Are you interested in memory? Whenever I see ads for memory systems, I’m never interested. It looks incredibly boring and the processes themselves usually involve detailed information that I would need to learn and remember.

On the other hand, I have journaled for many years and let me tell you: I have learned the same things many times. It would have been simpler if I could have remembered some of what I learned the first time. Plus, looking back at my school days, it is kind of sad to realize that so much of that truly enriching knowledge that I learned with some effort does not belong to me anymore.

Apparently, there is a better way. Piotr Wozniak created software called SuperMemo that reminds you of what you have learned at just the right time. From Wired magazine:

SuperMemo is based on the insight that there is an ideal moment to practice what you’ve learned. Practice too soon and you waste your time. Practice too late and you’ve forgotten the material and have to relearn it. The right time to practice is just at the moment you’re about to forget. Unfortunately, this moment is different for every person and each bit of information. Imagine a pile of thousands of flash cards. Somewhere in this pile are the ones you should be practicing right now. Which are they?

Fortunately, human forgetting follows a pattern. We forget exponentially. A graph of our likelihood of getting the correct answer on a quiz sweeps quickly downward over time and then levels off. This pattern has long been known to cognitive psychology, but it has been difficult to put to practical use. It’s too complex for us to employ with our naked brains.

Twenty years ago, Wozniak realized that computers could easily calculate the moment of forgetting if he could discover the right algorithm. SuperMemo is the result of his research. It predicts the future state of a person’s memory and schedules information reviews at the optimal time. The effect is striking.

It kind of freaked me out when Piotr Wozniak, the inventor of SuperMemo, said that we will only be able to learn and remember a couple million new pieces of information in our lifetime. Panic! Must hurry and learn! Then he said, choose what is important to you to learn and I calmed down. Here is what is most important to me to learn and remember:

1. How to be happy
2. How to communicate and interact well and beautifully and kindly and lovingly and joyfully with other humans.
3. How to cook
4. How to make and participate in music
5. How to be healthy
6. How to dance
7. How to learn

I’m already fairly good at learning, and I’m good at finding information. I naturally use the reading method Piotr Wozniak suggests. (I read many books at the same time, coming back to each over and over. I agree that reading that way enhances creativity.) But even though I’m a naturally good learner, I forget a lot. This only really becomes obvious to me this when I look back and see what I used to know.

I downloaded some Supermemo like software, but it wasn’t a breeze to use. I’d like a way to email myself reminders about what I want to remember. I’ll let you know if I find something that works elegantly.

But then comes this one redeeming week. So, The Bachelor, for the wise uninitiated, is this show where they take one guy and 25 women and week after week he whittles down the women from twenty five to one. Da, da, da! You can see how it is just the worst version of the Cinderella story ever. Why do I watch this crap?!

Oh yeah, this week. So, this week, he is down to four women and he gets to visit their families. I should really just watch “The Hometown visit” episodes. I guess what I like about these visits is that their families are always so important to the people. So, during the earlier shows, you see a lot of posing, a la high school, but when people go home, you can really see them being genuine and genuinely caring about their families. Also, their families usually look and act like normal people which is rare to see on TV. I just find it touching.

So, although I DON’T recommend the Bachelor. I do recommend this week’s home town date episode!! Look at the cute families! See how the one dad says that he married his best friend and that’s the best you can do. CUTE!

I want to find me my best friend. (said in a Colorada accent) Where are you best friend? I promise I won’t make you watch the Bachelor with me.

The Bachelor, episode 6. (Skip the earlier ones. They might make you hurl.)

In his new book, he talks about how the different parts of our brain can work together in harmony. There are a few ideas in his book that I’d tweak and some additional information I think would be useful to add that I might talk about in another post. He suggests a lot of homework that I haven’t done yet, so I can’t speak to the effectiveness of this program. I have hung a lot of the affirmations he suggests up in my house and I’m beginning to see the value and wisdom of them.

In his book, he says that, among other parts, we have the emotional legacy of our baby self who had limitless possibilities and was all powerful. About typical affirmations that say that anything is possible he says, do you really want your two year old self running the show? Hmmm… Read below to see they type of statements he suggests you tell yourself.

