I have a photographic memory, which made me an exceptionally lazy student in nonpreferred school subjects. I didn't give any more time than I had to in memorizing facts for a test (so that stuff could be cycled out of my ROM for more interesting things). But I did make it a point to actually LEARN the stuff I was interested in, not for any greater good so much as my own interest in whatever it was I was obsessed over at the time.
To some extent, both boys share some flavor of this. Elder is more me, here--he was a rock star academically because he could learn the stuff for as long as he needed to know it. Younger, on the other hand, comes by his knowledge honestly--he's a slow processor, but he uses this to his advantage in that he is a thorough learner. He might not get the grades, but you can bet he's mastered the material.
As one person helpfully pointed out to me, schooling isn't everything; how can you translate any academic success into real world success? What can you actually do to monetize it, to make a living?
Let's break the monetizing and making a living down, shall we? On the surface they seem the same, but they are actually two completely different ideas if you dig a little. Monetizing means making money. Making a living could and to some does mean the same thing. Lately, I see making a living as making a life.
And making a life is at least as important as making a living.
What does having a photographic memory have to do with either thing? Actually, not much with the former, but yes, it can mean the world for the latter.
Back in the day, hubby used to tell me I could have been a lawyer for the amount of recall I have for conversations, actions, events and my ability to spit particulars back out at crucial instances. Both my kids actually share this ability--which is a great party trick, btw, but what does one DO with this? In the present day, my mindfulness exercises are bringing me to particular moments in time that parallel things happening in the present day. At first, this getting knocked sideways in time was disconcerting at best, scary at worst. What the hell did this mean? Why were these things coming back? Am I haunted?
Then I started blogging on some of the things, and whatever I wasn't blogging about, I was talking about; I was processing in the explanation and communication, but what was I processing and why did I need to process it?
Where I am landing is simple; the time frame I keep landing in is contemporary with the ages of both my boys; I can argue that I was more autistic than my older guy at the same age. He is infinitely less tone deaf than I was at the same age. While I was more "out there" than he is (but let's get real, COVD wasn't a thing then), man, the sheer carnage of relationships that crashed and burned for me at that time is infinitely greater than whatever he's done in his entire lifetime up to this point. Professionally, he already puts me to shame, having been at both his jobs five years now (while I have lost count of all the gigs I had in the same time frame); personally, what he lacks in numbers of peeps in his life, he more than makes up for the lack of quantity in the quality of the folks he has in his corner.
Where the memory kicks in; I do remember all the details, even the cringe-worthy things. The beauty of looking back with what I know now teaches me what I did wrong; moreover, it teaches me where others went wrong. Not everything was all my fault; and knowing this helps me heal.
I'm not saying that my going back in time is going to fix whatever needs fixing, but I finally have an understanding for some of the whys and how I need to deal with things in the present day and do a better job of it. And I get to use some of these lessons as teachable moments for both kids. Here's where I could have done better; here's where others could have done better.
So important, because we tend to internalize everything and blame ourselves for everything that went wrong. It's important to acknowledge (and atone, where necessary) for your mistakes, but it's just as important to acknowledge that what other people said or did to you is 1) not your fault and 2) might not have anything to do with you at all, anyway. How people treat you is more about them than it ever was about you.
And blogging about all this stuff might help a person or two accept themselves, understand themselves, and maybe help turn things around.
I'm here to help. And my kids are here to help me (and sanity check me, because as I said, their memories are at least as good as mine).
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