The Budget of my Memory

When bicycling today I broadly recalled the people I have known. It revealed a homogenous though narrow conglomerate. I am evidently counted among those of kindred features. Though the ingredients are inescapable, the alliances are not. The separation of oil and water persists no matter the scope. Luckily for me I enjoy both oil and water but I acknowledge the distinction, the preservation of which is critical to sustain buoyancy.  Part of the resilience is truncation of memory. Commemoration of the past can become as fanciful as daydreaming about the future, both of which risk contaminating the present.

Quite unexpectedly I have eclipsed the temporal fictions of the past and the present. As I remarked to acquaintances the other day, things simply couldn't be better.  I say this without equivocation and without apology for its directness. Indeed I am of a mind that to portray my circumstances as other other than marvellous would be irresponsible.

This generous observation - laden as it is with unrepentant complacency - may sound as though it uncharitably excludes the events of the past and narrows the scope of the future. Certainly there is an element of truth therein. I prefer however to view the transcendentalism as an evolution rather than an alteration, the thrust of which is to emphasize the improvement not merely the change.  Historically I am incapable of monitoring much beyond the immediate view.  In this instance it is a fortuitous handicap. I am to the point of relinquishing censure of any amplitude in order to avoid befouling the present. What for example exceeds this afternoon's idleness by the sea, practically the only one on the beach other than a sunbather more than a hundred yards away,  listening to the hissing of the silver sand and the washing of the waves on the shore. Though it was cool (I wore a sweater) the radiant sun tingled on my face and legs.