I have a terrible memory. This is not as much a character trait as a medical condition. Instead of being sympathetic and enlisting me in treatment, my family has simply decided that I am a liar.
Because my memory is skewed, I admit that I have a tendency to recount stories far differently than the way things actually happened. I don’t mean to make stuff up, but because of my condition, the details become quite fuzzy.
For example, I spent eight months recounting the story about how Alex and I got engaged. For those of you who haven’t heard it, I would have told you except for the fact that when Alex heard me recall it, he stopped me halfway through, looked at me sympathetically and said, “Kerbear, that’s not what happened.”
“What do you mean?” I said, wide-eyed and prolonging my vowels in disbelief.
Alex then walked through his version, which, after he mentioned it, did seem to ring a bell a bit more than my version. And the matter was settled. At this point, I don’t even get defensive any more when people challenge my memory. I usually just let them win, which probably makes me vulnerable to mass manipulation, but so be it.
Anyway, where was I?
Reminders! Because of my poor memory condition, I need to constantly remind myself about how to live my best life. Everyday. Over and over again. My new thing is using my voice recording on my iphone and sending “Dear Kerry” voice memos.
Because the sound of my own voice annoys me at times, I thought I’d transcribe my most recent “Dear Kerry Memo,” and share with you my daily struggle to be mindful.
Mindfulness is not sitting on the toilet and reading your emails.
It is not texting while you cross the street and almost getting hit by a bike-riding chambray-wearing hipster.
Mindfulness is not talking to your mom while also checking your facebook status to see whether you have any more “likes” on your Mindful Mentors page. (P.S. have you liked the page yet?)
It is not listening to music, writing a blog entry, planning your honeymoon, checking your email, and intermittently doing pushups wearing a skirt.
Mindfulness is not scarfing down your cake batter vegan ice cream cone and then mourning the last bite because you got distracted on bite two and forgot to taste what the flavor actually tasted like.
It is not rushing to the subway scrolling through your mental to-do list and forgetting to exhale for a full five minutes.
Mindfulness is not listening to Alex and then half way into his spiel on the current state of the health care industry wondering whether you should eat sushi or gluten-free pizza for dinner.
It is not getting defensive when a family member calls you out on something and then reactively telling that family member the seven flaws you see in them.
Mindfulness is, however, realizing when you’re not being mindful. Good luck kiddo.