Wandering Through the Woods on a Vespa
Not everything here is about riding. It’s a means to an end. I’m never sure what I’ll discover on the road.
A dozen personal journals found their way to the landfill. Years of thought and complaint vomited on the page. Memories suspended in ink on hundreds of pages of paper. Free now of the weight of their presence.
Riding the Vespa scooter earlier in the day after an appointment with my cardiologist; wandering in mind and body and thinking of the past.
Wondering about the future.
The cool, autumn air keeps me bright and awake as it seeps across my skin. A sure sign of sloppy preparation and attention to detail — typical of early cold season riding.
The doctor swept the past aside as we talked about the future — medication, exercise, diet and lifestyle, the magic mix that increases the odds for healthy years ahead. Only my own thoughts keep me oppressed by the past. In this case — a heart attack.
Those discarded journals had their own power to oppress just as beliefs and assumptions and physical possessions can. It’s easy to become chained and weighed down without even realizing the ponderous load being dragged along. Slowly I’m working to free myself so I can experience more fully what’s right in front of me.
Riding the scooter through the woods is an exercise in simplicity. It expects nothing from me save for the basic skills required to safely operate. In that simple act is the space to observe chains and baggage, and hear the seductive song that softly winds through them. It’s the rare ride where I return home with no education.
Shimmering Leaves
Standing on the road admiring the autumn leaves that shimmer in the present I understand why I’m having so much trouble cleaning things up — not just old journals but mountains of prints and negatives from decades old assignments, magazines and books, mementos of past glories, and myriad other stuff that I’ve not looked at in decades. Their soaked with the power of the past and whisper of their importance.
I understand now they just get in the way of living today.
Scooter Meditation
I’ve struggled for decades with meditation — a fleeting bird that I cannot identify or capture. Always reaching for that quiet space where I may find myself for a moment. And then the Vespa appeared. Clean, quiet, simple. And with no past.
Riding conjures an unexpected gift — the quiet state I had pursued with meditation. Riding the scooter faithfully drains away the noise and confusion that stand between me and some understanding of what’s going on in my life now. What I should be doing now. The fact that it’s fun is just icing on the cake.
Cafe Reflections
I wonder sometimes if I ride solely as an excuse to be alone with my thoughts. Or find myself sitting with a cup of tea and scratching a few ideas on paper before they vanish in the noise. Honoring the past but firmly committed to the present and not allowing myself to be oppressed by the past. Especially as it’s represented in physical items and possessions.
Feels good to let go.
Brilliant thoughts, Steve. We all know how much we are shaped by our past experiences – it takes a determined effort to break free of that. But I had never really considered how much the physical possessions from our past remind us of good and (often) bad times, help to keep us tied to the past, and inhibit our ability to live for and get the most out of today. Thank-you for planting that seed in my mind. I will ponder it while I am riding my Vespa tomorrow. And perhaps then I will feel happier about chucking out some of the old stuff that goes back nearly 50 years to my school-days. Good and bad, very little of it is relevant now. Except the books and music; they are my escape!
It’s kind of shocking how connected I can get to things just because they were part of my past yet have no use or value in how I live today. I had a mountain of personal papers when I retired — memos of congratulations or appreciation, awards, grants, and on and on. It was liberating to finally get rid of something that had been piling up during my career.
The real gift in parting with stuff is the freedom of movement and care that results — not tripping over anything and don’t have to clean or attend as much. So I can focus on today.
We’re all different in what has value and what doesn’t, but it’s a gift to have the space to think about it. And THAT is where the Vespa has been great!
Good luck in your own adventures!
Steve: you could call this current posting “Clean Your Personal House.”
Some of us realize we are on the downhill slope of life;and when that realization hits home, you also know it is time to clear the detriments of your past!
You have had two major recent events in your life: heart attack solved with a stent and retirement. With retirement you realize or others make you realize the “stuff”
you’ve accumulated to date often means very little to you.
Time to dispose of same.
I would shred (get a heavy duty shredder from Staples) all the un-needed paperwork, and
noted your journals of the past are no longer taking space on a shelf
In my own world have been selling my vast collection of colour slides of railway transportation through friends stateside who do this for a living. Sold most of my transportation related hardcovers books a while back. As you know sold all my camera gear (and found a good clean Canon G15 in my travels).
You have a future now, it does not involve the past although your daughter and now grandchild reinforces your history of family.
Is the Vespa your past as well? Maybe however why change unless some calamity
happens to the two wheeler.
Otherwise carry on McDuff!
We’ve worn out two shredders over the past few years. Going to investigate a shredding service today. Nearly done with paper though. On to tools and left over lumber soon…
The Vespa is part of the present and hopefully the future for some years yet. It’s my mobile meditation cushion.
