Tag Archives: memory

Good Sex = Good Memory

Good Sex = Good Memory

 Bad Sex = Longer Bad Memories

 How We Remember What We Remember


I was inspired by blog stories by Stella Marr http://secretlifeofamanhattancallgirl.wordpress.com/about/


            Her stories brought up a set of emotions that I thought I forgot forever. Although my stories are about different people and very different situations, they share the core elements: they are also honest to the bone, raw, gut-wrenching, real, and descriptive, to the point that you feel that foul alcohol breath straight through your computer monitor.

            I recently published my first book where I share my perspective about those things that influence people to do what we do. Our memories shape our lives, our actions, and our reactions to the conditions that resemble what we experienced some time in the past. From the moment of inception, we remember, consciously or subconsciously, everything we hear, smell, taste, touch, feel, and think about; we remember ideas and emotions, we remember it all, from birth to death. The reason some memories stay fresh for a month, a year, or for life, is because they were written using stronger and stronger emotions.


The following I copied from my book.


            In a way, emotions assign the tools with which the memories are recorded.


Special Memories Come with Keys, Like Charms on a Necklace

            In my early twenties, I fell in love. I was young and inexperienced in handling emotions. Although many years went by filling my memory banks with other experiences, I can still recall the sensations, the emotions, and the feelings I had back then. That relationship did not work out. And even though I have not seen her for decades, I still remember. The stronger the feelings, the longer the memory will last.

            I used to enjoy playing music, including five years of music school with classes at least three times a week, and tons of practice. After my graduation, I put the instrument in the closet, and when found it a year later, I could not play a single tune, even with the music sheets. So how is it that maybe 50 aggregate hours of sex during several months of relationship linger in my memory for several decades, while what I learned in over 1,500 hours of lessons over five years, vanished from the memory in less than a year?

            Why is it that every time I see a redhead, I remember the redheaded girl, my childhood friend? Actually, playing with her was more trouble than fun. To this day, I have no redheaded friends.

            Fear is another key—more powerful emotion than love, in terms of memorability. Although I’ve had my share of gruesome frightening memories, I would rather talk about the brain and memory by using pleasant experiences.

            Her skin was soft and velvety. Her scent, lightly sweet, with a hint of vanilla, reminded me of the scent of the hair of a toddler. Her eyes were dark, big, and deep as an ocean. We were kissing, cuddling and kissing some more. Our hands caressed each other’s skin, and it felt as though we didn’t have enough hands and enough fingers to touch and caress the entire body, all at the same time. Her lips kissed every spot on my body. Hot, moist and insatiable, they wanted more, and more, and more. At times, when I had my eyes closed, it felt as though I was in her lips, between them, as though I was within them, inside and out. We had to take short breaks from giving each other pleasure. When she kissed my hand, or arm, or leg, or stomach, that part would experience such intensity of sensation, it felt as though my heart moved in there. Sometimes it felt as though my heart was in my stomach or in my throat, or in my calf. She would start kissing and caressing that part, and after some time, that part of my body would get hot. I would start feeling my heartbeat in there. Then it would start throbbing with pleasurable sensations. The pleasure would increase to the point of becoming mixed with discomfort, to dull pain, to intense pain mixed with intense pleasure. When we stopped, it was only to catch some breath. Between the periods of cuddling, caressing and kissing, we would interlock our genitals for the dance of life, with the rhythm of the blinking star. Going inside her was not a treat, it was an ever-evolving journey, sometimes boisterous, rough, relentless, merciless, like the heavy storm waves pounding the rocky cliff; every time exploding, roaring with the raucous unbridled spirit. Sometimes it was a calm voyage with slow, warm, long waves running up the fine sand of a tropical beach, breaking up in tiny white bubbles, absorbed by the thirsty sand without a whisper. Oozing from the inside out, spouting from the outside in was the nectar of love, saturating, insisting, permeating, invading, remarkable, unstoppable. We relished in its tangy presence and let our bodies drink up the elixir of life.

            Sex, love making, it was not. It was beyond sexual gratification, beyond physical pleasures, beyond intimate closeness, beyond emotional fulfillment. They were voyages, not intercourse, not oral sex, not kissing. They were voyages; voyages into a different realm of existence, out of our bodies and into the unity, the boundless unity with everything. Not daily, not with any schedule, not with any kind of arrangements, these expeditions would start with a barely perceptible look in each other’s eyes, an unspoken understanding that it was time for another journey, a trip into the abyss of pleasure and mystery. Each trip had a life of its own. It would start seemingly on its own, and last for four, six, twelve hours, and one time, close to three full nights and three full days. It was only upon our arrival, that we could somehow get a grip on reality and time. During these trips, however, the notion of time seemed to disappear, and neither of us was even vaguely aware of the existence of time or the word “time” itself.

