
I love a misty morning like this. I love how the mist blurs and obscures the landscape. Soon after getting home from taking this photo I read this, in Iain McGilchrist’s “The Matter with Things”
The atom has the curious property that while from a distance it has a blurry self-consistency, it does not become clearer, but more indistinct, as you zoom in, so that there is less and less to see, until it evades your grasp entirely.
The physicist, Carlo Rovelli, writes beautifully about this subject –
A handful of elementary particles, which vibrate and fluctuate constantly between existence and non-existence and swarm in space even when it seems that there is nothing there, combine together to infinity like the letters of a cosmic alphabet to tell the immense history of galaxies, of the innumerable stars, of sunlight, of mountains, woods and fields of grain, of the smiling faces of the young at parties, and of the night sky studded with stars.
Can you imagine? Shift your perspective from a world filled with “solid” unchanging objects, to one of “elementary particles, which vibrate and fluctuate constantly between existence and non-existence” and how does the world look? As he writes elsewhere, the universe isn’t made of solid objects but of relationships and events. That’s quite a different way to perceive reality, don’t you think?
Writing this just now I find my mind calling up one of the books which changed my thinking about health care – Hans-Georg Gadamer’s “Enigma of Health”. In those essays he makes it clear that health isn’t an object we can measure, or a product we can make. Think of it this way. Chances are you are not particularly aware of your right thumb at this very moment, but trap it in a car door, and you become instantly extremely, excruciatingly aware of it! But once that injured thumb has healed, it fades into the background again. We doctors are taught a lot about pathology and the natural history of diseases. But “health”? It’s not even easy to define. We can become aware of the parts of our body which are diseased, but it’s pretty difficult to notice actual health…..that’s the enigma….as you heal, the diseased part becomes kind of invisible again.
Here’s a photo I took on the nearby Ile d’Oleron one day –

And here’s a passage from Carlo Rovelli, which goes well with this image –
The world is not a collection of things, it is a collection of events. The difference between things and events is that things persist in time, events have a limited duration. A stone is a prototypical ‘thing’: we can ask ourselves where it will be tomorrow. The world is made up of networks of kisses, not stones.
The universe isn’t as solid or fixed as we often assume. And I think that’s beautiful.







