It is a spectacular autumn day in the country, a Saturday bejewled with gleaming sunshine, blue sky and dry air. The fields are clothed in precise rows of burgeoning emerald and mustard coloured crops. We bicycled earlier this morning then recovered briefly on the garden patio in the warmth of the midday sun. I am perched at my drawing board, sipping chilled espresso, listening to what I suspect Apple Music had a hand in, another of Decca Records Releases called a “Classical Crossover” no doubt a conscious inexactness for schmaltz. It is the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra playing Bond 25 with Dolby Atmos and Hi-Res Lossless (whatever they are). But, oh my, the memories! Hollywood (or its British or Welsh equivalent) deserves applause.
Throughout the day I have had percolating strains of the most absorbing recollections, dramatically colourful images of nature, land and sea. As well there have been penetrating crystals of thought identified by clarity, infused with inexplicable but dynamic sentiments, all favourable. It is a euphoria!
Like so many others I replenish the resource of my diminishing existence by reminding myself of the overwhelming wonder of the present. It is an especially fluid task on a day like this when everything is at its peak, the plentitude of creation. There is no recipe for a flawless day but when it occurs it is incomparable. I sympathize with those who are disturbed by lingering regrets, the magnitude of which I cannot guess.
My own perils though at times substantial have no hold upon me. Paramountly I have sought to extract from the past only what nourishes the present. It is an occupation which goes beyond transcendentalism.
Transcendentalism is a system developed by Immanuel Kant, based on the idea that, in order to understand the nature of reality, one must first examine and analyze the reasoning process which governs the nature of experience.
I have for example deliberately “cleansed” my material world as well, those idle manifestations of thought. It is a course akin to abandoning things that no longer fit, preferring to be a gentleman not a gypsy. Some things just have to go! And, yes, on occasion arises the imperative to replenish the stock. Admittedly I dilute or refine the acquisitive process by remembering that less is more. The reward is an unanticipated thrill resembling an uncommonly appetizing Kimchi dumpling! I’m guessing. Life pours forth its sweetener.