Edited by Jim McCrory, Saturday, 25 Jan 2025, 10:49
"Give me neither poverty nor riches"
Proverbs 30:8 (KJV).
Image generated with the assistance of ChatGPT
"I felt once more how simple and frugal a thing is happiness: a glass of wine,
a roast chestnut, a wretched little brazier, the sound of the sea. Nothing else."
Kazantzakis
Scotland has been hit by a devastating storm and my train to London was cancelled. We had to cancel time with friends and other arrangements. It's at times like this I am nostalgic for spring.
In
the cool, quiet hours of spring dawn, the world reveals itself not through grand
gestures but through humble offerings. On the shores of Loch Lomond, where the
gentle lap of the water caresses the pebbles, happiness unfolds in its purest
form. It isn’t clad in opulence nor dressed in the finery of wealth, but in the
simple, earnest garb of nature’s own making.
Proverbs
remind us, "Give me neither poverty nor riches," a plea for the
middle ground where life’s true essence is found—not in the excess of things
but in their meaningfulness. The philosophy that happiness is a "frugal
thing" is timeless, and on a quiet morning by Loch Lomond, it resonates
with profound clarity. A cup of coffee, a humble meal of smoked bacon nestled
in Greek flatbread—these are not mere sustenance, but the ingredients of a
joyful simplicity.
The
Swedish notion of gökotta—rising early to embrace the dawn—complements
this meditative joy. It isn’t just the act of waking but the purpose behind it:
to savour the stillness, to absorb the unfolding day, to celebrate the quiet
majesty of life’s simple pleasures. Here, amidst the symphony of bird song, the
world slumbers on, unaware of the spectacle of the sunrise, the aroma of fresh
coffee, and the warmth of a small fire.
In
this setting, we find a truth as old as time itself—that happiness does not
demand conditions. It thrives under the open sky, grows in the cool breeze of
the morning, and exists wherever we choose to notice it. The rich may travel
the high roads, seeking happiness in noise and speed, but on the low road, by
the soothing tides of Loch Lomond, happiness finds us, unbidden and genuine.
As
we face each day, let us seek not the grandeur of the extraordinary, but the
beauty of the ordinary. For in these moments, as Kazantzakis reminds us, lies
the profound, frugal nature of happiness. Let us cherish the simple and the
serene, for these are the true riches that life affords, free from the burdens
of stress, anxiety, or pain.
Gökotta — The Simple Riches of Dawn
"Give me neither poverty nor riches"
Proverbs 30:8 (KJV).
Image generated with the assistance of ChatGPT
"I felt once more how simple and frugal a thing is happiness: a glass of wine,
a roast chestnut, a wretched little brazier, the sound of the sea. Nothing else."
Kazantzakis
Scotland has been hit by a devastating storm and my train to London was cancelled. We had to cancel time with friends and other arrangements. It's at times like this I am nostalgic for spring.
In the cool, quiet hours of spring dawn, the world reveals itself not through grand gestures but through humble offerings. On the shores of Loch Lomond, where the gentle lap of the water caresses the pebbles, happiness unfolds in its purest form. It isn’t clad in opulence nor dressed in the finery of wealth, but in the simple, earnest garb of nature’s own making.
Proverbs remind us, "Give me neither poverty nor riches," a plea for the middle ground where life’s true essence is found—not in the excess of things but in their meaningfulness. The philosophy that happiness is a "frugal thing" is timeless, and on a quiet morning by Loch Lomond, it resonates with profound clarity. A cup of coffee, a humble meal of smoked bacon nestled in Greek flatbread—these are not mere sustenance, but the ingredients of a joyful simplicity.
The Swedish notion of gökotta—rising early to embrace the dawn—complements this meditative joy. It isn’t just the act of waking but the purpose behind it: to savour the stillness, to absorb the unfolding day, to celebrate the quiet majesty of life’s simple pleasures. Here, amidst the symphony of bird song, the world slumbers on, unaware of the spectacle of the sunrise, the aroma of fresh coffee, and the warmth of a small fire.
In this setting, we find a truth as old as time itself—that happiness does not demand conditions. It thrives under the open sky, grows in the cool breeze of the morning, and exists wherever we choose to notice it. The rich may travel the high roads, seeking happiness in noise and speed, but on the low road, by the soothing tides of Loch Lomond, happiness finds us, unbidden and genuine.
As we face each day, let us seek not the grandeur of the extraordinary, but the beauty of the ordinary. For in these moments, as Kazantzakis reminds us, lies the profound, frugal nature of happiness. Let us cherish the simple and the serene, for these are the true riches that life affords, free from the burdens of stress, anxiety, or pain.