I believe in G-d, it's memory I have a problem with. I just composed that aphorism. It could be taken to mean that saying you believe in G-d is not enough, you have to remember and follow through by putting your belief into your life. I meant something else.

Memory might be life's greatest mystery. Why do we remember? Also, how, what when, and where do we remember? The rhythm and rationale of memory is mind boggling. While claiming we don't rely on memory, we rely on it at all times. I couldn't be typing at this moment if I wasn't recalling myriad pieces of information allowing me to sit and move my fingers and transfer thoughts of my head into words on the screen. These words I'm writing, am I in control of them? I often think of ideas I'd like to blog and then I forget them, and the few that remain get posted.

Of particular interest is what people remember of what we say one to another. Part of the issue is the context in which we speak in the first place. There are many reasons other than communicating behind why we speak.

Some people are uncomfortable with silence between themselves and others to the extent that they'll say anything - including very personal information - as a way of supplanting the unbearable quiet. We also talk as a means of passing time. These are two prime examples of how people say things without the content being important per se.

Rav Moshe Feinstein was once asked how he remembered so much of what he learned. He said that when you experience something you remember it; every time he learned something it was an experience for him - so that's why he remembered it. Memory might not be the correct word for this; when you take something in as it happens it stays with you and doesn't need to be recalled. I have a friend who often surprises people by telling them about things they went through together many years ago. When they ask him, "How do you remember that?" he says simply, "I was there."