Chapter 3 Memory of Heaven
What’s past is prologue.
- William Shakespeare, The Tempest
Dr Virgil began the session with this short lesson.
“CW, before we can move forward in life, we often need to look backwards.
"To rediscover the past events that shaped us.
"Unfortunately, too many people are amnesiacs. They have forgotten their history. Or, suppress it.
"To rediscover the past events that shaped us.
"Unfortunately, too many people are amnesiacs. They have forgotten their history. Or, suppress it.
“I want you to close your eyes and go to an early memory of childhood. A time that feels like heaven. When you can see that moment, keep your eyes closed and describe what you see, hear, smell, touch, feel…
“Yes, I can see it.
“The sky is Aegean blue. Dragonflies dart and draw flame around me.
"I hear the fairie sound of wind chimes.
“The sky is Aegean blue. Dragonflies dart and draw flame around me.
"I hear the fairie sound of wind chimes.
“It’s funny, I wouldn’t have known it then. But I can hear them clearly. They are tuned to a pentatonic E minor.
“I’m standing in Mommy’s garden lightly petting the newly sprouted fiddle-head ferns.
“Mommy walks up beside me. I can smell the perfume that she always wore in springtime.
“Her linen dress billows out and touches my cheek. ‘She’s Athena’ I think to myself.
"Ha, I don’t know where that thought comes from. Maybe she was already reading the myths to me. She dearly loved them.
"Ha, I don’t know where that thought comes from. Maybe she was already reading the myths to me. She dearly loved them.
“She asked me what I was doing.
‘Mommy, these ferns are so beautiful. I love the way they unfold. But there’s something weird about them. I don’t have a word for it. They aren’t like the violets or the clover.’
‘Mommy, these ferns are so beautiful. I love the way they unfold. But there’s something weird about them. I don’t have a word for it. They aren’t like the violets or the clover.’
“She made the slightest gasp and then spoke in the gentlest and yet proudest way I had heard up to that time.
‘Oh, Leif, you see it. The fiddle-head fern is magical, honey. It knows the secret of the Fibonacci sequence.
‘Oh, Leif, you see it. The fiddle-head fern is magical, honey. It knows the secret of the Fibonacci sequence.
‘And, now that you see it, you’ll find it everywhere. In sea shells and pineapples.
'Everyone sees it. Few notice it.’
'Everyone sees it. Few notice it.’
“Then she bent down and hugged me.
“That day was heaven.”
Dr Virgil let CW sit with the memory for a few minutes. Then asked, “What do you learn from this?”
“I’m not sure. But I haven’t felt this peaceful in years.
“I must have been in kindergarten.
“The most, how should I put it, electric?–maybe–part of the memory is hearing the way Mommy pronounced ‘Fibonacci.’ It sounded exotic and beautiful at the same time.
“I still feel a tiny joy when I come across the sequence.
“Strange, I just remember that I included the word in a report a few years ago, and a colleague who always finds ways to put me down said, ‘Thanks for showing off your er-u-dition, Mister Smarty Pants. Let’s get back to analyzing the financials.’ He laughed. But everyone shifted uncomfortably.
“It was a tiny knife in my heart. I haven’t used it from that time until just now.”
As you read this ask yourself:
- CW is in “hell.” Why does Dr Virgil begin by asking him to see an early moment in “heaven”?
- What elements of the memory stand out to me?
- What role does his mother play?
- How does CW’s understanding of music (E minor pentatonic scale) and the Fibonacci sequence foreshadow his future life and career?
- Do I identify with CW? In what ways?
- How well do I remember the lessons of my life?
- Have I learned the right lessons?
- What is an early memory of “heaven” for me?