The memory is so good it remembers even the things you choose to ignore. It records the first smile your mother gave, your first kiss on a first date, bruises, grades, kindnesses, hurts and escapades; every nuance of emotion from gripping fear to jumping joy. The more you choose to remember, the deeper imbedded it becomes.
So soak up life. Sponge it up with all the gusto of the first home-cooked meal in a month. Eat foods so alive they burst and pop and explode inside your mouth, like meatballs made of Poprocks, like sour or hot or luscious spaghetti sauce, enough to elicit drool.
Ride your bike with abandon and speed until it feels like the wheels are wobbling off. Run with arms and legs churning as if a dog were nipping at your jeans. Then lay to look at the clouds and the sun, long enough for the whole panorama to transform as far as you can see. Drink it in like you did the coldest drink on the hottest day. Attach your imagination to it, until that scene changes and you become it; lose yourself in the wonders you’ve found.
Listen in silence to the world the ears offer. Separate the nuances of sound until the noise becomes one, then returns back to nothing.
