In a recent conversation with a colleague where we were talking about trust, forgiveness and other things therapists like to talk about, out of my mouth came a sentence that went something like: “Cultivating awe and respect for nature – and then coming to understand that I was part of the same nature which I so love – has allowed me to finally feel at home in my life”.
In the previous letter I said I would talk today about what happens in the mind and body when we are unable to act in the face of a threat, but, having spent the last hour or so on my social media feed I would like to talk about community, safety and reciprocity instead.
Have you ever wondered why moths and flies behave in this quasi-suicidal way of flying directly into a flame? I have. It turns out that they don’t actually intend to fly into the flame at all: Months and flies have 360 little light tubes in their eyes which they use to navigate with in reference to the vertical light beams from the sun or the moon.
For reasons beyond anyone’s control, we are finding ourselves suddenly faced with the prospect of spending many hours at home. I often day dream about living alone in the the countryside but, importantly, in these day dreams I am always there by choice and never ever is the dream set in my apartment, alone, in Berlin.