Implicit Memory in Action
In my last blog, I wrote about the Al-Anon phrase If I’m hysterical, it’s historical and how it helped me remain grounded in the awareness of implicit memory. This week, I continue that reflection with a story of how implicit memory once arrived and nearly hijacked my mind at a silent retreat—and what awareness taught me in that moment.
If I’m hysterical, it’s historical…that phrase—and what I learned about implicit memory in my own therapy—changed how I understand myself, and how I show up for others. Implicit memories will often show up – in profound and ordinary ways. Developing the ability to discern the difference between what is implicit and what is not is an incredibly helpful life tool.
When I was working intensively with my therapist, as I navigated the complexities of Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID), learning about implicit memory was a true game changer. What I came to understand was that the awful, intrusive, frightening, and terrorizing things I was feeling—and experiencing through all of my senses—were not signs that I was “losing my mind.” They were implicit memories: residues of my childhood trauma, surfacing without the awareness that they were memories of the past. Unlike explicit memory, which you know is coming from the past, implicit memory feels immediate and real, as though it is happening right now.
This realization brought me something I hadn’t felt before: a deep sense of safety and grounding in the present. Knowing that these experiences were echoes of the past allowed me to separate then from now—and to begin exploring, with courage and clarity, what I needed to know and feel in order to heal. I write more about this journey in my forthcoming memoir, A Brilliant Adaptation: How Dissociative Identity Disorder & the Therapeutic Bond Saved Me, which tells the story of my recovery from DID within the IPNB framework.
One of the most powerful lessons I ever had about implicit memory came during a week-long retreat in Mindfulness-Based Stress Reduction (MBSR) with Jon Kabat-Zinn. At the retreat we alternated sitting and walking meditations, never knowing how long they would be. In my restless and wandering mind I tried to break the “time code,” hoping to predict the longer walking meditation so I could take a particular walk I had mapped through the forest. One day, I guessed wrong.
When I returned, everyone was already back in the meditation hall. As I walked toward the building, I suddenly felt it: I’m in trouble! That old, familiar feeling shook me—because as a child, being “in trouble” was a constant reality. But in the same instant, awareness came: Sally, that’s implicit. I smiled to myself. Of course I wasn’t in trouble. I was an adult on retreat, and no one—certainly not Jon Kabat-Zinn—was going to upset, much less hurt me.
Then another wave hit: anger. Why was I angry? Awareness showed up again: No one listens to you. Another remnant of childhood. And again, I laughed. Of course no one was listening—it was a silent retreat!
In that moment, I watched my past try to hijack my present. But awareness turned the hijack into a ripple that lasted only seconds. The fear of being in trouble, the anger of not being heard—they arose and faded without sweeping me away. What once would have consumed me was now simply noticed, named, and released.
This is where the window of tolerance also comes into play. By recognizing implicit memory for what it is, I was able to stay within my window. I could sit with the old feelings—shame, fear, anger—without being overwhelmed. That widening of tolerance is the fruit of years of work. It allows me to meet the present moment with clarity, compassion, and resilience. Without getting stuck in rigidity or bursting into chaos.
This is how Interpersonal Neurobiology informs, but does not prescribe, therapy. IPNB gives us a framework for making sense of experience. It reminds us that what feels confusing, overwhelming, or out of proportion often has roots in the past. With awareness, we can separate then from now, widen our window of tolerance for uncomfortable feelings and move toward integration. That is as true for me in my own life as it is in the lives of the clients I now walk alongside.
In my next blog, I’m going to share my experience with a mindful awareness practice (MAP) developed by Dan Siegel: the Wheel of Awareness. This practice was, once again, a game changer for me. I think of it as a kind of crash course in IPNB—an elegant, experiential way of promoting integration. It weaves together implicit memory, the window of tolerance, and the making sense process into a powerful tool for healing and growth.
Thank you for reading. This space is where I weave together what I’ve learned through IPNB—first as a patient, then as a student, and now as a practitioner. It is a place where lived experience and clinical work meet, shaped by the insights of Interpersonal Neurobiology and the making sense process. I hope you’ll walk with me as the journey unfolds.
