Decluttering a Life, Memory by Memory

Some time ago, I had an idea for a story. Well, it’s not a story as much as a concept, or a setup for one. What if, at some point in the future, we have the ability to manipulate our own brains — through science, through some procedure or technology that would allow us to delete something learned, or even better, a memory or series of memories? Items could be chosen from a menu. What would you like to forget: a person, a place, a series of events? A skill, a belief? For example, you could delete all memory of your fourth-grade teacher, a man who belittled you. (I’m making these up.) Or, you could delete the memory of a Lake Powell summer vacation when you were twenty-nine, because during that trip, you accidentally ran over the family dachshund. You might choose to forget altogether about your mother — good and bad — because both types of memories are just too painful. Electing to have a procedure like this would come with a series of waivers and warnings, of course. You should be aware that eliminating that teacher from your memory might also affect other memories from fourth grade. Forgetting that trip to Lake Powell will mean you also forget how to waterski, because that was when you learned. Etc.

Along with memories, we accumulate tangible items throughout our lives. Photographs, letters, certificates, diplomas, records, and all sorts of non-paper objects as well. If you have children, maybe you collect things that document their experiences and achievements — or, as I did, you might have containers of art they brought home from preschool and early elementary school. If your parents have passed, as mine have, maybe you have some of their tangible items, some of their photographs. I have pictures and mementos from both sets of grandparents as well. All of it piles up. The ending of a marriage creates its own distinct brand of accumulation, particularly when it ends unkindly, traumatically. When I moved from a larger home a few years ago during the tsunami of my divorce, I kept most things, thrown into boxes to deal with later. And now, it seems, is later, as I prepare to downsize once more.

It’s an interesting word, isn’t it: “downsize?” Literally, to make oneself smaller. I prefer to think of it as a paring down to some essential, leaner…