            My body would feel as though it was spreading into hers, as though I was dissolving in her, and she was dissolving into me. Our spirits and our bodies would become one, like water blends with milk. I knew every sensation she had, and she knew every sensation I had. We knew each other’s thoughts and feelings. When we looked into each other’s eyes, we were able to talk to each other without uttering a single word. This way, we talked about clouds, rain, water, jumping in the puddles, how we first rode a tricycle. She would tell me about flowers and dresses, and music and fire, and I would tell her about bridges and energy, and war and the planet. We were not talking per se, but communicating without words, without gestures, without signals. Wide varieties of new knowledge would just appear before us, within our reach, not requiring any effort to understand or share. We even played with each other by trading where we were. With just a momentary look into each other’s eyes, we could swap places; I would go into her world and into her body, and she into mine. Momentarily I would feel as though I was her, feeling the weight of my body pressing on her, the fullness of her breasts, her finger nails, her long and curly hair under my back, I felt my penis in her, the way it was pushing up and up and up, with every stroke rubbing by her heart reaching her throat.

            While being her, I saw bright and colorful fields of flowers; I was hopping on a cloud, and bathing nude in a pond, under the waterfall. I felt how the flow of water agreed with the curves of her body, and how her nipples hardened against the flow. While being me, she said that she was uncomfortable with my wider shoulders; that she felt like flexing the stronger arm muscles. She didn’t feel feminine with the larger feet, and my penis was sticking out and was getting in the way; she said it pulled her pubic skin and felt heavy and demanding.

            We both enjoyed playing this fun game, and we laughed and laughed. We could start it in a moment, and go back to our own selves just as fast.

            Sometimes we would venture out into the world of trees and rivers. We would be holding hands as we approached a big old tree, and then we’d hug it, pressing our chests and chins into the bark. A moment later we would become that tree, see its life, see how it goes to sleep in the winter, and how it wakes up in the spring. We felt the heat from forest fires, the tree’s thirst during droughts. Tapping the wisdom of the tree was unparalleled. To stand in one place, stand there no matter what, experiencing the world day after day, year after year for hundreds of years is an experience wide as the horizon, and as profound as the night sky. Nothing was puzzling; nothing was difficult. Everything had its place, except for time. We only thought about time upon our arrival to our ordinary selves. While we were traveling, the present was in the past, and the past was in the present, and the future was there, too. The present, past and future were one. It was confusing, and amusing, but only afterwards. While in there, it was pure bliss.

            I remember that her breath smelled like the breath of a baby after nursing: warm, sweet and contented. My hands remember the feel of her silky hair curls.



Why several decades later, do I still remember?

And why don’t I remember what I had for lunch yesterday?



            The brain has its own rules for remembering. It puts most of life experiences on the back burner, while keeping selective few perpetually hot. The more emotionally charged an experience, the longer we will remember it. Emotions accompany all of our experiences. The deeper our emotions during an event, the deeper it gets carved into the memory.

            The longevity of the message depends on how that message was recorded. A sand castle will stand until the next tide. “Wash me” on the hood of a dusty car will last until the first rain, or car wash. But deeply engraved in stone, “Bob was here” will last an eternity. Emotions assign value to every signal, every bit of information entering our consciousness. In a way, emotions assign the tools with which the memories are recorded.

            Low emotional value, and the message will dissipate like smoke in the air. Sitting in the company kitchen yesterday, eating something homemade, is what happens when the emotionally assigned value to my lunch was low. I remember only that I ate—and ate “something” I brought from home. What I brought from home I can’t remember. Why? Because my lunch was uneventful.

            Four days ago, on the weekend, I went with my son to get a burger and a cup of coffee. I like Starbucks regular coffee. A Starbucks was next to the burger place. Since I was inside the burger place, I thought, coffee is coffee is coffee, what’s the difference? After drinking the coffee I bought from that burger place, I had a headache until I went to bed. That’s the difference. I don’t remember anything about the burgers, but four days later, I remember the coffee because it was accompanied by physical discomfort, a headache.

            My emotions—being upset and disappointed—were involved. Will I remember this story a year from now? I doubt it for my emotions wrote the message by using a finger on the dust.

