the pelican

once more with feeling

Visit ClubMotime

by any other name

and so as they say all things must end.

whoever they are.

and oh, the things they say.

well all i really have to say is thank you.

thank you very much for the greatest sweetest kindest little corner of the blogosphere for the last six years. thanks for the divine howard and all that he did (and does). thank you for the community friends budddies information correspondence support and thank you for all the blogs and thoughts and news and words and love and humor shared.

and as all things are temporary impermanent transitory and ephemeral i guess motime was no exception. the only permanence the only reality the only thing we can really count on is change.

goodbye old bloggy.

catch you all on the flip side.

much love to all.

posted by: limine at 14:44 | link | comments (1) |

for and in consideration of

yeah ok so a big part of my job is always a great build-up to an event that never happens. tons of discovery and disclosures and all sorts of stuff in between eventually leading up to a settlement conference and if not successful further towards trial. preparations of a trial management order, designations and order of proof, jury instructions, exhibits, all deadlines driven off the ever approaching feet-held-to-the-fire trial date.

and often it's a whole lot of work, a whole lot of paper, a whole lot of preparation for something that goes away in a matter of minutes when agreements are finally reached.

litigation is so manic.

and normally, i'm fine with that. for the most part.

grateful even.

often fairly exhausted from too much adrenalin and stress leading up to the big compromise but also relieved that the entire dance and drama of trial is not required to go forth.

but not this time.

oh sure i wanted it to settle originally. best thing for everyone always -- especially clients. i wanted it all to go away with minimal fuss and all of us to go on with other pressing deadlines and pressure cooker items. and i was disappointed when it didn't and i had to cancel our vacation plans and move dentist appointments and everything else around while dealing with a sick and dying kitty and working ahead in all my other cases that got bunched up in the midst of this struggle.

but even so as usual, we were ready. we must always prepare for full battle even though it is almost never necessary.

and this time, i guess maybe it had become personal for me. as a friend of mine would say, a dead body issue -- as in not over mine.

and so we were super ready. girl scout ready. ahead of time ready.

and the defendants weren't. they were visibly crumbling before our eyes.

and the attorney for the defendants had been horrid throughout the whole thing. re-scheduling depositions and then coming to them completely unprepared wasting everybody's time and putting our clients through the ringer and missing deadlines and we bent over backwards in the spirit of cooperation to accommodate their incompetence. we gave them extension after extension of deadlines. we didn't try to force a ton of expensive discovery out of them. we were kind and understanding and re-scheduled as best as we could but when things didn't go their way and rulings favored us she went ad hominem on us and accused the attorney i was working for on this case and this firm of all sorts of despicable and dishonorable things sent in late-night inflamatory spewing emails essentially demonstrating her panic and awareness that she had completely messed up but desperately trying to make it look to her clients as if the problem was with us and with the fact that she herself had messed up and it was to our advantage.

the attorney i worked for said she was his candidate for worst attorney of the year.

and we were the model of good faith. we had done everything on time and not objected to her extensive requests for extensions and submitted everything promptly and they hadn't even submitted their order of proof. they hadn't even provided us with their exhibits. we had good helpful kind witnesses lined up. interpreter and back-up interpreter scheduled.

they didn't even want to go near the jury instructions and for good reason. they had little to contribute and almost nothing to argue about. they were about to be roasted alive. and i was going to take a certain amount of satisfaction and watch.

true, i would have had to work the weekend before and put in lots of extra hours and work ahead in other cases and have to drive all the way to denver every day and wear pantyhose and sit on hard wooden benches and sweat and fret and all of it. but i was ready to anyway. 

i mean i was ready for extreme cage fighting. i wanted a smackdown. i wanted people held accountable. i wanted to watch the attorney i worked for on this (who juries tend to love anyway) and i wanted the defendants to squirm and sit face to face with our clients and have to look at the jury and account for how they left our semi-comatose client stashed in a corner for two and half days with a dirty diaper and a dirty trach and ants crawling all over her and when our little family struggling with english as a second language took time off from running their family business closed the store to come see their mother and found the condition she was in and when they tried to alert the nursing home staff to the state in which they found their mom that sunday, the nursing home called the police on the upset family for causing a disturbance and tried to cover up the fact that they were over-worked and under-staffed and hadn't bothered to get help or care for a semi-comatose patient on a respirator who couldn't speak for herself even if she could understand the language.

