Mental Gymnastics

Yesterday, my wondering mind led me down a digital rabbit hole within this blog to find an answer. Today's unanswered question provided some exercise for my brain.

My thoughts began with considering this digital age we live in. We can replay the history of a conversation by scrolling through old text messages. Much more efficient than trying to find an old letter, card or paper document. Emails provide the same back-up. Easily stored, filed and the search function makes retrieval relatively simple.

I have a Rubbermaid container and two baskets within my Daybed Room I need to sort through, decide what is worth keeping and find logical spots to store what I decide to keep. So much paper. Yet there is history within that I don't want to lose.

My daughter suggested scanning and saving digital copies of what I want to keep. Sounds like a very good idea. It also sounds like a lot of work.

Then I started wondering about things like "When did I get a cell phone?", which prompted the memory of when my oldest sister and husband got their cell phone. If I remember correctly, they were the first ones within our immediate family to get one. I must have thought cells were for young people and probably a passing fad. I was somewhat amused that my sister and husband were the first to join this passing phase.

"What year was that?" 

Well, there was a family reunion. A family reunion when we had a new-to-us-dog, who got involved in a water fight (the dog was not the hero - as he bit my brother-in-law, while trying to protect my nephew's wife from the water war), where I think said cell phone ended up falling into some water.

I backtracked all memories related to this reunion, trying to pin down the year. Snippets of memories, who was a baby, timelines, where everyone camped/stayed ... as many details as I could muster and I was still coming up blank.

Eventually, I came up with the year 2001. I might be right. I might be wrong. I welcome corrections and clarifications from my siblings. If I was desperate to know the answer, I could rifle through my old letters to Mom and find the answer. 

The moral to my story is I came up with a satisfactory answer to my question, simply by rewinding the memories I hold within my head. I think of Mom every time I challenge myself to remember without falling back on the Internet or a digital form of the memory. Mental gymnastics may not be the answer to brain health, but it can't hurt.

Memory Games

Hand writing three, 8 1/2" x 11" morning pages on a daily basis has been an interesting exercise in exorcising my morning meanderings.

I have written almost 400 pages and my desire to go back and reread any of them is nil. The most I may do before I shred them is scan the margins to see how many of the tasks I've written down have been left unattended.

One purpose of these pages is to reveal one's inner creative self. I think I may have used up my creativity years ago, as my pages haven't revealed much beyond the fact that I find my thoughts pretty tedious and boring.

Recently, when the words aren't coming, I have been trying to recall events of my life. Years, dates, events and so on. This morning's thoughts began with wondering how much I remember before I started blogging.

I started listing the people I worked with when I moved here in 1988, names of a group of co-workers from 1990. Then, the sequence of events one life altering day in 2023. Recalling one event led to another, another and another. I used no resource other than my own head, assisted with the ability to write things down as I recalled them. 

These are the games Mom used to play. Testing her memory without assistance of any kind. If she couldn't sleep, she would think of poems from her childhood and a myriad of things to hone her memory skills. I am convinced this mental gymnastics contributed to her sharp thinking and overall brain health. Her memory, combined with her curiosity and desire to learn are tools I think are good for all of us.

As I came up with memories I thought I had forgotten, I even made a comment to Mom in my morning pages. I thought she may be pleased I was taking a page from her book.

Now, I have to hone the skill of hanging onto those memories without writing them down. Mental math is a skill I've lost. 

I'll keep playing my memory games and hope for the best. 

I'm Not Losing It (I'm just finding it later)

I have been somewhat frustrated at myself lately. I have a clear memory of where I put something, yet when I go to retrieve it? It's not there.

Case #1 - The Missing Umbrella

I remember where the umbrella was all last summer. It was in an out in the open space on the shoe rack. I remember winter's onset required a changing-of-the-footwear transition. I put the umbrella in a basket on the top shelf of the closet. That's the last thing I remember.

Baskets on the top shelf in the closet
(Can anyone else envision a black cat's eyes peeking out of the handle on the far left basket?)

