Rain and time in the caravan

I’m writing this in my caravan, as the rain drums down. Such a safe place to escape and dream. I don’t know what will come of it. I’ve just finished 500 words on Mad Before it was Cool, realised I need to update my own personal website, and re-read some of my old stuff. You know what, it’s not bad. I’m supposed to go to get Kathryn some CBD oil this morning before I get the train back to London. The weather is not good – I might just can it, or see what happens with the weather. If I’m going to go to the shop en route I’ve got to leave really soon, and as the rain drums on the roof and I think about my travel options into Whitstable I definitely don’t feel like doing that.

It’s been a strange time here and I don’t know what I feel like doing. I thought I was just going to chill, but actually I’ve worked quite hard and found it harder to relax here than normal. Now that it’s the last morning and the drops on the roof are telling me that every moment is precious, it’s time to take advantage, so seize and to squeeze this last remaining time. I suppose the drumming on the roof of the raindrops is like individual moments, like the chance and chaos of each second by second experience, and in here I get the safety and just the sound of the rain, meaning that I’ve pretty much made up my mind I’m going to stay put and listen to the drumming.

I was talking with some friends about plans – specifically about the role of God’s plan in our lives. It raised that knotty problem of chance and predestination, which is I suppose has been part of the background to my stay here. Shall I try and embrace this moment, shall I just go with it, and see where the moment takes me, or shall I try and work on the big picture. It’s been a transitional time being at the caravan. I’ve been following my gut for some time now and now I have to take the micro moments that I’ve made doing that and turn them into something bigger.

What I said in the conversation about chance as opposed to predestination was to recount this amazing documentary that I saw on BBC in the 90’s. I’ve looked for it ever since. I’ve even contacted the BBC to go through their archives. No luck. The documentary was about time. It began with the medieval idea of time, implacable eternity held in tension against micro moments of seasons, chance and coincidence. It ended with 21st century physics and the ideas of time it has led us to – implacable predestined theory of relativity time, versus chaos theory and quantum time. We haven’t come so far as we think, we’ve more come full circle. God bless the BBC and the talented film maker who came up with this documentary for fitting all this into an action packed hour.

Einstein’s theory of relativity and its logical conclusion is that there is no such thing as chance. That our lives are utterly predestined. Quantum or chaos theory is quite the reverse. An electron can be in two places at once, and when you observe it, it changes the outcome. Everything is utter chance, random. What scientists are looking for now, apparently, is a way to reconcile these two theories, which will create a kind of four dimensional look at time. When we do that, the film ended we will have seen ‘the mind of God’. It stuck with me. I told it to my friends. It’s still sticking with me now.

I’m in my caravan trying to listen to the rain, trying to be in the moment, loving the encouragement I’m getting from our amazing group #mentalhealthartists and all the things that are coming out of this time of listening. I’ve been following, accepting the chances, making connections and new relationships as they occur to me. At some point now there’s going to be a circling back to join the dots. There will be a plan. Maybe the person doing the planning doesn’t have to be me, maybe it does. This web of material has to somehow translate into a business plan, and a spreadsheet and a pitch deck. It also has to breathe and accept that I don’t have all the answers, and if I did, I wouldn’t be writing them down in the first place, I’d just be off doing them one by one, or they’d already be done, and how boring would that be.

No, this isn’t about arriving at a destination, it’s about working a problem out in time. It’s about the growth that I can make as I learn to listen, to trust. The thunder is booming now, and the music just wavered as my phone buzzed. I’m listening, I’m here.

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