Why is it possible to easily recall moments that hurt more than those that made us happy?
Should we assume that since there are only a few such moments, there must be many more happier times contained somewhere in each 365-day year?
Or could it really be that a lot of our past is filled with wasted moments, neither happy nor sad – the lull of ordinary, non-special days?
One might say that those happy times weren’t happy enough to make a lasting impression, but that would not be completely true.
Or perhaps it’s because we pay more attention to pain than we do to happiness. Perhaps pain leaves a scar much deeper than happiness can erase; a bitter poison that cloaks better memories.
Or maybe it’s because we haven’t fully experienced happiness – the kind that is felt deep in your bones, the kind only a few are lucky to have.
Maybe.
In one of my classes, the professor drew a timeline on the board. On the top of the line, we had to label things that happened in society between 1965 and now. On the bottom, we had to label thiings that happened in our lives during that timeframe.
Afterwards, he pointed out that the further back we went, the happier the memories, both in society and in our lives. The closer it was, the more bad things we remembered. And in the society section, there was more bad than in the personal section.
I guess, the further you go back the more “smooth” your memory gets. The details fade and the emotions aren’t as sharp. And you want to remember the good things from “the good ol’ days”.
I understand the wasted moments too. There are plenty of those. Times when you just do things because they need to be done. Laundry, doing dishes, making the bed, getting dressed, shower, studying, coding, working…