I don’t have a lot of slides but I’ve considered having them all scanned. At least the ones I want to keep. Prices for scanning has dropped and it’s a workable solution. Don’t have a slide projector anymore so they really are stranded.
Onward!
I hear so many people talking about the past. “In 1973 when I was the regional manager to xyz……” “In 1985 I won the award for the most………” When, what really matters is today.
I saw an interview with a famous person years ago. The interviewer asked where all the trophies and plaques and other awards were. He said they were in a storage unit down the road. They were not even in his house, which was very large. His philosophy was “that is the past”. “To many people spend too much time looking back. All that stuff is what is behind me. I concentrate on what is in front of me. The future is more important than the past.” The statement over 40 years ago has stuck with me all my life. I have no ego wall or awards hanging around. I cherish the memories but concentrating on now and the future has served me well through life. Some people need that past to validate their today. That is not for me. I try to always be looking over the handlebars and down the road to what turn comes next.
I hope to get to the place where you are. Intellectually I understand. Putting it into practice is a bit more challenging. But I can see that clear road ahead.
Just last night I threw away all the awards and certificates of achievement I got from Penn State. All I’ve kept is a small statue of the Nittany Lion. It sits on my writing desk as a reminder of the time I was there. Funny thing, already my decades at Penn State is fading. What’s bright is thoughts of my next ride. That’s a good thing.
Thanks for commenting Ken. I really do appreciate your thoughts.
I find that as I age in the higher years and, being brutally honest, the feeling of not being relevant anymore,I have to fight the urge to make a ego wall to mentally remind me who I was. My life style kept me from having much “stuff”. Living years out of suitcase and the only residence was another hotel, and years living on a small boat did not allow for “stuff”. Now with a house “stuff” has creeped back into my life. A lot of it is attributed to my wife but that is ok. Tearing down the garage created a great opportunity to depose of stuff. I am again on a mission to clear out. Don’t throw the memories though. Find some way to keep those alive.
The good part about getting old is we are now invisible so we can stare at anything we want. Be it a beautiful young women or a DiVinci painting of a Vespa. Nobody see’s us anyway.
I’ve been warned of a loss of identity when retiring and the onset of invisibility. I’ve sensed the possibility but haven’t seen it directly yet. I’ve always felt invisible. Others have suggested I can present a “scary” persona. That was 25 years ago though. I’ve never understood that.
For me, the jury is still out on getting old. Physically it isn’t so great. We’ll see about the rest.
I’ve watched your construction project on the ModernVespa forum. I assumed you would be adding more stuff. Better stuff! New memories.
As far as memories go — they’re precious. Even the bad ones. I plan to hold on to them as long as possible.
Steve,
I think you wrote this last blog for me without realizing it. Currently in the process of selling our big cabin and downsizing to a smaller one, the wife and I are amazed at the “stuff” we have accumulated over the years that bogs us down. Time to simplify and ride the scooter more. Look out the windscreen more and into the mirrors less, the road lies ahead as well as behind, but ahead is where we are going.
In the scheme of time life is indeed short, I feel I have squandered much of mine. De-cluttering my life and riding more is the goal.
Thanks for sharing your experiences with us Steve.
It is amazing how much can be accumulated in a short time. Especially those events where families pass things on and you can’t, or don’t say “No thanks.” The task to get rid of things is daunting.
I know I feel better in a spartan space. Both mind and body can move freely without stumbling over the need to deal with and care for stuff. And from that space comes more riding and living. We have the same goal. Let’s see how things work out in that regard.
Thanks for sharing your thoughts on this topic. I do appreciate them. And good luck with the new cabin!
I’ve tried journaling, back in the day, my life proved quite uninteresting…even to me. I wonder, when I look back on my blog postings years from now, what I will think of my choices then.
As to the title of your post….it reminded me of a saying: we are possessed by our possessions. I started reading thinking you were going to talk about simplifying your life by ridding yourself of accumulated stuff…the stuff you’re trying to get rid of is rather a different and more complicated set of possessors.
I think the stories and information gathered during regular journaling would always be uninteresting save for the occasional adventure or unique situation. For me journaling is an exercise in mental meditation. Quiets the mind. Much like riding. What I write really isn’t important.
I’ll be getting to the physical possessions. I want to quit tripping over things. Especially in the basement and garage. So much stuff that just gets pushed around and never used…
(Press “like” button) Meaning, I understand, agree.
Haven’t gotten to a like button yet.
Steve; another profound post from you. I must say there is a definite trend in our culture to espouse downsizing or “minimalism”, as it is often called now. It has been helpful to me to get rid of a lot of stuff, including remnants of my 3+ decade career.
But I hope to proceed with moderation in this area, especially “mental moderation”. A wise religious friend recently remarked to me that “we live life forward but understand it backwards.” In other words, we don’t always know why we are experiencing things we are going through, but in time we will.
