On Memory and Emotion

Everything around us is in a constant state of flux: people growing older, responsibilities getting greater, world getting dirtier, entropy (in most circumstances) increasing. Some things hardly change at all though: our memories. Yes, they grow fainter and we start to see them through increasingly rose-tinted glasses and so on, but in essence they remain constant and indeed by definition they must. And it is the persistence of these memories, and the way, over time, in which they begin to conflict with so much of the reality around us, that seems to cause so many of our emotions; particularly negative ones. Memories of old friends whom I haven't seen for years; memories of the one you once loved, but can no longer bear the sight of; memories of that child who I was so close to, but has now grown into a sulky and uncaring teenager. Would it not be wonderful if we had editorial powers over our memories: so that we could make a few changes here and there, obscure the unpleasant bits, enhance the pleasing aspects, perhaps erase a few episodes entirely and write in a few new ones in the bargain? As the Buddha taught us, attachment to people and things is the root cause of all our sorrows. But if we knew that we could alter our memories whenever we wished, would attachment still have any meaning? Would we ever fear the loss of something or someone we loved dearly, if we could wipe it out merely by flipping a few synapses in our brain? Would there be anything worth cherishing, without memory?