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Slow train coming

  The space is pervaded with green, with the chirping of birds and the sweet smell of pollen. We are in the countryside of Dordogne, and it would be difficult for anyone to find a more idyllic setting. In general, I try not to read the news, especially here, but whenever I do, that idyllic image is replaced by another one: the slow train, picking up speed downhill. The machine engineers are incompetent and instead of stopping it and repairing the faults with care, they keep on loading it with coal. Its lights are on in the darkness; they illuminate only the small patch in front, so the passengers could see the end, but only in a fashion.  Why are we in a such a hurry to destroy our civilisation? Do we have so much that we are bored with it? There was this boredom in the air before the epidemic in 2020. I had the feeling that people, especially the young ones, were waiting eagerly for something to happen. Anything. Just not that day after day boredom. They were trying to shake it off –

Meditation on Greatness


Marcus Aurelius Antonius, a Sage and an Emperor of Rome - two incompatible roles for a mere human - wrote this:

"Sure, life is a small thing, and small the cranny of the earth in which we live it: small too even for the longest fame thereafter, which is itself a subject to a succession of little men, who will quickly die, and have no knowledge of themselves, let alone of those long dead."

Meditations, Book 3,10


  1. Without a lineage of wisdom, stretching afore and aft of a great Sage, what indeed is its measure and its opportunity to infuse the present...?


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