Loss

Memories are little boxes. Some are wrapped up carefully and stored on a high shelf. Some are opened frequently and dusted often. Some are crammed together on the floor or desk, to be grabbed and thrown back at will. And some are packed away in the back to molder, forgotten, on shelves in the garage.

A memory starts like any other, as a sensation. Imagine - every second each of your five senses takes in data and records what it sees. This stage lasts for about two seconds though, because no one can hold that much data all at once. So if the sensation is paid attention to and rehearsed, it moves on while the rest are discarded, thrown away to rejoin the world they all-too-recently left.

The new memory goes around and around as it is thought about, being held in the brain or tossed back and forth between ideas. Memories can last indefinitely in this state - just as long as they are paid attention to. When they are discarded in favor of more recent acquisitions the do not get shoved in the dumpster or dropped at Goodwill, but slip into the back where they are carefully packed in neat rows and labeled so as to be easily retrievable if necessary. Memories can stay here for a lifetime, fermenting quietly in the background until with a swoosh they are summoned back into the light by a smell, a familiar turn of phrase. Then they are back to the second stage, batted back and forth until focus lessens and they slip into the unconcious mind.

This tube of recollection, from sensory input to active learning to memory is a loop that is replayed billions upon billions of times every day, input discarded before it is even turned into a memory and memories discarded to make room for something else. But here's the thing: long-term storage in the brain is not just timeless, it is spaceless as well. Just as a memory can last a lifetime just to be brought back to life by the most mundane thing so to can there be limitless memories, all stored in the tiny crevasses and crannies of the brain we are afraid to look in for fear of what we might find we have forgotten.

Because if we're not sure if it's there, then we still have a hope that it might exist.