Looking For Gold

 

It is the strangest thing, feeling that my memories could fade while I carry on. However, I cannot recall much of my time in the third grade. I recall that my mom was a lunch-room-lady. It always unsettled my nerves to see my mom in that place. I could tell that she was trying to get a sense of how my day was going, and I was trying to act like she wasn’t there. I was at that age where you still love and depend on your mom, but you don’t want everyone to know it. I remember being up the hall from the lunch room; we’d all run to wash our hands. There was this big, round fountain that drained in a sink, formed in a circle. You pressed the ring at the bottom to get the water to spray. The water came out from another ring at the top and the dirty water would fall into the circular sink. It may not have been very conservative, but it was very efficient for washing several, little hands at once.

I recall the smell of the soap provided at the fountain. And I can remember the smell of food as we walked into the lunchroom. Back then, I carried my lunch money in my pocket. I cannot recall the cost of a school lunch, but I think it was just some loose change each day. The trays were hard, plastic, noisy items. The way we would drag the tray across the serving line was noisy too. The chairs were also plastic and kind of hard. They made noise as well. And the noises unnerved me more than having my mom there, gazing out at me, waving, smiling…

The memories I have of that period are all good now. Even my memory of my sweet mother, smiling at me across that lunchroom. It was great really. And even though I can remember so much of that period, I’ve actually forgotten most of it.

Forgetfulness.

This is where I begin to see how consciousness may work the way it seems to work in dreams. In dreams, it seems, I use some normally dormant part of my brain and live out an alternate life as another person. While I am in one of these dream-suits, I have to suspend the memories of the waking world or it just won’t work. I’ve lived in alternate houses, had alternate wives, worked alternate jobs and had alternate lives, but it still worked. Dreams would not seem very real if I knew I was dreaming.

There have been a few dreams where I did manage to comprehend that everything around me was a dream. In one dream, I even decided to look more carefully at smaller and smaller details. I felt things with my dreaming hands. During that dream, I was fascinated with how perfect things were. Even though I knew I was in a dream, I could sense everything just as well as I sense everything now. When I woke up, no part of that dream woke up with me. I only had a memory of that dream and it continues to fade even now. The point was this: consciousness was there in the dream and then it was there when I woke up, but the two stories were vastly different.

Likewise, consciousness was there with me in the third grade, washing my hands, seeing my mom, smelling the lunchroom and so on; but consciousness is also here with me now, and that memory continues to fade.

In order to be fully conscious now, I have to suspend some of the previous experiences. In other words, I have to forget. If I could recreate the third grade in its vividness, right now, I probably would. And that would require forgetting this moment. Of course, this would not be the best move if I wanted to survive this moment. I believe there are people who actually do check out and live an imaginary moment at the cost of a more important, present scene.

Philosophically speaking, this moment is the moment you’ve created right now. Think of it this way for now. Look around and consider every minute detail of the reality where you find yourself. Now think of this reality as your own creation. You’ve put so much work into getting these details just right. Everything matters. Everything is so important. You did this all on purpose. Of course, you’ve forgotten doing it; that is the only way it could work. As quickly as you set this scene up, you put on the costume you presently wear. The moment you stepped out of the wardrobe department, you became the character you are playing. Besides the shirt, the pants, the shoes and other items, you also put on eyes, nose, ears, hands and so on. You fit this body perfectly. Still, that wasn’t enough to really get into character. You also put on memories. You put on personality. You put on friends and situations. And finally, as soon as you closed your eyes, you suspended your awareness in order to believe you are who you now say you are.

The question is obvious: who are You?

You are consciousness. You are even aware of this, but it has nothing to do with any story. So awareness is not memory. Memory is a part of the character; not the actor. If the character could remember all that the actor is aware of, the part would dissolve and the story would end and begin to fade.

It is perfectly alright to be aware of this, while forgetting it at the same time. There is a reason why You’ve chosen to be who You are. If You don’t see this story to the end, You will not gain what You meant to gain from this experience. If You were to put out all thoughts of yourself, this particular story would suddenly be meaningless.

If none of this makes sense, think of it all in terms of days. There was yesterday, and You have a memory of that day. And there is tomorrow, and You imagine things that might happen tomorrow. But none of that even has to be real in any sense. You’d just need to occupy the present scene, with the accoutrements of memory and imagination as parts of the outfit. Whether or not You believe in the past and the future, it does not have to be real in any way. However, if You do believe in it, then the suit is working as it should.

As humans, we tend to look for reasons why we are here. Why is this happening? Why is that happening? There is only one person who can answer this; and that person is presently wearing the mask of you.

When it comes to nocturnal dreams, most analysts ask the dreamer what was meant by the dream. Why? Because if the analyst interjects his or her interpretations into the sequence, it may take the dreamer to the wrong conclusions. Accord your waking experience the same consideration. Interpret it all yourself. Why are there wars? Why global warming? Why are there hungry children? Don’t look for light, bent around a distant planet, carrying life’s answers. The answers are within you. No one can answer your questions better than you.

I cannot tell you why anything is happening, has happened or will happen, but You can. You can be aware of the effects every event has upon yourself. The most important thing for you to do is to look for the good in every event, occasion, adventure, thought, conversation or moment. Think of every detail of this story (your life) as if you were sitting beside a creek, with one pan, sifting and pouring; looking for something yellow and shiny. This is why everything happens as it happens, from your perspective, within your story. Truly, things can be awful at times. However, even in those moments, it’s still just a pan with some debris. Maybe the water is cloudy from the most recent disturbance. Maybe it looks like a pan of pure sand. But be patient with this moment. Gently shake this moment and let that heavy, precious metal settle. Tilt the pan of this moment and let the cool waters of time take the lighter sands down the creek. No matter how difficult this moment seems, it will clear up if you’ll be patient. There will be heavier stones. They’ll get in the way of what you are genuinely looking for. You have to put forth more effort to move these rocks out of your way. But every event in your life has some elements of Love and Joy. Even if those elements are incredibly small, take the time to pick them out. Put those tiny bits of joy and Love into jars. This is why you are here. You are a collector. When everything else begins to fail and fade, you’ll begin to see that the precious, tiny pieces of Love and joy remain unchanged. Your entire life might begin to dissolve and you may find yourself becoming weaker. Even your story might fade, but you’ll begin to understand that You’ve managed to collect what cannot be destroyed. It’s all there, in those jars. It’s the joy and the love you’ve mined in your life-story. And that’s why you were here. When You step out of character at last, You will hold those precious metals forever. You’ll never forget being who you think you are right now, as long as you collect something indestructible to remind You.

If memories were the indestructible parts of life, you’d never forget a thing.