Costa de Caparica,
P o r t u g a l In an especially joyful and light mood, I wandered
down to the beach tonight with a dance in my
every step. I felt like I could sing to every passerby,
like a Disney princess movie, and it would all just
be normal. The sun was setting magnificently and
the surfers were glistening in it’s remaining rays.
The water had been drug back out and the beach
stretched for miles.
Of course, the most beautiful and awe-inspiring
moments always present themselves when the
devices with which to capture them are all left
behind. My phone, camera, even my journal were
all in my room. It was just me and the world and
this would just have to remain encapsulated in my
ever fragile mind.
I got to thinking then about just how fragile the
mind is. The one fluctuating and least dependent
thing that holds all of these beautiful untouched
moments. A death, an accident, a brain injury,
memory loss, old age ... it can all just disappear.
So why wouldn’t we share them all? Get them on
paper. Write them down. Paint them. Sing them.
Preserve them. And then I thought about why
we do.
W R I T I N G
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P H O T O S
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T H O M A S
Gone.
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I think that what most people fear more than
anything, more than death, is being obsolete
after their minds or bodies are gone. They want
or need others to know what they saw, what they
did, what they remember and to be witness to
their lives. Because it makes it more real in a way.
Although not really, but in our human smallness,
it gives us something more permanent, something
that will live on after us, if only in one other
person’s memory. It’s a testimony that we have
lived. It’s why we create, build and share. Why
we marry, procreate, and expand. It’s our only
shot at something infinite; the only record of our
existence, proof that we were here.
We want to touch this world and leave a mark - one
that remains long after we do. It’s why some people
spend their whole lives protecting and building
this earth so that it can serve future generations.
It’s even why we carve our names as lovers in trees,
or bury time capsules. Because those signs- both
of them- might be seen long after we are. And if
we really boil it all down, I think even the greatest
acts of selflessness in this realm, can be drawn
back to this fear of human smallness. Of being
forgotten. Being obsolete. Not impacting anyone
or anything. And I think that’s okay. It doesn’t
mean we are selfish. It keeps us acting, creating,
helping, inspiring; it’s what separates us from any
other species. We are the only ones aware of our
mortality and with that, we desperately try to
attribute part of that into some form of immortality.
I recognize that there will always be those who
deem this selfish or hopeless, but personally, I
think it’s beautiful.