Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Looking at water

One of my most favourite activities is looking at water! Maybe you share that fascination and delight?

This first photo is from the Bracklinn Falls that I told you about. There’s a beautiful bridge over these falls and you often see people standing on the bridge, mesmerised by the sight and the sound of the tumbling waters.

I think when you allow yourself to be captured by the sight of water, you slow down and start to notice more…more colours, more shapes, more ever changing flow and movement.

I know a still photograph doesn’t do justice to the experience but look at how many colours there are in that image! So many more than we see “at first glance”.

This second photo is the Mediterranean. Again, see the colours! What a palette! Standing at the edge of a sea or an ocean is just as mesmerising, just as enchanting, just as meditative, as watching water in a waterfall.

This third photo is the River Forth in the town of my birth, Stirling, with the Wallace Monument in the background. Rivers are especially fascinating, not least because, as Herodotus said

No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it’s not the same river and he’s not the same man

Isn’t it kind of mind boggling to think of a river as a “thing”, to give “it” a name, like we name cats, dogs, people we know? Because what exactly is this river we name? The water in it, which is never the same water, minute by minute? The banks, which change over days, weeks and years? When you look at the River Forth from Stirling Castle you see an astonishing trail of winding, looping water – loops which change over time? Is the river named because we can trace its origin in the hills and its destination in the sea?

Whatever we think a river, it’s clear “it” isn’t a fixed “thing” at all…..and that’s what I find fascinating about water. It’s always changing, always “becoming not being”.

You don’t really get a sense of scale from this photo but these rocks are about two metres high…..which is what makes them all the more remarkable. Rain, water, ice and wind have all shaped this rock over many, many years, slicing it up like a loaf of bread!

I took this photo on one of my most favourite walks in the world, up the hill behind Callander in Scotland, to the Bracklinn Falls.

Callander is a pretty, small town, not far from Stirling, the town of my birth. I’ve never known a time when I didn’t want to be a doctor. I first expressed the desire when I was 3. I don’t know where the idea came from. There were no doctors or nurses in my family. I guess it’s truly one of those “calling” things. A “vocation”. But I do remember watching a tv series when I was still very young – “Dr Finlay’s Casebook” – and thinking “that’s the kind of doctor I’d like to be”. That story was set in the fictional town of “Tannochbrae”, which in real life was Callander. When you walk up to the Bracklinn Falls you pass the house which was used as Dr Finlay’s surgery in the tv series.

I read a quotation from the artist, Jesse Murry yesterday…..

…….through the power of imagination to progress beyond the literalness of fact to the poetic dimension of fiction.

I thought of that again as I wrote this piece today….how, through the power of imagination we transcend the literalness of fact to enter “the poetic dimension of fiction”.

What would life be like without imagination? What would it be like without stories?

A sorry, harsher, more plain life I suspect. We need to be enchanted and we need to make sense of our lives….Thank goodness for imagination.

I wonder what stories there might be about these massive rocks at the Bracklinn Falls? I wonder what those shapes might have inspired in a storytellers mind?

I wonder if these rocks will stimulate your imagination……

A few years back I got a Lomo fisheye 35mm film camera. I found some photos I took with it in the January of that year.

I came across this stone circle with a tree growing in the middle of it and used the Lomo. The prints from the Lomo fisheye come back looking as if you are peering through an opening. I rather like it! It focuses your attention and encapsulates the subject in a sort of wholistic circle. The colour tones are very sepia like in this photo which enhances the sense of looking at something quite ancient.

This photo, taken with this kinda quirky camera, enables me to engage with the scene differently. I’m not someone who routinely alters the photos I take, I suppose because I tell myself I want them to be “realistic” but the truth is all perception is a creative process and allowing yourself to play with ways of looking at a scene both broaden and deepen the experience, don’t you think?

Here’s another one…..

Same stone circle, but this time resting the camera on the roof of the car to include the reflection of the tree I saw there. This particular “take” looks as if it is showing both the tree and its root system. In fact, if you wanted to draw a representation of a tree with its branches and its root system in the same image, it would look a lot like this!

I think allowing yourself to play and get creative does many things. It gives you new perspectives. It makes you aware of the creative component of all perception and it re-enchants the world.

What not to like?

Have fun….

The extraordinary

Looking through my photos taken in the month of January in years gone past I came across this one from many years ago.

We have good friends who live in South Africa and on one of our trips to see them they took us to a safari park. I’d never been to one before and I was astonished at how difficult it was to see such large animals as elephants and giraffes. Their camouflage allows them to move through the bush very close to you without you noticing.

Then we turned a corner towards a watering hole and look what we saw!

I’d never seen so many elephants in one place! And neither had our friends who had lots of experience of time spent in the bush and in safari parks.

