we ate in a tiny old wild west town where they served our drinks in glasses shaped like cowboy boots. they brought me a side of mashed potatoes in a glob that was bigger than my head. we had some magnificent wild berry pie. and we received complimentary patriotic red white and blue memorial day mints.

they had some wild west curios and trinkets for sale of course and above our table was a shadow box sort of deal with an old torn flag, a faded photograph of a warrior chief and a couple eagle feathers. walking around there were others, some with rusty old guns in them, or tomahawks or arrow quivers. don’t know if they used some genuine historical artifact stuff, but hope not anyway. didn’t seem right to display this fairly recent past in little indivual serving glass cases to buy for a few hundred bucks for tourists to take home and stick up over the fireplace in the den.

riding along the highway in wyoming feels like we should be galloping. running and charging over rolling space hair flying bouncing and free. wyoming makes me want to tip my hat, or at least wear one, and shout yee-hah.

fireworks stands are everywhere just inside the border. fireworks are outlawed in colorado, so they set up right inside wyoming so their customers don’t have to go all the way to cheyenne or laramie or rawlins or rock springs to get their bottle rockets.

inside the colorado border, the state troopers sit waiting with their radar guns. but once inside wyoming, it’s sort of like a wild ride zone. speed limits are posted here and there but not a copper to be seen. it’s like a wide open see for miles let it all out screaming echo chamber flying across the rolling range kind of ride.

wyoming feels like it’s still a little wild around the edges. the west hangs by a thread there.

and it also feels somehow more than half empty. vacant and hollow. most of the indians are gone.

but even though it has a sad emptiness of a not so distant ethnic cleansing feel, there is nevertheless a very strong native american presence there as well. very strong. as if because it is so empty and open there is still some room for the spirits to run and ride their ghost horses across the rolling rocks and sand and grass and sagebrush. maybe it feels so strong because it has changed less. much of the open space remains. even the clouds above often look like herds of buffalo, mirroring the shades of the beasts running and grazing below.

driving and driving for miles between towns there is little sign of civilization except for endless barbed wire fences, occasional power lines, scattered ranches and cattle and a few abandoned cabins and old barns beat with wind and snow, disintegrating into the ground.

managed to take a few pictures but the wind was extreme. could barely stand up and hold my ground in it, much less balance a camera. felt like the whole wild west state of wyoming was blowing right through me in a powerful slam of arrows and horses and stampeding buffalo.

back in the car we listened to memorial day stuff on the radio as we drove. we heard a reading of a poetic photographer's journal in europe during world war II. and we cried for taps.

and so we drove and drove and it felt like we flew through space and time and light and shadow and peace and war and night and day.

and everything was green. and there were bluebells.

and we saw some antelope. and some semi-wild horses running. a coyote. a raccoon. hawks swooping and hunting.

and a deer.

got an hour and a half intro to the big litigation, the history of the thang, where it’s at. three parts: the class action, and then two large groups of individual suits in two different state courts and a handful of others in U.S. District Court. already in the massive discovery phase for one group of individuals. did a lot of zen quantity typing of interrogatories. long ones. detailed ones. non-pattern ones. find it so annoying when opposing counsel will only send in paper format, and doesn’t give digital version. but at least got a very close look at precisely what they’re asking for this way. and need to draft answers to these thirty some rogs for about forty-odd plaintiffs. oh yes. probably could have had a secretary do it, but liked doing something meditative today. starting out with a steady rhythm energy instead of panic of what to do what to do where to start how to get there. if in doubt, just type something. a very large detailed document in full blown legalese. just type.

allowed me to sort of settle into the energy of my office. get to know the keyboard. in a newly created position, not taking somebody’s place, just taking over several people’s pieces of work to consolidate it into one cohesive package, which will be quite a feat, if accomplished.

so in a spare back office away from the rest of the firm, unable to see any actual sunlight or sky. which can be a good thing. keeps me focused, and less likely to get tangled up in or distracted in too many social interactions. and also should keep me heading outside on lunch to walk around a beautiful place rather than just gaze at it out of a window from my desk. and this litigation is going to take a whole lot of concentration. so it’s ok to be tucked away off behind the supply room.

a bit of a shock though to be working in a law office again after almost a year off. once again gainfully employed. regular paycheck and health insurance. and it’s good work. plaintiffs’ work. for human beings. injured human beings. seriously poisoned human beings. heart-breakers. some are going to need heavy duty medical treatment. some of them won’t live to see the thing go to trial. so it’s meaningful and good which is crucial. best if it has ethical issues and on the side of the underdog. better still if winning really helps them or their families out. perfect if the whole thing results in some sort of human redemption situation. so in that regard, this could be great work. but work, nevertheless and oh what quite a lot of it as well.

honestly not completely sure where to start. need to read the files, and find out who all the people are. need to sort out a way to keep track of everything. will probably be making lots of charts and tables and checklists for a while.

so, survived day one. wiped.

