Shattered Memories

Each day of our lives, we shatter our memories.  

Literally, we shatter them.

As a child I imaged my mind as equivalent to a bookshelf, where each memory or event might be found neatly bound as whole and filed away for future reference.  The authentic process of cognition and memory recall, however, is far from such a straightforward process.  Fact is, we don’t even store so much as the image of a barking dog as whole.

We remember everything in bits and pieces.  The recollection of a dog, for example, might be stored in a dozen locations within our brain.  The color of the dog might be lodged in on spot, the sound of its bark in another, the feel of fur located  in yet a third location.  To view the dog again, to make the memory whole, our brain must gather and reassemble all the parts for meaningful presentation.  And so it is with all things—that our thoughts and reasoning are really a constant and systematic gathering and scattering and gathering again of information.  Within us, all things of value lay shattered like a broken mirror.  Dog parts heaped in a pile with an automobile fender.  Your grandmother’s hair nesting with the scent of an orange.

As you read through this, what images did you assemble in your own mind?

What memories did you shatter against the walls of recognition?

--Mitchell Hegman