Memories and the senses

Visual. Auditory. Taste. Touch. Smell. (And the ever elusive/not so concrete "6th" sense, but that's a whole other topic I won't go into here!). I have been pondering the subject of how our memories (and overall daily life experience in general) is significantly impacted by the presence or lack of one or more senses.

Between personal experiences I find myself reflecting on (ie, my memories) and fascinating sensory related conversations with clients over the past two weeks, I find myself ever more aware of just how much we truly depend on our senses....not just to be able to go about our daily tasks, but how our senses can heighten or perhaps diminish a particular experience we have. Senses also influence the way in which we form a memory.

I always used to hate those conversation starters/'what if' questions that would ask "If you had to choose one sense that you could no longer have, what would it be?" because it seemed so hard and impossible to choose. If you say hearing, you never get to hear the sound of laughter or music again. If you choose not to smell things, I would imagine a sense of taste wouldn't be there either...not to mention missing out on the smell of the ocean, flowers, the scent of a lover, a wonderful meal, and so many other things that resonate with comfort, "home," love, happiness,etc. And then there's touch. Who can survive in this life without absolutely no touch of any sort? Psychological studies have shown that babies who have not been touched and nurtured reap negative consequences, emotional deficits,etc.

That leaves us with visual, which also comprises a huge aspect of our identity and emotional experience. Being the very visual creative person (with photography) and analytical (reading and writing) person that I am, I can't even fathom living without my eyesight. So if I ultimately had to choose, I guess I would want my visual sense to be the last to go...but how much of our experiences take up just ONE aspect of all five senses? Very few.

On the contrary, the senses are like slices of pie. When pieces are missing, the pie isn't whole. The absence of one sense may influence other existing senses to be stronger....like hearing things more easily or in a different way if you are blind. I wonder how this extends to something intangible and less concrete though, like memories.

Are we able to still "experience" our memory with our senses that do "work" if we no longer have that sense (in which the memory was originally formed) anymore? Does the memory disappear or just our conscious perception of it? For example,I'm sure you've had that experience of hearing a certain song come on and instantly you're reminded of a certain place or person (visual and auditory memory). Or maybe you travel back to your hometown after being away for several years and seeing certain buildings brings you back to a certain experience you had, the memory of any number of people in the past,etc. If that sense is gone, what happens with that memory (the meaning of the memory, as well as the thoughts and feelings it evokes)? I also wonder if it's harder or easier if you've never had the sense in your lifetime (versus if you've had to adapt after losing it at some point in life).

Back in the fall, I attended an excellent seminar about PTSD and how to help trauma survivors heal from their painful memories. What really struck me as most fascinating out of the whole entire training was learning about how differently memories are stored depending on our developmental stage. Those first few formative years from birth to the toddler years, visual and touch are the most critical in determining how we experience and remember something. Part of the challenge in helping trauma survivors heal is helping them shift a painful memory of something they experienced in a very specific sensory way into a non-threatening way (with or without other senses to create a new meaning?).

See how convoluted this intangible challenge of memory and the senses can be? Regardless, I find this subject incredibly intriguing. I wish I had "answers," but all I can do is ponder and ramble about it. I like that there's no answers though because if I knew, I probably wouldn't be compelled to think about the air of mystery of it all...

The power in choice

Living in a society that feeds on fear and other negative emotions, it can sometimes be easy to slip into a mindset of feeling powerless and hopeless that there is something we can do to change any given situation. What we need to hear more of and bring to our conscious awareness is that while we may not be able to control the conditions of what is going on in our external environment (including how others interact and respond to us)....what we can control is how we (individually) choose to respond when something happens. It is only by having an awareness of our emotional triggers that can allow us to explore these patterns, challenge how they are unhelpful to us, and eventually grow/go forward with a more grounded response. It is possible to have compassion for others (and for ourselves) without judging or allowing ourselves to become easily shifted. You can care about someone, yet also be detached enough to let go and allow them their own experience. Granted, it may not always feel easy to do....but it is entirely possible. I speak from my own experience, as well as being a close witness to this with various people I see every day.

Why do we give others so much power over our own thoughts and feelings? No one has more power over you than you. Ever hear the saying about being your own worst enemy? Perhaps we say so and so "makes me feel like" this, that, or the other because it takes away responsibility from one's own choices. But how can you expect to make changes within yourself if you keep expecting everyone else to change only/first, especially when logically speaking we all know that it's impossible to force someone to change?