******

day two. almost did not survive to live to tell about it.

can’t say too much, except that it involved getting over forty different letters out to clients with five enclosures under a deadline. moved so fast today can’t remember what actually happened.

hate hurrying like that. the panic of it. difficult to be aware and mindful, just rush rush rush and the more rushing, the more likely to make mistakes.

oh, and the number today was 43. not sure how it happens, but sometimes it just does. today, i had to get forty-three packets out, and there were just exactly forty-three 10 x 13 envelopes in the box. if one more was needed, they would have had to send a runner on a mad dash out for immediate office supplies. sat making rapid self addressed stamped envelopes with firm sticker and stamp and ended up again after pausing briefly to count with exactly forty three.

the mad dashing is quite a shock to the system after having been unemployed for a while.

this is going to take some serious adjustment time, to get into a pattern, into a groove.

was ever worse not knowing things like the word processing macros sacred to the joint, how the attorneys like to sign their names, how they address their clients, which printers are for me to use and which ones have serious glitches and problems, how the copier works, where the staplers are, how to work the postage machine, all of that perfectly nonsense second-nature sort of stuff that becomes quite the ordeal when attempting to cope with it for the first time in the middle of getting a big production out the door on time.

and litigation is so manic. one minute everything is quiet and the next . . well . . things can turn on a dime, an instant, a sudden change in strategy, a motion filed, an order or a ruling. and all of a sudden, it’s do three million things and get it to a courier today before 5:00.

luckily had lots of help from great office services runner guy, who helped make lots of copies and did lots of heavy lifting and carrying of things and weighing and metering postage, etc. really pitched in and couldn’t have made the deadline without his help. unfortunately, he’s just graduated from university and his last day is Thursday. a new guy starts tomorrow for the summer. hope he’s as good as this guy.

but what today means, is that after all these packets go out to the clients, they’re all going to be calling me freaking out about all the information they are going to have to provide. which means forty three incoming calls to me probably starting as early as Thursday or Friday.

so here we go. yesterday was semi-mellow get started day. today was trial by fire.

and tomorrow am going to try to start getting up at 5 a.m. in order to work out before work now, too.

eh, who knows. it’s all a just a shock to the system now. had really got into quite a lovely pattern of long morning meditation, working out, housework, errands, and afternoons to read and write, etc. those days were glorious, but they are over and it’s back to work work work. got to pay my way. got to make a living. got to pay the mortgage and buy cat food. such a deal.

already the cats are completely irritated that they’ve been left home alone for two solid days. soon the laundry will be behind and the dust will thicken and cooking will start to be too much of a chore and . . . don’t know what will happen to my poor little bloggy. *sniff*

read my sister’s blog this morning. good friend of sister’s only child is heading off to join the airborne rangers. will even miss his own high school graduation to do so.

such a good kid this one, such a good kid. smart, beautiful, and just plain good. careful and kind with animals, protective of other kids, gentle and strong. strong and gentle. he and my niece were best friends all through grade school. he was planning to grow up to be an astronaut.

can’t imagine how his mother feels. i know she doesn’t believe in this war in the slightest. tears are completely taking me over. a hard pull in my chest. sorrow and panic.

guess this is his choice. he's eighteen. his life. his path. what he feels he must do.

want to meddle. want to run over there to their farewell party and grab him and shake him and say don’t do it don’t do it don’t go please don’t go. you don’t have it in you to hurt other people and you’re far too precious to lose.

however, i am not invited.

last time i saw them was at xmas at my mom and sister’s house a few years ago. he loves chocolate. his mother is very health conscious and doesn’t allow much candy or junk. for a treat, my mom (he calls her grandma) had given him his own tin of hershey bars, a little private stash in a decorative box. just to keep in his room to have whenever he needed a bit of chocolate. and so he was handing them out to everyone at xmas. my mom kept saying "but honey, that’s for you!" and he said, "i know. that’s why everybody gets to have some."

eleven years ago, gave my niece some little plastic walkie talkies for her eighth birthday. when she opened them at the party, she immediately handed one over to him. after everyone had gone home and we were packaging up cake and leftovers, my niece was standing at the sliding glass window in the kitchen staring out into the night toward his house with her walkie talkie saying, "Joe? are you there? over."

