Euan Semple's Blog, page 33

We have no clue

It’s been fascinating watching the scaremongering punditry around Putin’s invasion of Ukraine. Everything from confident predictions of escalation and nuclear war, to self flagellating accusations that the liberal west had been naive about global progress and that aggression was still an inevitable part of human nature.

It now seems as if Putin has miscalculated in a number of ways and there are glimmers of hope. But of course he did. War is probably the least predictable of all human activities.

In fact we have pretty much no clue of what is going to happen in the future. Even individually. Even tomorrow.

We should stop paying attention to pundits, or even our own fears. Who knows what will happen?

Taking the world for granted

Yesterday I had a lovely walk around Kew Gardens with my good friend Paolo. We were talking about the latest iOS update which finally brings identification of various objects in Photos to the UK.

In order to try it out I turned to the magnolia tree next to us and without thinking took this photo.

When I got home and was telling Mollie about the update I showed her the photo and she said “Gosh, that’s beautiful”

I hadn’t even noticed…

Reality

One of the reasons I climb hills is for the intense experience of place. The combination of beauty, powerful weather, effort and risk is intoxicating. It makes me feel alive.

It also makes me feel insignificant. It reminds me of my place in the grand scheme of things and my inescapable ephemerality. (Four have lost their lives in the Scottish hills since Edwin and I were there a couple of weeks ago and 23 had to be rescued off Ben Nevis in one day)

But now, sitting in my home in “leafy Bucks” the hills feel unreal. Was I really there? Did we really brace ourselves against that wind trying to whip us off the hill? Is that really Edwin in the photo handily providing a sense of scale?

As Jon Kabat-Zinn once said “We only have moments to live”. Reality is fleeting. Enjoy it while you can.

Facts

I made the mistake last night of looking at the comments on an official HS2 post on Facebook.

The post was an attempt to convince us that carving bloody great scars out of an Area Of Outstanding Natural Beauty was a good thing and was being done “responsibly”. It’s a bit like the hoardings that they have put up around their worksites that are decorated with images of woodland and wildlife. Forget the art work, give us back the real thing!

In the midst of the resulting, and predictable, anti HS2 vitriol there was a long, and frankly patronising, comment from a senior engineer working on the project accusing naysayers of being ignorant and uneducated about “the facts”.

His facts are on paper, based on an imaginary future, abstract and of the intellect. Our facts are ancient woodlands that are no longer there, gentle hills whose shape was determined during the ice age that are currently raw and bleeding and that at best will look like reclaimed spoil heaps in the future.

Facts are slippery things and too often the chosen weapons of bullies.

Fleeting thoughts

I love reading about people who have invested time and energy in journaling and note taking. I too have played with a lot of solutions over the years.

But, as is the case with this blog, I almost never go back and read anything that I have written.

This isn’t a reason not to write though. The writing itself has value. Putting vague thoughts into words. Seeing your trivial worries written out even if you never share them.

And yes, sharing stuff like this so that other people who might feel the same pressure to try to keep up with the ever exanding trawl net of detritus that we leave behind realise that it’s OK not to!

Immunity

“Fortunately, some are born with spiritual immune systems that sooner or later give rejection to the illusory worldview grafted upon them from birth through social conditioning. They begin sensing that something is amiss, and start looking for answers. Inner knowledge and anomalous outer experiences show them a side of reality others are oblivious to, and so begins their journey of awakening.
Each step of the journey is made by following the heart instead of following the crowd and by choosing knowledge over the veils of ignorance.”
 

Henri Bergson (via whisky river)

Miracles

Something wakes me early.

Rather than doom scroll I tap out words, one character at a time, on my phone screen.

Seconds later those words appear on your screen and enter your consciousness.

This is truly bloody miraculous and yet we have so quickly taken it for granted.

Making assumptions

I look at my cat Albert and wonder what goes on in his little head.

I realise that I have no clue whatsoever.

I look at my wife and family.

I assume that I know exactly what they are thinking and respond accordingly.

I am deluded.

Too soon?

On our walk yesterday Mollie and I noticed a couple of bees flying off in search of the few spring flowers blossoming at the roadside.

True there were subtle signs of spring. A slightly different smell. Almost imperceptible changes in colour.

It’s that time of year when hope starts to flicker.

But there is also anxiety on the bees’ behalf.

Is it too soon?

Butterfly wings

Each time we give in to feelings of righteous indignation, judgement, or anger and write or say something in public we have a disproportionate effect.

Someone else, somewhere else, may hear what we say and feel encouraged to express their own, previously hidden, indignation, judgement, or anger. We have no control over this.

If enough people see, hear, and respond, tipping their own balance from calm to irritation, these sentiments become widely visible.

They may become visible to people with inconceivable power, with fingers on buttons that could wreak unimaginable havoc around the world. They may feel that all this widely expressed indignation, judgement, or anger justifies their actions.

We should be careful when and where we express our indignation, judgement, or anger.

Perhaps we should express and share feelings of calm and kindness instead?