When Did It Happen? by Mary Oliver
When did it happen?
“It was a long time ago.”
Where did it happen?
“It was far away.”
No, tell. Where did it happen?
“In my heart.”
What is your heart doing now?
“Remembering. Remembering!”
From: Felicity Copyright ©: 2016, Penguin Press
The Territory of Remembering
“I remember when….” “I can’t remember….” “Please remember to…” .. ..and so the familiar phrases go.
We tend to think of remembering (or not remembering) as a mental process (or lack thereof!). Children often need to work hard to remember their “times tables,” or learn a poem. Parents “remind” their children to remember their chores: “remember to clean your room/wash your dishes/ finish your paper on time.”
As we get older, we may need to work on remembering someone’s birthday, or the instructions for driving somewhere, using a particular program on the computer. Of course, these days there are many memory-aids, thank goodness. We can search online for instructions that we’ve forgotten or keep a list of important tasks, birthdays. We can make grocery lists that will actually be essential for our shopping.
There are personal memories that we may or may not have trouble accessing – depending on how far back they go, or – for many of us who are older than we used to be – on how “good” our memory is. And difficulty with remembering can be a source of great frustration or suffering as we age. On the other hand, we may have memories we would rather forget….
In the poem it seems that what is remembered in the heart is also familiar to most of us: loss and grief.
Memory and Mind
Memory is usually understood to be a function of the mind, which is considered identical with the brain. Learning and remembering are often described in terms of forming connections among neurons. But there is also widespread agreement that the brain is the biological organ, while mind is a faculty that manifests in perception, sensation, thinking, reasoning, and memory. Memory is not a “thing,” but a function. Lest we assume everything is totally clear, it’s helpful to recognize that discussion of the differences between brain and mind has been around since Aristotle, who died in 322 BC.
But when you talk about having trouble remembering something, are you assuming that your brain is out of whack, age-impaired, affected by stress? This is not uncommon! Might there actually be some brain impairment – making connection among neurons less reliable? Does stress or age somehow affect the pathways among brain neurons? We could take a deep dive into this territory and still not have absolute certainty about the whole subject.
The concept of neuroplasticity suggests that the neural networks in the brain can change through growth and reorganization (see Wikipedia). Most of this was believed to be happening in childhood, but there is now an acknowledgement that many aspects of the brain can be changed even in adulthood. I find it interesting that recent research suggestsmeditation can help to rewire our brains. (See Rick Hanson’s Buddha’s Brain: The Practical Neuroscience of Happiness, Love, and Wisdom, 2012) Which, of course, can affect our mental activity and meaning-making.
Remembering and the Heart?
But, we may protest, some kinds of remembering are not just mental processes – they are related to the heart. What does this mean?
Contemporary research in neurobiology suggests that there is a brain in the heart. The notion of the “heart brain” was introduced in 1991 by J. Andrew Armour, in his text Neurocardiology. And if you want to explore further, the HeartMath Institute is a contemporary research center that also offers tools and techniques for drawing on the heart’s intelligence. In the context of emotional experience, does the brain tell the heart what to feel or does the heart inform the rest of the body? The response I offered in my book: “my inclination would be to answer ‘yes.’ ”
“Some cultures place more emphasis on heart-knowing than head-knowing, and indicate this in language and gesture. The heart’s way of knowing is associated with feeling, depth, longing, love, and compassion, and the heart has its own kind of intuition.” (from the book, The Interplay of Psychology and Spirituality, p. 227)
So I suggest that Mary Oliver’s poem is not so far afield after all… We have life experiences which register in our brains and bodies – but also in our hearts. Without ever saying what it is that she remembers or describing what she feels, Oliver simply acknowledges that something happened, and she carries the memory in her heart. In response to the question “what is your heart doing now,?” the last line is so simple and powerful – “Remembering. Remembering!” The heart holds memories that matter.
Remembering with Sorrow
As a long-time grief counselor, I have been present with many people who were remembering with sorrow. It’s human – and it is clear that some animals also grieve – dogs and elephants, for instance. We grieve for people we have lost, for relationships, places, people, experiences, health, meaningful objects… Some losses are physical, some are symbolic, such as the loss of a dream or a role. Some are personal, and some – more than we tend to acknowledge – are collective.
We may experience a sense of persistent loss around something we never had, such as the love of a mother, or feel the ongoing loss of possibilities due to a disability. Some counselors also refer to “psychic loss” – an intangible, deep-seated loss of self, through childhood experiences of abuse or neglect or, more subtly, being systematically put down, de-valued, rendered invisible. There are also all the “little deaths” we experience on a daily basis: unlived moments, unmet needs, opportunities not grasped, things not said, or said and regretted, intentions not fulfilled. These make up a tapestry of loss that forms a backdrop for all the rest.
Many losses are socially recognized and acknowledged. Others are what we call “disenfranchised losses,” which remain unrecognized or even stigmatized by society at large – either because the relationship was never acknowledged or the loss itself is “unspeakable.” In this category fall the loss of a lover to AIDS, the loss of a pet, suicide, miscarriage, losses experienced by the developmentally disabled, or even, some would argue, losses experienced by children. Retirement is “supposed” to be a welcome event, but the losses associated with retirement are often not acknowledged.
The heart remembers and grieves – and while we may share some common aspects of grief, we each grieve in our own way (and often associate our grief with special days, seasons, or experiences).
Remembering with Joy
The poem feels laden with grief, in its quiet repetition of “remembering.” As if it’s not even possible to say any more than this at the moment – no words will suffice.
But in the heartmind isn’t there also room for remembering with joy? Can you relate to that? A moment of being moved by beauty in nature – watching a baby smile, or take her first steps – a teenager at graduation, a son at his marriage, the kindness of a friend.
Let’s acknowledge the memories that bring heartache – and can we also allow room for joyful remembering, with an open and grateful heart….?