Scooter in the Sticks

Exploring life on a Vespa Scooter and Royal Enfield Himalayan motorcycle.

Words of Reflection

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Christmas wreath hanging in Saint's Cafe in State College, PA.
A wreath in the window of Saint’s Cafe.

Quiet Moments

My dog Junior is lying at my feet. The sound of a soft exhale of breath as he prepares to descend into sleep. The ceiling is splashed with green and red lights from the laser projector outside which paints our house in a festive sparkle and shoots through the livingroom window to add the effect indoors. The room, and myself, are quiet. A fine time to write a few words of reflection.

I’m tired, a soft ache through most of my body, a result of the head cold which insistently pushes me toward the bed and the gentle escape of sleep. But first I wanted to tap a few words of reflection

Sitting here now, a cup of tea and a few ginger cookies to provide emergency fuel, I recognize the satisfaction and serenity of this moment. And of the gratitude I feel for this life. Perhaps the Christmas season continues to work on head and heart.

Norman Vincent Peale, author of the Power of Positive Thinking, once commented on the power of the season, “Christmas waves a magic wand over this world, and behold, everything is softer and more beautiful.”

I can’t disagree. I remain under the influence of its magic. Wandering through State College, Pennsylvania, I see icons of the holiday season. The wreath in the window of Saint’s Cafe reminds me of how many things, great and small, for which to be grateful.

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Choose Your Own Way

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Vespa scooter on a gray day.
A pause during a ride on a gray morning in a lush world. So much rain lately. No matter how you might feel, you can choose your own way to thing about it.

A Gray World

Yesterday morning, just before venturing out on the Vespa into a gray world, I came across a quote by Viktor Frankl.

“The last of human freedoms — to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s way.”

The words stuck with me as I pushed the scooter into the driveway.

Choose your own way.

Something was bothering me. Might have been a conversation earlier in the week with Kim’s neurosurgeon, or perhaps puzzling over investment in an index fund or something more aggressive. It may have simply been the threat of rain when I wanted to ride. The idea that I could choose my attitude as I prepared to ride wouldn’t have occurred to me had I not read Frankl’s words.

By the time I was on the road things had changed. Riding didn’t change me but it did open a door, permitted a mental transformation from being awash in anxiety to sailing in a sea of gratitude. It may have been a fake, false, contrived idea in my head, but after a few miles on the Vespa, I was a different man.

I felt the familiar lust for life.

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Les Misérables

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Steve Williams self-portrait of him being illPortrait of Illness

First, I want to extend my apologies to Victor Hugo for borrowing his title for this post.  And more importantly, acknowledge that any suffering or illness I’m currently enduring is insignificant to that of millions of people.  Most of my problems in life definitely fall into the category of “First World Problems.”  Things like being driven crazy by having to enter “English” as my language choice every time I use the ATM.  Or the tremendous annoyance of the awful sound the credit card reader makes when it wants me to remove my card from the chip reader.  Or the current virus I’m now enduring that makes me tired, sore and miserable.

First world problems.

My wife asked me how I was feeling on Friday.  I took out my iPhone and made a self-portrait and sent it to her.  She felt responsible because she had already be struck with the same illness for two weeks with no sign of letting up for either of us.

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The Ride Lingers in the Mind

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Vespa GTS scooter on a muddy forest roadBecoming One With the World

Strange how I often find myself writing in the middle of the night. House quiet, dogs asleep and my head turning over thoughts from a ride earlier in the day. Sometimes the ride stays with me beyond the road, the ride lingers in the mind where it ceases to be about the physical actions on the scooter, but rather part of a tiny myth, a figment of imagination that creates a story about myself and my life.

I left the house late this afternoon with three goals — return a book to the library, deposit a check at the bank, and apply the riding salve to a viral infection of the sinuses that threatens perception of life. The road led me into the mountains, the scooter tires oozing in places on a skin of limestone mud, and I could feel my world preoccupations slowly fall away.

Now at 3:30am I’m still thinking of that ride. Sinuses completely blocked with crud, nine hours remaining before I can take more Zyrtec, my mind lingers on that ride. The cold air draining my head. The feelings of old age and decrepitude that an illness can generate stripped away as I for a few moments became one with the world.

Riding can do that if you let it.
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Reflections on Christmas

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Vespa GTS scooter with Christmas lightsA Vespa Christmas

Christmas Day has come and is nearly gone.  Family has gathered, presents opened, friends encountered and the house is once again quiet.  A fine time for reflections on Christmas.

Before wandering off I want to extend to each of you hopes for a Merry Christmas and some wonderful times leading up to the new year.

As darkness came I made this photograph of the Vespa amidst the colored lights.  A fine way to end its day.

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