Cras

Have you ever wondered what is the difference between now and tomorrow? It’s not just twenty-four more hours. It’s not a petulant child’s cheeky “Tomorrow never comes” answerback to a task promised but never delivered. It’s the infinite scope for change. The endless potential of what might be. The paradox of tomorrow’s indeterminate possibilities is that they all begin with now. The choices I make now, walk or ride, my next step, deciding to be nicer to people, letting loose that sarcastic jibe, scribbling this article, they all determines my future. 

Leo Sayer sang "Tomorrow is the first day of the rest of your life”. This is procrastination. There is only one point in time that change can happen, that is now. Could I change my life tomorrow? Possibly. But, if really want to change my future, that change starts immediately. If the future is mutable and now is when change happens, then what of the that which has already occurred? The past has a vital place in our lives, it acts as a guide. Prior experiences provide the basis for current judgments, actions, reactions and outcomes. Being cognisant of the past and being aware of how it effects us in the present allows us to make a conscious choice about what happens next, about change.

Sometimes, though, the path to tomorrow is outside our conscious control. A relative dies and leaves an unexpected fortune, you boarded the wrong London bus on the 7th July 2005 or a myriad other events beyond calculation or prediction. But, having arrived at an unexpected future, how we adapt to it certainly can be within our influence.

If the only certainly in life is change. The corollary is skilfully summed up in Reinhold Niebuhr’s 'Serenity Prayer' 

"God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,

The courage to change the things I can,

And the wisdom to know the difference."

A bit religious for my taste - but the essence, even in my secular world, holds an inescapable truth. Finally, lest there be any misapprehension that I have achieved a state of self awareness that would allow me to manage change in a sane & sensible fashion I quote my old Latin master who quipped “Today’s Latin scholar is tomorrow’s crass idiot”. He was a man with a fine eye for a pun and a solid pragmatism.

If You Can’t Stand the Heat

It’s been pretty warm here in the UK of late. On 1st July, we exceeded the previous warmest day on record reaching 36.7 °C (98.1°F). So, it was probably not my smartest decision to venture out on the bike for my daily commute in black heavyweight leathers. The ride in, early enough to be ahead of the heat,  just about tolerable even in traffic. Roads dry, warm and debris free so I was able to corner at speed. Quite a fun start to the journey. The latter half, picking a path on my bulky GSA through queuing traffic was less amusing. 

But the trip back, a different matter entirely. From the start, cars and trucks clogged routes. No easy way through at sufficient velocity to feel stable which necessitated paddling the bike through opposing wing mirrors. I may have mentioned that the handlebars and mirrors on the GSA are wider than the average bike, and higher. This combination is a pain in the proverbial now that the majority of vehicles appear to be either SUV, taxi, or man in a van. Swaying and twisting 250Kgs on tiptoes is a tedious means of making progress.

Thirty seconds after leaving the office I'd broken into a sweat. By the time I had reached the first set of lights I was overheating. A glance at the stationary traffic almost convinced me that air-conditioned transport, though it might be slower, could have some advantages. Reaching the Blackwall Tunnel took a further 20 tortuous minutes. Road junction? Red light. Empty pedestrian crossing? Red light.  I began to wonder, had I developed a perverse telekinetic power?

If I was expecting the traffic would be lighter once I was through the tunnel I was dismally wrong. Those expectations proved to be off the scale optimistic. Two lanes of slow moving tunnel opened out to three lanes of stutteringly stationary vehicles. Paranoia sets in, is it too much to ask that drivers don’t hog the white lines? Surely a deliberate ploy to prevent even motorcyclists from making progress. “If I can't move then neither will you!”. Progress is slower than slow and I start to feel perspiration pooling in my boots, putting a new perspective on paddling. Wonder how much wear I’m putting on my clutch? Grrrrr! Just to put myself in abetter frame of mind I consider alternative modes of getting back. Car? I’m passing plenty those even at these speeds. Tube & train? If it’s hot out here, wonder what it’s like down there packed close with sweaty bodies. Perhaps the train would be tolerable, but the tube …. that’s not an experience I’d relish.

At last, space! Out of first gear and making enough progress to make it worth lifting my boots back onto the pegs. An hour later, arriving back, I have to peel myself, squelching, from my portable sauna. I decide that sometimes there can be too much of a good thing, and today was definitely those few °C too far.