things are

about to change

they just have to

everything moves

everything shifts

some believe in a rapture

or meteorites

time might start bending sideways

yeah and then the aliens will come

or maybe

angels will descend to save us

or maybe

we’ll all just stand up

but see

something’s got to happen

and so

if things are in process

everything

will have to be restructured

and there might be crises

and breakthroughs

cataclysmic events

shifts in consciousness

gatherings and events

change is gonna come

might be a wee bit traumatic

for some

might be a walk in the park

for others

might be a moment of faith

for everyone

and love will conquer all

just like in all the movies

and then we’ll have a great big party

and love will conquer all

there’ll be more room for laughter

we’ll clean up all this mess

and love will conquer all

everything is changing

every thing is change

and love will conquer all

and pay attention

gather yourselves

because

somebody’s going to poke an eye out

if everything keeps on like this

everybody calm down

and i mean it

right now

this minute

get a grip

got to learn

got to try to understand

got to get along

play nicely

work together

focus people

come on now

eyes to the front

snap to

stand up

hang on

stay with me people

so why don’t we all

just take a deep breath

gather ourselves

remember why we’re here

that's right

remember how we got here

ok

that’s better

and now

take a moment

to be grateful

ok

alright now

any questions?

the arbor care tree guys are here to trim the big trees that run down the side of the house. it’s a good thing, ultimately, and overdue. but a bit scary for the cats and me, cowering inside the house listening to branches and tree trunks and big limbs crash to the ground, reverberating throughout the place, rattling the windows and jarring the floorboards.

it’s a small old house, less than thirteen hundred square feet, at the end of a dead end that borders on a strip of small park, cornered by a creek (well it was once a creek, now it’s more of a cement drainage ditch), and completely surrounded with huge big old trees. it was the trees and the yard that drew me to the house in the first place. such strong incredible presences.

well that, and the fact that this little house is in what is considered by some to be a "questionable" neighborhood. translated, that means it was affordable.

the house is at the end of a dead end and it has a cottage in the woods feel, even though it is in a somewhat densely populated neighborhood.

of course, originally moved in here one year in the spring/early summer, and the trees were nothing but lovely shade gods and goddesses, dancing leaves, filtered sunlight catchers, and shadow and breeze whisperers. then came that first autumn which would set a yearly ritual of living knee deep in leaves, constant sweeping and scooping truckload after truckload, weekend after weekend of raking and bagging and carting away as well as always several late hangers-on that continue to fall and gunk up everything through the messy snows. every time it is windy, the red willows snap branches and limbs which fall dangerously where the cars are parked, into the yard, on the lawn furniture, the driveway, etc. heavy snows take out larger chunks.

in the spring, there are first the waves and waves of little white seedy circles that whirl inside the house and the car and everywhere else in great piles of confetti. this is then followed by the cotton snow season, which is about ten days to two weeks of heavy floating white fluffy stuff that is breathed in and stuck in itchy nose and teeth and piles up in the corners of the house under the furniture and in the window sills and rugs and carpeting and swirls up in little billows with each step or movement. after that, is the great dropping of the wormy loopy bits -- these three inch floppy green curly things that completely cover the entire place in an inch of slippery fruity bits that eventually dry up and produce great quantities of dusty floaty stuff.

ah yes.

still, believe it or not, love the trees.

anyway, about eight or so of the trees that ring the back yard on the south and east side of the house consist primarily of big red willows with a couple of elms and perhaps an ash or as yet to be identified tall young gangly thing. these trees technically belong to the park, even though they ring our property, and the park is supposed to trim and take care of them. and they do, eventually, with some prodding.

running down the west side of the house however, and bordering with the neighbors, is a long strip colony of about eight silver very large and very old silver poplars, another big red willow and an elm. the front, north side of the house has a big box elder as well. these trees are what are now being trimmed as i type, (including a couple sick ones with mold actually being removed) to the tune of about fourteen hundred dollars.

oh yeah.

and, actually these guys were a bit more expensive than some of the other tree people who came to give us estimates, but they come highly recommended, and they are the only ones in town who are certified arborists and respected as genuine tree people. they’re also supposed to be careful of the tree creatures.

oh these trees are ultimately quite a mess.

but that’s OK.

that’s OK because the trees are friends and i love them. and i feel honored to be a tree custodian.

yeah even if it costs me. good thing am about to be gainfully employed once again starting on monday. partly why the trees got done today.

