memory is a choice

Every morning, I seem to have the same problem: a complete lack of identity due to a memory that is still slumbering, dreaming, inventing. It's hard to see where you've been when you're always going somewhere new. It is, in fact, memory that gives us a sense of trajectory, and the history helps predict the future. But not all of our history matters. The parts of our history that matter are the parts that we choose to remember. Memory is a choice. The parts that we choose to remember make up our narrative that we tell ourselves every morning. It would be easy--if I could choose--to focus on certain stories in lieu of others; write them down, make a sort of living autobiography to skim through (and add to) every couple of days.

I was thinking about writing such a history--the highlights--on the blog. I would probably include:

• birth
• sister's birth
• childhood friend Ryan
• contemplating infinity
• the time I saved a girl from drowning
• surprising everybody by going to state in the 50 free, shaving my head, coming really close (to beating somebody)
• skydiving
• Paris '99-'00
• hiking in Auvergne / meeting "Le Chien" / hitchhiking to Monpellier
• Dré
• Passau / Vienna
• California with Ana; snowboarding
• mushrooms
• and the other time I transcended space and time
• Mo
• RAGBRAI
• meeting Boulez, telling him:
• "Je vous admire autant que je vous déteste."
• Georgia --------->--------->-------->-------->
• the time on the bike tour when I crashed into a girl to prevent her from riding into traffic
• Cory
• drinking PBR from a paper bag in Grant Park during Obama's victory celebration

And then there are all the people who are still in my life--you know who you are. You don't actually want to be on the list, because that means I can encapsulate your influence. And that sounds like something fascists do to dissidents.