dial that down to Perfect“, all in the blink of an eye. Result; boy shut down, the feeling he was so tenderly trying to express trampled in motherly love, protection and guilt? No question about it. Self serving Motherfucking guilt. I feared hearing his words. Those little drops of magical nectar which recalibrate relationships, soak into the psyche, refreshing healing old wounds and fears and incursions. From our narcissistic child selves to emotionally intelligent light beings all in the blink of an eye.
(Turned out I needn’t have worried tho’ he thinks I did a great job)