I have very few memories of my childhood. There is a near complete blackout spanning one year (I think it’s not a coincidence that it’s the year we huffed freon gases from some apartment air conditioning unit till it was empty), a few specific recollections from the years 13-18, and maybe 5-10 distinct memories prior to the age of 10. Proper chronological recording doesn’t exist in my head until around 20 years of age. (And the reason I write furious notes? Because I know all too well how fragile memory is)

Since our last mentorship meeting with Ido, I established a very consistent stillness practice - no days missed. It’s not easy - I have the mental equivalent of a marching band on amphetamines. But I made the decision not to miss a single day (Even after coming home at 6am after a night of intense dancing, I sat down to do my practice).

Over the months of this unyielding commitment, there is a slowly maturing ability to stay focused while seated, and with this, interesting consequences arise, and I wanted to share this one: during one seated meditation session, suddenly a memory of childhood arose, extraordinarily detailed. I saw it and FELT it like I was present.

The purpose of the practice wasn’t to find a memory, so I didn’t stay with it. It was enough for me to know they are tucked away, that I can grab them. And so it has been with endless other experiences - from feeling new forms of happiness and gratitude, to more and more what silence sounds like.

I have many things for which to thank my teacher, but no contest, this one takes the cake.