            However, that young love affair will probably stay with me for the rest of my life. At the time, the emotions were so strong the memories were recorded by chiseling them in stone.


This is the end of the excerpt from my book.


            As you can see, I’m not comparing my notes with Stella. She has her memories, I have mine, and you have yours. What I wanted to convey is that we all share the process of remembering. Rape victims, abused children, and soldiers suffer from PTSD. The Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is based on our memories. If we could find a way to select certain memories and make them less intrusive, less painful, less persistent, then people who survived the worst of what humans are capable of, then we can go on with our lives. Instead, people with PTSD are stuck, they are nailed to their memories.

            As they retell these stories, they relive, they re-experience the emotions, the sensations, the pain again, and again, and again. Soldiers do not like to talk about their nasty memories. Do you know why? Because it is unspeakably painful to re-live through that again.

            What Stella is doing is what soldiers with PTSD don’t want to do. She shares her memories and by doing so, she re-lives, re-experiences those events again, and again, and again. Do you think she’s become immune to the pain? No. She fights her pain so others may live.


Stella, our hats off to you.


Stay strong and stubborn,


Your friend, Alexander Nestoiter


Power of Balance

Balance Training

         Human balance system resides in the inner ear. Although small in size, the organ has profound influence on our physical, emotional, and mental state. In addition to the functions of balance, the inner ear also functions as the center hub for all sensory input. Moreover, the inner ear is pre-processing center for the nervous system.

         As you know the nervous system plays an important role all areas of our physical and emotional lives. Positive changes can be established with exercising/training the different systems of the inner ear to work better. Balance training is one of such activities.

         Balance training is very task-specific. Having good balance in one task does not mean you also become the master of another balance task. For example, knowing how to ride a bicycle does not make one ready to ice skate, or roller blade, or walk the tightrope.

         Tightrope walking is a very intense and difficult balance activity to master mainly because it physically places left side of our body on the left side of the rope and our right side of the body on the right of the rope. The diameter of the rope, its width, is that tiny area where balance can be established.

         Balance training that simulate tightrope walking also does another thing that under normal conditions cannot be accomplished. It MAKES the left and right brain hemispheres communicate with each other without overpowering one another. As you know the left brain is in control of the right side of the body, while the right brain controls the left side of the body. One reason we have two halves of one brain is because of sheer incompatibility of traits. Just because the two brain halves live in one head, does not mean they want the same thing, or that they coordinate their desires through a third party. There is no third party. The two brain halves do not see eye to eye and often compete for dominance. That’s why balance on a tightrope is so hard to maintain.

         But what can this balance do for us? For example, we all know people who are very artistic, free-going, free-flowing, free spirits. They probably are good at various arts, playing musical instruments, singing, dancing, or painting, etc. This set of skills shows pronounced dominance of the right brain.

         People with pronounced left brain dominance, like control, structure, discipline, rules, and logic. They probably read many books, like things spelled out to them, figuratively and literally. They get upset when something is out of order, when someone doesn’t do what they should do. They want the world to be made of nice, even, entirely symmetrical squares that can easily be manipulated, but only to a certain degree.

         If you give them a different shape, they will not know what to do with it. But they are masters of their own shape. They are probably not emotionally savvy, because emotions reside in the right brain, while logic, language, and thoughts, reside in the left brain.

         Balancing that simulates tightrope, takes that hemisphere incompatibility and the desire to be dominant and puts them on a short leash. Using our physical body, we place specific demands on the brain, and the brain learns. Slowly, but it learns. When you train with the system that simulates tightrope, you teach the two halves of the brain to collaborate. You train them not to compete for dominance.

         You make the more powerful side a little less dominant, while you make the less powerful side a bit more powerful. All this is accomplished through specific demands that you place on your body, like trying to maintain balance while one foot is in front of another on a very narrow, oval, walking surface.

         All this is nice to know, but how does this knowledge benefit me? Is that what you’re thinking? The dominance of one brain hemisphere over another leads to a life that is very rich in one area, but is also very poor in the other. A person with a dominant left brain, will probably be an intellectual, who reads a lot, who follows rules and schedules. But chances are this person is bankrupt when it comes to matters of emotions, compassion, artistic skills, ability to relax or dream.

         On the other hand, a person with the dominant right brain will probably be very artistic, emotionally savvy and in touch with his or her emotions, can help others with emotional problems. This person can probably dance, or sing, or play a musical instrument, but don’t expect much when it comes to keeping commitments, schedules, maintaining logic and coherence in what they do or say things.

