<\/p>
I rush out of my library, resolutely intending to tell something to my wife in the next room. When I get there, my intention is gone. I go back to the library, and find the memory of what I wanted to say, undulating lightly in the air. <\/p>\n
Augustine wanted to penetrate memory by searching through the dusty files of his mind, but that\u2019s the wrong, or at least a very limited approach. Memories are not \u201cin there,\u201d tucked away in the back of the brain. Memories are in the body, and especially the senses. The aroma of boxwoods sends me back to an otherwise forgotten childhood vacation on Williamsburg; Proust tastes his tea and toast, and digs back to the childhood memories that launched A la recherche du temps perdu <\/em> . <\/p>\n And, memories exist in interaction with the world. I remember what I wanted to say when I\u2019m back in the physical surroundings where I first formed my intention. I can remember things from the distant past when I visit the house I grew up in. <\/p>\n<\/body><\/html>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" I rush out of my library, resolutely intending to tell something to my wife in the next room. When I get there, my intention is gone. I go back to the library, and find the memory of what I wanted to say, undulating lightly in the air. Augustine wanted to penetrate memory by searching through […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3021,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[4],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-3840","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-philosophy"],"yoast_head":"\n