Day 349 – Copier (Words, photos, and other intangibles)

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Are you unique, or are you a copy of others? They say we become our parents, I never believed “them” until I started to see more and more of my Mother’s behaviours in myself. Maybe there is some truth in there….

When you need an idea, where do you go? Do you go inside your own head and dream up something – your words, your thoughts? Or do you jump to the internet and find something you like and convince yourself that it’s what you think too, so you copy it, maybe modify it slightly to make it fit you? I there a person with whom you identify, admire, wish you were more like? Do you copy the words of another, do you take pictures from the internet and post them on your website or blog without appropriate attribution? If you do, you are stealing from others. Copying someone else isn’t good practice, in fact it’s distasteful and a violation to the party being copied. In some cases, like words and memories, perhaps it can be explained because the human mind is a fascinating place that can fill in gaps with information and experiences that aren’t real, or are incorrectly attributed.

There are times when we don’t remember and therefore we convince ourselves that it didn’t happen.

There are also times when we remember things, but they didn’t happen to us at all. We read them or hear them somewhere else but they impacted us somehow and so we make them our own, even though they aren’t.

True or False? When Memories Play Tricks – Craig Stark

“…our brain may only store fragmented, compressed bits of information,” Stark says. “When we retrieve that information, we expand it into a cohesive memory based on what information we’re able to retrieve, potentially leading to these false memories. Of course, once you’ve reconstructed it incorrectly once, you’re probably going to do it again, as that reconstruction probably gets stored away so that next time, you may just retrieve it and misattribute its source.

Stark also points out that “The benign loss of information is usually forgiven. Memory that is not lost but is instead distorted may not be so benign.”

When someone takes your words and uses them as if they were their own, it feels as if that person has reached inside your head and taken pieces of your creativity. It is a violation of a personal nature and not easily forgiven or forgotten. The walls slam up and the doors are locked to that person. But as someone else said, “We have no patent on anything we do and anything we do can be copied by anyone else. But you can’t copy the heart and the soul and the conscience…” – Howard Schultz, Chairman of Starbucks.

Example:

My words written three years ago on my “This is Me”:

… We have forests, mountains, the ocean and rivers. And sandwiched in between all that, is a wonderful city full of diverse cultures and fabulous people in the most wonderful temperate climate imaginable. Not too hot, not too cold, not too anything…just perfect (OK, maybe a little too wet sometimes, but that’s why we have so much lush greenness!). I can’t imagine living here without a camera…in fact, I can’t imagine not living here. I love Vancouver, this Province, and this Country, but I also enjoy travelling elsewhere and learning about new places and new people. …. I love my life, how can I not?…. I own a beautiful little condo on the fringe of the most beautiful city in the world, within minutes of three fabulous ski hills, and within an hour of a world class ski destination. I live 5 minutes from my boat and have access to some of the best boating in the world. I live on the edge of one of the best roads for a quick motorcycle ride on some wonderful curves.

The words written this year on another blog:

The water, mountains, thick temperate forests, dry rolling ragged ranges, and trails offer the perfect fodder for adventures, yet simultaneously serve to expand one’s vision. Kayaking, biking, running, motorcycling, skiing, and yes… even the rain… I love it all. I’m fascinated by the diversity in terrain, cultures, ideas, and people that make this province what it is. Indefinable, unfathomable, and quirky by other provinces’ standards. So be it. Wouldn’t have it any other way.

My words from a couple of years ago:

I am fascinated by human behaviour and often find myself analysing it both in myself and in others. I try to understand why we do the things we do, think the things we think. I am all about critical thinking and exploring all sides of any issue.

Someone else’s very recent words:

I am curious about the choices people make to reach wherever they are currently in their life. For the good or the bad. Often there are distinct events that catalyze shifts in life directions. I get excited when people follow their passions and it shows in their eyes and whole being when they share it. Living authentically, true to myself and in harmony with others. This motivates me.

See why I am creeped out? Really? How do you do that to someone you call a friend? If I saw any of that in a student paper I’d label it outright plagiarism. And those are just the words on the screen. There is also all the other personal copying weirdness and over the top-ness. Pushing too hard into relationships, pushing too hard into people’s lives, hijacking dialogues and relationships. Cyber-stalking? If it was merely a personal blog that would be creepy enough, but all of this is on a site intended for personal financial gain, that definitely magnifies the loss of respect and the sense of violation.

But I take a moment and tell myself that I was the inspired one without self imposed boundaries, and that the sky has never been the limit for me. I have always been a risk taker, afraid, but never frozen by fear, rather, motivated by it. And I am comfortable in my own skin, I’ve never had the need or the desire to reinvent myself or try to be someone I am not. I have had ups and downs, but I’ve dug myself out of holes and enjoyed the view from the highs, but I’ve always been true to who I am and the people in my life. I am me, and I am happy in that fact.

I feel sad for people who can’t find themselves and instead have to take bits of the people they meet or know to invent themselves to try to cobble together something that they think people want? I don’t think I’ll open that door again any time soon, it’s healthier to distance myself since it’s kind of creepy, and why would one want to be around people who steal such personal things, it’s hard to trust them again, and obviously it still rankles. It’s upsetting. It’s hurtful because it leaves one feeling bruised and abused. It’s not flattering, it’s disturbing.

So, are your memories real? Are your words and thoughts really your own? Or did you cull them and make them yours without realizing it, or, worse, with full awareness? Do you know who “You” really are?