It seems to me we sometimes need to look back to gain perspective on the present.
So yes, by all means get rid of the “stuff” that is no longer used, but hang onto what it taught you.
Thanks for the kind words about the post.
I agree with the notion of understanding things backwards. Looking for the line between understanding and enslavement. I suspect it will be a life long process. The physical remnants are another matter. Simplification and minimalism is a path I’m exploring. Just as an empty road offers a sense of freedom, I think the same thing occurs in a living space to some degree. We’ll see.
My wife and I are such different people. When I unclutter, she fills the empty spaces. Everything ever so small is a touchstone. For me the past is something to be learned from, I don’t spend a lot of time in it. For her The past is like a ghost that wont leave her alone. A place that is lived in and cast a fog over the present.
This weekends ride was the first in I don’t know how long that was spent enjoying the ride not spent working out problems, real or imagined . It was bliss.
It’s great to be on a ride where there’s nothing to work out. That bliss doesn’t occur nearly enough for me. I’m working toward it though.
A past like a ghost is pretty common I suspect. Easy to understand how memories associated with things can pull a fog over everything. And hard to separate from reality.
The only flaw I see in throwing away your past at this time is the stimulus they might provide if you are writing a book. Just looking at an object could trigger a memory of a pivotal event in your life. Think of it as “The Ghost of Vespa Past”.
Of course living in the present is also important but even the present becomes the past in an instant.
I’ve had more than a few concerns about throwing journals away and losing memories or details that I might want to use. I’ve been a bit selective about what I’ve tossed. And I don’t plan to get rid of everything. At least not yet.
Beginning work on a Scooter in the Sticks book now. We’ll see how often I have to return to old journals.
When I feel the weight of the past it’s telling me something. The weight seems to come from something I am thinking about. An experience from the past. The message is that there is no past. When I realize that, there’s a feeling of peace because the weight lifts. The past doesn’t move forward into the present. That’s an illusion. Oh oh, I forgot what my point was. Oh yes the discarded journals… The journals are an object for the mind like that idea of past. Steve says, “Slowly I’m working to free myself so I can experience more fully what’s right in front of me.” That’s the attraction of scooter riding right? You feel free.
At times riding provides that feeling of freedom. More often it delivers joy — a reminder that I’m alive in the world. Most common though is that it focuses the mind from it’s normal shifting around so that I can think a bit more clearly. Maybe that’s freedom. Not sure.
I would say that the last twenty years of my life have been spent – partly by desire, partly by necessity – seriously separating the proverbial wheat from the chaff, in terms of accumulated “stuff.” I wasn’t coming at it from a quasi-ascetic POV; I like having certain stuff around, but I was becoming at least a bit more discerning over what seemed important in the short term over what came to be truly valuable in the long term. Cosmically speaking, of course, it’s all just stuff. And, reiterating your point, choosing to let go of at least a portion of it can be quite liberating.
Someone I worked for some years back gave me an interesting formula to use when I was moving to a new apartment, regarding all my boxes of assorted things I hadn’t gotten to opening since my last move: “If you haven’t opened it in at least two years, you truly don’t need it.” I’d long ago made a vow not to rent storage space for anything before undergoing a good healthy purge. So far, my personal photo archive (gradually being scanned by Y.T.), record collection, and a tight core of books have made the cut. Lots of other stuff got tossed. Ironically, I now have far more storage space than I’ve ver had, but somehow I’m holding the line.
And, of course, as long as you’re still breathing, you’ll find yourself picking up a bit more stuff here and there. Oh, yes, you will.
The two year rule has its limitations. Sometimes there are things that don’t get used often but when you need them they’re useful. Many in my tool world. It’s a good place to begin though. Have a lot of perfectly good stuff that hasn’t moved in 20 years — Coleman stove and lantern is one. Brand new practically. For emergency use. What do I do with stuff like that. I do know what to do with a giant box of tractor feed printer paper. How did I manage to keep that…
I hope to get a a far more spartan collection of stuff. And a more extreme evaluation of things before I decide to take them on. No more gizmos for instance…
I was out riding yesterday and thought “this is all I want to do”. I immediately put it out of my mind as “impractical”. But it’s still there. I think a really good question to try and answer is “what would I do if someone gave me a billion dollars?” ….ie never had to be concerned about money again. “Just ride” would be my answer. Doesn’t sound like it would be enough but it actually would be. For me.
I think the real challenge to riding all the time — money aside — would be family and friends. It would likely take a selfish act to ride all the time. If you’re unencumbered in that regard it would be a lot easier. Perhaps most of those who do have that life don’t have kids and spouses to worry about.
Still, it’s possible to fit a lot of riding into a life and still have a family. And if the family rides — great luck!