Fog, Mindfulness and Unknowing

January has seen the UAE and many other parts of the world covered in blankets of fog at various intervals. It has affected travel, has had much written about it in the news and has been photographed by many from ground level and up high; all as if it has wanted to gain our attention.

As I was travelling on the metro and looking out at the fog, I recalled a work written by an anonymous mystic in the 14th century, entitled “The Cloud of Unknowing”. The fog certainly depicted an unknowingness and got me thinking about “unknowing”.

When moving within the confines of the fog, the knowledge of where something is has to be suspended for the experience of being acutely conscious of the surroundings one finds oneself in. What is behind one and in front of one is hardly visible. Experiencing the immediate is of paramount importance before one can move forward.

The mind too is so often filled with thoughts of the past and concerns for the future, that the present moment is missed. The fog is a reminder that the present moment is all there is, and as such should be welcomed with non-judgmental awareness. The fog is a reminder to be mindful.

The awareness of the present moment as experienced when being mindful I see as “unknowing”. Becoming aware of that which is incoming through all the senses, experiencing bodily sensations, noticing what one is feeling and thinking, is not a knowing with the mind but an experience of the heart.

In a blog post entitled “In the Fog, Mindfully”, Marguerite Manteau-Rao, @MindDeep, reports on the use of mindfulness meditation, as developed by Jon Kabat-Zinn, with people suffering from Alzheimer’s Disease. One gentleman reports on how it has helped him by saying that,

“Within the daily fog, I can once again find my way, comfortably myself...”

It is easy to confuse objects for something else when moving around in the fog. So too in life, we often mistake our thoughts and opinions for reality. Not taking the time to pause and notice what is actually happening leads to the repeating of old patterns of behaviour. Reacting becomes the order of the day instead of responding to the current situation at hand.

Mindfulness as an “unknowing” is not an attempt to get rid of thoughts. Instead it is a stepping back from them to watch them from an inward spaciousness. At times, with practice, the mind quiets down.

Adjusting one’s way of looking in the fog enable us to see exactly what we need to see at the right moment. Mindfulness or “unknowing” allows us to discover countless opportunities for compassion and kindness not visible to us before.

The fog has something more to share with us. Moving within the fog, (see more pics), it often suddenly parts and we are given glimpses of what is beyond it.

There is also something beyond the fog of the chattering mind.

Jan Birchfield in a recent excellent article in the Huffington post called “Innovation and the Quiet Mind” writes that

“when we quiet the mind through contemplative practices such as meditation, we eventually discover that awareness or consciousness exists beyond it.”

Mindfulness is gaining in popularity as more and more people are realizing that experiencing something fully is far more valuable than mere knowledge about it. We need more and more to “unknow” what before we were convinced was exactly so.

In a world filled with unique problems of the times, knowledge alone will be insufficient when attempting to solve these problems. Innovative ways of being are called for. Where will they be found?

“True innovation, along with any act of creativity, draws from this infinite field of intelligent awareness that exists beyond the mind. This is sometimes called pure awareness.” Jan Birchfield.

In this field of pure awarenes lies realization, innovation and creativity.

The fog is lifting.

Corridors of Cyberspace

As familiar as we are today with the concept of a corridor, it is interesting to note that corridors did not exist before the late 17th century and only became widely used in the 19th century.

“Before their adoption, circulation flowed from one room to the next, forcing interactions and confrontations between the occupants of rooms, and those just passing through. Largely determined by socio-economic factors, political upheaval, and changing approaches to morality, corridors were invented to serve a very specific purpose. They were developed as a tool to separate different groups of people - the servants from the served, the jailed from the jailors ........” (Tad Jusczyk in Consider the corridor: lessons from architectural history)

Although people could now move more efficiently through buildings, rooms became a series of dead ends. The inventions of architects have social implications and the corridor has greatly influenced how we live, work and communicate.  

The study of the architecture of cyberspace is both relatively new and exciting. 

The minute we make use of a system which enables us to communicate despite our physical location, we enter the realm of cyberspace. In this plane, information is stored, processed and passed on. Inhabited by both machines and humans, time in this realm is otherworldly. Cyberspace cannot be seen with the human eye as it cannot be physically located.

Cyberspace is experiential, and its energies are mostly intuited. 

Words which make sense in the land we have come from, are often used to describe the architecture we find when we begin to explore cyberspace. However, because this new “territory” is experiential rather than actual, we often need new words to allude to that which cannot be seen or existing words take on new meanings.  

