Becoming

Remembering awakening in my bed, the grownups talking in the living room outside my room. My blue-walled bed was open on one side so I could have tiptoed out to see who it was. Maybe my parents had guests, or they were just talking with each other, it could have been the TV. I do remember how the linoleum floor felt under my bare feet. I would have left my bed to seek solace, but this time I didn’t. I stayed in bed feeling amazed.

What I really do remember is an acute sense of awareness, of being me. It felt that something new settled in my body; it felt ancient and coming from space. The strange thing is that this memory had to had come from the apartment we lived in before we moved to the terraced house we moved to in 1964. I was probably three years old, and I have been told many times that you cannot remember anything that early in life, but this memory must have been from that house since in our detached house my room was upstairs and the living room downstairs.

We have just sold the detached house and I still  have this sensation with thousands of pictures.

a vague sensation
of ribcaged moonchild — born
becoming me

This is a picture from where the apartment area where I lived. I have no memory of this event or the playground. I don’t know who the girl is.

Today Lilian hosts at dVerse and she wants us to go back in memory to an early memory and try to write from that perspective. We moved from the apartment where we lived before to the terraced house in 1964. I still have some vague memories from the apartment that does not come from photographs.

March 1, 2021

22 responses to “Becoming

  1. Really wonderful to see the photo of you as a young boy. For you, with all the settling of your mother’s house and going through so many of her things, this must prompt must have really hit home. Funny how you remember the linoleum on your floor. My guess is the next house did not have linoleum on your bedroom floor? Enjoyed this memory very much. Thanks for sharing, Bjorn.

  2. It’s so mysterious how the associative part of our brains can triangulate reality and memories. Your mom couldn’t tell you who that girl was? Or you found this picture after your mom passed?

  3. What a cute child you were, Björn, and what vivid memories you have! It’s interesting that you remember the sense of awareness of self and the apartment when you were three years old. I too remember that time, when I lived with my grandparents, because it was a happy time. I love the ‘vague sensation of ribcaged moonchild’.

  4. I think it is possible to remember that far back, as like you said it’s when we first start to develop a sense of self. I can even remember brief glimpses from when I was two – I know because it was my aunt’s house before they put carpet down. But I didn’t remember enough to write a haibun on that! Fascinating glimpse into the dawning of your consciousness.

  5. Have you ever researched past lives, Bjorn?. Somehow your story brought to mind some of my research along that line. It must be frustrating not to know who the is the girl in the photo!

  6. So wonderful to see real pictures to this. (I have none relating to my memory). And I met plenty of people who have one memory or two from such a young age. I can just be amazed and wonder if my lack of memories is a blessing or a cure…

  7. Moonchild, a lovely soul nickname. The photo is too adorable. I write about being very young. I think memory is a unique experience. I tend to remember color and texture. Great haibun!

  8. Lying awake (sometimes only semi-alert) in bed is a memory trigger for many, I have observed. Nice work, Bjorn.

  9. What a wondrous memory Bjorn. Thank you for sharing it. Great photo. The phantom girl perhaps? 🙂 Fascinating the way vivid memories from our childhood tangle with blurred ones, to create a sort of personal mystery. I have a single particular repeating memory from around that time in my life. I would find myself imagining flying above my house, heading into the eternity of the sky. I would go so far out that I’d loose myself. It would really scare me, and I would hide under my covers. But I know I did it more than once. Why?

  10. My first memory, i was a baby in a crib….
    No more than 15 months old. I had been bitten by a mouse, i later learned. I just remember crying. My mom said it is impossible that i remembered it. But i do. I remember the window behind their bed across the room, remember them standing over my crib, telling me we would be moving and everything would be all right.

  11. Unrelated to the poem, you were cute, Björn.

    As for the poem, I had similar experiences but definitely none that I can recall from such an early age! It’s amazing that this one has stayed with you for so long.

    Yours,
    David

  12. This has a very Ray Bradbury feel to it – he describes a similar sense of suddenly becoming aware of being oneself in… I think maybe Dandelion Wine. I’m not sure though, but one of his novels or stories about being a boy growing up.

  13. Fascinating, Bjorn. I have memories that cannot be traced to anyone, any place or anything. Can be disquieting, so I just ‘go’ with them.

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