From the Horse's Mouth

dust to…

Posted in Mind Goo by theskinhorse on September 2, 2009

I share my dreams with loved ones; it has been something that I do regularly for as long as I can remember… which my have an expiration date of somewhere around 17 years.  It is odd; I can remember my dreams and visions, worlds detached from this Earth and characters from the aether more clearly than my own childhood. Sure, I know the neighborhood in which I lived from 4-11 years old. I can recall names of friends and classmates (a few at least). I can recall some of my pets, some holidays, some key moments in development perhaps. Most of these memories have photos, names, dates and other people to help me construct the memories years after the events. I recognize them as construction or fabrication, not memory. I’ve seen that picture of me on a particular bicycle with a basket (was it Snoopy?) and handle-tassels so I know I have ridden it. I’ve seen pictures of me out on the patio with my grandfather while he was sleeping, but I don’t remember that moment, that day, that time, his way of sleeping, that dress I was wearing, what season it was, that patio furniture; it all eludes me every time, no matter how much I want that memory. I can identify myself in pictures from elementary school, but I never remember the picture days, the classroom activities, which students I liked or didn’t like. What did my second teacher look like? I don’t remember even though I spent the entire year in that class. What was I for Halloween in fifth grade? I am not sure, most likely a male (or male-inspired) character.

I have precious one or two memories barely accessible of my maternal grandparents. I have clips of interactions with my parents and my brothers. Most of my time spent with friends escapes me. Most of the time I spent in the house or playing outside escapes me. The vivid (though perhaps disjointed) memories from childhood involve the night, dusk outside, my bedroom and our basement. I remember more of what was in my head than the experiences with the outside world. I can recall details from cartoons and movies I saw as a child more clearly than my own life, but, again, perhaps this is fabrication after-the-fact when re-visiting these programs and videos.

I don’t remember when I learned to ride a bike. The faces of the boys I had crushes on are almost completely wiped from my mind. I don’t really remember what it was like to wake up for Christmas as a child; I imagine I know what it is like.

Time is the Great Wash for me. I don’t think I understand or experience it as many others do.

The lack of remembering is never meant to hurt those around me, but sometimes it does. Though I wish they could know how much I would like to remember if I only could. I feel as though I am torn between those feelings and the thoughts that say that the way of my brain with Time and memory is another part of what makes me who I am. Would I be as ready and willing for changes and transformations if I had a better memory? Would I have more or less psychological ‘issues’ or ‘problems?’ What about my world would change if I could remember more of my past?


2 Responses

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  1. gypsy-heart said, on September 6, 2009 at 8:55 am

    Sometimes remembering the past causes “psychological ‘issues’ or ‘problems’ Who knows which way is best, but either way we are what we are. I think the key is learning to embrace who and what we are and move on. I see a beautiful energy in your writings, and it does not matter to me how “you came to “BE”…

    I am intrigued (often consumed) by “what was before” my scattered memories..and “what will be” after this time is done. I was told I am a very old soul, and I have always felt such..even as a child. Maybe that explains why at times…I do not feel I belong in this world.

    Well, this could go on forever (hmmm…I like that…:) I thank you for BEing in my reality.

    Good and creative energies to you,


    • theskinhorse said, on September 7, 2009 at 9:26 am

      I have had many conversations on BE-ing, and, depending on the circle at the time, themes like memory, identity, ego, name/title, and position seem to come up either explicitly or implicitly. There are times when I feel my experience is a lonely one; many others I know seem to be able to recall far more. Of course, one can always say that one’s experience (no matter what it happens to be) is always a lonely one, by definition. I am comfortable in my skin, how it formed and the “I” that is in it, but, often, my validity of knowledge or insight is questioned by others because I cannot quote, I don’t remember the reference or teacher, etc. Of course, this is where I smirk and wonder if I am actually ‘remembering’ at all, in the human sense of the word.

      Processing, synthesis, application, and assimilation are not the same as memory. Human language and associative states become linked together.

      Thank you for your encouraging words and sharing. ‘Old souls’ (or perhaps ‘experienced’ ones) seem to gravitate to each other. The lines between dreams and memories becomes ever more intriguing when the subject of past-present-future lives becomes part of the mix. Thanks to the infinite mysteries and tricks that Time has, we can swim through its circuits and axons and see so many of Our Selves if we so choose. There are so many potentials within one lifetime, imagine how many are possible in two, ten, one-hundred.

      We assume ‘old soul’ means that we’ve lived previous lives in a linear timeline. What do we call those from future timelines, ones born out of potentials, ones that relive this lifetime? How many times have you been yourself as you are now, with that face and perhaps that name… maybe in another city right now (at this corresponding moment), maybe with different pets and different health? Possibility is sister to the Endless.

      And, as always, light and laughter to you.

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