Six months into this world, her eyes widen and fix on the sight of heavy rain falling in front of her. What is this? No aversion. No fear. No wanting. No romanticising. Just silent, open-eyed wonder and curiosity. It lasts for many minutes – until a passing, very jazzy looking umbrella distracts her gaze. What is that? Can you remember this way of seeing? Can I?
Over the years I have spent many hours in a silent meditation hall to maybe find this again. Sometimes it has almost been there. Open again to the amazement of this world. Not the human techno world, but Gaia – the world of earth, air, sunshine, rain – of the fleshy, swirling, squirming, thrusting, pouring nature of it all impressing on my body and senses.
Sometimes, I find myself looking at the eyes of another – at the face of another with its unique marks, wrinkles, shadows, colours, expressions. Sometimes I look in the mirror at my own. The eyes – the face – seem full of the unknown. Can the aging I am experiencing bring back my wonder and curiosity?
I feel full of longing to share my love of Gaia with this little being – and, especially, to experience over and over again her wonder and curiosity at it all.
Author: MaryAb
Born in upstate New York. Moved to the UK in 1971. At home in Devon.
