Heroes Not Zombies

Peter Gabriel, one of my all time favourite musicians, has just launched a new project/album, called “I/o”. He’s going to release one track at a time, each one to coincide with a full moon. As he says in his video describing the project, every time we look up at night and see a full moon approaching we’ll know the next track is about to be released. I’ve not known anyone else do that but it sure appeals to me.

The idea of an album being released track by track over a period of time of course is similar to all the long form streaming fiction we are so familiar with in recent times. The habit of binge watching long form fiction has been countered by a growing number of producers making their viewers wait a week at a time to see the next episode, something that only works first time unless you are wonderfully disciplined. (Have you ever done that? Have you ever watched, say 10 episodes just one episode per week once all 10 have been made available?)

But it also reminds me of how novelists like Dickens used to publish their stories in serial form in periodicals.

Here’s the video of Peter Gabriel describing the project and the first track, Panopticom.

The title, Panopticom, is a neologism. He picked up on the Jeremy Bentham idea of a “panopticon”, a prison designed to facilitate maximum surveillance of the prisoners, and turned it around to imagine something that would allow us, the ordinary people, to be able to see what the people with power were doing. He briefly describes his idea of an actual “panopticom” (with an “m” for “com” or communication), which I find both intriguing and inspiring.

I don’t know how we get there, but I’ve long since believed that transparency, total transparency, is the only way to reduce the widespread abuses of power by politicians, corporations and the rich. If the “Panopticom” can be realised, then maybe it will be at least one step towards that goal.

Check it out and see for yourself. I think this is an idea worth developing.

We’ve been having such changeable weather recently, each day wave after wave of heavy rain interspersed with periods of bright sunshine and blue sky. So, I took my chance when the sun came out and walked up to the edge of the wooded part of the garden.

I’d noticed this particular tangle of trees from the back window and was intrigued to explore it further. What caught my eye was the depth of entanglement….several different trees, now all without their leaves, each of them stretching their branches and twigs between and through each other.

I’ve cut away a lot of brambles, ivy and creepers from this particular group in this first year in the garden. You can see the huge iron rings which I found clasped tightly between the trees as they’ve grown up through them.

There are a number of pieces of old agricultural equipment scattered through this part of the garden. The hamlet where I live now was once a farm owned by several generations of one family. My house was originally the farm house and our gite was a large barn. I think these huge rings would have come from an old wine press, bits of which I’ve still to uncover in other parts of the garden. You can guess how many years ago they were thrown there from the fact the trees have lifted them up off the ground as they’ve grown.

The patterns of tree branches and twigs are endlessly fascinating. Although the pattern of growth occurs fairly simply by dividing and subdividing, throwing off new growth along the stems, the final positions and forms are completely unpredictable. There’s no way you could draw them in advance.

I love how all the elements in this photo are so intricately entangled. I love the diversity and co-existence you can see here. And of course all the creatures who live in and around these trees aren’t visible at the moment but I see the robin and the blue tits in here regularly, and recently saw the bright red flashes of two woodpeckers.

There are whole ecosystems in there. How lucky am I to be surrounded by such beauty and complexity?

I haven’t been in the garden much in recent weeks. After our months long drought and record heat which turned everything brown and crispy we’ve had a few weeks of rain and cold….too wet and too cold to be in the garden. But that’s been followed by a few weeks of rising temperatures and clearer skies. All the crispy brown ground has gone, replaced with soaking wet green and muddy patches here and there.

So I took advantage of a mild sunny day and made a tour of the garden. The first thing I discovered were these snowdrops. First week of January seems early for them and I soon found dozens of daffodil and tulip bulbs sprouting a couple of inches or more above the soil. Signs of new growth emerging everywhere.

We tend to think of winter as a sleepy time in Nature with some animals hibernating, many trees losing their leaves and an absence of buds and flowers, so stumbling across signs of new growth and emergence everywhere creates a feeling of waking up, of winter waning and early spring here already.

I made my way around the new paths I created through the little forest last year. They were covered with dark decomposing leaves and bright green “weeds” bursting through everywhere so I took the leaf rake and cleared the first two paths, then got down on my knees and began pulling out the weeds.

