30 Days of Perception: (1) 'Being' - days 6-10

This is the second post in the series '30 Days of Perception'. The first post, with explanation of the project, is here. But something more needs saying about the process of using the daily prompts. They aren't topics which we're being asked to 'illustrate' with images. They are prompts for a particular focus of present-time awareness throughout the day.

So, in my own case, I 'hold' the prompt in my mind, a bit like a meditation focus for the day . . . and then 'notice what I notice', so to speak, as the day progresses. As a result I may particularly be struck by some experience, that will happen in a specific time and place, with specific surroundings . . . and then I will  return to make an image of it. Photographing 'in the moment' is not always feasible . . . in the previous post, for instance, I didn't have my camera to hand in the shower!

For Day 6, our prompt was movement - of two kinds: first 'inner' movement, that is movement of/in the body; second 'outer' movement, movement of elements of the external world. In this instance, I made two images, one for each of these aspects.

Day 6 (a) - movement in/of the body
It happened that I went to Birmingham on this day, and walked a lot on the city pavements. I became very aware of my feet, of my heel striking the ground, of the roll of my foot as I moved forwards, and consequently of the orthotics in my shoes which help with the stability of my ankles. So when I got home, I took this photograph of my foot resting on an orthotic.

Day 6 (b) - movement in the external world
As I was returning home from Birmingham, the rain was falling and I felt the movement of it as it fell on me, saw the movement of it as it fell in front of my eyes, saw it running down the bus windows as I returned from the train station. So when I was back in my house, where my camera would stay dry, I took this (grainy, low-light) photograph of raindrops running down my bedroom window.

Day 7 - intuition
Today's email prompt included:

Today, we’ll tap into your intuition, or body wisdom. How are you at listening to what your body is telling you? Many of us are not so much because we’re used to letting our minds lead. Today, you’ll flip the switch and let the body lead for a change.

In order for anyone other than me to make any sense of the image below, a ridiculous amount of explanation is required! I suffer from Chronic Fatigue Syndrome (CFS). One of its characteristics is miscommunication between brain [NB: not 'mind'] and body. It's a bit like your brain going into overdrive, perceiving the body as more fatigued than is actually the case, and then being over-protective and urging rest, telling you that you're too tired to do . . . whatever. Thus, managing the condition, as well as actually improving the symptoms, requires systematic over-riding of these felt, intuitive fatigue signals, so as to re-educate that brain-body connection; for instance as in a 'graduated exercise programme'. For someone who believes in 'listening to my body' this is extraordinarily difficult, frustrating and 'counter-intuitive' (quite literally!).

So, I have an activity tracker that I wear on my wrist, which I use as an objective check on how much I should believe my subjective body-sense of fatigue. At about 4.30pm today I started to feel tired, that I'd done enough for today, that I might just sit down and read or listen to the radio . . . so I checked in with my wrist device which told me that I had no objective reason to be feeling like that . . . so here is a photograph of my left wrist, with my watch and the device . . . the choice of monochrome somehow reflects what it's like to override the intuition.

Day 8 - emotion
Two photos today.

First: a surge of delight . . . at the beauty of the range of autumn colours in the park, touched also by the deeper pleasure that this is autumn behaving as it should, trees looking as they should at this latitude in November.

Second: a stab of grief, this time in my back garden . . . a Forsythia tree trying to flower at the same time as it's shedding its autumn leaves. At my latitude, this is a spring flowering shrub and its confused behaviour now is a consequence of abnormal weather patterns . . . which are but the surface manifestation of climate change, the source for me of a much greater grief . . .

Day 9 - colour
Today's prompt caused me really to notice how, in my personal space, I surround myself with soft, muted colours, or else mid- to dark-toned textured colours. In neither my home nor my clothing do I favour bright, bold colours that shout at me, or impose themselves on me.

When I went out this morning my attention fell on the trees, the trees, the trees . . . the autumn colours are so wonderful just now. But I photographed trees yesterday, so I thought I would wait to see what else my eye found . . . and then suddenly there was this, in the town square (and just a quick unconsidered snap on my phone):

Day 10 - slow down
Today's prompt was another version of being-here-now: to replace goal-oriented behaviour with being - such as, for instance, walking in order to walk, rather than walking in order to get somewhere.

I received the email with the prompt, on my phone, while I was on a very early train to London. This is not characteristic of me! But I had an early out-of-hours Member's pass to see a new exhibition at the British Museum. So, on arrival in London, I needed to walk briskly, goal-oriented, to get to the museum for my timed entry . . . but then, once inside, there was the instant switch to the museum-stroll, the gallery-stroll . . . it's not at all the same thing as a mindful walk in the country, say, but it can have some of that quality if you choose . . . and then my eye was drawn strongly and deeply to this:

It's technically a terrible photo - but with only my phone, in very low lighting, looking at a spot-lit sculpture . . . nothing to be done about the blown highlights. But that's not the point . . . and it's not (though you might imagine it could be) a Buddha. It's thought to have been the head of a sphinx that formed part of a column base, from Nineveh and dating from roughly 700BCE. It stopped me in my tracks and the effect lingered for the whole of the rest of my time in the exhibition.