Paradoxical as it may sound, taking 100% ownership of your choices increases your confidence, sense of freedom, and the possibility of a healthy, joyful life. This means creating a balance between what you choose to think and what you choose to feel. Ultimately, you can create your own heaven or your own hell right here on Earth (I'm speaking metaphorically and psychologically; this isn't about religion). You can choose to love, forgive, encourage, laugh, and embrace life. You can also choose to be angry, indignant, intolerant, critical, and fearful of things you have absolutely no control over.

So what's it gonna be? Heaven or hell?

Unless you're a therapist....

Unless you're a therapist, you probably haven't had to think about whether your words or body language convey compassion or a false sense of validation when you don't agree with the individual's faulty perceptions of self, other people, and overall worldview. This is especially difficult when a client talks in a judgmental or derogatory manner about someone's sexual orientation, race, creed, culture,etc. Sometimes all I can do is nod my head to acknowledge that I'm listening, yet I wonder if my nodding gives off the impression I agree. It's one thing to challenge someone's unhealthy perceptions, yet I also cannot impose my values and belief system because I would then be judging that person's process of change. You remind yourself that it's their "stuff" that landed them in your office to begin with, thus it's not about you and convincing them to believe something else....but it still doesn't make it an easy task.

Unless you're a therapist, you may never truly know what it's like to get "too much information." Sure, therapists are generally open and receptive to talking about pretty much anything. But must we really be forced to hear someone say that they can't come in for therapy today because they have a yeast infection or my personal favorite, a "runny bowel?" Yet it's the nature of the beast, something they failed to leave off of the therapist job title when you're getting your clinical training in graduate school.

Unless you're a therapist, you might not understand what it's like to be working with an individual consistently for months or years having the same conversations about the same problem over and over again...until one day *poof*....they suddenly (!) make a connection, have an insight and change sinks in. It's a cool thing to witness, yet may sound bizarre in the context of everyday life and interpersonal relationships.

Unless you're a therapist, you might not be as conscious of the sacred nature of absolute trust someone has in you with their deepest and most intimate vulnerabilities. You might not even know what it's like to see a progression in someone's level of trust in you and how meaningful it feels when someone lets you into their private world even more over time or circumstance.

Unless you're a therapist, you may not understand that given all these challenges and idiosyncrasies of the job, we keep wanting to help and find the intangible rewards rich beyond measure.

"I couldn't do what you do," say most people with a sense of awe when they hear you're a therapist.

Perhaps they are right; they couldn't....which only makes me smile, because I can.

The Unknown

Why does the 'unknown' possibilities of future life experience tend to primarily hold a weight of such fear and anxiety for people? Why does one tend to jump to the conclusion that something will be horrible, a failure, humiliating, or that one somehow won't 'rise to the challenge?' Such a mentality leads to a self-fulfilling prophecy. If one never ventures outside of the known, how will one ever truly and intimately know oneself...or the world?

Knowledge can be attained through external and contrived means, while wisdom occurs through integrating both personal experience and intellect on a deeper level. Knowledge may be easier to acquire because it requires less choice; it's more of a one-sided event. It's like doing a research paper. You look up information from various scholarly articles, books, and professional forums. You take notes of what other people say about the subject and put it all together to hopefully form a cogent paper. After the paper has been completed, however, how much of it becomes "part" of you? For me, this is the difference between knowledge and wisdom. A paper full of knowledge is not something I will remember or deeply resonate with in the long-term. Wisdom is different; it has no shelf-life in the recesses of my mind. All else may be taken away from me, but I will always have the wisdom that has meaningfully accrued over the span of my life experiences. As I reflect on those experiences that have provided me the richest wisdom, I can attest it has usually been the result of those 'unknown' moments I chose to embrace rather than hide, flee, or freeze.

Embracing juicy risks in lieu of the comfort of familiarity or status quo....this is what I seek and live for. Don't get me wrong. I would be lying if I said I have no anxiety or that my worst enemy can be my own imagination....I just choose to do something in spite of that part of my mind that freaks out. I recall the many times I have been able to 'hold my own' and know that whatever happens, will either be great or perhaps just an opportunity to learn something intimate about myself that wasn't brought to awareness before. I know you're waiting for an example (or maybe not, but I'm going to give you one anyway) to apply what I describe, so here's an experience I had that led up to writing about my reflections today.....

I had been talking with a friend of mine here in Seattle about my curiosity to go to the annual Seattle Erotic Art Festival (SEAF) a few months ago. As she has lived in Seattle for about 7-8 years now and boldly embraces the erotic arts (ie, she occasionally teaches strip/pole dance classes), she has been attending SEAF regularly since she moved to Seattle. I knew if there was anyone I would want to have this 'unknown' experience with, I would want it to be her. The funny, ironic thing is I haven't even known her that long.....but there's something about her I truly admire and find incredibly refreshing. She is confident and comfortable in her own skin. Her confidence oozes and radiates toward others around her. Some people find this intimidating; I find it welcoming! So when I asked her if I could join her and her fiancee at SEAF, I was happy she said yes.