Rain was in the forecast a few weeks ago. I thought I should be prepared and take my umbrella to work.

I looked in the baskets on the top shelf of the closet. Nothing. I checked any and all places I would put the umbrella in the car. Nothing. I checked behind the baskets and in the baskets. Again. I checked the basement shelves, in and around where I would have placed summer footwear. Not there either. I checked my desk drawer at work. Maybe I had left it at work. I re-checked the car. I looked in, under and around the shoe shelf. Nothing. I tried another day. Dumped the contents of the baskets, thinking the umbrella could be disguised in a "black-on-black" kind of way. 

My very wise co-worker told me, "It's exactly where you left it." Correct.

Life went on until:

Case #2 - The Missing Body Lotion Butter

I ordered it with my grocery order. Again - a few weeks ago. I could visually see myself put it away under something. I remember lifting something up and putting it underneath. I can feel the muscle memory in my bones. I remember.

What did I lift up? And where did I put it? I looked in all the logical places. Once. Twice. Once again, just in case I was seeing it but not registering it.

My brain is doing funny things lately. I ran into a neighbor who asked what we were working on in the yard. I confidently and assuredly said, "A deck." She was wise enough to question what my mouth said, when my brain undoubtedly said "Shed". My mouth betrayed me and said, "Deck". 

What?? It's no wonder I'm losing things. My brain is malfunctioning. I think I've got a few loose connections.

This morning, I thought I would look for the umbrella. One final time. And I found it. IN a basket - yes. But in a basket on a shelf in the basement. Not in a basket on the top shelf in the closet. I'll forgive myself for that.

Baskets on a shelf in the basement

Yes, I did look in the gray basket once but didn't see the umbrella.

Encouraged by this success, I thought I'd try my hand at finding my missing body lotion butter. I looked in all the logical places again. Then the illogical places. Finally I decided to look at the grocery receipt for additional clues. I must have put it with something else I was putting away. That was the only logical explanation left.

That's when I discovered I hadn't even bought it in the first place. What the heck? What in the world did I put away under something else (supposedly) in the cupboard under the bathroom sink? The only thing I can decipher is I bought body lotion and it was exactly where I "remembered" putting the body butter.

Body butter verses body lotion

A vast difference, despite the similar name

I have a small house. I endeavor to keep the excess to a minimum and mindful of where everything resides. 

Obviously, I need either a smaller house or less belongings. Or perhaps a bit of brain rewiring. It's shorting out on me just a little too often.

On a more positive note, I'm not losing it. I'm just finding it later.

The Gift of Recall

I was up to my elbows in sorting through the assortment of frozen food in our freezer when I suddenly wondered "Why am I here?"

I was immediately reminded of the moment when I was unpacking a load of groceries I took to my little home-away-from-home when I wondered "Where is the Shepherd's pie I packed?" I vividly remembered moving one frozen entree out of the way; I remembered we had two frozen Shepherd's pie meals; I remember the motion of choosing one of them. But it wasn't packed.

In both cases I was able to recall my answers the moment I revisited the scene. This reusable note we have taped inside a cupboard door (as a reminder that there is a thawed muffin inside the microwave) triggered the memory I had spotted a muffin in the freezer and had planned to take it out:

The frozen Shepherd's pie? I found it safely stashed inside the freezer door. My memory hadn't failed me. I had gone through the motions to pack it up and take it with me but simply forgot to follow through.

The gift of recall. The vivid pictures in our mind to help us back track and remember the sequence of events that brought us to the moment we are in, when we have forgot why we are there. 

It is a gift that shifts, alters and fades. Sometimes it is because we are overtired or our minds are on a million other things. We get distracted and forget. It seems to happen a little more as I age but every time I remember, I remind myself to be grateful.

The ability to recall a thought is a gift when we have it. It can be eroded slowly or gone in an instant. Brain injury comes in many different forms. Our brains are the core to our being. If we thought about it as much as we should, we may all be walking around in helments. 

Helmets and face masks. We need to protect what is important. Be careful out there.