Have you ever put your shoes on the wrong feet by accident? It takes less than a second for your brain to register a malfunction and alert you to the fact that you’re not paying attention. Your brain is like a computer program that uses cookies to collect information unbeknownst to you. This subconscious data-gathering usually isn’t noticed until something goes awry, such as when you get a cavity filled at the dentist; your tongue has a map of your mouth and when this anomaly shows up, it grabs your attention for a couple days until this new bump assimilates in your brain. Speaking of getting used to new bumps, we’ve finally said goodbye to the original blue bathroom fixtures in our guest bath but I must say, they knew how to design a comfortable toilet seat back in 1960. Our new toilet lid will softly close by itself and you don’t need to workout in order lift it like our hefty blue one but getting used to the feel of the new seat will take some time, and a few new brain cookies.
I also find it interesting how vivid a first impression can be when you’re in a new space or driving through an unfamiliar town, until you spend enough time there and these images become glossed over. Even things which were once annoying or ugly will blend into their surroundings after time and are no longer noticeable. Your mind is still processing these feelings but you have become unaware of it. For instance, I’ve recently spent hours stripping the paint off our hallway door trims. As the old layers were scraped off to reveal the grains of old-growth maple, a weight was lifted off my mind as the visible reminder of previous owners disappeared. It was hard work but I am rewarded on a constant basis because I pass through this section of the house countless times in a day and not only do I feel better about correcting this erroneous decorating decision but there are no lingering negative thoughts toward past occupants of my home (or maybe just less negative thoughts until that purple carpeting is removed from our bedroom, and their bad tile job is replaced in the foyer, and well, we have a ways to go, but we’ll get there, eventually).
One thing my brain loves is to see everything looking neat and tidy in its place and I feel a strong compulsion to correct anything out of order. Also, I often get mixed up when I go to get something where it’s always been even though I know it is somewhere else because I just moved it. And more than once a day, I will walk into a room and completely forget what I was there for and have to backtrack my steps until I figure out what prompted me into action. Apparently my cookies aren’t what they used to be, although, I’ve never had a good short term memory. I think it’s because my brain is too full of important facts to worry about retaining information used only for mundane daily activities. At least, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.
I don't worry that I’m not hardwired to remember everything. And I don’t know about you but I’m grateful I can’t recall every sad story or disturbing picture I’ve ever seen and I can honestly say that I forgive and forget because I really don’t remember what happened or what was said. My husband, on the other hand, remembers everything (except what I told him five minutes ago) and doesn’t hesitate to remind me about something foolish I mentioned at one time or another in our twenty years together, long since forgotten, that he will pull out of his bag of tricks in order to push my buttons. As a result of his overconfidence in the memory department, he’s the type of person who sees a product manual as an affront to his masculinity. He gets it set in his mind that he knows exactly how to assemble something and lets himself get to an exasperating level of frustration before the job is done. That’s when I pull out the crisp set of directions still neatly folded in the box and casually point out that he missed Step 4. I’m okay with not understanding how to do everything, that’s what instructions are for, and my brain is full.
