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What is it that makes us remember things from our past and, for some inexplicable reason, they stick with us?

Some things are from distant memories of childhoods lived and recalled with great fondness. Others talk about an incident from adulthood. In all cases, they feature an event that has stayed with us as a “ keeper “ in the file cabinet called our memory.

When people approach their end of useful life ( according to the young smart arses that think that they will live forever, or perish due to climate change before their 30th birthday ) it seems to be that our minds retreat to happier times that our brains chose to save, while deleting so many thousands of days.

Why is that?


What is it that makes our brains go through 365 days a year and choose ONE day, ONE moment, ONE event?

This mass of cells that, have through some miracle of human evolution, assembled themselves within our heads is nothing short of staggeringly magnificent.

We accept this pilot that sits in the driver’s seat of our bodies and ferries us through our lives without question. We just KNOW that our pilot, while occasionally falling asleep at the wheel, is largely vigilant from the day we are born until the day we die.


There are certainly times when this pilot loses his greatest friend: the navigator. When this happens, the pilot flies blindly on and we see our friends and family fall victim to dementia or alzheimers.

Sometimes, the pilot and the navigator are well and truly in control, but there is damage in the wiring and a stroke victim is left unable to contact ground control – the pilot and the navigator just keep flying in circles around the airfield – and communication with the control tower is cut off.

For most of us, however, our old pilot, navigator and trusted friends in the control tower are doggedly performing their jobs and plotting our voyages with such experience and skill that the new up and coming “ aces “ are no match for our old mates at the helm of this aircraft we call our human body.


Like all old battle weary soldiers, we remember our greatest battles and our best moments when we flew missions of extraordinary brilliance.

We filter out the inconsequential things that should be censored or best forgotten.

We save those things that MATTER.


The events that formed our lives and our characters and our sense of self.


What have we given our children today? Lives of fear and confusion? Where they are being educated by transgender drag queens and told that they are not who they think they are?

That babies are worthless, and, but for some quirk of our mother’s mind set at the time, we could have been deprived of the life we have valued, lived and that our pilot, navigator and control tower have kept safe for decades?

That they are bad because they were born with white skin? That being born in the country they call home has made them invaders?

We must surely see that the crew in charge of these little children’s minds are confused and are having a tough time keeping these little ones on course and on track.

I believe that children need to know that their pilot and navigator and control tower are not enemies but are part of their team.


We used to call it " Thought " 

Children have the right to independent thought. The right to think happy thoughts and laugh and jump in puddles, play and imagine that they can fly. Some years ago,  I had a visit from my great grandson. ( aged 6 but wears a size 8 .... he assured me that this was very, very important) and I asked him what was the most Important thing in his life. 

He didn't say " climate change " or equal rights or Mum or Dad or having a roof over his head. 

He simply said " I am. " 

I asked him why. 

He replied "That's what Mum says. " 

And isn't he right? 


image credit @pugglebro on Gab

Childhood doesn't last for long. And it won't be long before his self-importance is a distant memory. 

I only hope that he remembers the time when his mother, grandmother and great-grandmother and great great grandmother believed that he was the centre of the universe. 

Because, funnily enough, he is. Without his innocence and his belief in himself, we lose belief in ourselves. 

Unless, of course, he grows up and becomes a politician. In which case, nothing will change. 




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