Friday, January 18, 2013

Walking Down the Memory Mine Field

I'd never thought that writing a childhood memoir would be like walking down a memory mine field. One wrong word and you'd cause a long dormant emotion to flare up. 
Which brings us to the reason why people write memoirs.
To seek the truth. To set the record straight. To be fair to our own memories in spite of how others choose to define us.
However, dislodging an entrenched image is an arduous task. 
The Brat. The Enfant Terrible. The Rebel. The Hippie. The Prodigal Child. The Belligerent Sibling. The Miserable Single.
Types created by those, who by virtue of their birth order or ranking, felt that they have the absolute right to perpetuate the family myth.  Since in most family hierarchy or pecking order, someone's got to be The Scapegoat, The Whipping Boy, or Girl. To fulfil others' cravings for an externalised Object of Ridicule or Contempt. Or projections of their own Guilt.
And that someone is expected to be a sport to laugh along at put-downs thinly veiled as jokes or harmless recollections of the past. She must never, ever lose her temper, regardless of how she's provoked. Perhaps the best approach is to view those instances as opportunities to practise graciousness or to develop a profound understanding of human complexities. Lest she be accused of being The Ingrate.

An interesting read:

Defining Your Authentic Self

Are you living a life that is more in tune with your "authentic" self (who you were created to be) or your "fictional" self (who the world has told you to be)? 
You probably weren't even aware that these versions of your "self" existed! Dr. Phil explains the difference between the authentic and fictional self:

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