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time to turn around from a scene not seen?

~ steve.ridgley ~ Leave a comment

Lincoln's address

Ten years ago, it would have seen a very different picture.

People congregating to admire perhaps the greatest President – the saviour of the Union. Or, maybe they would be amassing merely to gaze upon the art; the fine alabaster sculpture of Abraham Lincoln, cosseted in a columnar temple looking out to Capitol Hill.

Except now, more than half of these people are facing the wrong way. At least, facing the wrong way to look directly at the statue.

For now, unlike a decade ago, the adopted mode of recording your presence is the ‘selfie’. And so, half of the people are looking away, beaming at their mobile, posing, pointing, pulling all manner of faces. Alone, or with companions peering over an appropriately framed shoulder.

It’s an odd sight. Half looking towards, half looking away.

Maybe the ‘selfie’ posture accurately reflects the passing of time? The past appropriately behind us, looking back. As if looking in a mirror at what has gone before, whilst our bodies, and eyes, face out to the future?

There was a time we recorded photographically the thing, the place, the view. However, it seems to me that instead, in this ‘selfie’ age, what matters most is the subject in the foreground. The self. Me. I. The grinning, posing photograph taker. I am, in this moment, more significant than the history that preceded me. More relevant than the beautiful scenery behind me. More important that the place, the environment, the location.

We share these pictures to showcase first and foremost our expressions, our poses, our facial creativity, our friends, not to show off the backdrop.

I wonder what metaphor this is, for our future? Not observing the wonder around us. Instead, the preoccupation with looking at ourselves. Not deeply. Not into our soul, or our very being. But looking at our superficial, surface selves. Sharing these with others. Competing with others. Even now, we photoshop them with filters. To remove reality. To remove blemishes.

Maybe we need to face reality again? Maybe we should turn around more?

Maybe that would be a decision on the scale of those Abraham Lincoln once took?

where does the unseen go?

~ steve.ridgley ~ Leave a comment

illuminateddandelion.com

Are yawns passed on from person to person?

Do yawns travel the globe; as people of all nations, all creeds, succumb to the inevitable copying of the yawn they have just observed?

Are yawns like a Mexican wave? A chain reaction? Passing across humanity like an unheard scream?

How many are there? How many are travelling from person to person at any one moment? How many open mouths and deep breaths are currently occurring, right now?

And, what happens if a yawn is unseen? Does the yawn die?

Do yawns only continue to exist in this world because several people seeing a single yawn will replicate it, twin it? Maybe twinned yawns compensate for dying yawns? Maybe this is how the yawn species survives? Clever.

 

living life in a train cupboard

~ steve.ridgley ~ Leave a comment


Sometimes, we’re ingenious.

I spent the night and all day yesterday in a cupboard.

I shared my cupboard too. So not technically mine, more ours.

In our cupboard, which is six foot by three foot, we have two beds, two armchairs, a table with integrated chess board, two cup holders, a flushing toilet, a sink with three taps, liquid soap, face flannels, mirror, air conditioning and thermostat, a five foot window with curtains, a sound system, power sockets, a storage shelf, a ‘trash’ can, another storage shelf, a rail with hangers, five lights and no fewer than nine light switches.

Most cupboards are lucky to get one – light switch.

Welcome to Amtrak and their viewliner roomette. Our home for 23 hours. The best cupboard ever.

It’s cleverly designed to fit a lot into a small space. Through our sliding door and adjacent window (also with curtains), across the corridor, is another cupboard home for two fellow travellers. Twelve cupboard homes per train carriage.

Typically, we don’t pack that much into our lives. We don’t design things so ingeniously. We don’t make a lot fit into who we are, so that we can be authentic and true within the confines of self; authentically us, but equally expansive, broad, learning, growing, experiencing, maximising life.

Being our absolute best version of us, ever.

when the mocha is identical, but not the same…

~ steve.ridgley ~ Leave a comment

img_3123

This facade was familiar, if a little unsettling. The colonial look unexpected, but befitting the environment of the town and surrounding shops. On entering though, the internals were reassuringly recognisable, for that particular coffee shop brand.

