What are your best sensory memories? What about it is the part that makes the memory special? Was it the company, that time of your life, or other sensations tied to the tastes, smells, or textures?

One of my favorite treats is Jelly Belly jelly beans, at least, the good flavors. I understand this “good” is different for everyone. For me, it’s pear and peach flavor, along with a few others. When I first bite into a pear Jelly Belly, I am taken to Amish Country in Lancaster County, PA.

I was there with my family as a teen. In an indoor market, one of the stalls allowed you to buy Jelly Belly jelly beans by the pound AND by the flavor. Which means you could pay the exorbitant price of Jelly Bellies, but not end up with any of the gross ones (I’m looking at you, popcorn, root beer, and black licorice). I left with a whole bag of the best ones –  fruity ones, some tart ones. Just sweet, chewy goodness. And the weight of the bag shifting in my lap in the car as we drove away.

There are other food memories: My first taste of local, ripe, in-season mango on our only trip to Tobago that fell in June. The warm, sweet yellow meat dripping juice down my chin, and the amazing flavor. Fresh mango still brings back that memory even when it lacks the height of that experience.

Sometimes, you don’t see it coming – you sit down with a plate, and with the first bite, the flavor transports you somewhere else:  a poolside party at a family reunion years past, a trip to Europe, a long-past road trip.

I am not a foodie. I am an experience junkie. I love getting lost in wonderful sensory goodness – water, warm air, pleasant and evocative aromas, the right music. When you live in the Northeast and survive her winters, you need to have some form of escape. Getting lost in sensory experiences, and then being able lose yourself again when you remember those experiences, is just the ticket.

So what is it for you? The smell of school supplies? Some type of food you can get only in certain places, or food a special someone makes? Is it a type of music, or a particular song? The sensation of the back of your legs sticking to the leather interior of a car, or the smell of a tool box?

Have you found ways to re-frame or re-associate things you have associated with unpleasant memories? Have you ever listened to a song that made you sad the same way, as a kid, you would write your name again and again until it didn’t even feel like a word anymore, till the meaning was gone? Or eat a type of food you associated with a negative experience with someone you love now, someone you’re happy with? Do you avoid the bad sensory memories altogether when you can?

What about the sensory memories you have that the next generation will probably never understand? I remember the feeling of the phone cord twisted around my fingers, the sound and feel of dialing a rotary phone, having phone numbers committed to memory, and picturing the numbers in relation to their place on the rotary dial. I recall the sound of the cord rubbing against the wooden trim of the doorway to the kitchen as I pulled it. Then the cord would go slack as it untangled and gave me a little more  space, privacy from anyone who might hear my side of the conversation. The feeling you had coming home before having an answering machine (and our family were late adopters) and wondering if your phone had been ringing into an empty house while you were gone, someone on the other end hoping you would pick up. What about the feel of winding a cassette whose tape had unraveled, your finger in one of the holes, untangling the delicate tape and wondering if it would play properly when you were finished?

I love sensory memories because I’m a texture person, a smell and sound and visual person. But also, I love them because they are so often mysterious. Your brain perks up and tells you it knows something, but it can’t always tell you what, or why. You have to stay open and try to draw out the details. Or maybe it’s an easy one and you know exactly where it’s from. Either way, it’s a trip I enjoy taking, and in this crazy world we live in, you never know when something will waft by, sending your neurons down memory lane.