An Islander's Diary

When I took my shoes off, I realized I was stuck. It was an island. I was not alone on it. It was surrounded by names and faces. But no waves.

It was an island in time and I gave it a name - “Present”. 

What does one do on such an island? Think about being rescued? But from what? It was a beautiful landscape, and buzzing with people. Yet, no one seemed to notice me. Perhaps because I was barefoot.  Or because they were wearing shoes. No matter, I was of no interest to them.

But they were of interest to me. So, I put my shoes back on, was surprised that I had a camera hanging from my neck, and that my hat was amply rimmed and rather classy. It was time to meet these people, on the island of the present.

… Over the next half-century I explored every corner of the island, its coves and its eroding beaches. It was not a big island, yet seemed to stretch with every step I took.  I introduced myself to many of its inhabitants, but they could not pronounce my name. Delightfully, the lush fruit trees never gave fruit, and there were no sunsets. Rather, a series of sunrises, sometimes glorious, sometimes barely noticed. It was an island where time had no meaning, other that it seemed meaningless to worry about it. I watched lovers love, fighters fight, and many wonder if they would ever go back. There was even one carrot-top woman who ignored the island and planned for the escape. Into the future. Where she believed all the promises were. And she turned to stone, because she did not look back.

Eventually the island became a site of pilgrimage into the core of the present where to receive the blessings from the moment. And to share them back without pretension, pretention or remorse. I did not parse the time I had to freeze time itself; and I did not ask why an island had beaches but no waves from the past. While at first I thought to be stuck, I experienced a transformation into a feeling of joy. Then to the joy of having a feeling of joy. And eventually to the accepting that this was not an island to be rescued from, but to be invited to discover. The island of the present was the entire bubble within which what was done was already gone, and what could be done remained unknown.

… And all remained unpredictable, since there was no passing time. I learned that predictability needs both the waves from the past and the promises of the future. Not on this island!

And, while watching the endless sunrises, I noticed that I had not used my camera for half a century. And it occurred to me that freezing a moment in time on an ancient roll of film had no meaning when time itself was already frozen!

So I got up, walked to the beach, and threw my camera as far as I could. Then wondered: if there are no waves and no water, where did my camera go?

September 15, 2013

© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2013