It irks me to read an advertisement for those seeking an exceptional life – especially in Country Life magazine! For one thing it is exceptionally bad poetry. What in the world does it mean anyway – an exceptional life! Exceptionally what? And to whom exactly are the retailers directing their product? Isn’t life exceptional enough already? If it isn’t, do they really think they have the elixir to make it so? How exactly do they intend to reach the apogee? I dread to speculate what they imagine those fleeting ingredients may be. I’m sorry, but if you haven’t figured it out yet, the buzz of Acts 1 – 6 in this drama we call life only gets better! And we’re not relying upon storehouse commodities.

As I rediscover my inherent buoyancy it naturally makes me question whether there is anything singular about it or whether each of us shares the same general opinion. I am inclined to believe we do. It isn’t as though we haven’t encountered misfortune. What lingers throughout is the spirited belief that life is good. It is life’s natural insulation from a defeating ambition.

Perhaps therein lies the grit of the matter: ambition.  If you haven’t any ambition – or, worse yet, if you do but you’re unprepared to work for it – you’re doomed in any event with or without someone offering you an exceptional life. The thing about capital is to know how to use it – including not to underestimate its value and potential.

“Salt is born of the purest parents: the sun and the sea.”
Pythagoras

Elemental components speak to me. While this scope might initially suggest a limitation to so-called “natural” products I include in this preference what of any description ranks as quality – certain fabrics like Speedo swimming synthetics, some plastics like imitation wood or bone (used for pocket knives for example), Moissanite stones and my latest twist plant-based meat. Maldon sea salt flakes still count too!

Though some may be tempted to call out my conviction about the exceptional quality of life, I invite them to ask themselves whether they’re prepared to switch places with anyone in particular? The currency of affairs is never a clue to the future. And as we have learned during the Covid-19 pandemic, no one is spared the consequence of change.

The alternatives of self-expression are various and inviting. I don’t need a boat to sail. I don’t need a mansion to live like a king. I don’t need to travel the world to see it. But some things I do need to do.  These imperatives constitute my hobbies – the term used to describe what passes as work after retirement.  At this latter stage of life I have exhausted many of the more pioneering desires. So just because you can tackle things with more gusto than I prefer to do, this doesn’t mean I have relinquished an exceptional life. Becoming naturally languished for example only promotes the treasure of an afternoon nap.