Seeing Is Forgetting the Name of the Thing One Sees

The Value of Unlearning

Seeing a sunset

I cannot remember where I heard this saying, but it touched a chord inside me about the value of unlearning what I think I know so I can notice the present. Seeing is forgetting the name of the thing one sees.

Looking online, I found this saying has been attributed variously to Claude Monet, Robert Irwin, and Paul Valery. Monet and Irwin were artists. Valery was a poet and philosopher. Artists and philosophers have much to teach me about seeing - and about unlearning my preconceived notions. When I set aside my “already-knowing” mind, I can attend to what is before me with curiosity.

Do you know what I mean? Very often it seems we are so sure of already knowing something that we do not even look closely. When we think we already know, we stop seeing. We miss the present. I find that I do not notice and am not curious about that which I think I already know. But if we practice unlearning, we get a chance to see with fresh eyes.

Seeing is forgetting the name of the thing one sees. Labels distract us.

I have learned this about the world around me. If I see a robin and my mind simply says, "robin," then I stop before taking a moment to notice the white eye rings or yellow beak. I miss the details. If I see an oak tree and my mind says, "oak," it is as if that is all there is to it. I miss the spaces between the tree limbs and acorns dangling there. But if I stop and look, I see the shape of leaves and bark on the tree.

Seeing is forgetting the name of the thing one sees. Labels distract us.

I have learned this about people. When I stop assuming I already know a person, I get a chance to see them in a fresh way. It means challenging the assumptions I have about how people look, or how they dress, or what they say, so that I can notice beneath the surface. When I do this, I am amazed how often I experience surprise. Almost like I am alive in a different way.

Seeing is forgetting the name of the thing one sees. Labels distract us.

I have learned this about myself. I am a product of my genes and experiences and history, but I am not finished. I am not done. I can keep pushing at new edges. If I unlearn some “truths" about myself in order to gain new perspective, what can I do with fresh insight? After all, I am a human being, not a human has-been. I can keep be-ing into a yet unwritten future.

Seeing is forgetting the name of the thing one sees.

As a pastor, I have also learned this about the Bible. You would think after decades as a pastor, I would know what I need to know about the Bible. However, I am finding that if I unlearn what I thought I already knew, I have a new appreciation of the stories for today. That has been happening A LOT for me in 2025.

I often comprehend passages in a very different key this year, describing life from the underside of history. I hear the experiences of those who were under the thumb of empire in various forms - Egyptian, Assyrian, Babylonian. Roman - while still trying to live with compassion and community. I keep hearing these passages now in a time of ICE raids against immigrants and assaults against science and violence against the civil fabric of democracy, and feel their subversive solidarity.

Seeing is forgetting the name of the thing one sees. Unlearning is a way of seeing what is, right now, in a different light. When I saw the sunset pictured at the beginning of this post, I did not just say “sunset” and look away. I kept looking, and I kept seeing, and I kept paying attention. That is what I am doing in 2025 with myself, my world, my faith, and the people I meet.

What are you unlearning? How are you learning to see afresh? In what ways are artists or philosophers helping reframe the world for you?