         I don’t have scientific proof for this, and I don’t know if current technology can offer such proof, but here is something I’d like you to consider and use your own common sense. We all know that ADD and ADHD are due to the brain not working fast enough. For this, people take medication, artificial stimulants. My question to you is, if there are a lot of very talented, even gifted individuals with ADD, how is it that their brain is not working fast enough?

         I think the better question is which hemisphere is not working fast enough? When a person, young or not, cannot read for more than five minutes, when they cannot keep their focus on the teacher during class, when they want to leave the class before the bell rings or are frequently late to classes. What brain hemisphere is slacking off? Do you see my point? And they get pills that stimulate the entire brain, both the left and the right hemispheres just so only the left hemisphere would pick up the speed.

         The medication stimulates both hemispheres and makes the overactive side even more hyper. So, how do you expect a person to keep the schedule, pay attention to the teacher, do homework for two, three hours straight when they are overfilled with emotions like joy, or sadness, or envy, or longing? How can they follow rules and be obedient when they hear music and drums and guitars in their heads that are playing so loud they feel like they are at a concert? I don’t know of any pill that can stimulate only a particular area in the brain. Pills stimulate the entire brain.

         Here is where tightrope style training is going to actually address the problem: calm down the overactive part of the brain, and stimulate the underactive part. Falling down on the ground is one of the biggest fears for humans. That’s why balancing on a tightrope style devise creates a boost of energy and processing speed from the brain to help it deal with the threat of falling down. Since we physically force our body to remain balanced on top of that tightrope, we MAKE the two brain hemispheres communicate with each other without overpowering one another. The extra energy and brain speed given to deal with the threat of losing balance and falling makes the two hemispheres work faster, but not just faster, equally faster.

         Such balance training is needed for those who suffer from PTSD and related problems, like rape. Those who have faced the ugliest of what a man can do, are overwhelmed with emotions and memories that wouldn’t go away. Persistent memories are hunting and haunting these people day and night.

         They take antidepressant drugs and medication for anxiety, and something for psychosis. The purpose of the medication is to stop the scary episodes, but what else are they also stopping? Everything else that is normal and good, that’s what else they are stopping. In order to reduce or remove the episodes, the flashbacks, the nightmares, the hallucinations, they turn a person into a living soulless zombie who cannot appreciate the blue sky, and the family around them. On medication they cannot feel as they used, they cannot have emotions as they used, they cannot interact with others as they used. They feel less, they care less, they enjoy less; they are less alive. They become indifferent to things, to people, to family, to life itself.

         Did their medication help? Yes, it stopped or reduced the scary episodes, but it also reduced these people into soulless creatures.

         Well that’s a side effect of the drugs, their doctors would say. Do you know why doctors keep treating these symptoms with medication that fixes one problem, but creates two new ones? Because it’s profitable. You have problems, you make a visit. They prescribe something. You try, then you go back to them because it doesn’t work. Now they prescribe something else. And again, you go back to them either for refills or because it doesn’t work. But you still go back to them. And each time you visit your doctor, the doctor gets paid for that visit.

         If the doctors would prescribe balance treatment, then physical therapy offices would get the business, not them. And when you realize that all you really need in that physical therapy office is a piece of two by four or a piece of steel water pipe, then you do your therapy at home and don’t even let the physical therapy office make any money off your problem.

         Of course, things could get worse, like four or six months of training will cure you of your nightmares, and of your hallucinations, and other scary episodes. Who is going to make money off of your problem know, the hardware store?

         When something isn’t being used, ask yourself to follow the money. Where will the money flow? Who will benefit from a cured you? Is that you? Your family? The economy? Yes.

         Will the doctor, with his $100,000 student loan benefit? Will his family? Doctors are not paid based on end result. You know that. They are paid for the services rendered. The more services they render, the more money they make. The successful resolution from those services does not give them a bonus. It gives them nothing.

         That’s why they will be telling you not to listen to this crap called balance training. How can they charge for balance training when patients can do it at home, without any supervision, without any monitoring, without any help from them? They can’t charge for that. So they will not prescribe it or endorse it. Count my words, you will not see doctors or hospitals, or pharmaceutical companies endorsing this idea. But that’s ok, I don’t answer to them. I answer to a higher authority.

         For now, this is all I have to say on the matter. I’ve given you the truth to the best of my knowledge and abilities. It is up to you now. Decide. May God help you with your decision.




Alexander Nestoiter, author of:


Incredible Ah-ha Moments: Ideas you won’t stop talking about.