Day 413: Spiralling Maelstrom
Rainy cold day. This province is balls!
I kid, I love it here. Nova Scotia is a gorgeous place full of gorgeous people.. all looking to move elsewhere. I kid! Sort of. No matter, we'll get this province fixed up in no time I have no doubt, and perhaps even fix the downed trees, and maybe some of the gaping potholes. Solve a crime or two. Well, let's not get ahead of ourselves. First we have to improve our memories, don't we. Unless you're one of those chosen few who were born with a natural ability to remember things. Wait, what was that, there are NO such people? How can that be, we've all met and seen them. You have only to watch Jeopardy and see these wizards perform for yourself!
Yes, well it was a bit of a trick comment, because of course, we are ALL capable of wielding such unimaginative memory power; a quantum computer already sitting up inside our skulls, capable of as many calculations, and storing as many bits of information, as the sad sack of human meat strapped to the bottom of it has the inspiration and energy to go out and collect. That's the gOd's honest truth guys, it's what I've found, and have further found a lot of evidence for, since I started this little journey I'm on, that's only now starting to become clear.
A hellish thing, a journey, you start out thinking you know where you're going, but find out rather quickly that in point of fact, it's the journey that's having you; for breakfast, lunch AND dinner, I'm afraid to say.
So I worked on my own memory today, a thick foggy swamp of brain meat inside my head, that occasionally throws out the information I yell in for, but more often than not offers up some image I wasn't looking for (sound familiar Google) and then fast forward to three hours later and I'm thinking about Leprechauns when I was trying to find out information on Liam Neeson. That's been my brain since I was a kid, and it's only been in the past couple of years that I've shown the spotlight back in through my eyes and started dusting off the old manuals this poor, crippled organism has been following low these past 38 years.
The first was that I had a shit memory to begin with. I certainly don't. And I know this, because I have a wildly vivid creative imagination. I know this because I've made a living telling jokes and inventing entertaining ways to tell other people's jokes for over 15 years now, and as a result have had that fact confirmed many times over. The thing about your memory is this; it requires a vivid imagination, association skills (that are natural but need to be fine tuned) and, finally, and for me the most difficult part, the space to put everything, the locations.
I've never remembered locations very well, because my head is always off in space, analyzing situations when I should be getting my bearings. The world has been a jungle for me, and but for a few specific places I've been, it remains a place I could get lost in almost immediately. That's because I'm more of a people person. I like people. I like talking to people. I like hearing from people. I like learning from people. I love putting people into stories in my head. And sadly, the hurdle has always been that I've always really liked the idea of people liking me.
When you get caught up in that particular vortex you end up in a spiralling maelstrom of vividly imagined shit dreamed up in your head that takes up space and really just doesn't matter.
I'm illiterate with numbers as a result of this. Utterly. They have terrified me my entire life. I got letters well enough, and became quite proficient in those, but the numbers, perhaps as a result, suffered. Actually, I think I've traced my own disability when it comes to numbers, though it's not a solid enough theory to share here. Not yet. But soon, no doubt, once I get those pesky numbers all sorted out in my head.
That's the other aspect of memory I've learned, numbers and letters need to commingle. Numbers and images preferably. Images given motion by the information you're trying to remember. A neat little mental process that will eventually happen quite naturally, like riding a bike, or driving a car, or a space shuttle to the moon. That's the beauty of it, it's very scientific in nature, which means once I've mastered my own little witches brew of techniques, I should be able to explain it to a pretty wide audience.
That's the goal.
But first I need to get my neck/back combo sorted out. Even as I sit here typing I can feel there's something just not quite right in there. It feels like my spine is out of alignment up around my neck. I have a therapy appointment today, Jeannette is on her way home to get me the car actually. I should be leaving in about 20 minutes; which is why I decided to sit down and rattle this thing off, while my brain is already mush from a day staring at the white board. Given that my body will also be mush in about three hours I thought it prudent to try to get something down now.
I feel like I'm coasting into the gas station on empty with the work I'm doing. I've been neglecting my body, in order to get the mind stuff done, and I'm starting to suffer because of it. I'm in a position right now that if I have to make a decision between the two its going to be the memory work; and other work that keeps me in the office chair. I don't think it has to be one or the other, but with Blaze the past seven months haven't exactly been a well regimented display of scheduling and often, after done getting him sorted, there's not much time left for other pursuits. We'll get there, I know, but the sedentary lifestyle has taken its toll. This injury is the result.
I've been doing Fabio pool hair flips for years and it's never hurt like this!
I hope we get some sun soon. I went down to the water yesterday for the first time, as I mentioned, and hope to be getting out a lot more soon. It's just too nice around here to be stuck inside for any longer. And besides if we don't get more sun soon I don't know how much longer I can keep Jeannette around. I saw her eyeing her luggage the other day when she went out to the garage to get potatoes. Grim.