In History Is What We Make It I wrote about the vagaries of our memories – how we remember some things, forget others and make up yet more!! Yesterday I was given a rather clear example of just how ‘strange’ our memory can be when it comes to selecting a particular event to forget!!
I was talking to a friend about one of my favourite subjects – the fact that seemingly small or unrelated things that happen can have a very significant effect on our life course – and reflecting on the fact that – unusually for that time – I managed to stretch my education out by a year or two more than was ‘average’. This resulted in me starting work at a slightly older age than my ‘contemporaries’. In theory I could have finished school and obtained a degree before I was twenty years of age.
What actually happened was that I started my first job soon after my 23rd birthday. There are lots of effects of that – but the one that was ‘relevant’ was that I attended a total of seven of the residential music schools that were run during the summer holidays – two as a student and then five as a member of the teaching staff.
The weird memory bit is that of the seven I can remember six quite clearly – but the other one has seemingly left no trace in my mind (it was the fifth of the seven). At that time I kept a little book in which I listed the concerts that I was taking part in, so I am able to look back and check where and when they happened. I even resorted to Google Maps and went in to Streetview to see where we spent those ten days – still no hint of recognition!!
I wouldn’t know where to start on figuring out why one – of the seven – has been completely erased. Perhaps there was nothing ‘special’ about that one. Perhaps some of the memories I have of the other six are actually transferred from that one – but it does seem strange that I don’t even recognise the venue.
The point of this blog entry is not to speculate on the reasons why – instead it is being written to illustrate the truth about how our memories can be very selective – and often without any obvious reason why. Whilst I am fully aware that I don’t remember everything that has ever happened to me it was perplexing why in this case my memory had been quite so specific.
We would do well to remember (isn’t that ironic in this context) that our memories are far from perfect.