A couple of weekends ago I participated in a 'photo marathon'. It was a really fun event that involved picking up two themes every two hours and going out to get one shot of each theme. These were my six shots. The first theme was circle(s).

The second theme was the street. I did several long exposures trying to capture the movement of it and bring it to life a bit. This is the one I submitted:

After a coffee and cake break, we went back for more. The next two themes were Looking In, and Green. Looking in:

Green:

Finally, (and at this point the hubby had gone home as he'd had enough and wanted to watch the F1 qualifier) the last two themes were Unique and Shadow. I admit my enthusiasm was also waning a bit here, I'd gone home and come back out again so had only an hour to get both themes done and choose the six photos to submit, so didn't spend much time on these. But here are the two I ended up with: Unique:

And finally, Shadow:

So that was that. The weather was beautiful all day and I actually got slightly sunburned from walking around in the lovely Autumn sun all day. I enjoyed taking part and it was fun seeing all the other photographers about town doing funny things. It also got me to think about different concepts. For circles for example, I thought about doing a circle of friends holding hands, or a load of bubbles in the air (though we did try that and it was too windy). I also got a picture of a bunch of circles I drew in the sand. I didn't win anything in the competition although sitting and having tea and cake afterwards one of the judges sat with us and said that one of my pictures had been in contention. Can you guess which one? All of the pictures are up in the Morlan centre for viewing for the next couple of weeks I think. And you can see the winning photos here: http://ffotoaber.com/en/photomarathon

Sick trees

Last night I dreamt of a woodland that I was in charge of caring for. It was sickly, having suffered the felling of many trees, the planting of others that didn't fit with the ecosystem... and was now left a scraggly, rough, neglected place that needed much nurturing to bring it back to a healthy state. But I was alone, and people were after me, two men, who were trying to convince me to leave, who were menacing. I left, fearing my own safety, but had a terrible feeling they would burn it all down while I was away, and I felt guilty for putting my own safety first, but also relieved that I was alive and alright and could go on.

It's not (just) what you eat...

I've been thinking a lot about health and well-being lately. In part this is inspired by my own desire to become more healthful, in part it is inspired by intellectual musings on the eco-village I am researching, and the lifestyles of inhabitants there.

 My husband pointed me to a program on BBC2 about fasting, which started by focusing on a 101-year old Indian man running a marathon. While much of the rest of the program made me very skeptical, that first image stayed with me, and I've been wondering about this man and his lifestyle ever since. Why? Because I'd like to know more about the kind of healthy lifestyle that allows a person to live that long and be in that good shape. Wouldn't we all? I mean, there is most likely some element of luck involved, but I had a feeling from the brief interview they conducted with him that it was much more about an approach to life. The relative running with him said that he always ate very small portions of food. Obviously he was taking care of his exercise as well by running a marathon. So in some ways, no surprises there. But actually I think in the midst of this running interview, the interviewer wasn't asking the right questions. So focused was he on the food and exercise, in a quite mechanical way (as evidenced by the types of studies he looked at in the rest of the program) that he probably missed what I think is a very important point.

The running man was wearing a turban and obviously hailed from the Sikh faith. From a quick look at wikipedia (font of all wisdom ;-)) I found this about the Sikh teachings:

The Sikh religion teaches that human life is very precious, described as more precious than a diamond, which comes after great spiritual deeds and merits are done, and Sikh teachings are filled with guidance on how one should conduct one's self in order to find peace in this life and unite with God.

And also that: 

The Sikh code of conduct strictly forbids the use of intoxicants, drugs, alcohol, cigarettes, narcotics and any other foreign substance which disrupt the body; sexual relationship outside of marriage; consumption of sacrificial meat (Kutha meat) and cutting of hair. 

A mechanical view might consider that if the man was devout in his religion, not consuming intoxicants, drugs, alchohol etc, is likely to have had a significant effect on his health and longevity. But I think the first point is also very significant, that of considering human life precious and trying to live in such a way that brings peace to the self and others. Since stress is probably the number one cause of death, all things considered, putting finding peace at the core of one's goals is likely to have a massively positive effect.  I read that:

Sikhism believes in the concept of a human  Soul; (Self (spirituality) or consciousness or spirit or astral body)

Sikhs believe they can unite and become one with God in this life (Gurmukh), as the consciousness merges with God (Supreme Consciousness) through truthful living and actions and is only a matter of realization. Sikhs always greet each other with the words "Sat Sri Akaal" which literally means "Truth is Time-less being". Truth, truthful living, equality, freedom and justice are the core principles of Sikh philosophy. And this makes me think again of the eco-village and of how people are trying to live in a truthful way, trying to remove some of the elements of modern living that discord strongly with their beliefs and desires. In another similarity between the eco-villagers and Sikhs, 

Sikhs are not required to renounce the world. They aspire to live the life of a householder. Seva(selfless service) is an integral part of Sikh worship, observed in the gurdwara. Visitors of any religious or socio-economic background are welcomed, where langar(food for all) is always served to people of all origins, the same (vegetarian) food, while sitting together on the same level of the floor.

