Vanya Wryter Consulting Services

Tag: memories

  • Returning to the Present and the Past

    Returning to the Present and the Past

    If I could relive any age or year, I would pick several ages and years from my life. I had some great years when everything went right, from my job to my personal life. I’ve also had great ages when I reached a milestone, like being old enough to do things. But I also think we often remember the past as better than it really was, so my favorite year might not be as great if I relived it. 

    It’s a bit like visiting a restaurant for the first time. The food tastes incredible, the atmosphere is memorable, and the company brings wonderful conversation. But when you go back to that place, even with the same people, hoping to recreate that same magic, it rarely feels the same. 

    If I truly could go back, I’m sure I’d find that those idealized years weren’t as perfect as I remember. I’ve changed. What thrilled me at twenty might not satisfy me now. Sure, I might regain youthful energy or experience that sense of newness, but I’d lose other things — wisdom, stability, and the deeper appreciation that comes with experience.So while it’s tempting to wish for a do-over, I think the best time to live is always now. The present moment, fleeting as it is, holds the potential to become a future great memory. Instead of reliving the past, maybe the real goal is to live so fully today that one day, when we look back, we won’t wish to return — we’ll simply be grateful we were there.

    Daily writing prompt
    Is there an age or year of your life you would re-live?
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  • Does Memory Get Better With Age?

    Does Memory Get Better With Age?

    When we think of aging, memory is often viewed as something that declines. That is true (I’ve looked for my phone while holding it in my hand), but in many ways, memory also gets better with age. 

    As adults, our brains become more skilled at organizing, filtering, and shaping memories. We can look at pictures and news articles, and ask friends what they remember about a shared event if the details get fuzzy. This approach is different from what children do to remember events. They’re more vulnerable to suggestion and less able to use external reference points (like Googling information to figure out a timeline of events).

    As we age, we reconstruct memories more meaningfully (such as that birthday happening the same year the museum was constructed), weaving emotions and personal insights into the past.  

    Interestingly, emotion plays a key role. Events with strong emotional impact are often more vividly remembered. No memory is flawless—we all experience the occasional false memory—but adults tend to be more aware of these pitfalls. For example, as we get older, we experience more losses (friendships, jobs, moving, etc). Although the pain doesn’t decrease, we find ways to deal with preserving (or erasing) those memories.

    So, while we may forget where we put our keys, we have better coping skills when dealing with our memories compared when we were younger. In that sense, memory isn’t just preserved—it’s perfected.

    Daily writing prompt
    What do you think gets better with age?
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  • What If You Could Stop Time

    What If You Could Stop Time

    Time moved a lot more slowly when I was a child. When I was a child, everything seemed much bigger. Heroes were bigger. Problems were bigger. Twenty-year-olds were old.

    As an adult, I returned to my elementary school. The halls were smaller. The desks were smaller. Those years in school lasted just a few blinks of an eye. Now a month is the same as thirty seconds and a decade is just ten months. Where does the time go?

    If there were some scientific invention I could get my hands on, it would be a device to slow down time. It seems that the older we get, the faster time moves.

    Like the ghost of a dear friend dead
    Is Time long past.
    A tone which is now forever fled,
    A hope which is now forever past,
    A love so sweet it could not last,
    Was Time long past.

    There were sweet dreams in the night
    Of Time long past:
    And, was it sadness or delight,
    Each day a shadow onward cast
    Which made us wish it yet might last–
    That Time long past.

    There is regret, almost remorse,
    For Time long past.
    ‘Tis like a child’s belovèd corse
    A father watches, till at last
    Beauty is like remembrance, cast
    From Time long past.

    Percy Bysshe Shelley

    Daily writing prompt
    Do you need time?
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  • An Invitation One Can’t Refuse

    An Invitation One Can’t Refuse

    Daily writing prompt
    If you could host a dinner and anyone you invite was sure to come, who would you invite?
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    I knew that he would come to dinner because he knew how important this one evening was. Prior to dinner, we had argued. We had stayed in touch, but we hadn’t seen each other in months. It took me courage to ask him to come to my place. 

    He had been there several times before. In the first year, we laughed a lot and spent hours together, collecting memories. In our last year, we had argued less and less until we didn’t have much to say at all.

    “Will you come by?” I asked. 

    “Yes, of course,” you said.

    So I spent the whole afternoon preparing dinner, making the perfect meal with the food that he loved. I wore his favorite T-shirt and jeans. Remember where we were when I first wore this outfit? It was such a fun vacation!

    He arrived on time, which was unusual because he was often late. He gave me a hug and a kiss, which he hadn’t done in a year. Then he saw the food and couldn’t wait to eat it. “I’ve missed you,” he said. 

    “I missed you too,” I said, my eyes watering, “and I’m sorry.”

    Everything was what I’d hoped for. There were no arguments, no anger. When you remember something, it tends to be perfect because your mind selectively edits everything. 

    It removes all the bad stuff, so you only remember the good.

    I stared at the plate of food in front of him, still untouched.

    It was all in my head, of course. In my mind, I’d fixed it all. We were speaking again. No more regrets over things left unsaid, no more agonizing over mistakes we’d made. Just this perfect dinner where he was here again, and everything was perfect. 

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