Memory as Identity I recall hearing an account of a woman who was caring for her sick husband. He had severe dementia and had lost almost all his memory. She said it was like her husband had died, was already gone, but his body was still physically alive, aimlessly wandering around their house. For her it was like living with a stranger who resembled her husband but was not him in any meaningful sense. She said she felt unable to even begin to grieve for her loss. It was like

Doubtless, you have experienced sleepless nights. Nights of turning a thought over and over in your head – a troubling thought that wouldn’t leave you alone. Maybe it was about a stressful situation at work or a relationship that had hit a rough patch. Possibly, you have been kept awake into the early hours of the morning, staring into the blackness, just wondering where your life is heading. There is a common cliché in the world of self-help: ‘energy flows where attention go