And so, I continue to play with the idea that it is not just what you eat and how much activity your body gets. Obviously both of these things are important, but I think in order both to be able to effectively manage and improve on those things, a philosophical approach is beneficial. Such an approach would consider that life, and the living body, the self, are precious gifts that connect us to 'god', in the sense that god is in everything, our selves included. Such an approach would mean that we treat our selves with care and respect, that we consider the outcomes of our actions on our bodies as well as our minds and our souls. It means looking outwards as well as inwards, as in the Sikh policy of serving the same food to people of all origins and beliefs, while sitting at the same level as everyone else. I think too, that perhaps the vegetarian aspect of the food is also significant, in the sense that it is saying that the life of animals is also sacred.  On this final point I have been pondering a lot. Vegetarianism is something I have thought about a great deal. Today I decided to draw upon the great journal access I have as part of the university and read up on the connections between vegetarianism and health. I'll save my findings for another post, and instead leave on the idea of living a truthful, egalitarian, just and peaceful life in which the self is cared for so that care can be bestowed on others. 

Saturday morning swim Part Deux: Rhythms

There are three of us in the pool, each making our steady lines back and forth, back and forth. Our breaths, in and out, bubbles to the surface, a gasp inwards, and again, and repeat, 1-2-3, 1-2-3, (in my case); But we all have our own rhythms. For a moment, all three of us are resting and the surface of the pool slowly returns to calmness, we all breathe in and out together, at three corners, and the surface slowly settles, as though our collective calm were calming it too. I set off first, into that calm, smooth water, but slowly, reverently. I break the surface with my hands, but gently, stroke, stroke, stroke, and then another person joins in, adding their rhythm to mine and we are making music, dum-dadumdum, dum-dadumdum, and on top of that dumdumdidum, dumdumdidum, and then a third beat joins in and we are a symphony of watersounds, rhythmic, polyrhythmic, complex and yet simple, a human aquatic harmony.

I had a dream...

We were visiting somewhere in North Wales. There was a festival on, lots of singing and dancing and a really fun atmosphere. I couldn't understand any of the words, and most of the people dancing were Ethiopian. I asked some people what was going on and they said it was a traditional festival of the Ethiopian people, who had been long established in the area since coming there to work in the mines. When I woke up I thought, firstly, how this didn't seem unlikely at all, except it hasn't happened, yet. Secondly, I thought, how wonderful if it did happen, and a real cultural diversity would start to show and become part of Wales and Welshness. Someone I know from my department has a quote in his email tag that says: "Can we imagine Wales as consisting of a plurality of experiences, cultures and identities? Can we rethink Welshness as heterogenous, as inclusive of difference?" (Jordan, 2005) I'd like to think we can, not least because, if I can't say I belong here, where I was born and brought up, then where can I say I am from? Three generations at least on my dad's side were born and brought up in Wales. None spoke Welsh, so does that make us always and inevitably outsiders? If I spoke Welsh would I be Welsh then? Part of me thinks identity comes about through our inhabited spaces, and the more time spent in them, the more we connect to them and the flow between our selves and our spaces becomes richer and we become our places more and more. We can still carry other places and cultures in our hearts but they will always be shaped by the place where we dwell. So we always belong in some ways, we are all global citizens, we belong wherever we are.  

World on Fire

Last night I dreamed that I was in an apartment, in a big block of apartments, surrounded by many more big blocks of apartments. The sky was dark, and fire was spreading from balcony to balcony in apartments near and far. There were several people with me, but their voices and actions did not feature. Instead, these thoughts went through my mind. First: 'Quick! Let's get fire extinguishers handy right now! When the fire spreads to the balcony we'll quickly put it out and that way we'll prevent out flat from burning!' Second: 'No, that's not going to work, the whole block will be set aflame and protecting our one flat will be futile, it will burn all the same as it's part of the building. Let's pack up everything we want to salvage and get out of here now!' Third: 'Ok, maybe just a backpack... what should I take? Photo albums? Jewelry? Books?' Fourth: 'There is nothing here that I can't replace except my self. Leave everything and get out.'

The fourth and final thought is what I was left with when I woke up. Perhaps my subconscious is trying to tell me something. What's important? No thing. What's important is living.

Saturday Morning Swim

Clothes are shed, and all belongings, save the film of a bathing suit, a swimming cap, goggles, are locked away in a little box. There is only me left, in the changing room, a calm soothing transition space. A shower to wash away the outside world, a cleansing act. And then, acceptance into the waters blue, a faint whiff of chlorine, childhood memories of Saturdays at the pool, a chemical smell with joyous associations. I drop into the water, straight down, like an anchor, giving myself to the water, and it releases me back up just the same. Breathe. The preciousness that is air. Goggles on now, and the world made slightly hazy by them, shut out, I push myself off the wall and arm over arm, breathe, arm over arm. I am not aware of my legs as they are doing their job automatically, but I am aware of my breath. Under the water I blow out, streams of bubbles float away, then head lifted a deep gulp of air, so appreciated, before plunging in again. I count, 1-2-3- breathe, 1-2-3- breathe... The outside world is lost and no thoughts are in my mind except the counting and the breathing and the movements of my body, propelling itself forwards through the water. What joy, to think that I can be a creature of the water too, that I can move in it and play in it, what freedom.

The morning had started out dull but halfway through my session the sun comes out and shafts of sunlight rain down onto the pool, making the water glisten and glitter and then it's like swimming through sunshine, through light, and I think how much like a church this is, a temple to being, a beautiful thing. The sunlight dances on our faces and bodies as we repeat the motions that take us through the water, necessarily repetitive because this is meditation after all. We the swimmers, the sun, the water, the muted sounds, murmurs and gurgles, a serene ecclesiastical ritual of living.