When I was very small, I was given a toy kaleidoscope. It was a little tin can with a lens to look through at one end. There little coloured shapes in the can that could be shaken to change the image.
By turning the lens the kaleidoscopic image would transform, delighting my infant eye.
Cultures are partly about geography but mostly about history and the passages of time, shifting sands. Impermanence underlies all this self justification and clinging to any belief that fits. I will put myself into this box. Initially, it’s comfortable but, given time, may become a prison.
And what of this transient self: I, me, mine are labels such as actor, body and possession, mostly fiction. I am the stories I tell myself. Even this is a story. Gone in an instant of the irrecoverable present.
