Replay

A few years back my wife mentioned she wanted our big terra cotta planter moved from the kitchen out to the garage. It was about 2.5 feet in diameter, 2 feet tall and full of dirt. Lots and lots of dirt. One evening, I thought I’d move it by myself.

Anyway, the only way I could really move it was to grab the rim of the planter between my thumbs and fingers with a pinch grip, (the same way you might grab a really big piece of cardboard) lift it and unceremoniously waddle toward my destination. I made it through one doorway and then ever so slightly bumped into doorjamb #2. It wasn’t much contact at all, but just enough for me to lose the tenuous purchase I had on the rim. It fell all of 6 inches and broke under its own weight. Somehow I was able to replay the event in my mind mind 2-3 times in less than a second before I fully realized I wasn’t going to be able to catch it in time. Gravity can be a harsh mistress.

The same thing happened to me again today: I didn’t break a planter, but I had the “replay” experience immediately after I broke a pane of glass I was moving. Again, I had the surge of surprise, then anger and the sinking feeling of having broken something, and the instant review of the sound of the glass breaking and the feel of suddenly holding two pieces of glass instead of one. Again with the gravity!

The replay creates a feeling of helplessness. There is nothing I can do to fix either situation and in both cases I recognized the risk beforehand, anyway. I suppose that if I hadn’t been so integral in both events, the replay might help me make sense of what happened—maybe that why our brains do it. If a tree branch falls on us, the replay might help us see or hear something that we hadn’t noticed before. Or maybe it gives our brains a chance to fabricate some additional sign or signal that could help us next time.

But it’s probably most important to realize that if the replay isn’t helping you understand something better, it’s probably not worth watching.