Winds Of Time

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As you can imagine, returning to normal office city life after being out there on the front line is quite a strange experience. It’s is both strangely difficult and worryingly easy to adapt back into this world. When you are confronting it, when you are considering it directly, when you are staring down the barrel of it, then it becomes visceral, it becomes jarring, it becomes real. But most of the time, as with all things, you’re not staring down the barrel all the time, you’re not directly confronting anything most of the time. You’re just doing those little tasks tasks that every day requires, you get into a routine and the days just past. Then perhaps when you go to bed you have a moment where you forget your day a little and get an opportunity to reflect, to remember other moments you’ve lied in bed after a day that maybe had been completely different to this one. These bed moments you don’t really remember, but have experienced enough times to imagine. In these moments you can reflect, reflect on just how much your life has changed. But before you can dwell on all that for too long, you sleep, and the winds of time blow you forward once more.

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Sometimes these little moments of reflection can come at the least expected of times. I was doing some work recently which involved visiting a few factories including one that made massive industrial fans (http://www.beatson.co.uk/). The factory was full of the sound of these whirring fans, their blades cutting through the processed air smoothly and rhythmically. Listening to this sound took my straight back to the sound of helicopter blades spinning behind my head as gripped my camera and my head and ran into a new country, a new war zone, a new life. I don’t have anything nearing PTSD, but I had to take a moment in that factory to gather my sorts and reflect for a moment and gather my thoughts, because after the life I used to lead and the massive change I’ve been through, I’ve got a lot of thoughts to gather…