Old photographs are powerful portals into a core space in our being’s energy. Meaningful memories and sensations filed in cerebral cabinets. Captured split-seconds of our life, consciously suppressed, or simply forgotten about – dormant unless somehow triggered.
Recently discovering a photo taken in 1972 of my younger brothers in the backyard of the home we all grew-up in, did just that. It is a shot taken by me, of my brothers rushing past me, one evening at dusk. Both were eager to escape my lens eye. My youngest brother rushes quickly by leaning toward my camera, yet he is still recognizable in his blur – I can still see him…in his youth of 15. In the middle of a growth spurt he is long and lean, sporting wild shaggy hair. Dressed in his standard – a yellow collarless polo t-shirt, brown cords and a wide mischievous grin. Rushing right behind him is my other younger brother – the older of the two. He’s in his typical work-ready clothes…clean-cut at 16, worn jeans, work boots and a white t-shirt with a thin sweatshirt, which he has pulled up to cover his face…much like a celebrity sick of the paparazzi, would.
What instantly comes to my heart with this snap-shot is a sense regret. A melancholy regret, that back then, I was incapable of being more in the moment with my brothers. I was incapable of truly seeing them, of appreciating them and embracing the fun and joy of their young energy. To be present in understanding that those moments were going to pass and never be re-experienced. I wish I had had much more fun, more laughter, more celebration with them. That I had built a closer and stronger relationship of friendship and life partnership with them…. I wish.
… yet, I too was just an unaware child-at-heart at 18… a truly young 18 – just ending high school. Totally lost about my life’s direction and my decisions that lay ahead.
I love my brothers. If only we could go back simply to repair or to re-live the part when we were too distracted to do it better the first time. Oh, to go back for “seconds”, for a second helping of love– a second chance to be in the experience. To understand that just as with a meal, if you take your time, be in the moment with each mouthful and chew slowly, chew longer… linger…let the juices melt into one’s palate…savoring the flavor….you create space that invites you to experience the potential for joy in every moment.
Slipping on the Moon 