HOW TO REMEMBER OCCURRENCES.
The phase of memory which manifests in the recording of and recollection
of the occurrences and details of one's every-day life is far more
important than would appear at first thought. The average person is
under the impression that he remembers very well the occurrences of his
every-day business, professional or social life, and is apt to be
surprised to have it suggested to him that he really remembers but very
little of what happens to him during his waking hours. In order to prove
how very little of this kind is really remembered, let each student lay
down this book, at this place, and then quieting his mind let him
endeavor to recall the incidents of the same day of the preceding week.
He will be surprised to see how very little of what happened on that day
he is really capable of recollecting. Then let him try the same
experiment with the occurrences of yesterday--this result will also
excite surprise. It is true that if he is reminded of some particular
occurrence, he will recall it, more or less distinctly, but beyond that
he will remember nothing. Let him imagine himself called upon to testify
in court, regarding the happenings of the previous day, or the day of
the week before, and he will realize his position.
The reason for his failure to easily remember the events referred to is
to be found in the fact that he made no effort at the time to impress
these happenings upon his subconscious mentality. He allowed them to
pass from his attention like the proverbial "water from the duck's
back." He did not wish to be bothered with the recollection of trifles,
and in endeavoring to escape from them, he made the mistake of failing
to store them away. There is a vast difference between dwelling on the
past, and storing away past records for possible future reference. To
allow the records of each day to be destroyed is like tearing up the
important business papers in an office in order to avoid giving them a
little space in the files.
It is not advisable to expend much mental effort in fastening each
important detail of the day upon the mind, as it occurs; but there is an
easier way that will accomplish the purpose, if one will but take a
little trouble in that direction. We refer to the practice of
_reviewing_ the occurrences of each day, after the active work of the
day is over. If you will give to the occurrences of each day a mental
review in the evening, you will find that the act of reviewing will
employ the attention to such an extent as to register the happenings in
such a manner that they will be available if ever needed thereafter. It
is akin to the filing of the business papers of the day, for possible
future reference. Besides this advantage, these reviews will serve you
well as a reminder of many little things of immediate importance which
have escaped your recollection by reason of something that followed them
in the field of attention.
You will find that a little practice will enable you to review the
events of the day, in a very short space of time, with a surprising
degree of accuracy of detail. It seems that the mind will readily
respond to this demand upon it. The process appears to be akin to a
mental digestion, or rather a mental rumination, similar to that of the
cow when it "chews the cud" that it has previously gathered. The thing
is largely a "knack" easily acquired by a little practice. It will pay
you for the little trouble and time that you expend upon it. As we have
said, not only do you gain the advantage of storing away these records
of the day for future use, but you also have your attention called to
many important details that have escaped you, and you will find that
many ideas of importance will come to you in your moments of leisure
"rumination." Let this work be done in the evening, when you feel at
ease--but do not do it after you retire. The bed is made for sleep, not
for thinking. You will find that the subconsciousness will awaken to the
fact that it will be called upon later for the records of the day, and
will, accordingly, "take notice" of what happens, in a far more diligent
and faithful manner. The subconsciousness responds to a call made upon
it in an astonishing manner, when it once understands just what is
required of it. You will see that much of the virtue of the plan
recommended consists in the fact that in the review there is an
employment of the attention in a manner impossible during the haste and
rush of the day's work. The faint impressions are brought out for
examination, and the attention of the examination and review greatly
deepen the impression in each case, so that it may be reproduced
thereafter. In a sentence: it is _the deepening of the faint impressions
of the day_.
Thurlow Weed, a well-known politician of the last century, testifies to
the efficacy of the above mentioned method, in his "Memoirs." His plan
was slightly different from that mentioned by us, but you will at once
see that it involves the same principles--the same psychology. Mr. Weed
says: "Some of my friends used to think that I was 'cut out' for a
politician, but I saw at once a fatal weakness. My memory was a sieve. I
could remember nothing. Dates, names, appointments, faces--everything
escaped me. I said to my wife, 'Catherine, I shall never make a
successful politician, for I cannot remember, and that is a prime
necessity of politicians. A politician who sees a man once should
remember him forever.' My wife told me that I must train my memory. So
when I came home that night I sat down alone and spent fifteen minutes
trying silently to recall with accuracy the principal events of the day.
I could remember but little at first--now I remember that I could not
then recall what I had for breakfast. After a few days' practice I found
I could recall more. Events came back to me more minutely, more
accurately, and more vividly than at first. After a fortnight or so of
this, Catherine said 'why don't you relate to me the events of the day
instead of recalling them to yourself? It would be interesting and my
interest in it would be a stimulus to you.' Having great respect for my
wife's opinion, I began a habit of oral confession, as it were, which
was continued for almost fifty years. Every night, the last thing before
retiring, I told her everything I could remember that had happened to
me, or about me, during the day. I generally recalled the very dishes I
had for breakfast, dinner and tea; the people I had seen, and what they
had said; the editorials I had written for my paper, giving her a brief
abstract of them; I mentioned all the letters I had seen and received,
and the very language used, as nearly as possible; when I had walked or
ridden--I told her everything that had come within my observation. I
found that I could say my lessons better and better every year, and
instead of the practice growing irksome, it became a pleasure to go over
again the events of the day. I am indebted to this discipline for a
memory of unusual tenacity, and I recommend the practice to all who wish
to store up facts, or expect to have much to do with influencing men."
The careful student, after reading these words of Thurlow Weed, will see
that in them he has not only given a method of recalling the particular
class of occurrences mentioned in this lesson, but has also pointed out
a way whereby the entire field of memory may be trained and developed.
The habit of reviewing and "telling" the things that one perceives, does
and thinks during the day, naturally sharpens the powers of future
observation, attention and perception. If you are witnessing a thing
which you know that you will be called upon to describe to another
person, you will instinctively apply your attention to it. The knowledge
that you will be called upon for a description of a thing will give the
zest of interest or necessity to it, which may be lacking otherwise. If
you will "sense" things with the knowledge that you will be called upon
to tell of them later on, you will give the interest and attention that
go to make sharp, clear and deep impressions on the memory. In this case
the seeing and hearing has "a meaning" to you, and a purpose. In
addition to this, the work of review establishes a desirable habit of
mind. If you don't care to relate the occurrences to another
person--learn to tell them to yourself in the evening. Play the part
yourself. There is a valuable secret of memory imbedded in this
chapter--if you are wise enough to apply it.