I was haunted by my memory of this small fellow. I saw him on the beach several days ago and blogged about it yesterday. No doubt in some strange way, I saw myself as a child again on the beach... in the sun with the water coming up to my feet. Just enjoying the grit of the sand, the heat of the sun and the sound of the water as it moves up and recedes. It was a kind of look back for me to a time I now only dimly recall.
Then early this morning I was looking at an on-line photographic magazine called "burn" and saw a lengthy photographic essay by Bob Black called Bones of Time. The essay is an extended meditation on memory and the passage of time... and identity. Bob cited a Portuguese poet, Fernando Pessoa, who is quoted as writing:
“What we see is not made of up of what we are seeing but rather from what we are.”
For me this was a deep truth. What we see and experience has less to do with the actual external "truth" of the context and is more so a reflection of something about who we are. What we bring to the experience. As we bring forward shaping past experiences to our immediate present, we need to find some space to remain open to the direct and immediate reality that is in front of us. I think the Buddhists call this space, "nothingness" or perhaps "emptiness." No judgment, no thought, no affect... no self... only openness.
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