Mind Travels

Memories

A memoir, as defined by the Merriam-Webster dictionary, is a narrative composed from personal experience, an account of something noteworthy, a record of memories.  But, as psychologists have proven time and again, memories can change spontaneously over time, as a product of how, when, and why we access them. And, the more emotion we attach to a memory the more likely we will add false details without realizing it.  So, it's pretty clear to me that when I tell my memories, they sometimes resemble less than the reality of what actually occurred.   To write a memoir is to create Mind Travel. Like physical travel, you remember most the best and the worst parts, while the rest gets lost in fog of time.

If the purpose of sharing our memories is self-aggrandizing ego boosting like that done by politicians, celebrities, self-help  gurus, and, of course, business wizards, then they're not worth listening to 90% of the time.  However, if the memories weave a compelling story of life experience;  if we can gain insights into our own experience that enriches our thinking and actions, then the memoir can an important source of learning.  The 2012 Iris Murdoch's memoir written by her husband John Bayley is an excellent example of  Mind Travel that changed my thinking about aging. The biography of Kathryn Graham by Debra Davis was a first to give me insights into the struggles of my mother's generation.

So, here I sit today, an aging boomer, thinking about writing a memoir. My purpose - certainly not an self-aggrandizing ego boosting effort to build my "brand," to use today's terminology.  I'm thinking more along the lines of a humorous brain dump collection of Mind Travel to make readers laugh or cry, as the case may be.  However, that path may have rocks in the road, depending on your perspective.

For example, here are some potential rocks in my memoir road.  I've got this early memory of my first trick or treat excursion with my dad and grandpa at age 5. I am sure I was the cutest kid, ever.  Then, there's the horrid memory of the mangle iron my mother used to press my dad's shirts. That one convinced me to never iron a man's shirt, ever. Or the ghastly experience of measles at age 8 (or was it 10?) that gave me such hallucinations that I never took "trippy" drugs, ever.

As a pseudo grownup, there's the drama of not asking both my sisters to be in my first wedding.  This resulted in one sister who didn't speak to me for several years.  I confess that I was a bitch for making that most self-centered decision and I apologized some years later. And, of course, there are longer stories such as the saga of my first three short-lived marriages to men who were, at the time, either a dominating bully, a passive-aggressive nice guy, or an alcoholic disguised as a dynamite sailor.  I finally cured that problem through extended therapy with at least three therapists. Is there a pattern here, perhaps?  And with people still alive, I can't share some memories of those early years. It's just not a nice thing to do.

I mean really-- the only insight I can provide by stitching together these youthful memories along with many others is that while it was an adventurous time, it was also tumultuous and an extremely boneheaded time on my part. Just too many rocks in the memoir Mind Travel road.

If not a memoir, perhaps I should I just write a Mind Travel fiction using my memories as touch points for an invented story.  It would certainly be a safer narrative, allowing the reader to guess which are memories and which are inventions, while simultaneously protecting me from my more embarrassing experiences and decisions.  And, I wouldn't have to worry about the accuracy of my memories, which, as I stated earlier, are definitely selective, distorted and full of TMI.

In either case, no matter which path I choose, Mind Travel for me will be an excursion, an adventure relived.