More about Childhood Memories

Charles in response to Little Things I Remember told how he remembers elementary school much more clearly than he remembers junior high school and high school and beyond.

That seems to be the same for me.

I do remember some teachers and events after sixth grade, and yet, on the whole, they don't seem as memorable or as important to me now as the teachers I remember from elementary school.

Of course, I did write about Miss Gustafson, one high school teacher, and why do I remember her so well and with feeling when I had some wonderful high school teachers that I'm not impelled to write about? Maybe because I owed her an apology.

Somehow to just write down the names of my elementary school teachers meant something to me. The desire to write about other teachers doesn't seem to be there.

Is it because when we're as young as we are in Grades K through 6, we're so impressionable? Or is it because in elementary school, we had one teacher each year, and later we have six or seven or so a year? It's not like I really bonded with my elementary school teachers, except for my second grade teacher, Miss Bancroft, that is.

Now, Miss Bancroft, I would love to see her again. I would love to write to her and tell her how much she meant to me and means to me still. I will love her forever. But, the others, I don't care. My heart is cold toward them. Even my sixth grade teacher, Miss Hicks, who was really wonderful -- I don't know why I'm not grateful to her, yet it seems I'm not.

What to make of all this -- I really don't know.

I would really like to know more about you and what stands out for you!

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Your schooltime memories made me think about my own, and I realized that they are all very clear and vivid in my mind. All the memories of my early years in Finland. Suddenly I realize that it's as if I'd lived two lives. One where I was awake until I moved to Italy, where it seems that I've lived in a state of sleep. Maybe I shut off my heart because it was too painful not to be recognized, not to have an identity...I must ponder this a little more deeply. Thank you, Gloria, for this input.

Beloved Paula, I relate very well to what you are saying.
In fact, I will respond with an entire blog entry. Thank you, Paula, for your input.

I am having some problems with the passing time. Once I used to have many sweet and therefore sad memories because I felt the loss of those people and places and of that state of innocence and wonder. Now I am not able to recall almost anything, or maybe I do not want to remember. I don't know. Where is my past, have I never lived before, am I living now ?
Emilia

Dear Gloria You mentioned before I would have been trachers Pet. We did not have teachers like you. I would have remembered. Now I make ready for our visit to New Zealand. I will unsubscribe. One More for tomorrow morning. To get us on the way. We will see the beautyful nature that everyone raves about. We never went to the South Island before, as I do not like the cold. What ever I saw before waas extremely beautiful but only glimses and not with Mieke who loves beauty as much as I do. I am looking forward to hearing all the heavens News on our return Love you ALL Jack

"... am I living now ?" That's a good one, Emilia. And also strange that a question like this, one we all seem to be familiar with, can be asked at all. "Is this living?" Somehow not quite. But there are moments of innocence and wonder even now, and there seem to be no preconditions for them to occur, they are out of time and story, out of anything, they are newness itself. I sometimes feel that these moments find me in spite of my learned and habitual warding them off. They finde me wenn I forget for a second that, given my story, I'm supposed to be unhappy. And then the moment is gone, but leaving a sense that innocence and wonder are really what all of this strange and bewildering story is floating on.

Yes, Jochen, these moments happen in spite of us. When the "boss" ( our Ego ) is absent, when time and space seem to desappear, when ordinary life recedes, Reality appears.
Emilia

Senora, when I think back to primary school and pre-school, I find that my thoughts are more in images rather than words.

I think as we got more indoctrinated into thinking with words our school experienced changed and the numbing process began. Maybe we remember the early years of school better because our minds were so new and curious then.

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