The Snow Globe of Memory

Living for the Moment or the Showcase?

By Moa Yombi

In a recent episode of the podcast "ReThinking," Adam Grant engages in a fascinating conversation with comedian Mae Martin. The episode delves into the intriguing metaphor of memories as snow globes—objects we take out not just to cherish privately, but to display to others. This analogy sparked a series of reflections for me about our relationship with memory and experience in the digital age. It raises a profound question: Have we forgotten how to be present in the moment, prioritizing the display of our experiences over the experiences themselves?

The concept of the snow globe is poignant. Snow globes, with their encapsulated scenes and whimsical snowflakes, are perfect miniatures of idealized moments. We collect them, admire them, and, significantly, we show them off. They are objects of nostalgia and pride, not just for personal reflection but for communal sharing. Similarly, our memories have increasingly taken on this dual role. We capture them, not solely for the joy they bring us, but for the validation they might receive from others.

Consider a concert. Once, attending a live performance was an immersive experience. You were there, lost in the music, the crowd's energy, the ephemeral magic of the event. Today, the view from the audience is often through the lens of a smartphone. People film the performance, not just to remember it, but to share it on social media. The implication is clear: If it’s not documented, it’s as if it didn’t happen. The memory isn’t complete until it’s validated by likes, comments, and shares.

This shift is not confined to concerts. Vacation destinations are now selected for their Instagrammability rather than personal interest or enjoyment. The picturesque beaches, the dramatic landscapes, and the vibrant cityscapes are sought after not for the personal joy they provide, but for the social currency they offer. The experience becomes secondary to the photograph that can be posted and admired.

Why have our snow globes—the curated memories we choose to display—become so crucial? One reason is the profound change in how we perceive value and validation. Social media platforms have created an environment where our lives are constantly on display. The digital age has blurred the lines between private and public, personal and performative. In this space, the act of sharing has become a way to assert our identity, to say, "This is who I am, these are my experiences." The approval of our peers becomes a measure of our worth.

But there’s a deeper, more introspective question at play: Why can’t we keep our snow globes to ourselves? The answer lies in our inherent need for connection and affirmation. Humans are social creatures. Sharing our experiences is a way to connect, to find common ground, to feel seen and understood. In a world where our sense of community is increasingly digital, the act of sharing becomes a way to forge and maintain those connections.

However, this constant need to showcase can come at a cost. When we prioritize the display of our experiences over the experiences themselves, we risk losing touch with the present moment. We become spectators in our own lives, more concerned with capturing the perfect shot than with living the perfect moment. The joy of being fully present, of immersing ourselves in an experience without the distraction of documentation, is diminished.

The challenge, then, is to find a balance. To learn to be present in the moment while still enjoying the act of sharing. It’s about recognizing that some snow globes are meant to be private, treasured for the personal joy they bring. Others can be shared, but with the understanding that their value lies not in the approval they garner, but in the connections they foster.

In the end, our memories are ours to keep and cherish. The snow globe of memory should be a source of joy and reflection, not a tool for validation. Let’s take the time to live in the moment, to appreciate the beauty of an experience as it happens, and to remember that the most meaningful snow globes are those we keep to ourselves.