In memories of childhood all value is in moments that were solitary and unstructured, where you were free to follow the promptings of your most whimsical and private curiosity. Such moments are forever bathed in light and you have hardly begun to recover all that you discovered in them. The other times, when you performed like a trained monkey are largely forgotten, even if they were the source of decades long side-tracks into the vagaries of identity and psychology. Every occasion in which you were spared from being someone was worth a million of those when you were learning "who you were".