Memories of a Slave

(Girl playing, Tibet, 2009) Memories of a Slave The world, at least my world, is nothing if not predictable. There are moments however when the Sun breaks through and a real unexpected, enlightening, light shines. Usually this is in dreams when I begin to float or fly, but sometimes it’s just as simple as laughing at the absurd twist of something someone says. The effect though is joy, a moment of euphoria when something is released, someone liberated. I wonder about this what its evolutionary purpose is (rewarding innovation and novelty perhaps?), but it strikes me as true kindling a memory that runs deeper than my own life, or place in evolution, that this is just the joy of someone, who has been a slave from beginningless time, when they get a momentary glimpse beyond the ties that bind. (12/13/23)