We perceive the world through a thicket of memory. I see a bird. I remember its genus, its coloration and perhaps one or two other distinguishments. What I cannot recall is how I felt when I first saw this tiny amazement fly into the embrace of a tree. Now I “see through a glass, darkly,” through the dimming filters of time and memory. In other words, I don’t see.
I know a woman who has so little interest in her past that she has forgotten huge swaths of it. She relies primarily on the faculty of spontaneous intuition, which requires neither memory nor story and does not repeat itself.
Let’s imagine that in the blink of an eye our history blinks out, disappears, and suddenly we see everything as everything is, rather than having to peer through the obscurantic veil of memory.
There’s talk about things getting back to normal. Let’s hope that never happens.
We return to ourselves when we come back to the present moment. When we’re unshackled from memory and anticipation.
Men's Work 