Anything that you remember decades after the fact is noteworthy ipso facto. Even if you attached no particular importance to the event at the time, your memory somehow decides subsequently that it was important.
To my own surprise, for example, I regularly remember a moment that occurred about fifteen years ago. Somehow I had allowed myself to be hired out of a Masters program at the London School of Economics to one of the big American investment banks in London. To people who know me, this was funny then and remains funny now.
One reason I joined this bank may have been (who knows what I was thinking) that they claimed to have a good training program in New York. So they flew a bunch of us to New York for a few months.
All of this (save the night-time recreational activities in New York) was and remains entirely forgettable. I could not tell you a single thing I learned in that training program.
Except one thing that my memory later filtered out:
Once, one of the bank’s honchos came to address us, the trainees. He wanted to impart some wisdom to us about success at the bank and, presumably, in life.
The single biggest factor, he said, is an
ability to sustain disappointment.