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Memory as Poetry

One of the people I have enjoyed reading over the years has been Thomas Moore. I first became aware of him when I bought and read his best seller, Care of the Soul.  That book was published in 1992 and I must have read it soon after it came out.  In fact, that book inspired me to begin a group I called “Soul Work,” probably sometime in the mid 90s.  Interestingly, I still lead a group by that name even today. 
   
Moore is just a little older than I am.  He has traveled a different spiritual path than I have, which is what makes him valuable as my teacher (although I have never met him).  He had an interesting pilgrimage as a monk, psychotherapist and university professor.  Paradoxically, it was his denial of tenure that launched him into his popular writing career that will leave him with a legacy much bigger and different than had he continued as a college professor. 
   
After reading his first book, I have read others.  Soul Mates was ok.  I liked the book, Re-enchantment of Everyday Life.  I very much like his book, Original Self (2000).  Recently I had occasion to look at some of that book.  It brought back some memories and that prompted me to share a snippet of that book and offer some comments in this inspirational piece.
   
Fairly early in the book, Moore discusses memory.  He makes a bold assertion when he notes, “Memory holds us together as individuals and as communities.”  This sounds so true, if you think about it.  Memory is a kind of glue.  The first thing that crossed my mind were the folks I know who suffered from Alzheimer’s.  These poor people no longer have a functional memory.  As individuals, they are now adrift from their communities, even though the communities often still care for and about them.
   
Certainly families have their memories, which often become tradition.  The same goes for communities.  These memories are usually told as stories.  I have been part of churches where the memories are rich and the people in the church can luxuriate whenever the stories are told.  One of the most important features for people new to a community is to hear and learn the memories.  In the business world this is called “onboarding.”  We might go so far as to say major traditions, like Christianity, Judaism and the rest, continue to propagate by sharing memories.
   
Moore says as much when he acknowledges, “When we forget who we have been, we lose a full sense of who we are.”  It is not quite fair to say that our past determines our present and future, but is clearly does significantly affect our today and tomorrows.  We hear this in the phrase, “history is destiny.”  Moore is right when he says we lose a “full sense” of who we are.  Perhaps this is why when we meet new people, we say, “tell us a little about yourself.”  The same goes for the folks who visit a congregation for the first time.  Tell us a little about yourself.  And I also want to hear “a little” about the faith community.
   
Moore is most famous for his focus on the “soul.”  Obviously, this is a slippery term.  I like Gerald May’s definition of soul as “the essence” of who we are.  Moore tells us that when we forget who we are we become “People who have drifted apart from the soul…”  Perhaps it is even appropriate to say these folks become cold.  Soul adds heart, passion and zest for life.  Memories are the embers of our past soulful experiences.
   
No wonder Moore says that when we forget we can become people “who want to defend themselves against the pain of experience” and who “often make an effort to erase memories.”  Moore even adds some interesting detail when he describes those people or communities who try to erase memory.  “They move away from the actual scene of pain, tear down buildings associated with tragedy, or at a personal level, they get as busy as possible so that memory won’t have a chance to penetrate their consciousness.”
   
Moore is truest when he affirms that “Memory is potent.  It does something to us.”  He continues, “It makes us who we are.  It gives us depth.  It ties our past to our present to overcome the disjunction of a too literal life.”  This last point is intriguing.  Memory is not simply a cataloguing of what happened in our past.  Clearly, we could never remember every detail of every day.  But we can re-member our past.  Re-membering is putting back together through story our sense of what happened.
   
We do this, Moore claims, when memory “focuses our attention on the imagination of events rather than on events taken literally.  Memory is a kind of poetry.”  I love that idea that memory is poetry.  Memory is a creative, artistic poem of past aspects of our lives.  In this sense we are not simply a “doer of events.”  Events achieve significance when they become story lines in our poem of life.  We all know poetry has a certain economy.  It is often open to interpretation.
   
When someone asks you to tell a little about yourself, share your poem!

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