Heroes Not Zombies

When I look at this old photo I immediately have the impression that the kite is pulling the boat. But that’s just a coincidence of positons. They are, of course, unconnected. Well, except when I use my imagination.

Imagination let’s us see what’s possible, and also what’s not possible. We use it to create patterns, connections and stories. It expands and deepens our everyday experiences making them unique to us. Imagination brings the subject and the object together.

When I look at this photo my imagination kicks in as I see the vast expanse of the sea, the ferry on the horizon, and the setting sun. It conjures up thoughts of travel, of distant places, of what lies beyond….beyond the limits of my vision, beyond the curve of the Earth. I wonder where the passengers will wake up in the morning.

I see the kite surfer’s kite, high in the sky, blown by invisible winds, and if I look very carefully I can see the kite surfer skimming over the surface of the water.

It’s a still photo, but nothing in it is still. The kite, the surfer, the ferry, the sea, the sun….everything is movement.

In the French town of Aubigny-sur-Nère I found this phone box. There’s a plaque on the back which tells you that it’s a gift from the people of Haddington, a town near Edinburgh in Scotland.

This phone box has been turned into a free book exchange. You can take any book you’d like to read, and leave any you’d be happy to share with others.

I like the depth this brings to the core value which I think we need more of in this world – connecting.

When it had a phone in it this box was a beacon of connection. It was where anyone in the community could have a conversation with others far away. It brought people closer, enabled them to build and deepen their relationships. It allowed them to find help when they needed it, and to offer help to others.

Now that it’s a book exchange it enables the exchange of ideas, the re-telling of stories, the stories which inspire us, encourage us.

Whether through the telephone or through books this little red box is a symbol of making connections.

And look how deep are the connections in Aubigny-sur-Nère, the town where, in 1295, an alliance was formed between the Scots and the French. An alliance, a friendship, a connection which has existed for so long we call it “The Auld Alliance”. An alliance formed for military reasons, which over the centuries became a deep, and lasting friendship.

Making connections – communicating, sharing, telling stories, describing experiences, building mutually beneficial relationships between diverse and different people. Listening with empathy, listening attentively, listening without judging…..

It’s how we build a better world.

My mum passed way peacefully this morning. She was 93 and spent this last year of her life in a care home with increasingly severe dementia. I am hugely grateful to the staff of the home who consistently presented cheerfulness, kindness and care. She was well looked after and, somewhat bizarrely, seemed perhaps more content in recent months than she’d been for some time.

It’s a tough disease, dementia, as the person you know disappears slowly from the world but I’m glad that, for her, the world she disappeared into was the one of her happy childhood.

My dad died back in 2015 and I know this is a natural and universal experience. You’ll also have lost family members or other loved ones, I’m sure.

Perhaps that connects us even more deeply…..this shared, yet always unique, experience.

From my heart to yours. Thank you for your continuing support and connection.

I saw this illustration on the wall of a bookshop in Orleans. It immediately struck me as consistent with Iain McGilchrist’s hemispheres theory.

The right hemisphere allows us to engage with the world as a whole, using a broad, open attention which enables us to create relationships, subject to subject. We see a world of living creatures this way, of vital, vibrant organisms.

The left hemisphere allows us to engage with components of the whole, using a narrow, focused, analytical attention. It re-presents and re-cognises what it already knows. We see a world of parts, machines and mechanisms this way. A world to be manipulated and controlled.

You can see why it’s best to use the whole brain, can’t you?

Nature loves diversity.

Loss of diversity results in loss of resilience and sustainability.

Diversity is healthy and it’s beautiful.

I think this fundamental characteristic of Nature teaches us how to be healthy, individually and as a society. A diverse diet is a healthier one….too much of any one foodstuff isn’t good for you. Diversity in our activities is also healthy. Getting stuck in a habit, or worse, and addiction is never good. Diversity of activity at work is also healthy. The capitalist, industrial model of fashioning a human being into a machine like cog to carry out the exact same limited range of tasks isn’t good for any individual. Diversity of races, traditions, beliefs and values produces healthy societies.

