Mindfulness is the nuclear fuel of reality creation

So… it is observation that crystallises concrete reality from infinite possibilities. So says Neil’s Bohr’s Copenhagen interpretation of quantum mechanics. 

(In quantum mechanics, wave function collapse is said to occur when a wave function—initially in a superposition of several eigenstates—appears to reduce to a single eigenstate (by “observation”). … In 1927, Werner Heisenberg used the idea of wave function reduction to explain quantum measurement.)

In effect we, our conscious selves, are engines of observation and therefore at the cutting edge, creating reality. 

What of mindfulness? This is how to jet propel or nuclear power this process. Why? Simple, as observation intensifies , by the living in the present in connection with life around, so does the creative crystallisation process.


..a tale of a fruct’d toffs wife

Richard, a Viscount was somewhat dyslexic

For Knightly his sucking sour fruit made him sick

He’d mistook what he’d read

For he thought it had said

Was “for verses get your tongue round a lime Rick”
His wife said “my brick, your lipstick is citric

Our unfructiful life is missing its kick

When you come to our bed

Whither pencil of lead?

Oh Rich, oh my Ricky, my limey lick’d Dick”


The unifying simplicity of Robert Frost, Walt Whitman and Eliot is being bludgeoned and debased – replaced by the vulgar (perhaps there’s an emoticon for this?)

In California last week I was struck by the pidgin that is the common currency. A poverty of English of small vocabulary, where all roads lead to “dollar”.  There have been many times when immigrants have formed separate language pools – America has been after all the 19th century refuge for German and the 20th century sanctuary for Hebrew.  Always though there has been cross-pollination and a renewal of hybrid vigour to American thought.

There appears now to be a new rudity, a combination of reduction and crudity. Language forms our pattern of thinking and therefore action. Not only do we now  txt rather than speak thereof, we i-comm rather than talk eye-to-eye. We pay not in kind, or with its alias the banknote – but rather with digits (yes literally fingers and thumbs). Our taxi driver – the new Uber-Mensch (now there’s irony).

Where then the subtelty of the road not travelled, the latent potential of the children in the rose-garden, allowing the hope of amalgamation of fire and rose?

We must speak richly, and by all means simply. We must hear and understand the whole unlikely set of partial conflicts that is our neighbour, and resolve these across the wavebands of our own multiplicity.  Otherwise we fall. Divided. Islands of I-land emoting by txt across a widening sea.

Beware the sound bite particularly where it vilifies an “other”. Mexicans, Trump isn’t America. English, Sturgeon isn’t Scotland. Europeans, that’s what we – the British remain.

God and the Feminine

As you go about the world, ready to smile, it is most often the feminine rather than the masculine that smiles back. Whether in man or woman. The anima rather than animus. (Not that one is always ready to smile of course).

“If you and I are to live religious lives, it mustn’t be that we talk a lot about religion, but that our manner of life is different. It is my belief that only if you try to be helpful to other people will you in the end find your way to God.”
― Ludwig Wittgenstein

I’m not sure of the point of masculine qualities in the modern world. Aggression and all that goes with it. Perhaps male is simply necessary for female to exist at all?

“You couldn’t have strength without weakness, you couldn’t have light without dark, you couldn’t have love without loss”
― Jodi Picoult


Creativity and the Edge

Humans are fundamentally creative; it is in our nature to originate.This requires us to live close to boundaries.That’s hard, painful because edges are unsafe. They are the source of the unknown – not just because of what lies beyond the boundary – but mostly because of what new forces are stirred up at the tidal line where systems interact.

There is a condition known by psychoanalyists as claustroagrophobia. This is a type of psychosis when a person lives on the shoulder of many societies. Claustrophobic if immersed at the centre of a group, agrophobic if excluded. It seems to me that many great thinkers may have expressed this as a quality, rather than a problem – oscillating between sociability and introversion, living even in this way at the boundary between the external and internal world.

The reward for this stressful unsafe existence? Certainly not money or security. It is the glistening fish of a truly new idea – hooked and netted out of the maelstrom and whirlpool of the meeting of many worlds.

When we create something unique and original – whether written, composed, painted, or thought  – it is hard work. Analagous to giving birth.

“This is the eternal source of art: a man is faced by a form whihc desires to be made through him into a work. This form is no offspring of his soul, but is an appearance which steps up to it and demands of it the effective power. The man is concerned iwth an act of his being. If he carries it through, if he speaks the primary word out of his being to the form which appears, then the effective power streams out, and the work arises. The act includes a sacrifice and a risk. This is the sacrifice; the endless possibility that is offered up on the alter FJLof form. For everything which just this moment in play ran through the perspective must be obliterated; nothin of that may penetrate the work. The exclusiveness of what is facing it demands that it be so. This is the risk: the primary word can only be spoken with the whole being. He who gives himself to it may withhold nothing of himself. The work does not suffer me.. to turn aside and relax in the world of It; but it commands. If I do not serve JLit aright it is broken, or it breaks me.”

Martin Buber Ich und Du


Diary of a Hypocrite

Diary of a hypcrite. Gemuetlichkeit.. means smug self righteousness and self satisfaction.. a wake up call for all of us who bemoan Brexit Trump etc..I scored 190 in the Sunday Times liberal elite quiz.. every one I know scores over 150…good? Don’t be so sure. The Sunday Times take is as follows (and they have a point)..”over 150? You’ve made it. You are an overeducated elitist snob, part of the detached and superior 5%. When the Brexit result came in you probably coughed up blood. You have no understanding of the lives of the rest of us, and you live in an area where the poor are kept tidily out of sight, until you need them to convert your basement into a kitchen-diner”.

Me? An anti Trump march in London followed by ballet at the Royal Opera House and overnight at my club. But hey, I go to Church most Sundays..


Neither zero nor infinity have boundary

As we enter the world we are infinite. We have no boundary. We are zero. At three months, or so, we begin to distinguish that there is an “other” – the breast as part object. By 6 months old the boundary between us and the other (usually mother) is clear; and often frightening. Warmth, food, security and affection can be withdrawn as well as present. Our world is strait, though we do not know it. As we age and explore we push the boundary back; and back. If we are fortunate, and conquer our fear, we realise once more that there is no boundary. We are existence and all of existence is us. Death is an illusion. When we leave the world we can then fade to white and lose the loneliness and fear that haunts life, to experience all that is directly once more.