On Memory
“The word ‘innocence’ means ‘incapable of being hurt’. To have a mind that is not capable of being hurt, does not mean that it has built up a lot of resistance - on the contrary, such a mind is dying to everything that it has known in which there has been conflict, pleasure and pain. Only then is the mind innocent; that means it can love. You cannot love with memory, love is not a matter of remembrance, of time.”
One aspect of having siblings I’ve grown to enjoy is our unique perspectives on past events.
As we age and develop our ideas of family, we relive and recant our childhood memories. Sometimes, the stories are extravagant; other times, they are pretty ordinary. No matter what we retell, the consistent element is the particular slant or contrary frame of reference.
Our ages are a significant factor, as my littlest sister is eleven years younger than me. This may have affected how we assimilated the event and created meaning. Our interpretation is also affected by our current place in the world, including individual experiences, beliefs, and dreams.
Every experience is conditioned by the past experience. So there is no new experience, it is always colored by the past. In the very process of experiencing, there is the distortion which comes into being from the past, the past being knowledge, memory, the various accumulated experiences, not only of the individual, but also of the race, the community. ― Jiddu Krishnamurti
Memory is one of the topics Krishnamurti addresses. From what I have read, listened to, and watched, this is my interpretation of his process:
Knowledge is accumulated through experience. Our memories are created through this knowledge. From what we think we know (knowledge) based on our past actions (experience), we create beliefs (theories/ideas) and then act (intention) from this awareness.
Our actions are limited if they are rooted in our memories of what was and our previous experiences as the world evolves.
This is one of the reasons that contributed to the sinking of the Titanic. The ship's captain was making decisions and drew a conclusion based on his decades of experience. He did not react to the iceberg warnings or the boat's speed because he did not understand; his awareness of the outcome was limited despite the alerts.
Our memories inform how we move forward, what we think, feel, and believe, and, ultimately, how we act. Therefore, what we remember profoundly influences the form and context of how we live. Consious or not, recollections are one of the most significant drivers of how act presently!
What will you remember of 2024? What memories will you hold in your bank of treasures? What do you want to feed your brain? How do you want to be influenced today by what you remember?
I’ve chosen a monthly highlight that captures the essence I want to recollect from last year. Here is how I will remember the months of 2024!
January - Patience for the practice.
I observed holistically what was shifting inside me, waking up at 3 a.m., listening to the world, doing Reiki on myself, and feeling what arose. This month, I naturally established a new routine of waking between 2 and 4 a.m. and doing energy work or writing poetry. I feel the most connected to my soul self at this time, and I did not have to set an alarm or establish an intention. It simply happened, and I moved into it.February - Power of blessing.
I was robbed in Brazil. Someone went into my bag and took my iPhone. I felt it happening, though the person had disappeared when I acted. I was on a busy street, and I’d been careless about where (how deep) I’d hidden my phone inside my backpack, and my bag was on my back. I felt someone behind me, and when I turned around, I saw that the deed was done. I immediately sat down on the curb, shaking from the shock of the violation, and sent the person a blessing. It was my fault for being careless with my belongings; clearly, the person needed my phone more than me. This was my thought process. I have experienced the power of blessing before, and this event was no different. After sending the blessing, I stopped crying. I found someone who spoke English and could direct me to a mall. I could reach the Apple Store without a GPS or communicating in Portuguese. I was able to purchase a new phone on the same date. Considering my limited understanding of the language and location, I was grateful for the chain of events.
March - Put down roots.
I invested in an apartment in Istanbul. I signed a lease for one year. I paid a damage deposit on the home, the security deposit for the internet and electricity, and real estate agent fees (for drawing up the contract), and I pre-paid for the twelve months. I went shopping for furniture alone. I purchased artwork, rugs, and plants that brought color and life into the space. I hung my photographs on the walls and constructed an altar. This was my first home in nearly three years.
April - Accepted rejection.
My tourist visa to stay in Istanbul was denied for the second time. I was also dismissed from teaching positions at two yoga studios and received tens of rejection letters from print and online magazines stating that my writing was not a good fit.
May - Pilates yoga teacher training.
I signed up for Pilates Training to learn more about the body's biomechanics. I wanted to anchor my energy work (Reiki) and yoga (Kundalini) with training that provided a more anatomical vocabulary and framework.
June - Slowed down.
I stayed in France for the summer months to honor my passport allowance in Turkiye. I went through Toulouse and lived in a spacious apartment in Villefranche de Rouergue. VFdR is a small commune in the south of France. The home was by a river, many hiking trails, and a hamam managed by Fabienne, who treated me to an assortment of homemade biscuits and helped me with my French pronunciation. My most significant social excursion was the Thursday Market at the Place Notre Dame. I took a bus to Figeac to have an abdominal massage with a woman named Lucie and spent the hot afternoons writing and reading. I hiked straight up the hillside at sunrise and sunset to a small farm with a chestnut horse. It was a quiet time and the beginning of the end of all the busy making I’d been doing for years.
July - Launched Ritual of the Unstruck.
I taught three Zoom yoga classes a week online, one corporate class, and two of my own. I also launched my virtual yoga studio, The Ritual of the Unstruck. I filmed a series of courses outside that featured my favorite kriyas, mudras, and pilates mat sequences.
August - Soulitude.
I took the entire month off of work to focus on my projects, namely, my poetry collection, Kundalini, and energy work. I spent my days studying anatomy (the endocrine system, mainly) and my evenings listening to lectures or audiobooks by some of my favorite artists and visionaries. It was very hot; things moved slowly, and the horse disappeared from me at the top of the hill. I discovered fawns in the thicket, and the butterflies followed me home. I became more comfortable with my aloneness.
September - Jin Shin Jyutsu Training.
I returned to France from Turkiye to a little town outside of Bordeaux to take module 1 of the Jin Shin Jyutsu Training.
October - Hired an editor.
I completed my poetry collection and was revising my short stories when I felt the urge to seek support. I found an editor to help me with the final stages of producing my first collection of writing.
November - Create Your Chrysalis Sadhana.
I invited my online community to the Create Your Crystalis 40-Day Sadhana. Although I was nervous that no one would register, I did it anyway. This was one of the final pieces of confronting my fears of rejection, and I am glad I did it.
December - Recognition of value.
I experienced big physical, mental, and emotional clearings this month. I did a juice cleanse and kitchari cleanse, gave up coffee, and established a fasting schedule. A bit obsessive, perhaps, though I was inspired by one of my sisters to use myself as a case study. I was curious about my habits and how I would feel when turning things around. What started as a daily affirmation of ‘I will eat this at this time’ evolved into a monthlong devotional quest of Who Am I? What am I craving? Do I want to be spending my time on this task? What is my value? What is my self-worth? What do I want to shape for myself next year? Who do I want to become, and who will join me?
“We carry about us the burden of what thousands of people have said and the memories of all our misfortunes. To abandon all that is to be alone, and the mind that is alone is not only innocent but young — not in time or age, but young, innocent, alive at whatever age — and only such a mind can see that which is truth and that which is not measurable by words.”
