I think this is the most valuable thing I own: my Apple Photos drive.
It's filled with snapshots from the past decade.
In theory, these photos are just digital air: snapshots from the past few decades stored somewhere in the cloud.
In practice, they feel much heavier and more concrete than digital files. This mosaic of colorful rectangles is a portal to my memories.
If someone deleted all these photos, I'd feel as though a part of my history, story, and identity were erased. I'm not sure I'd feel that lost if I didn't have my car or my fancy watch - both of which cost much more monetarily. These digital photos are as heavy as a human life.
As I get older, these photos become even more precious
Every year after age 25 has felt like it's passing faster and after. And after 30 - boy - time seems to accelerate even more.
It's Friday 31 January 2025 as I write this. Imagine waking up tomorrow to discover it's not 1 February 2025, but 1 February 2026 – I'd feel cheated, as though someone had stolen a year from my life in my sleep.
But it's actually not so different from reaching the end of 2025 with the crushing realization that the year has slipped away like fine sand through my fingers - an unmemorable blur.
The passing of time itself isn't the problem. I'm lucky to witness time pass by. And I wouldn't want time to pass so slowly that it feels like it's dragging on and on.
What's scary to me is time passing without anything memorable happening. What's scary is when December comes and I can barely distinguish February from June. What’s scary is when life feels like you’re on 2x speed and you can’t rewatch and repeat.
Let’s talk about time blur
To understand why this blurring of time happens – and how to prevent it – we need to understand 4 key principles about how our brains process time and memory:
(1) Time's relativity: There's a fundamental difference between objective and subjective time. Two hours stuck in traffic feels much longer than two hours watching an engrossing film.
This principle applies on a much larger scale through something called "The Holiday Paradox": when you're exploring Rome, time flies by. But when you're looking back on the trip later, that time feels expansive and rich with experiences. In contrast, waiting in an airport queue before your trip to Rome feels endless at the moment. But in retrospect, it's barely made a dent in your memory.
(2) Time's proportionality: As we age, each period of time becomes a smaller fraction of our total life experience. When you're ten, five years feels like an eternity because it's half your life. At twenty-five, those same five years are only a fifth of your existence.
This simple mathematics helps explain why time seems to accelerate as we age. Repeating 20% more of something probably feels much quicker than experiencing 50% of something. This might be one reason why time seems to accelerate when we age (though the scientific evidence on this is mixed).
(3) Time's Elasticity: Novel experiences expand our perceptions of time; similar experiences compress our perception of time. This makes our perception of time elastic.
New experiences expand our sense of time because our brains pay more attention to the unfamiliar and so encode it more strongly in our memories. In contrast, our brains don't light up in the same way in response to similar experiences - the days begin to blur into one (the days of COVID lockdowns, anyone?).
(4) Time's Amplifiers: While novel experiences create the foundation for memorable moments, two factors amplify their impact on our memory:
Emotional Intensity: Moments of high emotion - whether joy, fear, or wonder - are encoded more strongly in our memories. That's why we often remember our proudest achievements, deepest embarrassments, or moments of pure delight with startling clarity.
Active Attention: When we're fully present and engaged in a moment, we process it more deeply. This is why mindful experiences - where we're truly paying attention rather than operating on autopilot - tend to stick in our memory more firmly.
These amplifiers explain why similar experiences can leave vastly different impressions in our memory. A dinner with colleagues might blur into countless others, or it might become unforgettable depending on the emotions shared and the attention we bring to it.
Memories are the antidote to time blur
These digital photos are the antidote to the blurring of time. At the end of the day, what we want is a memorable life. A memorable life is like a patchwork quilt, composed of diverse, colorful memories. Sometimes that means wanting more time to create those memories. But more often, what we really want is more memories per unit of time.
Now that we understand how time works in our minds - its relativity, proportions, elasticity, and amplifiers - we can derive a simple equation for creating more memories per unit time:
A memorable life = Novel experiences × Emotional engagement × Active attention
But what does this mean in practice?
(1) Making the boring colorful
There's a misconception that novel experiences must be grand or expensive. Standing before the Colosseum, climbing the Great Wall of China, or riding trains through India like in the film The Darjeeling Limited.
That's great if you have access to those opportunities. But novelty doesn't require a plane ticket or a hefty bank account. The art is in breaking the routine, even in really small ways.
This is one of my favourite photos that I took from last year. The Apple Photos tells me that it’s 22 April 2024 19.01 pm. My sisters Jamie and Lauren laughing boldly untamed in a restaurant as Ma shows them some photos of her travels to China on her phone.
