To chronicle my life – that’s counting to infinity from zero. Every day, without seeking them, memories of people, places, and times that I’d long-ago forgotten pop up onto my internal slide-show. I once read that consciousness consists of seventeen thousand mind-moments a second. Do the math for five minutes – let alone 72 years! Are we actually the sum of every instant we’ve lived? That nothing is ever lost? It seems that’s the case.
Those blips are irrespective of age or context: Feeling guilt about throwing a cat up in the air when I was 4 yrs old until the cat limped away. Walking down Jansen Steps in 1965 at UCLA, nearly bumping into Nelson Rockefeller. Going weekly with my mother & grandmother in Philadelphia to shop in an Italian neighborhood for my parents’ corner mom-and-pop grocery store in an early 50s colored neighborhood. Leaving L.A., directly from my uncle Al’s funeral Dec 19th, 1971 to drive to Seattle to begin a new job and new life.
Formulating chronicle is cherry-picking from billions of stars from the sky on a clear desert night. If there are uncountable stars, so too are interpretations and meanings of each star. Golda Meir was asked about her early marriage. She answered that it was too overwhelming to tell, “….but let’s try.”
So let’s try.