Near the dark earth I could smell the soil and it smelled good. I’m not very well equipped with words to describe smells and I can’t think of a better word than “earthy”! But it got me thinking about the phase of decomposition, something which often disgusts us but which is vital part of life. I’m glad it smelled good because it helped me admire that phase.

You know, as part of learning to be a doctor I had to study physiology and biochemistry and they both explored the full range of “metabolism”….the processes of building up molecules from the ones our cells break down.

Without the balanced forces of creation and destruction there would be no life.

When I say balanced of course I don’t mean equal and static. I mean that dynamic interplay better represented by a Yin Yang symbol than a pair of scales!

As I pulled out the weeds from the path I marvelled at their life force. I planted several different plants in the forest last year but none of them have been remotely as successful as the “indigenous” ones which were there in abundance before I started. This garden has been neglected over many years and the tendency to wildness way outweighs any sense of order. I thought again about the saying “weeds are only plants growing where you don’t want them to grow”, and I fired up my “seek” app to learn a bit more about some of the more abundant ones. Here are the four which caught my attention and sparked my curiosity.

Arum italicum, a variegated form of Arum maculatum……

Both of these plants develop beautiful hood shaped forms with little flowers shielded inside, and, if fertilised, produce bright orange or red berries.

Mercurius annua, sometimes known as French Mercury, or La Roberte! A plant which was used by indigenous peoples in North America as a salve on wounds. It’s described as a prolific plant in “neglected gardens” – well, that explains it!

Geranium rotundiflorium, which probably contributes to that “earthy” smell I mentioned earlier because geraniums do seem to have a distinctive, strong scent.

I wonder if you’re aware of the plants around you which haven’t been planted or nurtured by humans? I’m thinking I have paid them sufficient attention, dismissing them with that pejorative term, “weeds”. Turns out they can be a huge source of delight, fascination and wonder.

Gazing into a crystal ball is one traditional way to see what lies ahead. The beginning of January is a common time for us to turn our attention to the future. What do we see there? What expectations and anticipations come to the surface? What goals, projects and plans do we create for ourselves?

When I looked again at this photo of a crystal ball, I noticed that what I could actually see in the glass was the present. It’s all that lies around the ball that fills it with colour and form, and I remembered reading that both the past and the future are present in the here and now.

I don’t think of the future as somewhere over the horizon waiting for me to discover it. I think of the future as the multiplicity of possibilities which already exist today. It’s a bit like finding threads, and starting to weave them into something new, something different, something I’ve only begun to imagine.

So as I take this time to reflect and play and explore I decide to restart some activities I’d set aside. First up, Morning Pages, and, look, Julia Cameron has a new book out this week, this time focussed on writing. I’ve got two writing projects which I’ve returned to again and again over several years and it seems like they’ve come knocking at my door again.

So, I’ve decided to continue this blog but drop the posting frequency. I won’t do daily posts for a bit. I want to free up some time and mental space for my two longer term writing projects. I haven’t decided on a definite posting frequency yet but I’m thinking of twice a week…..once midweek, like this one, and one at the weekend.

How about you? Are you looking ahead and imagining new projects and plans?

As one year ends and another is born we find ourselves on another threshold, stepping forward into an unknown and unknowable future, pausing for a few moments to look back on the path we’ve taken to get here.

Take time to say thank you for the year gone by, all those moments and experiences we’ve labelled “good” or “bad”. They’ve led us to where we are now, alive and living this one, unique, unrepeatable day.

Tomorrow might be “just another day”, but the truth is tomorrow is never “just another day”. Rather it will be filled with new experiences, new encounters, new opportunities to wonder, to savour and to immerse yourself in.

This year ahead…..I hope it’s filled with love, care, kindness, wonder and delight.

I’d love to see the machine model of reality become much less used than it is. I understand how it came about. The rise of the machines which occurred during, or led to, the Industrial Revolution, transformed our societies and how we live together.

But we’ve learned a lot since those days. We looked inside the atom, that so called indivisible building block or reality and found that inside there’s nothing but waves and interactions. We mapped the human genome which was presented like a piece of computer code which determined our health and fate, and discovered that genes are turned in or off by environmental, personal factors. We’ve learned that the more interactions there are within a system, the more it functions as a whole, acquiring characteristics such as adaptability, and creative, emergent growth. We’ve discovered that the entire planet exists as a complex, living organism.

