Tag Archives: memory

Life in the Clouds

It all began at the end of December in 2012. Actually, it had been going on for a while now, since the hurricane at least. While driving around bored only a few days after Christmas, I made the most outward effort to do so ever by wandering into CVS and purchasing a 5 x 2.5 inch spiral notepad to carry around in my pocket. For too long it pained me to forget so many of the things I thought about on a daily basis, as the busier I got, the more frequently this began to occur.

The start was slow and the notes were far from profound. As a less intensified effort to refrain from blowing my brains out, they were a good way to help pass time and retain memories while drudging through the pitfalls of depression. Even though I had the spare time back then, I wasn’t writing at any substantial length. In fact, I went dormant for months, not even writing a single paragraph for personal pleasure.

As I look back on over a year and a half of note taking, it’s surprisingly easy to view trends in where it took me; how I was feeling at the time, what was going on, how busy I was. Even more importantly was the infectious rate with which it spread. Multiple sticky notes are always open on my desktop, filled with clusters of quips and random phrases from certain months or seasons. My cell phone even has notes open on it, from miscellaneous events or weeks at a time.

In a way, these are merely the times when I didn’t write. Getting caught up in the blunder of everyday life is the culprit of many of my problems, which allowed the notes to feel sufficient for a while. Working, socializing, relaxing, killing brain cells, and maintaining homeostasis – it all takes so much out of me. Something was missing, as I felt that I had been doing an injustice to myself by not articulating any of my ideas at substantial length.

After a while however, it began to take on a life of it’s own. During the fall of 2013, I began to write in word documents at length, the 21st century form of the notebook at this rate. As much as I wanted to consider it a leisurely activity, this was often while my mind was racing too much to handle it all. At times this made it difficult to continue. Some days you have to motivation to elaborate, some days you don’t. Yet if you do persist in at least trying to write about something, it begins to come as a catharsis.

By far the greatest benefit from all the things I’ve written personally over the last year and a half, from upwards of 60 pages of notes and word documents, are the memories that will not be lost as a result of doing so. In going back and reading many of the things I’ve written, what I enjoy witnessing the most is the element of progression, as well as knowing when the piece was written and being retroactively self-aware of my mental state at the time.

Producing a physical version of my thoughts on the page, regardless to how terrible or elegant they may sound, is a solid way to extend any memories deemed important into a stable entity. Even today, when I continue to re-read months and months of notes and entries, I look at everything differently each time, sparing cringes, laughs, bewilderment and surprise where each is appropriately due. Most of all, I am thankful for the justice this habit has served to my memory, as I don’t think I’d be able to forgive myself for never beginning to take notes.