Bodies are memories, constantly remembering how to recreate and repair themselves, with slight deviations, gradually noticed as age.
Bodies – appendages, organs, cells, and genes – also retain a memory of millions of years of evolution, passed offspring to offspring.
Even rocks retain memories of ancient sediments deep in long-gone oceans or in churning fiery depths inside the earth.
Organizations are memories, also remembering how to constantly recreate, repair and maintain, all while learning to adapt. There are restaurants in China that are thousands of years old, governments and their agencies, corporations and their offspring and mutations, all persistent memories.
Without memories, no continuity, no underlying stability, no identity.
During sleep I forget, forget who I am, and dream of strange new identities and settings, shifting from one to the next. I lapse into deep sleep and forget even my dreams. I wake. My body is still here. All my memories are still here – reminding me of my identity, my ambitions and desires, my plans, my worries, my friends and enemies, and what’s in the refrigerator. From nothingness during the night, each day “I” am reincarnated.
And via the Internet we can find how many times and how many people have recorded variations of these thoughts. Together we are the memory of our species.
Now to the most recent reason I started thinking about this:
Tulkus – Passing Memory and Identity from Life to Life