AWAKEN YOUR STRONGEST SELF: Speaking from Your Higher Brain*
Neil Fiore, PhD

When you, from the perspective and roles of your Strongest Self, speak these compassionate statements to the frightened and overwhelmed parts of you, you can:

• Create inner peace by connecting your identity to something stronger and wiser than your ego
• Transition to a new, robust self-image
• Access support and strength to cope with changing situations and relationships
• Reduce the stress and anxiety of struggling alone, separated from your True Self
• Empower yourself with the protective role, higher perspective, and compassionate voice of your Strongest Self

The following inner dialogue is more powerful than typical affirmations because you are speaking to a part of you that is separated from your larger support system and, therefore, is easily overwhelmed and stressed. You are empowered to protect and guide the parts that have limited––and out-dated––ways of coping with life. You, from your new perspective, can shift to an expanded identity that empowers you to protect your body and smaller “selves” and guide them toward inner peace.

In the compassion voice of your Strongest Self, you replace stress with safety and
connection by saying:

• Regardless of what happens in life, your worth is always safe with me.
• Regardless of what you can or cannot do, you are always worthwhile.
• Regardless of whether you win or lose, you deserve love, pleasure, and freedom from self-criticism.
• Regardless of what happens to you, you deserve to be treated with dignity and respect. I will always respect my life and my body.
• Regardless of who stays or who goes, I am on my side. I will never abandon you. [My tweak: "... I will always stay with you."]
• Regardless of how healthy or ill you become, I appreciate the effort, wisdom, and protection given me by you, my body and my spirit.
• Regardless of how negative or intense your emotions, I acknowledge their validity for you, and I accept them completely. I am strong enough to be with your emotions. [My tweak: "Regardless of how positive, negative, intense or mild..."]
• Regardless of how uncomfortable others are with you, your feelings or your body, I will always accept you and remain at peace with you. [My tweak: "Regardless of how comfortable..."]
• Regardless of what happens in life, and regardless of your problems, I accept you and love you completely.
• Regardless of the health or weakness of my body, I can always heal my spirit.

*Adapted from Awaken Your Strongest Self [McGraw-Hill, 2006] and
Coping with the Emotional Impact of Cancer (BayTree, 2008)

© Neil Fiore, Ph.D., 1998-2007 All rights reserved. Permission is granted to reproduce, copy, or
distribute so long as this copyright notice and the full contact information listed below attached.
Neil Fiore, PhD, 1496 Solano Ave., Albany, CA 94706 voice: 510/ 525-2673
www.neilfiore.com www.yourstrongestself.com E-mail: neil@neilfiore.com

High-school students here rarely get more than a half-hour of homework a night. They have no school uniforms, no honor societies, no valedictorians, no tardy bells and no classes for the gifted. There is little standardized testing, few parents agonize over college and kids don’t start school until age 7.

As I think, and think, and think about what I want to do next with my life, I find that I am still quite interested in education and educational theories.

This article about Fins and the way they do things is really interesting and appeals to my love of simplicity. I would love to give the same amount of money to all schools, rather than by what area the schools are in. I don’t know if I would like less classes for the gifted. I loved the AP classes I took. Hmmm… I DO love the idea of teachers getting to pick out their own curriculum and of intense teacher competition.

What do you think, What Makes Finnish Kids so Smart?

Tags: Fins, education

Doesn’t that sound like a great job? One of my favorite memories is being in art class in high school and working at yes, the wooden tables. Our teacher was kind and she let people who were cutting class hang out in her class. We did art projects and talked and laughed. I actually got some of my art in shows and my high school asked if they could keep one of my drawrings. They framed it and hung it up.

The picture was of a mountain biker and a snowboarder overlaid on top of each other. I saw the pictures in a magazine and superimposed the pictures over each other with the help of a projector. It looked kind of modern arty. I used crayons, markers, pen, and pencil.

I heard you’re looking for a new place?

Why? You found something? Oh let me tell you. The old owner, she die. Now her children, one in Austin, one in Santa Monica, they sell house. People come and look, but no one buy. Is good for me. [looks up] please just one more month, two! No one buy, too expensive! Two million! Old house! But beautiful view, That’s why. Two million! One for him, one for her. I get tired of counting one, one, one, oh too much money I have in my purse! I lost track! Million, never work again.

Oh, daughter, she no eat. She not hungry. She only smoke, oh and drink black coffee. Smoke in one hand, coffee in other. And she have… beer. but no eat. I say, you want some food. She say, no Ester, no. She sits with her head in her hand, like this, poor baby. Poor baby! I try and help. I say, I do some laundry for you? She say, thank you ester. I have pajamas and my bedding. I say, OK.

Her mother, I help her. She die in March, just 4 days, she be 100. 100! She beautiful! Her face, beautiful, and so sweet. She intelligent. books! books, books, books, But her memory gone. She say only, ba, ba, ba, ba, ba. She look a person up all the way down to feet, up! ba, ba, ba, ba bery intelligent, first woman scientist here. I put my hand (she puts her hand on my shoulder) and she [she puts her hand on her shoulder and presses her face against it.] like this. Oh bery sweet.

