Last week I made an equally partitioned resolution and revolution with myself to pick up writing again. No guarantees of Confucian wisdom, but here goes my verbal onslaught.
I've been thinking a lot lately about a certain phenomena: flashbulb memories.
First a little background. A Bozeman, Montana native, I've spent a small portion of my life trying to keep up with an incredibly dynamic society outside the reach of good old Montana. Severely lacking in live music, trendy backpacks and ethnic food. The rest can be summed up in a handful of pictures but that's a story for another day. They call Montana the Treasure State for the abundance of natural resources; I, however, have come to my own conclusions. Over time and distance from Montana I've come to appreciate the simple pleasures of Montanan rawness. The four mountain ranges that can be reached in less time than it takes to watch an episode of The Office. Summer rivers. The coldest and fluffiest snow that make mountain descents all the more delightful.
Back to the flashbulb memories. Despite the years spent nestled in the heart of the untamed west, my friends would be quick to inform you that I've seen my fair share of world. I've visited over 20 countries on 5 continents (soon to be 6) and I consider myself extremely lucky. The more time that I've spent traveling, in addition to adding fuel to an endlessly burning curiosity, has left me with the undeniable impression of how similar everyone and everywhere is. Sure it's cliche, but you'd be surprised how many people would disagree. A girl once told me that I was so much more interesting than other guys that she had met because of my migratory rap sheet. As if it somehow rendered me more enlightened.
While I'm an advocate of seeking out new experiences, this caught me off guard. Sure, I'll consent that it's forced me to confront how small I am and the unimaginable complexity of this ridiculously pointless and imperatively important life we all live together. But, all flowery bull aside, if you travel right it all boils down to experiencing how other people go about their daily life. That's it. The incredible benefit of travel is that it throws you into situations where you have to acknowledge everyday people. Actually talking to people you pass by on the sidewalk in your hometown will make you more of an interesting opinion, in my opinion, than vacationing in Thailand.
So what's the distinction?
For me it ends where I should've started: flashbulb memories. Flashbulb memories are extremely vivid memories ingrained into your mind because they occurred at very significant points in one's life. The quintessential example would be you knowing exactly where you were when you first heard about 9/11. Boom. A whole lot of life slammed right into your face. Now, this got me thinking because these memories gain vividity through their uniqueness. Their newness. Their intrigue. Ok, now stay with me. So inside our minds our lives are merely an accumulation of memories, and a more unusual experience leads to a more vivid memory, then the more unique experiences you encounter the longer you live ie the more memories that you can easily recall. This is why when we are young life seems to drag on. Not only because when you're one year old a year is an entire life, when your two it's half a life, when you're 80 it's an eightieth etc., but because you experience more novel situations. This could potentially explain a lot. The kids who do the same things every day (go to school and play Xbox) are actually less mature because their lives are actually shorter. Whether chosen or forced upon you, does amount of unique experiences that you've encountered actually dictate your maturity?
Something to chew on.
I've been thinking a lot lately about a certain phenomena: flashbulb memories.
First a little background. A Bozeman, Montana native, I've spent a small portion of my life trying to keep up with an incredibly dynamic society outside the reach of good old Montana. Severely lacking in live music, trendy backpacks and ethnic food. The rest can be summed up in a handful of pictures but that's a story for another day. They call Montana the Treasure State for the abundance of natural resources; I, however, have come to my own conclusions. Over time and distance from Montana I've come to appreciate the simple pleasures of Montanan rawness. The four mountain ranges that can be reached in less time than it takes to watch an episode of The Office. Summer rivers. The coldest and fluffiest snow that make mountain descents all the more delightful.
Back to the flashbulb memories. Despite the years spent nestled in the heart of the untamed west, my friends would be quick to inform you that I've seen my fair share of world. I've visited over 20 countries on 5 continents (soon to be 6) and I consider myself extremely lucky. The more time that I've spent traveling, in addition to adding fuel to an endlessly burning curiosity, has left me with the undeniable impression of how similar everyone and everywhere is. Sure it's cliche, but you'd be surprised how many people would disagree. A girl once told me that I was so much more interesting than other guys that she had met because of my migratory rap sheet. As if it somehow rendered me more enlightened.
While I'm an advocate of seeking out new experiences, this caught me off guard. Sure, I'll consent that it's forced me to confront how small I am and the unimaginable complexity of this ridiculously pointless and imperatively important life we all live together. But, all flowery bull aside, if you travel right it all boils down to experiencing how other people go about their daily life. That's it. The incredible benefit of travel is that it throws you into situations where you have to acknowledge everyday people. Actually talking to people you pass by on the sidewalk in your hometown will make you more of an interesting opinion, in my opinion, than vacationing in Thailand.
So what's the distinction?
For me it ends where I should've started: flashbulb memories. Flashbulb memories are extremely vivid memories ingrained into your mind because they occurred at very significant points in one's life. The quintessential example would be you knowing exactly where you were when you first heard about 9/11. Boom. A whole lot of life slammed right into your face. Now, this got me thinking because these memories gain vividity through their uniqueness. Their newness. Their intrigue. Ok, now stay with me. So inside our minds our lives are merely an accumulation of memories, and a more unusual experience leads to a more vivid memory, then the more unique experiences you encounter the longer you live ie the more memories that you can easily recall. This is why when we are young life seems to drag on. Not only because when you're one year old a year is an entire life, when your two it's half a life, when you're 80 it's an eightieth etc., but because you experience more novel situations. This could potentially explain a lot. The kids who do the same things every day (go to school and play Xbox) are actually less mature because their lives are actually shorter. Whether chosen or forced upon you, does amount of unique experiences that you've encountered actually dictate your maturity?
Something to chew on.