Feeling safe and on solid ground, I approached the young man behind the counter. “I’d like a tall salted caramel mocha please.” I said.

He politely and cheerily replied “Sure sir, I just need to let you know we’ve run out of the usual syrup, so we’ll put in another one. But it’s identical.” He punched some buttons on his display, already in slick, automated drink delivery mode.

“No it’s not.” I said.
“Not identical.”

He paused, holding a cup, looking a little taken aback – possibly not used to a challenge, or to my English humour? He looked a little less certain, but meekly offered, “It normally has toffee nut syrup in, but we can put hazelnut in instead. It tastes just as good.”

“But not identical?” I offered

“No.” he conceded, before asking me my name, to write on the cup which would soon contain my ‘similar’ salted caramel mocha.

The other day I ordered a chilli (chile?) mocha. Medium, this time. The girl taking my order asked, “Hot or cold?”

“That’s sophisticated.” I grinned.

She looked puzzled.

“…to offer different varieties of chillies?” I said.

She laughed. “I meant do you want a hot drink or a cold one? … That’s good though.” she muttered, grinning widely.

Pedantic? Maybe?

I like to think I engaged this young man and woman in some banter. Something to add a little spice to the daily grind of latte, cappuccino, chai tea…

A little variation, a little change, a new reflection, a new awareness, a smile. All good ingredients for drinking in life.

trusting the invisible visibly

~ steve.ridgley ~ Leave a comment

 

trusting the invisible visibly

When we place our trust, is it with something or someone?

This is ‘Tilt’. Essentially you stand looking out the window on the 94th floor of the John Hancock building in Chicago. Then the windows tilt outwards. 30 degrees. You are then suspended, lying on a glass window, ninety four floors up.

As I queued to experience this, I was noticing my need to trust someone or something.

I looked at the mechanisms. The four hydraulic pistons that lowered the side of the building outwards. The size of the bolts. The seals on the glass. The steel framework of girders. The computer the operator used. I couldn’t see it, but I wondered about the software on that computer. I know only too well that this is often the weakest point.

Then I considered the operator himself. Could he be trusted? Was he experienced? I considered the designers. Surely they knew what they were doing? This was specialist. Then I considered the people who might have granted permission for this. The safety experts. I considered those who had tested it. Were they thorough? I looked at my potential fellow ‘riders’. They looked sensible.

Then I noticed I turned to rationality. It has been here a while and must have lowered many thousands of people. The safety testing and fail safe mechanisms must be all encompassing. Like a lift, this surely is designed with so many precautions? Glass and steel are used in applications requiring more stress and pressure than this.

Then I turned to irrational logic. Those kids are doing it. If they can, surely I can. Hang on though, those two people in front are overweight, and I’m going on with seven other adults. That’s more weight, what if it’s too much?  I ‘reasoned’ it couldn’t have failed, because I would have read about the eight people falling to their deaths.

By now my waiting time had been consumed by my trust exploration and I was up next.

I loved it.

So who or what was I needing to trust? I couldn’t tell if the mechanisms were sound as I’m not an expert. I would never meet the people involved in designing, testing or installing this.

Maybe I just needed to trust myself? Like I do every day I cross the road, or choose what I eat? Like I do when I choose everything I do and who I do it with?

The need to trust, is tangible in us. Yet trust itself, so intangible.

“oh I’m nobody…” she said

~ steve.ridgley ~ Leave a comment


Looking to validate the time slot for our tickets to the ‘Journey behind the falls’ in Niagara, we approached the ticket desk. Two ladies were busy with customers. We wandered around the large circular installation, meandering through the maze of unecesssary, queue guiding, crowd controlling barriers. We passed a couple of unmanned service points, to a lady perched on a stool, in front of a screen.

