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.
If I am angry or frustrated, I am going in the wrong direction.