All of those discoveries have taught us that Life, and individual lives, are not machine like. We are not like machines. We are not like computers. We are embedded, massively interactive beings, each of us unique and particular, and unpredictable at any detailed level.

I hope, as we go forward, we start to live according to that reality, not the wrong headed machine model, but the flowing, interacting, complex adaptive system one.

This is one of my favourite photos. It isn’t a snowflake but a single water droplet which has frozen into this leaf-like pattern.

Isn’t it beautiful?

Doesn’t it make you want to pause and wonder, to be amazed at the pattern and form?

It always reminds me how the universe creates uniqueness everywhere. No other icicle will look exactly like this one. It will have appeared over a few hours, then it’ll be gone again as the ice turns back to water, and the water evaporates into the air. It’s like a kind of magic…..from the invisible, to the visible and back again.

One of my all time favourite books I’d recommend to anyone is David Wade’s Crystal and Dragon: the Cosmic Dance of Symmetry and Chaos in Nature, Art and Consciousness. Wow, that’s quite a title, huh? It’s a brilliant exploration of how the opposite forces of order and disorder, of discipline and wildness, play together to create all the beauty which surrounds us.

I’m convinced that both what we see/notice and what we experience are heavily influenced by the circumstances, the environments and contexts in which they occur. In other words, what frames our view or experience influences not just what we see, but what we “make of it”.

Two extreme points are the pessimistic one where everything seems bleak, life seems to be against them, and they notice all the negatives, and the ultra optimistic one, where they always see the silver lining, are permanently hopeful and notice all the positives.

You might argue these dispositions are innate, even genetic, but whatever their origins, there’s no doubt they create very particular frames through which to view the world.

Even if the origin is genetic, it’s my experience that the frames can be changed. We can choose a frame of beauty, goodness and truth. We can choose a frame of kindness, love and care. We can agree with Einstein that the universe is a friendly place.

What frames do you use most frequently? And what frames would you like to use next year?

How can you ever get to know another person? It’s not easy, and it takes time, but more than anything it takes love.

I’m not going to write a big essay on love here, love takes many forms, and whole books have been written about it, but it’s something everyone understands. We know when we feel love, care or compassion for another. We know when we feel loved and cared about. It doesn’t need a lot of dissection.

There seems to be ever more division, hatred, fear and judgement these days, but the counter to all that is, and always will be, love.

When we suspend judgement, refuse to generalise and categorise, then we can open our hearts and minds, and with good intent, listen to “the other”, who will always have a unique story to tell us.

Here’s a wee recommendation for the holiday season. On YouTube you can find a remarkable series of films called “Human”, by Yann Arthus-Bertrand. He filmed people from all walks of life, in a wide variety of countries and cultures, getting them to speak directly to camera, and to say a little about their lives.

I’ve never seen anything quite like this, and have watched it all the way through, as well as returning to particular interviews again and again. Each person looks directly at you, which carries a very particular power. It’s moving, engaging and frequently challenging.

It’s a huge project, but I recommend you check out “Volume 1”. Treat yourself to some time spent in the light of love.

Was that a kind thought, a kind word, or a kind action?

I think kindness is a good standard for us to measure our thoughts, words and actions against.

I’m more impressed with a reflection on how kind something was than how it fits in a batch of statistics. I know kindness is not measurable, but then neither is love, care or respect, but that doesn’t matter. We don’t need to attribute a number to it to know just how kind, loving or caring a thought, word or action was.

And let me be absolutely clear here – “you have to be cruel to be kind” is utter nonsense. You have to be kind to be kind.

It’s easy to become overwhelmed by all the stories of cruelty, violence and neglect in the world, but we are surrounded every day by ordinary people acting kindly towards others.

And hey, even if we don’t seem to be, you can still choose to be, yourself.

So when you’re thinking of starting a new journal in the new year, maybe you’ll include a gratitude section to note what you’re thankful for, but I think it’s also good to note what kind thoughts you had today, what kind words and kind actions you experienced today – both those carried out by you, and by others.

Here’s the mirror I want to look in each day next year – the one that inspires me to reflect on kindness, love, care and respect.