“An Idea survives not because it’s true, but because it’s interesting.” – Murray Davis”
R.I.P. Waves and June; August 3, 2018- August 8, 2018
I listen to a fair amount of podcasts. Mostly True Crime type stories, but also some ‘This American Life’, ‘Revisionist History’, ‘Ted Talk’ type stuff. I’m typically choosing something that is an offbeat topic, something factual, but fascinating. ‘Criminal’ with Phoebe Judge is a common go-to when I need to plug myself in and focus on a project at work. I like the analysis, the story, hearing how peoples brains work. I like learning. I like knowing stuff. But for the amount that I listen, I find that I retain very few actual facts. I retain the premise. I retain the analysis of behaviors, the overall story. I don’t retain the characters names, or dates, or even the specific murder weapon most of the time. I retain my first and last impression of the program. Was it interesting or did it take me a while to get into it? Did I agree with the verdict? Was the perpetrator a sociopath? I retain the portions that allowed my mind to wander. Never the facts.
When I was growing up, before Google, my stepdad was our google. He retained every fact about everything he had ever read. And he read a lot. My sister and I would make a game out of it and think of random things to ask him, just to see if he had a reasonably believable answer; like “how do bees mate?” or “what’s the average circumference of an oak tree?” – I would never play him in Trivial Pursuit, it would have been soul-crushing. My sister also has a memory for details. I’m pretty sure she remembers everything that’s happened to her since 1980, while I have retained a totally of 27 cumulative minutes of my entire childhood. I remember the moments that evoked a powerful feeling or idea. I don’t remember most of the details of the rest of the day surrounding it. I can come up with the memories, if prompted, but I’m not always sure if they are accurate.
This makes me wonder how much of their childhood my kids will remember. I feel like we spend a lot of time, as parents, trying to ‘make memories’ for them and it’s interesting to think back on my trip to Disney World when I was seven and realize that I remember primarily the elements that upset me; the terror that was ‘Space Mountain’, having my one allotted souvenir, a glass figure of Mini Mouse, smash in the bag while wondering the park. (which, by the way, I blamed completely on my fact-retaining stepdad- He was the one hauling all of our bags, clearly he did that shit on purpose.) The happy moments I remember? Swimming at the ‘Days Inn’ pool, and mickey mouse shaped pancakes with whipped cream. Yep, that’s it — mere minutes of the entire week-long adventure captured. As a results, I’ve crossed Disney World off the list of ‘things that are a requirement for childhood.’ I retained feelings, not events. Clearly, meeting whatever princess I’m sure I did, didn’t impress me.
Sawyer’s always had a knack for remembering things. His wild imagination pays close attention to the world around him, but seem to fill in the holes with the parts of reality that he doesn’t understand yet. He’ll never just sit in the unknown. Lately, he doesn’t seem to live in reality at all. He lives in the land of make believe, on the planet of the Pokemon, and vacations on video game island. A good portion of this year was spent trying to decipher what he was saying, and if it was actual English or not. He speaks in made up words, or in fantastic concepts that develop into elaborate stories that only his imaginative mind can follow. It was both frustrating and awesome at the same time. Last year he started finding language, this year, he figured out the best ways to use it includes challenging reality. Maybe he’ll be the next J. K. Rowling.
He scolded me on several occasions for crushing his dreams by explaining the basic concepts of science to him, debunking whatever grand possibility he was hoping for. I worried about the amount of time he spent inside his head like this, and if his inability to separate fantasy from reality was normal. I was like that as a kid. I believed in my grandfathers imaginary pets, and that my stuffed animals had actual feelings. Even when logic told me these things weren’t true, I rarely let go of the emotional tie. “…but what if the ARE real, and we just can’t see it?”, a little voice in my head would nag. I carried this issue for a long time, I would create and dream and plan, and convince myself that my plans and dreams were actually going to happen. Then they wouldn’t and I’d be crushed. This happened well into adulthood.
So his sense of imagination this year caught me a bit off guard. and I wanted to find delicate ways to explain to him what were realistic options and what were not. We had several conversations, most of which he had in tears, about getting a real live Pokemon for him. He wanted a pet with powers. Our two cats and brand new puppy were clearly falling short. I explained that Pokemon were pretend. Cue tears. I explained that ‘powers’ are things that exist in cartoons. Cue dirty looks and yelling. I then explained that cartoons aren’t actual places. Cue 40 minutes of sobbing as if his favorite cat had just dropped dead in his arms. At that point, I offered him a goldfish. He stopped crying, gave me the most evil look I’ve ever seen and said “how DARE you offer me a goldfish? The fish Pokemon are the WEAKEST of the Pokemon. Why do you want me to have the WORST of something?” – clearly, I’m not winning any ‘Mother-Of-The-Year’ awards. After that, I bowed of the conversation and told him that sometimes we just don’t get everything we want in life. Eventually, he settled for a goldfish.
Settling for the goldfish, however, didn’t stop him from discussing his want of a real-life Pokemon. I tried to explain to him that magic is an illusion in a simple, delicate way that wouldn’t crush his ability to believe in things. Then he looked at me and said: “You don’t know that, mom. There might be a magic store on the other side of the world where you can go in, and anything you can think of can come to life. Have you been everywhere in the world?” “No.”, I said. “Then you can’t tell me that magic isn’t real. Because you haven’t been everywhere that it might be” – “you’re right, buddy”, I conceded. “I guess I don’t know that magic isn’t real and there could be real-live Pokemon with powers somewhere on this earth. Tell you what, if you catch one someday, you can keep it.”
I lost that battle. As I should have. He was right. at 5 years old, he proved me completely and totally wrong. The fact that magic is an illusion is nothing more than a theory. He still has the ability to see past the concepts of “achievable” and see the possibilities in life. He believed in something, truly believed in it, and he wasn’t going to let anyone break him down. He fought back. (For a full week!) about this subject, and he found a way to make me understand that the concepts are just as important as the facts. That’s where everything begins. That’s where memories are made, and discoveries start. Albert Einstein once said:
“I’m enough of an artist to draw freely upon my imagination. Imagination is more important than knowledge. Knowledge is limited. Imagination encircles the world.”
I don’t listen to podcasts because they are true. I listen to them because that person’s interpretation of the facts is interesting. There’s always more to the story. There are always unknown details. There’s always a little magic to be found.
Sawyer,
You have big personality and you’ve already learned to only slow down for the truly important facts. As your interests lean more towards science and math, I hope along your way, you don’t let the facts, and non-believers, inhibit your ability to see beyond them. Facts are only facts because we’ve yet to prove them wrong, and there’s always more to the story. My wish for you this year is that you continue your search for that magic store where you can make all your dreams come to life, and that no matter how old you get, that is a quest you never turn your back on. Read the great story tellers of the world, learn to create, and invent. Learn to write. For then, you will always see the magic in the world around you, and continue to enlighten people, as you did me, and the world will forever be nothing but a sea of possibilities. Happy 6th Birthday, Peanut. May your convictions always include a bit of magic.
“Those who do not believe in magic, will never find it.”- The Minpins, Roald Dahl
Enjoy Life; Eat Candy 