memory, happiness and being creative – first published 27 September 2012

You may have worked out by now that I have a shockingly terrible memory. It’s something I wish I could change but I can’t so I’ve learned to live with it or work round it. Back in 2012 I saw a TV programme that got me thinking that having a poor memory might not be as bad as I’d thought. Thinking about this somehow got me thinking about happiness and what I could personally do to make the world a happier place.

27 September 2012

Last night I Watched a TV programme about people who can remember everything that ever happened to them. It was bizarre. And there’s me, hardly able to remember what happened last week. Then I got to thinking, not being able to forget anything wouldn’t be as good as it sounds.

What about all the things you’d rather forget, the arguments, hurtful remarks, the pain of a break up, how would you ever forgive and forget if you couldn’t help remembering? What about all those embarrassing moments too. Goodness knows I’ve had enough of them from silly faux pas, through wardrobe malfunctions to comic trips and falls, comical for everyone else that is. The ones I do remember still make me blush. Think I’d rather have my scatty brain to be honest. Mind you, it would be handy not to forget to buy the milk when I went shopping or the chocolate I ate and didn’t add to my food diary.

I’m pretty sure remembering everything wouldn’t make me happy and something I’ve been thinking about a lot today is happiness. What makes people happy? I’m pretty much a glass half full kind of girl, which isn’t to say I’m never unhappy, if you’ve been reading this blog for any length of time you’ll have worked out I quite often am. Mostly though, I’m pretty positive. Could I be happier? Yes. How? Now that is the question. For me making other people smile makes me happy so today I’ve been trying to make as many people smile as I can. A long time ago I noticed that smiles are contagious, if you smile at someone in the street, they smile back. Better still, they walk away with a smile which makes them more likely to smile at the next person they meet, like a little ripple of smiles radiating out from me. That’s my mission for the rest of this week, along with trying to fit in some Pump It Up every day.

Pump It Up did happen this morning, despite the best efforts of the DVD player to put a spanner in the works. I hate those small buttons. Can’t see them without my glasses and can’t jump around with glasses on. It would probably help if I knew what half of them did. I tried to pause the DVD to straighten the mat and ended up having to restart the blasted thing. The screen said press ANY button but none of the ones I tried worked. Then Commando walked in while I was still in a half asleep flap about it, calmly pressed a big blue button and, hey presto, it was working again. Why didn’t it say press the big blue button? Bah! He’s got the instruction book out for me so I may have to read that later. Anyhow, I managed fifteen minutes of the dance workout which is better than nothing. At least I’m on track for my mission to do Pump It Up every day.

The weather was miserable again this morning, all damp and dripping with heavy showers on and off. I did walk right down to the bus stop by the station though, right at the very bottom of The Big Hill which added another quarter mile to my exercise, plus it gave me more chance of completing my happiness spreading mission. There are lots more people to smile at on the bus than marching along the street. Mostly people smiled back, although, when I was walking through the park, the litter collector looked at me blankly and carried on picking up leaves and bus tickets and there was one elderly woman who looked at me like I’d gone mad and scurried off at a rate of knots. Anyone would think I was an axe murderer. I’m almost positive I was smiling quite nicely too, not at all like someone who’d just escaped from a mental home, well not very much anyway. I suppose it just goes to show how few people smile at passers by as they walk along.

It turned out the rain and black clouds were all centred round my village anyway. As soon as the bus got to the Big Bridge the sky was blue (ish) and there was no sign of any rain. Typical, I could have walked after all. In some ways I’m glad I didn’t though because it gave me a chance to walk through the parks and they’re so pretty at this time of year.

Some of the trees are just beginning to change colour and every so often a little squirrel will dash out from the undergrowth and scamper up a tree. When I worked at Dream Factory I used to walk through the parks every morning on my way to work. There was always something new to look at. Green shoots appearing, flowers coming out, trees turning from green to red, leaves falling, glistening drops of dew on spider webs, frost whitened grass, snow on bare branches, I never grew bored of it. The centre of Southampton is filled with parks.

Because of catching the bus I was a bit earlier than normal. Instead of going straight into the office I walked round the block to add a bit more time and I ended up just over half a mile short of my normal walk to work distance. At lunch time I walked around the block again which was a good thing as Gigi gave me a lift home again. She’s thinking of walking in with me next week because her husband is about to start a new job and she won’t have the car. We don’t work all the same days but I image walking with her will be a little slower, she only has short legs for a start and I’m pretty sure she won’t be power walking. Never mind, what I lose in speed I will make up in time so it should all even itself out.

We finally got the schedule sorted (until all the entertainers start messing it up anyway) and I’ve got a mass of emails to send out on Tuesday. I spoke to a few of the entertainers today on the phone, some of them are a bit needy, others are just trying to pull a fast one because I’m new. I’ll soon put a stop to that. I’ve come to the conclusion that the artists are a much more helpful and friendly bunch than the musicians. I Googled a few of them tonight and I can’t believe how beautiful some of their work is. There’s one who specialises in flowers, you can almost smell them, another does really quaint and quirky scenes that make me  smile  and there’s one who’s speciality is pen and ink, his paintings look like photographs but so delicate and precise they almost bought a tear to my eye.

There’s a photographer too, he’s taken a photo of the ship and is allowing us to use it for limited edition gifts and cards. He’s very famous but so nice and accommodating, and seeing his photos, such amazing landscapes that almost look like paintings, it makes me wish I’d taken up photography. Then there’s the girl who does needlework and embroidery, looking at her work, clever, intricate pieces that must take hours and hours, makes me wish I’d listened in needlework class.

I love being creative, I studied art at college and have been known to turn my hand to the odd bit of sewing and take the odd photo. I wish I had their talent and I wish I’d done more to develop the little bit I had. Seeing all the wonderful paintings, photographs and tapestries makes me want to do it myself, to create something beautiful. Not that I’d ever be able to do something to their standard of course, but there is a real joy in creating things and I don’t devote enough time to that kind of thing any more. I wish there were more hours in the day. It must be wonderful to have a tallent like that that can bring so much happiness to others. As for me, I think I’ll just have to stick to smiling and working on my rubbish memory.