December 9, 2013
Greetings from the story,
Among the tribes of Native Americans, and the clans of
Highlanders in Scotland, and in the nomadic peoples that have historically
wandered through the Middle East, there is a thread of commonality as fine as
DNA and as strong as cords of steel.
When we were in school we were forced to memorize all manner
of things. I have occasionally thought
that the reason my memory is so sketchy now is that my hard drive is filled
up. Of course it’s not true. I really don’t need to erase the
multiplication tables, the pledge of allegiance, the state capitols, or any of
the really relevant porridge I memorized decades ago. I have the room to remember more if I choose
to, if I am intentional about the gift I am given.
This week there were countless reports from South Africa
about Nelson Mandela. Amid all of that I
caught this one small piece of a background story, a tiny footnote to what Mr.
Mandela endured, and what he inspired in others.
During Apartheid, black poets were not allowed to publish
anything. It was against the law for
them to even write down their poetry. Some
authors went to prison for years just for the act of putting pen to paper.
These renegades were called ‘Struggle Poets’. In the time they waited for their justice,
they continued to create messages that uplifted, provoked, and inspired
hope. They passed the words to their
audience in the same way that people all over the world have done for thousands
of years. They spoke the words, and
relied on their audience to remember them and share the message with others.
Story tellers exist in every culture, carrying the oral
history of the tribe or the clan or the family.
Before a time when the world was literate the only way to connect with
the past, was through the spoken word.
Sometimes travelers would move from village to village spreading news,
or sharing old stories, but in every place there would be a story teller, an
‘imbongi’, a poet, or someone who would share stories through song.
But it seems strange to think that barely a generation ago
that there were people who had to rely on this as a method of communicating
ideas. Speaking a thing to another
person, giving them a compelling reason to commit it to memory, and to share it
with others.
It’s an interesting thought for us in our society. We have the freedom to express nearly
anything. We have no need to memorize
anything of significance. Anything we
want to remember we can record, print, store in a thumb drive, or post on any
of a myriad of places on the web.
Perhaps this freedom has cost us a valuable strength we all could use.
As I rolled this around in my head this morning I am
reminded of the phrase we all use to describe when we have memorized
something. We say we have ‘learned it by
heart’. It’s an easy cluster of words to
skim over. It implies more than rote
memorization. It is to know and remember
the importance of the words.
Committing something to memory, knowing it by heart, can
have a profound effect, depending on what you choose to remember. Think of the act of repeating your favorite
quote, or a song with powerful imagery, or a prayer that always comforted.
“What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny
matters compared to what lies within us.”
Imagine; today you take a piece of poetry that inspires you
and you commit to it. You learn it by
heart. The act of repeating it,
ingraining it in your memory, will change how you feel about it. It will also change how you feel about your
day; it becomes the theme woven throughout everything else that passes around
you.
It is a fundamental act that has a powerful connection in
all humans. The act of knowing something
so well it becomes part of our makeup.
The art and science of remembering something meaningful for our own
benefit, but so that we might also share it with others.
We are vessels. We
can choose what we carry, and we choose what we share.
Hope this finds you filling your heart,
David
Copyright © 2013 David Smith
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