Stickies

Science has advanced the study of the brain by leaps and bounds in the past few decades. Yet so much of how the human brain works remains a big messy mystery.  Among the many mysteries that remain are the ones that make me think science will never really capture the whole picture... is the process of how memories are made, organized, stored, and retrieved.  Particularly when it comes to the pleasures and joys of vacationing.

So much of what I see, do, and experience on vacation gets lost somewhere in the deep caverns of memory, never to be seen again, unless a dream or a la-la land moment in my waking hours randomly retrieves them. Even then, the memories appear and disappear in a short window of time, never to be seen again, unless the random moment... randomly repeats itself.  Which is not probable.  

So over the past few years, I've had less focus on seeing as much as possible while on travel or on vacation (not that I was very good at that to begin with) and more focus on making Stickies.  Stickies are those memories that are easily retrievable, pinned on a special bulletin board in the brain reserved for all things easily retrieved.   

To my dismay, Stickies are not easy to make. They are on par with making sourdough bread. The outcome is highly desirable, but the process is not at all simple or easily repeatable.

For one, Stickies usually require stillness.  And, how easy is it to be still when you are at a viewpoint with a hundred other people and a comparable multitude of cars that exceed the number of parking spaces?  And so it goes ...  Hunt down parking spot.  Hustle to viewpoint. Squeeze into a spot along guard railing.  Take photographs.  Feel weird because you are focused on the landscape rather than a selfie.  Listen to chatter. Return to Car. Leave. What results is a very perfect recipe for remembering nothing beyond a snippet on a busy itinerary.  

There is a simple solution, right?  Just seek out stillness.  Breathe. Meditate.  Feel the wind. Slowly take in the sun, the clouds, the rain, the weather. Listen for birds, squirrels, or the flow of water.  Smell fresh air, nearby flowers, or that burger that someone took with them to the viewpoint (and is now drive everyone else crazy).  Don't think about food. Be in the moment.  Focus.  Breathe.  Ignore the child screaming because mom pulled him off the railing before he went over the edge. Ignore the multitude of languages that together elevate the volume of unintelligible background chatter.  

Not so simple.    But not impossible either.  Worth the intentional effort it takes to find the place and space to make those tricky Stickies.

I love Stickies.  I love them because even on the most stressful of days I can pick a Stickie and rest in it.  In a moment of chaos, I can return to the Loughrigg Fell (Ambleside UK) and find peace:

In a day that feels dead and lifeless, I can remember creatures full of curiosity:

During a moment mired in frustration, I can remember a scene of contentment:

On a dreary, rainy day that marks a pattern of the same over a week, two weeks, a month ... I can return to the sunshine. 

And that's just from a single, ten-day trip to England (a trip that is turning into quite the StickieFest). 

Stickies.   Worth more than ten cities in ten days. Worth more than the most expensive resort.   Worth more than a thousand photographs.   

Worth more than gold.   Although some gold would certainly help with expenses.