I know I emphasise the remarkable, the astonishing, the wondrous in the everyday, as captured by the French phrase “l’émerveillement du quotidien”, but sometimes what’s completely extraordinary is exactly what you don’t see every day!

So I thought I’d share this photo of a truly extraordinary, unprecedented, unrepeatable experience. Because these rare events really do enhance the quality of our lives too.

Where you eat

I’ve been browsing January photos in my library and back in the 2004 folder I found this one. This was taken from the breakfast room of a hotel in Antigua.

Of course old photos from trips taken and places visited bring back personal memories and that holiday in Antigua was a good one. Apart from the island, the weather, the scenery etc I especially remember the people. The friendly welcomes and laid back joy in living seemed everywhere. That mixture of “chill” and joyfulness still seems pretty unique to me….a blend of calm and excitement which is really not something you’d expect to find in the same moment.

However, looking at this image again today, my train of thought sets off down the track of the importance of context and setting in our diets.

Our diets? Well, yes, January is a time for resolutions and life decisions for many people. This year there’s a push on vegan diets under the banner of “Veganuary”, and, as usual, there are articles everywhere about “healthy” diets, weight loss diets, “detox” diets and so on.

Over the years I’ve studied many different diets and eating patterns and I reached the point of believing there is no such thing as the one best diet. We are all different. Our bodies handle different food groups differently. We live in different cultures and traditions. And so on. However I’m pretty convinced that a largely plant based diet is a good way to go, and that the less processing, spraying and chemical treatments our food undergoes between its growth and our consumption the better. So I tend towards looking for fresh, reasonably local, ingredients appearing on a seasonal basis.

But that’s not what I was thinking about when I looked at this photo. Instead I was thinking of those other elements and factors which I consider important in “healthy” eating and “good” diets – that is, the circumstances of our “eating events”. Ok, kinda weird phrase that but what I mean is the place where we eat a particular meal, the physical environment of that place, the people sharing that place, or meal, with us.

I’m not sure we give enough attention to all that.

But I reckon when I think of my most memorable meals, what food was on the plate is only a part of that memory. The place where I ate, the circumstances of the meal and who I shared that meal with are all important. They all contribute to making it a memorable meal.

I think that hints at something which is important in “ordinary”, everyday life. Where do you eat breakfast, lunch, dinner? What plates, cutlery etc do you use? How is the table or room decorated? Is there music playing? What do you see when you lift your eyes from the table? Who do you share that time with?

Do you get the idea? It’s about transcending a utilitarian approach to food that over emphasises ingredients or food groups. It’s about relishing, enjoying, delighting in, celebrating the eating experience as a whole.

We don’t have to eat unthinkingly, on automatic pilot, gobbling something down fast before getting on to whatever comes next. We can be more aware, and more deliberate, or conscious.

Some of this comes from the ideas of the “slow” movement which started with “slow cities” and “slow food”. It’s the opposite of fast food culture, the opposite of instant gratification. Time and care given to preparation, presentation and presence.

Try it for yourself. Slow down, take your time and be present. See what’s around you, engage with your fellow diners, appreciate the beauty of your environment (physical, social, cultural and natural)

Then ask yourself what you’d like to change about the way you eat. After all, eating is about more than ingredients.

Contrast and change

I noticed this leaf the other day. There were lots of leaves on the ground and they were all sparkling with tiny ice crystals.

Why did this one catch my eye?

Because it’s different.

Different from all the other bejewelled leaves lying around, and what makes it so different is that difference you can see across the leaf itself…..only the lower half of the leaf is sparkling with ice while the upper half appears largely free of it. I

t’s as if part of the leaf is warmer than the other part. How can that be? It was lying in a shady part of the garden so the sun hadn’t cast its rays more over one part of the leaf than the other. I lifted it up and didn’t notice anything unusual underneath it. I don’t know how come it looks like this.

But this is what we find time and again – polarities and opposites appearing together, like north and south poles of magnets.

When patients came to see me I listened to, and examined, them to make a diagnosis – to find what they had in common with everyone else who had the same disease. But at the same time I was on the lookout for the opposite – the differences that made a difference – in other words, whatever made me see their uniqueness.

We are good at spotting difference. We notice a background noise when it stops. We see a flicker of movement at the edges of our vision. We can pick out a familiar face in a crowd.

I know it’s important to make connections, to find common ground and to resonate with others. It’s good and pleasing to find similarities. They strengthen feelings of belonging.

But differences are incredibly important too. They reveal uniqueness, encourage our curiosity and bring us opportunities to recognise what’s “special”.

Something different

The pattern I use for this blog is to post one of my photos then write a few words of reflection. My intention is to make positive waves, to inspire and delight you, to awaken your sense of wonder and to encourage curiosity and care.

