Living in a Tinderbox.

"I wonder when this would happen again. Now I watch the red line, reach that number again. The blood in our veins and the brains in our heads..." 92 Degrees - Siouxsie & The Banshees - Tinderbox - 1986.

It's been about four weeks since my last article, and I'm not quite ready to jump into the next one yet. So, for now, a little touchdown.

It's August, and the UK feels like a tinderbox. Heat, drought, wildfires.

Earthquakes in other parts of the world. Wars - Political upheaval, unrest and uncertainty.

Even the weather seems to be asking us to pay attention.

Working in an air-conditioned office in the City certainly has its advantages. But getting there? That's another story. 😅 The commute in this heat can be brutal.

We recently had a partial eclipse too, a little reminder that while we're busy with our calendars, emails, deadlines and commuting, there's a much bigger system moving around us. And that's what I've been thinking about.

We are not separate from our environment.

Our bodies are ecosystems.

We breathe the same air. We regulate temperature. We respond to light, darkness, seasons, stress and change. We might spend our working day in a perfectly controlled 20-degree office, but step outside and suddenly the body remembers: we're part of nature.

Nature doesn't negotiate with our beliefs.

It does what nature does.

Cycles come and go. Conditions change. Systems become unstable when pressure builds. Sometimes the warning signs are subtle. Sometimes they're impossible to ignore.

We've been here before. History, geology and nature all remind us that cycles can return—and sometimes become more intense when conditions are allowed to build.

I'm not writing this to frighten anyone. Quite the opposite.

I'm interested in awareness.

What are we noticing?

What are we bringing into the world around us?

Me? Well, I've noticed something about myself lately:

My dislexia is worsen and I've been swearing... A lot! 😂

Believe me, a lot has happened to me lately, but I have no particular reason for the amount of dirty words that have been flying out of my mouth.

They just seem to slip out like little darts... Keep it professional Serge... 😂

Which made me laugh when I started reading The Outward Path: The Wisdom of the Aztecs by Sebastian Purcell. One of the ideas I'm enjoying in the book is the practice of using kinder, more deliberate words as a way of changing how we interact with the environment around us - Maybe the pursuit of happiness isn't really the point.

Life is going to throw things at us. Good things, difficult things, things we choose and things we absolutely don't.

Perhaps the work isn't to spend our lives trying to be happy, but to learn how to navigate change, to develop the ability to meet life as it comes without being completely knocked off course by it.

It got me thinking: what exactly are we (I am) putting into the environment we're living in?

Maybe awareness starts with something as simple as noticing the words coming out of our own mouths.

How are we responding to the conditions we're living through?

We can't control the weather, earthquakes, wars - politics or the behaviour of the planet.

But we can pay attention to how we inhabit our own little corner of it.

Perhaps that's part of the work too.

Noticing when the environment becomes a little too hot.

Noticing when the body becomes tense.

Noticing when we're holding our breath.

Noticing when something inside us is asking for a change.

The world outside is giving us plenty to notice at the moment.

I'll be taking a little more time before the next article, and I'll probably be quieter here until September - you know how to find me.

For now, stay cool, stay curious, and look after your little ecosystem.

See you in September.

Kindly - Sergio.

Norton Bodywork