Yesterday I went to the library at the university here for the first time, and there was something about the smell that seemed so familiar. The odd thing was that it brought up a strong association to dipping some morsel of food into one of those little paper cups that are sometimes used at fast food places for serving ketsup, or melted cheese etc. It also made me think of Cottey College, where I studied in 1990 and 1991. I think the connection is this, it is the same smell as the library in there, where I spent a lot of time. And while I was at Cottey, I was a new vegetarian, and I enjoyed eating bagels with cream cheese and raisins for breakfast. (That was before I started thinking about simple vs. complex carbohydrates...innocence is bliss) I used to eat something similar in high school for lunch and the cream cheese was served in those little white cups. I think there are other memories woven into my reaction to the smell of that library, but I can't quite capture them.
Anyway, this has made me think more about how much our thoughtlife is driven by associations, and the workings of history that are not clear to us. It all seems so coherent, but is it? Maybe the explanation I gave is something I fabricated to explain the odd association between the smell of the library and the little paper cups. Perhaps the connection is even more tenuous. I feel like underneath our coherent we are sort of a whirl of impressions, memories, experiences, feelings and so on. This seems exasperating and beautiful at the same time, and powerful.
Why do I always end up writing about food?
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I know! It's all so strange! A month ago I was walking downtown on a warm, blue autumn day--not cold. I'm not sure what the mix of smells was: smoke, roasting chestnuts, gas, autumn leaves, just rained on pavement. I started shivering because I was so pulled back to last autumn/winter.
It makes me wonder how my moods are results of impressions under the surface. Impressions that we can't put our fingers on. YEah! That is frustrating.
I wonder how blah life would be without memories. Sometimes I wonder if memories or dreams are more important to me. I bet we can't even imagine what a blank slate would be like. I wonder if we already had some memories when we were born. Like what? Hmm.
New born babies do have memories. You know, you can sing them songs while they are in the tummy that will work like magic to calm them down after they are born. That's what people say, anyway, and I've also heard of teaching them math and stuff in there. So even if the parents don't do stuff like that on purpose, babies must be absorbing sensations anyway. That's why they like the sound of a heartbeat, and other things that remind them of the womb world.
Also, in the Baha'i writings our innate capacity as individuals to recognize God is sometimes described as something we remember.
And so sad to the loved ones of usually an elderly person who lose their memories...what is an old person but a tapestry/matrix of memories? we are truly blessed to know and remember.
Smells are supposed to give us our strongest associations. Right now the smell of dry autumn leaves on the ground is giving me happy memories of childhood and the beautiful New England fall.
If I end up writing or talking about food, it's probably because I'm hungry.
An empty stomach can be inspiring - the trick is to get beyond food ... any suggestions?
I find an empty stomach distracting. I wonder how it can be inspiring.
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