Today, I’m starting with a 30 second video I recorded yesterday across the road at the “Source”. Maybe you read how I moved house just before Christmas and that I live in a small hamlet outside the town of Saint Jean d’Angely now. About a couple of hundred metres up the road from me is an ancient spring. The water is the clearest water I’ve ever seen anywhere. There are the remains of a Roman aqueduct here and the site was developed by the commune a few years back to make it an attractive place to walk, sit or have a picnic.

We’re in the middle of the coldest spell I’ve experienced since moving to France seven years ago. The temperature falls to about minus three degrees centigrade overnight and stays there till about noon.

Yesterday afternoon across at the spring I took this little video of the cold, clear water turning to steam as the sun warmed the surface, while the majority of the water tumbled over the edge of the pool, foaming and splashing and gurgling.

I have a fascination for water so to see its flow and movement at the same time as watching its transition from liquid to gaseous phase just delighted me. If ever there was a better metaphor for the constant transformative processes of Life, I don’t know it.

I hope it delights you too (turn up your volume when you play it)

Humility

One time I visited Tokyo I looked up inside one of the buildings in the city centre and took this photo. I love the shapes of the beams and frames as I looked up at the skyscrapers towering on every side. It’s a marvel of design, engineering and construction.

But some time later, in the garden, I saw this one morning…..

One spider, no architects, no engineers. Just one spider, all by herself.

I am humbled by the natural world. Again and again I marvel at the achievements of simple creatures and of plants. There’s a concept around called “biomimicry” which is taking inspiration and learning from Nature and using that to develop new solutions and technologies for human beings.

It was always same for me with patients. Time and time again people amazed me. Their stories were remarkable and often deeply moving.

Maybe that’s been one of the best lessons in my life – stay curious and stay humble – you’ll be amazed and inspired. I guess it’s a bit like what the Buddhists call “beginner’s mind”.

Traces

There are two obvious traces in this photo. One on the river, and the other in the field.

It looks like someone sailed a boat from the left to the right of this scene, turned around and went back the way they came. It also looks like someone’s driven a tractor or other vehicle in the field, making a pattern which highly resembles the one in the water.

What I can’t see, and didn’t see at the time, is a boat or a tractor. These are traces left behind. Traces of human activity.

We live with traces of human activity all around us, and we make new ones every day just by living. Some disappear very quickly, like breath in the air on a frosty morning, or jet trails in the sky. Some take a little longer, like the wake of a boat on the surface of the water. Others take longer still, like those on the surface of the soil.

In fact, we are said to be living in a new era, the “Anthropocene”, so called because we have reached a time when the accumulation of traces created by human activity is changing the shape and form of the entire planet. From destruction of rainforests to disappearing glaciers and coral reefs, the harms caused by our collective actions over many years.

Some traces, of course, are internal. They are drawn in the form of memories, feelings and knowledge. We draw those with stories, with art and with music.

Some traces in memories disappear quite quickly. But those which are engraved on our hearts can last for generations.

Illuminating

I read an interview with Juliette Binoche in one of the French Sunday papers last weekend. She was talking about her participation in a recent documentary, La Fabrique des Pandémies which explores the link between epidemics and biodiversity loss.

What caught my eye was her reference to the exploration of the differences between France and Thailand in the experience of this pandemic. Despite similar population size, the number of deaths in France way outpaces that of Thailand. Clearly these are complex issues and, as is often said, comparisons are difficult. However there is no denying that comparisons make you think.

They can be illuminating because they highlight the difference between our experiences and those of others. If we never look beyond ourselves we deny ourselves the possibility of discovery which such differences suggest exist.

It’s highly likely that the causes are multi factorial. That’s how things are in health and disease. But she picked out one particular element which is the health of the human biome.

We have only recently begun to understand the significance of the billions of microorganisms which live in and on our bodies. Without them, we couldn’t live, and without a healthy biome we don’t stay healthy. The biome is affected by the diversity of the lived environment and as we destroy that we open the door for “zoonotic” viruses to spread into the human community. It is also affected by the chemicals in our environment, from antibiotics and drugs, to insecticides, herbicides and industrial chemicals.

Is the health of the human biome in France worse than that in Thailand? That seems to be what the researchers are exploring. It’s an interesting line of research.

In the interview, Juliette Binoche calls for us to concentrate more on creating health and healthy environments than we do on trying to find quick, short term “technoscientific” ones. This is where I think she hits the nail on the head.

Is it beyond our imagination, will and desire to create societies where everyone is well housed, well fed and well educated? I don’t think so.

We have to learn to live differently together on this little planet. The pandemic has shown us that we need to create healthier, more resilient communities.