Daughter look more old!

Nother surprise! Almost 100. No poo poo pee pee in pants. No. Never! Before she die, poo poo 4 times in bed, but never before that. She just uh uh, and I help like this to bathroom, take pants down, I say you up now? unh unh! No, she poo poo. Never diaper! Never! And her face, pink, and she take…[she motions]

earrings and necklace?

yeah, she take and put everyday, here, here, and I close lid. So sweet. I put my hand (she puts her hand on my shoulder) and she [she puts her hand on her shoulder and presses her face against it.] like this. Oh bery sweet.

So, I bery sad. I come out of my house. I live behind. I see the big house, I think oh, Margaret, my baby! But she 100. That’s too much. So, life.

But, no emergency. Maybe soon. You let me know. you tell people, Ester, she’s honest. She’s responsible.

Now, I look for job in the afternoon. I have my son, he’s in graduate school, and my daughter, she In graduate school, and I try to help out. I need one more job. I clean house, but now, I’m tired. They say, oh Ester, I don’t need cleaning today. I say, call, say no need. Gas is too expensive. I call and say, you need cleaning, say oh, my son and husband gone, not today, Ester.

My partner gone today, so I clean all the buildings, up, down. The worst is the classrooms and bathrooms on the first floor. Oh. today, throw up everywhere. in the sink, on the floor. the poo poo here, there, there. oh. Someone write in poo poo on mirror! Oh… I cry. not angry just, I try and make look so nice. oh. I think public can get in down there, maybe not someone from here.

Well, with job here I leave at 1 1:30, nice! So, I look for nother job. You hear? You tell, Ester honest, Ester responsible. I need more money, well, everybody need more money! But, now I think, Ester need more money!

A teacher doesn’t want any of her students to be left out anymore. She proposes a new rule: You can’t say ‘You can’t play.’

Imagine how this rule would have changed the dynamics of the elementary school you grew up in. But the first thing I thought of when I heard this wasn’t how fabulous it would be, how fair things would finally be. I heard the radio program last year (which I can’t find online anywhere,) and all I could think of was how I was finally becoming a person with the ability to say “you can’t play” to people who were treating me badly. From Yes! magazine:

…Paley recounts the long process she and her students went through to determine whether or not such a rule was “fair” and could work.

On the surface, the debate seems to have two sides – the “bosses,” or the children who make up the games and decide who can play versus the rejected children who, for one reason or another, might spoil everyone’s game. But caught in the middle are those who just want to fit in and be liked. Those who fear sticking up for the outcasts because one day they, too, might be told, “You can’t play.”

“I could play alone,” says popular Lisa during one class discussion. “Why can’t Clara play alone?”

“I think that’s pretty sad,” replies the self-sufficient Angelo. “People that is alone, they has water in their eyes.”

“I’m more sad if someone comes that I don’t want to play with,” says Lisa.

Paley intervenes with a question, “Who is sadder, the one who isn’t allowed to play, or the one who has to play with someone he or she doesn’t want to play with?”

“It’s more sadder if you can’t play,” Clara pipes up.

“The other one is the same sadder,” says Lisa.

“It has to be Clara, because she puts herself away in her cubby. And Lisa can still play every time,” says Angelo.

I don’t know. As an elementary school kid, I definitely identified with the kids in the middle. I desperately wanted to fit in, and I ached to be popular, but I was bold too. I would be friends with the outcasts despite my fears. I didn’t want anyone to be left out. Now I identify a little more with Lisa! I’m tired of including some people. I think maybe there is a reason they are left out. Maybe the people who are left out need some social skills training. That reminds me of a story… Part 2

There is an interesting study in the book How Full Is Your Bucket? Positive Strategies for Work and Life by Tom Rath and Donald O. Clifton. It talks about POW’s becoming hopeless just because they lose a sense of camaraderie. So, to prevent curling up in a corner and dying (POW fate) this book is exhorting people to fill each other’s buckets, to uplift, and encourage each other.

I read the entire book in Borders last night. I left my house when everyone in it was having dinner together but me. I walked out, said a cheery “Ciao!” and pretended I had somewhere to go. It was late, I started driving, and wondered where I should go. I was crying so it had to be somewhere dark. I stopped by the movies but it would be over an hour until the next one started. I had gotten a slightly manic email from my mom earlier in the day saying we had 6 Christmas parties to go to and that you never know when you will meet a man! Umm.. am I in the middle of Bridgit Jones’s Diary? Suddenly the vacation I was looking forward to didn’t sound so cheery. Then my best friend went off and went skating without me, and, to top it off, there was the cheery Christmas scene at my house that I was left out of. So, I went to Borders.

