Enya – “The Memory Of Trees”.

I was surprised to see that I haven’t shared this song on here before, because this is seriously one of my favourite instrumental/wordless pieces by Enya. It comes from her album with the same title, and it’s very special to me because there is something so very bittersweet about this whole album that I love. The title of both this song and the album comes, as nearly always, from Enya’s lyricist – Roma Ryan – who was inspired by the druidic tradition of placing great importance on trees in their religion and culture. The Celts considered trees – oaks in particular but all trees really – to be sacred and have each their own powers, even the word druid is supposed to come from the Celtic word for oaktree (druids, in case you don’t know, were very basically like Celtic priests). Enya says this title isn’t meant to be any kind of an ecological statement and it’s up to a listener to imagine whatever comes up in the mind upon seeing the title. As for me, the title The Memory of Trees makes me think of all sorts of memories that trees hold, that they could tell us about if they could, all sorts of things they have witnessed over the years. It sounds fascinating. Does this title make you think of anything in particular? How about this piece?

Question of the day.

If you died today, how do you think you would be remembered?

My answer:

No clue really. It probably largely depends on the people who would remember me, as I don’t think it would be the same for everyone, but also I don’t think there would be all that much to remember as I haven’t made anything all that spectacular in life. Most people who know me in any way would probably just have memories of some situations from their lives featuring me or something. My immediate family, the ones who live with me, that is, would likely remember my linguophilia, weird brains and all the other weird/quirky/eccentric stuff they couldn’t wrap their brains around, everything to do with my blindness, as well as my sense of humour, gloominess and my obsession with Misha. My Mum could remember our multiple deep conversations and that I’ve always tried to listen to her or advise somehow, she actually says that now, ever since I’m at home, that is not at the boarding school anymore, at least she has someone to talk to regularly, so actually it’s quite possible she would remember that. Sofi would have a lot to remember. All our games and other fun times and stuff we were coming up with together, our inside jokes and neologisms, weird situations to do with me she couldn’t understand but always wanted and other things she couldn’t make sense of, our arguments, fights, misunderstandings and hurts, funny situations we had together, she would mostly remember the Bibiel me for sure. I’m not sure how Misha would remember me to be honest. Probably as the one who always called Mish Mish Mish especially at night and who always wanted him to sleep with her, but more importantly as an addition to the most peaceful room in the house where one could sleep for hours without being disturbed by anything, with the softest places to sleep on/in or hide, so that it was even difficult to choose where to sleep when he was very sleepy, and with an abundance of treats which somehow magically appeared whenever he said “Hhrrru?” 😀

Most other people who know me in person but not that well would probably remember me as that blind/disabled girl or something like that, and my extended family would probably also think of my disability first and foremost. Some would perhaps also think of some of my interests or quirks or some other of my less obvious, that is not instantly visible, traits, but I suppose mostly they’d think about what they could see. Some, like my grandma, would probably remember me from my early childhood, when I liked to sing, which she always recalls when talking to people about me. My grandma doesn’t have dementia or isn’t stuck in the past or anything like that, well, maybe she is slightly in a sentimental way, but I guess for some reason thinking about me from that period is easiest or most pleasant for her or something. My gran in turn, I believe would remember me in comparison to all the other blind people she has ever known or heard about.

My grandad, who is like close family to me… I don’t know what he would remember about me really. I never know what he thinks. Maybe he’d remember me simply as the person with whom it was the most comfortable to just be quiet and understand each other without words, that’s I think how I will remember him when he dies. Maybe also he’d remember that I was intelligent because he’s always very proud of me for that saying I’ve got that after him, or he’ll remember me as an “x-ray” as he calls me. 😀 Or someone who was worth his support. He’d probably also remember my interest in gem stones.

And online people, again, I guess it depends very much from where I know them or what we know about each other or what do we talk about etc. etc. but mostly they’d probably remember my blog, Misha, possibly also my languages or my fazas or something like that, that I had mental health issues since I am more open about them with people online than in real life, and that I was nice/a kind friend or something like this, intelligent and quirky/weird.