There are churches and cathedrals throughout the whole of France. I don’t go into them all because I can feel overdosed with them. Also, I’m not Catholic, so have no identification with the symbols and artworks inside. However I can’t help but be impressed with the architecture. These high vaulted ceilings are awe inspiring, which is, I’m sure the intended effect.

These are the sacred spaces of the European Catholic tradition. Maybe that tradition is your tradition but even if it is, do you have any particular spaces which seem sacred to you?

I think the idea of a sacred space is far greater than one connected to a single religious tradition.

My own sense of sacred space is more natural. There are parts of Scotland where I feel intensely connected to what is greater than me…certain waterfalls, woods, hilltops. But I also feel it in the most ancient outdoor spaces….the circles of standing stones, Neolithic stone carvings, the remains of ancient dwellings.

There’s something very pleasing, and even magical, about ripples and waves. I find them mesmerising, and I suspect you may do too.

I remember when we learned about “interference patterns” at school and being amazed at how the interacting waves created quite beautiful displays.

The thing is there are these waves and ripples everywhere. Most of them are invisible, but they are around us, and flowing through, interacting within us.

Isn’t it amazing that our heart beats out a rhythm which sends waves like this out beyond our body to resonate with the hearts of others?

I stepped outside yesterday and saw this lying on the path. I stopped, crouched down, and took this photo.

Look closely. Isn’t it beautiful? I love the arrangement of the five leaves and they look truly bejewelled by the water droplets. Then, look even more closely and each of those droplets appears like one of those beautiful paperweights which were popular once upon a time (haven’t seen any in a shop for quite a while but maybe that’s just because I haven’t been looking for them)

Every one of those tiny domes of water looks like a little lens, reflecting its surroundings whilst magnifying what lies beneath it. Each one is magnificently separate, the surface tension of the water molecules forming a perfect boundary. Yet none of those drops would have just landed here as if from nowhere. The whole surface of the leaf would be covered with water molecules which gathered together to form these distinct droplets.

Beauty, wonder, awe, l’émerveillement du quotidien……what an incredible world we live in.

I am fascinated by water. Who isn’t? Even little children in the kindergarten are fascinated by water! I love how it thunders down over waterfalls, or lies calmly reflecting the sky on the surface of a pool. I love how it creates such beauty when it freezes and still can’t quite believe that absolutely every single snowflake is unique.

I especially love when you can see enormous, apparently unchangeable rocks, smoothed and carved into all kinds of shapes by flowing water…..like in my photo here of Bracklinn Falls.

I love to see the great expanses of water when you stand on a beach, on an Atlantic Shore. I can stand watching the waves for ages.

But water is also a great metaphor for the Life Force. Both flow through us. We live constantly surrounded by both. They give us life, shape us and sustain us.

Wonder isn’t the same as curiosity, but the latter can lead to the former. I’ve often described myself as “insatiably curious”. I always wanted to know more about every single patient. I’m fascinated by a wide range of subjects and it’s easy to follow my curiosity down a rabbit hole on Wikipedia or the rest of the internet.

But I only learned later in life that wonder was something different, something deeper and more powerful. The experience of wonder includes being amazed or being in awe of something. It brings a deep humility, a conviction that we humans can never know all that could be known and that our understanding is always limited.

I remember learning embryology at university and being utterly amazed at the journey of the fertilised egg, through multiple phases of cell splitting and differentiation, develop all the organs and tissues of the body in all the right places. That still astonishes me.

I remember witnessing patients in the moments leading up to death and wondering just what was happening. I am still amazed how it appears that one moment the person is alive, and in the next, they’re gone. Awe is the only word for it.

I have countless memories of patients healing, recovering from life threatening illnesses, repairing broken bones, broken skin, broken hearts. Time and again, I was in awe at their healing and growth.

Then when I came to live in France I discovered “l’émerveillement du quotidien”, and realised that’s the key to a good life – to wonder, to be amazed, to be in awe of the world I’m living in every single day,

Like Heschel, now I understand that wonder leads to both happiness and the experience of a life worth living.