Want to improve your memory? Count your blessings.
Every morning before I leave my apartment to go swimming or to take Doris to the Dog Park, my pet and I return to the bed we exited an hour earlier to recite my morning prayer.
Doris' part in this ritual is to lie still and await my strokes. My rescued pet is unhappy I am saying the words in my head, rather than out loud to her. But if I attempt to speak them, I lose my train of thought.
I have performed this observance long before my Jack Russell/Terrier mix was at my bedside. I can't pinpoint the start date, but I do know it's at least 10 years because my deceased husband's name is in the line-up.
Over the decade, my prayer has grown quite large. It takes 15 minutes of a recitation that opens with Baruch atah, Adonai Eloheinu, Melech haolam. (Praise to You, Adonai our God, Sovereign of the universe,) Then I add the day of the week to the Hebrew.
My remainder of the prayer and my final words are in English, Thank you for my memory.
I'm not sure why I begin with a Jewish prayer that actually is not a morning one. It just seemed appropriate to start with words that would get God's attention.
Whatever the impetus, over the years my morning prayer has organized itself into something like a Memory Palace. I first learned of this description while watching a new version of "Sherlock Holmes."
But rather than rooms in a castle, my prayer has settled itself into a jumble of bungalows. The early bungalows are static. They have not changed over the decade I've been reciting my prayer.
These residences are stuffed with names of people, household objects and appliances, office technology, newspapers, swim equipment, and other miscellany. Their only similarity is that they fall under the gratitude label.
These start with "Thank you for" and continue into all of the above are named.
There is a "Blessed Memory" bungalow that continues to add on sections to house new arrivals. It begins with my mother and father and ends with Stephan Sondheim. There are likely 100 people, and dogs, that reside here. I have memorized all of their names.
Another bungalow is inhabited by "Good Health, Long Life" friends and family. This residence increases or subtracts as time goes on. Many go in with some malady and manage to stay there. Others must pack up and move to "Blessed Memory."
My brain has to keep up with these transfers. In a way, it's like unplugging and replugging an electric device. It refreshes my memory and allows people to settle and be welcomed into their newest home.
We take a break at this point and stroll from friends, family, and objects to politics. This is where I thank God for helping to get Joe Biden elected President and for Democrats to have a majority. I also give gratitude for the Covid vaccines and remind God to keep everyone in my orbit safe.
For some reason I've tacked on, "Please protect the Obamas and Bryan Stevenson."
We're nearing the end now as I pray to God to protect my children, to assure that their travels are safe and on time, that their projects are green lit and successful, and their relationships with their children are for a blessing.
Finally, and this is where Doris perks up because she has somehow figured that our 15 minutes is coming to an end, I say out loud, "I pray that you keep Doris and I safe when we're together and apart."
We're nearing the finish now. "I pray that you (God) and Joey (child who aids me with funds) know how grateful I am for this dog, this apartment, this highrise, this neighborhood, my life."
With the prayer concluded, Doris is on alert, I add one of two plans for the morning: "I'm going to the pool to swim and I'll give you treats before you go. I'll be back in an hour." Or the alternative, "Mommy is staying home all morning! As soon as it's light outside we can go to the Dog Park." With this, Doris leaps off the bed and awaits the sunlight.
I must confess that even with this daily ritual, that has been memorized, and repeated daily, once out of bed, dressed and mingling, I have been known to forget a name. "Give me a minute," I'll say as my brain trails through the alphabet.
Although my method is not foolproof, I feel blessed to be of sound mind and body to launch my day with memorized gratitude.