I bought one book and read another. I felt immensely better after hiding in the craft section and reading How Full Is Your Bucket? Positive Strategies for Work and Life. I highly recommend this very simple book and might get a copy for everyone I know. I also made an interesting sociological discovery: Business books are just self-help books that use the word “business” in them and are in the business section!! They are self-help books for men! I just discovered a whole new place to browse. Then I went and got me some onion rings.

My roommate’s parents are here. They look at me and speak to me. They are sweet and it feels really good. Like my roommates, they eat my food. Unlike my roommates, they also share. I finished school today. I am now a “master.” I gave my 30 days notice to my roommate/landlord. I’m going to the movies tonight with friends. Yesterday my bucket was drained. Today it is filling up again. Goodnight! I hope someone is loving you and filling your bucket. If not, I hope you can do something extra sweet for yourself. Sometimes onion rings help.

Because memories are state dependent, I have been remembering some of my most depressing birthdays today. The one I remember the most today is my 18th birthday. My mom and I had moved into another family’s basement, who were friends of ours. Our carpet was plaid. There was sparkly sprayed-on stuff on the ceiling. We had dark wood paneling on all the walls, except for the wall that had the giant picture of a beach on it. No, this wasn’t in the 70’s, but it might have looked a little like a ghetto version of an Austin Powers movie.

I felt embarrassed by my lack of money often while I was growing up. But on that birthday I felt most embarrassed that my mom was throwing my birthday party. It was sort of like a little kid’s party, but it might have been fine if not for her serious miscalculation resting on the faulty premise that surprise = fun. I knew about the party. That wasn’t a surprise. I was helping to prepare for it. (Surprise might have something to do with fun if it gets you out of the preparation.) The big surprise was: I had invited all these people and none of them were coming! Surprise!

After about the 5th phone call that night saying someone couldn’t come, (I lie I can’t remember how many phone calls there were,) I talked to my friend K. She had been my friend since we were in 4th grade. Apparently we were in nursery school together. It was my 18th birthday. She said she couldn’t come to my 18th birthday party because her mom wanted her to stay home and get some things done. I was incredulous, I knew her nice mom, “Are you serious? But it’s my birthday! Ask her if you can just come for a little while!” I pleaded. Later she told me that she felt really bad doing that. Of course she did! That is not a fun birthday surprise! What was my mother thinking!

After everyone actually showed up, (much to my mixed emotions,) we played stupid games. At least that’s what the people-who-weren’t-really-my-friends-but-we-were-in-the -same-circle-of-friends-so-I-sort-of-considered-them-friends-and-invited-them-like -you-do-with-distant-relatives-when-you-invite-them-to-a -wedding-even-though-you- have-no-emotional-ties-whatsoever said. Then the cou de ta of humiliation: My big 18th birthday present from my family (ie: my mother.) If the party in it’s entirety wasn’t embarrassing enough, if it didn’t just emphasize that no matter how much I tried to pretend, I did not have a happy, well-to-do, or socially ept family, I then had to open my present in front of my friends. I wasn’t surprised, (and I don’t think at that point that they were either,) to find that my present was 18 pairs of socks, each one a different color. For years after that I wore those mustard yellow, purple, bright pink, or lime green socks when it was laundry day, or when I was walking around inside. I always put them on grudgingly. I’m very happy to say that none of those socks are with us now.

The whole party was worthy of being a scene in that one movie where the kid had a big fro, and lives in a small town. (Ever since I turned 25 I often can’t remember the precise words for things. That fits in with this post because that’s depressing too, and has to do with age.) I now find my mom’s presents charming, and she usually adds a check to the mix (that was weird) which helps. On this current birthday, my mom’s present was the only thing that was not depressing. Quirky seems cooler to me now that I am older. On my cat in the hat birthday card, she gave me a message in binary, hex and decimals. I told her I was tickled by her card. “Well, she said, “I just kept trying to think: what is special about 32?” It’s 2 to the power of 5, that’s what!

What a recipe for alienation. By the time they reach an age to think about what they’d like to do, most kids have been thoroughly misled about the idea of loving one’s work. School has trained them to regard work as an unpleasant duty. Having a job is said to be even more onerous than schoolwork. And yet all the adults claim to like what they do. You can’t blame kids for thinking ‘I am not like these people; I am not suited to this world.

Read more about How to Do What You Love.