Heroes Not Zombies

“Wonder is not simply curiosity. Curiosity is wonder without awe and reverence. It has lost the wider context.” according to the philosopher, Mary Midgley.

I love the French phrase, “L’émerveillement du quotidien” which translates as “the wonder of the everyday. “emerveillement” isn’t limited to “wonder”, though, it includes awe and amazement. Midgley knew that wonder included these elements of awe and reverence. Like Mary Oliver, she knew that when we pay loving attention we gain a both deeper and wider experience of what we are paying attention to than when we are merely curious.

There’s a view that “objectivity” involves “detachment”, keeping yourself somehow at a distance from whatever you are paying attention to. That might have its place but it’s not how I want to live my life, and it’s not how I related to the patients who consulted me.

I want to be engaged, involved, to pay empathetic attention, and, so to do more than understand…rather to wonder – with awe, with reverence, with love for this beautiful planet and the abundant Life which thrives here in it’s infinitely diverse forms.

There’s a key to this in the last sentence of that quotation “It has lost the wider context”. As wonder replaces curiosity we see this “wider context”, we experience both what we are paying attention to and the connections which inextricably embed this uniqueness in the greater whole.

When I wonder with the curious Robin who pops down beside me to see what I’m having for lunch, who comes to see what I’m digging for, who flies down behind me to see what’s in the boot of my car when I return home from the market, then I am aware, not only of this one particular Robin, but of birds, their relationship to we humans, of the amazing expressions of Life on this planet, and even of how this tiny world is spinning in an enormous galaxy in a vast universe.

The wonder takes me from the particulars of here and now out towards the virtually unimaginable infinity and eternity of the universe. All without detaching, but, rather, by engaging, and in bringing the contexts to mind, I go deeper.

I’m not just curious about other human beings, I frequently wonder about them….with awe and reverence, with “emerveillement”.

When we bought our house here in the Charente Maritime about four years ago the garden had been pretty much neglected for a long, long time. The house had previously been someone’s holiday house and, as if often the case, when you come on your holiday you don’t want to spend the time doing house and garden maintenance.

One result of that is that pretty much everything growing in the garden had arrived here by itself.

We spend a lot of time in the garden and have reclaimed the impenetrable area we call our forest (honestly, it’s way too small to be a forest but it has the feel of one)

I love the discoveries we make. We’ve found many plants and trees which have been thriving here for years, but it’s still an actively serendipitous garden. New plants appear every year. Here are a couple of the more recent ones…

This is Russian Sage (thank goodness for smartphone abilities to recognise plants), which has popped up in a gravel area.

And this Pokeweed, a plant I know from homeopathy, but which I’d never seen in real life until it started growing in front of the wall. It grows really tall and has spectacular leaves, flowers, stems and berries!

When I saw this window, the first thing I thought was, how beautiful. Look at the colours, the textures, the range and diversity. You can tell this is very old, and, most probably fashioned by hand. It is SO interesting. It caught my attention, stopped me, and drew me in to contemplate it for several minutes.

It doesn’t just let the light into the room, it filters and shades the light, creating what is nothing short of a dynamic artwork, changing minute by minute as the sun moves across the sky.

What it doesn’t do is let you see what is outside.

So, if you think the point of a window is to let you see what is outside, then you wouldn’t see the point of this window.

The creator of this window probably thought letting light into the room, and creating an object of true beauty while it did that, was sufficient. After all, if the main purpose was to let you see what was outside, you’d have selected plain, transparent, colourless glass, wouldn’t you?

I can’t help think, when I walk around any old town in France, that we’ve moved way, way too far down the path of mere utility. I can’t remember the last time I saw a mid 20th century tower block being blown up, and thinking, oh what a shame, what a loss…… Who mourns the passing of concrete (or, worse, “RAC”?)

There are still brilliant designers, artists and craftsmen and women. I just wish we directed more resources towards them, and less towards the get rich quick, throw up a cheap, poor quality building and pocket the profits types.

Beauty humanises.

Beauty enhances.

Beauty makes a life worth living.

One day I was walking in a forest and I came across these rocks. At least I thought they were rocks. They look more like tree trunks than rocks. They look more like water flowing in the river. They look like an elephant.

There are patterns that appear in a huge variety of forms and materials in the world. The Chinese use a concept of “Li” to describe these underlying patterns which manifest through whatever appears to our eyes.

I think when you see something like this you are instantly aware of the interconnectedness of everything. The sense of a world made up of separate objects disappears.

Since emigrating to France from Scotland I have the opportunity to eat outside A LOT more often.

Whether it’s having breakfast, a coffee, lunch, or “apero”, in my garden, or having a meal, or a drink at a cafe, bistro or restaurant « en terrasse » , the climate here just allows that to happen through most of the year.

There’s loads of advice about what constitutes “a good diet”, or “a healthy diet”, but until I came across some articles in French, I didn’t think much about the importance of the non-food aspects of “healthy eating”.

Where you eat influences your experience of eating. There’s something “extra” about being able to eat outside, whether that’s in natural surroundings, like the garden, or gazing out over the ocean or a lake, or in town, “people watching”. It adds to your enjoyment, so influences your emotions, the healthy chemicals in your blood, your heart rate, and even your immune system.

Who you share your food and drink with is important too. The « apero » is an especially social activity, often sharing a board or two of cheeses and charcuterie, accompanied by a beer or a glass of wine. It’s a family event, an event shared with neighbours and/or friends, and it’s more about the people than the food and drink.

The social aspect of eating and drinking is hugely important and takes food well beyond mere “nutrients” or “fuel”.

I love this more holistic way to think about “healthy eating”. It’s not that the food isn’t important. It is. But it’s “and not or”…..the environment and the relationships around the table are also important.

There’s something else which contributes to healthy, enjoyable eating, and that’s the power of food to evoke memories. Whether it’s Proust with his Madeleines, or the dish your mum used to make, or the meal you shared with a loved one, the particular dish can help you relive great moments, and strengthen your relationships.

William Blake said we can see a world in a grain of sand, so how much world could we see in this one stone?

It was lying on a beach and from the lichen and/or seaweed growing on its surface, it’s clearly been there a long time.

And look at the layers within in the stone. Almost like the rings of a tree…laid down, accumulated, accreted, over decades, centuries even.

What’s the origin story of this one stone? How far has it traveled? How long has it lain on this particular beach?

I’m pretty sure there will be other life within the plant life there…maybe insects, bacteria, viruses….a whole ecosystem of Life.

And without trying to anthropomorphise too much, what stories could this stone tell us, if only it could? What has experienced? How has it changed in response to the events which have occurred around it within the timescale of its own existence?

And what about us?

How have events changed and shaped us? How have we cocreated our unique reality? What stories do we have to tell?

I spent my working life, one to one, with patient after patient, helping them to tell their stories, so that, together we could make sense of their experience. Time and again, they amazed me, they moved me, they intrigued me.

You can indeed see a world in a grain of sand, a whole world in one stone on the beach, a universe in the heart and mind of another.