Today's long read began like many, me wondering if it would be a slog or a surprise. It was the latter. The article was on aphantasia, a lack of mental imagery, and its opposite, hyperphantasia. an overabundance of mental imagery. Of course, most of us, including me, are of the middle. But that middle, like any spectrum, has its range. I saw myself of the opposite of aphantasia and near the other, hyper.
It didn't begin that way, though. My first connection was a naming of a phenomenon that I've found happening to me more and more. I'm sitting on the couch, having come home from subbing or walking or errands, and treating myself to a bit of reading. But then, for a few moments, I drift off. Reading one moment and the next few, I'm in a dream state of images having nothing to do with anything. It's discombobulating. But, like a lot of this article, it's reassuring (interesting) to find there's a name for my condition.
Reading on,* I find myself more and more. Sometimes it's me in the opposite, like the first passage. I was once told I had a strong sense of self, which came as a surprise to me, because I reflect on most everything that is said to me. It was interesting to find this definition. But the other two passages? Me in a nutshell. I've had another friend tell me, while walking, that she thinks I miss parts of conversations because I'm in my head, with the last passage perfectly describing my mind in so much of my life.
Then there came some examples of me and how images have (too) much power. I avoid graphic images, (to protect myself) but can read what I can't watch. (Think In Cold Blood. Could read. Think me leaving the movie theatre within minutes of trying to watch The Exorcist and not sleeping alone in my bed for a week, or Fatal Attraction, leaving after just a few because I was having such a visceral reaction to it.) I also don't watch the movie version of books I have loved, for the most part, because my connection is too strong to allow others in. (Call me inflexible; friends have.)
Finally, there's the end, back with Nick, the one with aphantasia from the beginning. While having found examples of ways that aphantasia can be beneficial, he searched for aids - like video cameras - but found the idea lacking. Our memories make us, and I can't imagine not having them, even as I know that they can be a distraction to a hindrance at times. It has, too, taken me years to realize my memories might not be totally accurate, but they are mine and they make, and remake, me.
And so, quite the morning for me. A time travel to my own mind through the minds of others. Memories flooded my reading. Keeping track of my ability and connection to mental images, I also had to track the images that weren't of me (on either end of the condition) but still described me. In short it was a morning of traipsing through the forest of my mind, losing and finding myself before alighting, once again, in this very real day.
The irony of it all was not lost on me. An article about mental images creating more mental images, with the solution being.... this piece.
Mind Boggling
*An aside: this article is a perfect example of how I describe the New Yorker's writing to people. Often on a topic I know little about (which is most of the articles), it begins with one person's story before expanding out to others', all while giving facts, reasoning and explanations on the topic at hand. Each person leads us to another, until finally ending back where we started, in this case, Nick. I love this style of people-forward writing. I learn so much but through a medium of my comfort: people.
Ps: One of my first thoughts when reading was, yes, a mental image of us watching Fantasia, the Disney movie of images and music. Ah, of course.