Objectively, it’s not a great photo. The composition’s off. The lighting’s bad. The camera is a 6-year-old iPhone. But I love it.
We were in a new restaurant on holiday together. But I don't think it's the restaurant or the holiday that made that memory vibrant. It's the unique constellation of small elements that made it special. When I look at this imperfectly composed photo, I remember everything: the skepticism we Western-educated kids shared about our mother's somewhat woo-woo story; the fresh, fizzy lime sodas we were drinking; the curries we were sharing; and the laughter - the vivid, contagious laughter.
A moment is memorable not necessarily because of what you've done. Usually, it's who you're with and how you're feeling. Some of my favourite memories are when I manage to make the quotidian colorful.
Take a different route to work
Try a new recipe for a weeknight dinner
Meet friends at a farmers' market instead of your usual café
Read in a park instead of on your couch
Have breakfast for dinner
Each small change creates a distinct memory marker, fighting against the blur of routine.
(2) Document mindfully
Documentation isn't just about creating a record. I think it's really about training yourself to pay attention.
One of the biggest issues in this age of social media is sometimes documenting comes at the expense of truly being in the present moment.
Psychologist Linda Henkel's research shows a fascinating paradox about photography and memory - what she calls the 'photo-taking-impairment effect.' She found that people remembered fewer details about museum objects when they photographed them compared to when they just observed them. It was as if we were outsourcing our memory to our cameras, leading to 'digital amnesia'.
But here's where it gets interesting: when people took time to zoom in and photograph specific details of an object, something different happened. Not only did their memory remain intact, but they remembered both the details they zoomed in on and those they didn't. Why? The act of choosing what to zoom in on requires us to really look, to be deliberate about what we're capturing. It's this intentional attention that makes the difference.
So, the lesson isn't to stop taking photos - it's to be more thoughtful about how we do it. Don't just pull out your camera for the sake of recording. Pull out your camera because you're making a conscious decision to notice, to say "this moment matters and I want to capture it:
Before taking a photo, pause and really look at what you're trying to capture
Instead of taking multiple similar shots, take one thoughtful photo that captures the essence of the moment
When journaling, focus on sensory details and emotions rather than just events
Notice the small details: the quality of light, the ambient sounds, the expressions on people's faces
Put the camera down sometimes and just be present
(3) Delete. Delete. Delete.
Excessive documentation can impair memory formation. When you have dozens of nearly identical photos of the same event, they blur together, diluting rather than strengthening the memory.
That's probably why I remember the few polaroid pictures and disposable camera photos so much more distinctly - there are only a few of those and the limited number of shots in the disposable camera roll forced me to take each one with intentionality.
So, try to replicate this with digital photos too. If you find yourself taking too many photos,
Only allow yourself 2 shots of the same pictures - not 10 different shots
Do a weekly review to clear out your photos
(4) Reflect and look back
Memory isn't just about storing information – it's about creating emotional connections. One of my favourite things is scrolling through old photos with the people I love.
"Oh, I'd forgotten about that day!" "Look how young we were then!" "Remember what happened before this picture?!"
The beauty of photos is that the moment doesn't end there. Retelling it and sharing it adds emotional texture and memory. The story grows richer. The connections deepen.
So:
Set aside time regularly to review your photos and journals
Share stories with friends and family
Create rituals around memory-sharing like an annual photo book
A memorable life
It's now Saturday evening and I've just looked back on and deleted pictures from this week. It's been a memorable week, I think.
I think the secret to remembering your life isn't about having more time – it's about making your time more memorable. It's about approaching each day with the intention to find something worth remembering, even in the most routine moments. It's about paying attention, creating small novelties, and sharing our stories with others.
When you do this consistently, you're not just creating a record of your life – you're creating a life worth recording. And when you eventually look back, whether it's at the end of 2025 or decades later, you won't just see a blur of passing time. You'll see a rich collection of moments that tell the story of a life well-lived and well-remembered.
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Let’s make some memories this week
Ines
Ines, I love the bit about "Active attention!"
I once visited the Plum Village in Hong Kong to deepen my ability to be present and was shocked upon examining their schedule.
I was expecting hours upon hours of meditation to cultivate active attention.
Instead, I found dozens of hours dedicated to what appeared to be generic chores like washing the dishes, prefixed with "mindful."
I ended up spending time with the monks and realized that meditation is a very small part cultivating active attention.
Good reminder in this post that perhaps even washing the dishes can be memorable with the right attitude of presence and care :)
Love the idea of making more colourful memories.
The 2-photo-rule is so good. It's probably why I remember my film photos a lot more than digital, because I'm limited to 36 frames per roll.