It is not that we have a short time to live, but that we waste a lot of it. Life is long enough, and a sufficiently generous amount has been given to us for the highest achievements if it were all well invested. But when it is wasted in heedless luxury and spent on no good activity, we are forced at last by death’s final constraint to realize that it has passed away before we knew it was passing. So it is: we are not given a short life but we make it short, and we are not ill-supplied but wasteful of it… Life is long if you know how to use it.
Lucius Annaeus Seneca (The Younger) c. 4 BC – AD 65, The Shortness of Life (De Brevitate Vitae)
Tacitus’ account of Seneca reports a seeming inconsistence between his moral principles and his lifestyle, although whether Seneca’s choices were such from lack of character or fear (Nero) we can only conject. Despite the accusations of hypocrisy, Seneca’s words carry weight, and continue to do so through time.
Lady terrestris flew past me this morning in all her fluffy majesty, hunting for a place to call home no doubt; the first bumble bee I’ve seen this year. Heralds of spring & summer, pollinator of many, producer of a delicious delicacy, and major player in nature’s hierarchy; the bee is a species we should all be ensuring the life of.
Life isn’t all serious, and my well documented passion for the VW Type 2 is just one example of this. It’s time though for the dub to shuffle sideways a tiny bit (because honestly not much room is needed!) and make room for a sibling.
From the very first wooden framed, single-cylinder Otto-cycle engined, gas powered motorcyle built by Gottlieb Daimler in 1884-85, motorcycling has enthused 2-wheel addicts all over the world; and the Honda Dax is no exception.
As usual of course, I’m not craving one of the newer, more polished versions; instead the original 1969 ST70 is the one that holds me. There has to be some history folks..it’s an unwritten rule!
I’m sure some of those who know me will think I’m mad, but those who know me best will just nod knowingly and smile. I think I’ve fallen the smallest bit in love with this slightly eccentric, Summer-loving machine, and I make no apologies.
Oh, and the post title? Ah, well after my SO showing me a video of a definitively mad Frenchman’s uncondonable street ride; the Nicolas Jaar remix of The Searchers’ original has stuck with me. Although, again as usual, I still prefer the original!
Unembellished by paper or string it sits
beneath a word that should also fly
but for reasons I cannot impart, has not.
Waiting patiently, yet unaffected by the time that consumes it’s maker,
the contents are simple gifts that
at a glance might be dismissed as unimportant.
Yet without magic or mystery,
they symbolise the bestowal of a strong hand and a warm heart;
a voice of reason and support where no other could be heard.
A connection as tangible as any and as elusive as all.
There it sits,
whispering into the days;
willing me to wrap it up with the tender thanks I feel
for having those precious gifts in my life,
and send it on it’s journey.
It bides an unknown time
and if hope were possible inside this existence,
it is here,
in the heart of this small white box,
that it would surely exist.