Messages from Memories: “The Smile”

Reading Time: 3 minutes

By Michael Avery

Pichaya often reminds me to be here now in this present moment. She is right of course. But sometimes a memory will arrive at my doorstep unexpectedly and shuttle me off to the past. At least that’s the way I used to view it.

But what if those memories have really come from my past and into my present for a purpose? Why would they do this? I asked myself. Could it be they have messages they are trying to communicate? 

While I have long been aware that events in our daily lives have significance as Waking Dreams, I found myself wondering: Are the events from our past—recorded as memories—any less significant? If not, then perhaps we should view them as “Waking Dreams in Retrospect” and interpret them as such.

Do all memories carry messages from our past? Do some? And what, if anything, are they saying? To that end, I’ve come up with a spiritual exercise that I started using to help me answer these questions.

I imagine a scene where I’m sitting on a comfortable sofa with my friend, “the memory.” Together, we watch a replay of our interaction on a big screen in front of us. Popcorn is optional. Once the replay is finished, I turn to the memory beside me and ask, “What message do you have for me?”

The answer is usually the same: “I’m sure you will figure it out!”

Let me give you an example. When I was in my early thirties, my brother and I rented a small space in a strip mall for our real estate office. Every day, we would write down a list of things to accomplish for a shopping center we were developing.

One morning, I was in a particularly sour mood over a minor setback to our plans. 

“The Smile”

As I’m sitting here on the sofa beside the memory of that morning, the tape is paused. The memory looks over at me and asks, “Do you remember what happens next?”

“How could I forget?” I reply nodding my head. “I leave the office and step out into the parking lot. What I encounter causes me to say, “I will always remember this moment for as long as I live.”

The replay continues. I see myself walking briskly toward my Porsche, a dark cloud hanging over my head. Out of the corner of my eye, I observe a young girl in her late twenties emerging from of a dented Toyota Corolla. She’s struggling to get out.

I notice something unusual: she has metal braces fastened to both legs. The girl attaches long metal poles to each forearm, resembling canes. Ever so gingerly, she gains her balance. Then, slowly and deliberately, she starts walking in my direction with contorted, jerky strides.

When we’re within ten feet of each other, our eyes meet. To my astonishment, as we pass, she smiles the biggest smile I have ever seen.

“Isn’t it a beautiful day!” She exclaims. 

Truthfully, I hadn’t noticed.

Once in my car, I glanced back to see where the girl had gone. Next door to our office was a prosthetics business. That was the door I saw closing behind her as I sat in my car with tears welling in my eyes. 

This young girl, struggling with such a heavy burden, was able to smile and enjoy life whereas I, with good health, many friends, a descent career, and a shiny red sports car, could not.

When the replay ended, I sat back on my imaginative sofa and knew. I didn’t have to ask. I knew why this memory had returned. I needed a refresher on gratitude. The message of the memory was this:  

“It is possible to enjoy life under any circumstances.” 

Every so often, the memory of that day comes around to remind me to smile, count my blessings, and find beauty in every moment. Generally, this requires a conscious shift in attitude.

“The Smile” reminds me to be grateful for what I have, no matter how small or seemingly insignificant. This also includes the minor irritations and major challenges. It’s all good, remember?

When it’s time to get up from my imaginary sofa, dump the stale popcorn, and return to my focus for the day, I aways find the sky a little brighter and my task at hand a little more enjoyable. I take a moment to appreciate my old Subaru, then I look out the window at the birds and squirrels eating from the feeders and thank them for being part of my life. They make me smile.

Please note: All images are for illustration purposes only unless otherwise stated.