and in the warm months, this house becomes the official family party location for things like mother’s birthday, fourth of July, labor day, etc. the colder weather indoor holidays like xmas and new year’s and easter and most of our birthdays, take place at my mom and sister’s house, since they actually have a house with a big dining room to accommodate everyone. here, i can just stick ‘em all out in the yard. in fact, we just started the outdoor gathering season over here last Sunday, with a mother’s day celebration involving a great deal of red wine and a very loud and obnoxious thrashing of us all by my sister at Trivial Pursuit. (she always wins.) anyhow, luckily, by being at the end of the street, we can get pretty loud outside under the trees, and nobody has yet to complain. it is as if the trees protect us, shading us from the sun and absorbing our noise.

and the atmosphere here does have a great sense of . . . something to it here. can’t quite explain it. honestly, it feels as if these guys, the trees that is, actually assist me in my mediation. they do.

and they are so big. walking down among the trunks and picking up their waste, trimming and sweeping up after them, carrying their regularly scheduled droppings and sheddings off to the limb and leaf recovery center. yeah it’s quite a mess. and a task. but ultimately, a labor of love.

suppose in ignorance, had thought of the trees originally as just big lovely old things providing shade and atmosphere, and didn’t realize the expense and responsibility of becoming their guardian and primary care taker.

just thought it was a good place.

a place that spoke to me and said i would be safe here. a place that pulled me into its being.

went with it. don’t regret it.

maybe we are all ultimately going to end up tree fertilizer anyhow.

and they talk to me and watch over me and the cats, too. it’s a mutually beneficial relationship.

and right now, it’s hard to hear the chain saws and the wood chipper and all the machinery going on outside. it seems so brutal. so quick and violent and scary. they are mostly taking out just dead stuff and pruning a bit. hope it doesn’t hurt too much.

the tree guys say the last several years of heat and drought have hurt them quite a bit. burnt their leaves and cooked them and some of them have developed a sort of dry mold rot stuff. they’ve seen a lot of it lately. two whole trees suffering from this stuff have to go today.

they’re almost done and doing the clean up now. the wind has come up a bit and it has become cold and it’s starting to rain gently. maybe the water will wash them and soothe the freshly cut bits.

who would have thought that picking up after some messy trees, living in their fuzz and reproductive litter and waste products, even paying through the nose for their healthcare, would seem like such an honor?

who would have known these roots would take so strong a hold so deep in my heart?

not me.

but they did.

and this is a good thing.

Life is like a game of cards. The hand that is dealt you represents determinism; the way you play it is free will.

- Jawaharlal Nehru

Negative feelings, such as violence, are damaging to life, whether we act upon them ourselves, or cause or condone them in others. They are born of greed, anger, or delusion, and may be slight, moderate, or intense. Their fruit is endless ignorance and suffering. To remember this is to cultivate the opposite.

-The Yoga Sutras of Patanjali, 2:34

"Do not seek the Truth. Only cease to cherish opinions."

which i thought was great . . something no doubt needed to remind myself. 

but instead, as i typed it, i wrote:

"Do not seek the Truth. Only seek to cherish opinions."

hmmm. guess i just really can not let go of my precious opinions.

my precious. see how they glitters and sparkles. my precious. precious. gollum, gollum.

patoohie.

ahem.

well, anyway, the good news i guess is that meanwhile, i can get back to seeking Truth. and that’s Truth with a capital T. a very important business in my opinion, which coincidentally, is equally terribly important.

and phew, what a relief. thought i might have actually been onto something for a minute there.

it ends.

or at least the appearance of a present moment ends. the awareness is lost. that is, the present is always now, but the awareness of it, the beauty and purity of the present is sacrificed in the midst of doing the means in an effort to obtain an end.

and that is the end. the end of peace.

for then it is merely grasping. a need for an end result.

and this is anxiety. the natural state of an organic existence striving for some sort of ideal of permanence, attempting some sort of reconciliation with eternity. an instinctual fear of death. great suffering.

but eternity lives in the instant. now is it.

any end can only be one finite direction. a focus of attention directed somehow outward, onward, into a void of as yet unknown future possibility that is being forced, created, pushed into existence through a persistent drive to become something. something else. something somehow other. maybe new and improved.

and it never really gets there. the actual can never be ideal through a force of will. all kinds of things can be brought to be, to come about through effort. but the underlying desire will never be satiated.

observe the intention.

all that is, is already here.

it is only the will that believes it must create the end.

and it is mistaken.

there can be no war for peace. to insist so, is just picking a fight.

and the choice is always available.

it happens every second.

in the present moment.

beginning right now.