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Throughout my life, I've always had an excellent memory. I could easily recall facts, places, and sequences of events. Books I'd read, films I'd watched, and experiences I'd lived through - all remained vivid in my mind. Recently, however, I've noticed that past events are becoming increasingly hazy. I'm no longer certain about what I did last Christmas - whether I visited my parents or stayed home to care for my sick wife. The details of last New Year's Eve have become unclear - who I was with, where we gathered, what we did. And the same applies to the years before that.
If previously my past was like a completed puzzle, with each piece neatly connected to its neighbors - this beside that, those below these - now it seems the puzzle has reverted to its original state, with pieces scattered and disconnected from one another.
What's most surprising and delightful about this experience is the sense of joy I feel in this forgetfulness. There's a newfound freedom in it. While I could attribute this to my aging brain (I'm 54) and declining memory function, I choose a different interpretation - I'm becoming liberated from my memory.
As one spiritual master once said, "When you can write your entire history on the back of a postage stamp, then we can talk."