Watching my brain explode
About a year ago I was at a writer’s conference listening to one of my favorite teachers. He’s one of those teachers who will go off topic. He’s full of energy, easily distracted but most of all everyone in the class love’s the guy.
The man is full of wonderful stories and when his class is over we get more than our money’s worth.
It was during one of his talks where he touched upon a topic that fascinated me.
Recycling old arguments
He spoke of a time when he was driving through town having a make believe argument of an actual event from a long time ago. As usual he explained, he won the argument just like he had in real life.
I remember many of us smiling and nodding our heads. Been there, our smiles admitted.
But then he said something that I’ll never forget: The next time that happens I’ll change history and make myself lose and when I do that watch my brain explode.
Living in the Past
I may be guilty of living in the past from time to time. I may also be guilty of reliving an ancient argument but changing it around and making myself lose when I actually won?
Are you kidding me?
I am the undefeated champ of recycled arguments. I am fantastic when it comes to adding another line, creating a new paragraph while adding to the riches of my winning day.
But losing on purpose when I actually won?
How is that possible?
Music and their games
Music has a habit of bringing back old arguments and on a certain day not too long ago it happened again.
The music played and a scene from long ago appeared. It might have been my fault. I might have said too much and yes, I was on the winning end of the ‘discussion’.
I also remember a door slamming in my face and a slight concern over a possible broken nose.
As the music entered the halfway mark and the memory grew roots I placed myself into the scene and did the unthinkable.
I changed history.
Same script different ending
I gently placed my hand on the door and looked her in the eye. I paused for a moment and told her she was right.
I could see the confusion in her eyes. This isn’t supposed to happen, her eyes screamed. The door is supposed to shut an inch from breaking your nose.
You’re supposed to toss a parting shot and speed away. An ugly moment played out like a scratched record over and over just like the memory intended.
But something happened to this old memory. I changed it the same way my favorite teacher changed his.
I saw her standing in front of the door. She was confused. Not sure what to say next. A new script had been added and nobody had time to rehearse.
I could see the neighbors watching. They were angry. They didn’t want a new version. They wanted the old. We all knew the drill. Same old song same old memory.
But not today.
Suddenly I’m in my car speeding away but this time the memory is different and I’m the culprit who changed it.
I looked in the review mirror and saw her standing in the middle of the road. It’s clear I tossed a monkey wrench into an old memory and I was lucky to leave when I did.
The music ends and so does the memory. I’m not sure if that was such a good idea but I do know one thing –
It made my brain explode.
Happy Friday Everyone!!!