It was 1991, and I will never, ever, forget the look on the face of my little niece Vesta at the very instant when she first saw the big vast Atlantic Ocean. It was a look of absolute wonder. She was almost three years old, and we were starting our return trip from Maine from the wedding of my father to my wonderful new stepmother, Alice. On this return voyage in my sister Carol’s van there were Carol, her daughters Mara (13 years old) and Vesta, and me. We took the scenic route home, starting with the nearby coast of Maine.
Vesta was at that time what some may call a “strong-willed” child. (A cynical person might instead say, a “brat,” but that would be unacceptably cynical.) I remember that morning just before we set out on our voyage home. It took Carol and Mara teaming together to wrestle down the rebellious, ferociously fighting little Vesta just to comb her hair. She was feisty little thing! Mara was the oldest sibling and was always a terrific second mother to her siblings: to Justin, two years younger (and not with us on this trip), and to Vesta, ten years younger. Mara contributed immeasurably to their nurturing and development.
Vesta’s first ocean sighting was at the Pemaquid Point lighthouse in coastal Maine. This was off the main highways, but I recommended we go there because of my memories of this area over 20 years earlier on my inaugural hitchhiking trip into New England immediately after high school in June 1968. I had good memories of the little nearby fishing village of New Harbor, Maine, so I wanted to share the views with them.
Pemaquid Point has a little museum and beach as well as the lighthouse out on the point. The grand open ocean view was off the point immediately beyond the lighthouse.
I was carrying little Vesta against my chest, and she was looking back over my left shoulder at the way we had just come, not seeing the ocean ahead. Perhaps she was bored; I don’t know. We walked toward the point. The big rocks down to the side of and just below the lighthouse were wet from waves, but I had good footwear and good footing (i.e., good balance and adhesion) as I walked down along the rocks to the water’s edge. (Carol may have been a bit nervous as I carried her youngest over these rocks, but she never mentioned it.)
The two of us were down to where the waves were hitting my feet, almost in front of and under the lighthouse, yet Vesta had still not turned to see the ocean. It was a view that took my own breath away, as it had been a long time since I’d seen it. The majestic ocean.
Then a big wave crashed at my feet and made enough noise that it couldn’t be ignored, and at that moment Vesta turned her head to look for the first time at that vast expanse of water. What was unforgettable was how perfectly she was taken by surprise.
I was watching her closely as she turned her head, her face just inches from mine, and I saw the exact instant when she registered (the equivalent perception, but not in words) that this was an extraordinarily new and startlingly different experience of aspects of reality. Her eyes were extremely wide, but not in fear. It was more like the immediate switching on of total focus and rapt attention outward toward the external world, and it seemed to me that her eyes showed that huge and sudden expansion of consciousness we all require when processing such marvelously new unknown immensities of experience.
She saw the huge ocean ahead, quickly glanced just a bit to the left and quickly just a bit to the right and then straight on out to that incredible horizon without limit. I was struck by her very serious look of complete wonderment and fearless awe. Waves crashed, seagulls circled, breezes shifted. It was a priceless moment.
I’ve studied a bit of psychology through the years, especially child psych, and this was a moment I’ll never forget. It also resonates with many of my other subjects of study, most especially philosophy and epistemology. I cannot assume that Vesta even remembers this episode in her adult memory, but I can speculate that it was nevertheless an important early milestone in her developing epistemological “vision”, i.e., her experience of “seeing,” of integrating, and of knowing that the world is much more extraordinarily complex and wonderful than ever previously imagined. Just as in scientific discovery, the young individual mind discovers New Worlds every day.
I cannot help but think here of the classic opening words of Aristotle’s Metaphysics:
“All men [aka, all human beings] by nature desire to know. As an indication of this, consider the delight we take in our senses, especially the sense of sight.” (Aristotle, The Metaphysics)
(And so it goes, in Aristotle’s historical-developmental model of epistemology, on up from simple perceiving to logically identifying to inductively integrating all of this info into infinitely higher permutations of human Reason and its astonishing knowing potential.)
Vesta saw the ocean, dramatically, for the first time. What a wonderful milestone on the way to the discovery of the world! As for myself, as a witness to this episode of basic individual discovery, I will never forget it.
-Zenwind.