The term “corridor” has been used to describe the pathways filled with electricity that connect communication systems, but when it comes to the individual moving around in cyberspace the concept of a corridor becomes interesting.

The experience of cyberspace is very much more one of connectivity than separation. After spending some time there the individual gains the feeling of being a node on a hologram.  One feels part of a whole, but at the same time gets the feeling that the whole enters oneself. Individuals come right into one’s mind-space via word and image, and we enter theirs.  People, places and happenings arrive before one’s eyes in realtime and sharing is key.  

And whereas each web page is a separate room and can be just that if the one entering it  so wishes, it is simultaneously a corridor with many other rooms opening off it via the links it offers. The choice lies with the user who becomes the chief architect of that space and moment. 

The clicking of a link can be equated to stepping into a corridor, but the end destination of the corridor is not necessarily fixed or known upon entering it. Its length is not fixed either.   Reading something can be abandoned midway to answer an incoming mail or check on a social media site filled with an exponential number of connections and available links. Time seems to fly in this plane and one can get lost in the same sense one used to do when reading a good book.  

Corridors in everyday architecture have become associated with mystery and sometimes danger. Online “corridors’’ have their lurkers too and obviously vigilance is required when navigating cyberspace. 

“Corridor” has a root meaning of running, but cyberspace is associated with incredible speed. If its corridors exist they flash by. 

Online “corridors” are like the arcades and passageways of malls which offer merchandise, entertainment, and places to meet and spend time together. As cultures meet in these spaces, they stop to chat and share worldviews, and the world suddenly becomes much smaller. Expansion and contraction happen simultaneously. 

 

I am by nature rather curious and love investigating new areas (see Linda in Wonderland). Words fascinate me (see Langu age). Until a new term for it is coined, and even if it is not, I am happy to be a digital nomad, an online surfer, a cybernaut or whatever else I might be named, in the realm referred to in this blog as the “Corridors of Cyberspace”.  

Related articles:

Digital Archways

Social Media - Bridging Cyberspace

Light Through - Electronic Stainglass

Whirling Dervishes - Lessons for Cyberspace

PRT, Paternoster Lifts, Cyberspace And Mindfulness

Filtering

Linda in Wonderland

Cybeflanerie: Deep Listening in Cyberspace

Tokyo2Dubai Collab

Jordan, Space and Time.

After a four day visit to Jordan, I find myself reflecting again on time and space.

Time was once viewed as being merely linear, with past, present and future. Jordan offers the visitor a perfect opportunity to find out more about past ages by visiting its many historical sites.  

Jerash, one of the sites visited on our first day, is considered to be one of the most well preserved sites of Roman architecture outside of Italy and has its origin more than 2000 years ago. 

After passing through the gate of the city the opportunity exists to witness a chariot race and gladiator fight in a Roman setting.  A walk along the cobbled streets with its columns, baths, theaters and temples allows one to picture times gone by. 

I was not able to lose myself in imagining life in those times for too long, however, as the blazing heat of that afternoon was a strong reminder to me that I am a citizen of another century.  My longing for air-conditioning as I was overcome by the heat, brought me back to the present with a jolt. 

After Jerash, we made our way to Wadi Musa, a little town just outside of Petra, a world heritage site and one of the seven wonders of the world. The whole city of Petra was carved out of the rock face by the Nabataens in the 6th century BC, but settlements began there many centuries before that. 

Our first visit to Petra was at night, along a candle lit path as far as the Treasury. The unknown route through the siq, a deep split in the sandstone rocks, required careful attention to each step, and each step along the way was a reminder that time is not only linear, but can also be experienced sequentially, from moment to moment, on and on and on.

Setting off really early the next morning, before the majority of the tourists, we were alone as we made our way to visit the whole city of Petra. We were able to see what had been above us the night before. The focus of our attention now, was space not time, as the sides of the siq towered above us. Appearing rather tiny in these surroundings, we were clearly separate from the space being inhabited. 

Space, however, can be more than just physical.  It can also be experiential.

A visit to Wadi Rum, a vast valley in the desert with uniquely shaped mountains rising out of the desert sand, provides such an experience. One easily forgets to think of the self when faced with such beauty and such vastness. Space, like time, can also take on a fluidity, stretching on and on.

