What’s that name again?

I've started noticing how poor my memory has become.  I spend hours watching a television series like Big Love and can hardly remember the names of characters I've seen dozens of times.  I have to look up function names for Python I've used many times before.  Granted, if I ever want to meditate on the fine points Bill Henrickson's ancestry or figure out how to calculate an MD5 hash in Python, I can look those things up.   Does relying on an outsourced brain (butlered by Google) steadily erode my capacity to remember?  I can't say with any rigor though I have my suspicions. Just don't make me give up my notebook computer, the internet, and my phone!

Nonetheless, I'm tired of going to an Episcopal church for many weeks without having the Nicene Creed or prayer of confession (which we repeat every single week) memorized and internalized by now.  What to do?  I don't have a simple answer to this question, though I've started to exhort myself to start by paying attention, being present, working to remember, and giving gratitude. I've spent too much of my life living in my head that I don't pay sufficient attention to what's right around me, every day.  Yesterday, as I swept our dining room, I couldn't help thinking that "hey, this seemingly trivial act is the important stuff of life -- pay attention because you'll want to remember this moment one day."  Last week, at a funeral, I was reminded once more about what people remember of a loved one's life:  how much they were cared for and loved by the deceased person. It turns out that all those birthday parties, kind words, consistent shepherding do matter -- more than a lot of the stuff I worry about. There are many times I long to be doing big, important things, when living my life in its mundane texture is the important work I need to be doing.  And I can do that job better by being present in it, fully present.

It's funny that I should expect myself to effortlessly remember details from Big Love, given that I had to work diligently to learn facts as a student. Somehow I've forgotten that remembering takes work and it takes discipline.  There are no silver bullets though I never stop hoping for one.  Wasn't Supermemo, which I read about in Wired several years ago going to make the work of learning melt away?   (I'm still hoping and plan to try a similar tool, AnyMemo for Android.)  I'm motivated to spend lots of  time writing because I'm convinced that there are few better ways for me than writing to learn and to remember; don't forget: remembering usually takes hard work.

I surprise myself by adding "giving gratitude" to my list of methods for better memory.  It's not a mistake.  Thinking about our past is not just about dispassionately reviewing what happened but noticing the many, many things for which we have reason to be grateful -- and then actually being grateful in response to that noticing.  Laura and I pray every night before we go to bed.  When I was single, I didn't pray that often in the evening.  But I am so grateful that we do pray because it gives me a chance to remember the people and events of the day and to be thankful.  Praying for people day in and day out has strengthened my connection to those people even when I've not talked to them for a long time.