"A Natural Catechism" - A poem and some thoughts on the (maybe) myth of the golden age of raw experience

A Natural Catechism

Question:

Why does the ocean roar without ceasing? 

Why are its waves ever reaching

And pulling at the frayed hem of the land?

Answer:

Because the land was drawn up out of the sea,

Taken like a rib from the side of the sea,

And the sea has not forgotten, 

And the sea can never forget.

Camping on the west coast with no internet access: 5 stars, highly recommend. (But also, I need to get back in the habit of keeping maps in the car. I can feel my dad shaking his head at me...) It's also not bad if your phone dies and you can't charge it for a while. You're forced to look and listen and experience it raw. Remember when we used to do that more? When camcorders and cameras were less convenient to carry so we took fewer pictures and lived in the experience rather than trying to document it? 

Or that's how we like to remember it, anyway. The Golden Age of Raw Experience before the Internet and smart phones ruined it all - ruined us all. When we were at the coast this week, on a popular beach where everyone is taking selfies and photos of every pebble on the shoreline or has phones raised to take pictures of every haystack rock weathering the elements, I had a moment of reflection. I think my opinion on this whole documenting-every-experience thing shifted a bit. I still don't like the way it looks to see a crowd of people staring at something through their screen, but I think the need we feel to take pictures of everything results from two main motivations. One is self-focused, merely to post it and forget it - just letting people know that you were there or did that thing and not experiencing it beyond that. The Influencer motivation. Primarily curating an online collection to build your online presence.

But for others, taking a picture is outward-focused. It is a silent acknowledgement that you are in the presence of something beautiful, something moving and memorable, maybe even sublime. The picture is taken because something is there the photographer doesn't want to forget. He wants to preserve the beauty he is seeing for as long as he can. He wants to be able to remember it.

That's not a bad thing. 

I am still working through these thoughts but here is where I have landed so far: if the person behind the phone snaps the pic, then pockets the device and goes out and enjoys what she has just photographed, the picture won't be a sterile record of an event or an inflated moment for the viewer's pleasure and not her own. It will expand and branch and maybe even become two things joined: one, a communal experience she enjoys alongside appreciative strangers (some of whom were having their wedding there that day; beached logs as seating, the bride's veil floating in the wind and the mist, the ocean speaking a blessing - judging from the smiles shared with strangers, we all felt lucky to be there, though we all also wandered off to give the couple and their party privacy), and second, a private memory, a portal, a time machine back to one lovely, misty grey day on a cold, stony beach with all the people she loves best in the world.