Bourgogne |
Our thoughts can hurt or pick us
up. Some people are naturally happy and they are the lucky ones, some will
brood over even the slightest thing. We have to be mindful of our thoughts, things we say and do but we may
react or respond badly to people who say things we do not agree with. Often
people say things the way they say them because that is the way they are . We
have to interact with all kinds of people and very often the phrases and
things that we hear are not what
we want to hear. When we are worried, defensive or upset, we definitely do not listen well and lack
clarity of thoughts . Ideally we should empty our minds and think of nothing
and just focus on the present, but our minds have a mind of their own. Thoughts are fluid so when we are not careful, we may find ourselves
saying things that come out sounding all wrong or getting anxiety attacks.
Burgundy - Seurre |
If we sit back and watch our life
like watching a movie, most of us will find that such a movie will definitely
not make it beyond the slush pile. We may not be able to replay every scene of
our life but there are certain scenes that constantly get rewound in our head and some scenes linger on
longer than others. We can remember some moments from our life well but not the
others. Some of these memories may get diluted or diffused over time as we are
constantly having new experiences. Sometimes we embellish our memories for
self-preservation. How we feel about our new experiences is probably dictated
by who we are and what we have learnt from all our previous experiences. Some
people have this heightened ability to remember every single detail and even a
long memory for slights while most of us can only vividly recall what we have
selectively committed to our memory, it is like an outline of what has happened
and what we remember is a memory of a memory.
I also think that all of us are
damaged at some point of time when we are growing up and even as we grow old. Julian Barnes wrote in
his novel “ The Sense of an Ending” :
‘I
certainly believe that we all suffer damage, one way or another. How could we
not, except in a world of perfect parents, siblings, neighbours, companions?
And then there is the question, on which so much depends, of how we react to
the damage: whether we admit it or repress it, and how this affects our
dealings with others. Some admit the damage, and try to mitigate it ; some
spend their lives trying to help others who are damaged ; and then there are
those whose main concern is to avoid further damage to themselves, at whatever
cost. And those are the ones who are ruthless, and the ones to be careful of
.”
The story is about how unreliable our memories are
and how we are often stuck with the analysis that is entirely self-referential when we examine and try to
explain the events in our lives because we are incapable of looking outside our
own head. The author wrote, “ But
time…how time first grounds us and then confounds us. We thought we were being
mature when we were only being safe. We imagined we were being responsible but
were only being cowardly. What we called realism turned out to be a way of avoiding
things rather than facing them. Time …give us enough time and our
best-supported decisions will seem wobbly, our certainties whimsical.”
Perhaps it does not matter what
we have encountered before and how past experiences have shaped us, what is
important is to be able to embrace each day with an open mind and not to remind
ourselves about what had gone wrong or what could have been done. After all,the
present will soon become the past.
The protagonist, Tony
Webster in his 60s asked himself :“ Does Character develop over
time? In novels, of course it does: otherwise there wouldn’t be much of a
story. But in life? I sometimes wonder. Our attitudes and opinions change, we
develop new habits and eccentricities ;but that‘s something different, more like
decoration. Perhaps character resembles intelligence, except that character
peaks a little later; between twenty and thirty, say. And after that, we’re
just stuck with what we’ve got. We ‘re on our own. If so, that would explain a
lot of lives, wouldn’t it ? And also – if this isn’t too grand a word- our
tragedy.”
“The Sense
of an Ending” is indeed a brilliant piece of writing.
A very thoughtful review. Yes, how often we tell ourselves a story about what we experience and it becomes our truth.
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