The Call of Viva

It's like the call of the wild....there's some kind of pull that this tiny, cozy little bar has. It's difficult to determine what exactly makes it so endearing - the blue gauzy curtains in the front windows pulled back like in a living room, the ever present drone of football on the big screen telly, the black couch and coffee table that are ignored in favor of the hightop tables holding pints of beer, the owner, Salem, who gives everyone a handshake or a double-cheek-kiss upon entering, or maybe the amazing photographs that line the walls - portraits taken by frequent patron and friend Benj, photos that capture London and the life that it engenders, or maybe it's the people who gather at this watering hole, the eclectic mix of south Londoners who remember your name and welcome you enthusiastically into their small but generous football haven. Whatever it is about the Viva, I'm glad I've found it.

And last night - the place, the people, and the conversation did not disappoint. I'm such a regular now that Salem has my glass of white wine waiting on the bar before I've taken off my coat. And wine I did enjoy last night...making it a very late night with some hilarious moments of trying to learn how to play poker - in preparation for a standing invitation this Friday for dinner and a rugby match followed by a game of poker with a group of friends. I have a suspicion that I may just be a poker whiz. :)

Today the sun was in an out - it was a reflective kind of day, and Kahlil Gibran's "The Prophet" was my companion. My favorite passage of the day....

Time
And an astronomer said, Master, what of Time?
And he answered:
You would measure time the measureless and the immeasurable.
You would adjust your conduct and even direct the course of your spirit according to hours and seasons.
Of time you would make a stream upon whose bank you would sit and watch its flowing.

Yet the timeless in you is aware of life's timelessness,
And knows that yesterday is but today's memory and tomorrow is today's dream.
And that that which sings and contemplates in you
is still dwelling within the bounds of that first moment which scattered the stars into space.
Who among you does not feel that his power to love is boundless?
And yet who does not feel that very love, though boundless, encompassed within the centre of his being,
and moving not from love thought to love thought, nor from love deeds to other love deeds?
And is not time even as love is, undivided and paceless?
But if in your thought you must measure time into seasons, let each season encircle all the other seasons,
And let today embrace the past with remembrance and the future with longing.