That Time I Lost All My Memories
Photo by Nick Dunlap on Unsplash
In early 2020, I received a tremendous gift:
I lost all of my memories.
That may not sound like much of a gift to you, I understand. In fact, it probably sounds downright terrifying.
But, if you stick with me, I suspect you’ll feel the same way I do by the end of this story: this experience – it was absolutely a gift.
My memory loss happened on the floor of a sweat lodge in Ecuador. I had just consumed (and then promptly vomited up) a thimble-sized serving of Ayahuasca. I was already multiple hours into sweating out every impurity that had ever existed in my body. And it wasn’t my first rodeo. I’d done this before. I was already a believer in these methods, a devotee of the shamanic path.
So when everything that was “me” disappeared, I trusted the process.
I laid my sweaty, sweaty body on the comforting, cool, muddy Earth and I disintegrated.
I dissolved into the Earth, releasing every memory I had, every lived experience of going through the world as Keely Marie Carney Copeland.
I let go of my body. I let go of my roles. I let go of… well, everything.
I let go.
And then, at some point, the shaman called me back. With a song, as shamans do.
And as each memory returned, as the main “bullet points” of what it’s like to go through the world as me came back, I squealed with delight.
“I’m KEELY?!” I thought, as I handed my identity back to myself. “I’m Keely and I live in THIS body?! I love being Keely! I love living in this body! This is the GREATEST!!!”
Then I remembered Sam.
“I’m MARRIED TO SAM?!?” I thought, chest exploding in a supernova of love. “I’m married to SAM! To Sam! To SAAAAAAM. Oh my God. He’s the best. And I’m married to him. What a life, what a life, what a life.”
And it went on. And on. And on.
I remembered who my family is. Who my friends are. The work that I do. My hopes and dreams. The life that I’ve been granted, the life that I’m a steward of. The life that is mine to plant and harvest and cherish.
And, all the while, I looked around me. I was in a warm, cozy place, where every human need I had was tended to. And we were singing. We were sitting in a warm, cozy place singing and I knew that in moments, the ceremony would come to an end.
That I would emerge from the sweat lodge and go live the glorious life that I had just handed back to myself.
The glorious, glorious life that had just blown my mind, exploded my heart and flooded every cell of my being with overwhelming gratitude.
The life that, by the way, I am currently living. The very same one!
I’m writing this from a coffee shop next to my IVF clinic, putting my fingers on the keyboard in the ninety minutes I have in between appointments.
I could feel sorry for myself right now. I could focus on the pokes and prods, the injections and the ultrasounds, the hassles and the inconveniences.
Or, I could do this. I could put my fingers on the keyboard and intentionally travel back in time to the moment when, after temporarily losing all my memories, I “handed” my life back to myself and thought I was the luckiest soul in all the multiverse.
Any guesses on which approach will lead to me having a better day?
Keely
P.S. This ability to choose – to intentionally pick focusing on the positive over the negative – it’s not an ability all humans have at this moment. If you, for example, are caught in the trenches of chronic depression, you’re probably unable to do this. Not because you’re weak, lazy or unwilling, but because of how your brain is currently wired. Please don’t feel guilty or ashamed if you don’t yet have this superpower. The good news is that we can all rewire our brains. I can help you with this, as can any of my peers who are certified in the tool of self-directed neuroplasticity through Melissa Tiers’ “Integrative Change Work” training.
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Morning Musings is a delight-first writing practice where I wake up, put my fingers on the keyboard and “learn in public” (credit: Liz Gilbert). If anything I write resonates with you, please share it freely.
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