Recently, my wife and I started writing down words and phrases our almost-three-year-old daughter says. We often laugh at how sweet she sounds when she pronounces words we all use every day. Sometimes, she surprises us though by saying a word we know we’ve never explicitly taught her. We hurry as we jot down the date of her saying the word and us hearing it for the first time.
Which got me thinking. My human body is limited by time. I can only perceive and describe reality from one perspective – the present. What has happened to me is duller by every second that passes, and what will happen to me is, ultimately, unclear. Who I am today, therefore, is the best representation of what can be defined as my true self. I might be at peace with this representation, and I might not.
I’ve heard that the shape of a human ear is unique to every person, which does not change with age. Whether it is true or not I don’t know. What I do know is that what makes me most definitely unique is my experience and my memories.
Sure, I can take photos, record voice notes, publish video messages or send e-mails to my descendants in an attempt to preserve my memories of those near and dear to me. These are good ways, but do not underestimate the power of “showing” compared to “telling”. I am persuaded that sharing my memories with others in a way that they become part of their own experience is the best way of preserving them.