“Hello.” she greeted us. Lovely big smile. We responded likewise, and made our request.

“Oh I’m nothing.” she said. “You need to wait, or go upstairs.” She gesticulated, with a noncholent wave of a hand.

I enquired as to her dismissal of herself, of her role, of her existence, of her identity, of her right to be. Not in those words, although it struck me she was doing just that.

Turns out she was ‘guest services’. There to help with anything general rather than provide a specific service.

That seemed like something. More than something. To me at least.

We smiled and departed.

What a shame she didn’t value herself. We should all value ourselves.

the formative journeys of a shared t-shirt dream

~ steve.ridgley ~ Leave a comment

we share a dream

When we travel, we are sometimes physically apart from those we are most connected to. Family. Friends. Yet physical connections are only one way we share our lives.

This amazing t-shirt display at Buffalo International Airport (the picture only shows half) is an installation by Kaarina Kaikkonen, who works with large amounts of clothing to alter our perception of our shared spaces and shared lives. The 1000 t-shirts, which are tied together, were donated by the people of western New York. The linking of the shirts signals our movements together – the daily commutes, the migratory moments of our travels and the formative journeys we take in our lives.

It is called ‘We share a dream’.

Nice thought Kaarina.

when the mocha is identical, but not the same

~ steve.ridgley ~ Leave a comment

This facade was familiar, if a little unsettling.  The colonial look unexpected, but befitting the environment of the town and surrounding shops. On entering though, the internals were reassuringly recognisable, for that particular coffee shop brand.

Feeling safe and on solid ground, I approached the young man behind the counter. “I’d like a tall salted caramel mocha please.” I said.

He politely and cheerily replied “Sure sir, I just need to let you know we’ve run out of the usual syrup, so we’ll put in another one. But it’s identical.” He punched some buttons on his display, already in slick, automated drink delivery mode.

“No it’s not.” I said.
“Not identical.”

He paused, holding a cup, looking a little taken aback – possibly not used to a challenge, or to my English humour? He looked a little less certain, but meekly offered, “It normally has toffee nut syrup in, but we can put hazelnut in instead. It tastes just as good.”

“But not identical?” I offered

“No.” he conceded, before asking me my name, to write on the cup which would soon contain my ‘similar’ salted caramel mocha.

The other day I ordered a chilli (chile?) mocha. Medium, this time. The girl taking my order asked, “Hot or cold?”

“That’s sophisticated.” I grinned.

She looked puzzled.

“…to offer different varieties of chillies?” I said.

She laughed. “I meant do you want a hot drink or a cold one? … That’s good though.” she muttered, grinning widely.

Pedantic? Maybe?

I like to think I engaged this young man and woman in some banter. Something to add a little spice to the daily grind of latte, cappuccino, chai tea…

A little variation, a little change, a new reflection, a new awareness, a smile. All good ingredients for drinking in life.

to Helen, Eva and park benches everywhere…

~ steve.ridgley ~ Leave a comment


How fabulous to love park benches.

They are a stalwart of relaxation, of musing, of watching the world go by, of enjoying the view, of putting the world to rights, of watching the children play, of just enjoying a book.

And how glorious to have a park bench commemorating your life and loves, of each other and of park benches…

It’s not in a park. It’s on a road. Albeit a very nice road. I wonder what Helen and Eva thought about roads? Even nice roads?


This bench in Niagara on the Lake sits outside a theatre celebrating the works of George Bernard Shaw though. So maybe that’s enough.

It’s nice that something marks our existence and the things we enjoyed.

who is valuable?

~ steve.ridgley ~ Leave a comment

www.illuminateddandelion.com

Who is immoral?
Who is intelligent?
Who is hardworking?
Who is superior?
Who is disrespectful?
Who is expendable?
Who is lazy?
Who is attractive?
Who is a criminal?
Who is a killer?
Who is poor?
Who is overweight?
Who is inferior?
Who is kind?
Who is stupid?
Who is disabled?
Who deserves your judgement?