While being served Bedouin tea by our guide, we suddenly saw an eagle rise above the mountain before us.  We were told that this was very unusual for this time of day, as they usually are spotted at sunrise and sunset. Earlier, when we were being shown a well, we had also seen a Bedouin lady with her camel, goats and dogs appear out of what seemed nowhere.  Time and space was definitely more fluid in this desert. 

On our last day in Jordan we visited Mount Nebo as well as the Dead Sea, the lowest place on the earth. As we wound our way by car from over 700 metres above sea level to 423 metres below sea level I remembered reading and being deeply touched by Karen Armstrong’s description of this drive in her book, “The Spiral Staircase”. I quote it here:

“With my ears popping as we passed sea level and continued our descent to the Dead Sea, the deepest spot in the world, I gazed at the extraordinary beauty of the desert and felt moved as I had never been before by any landscape.  I could not drag my eyes away from it and felt a great silence opening within me. There were no words and no thoughts; it was enough simply to be there. Perhaps other people found this quietness in prayer, but there was no God here and nothing like the ecstasies experienced by the saints. Instead there was simply a suspension of self”.  

Two experiences stand out for me in Jordan.  On our first night in Wadi Musa, we had dinner on the rooftop of our hotel.  Usually sensitive to the energy of a place, on this night I immediately became aware of feeling something I could not put my finger on.  I mentioned it as being strange, not in a weird way, but because I was not able to describe what I was feeling. After a while, I just let it be and continued to enjoy the evening.  On the second night in Wadi Musa, the minute we sat down on the rooftop again, the feeling returned.  

I have thought about it much since our return.  Surrounded on all sides by hilly mountains and ancient sites as the sun went down, I suspect that I caught a glimpse of what I can only now attempt to describe as timeless space - a dimension beyond the other dimensions of time and space I have attempted to describe above, and a dimension which words cannot adequately explain. Perhaps it was a glimpse of the silence and the suspension of self, Karen Armstrong had written of. Perhaps it was a glimpse of the fourth dimension referred to in quantum physics.  I only have a sense of knowing that it was a realm which seemed to contain all. 

The second experience was in the ancient church of St George, a Greek Orthodox Church in the city of Madaba, our last stop before heading for the airport.  At the back of the church, famous for its mosaic map constructed in AD 560, there was a small but beautiful stained glass window that drew my attention. I walked closer to it, only to discover that on the wall next to the window was a version of my favorite icon by Rublev, The Holy Trinity.  I have written about my love of this icon before, and also about my evolving relationship with it.  As I looked upon this version with an inscription in Arabic which I have not yet managed to find the meaning of, it was as if I was spiralling back above the icon yet again.

The icon has references to time, space and knowledge, and it has an invitation to sit down at the table. Seeing a version of my favorite icon when and where I had least expected to encounter it, was very special. 

Perhaps I should not have been surprised at all. 

Digital Archways

Living in Dubai, I am constantly surrounded by Islamic forms of art. Even many of the futuristic looking skyscrapers that grace the city’s skyline are modern interpretations of Islamic architecture. Calligraphy, geometric patterns, domes and arches abound, and one never has to look too far to find wonderful examples of these art forms.

As many of you know, I am a keen flaneur and iphoneographer who enjoys wandering and taking photos of Dubai’s architecture when the weather permits. With the heat outside on the increase at the moment, my outdoor expeditions are becoming a bit limited. A trip to take some photographs of the Wafi Mall the other morning, found me hastily looking for some shade.  

iPhone in hand, I found myself in an interesting outdoor passageway.  I was struck by the light and the different inner and outer arches. The pointed arch so typical of Islamic architecture caught my eye especially.  Out came my recently acquired olloclip, and this picture was the result using the fisheye lens:

Today when I looked at the photograph, I noticed how my recent reading was undoubtedly influencing the way I was viewing the image. The circle hinted at by the fisheye effect was a reminder of a wholeness within which the contents of the image appeared to be enfolded.  At the same time the distorted effect of the closest arch made it appear to be coming towards me, a reminder that it was unfolding from the space in which it was contained. 

Excited by the fact that with all the photo apps available to us now I could edit this image I set to work. My editing is done intuitively and I choose various apps according to what I feel will suit the photo at hand. Using the apps decim8, image blender and snapseed, and after four steps in the edit, this was the result:

 

Upon closer inspection you will notice that the image is not entirely symmetrical.  Certain sections are, but they stand alongside the asymmetry to be found in the overall image, adding to its enchantment in my opinion. The image, filled with color, light and shadow, hints at volume but also at void. 

