Repeat

“Repetition doesn't really exist."

I’m not chasing originality anymore.

My #1000Steps project celebrated its 200th image this week and I’ve started to accommodate the idea that not every picture will be novel, different or even conventionally ‘creative.’ In fact, the process is starting to feel work-like and predictable. But, instead of searching for original photos, I’m relaxing into the experience of habit and routine.

And I realise that a different version of change is emerging in the work.

It’s unlikely that I will find the inspiration of ‘Insta-perfect’ glass skyscrapers or tropical beaches on a project that limits me to images made within 1000 steps from the door of my home in a rural English village. Instead, there are repeating images of hedgerows, trees, fields, skies and humble buildings. After all, these are the things that surround me.

Yet, as I calm my inner critic and give up the search for apparent novelty, the process begins to school me in depth. My observations have become more nuanced, sensitive and discerning; when I look at tree blossom over and over again, I really start to look. As I hold my attention on how I experience repetition and similarity, I begin to see variation.

This kind of ritualised process is working in other parts of my life too; regular practices such as morning journaling, disciplined creative effort, daily routines and frameworks applied to my working week paradoxically offer the freedom and space to respond to the exquisitely delicate, weak signals that might herald incipient change.

We understand now that our way of seeing the world is consequential but we still struggle, ecologically, socially and technologically with the unintended impacts of our decision making. We are slow to respond to change, waiting for incontrovertible evidence before we act.

And the delays can become dangerously fateful.

Our new work as leaders is to shift focus; to bring energy and fierce attention to the patient discipline and craft of carefully looking out on the world. If we subscribe to the notion that the only constant is change that is often out of our control, then sensing into minute shifts, before they induce seismic fault lines within the ground upon which we stand, is our best chance.

And the ritual of repetition will let us see that change is happening in every part of our world.

Notes:

Craig Mod talks about the Rigor of Process; how he applies it to his walking practice and how we might ‘unflinchingly engage with the cultural or human geography of a place.’ Have a wander around his website and walk yourself through his Ridgeline, Roden and Huh newsletters.

Over on Twitter, I see that @eberlin is repeatedly looking again at this vista and I have a celebratory moment each time John Sealander’s daily ‘Some Assembly Required’ newsletter drops into my mailbox (Day 4151 and counting…)

As exemplified by Craig Mod’s walking, sometimes this kind of repetitive devotion feels like some kind of pilgrimage. Take a few minutes to watch this lovely film of Maria, whose life’s work is to count the pilgrims on the Camino di Santiago