I would like, if I may, to take time to remember Marcel Proust, French scholar and father to the "madeline moment". In the early 1900s during the winter of his career, Proust took a bite of a madeline cookie and became consumed by memories of his childhood racing back to him. This wave of memory inspired him to write In Search of Lost Time, one of the greatest novels of the century.
While we non-French scholar folk may not be able to write a whole novel about them, we can all relate to the madeline moment--that one awesome moment in time where some random occurrence spurs a chain of memory and we relive those sweet, forgotten childhood moments.
Today when I
was in the shower I felt especially tired decided to lie down flat on my back
and let the water wash down on my body--a once routine move that I had not done in ages. Almost the second my back touched the shower floor, my forgotten memories came alive in my mind. I remembered how I used to lie on the shower floor as a young girl and pretend that I was a castaway orphan in an Italian village lying poor and naked in the rain. I imagined all the other warm, finely clothed villagers looking at me and thinking "Oh how sad, the poor girl" and then they'd walk along their way. I'd close my eyes and let the heavy rain wash down on me as I laid in exhibition for the entire quaint, Italian village.
I don't know what me pretending to be a poor, naked, starving Italian girl in the rain meant or what it's supposed to say about my character or upbringing. All I know is that it felt really good to rediscover that lost pastime I used to enjoy so much. It was relaxing, familiar. It felt almost comforting to pretend I was out on display.
I love you madeline moments. <3
