Halo at night

The trend I noted yesterday continues: I am feeling how little time I have for anything, but not panicking. Life continues to be palatable and fresh for me this week.

Tonight I had a little moment as I was leaving the office late. I worked 9 hours today in order to make up for an hour I took off on Monday. I closed down the office around sunset and was faced, like I and others often face the ocean in a dream, with the churning quiet of downtown Albuquerque. Downtown Albuquerque is not bustling - especially on weekday evenings - so there was a nice calm. The air seemed quite clean and easy to me, with a comfortable chill after a hot day.

Downtown often feels very similar to all the ruined cities I've visited. The buildings loom large and seem as unoccupied as the streets below. I am surrounded by colorful, vivid murals and mosaics thrown up on the walls. The pyramid-like Bank of Albuquerque building looms down like a theocratic watchtower. Really, this could be Machu Picchu, Giza, Pompeii - though on a much larger scale.

I drive down fourth street through the low-roofed, bestreetlighted Barelas neighborhood, across the Rio Grande bridge with its stately view of the Volcanoes, and off to my quiet street for a simple dinner and a beer.

Yes, I wish I had more time to do creative things; to grow; to learn; to master. But there is much to be said about simply enjoying my daily (somewhat mundane) tasks, the company of the people around me, the air I breathe.

Is this a fault? Is my acceptance of such mundane things the reason why I don't venture out for success, like so many others before me have and so many after me will?

Perhaps.

Perhaps I still need to dig deeper to get to some arterial storehouse of my own energy, charisma and eros. Find more pain; face more fears; work through more wounds. They are there. I will find my way to them, one way or another. For now, the skies are calm.

It is okay for the skies to be calm every once and a while. Seriously.

Dream well, all.