Always go to the beach with a small container. In it you will put the many shark teeth you find. You won’t find them at first. After your first trip to the beach, you may return home with the container still empty. Do not be frustrated. Be peaceful. Like the container, empty yourself, so that you are ready to be filled at such a time as is found the thing that fills you.
The container should be small enough to fit in your pocket. It should be easy to open and to reseal. Choose a container made from a material that will be resistant to salt water. Metal will rust, paper will dissolve. Plastic is recommended. Any material will work in a pinch. The point of hunting shark teeth is to find them, not necessarily to keep them. You can even drop them into your pocket, though you will likely lose the smallest ones. Shark teeth come in sizes no bigger than a speck, and can slip through the seam, fall from your person onto the very beach from which a moment before you took them. They will sit there until the next tide. They will be buried again in the sand and the shells. At a point in the far future they will resurface, awaiting a keen and practiced eye. They will hold within themselves the hope of an appropriate container.
Choose a day when the sun is high. This will make your shadow short. Otherwise, elongated before you, the shadow will obscure the beach. Within the darkness, shark teeth will be much more difficult to locate. As you strain your mind to find them, your mind too will be pulled into the darkness. You cannot fight the shadow without being swallowed by it. When your shadow is present, let it fall behind you. Face the sun.
Locate the shell line on the beach. This is the area in which you are most likely to find shark teeth. The shells are revealed in narrow bands as the tide recedes. Sometimes, in the lapping water, you can see shark teeth tumbling with the current. Here, the shell line is renewed with each wave, fresh layers revealed and the old washed away. To begin, it is easier to locate a shell line up the beach, away from the water. Sitting still, abandoned there by the tide, the shark teeth will be easier to find. What was forgotten by the waves waits to be remembered by the seeker.
Do not look for shark teeth. By seeking the object you will find nothing. The shape of the shark tooth is lost amidst the thousands of similar shapes on the beach. It seems every shard of broken shell is triangular, posing as what you seek. But if you look beyond the object, to the traits that make it identifiable as the object, you realize the vast difference between broken shells and shark teeth.
A shark tooth is the shiniest object on the beach. Its enamel glints in sunlight. This will not be easily noticeable, the distinction between tooth and shell subtle. Train your eye to discern differences in brightness. You are looking for a small shiny spot against the sand, amidst the mosaic of the shell line. With patience and practice, the shiny spots will become apparent. Your eyes will learn to pick them out subconsciously. On the sand, a glimmering constellation. A reflection of the night sky.
Shark teeth are black. Once you have spotted a shiny object, look for its color. If it is not black, it is not what you are seeking. This process, too, should be internalized. Shininess and blackness should be observed almost simultaneously. The two separate aspects of the tooth, when parsed and reconstructed by the mind, will allow you to locate shark teeth. The whole is broken into its components and reassembled, and this reassembly is called finding.
From different kinds of sharks come different shapes of teeth. All teeth are black and shiny, but they are not identical. The tiger shark’s is short and hooked. The sand tiger’s is long and needlelike. Despite their variety, the same process is used to locate each type of tooth. Shape is irrelevant. Sometimes there are objects on the beach that mimic the shine and color of shark teeth, usually stones or certain shells. In these cases familiarity with shape can aid in your search. This knowledge will develop naturally, so you should not concentrate on it. Let the idea of shape come over you, as does the falling of night.
Go to the far end of the beach. This should be an unpopulated area, where the sound of the ocean is greater than the chatter of people. Let the sound fill your ears. Breathe in the scent of the ocean so your lungs too are filled. Empty yourself and let the beach flow into your mind. When you begin, you must concentrate on shininess and blackness. You must force your eyes to be aware of the beach, and you must force your mind to be aware of your eyes. This is how the novice searches, always thinking about the goal.
Walk the beach, consciously searching, for about an hour. Place the teeth you find inside your container. Do not worry if you fail to find any. Do not be frustrated if you are fooled into picking up an object that is not a tooth. Fling false finds into the water. Do so with joy. Let falsity sink away.
The first shark tooth you find will bring excitement. Channel this energy into finding more. It is important to keep looking after the first find. This is true overall and for each time you visit the beach. Your eyes, once they have successfully picked out a shark tooth, are then primed to find more. Your mind holds the memory of the first find, and, if you act quickly, that memory will allow you to search more efficiently. It is not uncommon to find several shark teeth in rapid succession, once the eyes have become familiar with the image of what they seek. It is a process of visual memorization, similar to the ability to recognize a face in a crowd.
Continue to force yourself to look carefully until you begin finding shark teeth without thinking at all. At this point, the learning process is complete. The search has been fully internalized. You will look for shark teeth without looking. You will find them without searching. Conscious effort is what makes one a novice. When the process comes to you instead of you to the process, this is what is called mastery.
Look closely at the shark teeth you have found. Spread them out on the table before you. Sift through them. Arrange them by size, by shape. Arrange them randomly. Place them in rows. Scatter them. Pick a single tooth, one that appeals to you. Note its utility. Note its beauty. Its form gives rise to both attributes. In your mind, reassemble the tooth out of these two attributes, utility and beauty. This is when you will truly see it. This is when a shark tooth is found.
You are now here at the beach with me. You have learned the lessons and practiced the art, and your own container, like mine, overflows with shark teeth. The search has become a formality. It is a habit. It is an excuse. The titles of student and master have been reshaped as if by the tide. They cannot be separated. Everyone is student and master. The two titles are reassembled into the whole person, and this reassembly is called finding.
We walk down the shell line, talking of subjects far from the ocean, beyond the flight of crying gulls. We stop, on occasion, to pick from the sand a shark tooth that one of us has spotted.