It wasn't until the morning of the event that I started to get a bit nervous. We were talking on the phone, making plans for what time to meet at the Seattle Center Exhibition Hall.

She told me it was a black tie event and everyone was going to be dressed up, adding that people could be wearing anything from formal wear to fetish attire.

"Last year there was someone wearing a pony costume," she joked. We excitedly agreed on how much people watching there was to be had. My only concern was what to wear, given the nature of the event.

Funny enough, in the everyday world one may tend to be concerned with wearing something that will look too racy or provoke too much attention. In this instance, I was concerned of the opposite. I wondered if I needed to wear an outfit that would fit the aforementioned qualities. My conundrum was not wanting to wear clothing that would make me stand out in a boring way. I searched the depths of my drawers for something remotely sexy that I could safely wear outside of my bedroom, crossing my fingers I still had that pair of red fishnet stockings I bought back for my Halloween costume in 2004. Sigh. No such luck. I then got pissed at myself, thinking Why the hell did I ever get rid of those?!?!

Moving on, I was thankful I at least had my hot pink tights to slightly spice up my classy, albeit conservative black blouse and black skirt combo. I resigned myself to the fact I might be the most conservative looking person there. Oh well. Screw it. Isn't the purpose of something like this to emphasize how erotic pretty much anything can be? I rationalized to myself in that moment that it didn't matter what I was wearing, but how I felt about myself. I was feeling beautiful and confident with my body. I was feeling adventurous, my heart beating fast at this bold new experience I was about to embrace. I was also open to seeing anything and everything that might be at this event; it was an adrenaline rush. Off I went.

Greeting my friend and the love of her life, I was immediately taken in by the art gallery feel of the place. I'm not sure what I was expecting, maybe something more explicit and in your face. I was wrong. It was a colorful, classy assortment of erotic art strewn along the walls with unique performance art in between its open spaces. The atmosphere was warm and relaxing to the senses. My friend commented with joyful surprise that she couldn't believe I showed up, as she had invited other people and I was the only one "who had the nerve."

"Really?" I said, taken aback with surprise. Throughout the course of the evening, she proudly introduced me to her friends and acquaintances as the "SEAF virgin." I smiled and chuckled in amusement.

Ever the curious voyeur of human nature, I soaked in the night like a sponge. There was the huge pink couch/chair in the shape of a boob. The professional rope/bondage man demonstrating in his performance art how a couple can intertwine rope between each other in bed (on an actual bed). A fanciful burlesque show with visually stimulating (and at times, period piece specific) costumes. White porcelain Kleenex holders in the shape of a butt with Kleenex coming out of them; that cracked me up. People watching galore. A woman whose fetish was to have onions grated on her nether regions, which some people openly obliged for her (this I couldn't wrap my head around....especially onions, yikes! But, whatever floats your erotic boat!). A room where you could have tasteful photos taken (erotic, not porn), though the photographers seemed less than amateurish. I think I could have done a better job at those photo shoots. When my friend and her fiancee had their picture taken, she told me they were just pointing and shooting with no quality creative goal in mind. Shame on those "photographers," especially for overcharging what mostly turned out to be shoddy photos.

On the other hand, what most impressed me was the erotic photography I saw as I walked by the numerous walls. I only wished the framed photos on the walls were cheaper. I was drawn to a photo of a woman's black shoes laying on the end of a bed. There was something about the way it was shot and the contrast of black and white (though it was a color photo) that caught my eye. Too bad it cost about $300. Though I couldn't afford to purchase it, I wandered into the festival's store and did find another photo I had liked from the photo gallery...this one more within my price range: a woman with red hair across her face (in mid motion as she had turned her head to the left) wearing what I can best describe as a black skin tight outfit covering her torso. There are small holes all over the black shirt, very subtly exposing the woman's breasts and nipples. It looks like something you would see in a fashion magazine. Hot, yet classy. I bought my very first erotic (and professional) photograph that night!

As the evening progressed, I talked with my friend and pointed out specific pieces of art that really resonated with me. I couldn't help but happily smile as she remarked with an impressed tone of voice how much she's learning about/seeing a different side of me.

When we tend to judge a book by its cover, we lose the possibility of being able to see others (and ourselves) in the various (and sometimes intimate) contexts of experience. I'm glad I haven't lost this ability to surprise myself, and other people. Now that's wisdom and excitement I can hold onto for years to come. No pun intended.