Today I began a new practice in my life, making memory lists.
On the train as I commuted home I was surprised to find that I could feverishly and easily pen three pages, front and back, of a list of my childhood memories. Beginning with one topic helped me to easily tumble into another, and another, and soon I found I was triggering memories I didn't even realize I still had.
During the past two decades, I've felt that I had a hazy recollection of my childhood, as if a gauze had been thrown over it, and I only had a handful of sparsely disconnected snatches of what once was. When my parents divorced, my father took all of our family photos, and I had nothing with which to call my past into my present.
I am excited about this new project, this new development that I feel could lead me into the long forgotten territory of my mind and help me to reconnect with who I am and who I was, thereby healing some personal wounds and setting the record straight on many issues.
Depending on how these lists progress, I may even use them as jumping off points for the memoir I've always wanted to write.