The pointed arch in the middle, so typical of Islamic architecture, invites me to enter the passageway. At the same time, however, it allows me to slip around it to explore the surrounds. 

I have been reading about Baroque art and how in this art form with its many scenes flowing into each other and almost into the space of the viewer, the viewer determined the centre of the spectacle at any moment in time. This centre was constantly shifting depending on the viewer’s focus. My image reminded me of this. 

How Baroque-like cyberspace is. We are able to enter various streams, whether they be of words, sounds or images. Each tweet, for example, brings a part of you and your point of view right onto my screen. Your here is brought to my here via the interface of my screen, in itself an electronic stained glass work of art.  I can choose to focus on your tweet, follow its links if they are there, or reflect upon what has been said. I can also skim over it and many others until something in particular captures my attention and focus.

However, unlike in Baroque art, we are connecting in the digital world not with forms and figures on a dome but with real people. The fact that I am able to receive an immediate response to my posting from others all over the world in this polycentric environment adds a collective dimension to the whole event and is bringing about a level of interconnectedness not imagined before.

At one stage I wanted to call this blog “DIgital Baroque”, only to discover that a book by that name already exists! This discovery just added to my musings.  Perhaps all ideas exist enfolded in potential, and at different times and in different places unfold to make themselves known to those who can hear them. 

I have decided to take the edited image above and work with it further in the weeks to come.  I will post the results on Instagram and add them to a gallery on this website. As I live in Dubai in the Middle East I want the resulting edits to reflect the region but to also have a global appeal.  I wish to discover all that this image has to tell me. It is my wish too that the images will encourage viewers to open themselves to new perspectives, hold multiple perspectives simultaneously, shift focus where necessary, drop some of the boundaries that limit their vision, and open themselves to others as well as to creative potential.    

The Gathering

Visiting the Pavilion in Downtown Dubai yesterday, I noticed that there were workers completing the installation of a new sculpture on the sidewalk.

After the installation was completed I went outside to photograph the figures from various angles, before going inside to continue what I was working on. 

As sunset approached the pink fingers stretching across the sky to embrace the Burj Khalifa drew me outside again. The chatting figures of the sculpture seemed happy in their new setting. 

While photographing them a gentleman and lady approached. Seeing me photograph the figures, she told me that the gentleman was the artist. I was privileged to meet architect and sculptor Xavier Corbero. 

A man with incredible vision, Corbero has built a dream home whose spaces are linked by underground passageways.

“His original vision of the property has since expanded to include a retreat for artists, studio spaces, workshops, a foundry, dozens of surreal chambers for residents and guests, sprawling galleries, living rooms, a myriad of hobbit nooks all connected by serpentine stairways filling over 10,000 square meters.”

Salvador Dali was Corbero’s first patron and Corbero is now considered to be Spain’s most important living sculptor. 

"You must leave things open so the person enjoys or looks," says Corbero. "I feel that when people look at a piece of art they become artists, they see what they see not what there is. What there is helps them to see something else and they feel better because they see something they were not seeing before seeing that. That's what I like to do.”

Standing next to his work, he seemed to effortlessly blend in with the figures, even unintentionally perhaps, replicating the pose of the figure he was standing next to.

 

In her piece on Corbero’s work in Beirut, Micheline Hazou, @mich1mich writes,

“Perhaps it’s the way the figures are positioned, in relation to the space and to one another that is as important as their bulk and mass…”

Corbero has said, "What is good is the scale, if you get the scale right, space stops being space to become mind. And this happens in a sculpture and it happens in architecture."

The sculpture, called The Gathering, invites one into its circle. The chatting figures capture for me the mix that is Dubai, a city where  many different nationalities and cultures meet.

The figures lean into each other with attention. They are accommodating of each other’s space and seem to acknowledge the other, while at the same time forming a unit. The energy flowing between them as they connect is almost palpable.

There is the sense that more personalities are about to join the gathering and engage in conversation. This excites me as non-judgmental listening and peaceful dialogue is so crucial in the world right now.

I immediately think too of this here2here space where we are all gathering now. What does it matter where we are physically situated in time and space. We can gather, be present here together, converse and share. We might all be different but we are more similar than we can imagine.

Whether gathering on sidewalks of cities, or sensing our interconnectedness in a large web made possible by technology, together we bear witness to Presence.