Subtraction

Aug 26 2019

A sculptor in stone

works by subtraction,

chiselling away

sanding down.

Or forms with clay,

warm hands

in cool wetness,

adding, shaping

arresting by fire.

Or the way a forest flourishes,

nascent trees taking root

in fallen logs

subsumed by earth.

We think of memory

as performance art;

as if we could revisit the past,

acting it out

infallibly.

Like souvenirs on a shelf

collecting dust,

instead of confabulation

made even more fabulous.

But we neglect the art of forgetting,

the blank canvas

the letting go.

The gift to oneself

of forgiving others,

the hard-won freedom

of forgiving yourself.

How hard we work

to keep the past alive,

the kiln of memory

that presumes to immortalize

while actually turning to shards.

And the fine art of forgetfulness,

purified

in a crucible of fire

and left to burn itself out.

The baggage that burdens us,

as impenetrable, and overgrown

as a forest grown old,

its exhausted soil replenished

new shoots exposed to light.

There must be a reason evolution made us forgetful.

It's not that the human brain is incapable of nearly perfect episodic (or autobiographical) memory. Because there are rare people with a condition called “hyperthymesia”: give them a date, any date, and they can recall almost everything; from the weather, to what they had for breakfast that day. A great party trick, but a terrible burden: nothing can be let go, everything must be relived; even the horrible events, in all their original intensity.

We not only forget, we remember imperfectly. Because every time a memory is called up to consciousness, it gets altered: by our current state of mind, by events that have occurred since, by whatever context in which it is newly processed. So memory is indeed a slippery thing, unreliable and incomplete.

Which is why we mostly wish we could remember more perfectly. But there is good reason for forgetting. We need to clear space. We need to let go of baggage. We need to cleanse memories that have become contaminated. For example, in PTSD, where memory persecutes its sufferers. Or when memory keeps us too attached to the past – with all its regret, recrimination, shame, and guilt – when we would be far better off letting go. Sometimes, you need to forget to forgive. And forgiveness is a great gift: to the forgiven, sure; but mostly to oneself.