The view from above

You are in a helicopter looking down on Finsbury Park in London: people are gathered in small groups that are scattered around. You are walking by yourself to observe and absorb what’s happening; you don’t want to be involved. The direction you take is not calculated, it is random. Anything can happen around the corner: perhaps, you will discover a bunch of dying roses or a friend calls you all of a sudden. The walk itself is what you need right now. The movement of your body is aligned with the movement of your thoughts. The memories of the past and imaginative stories of the future are interrupted by the practical ideas of the present moment. You maintain a connection to the land, to this community, to this city, and you want to stay grounded and realistic, but the thick air, cosy clouds and unexpected conversations with strangers tell you that there is so much more that just “right here and right now”, your life stretches beyond the physicality of space you are in. There is something that is reaching out in multiple directions. It’s out of your control.