What do you think people would remember you for? 🙂

My most beautiful memory from last year.

A few days ago, there was a nice question at

Pointless Overthinking

: “Which is the most beautiful memory you have from last year?”. So in this post, I’m going to answer it.

From the top of my brain, what I can think of is the feeling when I finished my Polish oral exam last year. Overall, my finals were very difficult for me, not only because finals are always stressful, but also because I had quite a triggering situation happening to me on the first day, so it was all very tense and I can’t think of the exams overall without feeling my brain shuddering. I’m not going to go into details right now, but if you’d like to read about it, you can go

here.

The post is protected so just drop me a line if you’d like the password.

With the Polish oral exam though, it was a little bit different.

I came to the school just as stressed and sick as on all the previous days, mostly because of that scary situation, not the exam itself, although I was a bit jittery about the exam too. At Polish oral finals people usually are asked about obligatory readings. I found most of them rather boring, so only read detailed summaries of most of them, and did some online tests to see how much I know with that, but I was still a little afraid what if I get a very detailed question plus I get stressed and won’t know what to say. I may fail maths, and I did as you probably know, but failing Polish would be a real shame. I rationally don’t think I would, but I was so anxious then all the time that I didn’t think very rationally.

The thing with that being my most beautiful memory is that I had extreme luck that day, and could show all my potential and my possibilities. When I went to the class, one of the committee members very pompously led me to the desk, where I had a Brailler and a ton of paper, ’cause you know they assume you’d have to prepare for the oral exam and write some notes, which in other circumstances I’d probably find very merciful, ’cause I always prefer to write something down before I have to speak and be eloquent. I had to draw a question, and, despite all the anxiety, and how devastated I’d been feeling, at that moment, I felt just a wave of euphoria rushing through my brain. I’d imagine like when you just get to know that you are a billionaire, but not as intense of course. Because, it felt like that question was waiting right there, especially for me! My exam question was something like that, can’t quote exactly – describe the changes that have happened in the Polish language over the years, how has colloquial language evolved, what are some things that have influenced this change. – My notes were really, really, really laconic, it took me maybe a few lines, and a few minutes, definitely less than the time provided, especially that disabled students have that time lengthened (I hated it, it was always only problematic for me). So when I told the committee that I’m ready, they were quite clearly sceptical. But when I started talking, it was  a real logorrhea and their scepticism quickly vanished. 😀 I really don’t remember most of what I was saying, I know I was saying something about social media, and mentioning my favourite Polish book series “Jeżycjada” as a literary example, but it had to be much more. So when I got out of there, I was over the moon. Most of the other poor people there got indeed questions about obligatory readings and didn’t seem as happy.I was really relieved and very appreciative and grateful of my stroke of luck, that was far more than I could imagine, my Mum couldn’t believe that. Well I’ve always had my brain set up for all stuff linguistic, so there couldn’t be many easier things they could ask me about.

So when they were announcing the results, not very surprisingly, I got 100% of it. Was even more over the moon, especially that it was that jerky lady (who was earlier insulting me and all that and triggered me as I wrote in that post I linked to) saying that, so she could clearly see it herself, and my Mum was very happy about it. That same woman had to ruin the experience to me, saying to me in a very sweet tone of voice that it’ll be interesting to see what my math results will be like, which immediately activated my Inner Critic Monkey Maggie again, and indeed, later on it did turn out that I failed maths – I knew it could happen so it wasn’t a shock to me and din’t have to hear that woman’s opinion anymore – but still, overall, I felt like it really was a triumph for me. Especially that then I got 100% at English as well. And then another great thing was the euphoria I felt when finally my exams were over, never mind that I was pretty sure I failed that math thing.

So, while it wasn’t exactly beautiful, with all that intense stuff going on, and I wouldn’t like to go through it all again, the thing with the Polish oral itself clearly showed that I’m actually damn lucky sometimes.

I’ve had lots of nice and beautiful memories last year, but that was simply what came to my mind first. 🙂