to me this was a nightmare situation -- for the family members who have to make the difficult decision to leave a loved one in another's care -- and for the patient in a semi-comatose state (though in and out of consciousness, mostly out, but responsive to pain) lying in her own filth, being left to die in a corner, with bugs crawling all over her, and no way to do anything about it.

oh the injustice. the helplessness. the suffering. the worry and fear and guilt of the family.

and i guess maybe what i really wanted what i really wanted what i craved what i so wanted to happen was for our kind good loving clients to have an opportunity to look the bloody monsters in the eye -- and the jury to witness it.

guess in some sense, this means i wanted payment. in full. i wanted vindication.

and so i was so mad and disillusioned when it settled. i was mad at everybody. even mad at the attorney i worked for who seemed to me at the time to be "caving" and mad at the nursing home for getting away with such harm and mad at our clients for wanting to walk away from it and face their oppressors and mad mad mad at the opposing attorney for being such an obnoxious pill who criticized everybody and drug everything out until after the mother had died and mad at my job for all the blood sweat and tears put into something that went absolutely nowhere when i had much bigger cases to be worried about and worked on and just mad mad mad.

just mad.

so i guess you say i'm human, yeah. i could rationalize that away perhaps. i could say well you know it was understandable. i was all worked up for a good cause. it was something i believed in.
 
but it's true. i wanted to see this particular defendant pay the price and i wanted the attorney representing them to go down in flames.

and for the most part i am opposed to harsh judgment and the desire to punish. i have a very healthy skepticism i question authority all authority especially self-righteous authority full of the need to mete out justice authority. the kind that knows what's best for everybody else. the sort who feels it is their duty their god-given right to correct others to thrust their will their understanding of right and wrong on others to decide they know how best to walk in the other's shoes to impose their rules. to me it always says more about the one who needs to correct others, who needs to punish, who needs to make it right than it does about whatever the wrong-doer has done. it is the abuse of power of the fundamentalist it is the spanish freaking inquisition it is the self-righteous indignation of the self-appointed pious and holy it the realm of the control freaks and the ignorant and the judgmental and the miserable self-appointed executioners.

and so here i am. being that sort of thing of which i most abhor. i wanted satisfaction. in truth perhaps i wanted revenge. i am not proud.

and i know the jury would have loved our sweet little hard-working immigrant family of clients who only wanted their mother to be cared for. to not suffer. to be comfortable and safe. i know they would have loved them and wanted to help them just as we did. the clients who were moved to tears of gratitude when the firm sent the basically obligatory flowers when their mother passed away. the clients who were never greedy or angry or had any ax to grind but only wanted to be sure their mother was cared for appropriately and that she didn't suffer.

well in the end i guess our clients taught me a thing or two.

because what they did was after calling 911 to take their mother away from the nursing home (while the nursing home was calling the police on our clients for causing a disturbance and supposedly threatening them with a tiny cell phone that they were actually using to take pictures of bugs with) was to take her home to care for her themselves. after she had been seen to and taken care and stabilized at the hospital they immediately starting making arrangements to bring her home. they brought in a sister from far away. they all took turns working their small family business so one of them could always be home with their mother 24 hours a day. they washed her and fed her and changed her and administered to her. she eventually was able to respond to them at times and recognize them on good days. she even smiled for them on many occasions. and they did this round the clock for over a year and a half while the nursing home defendants put up every road block, asked for every extension, refused to attend a settlement conference and put everything off until eventually their mother passed away about a month before trial. and when the attorney i work for explained to the family that the bulk of their claims went away with her death they did not mind because it was never money they were after. they only wanted good care for their mother. and if there were to be awarded anything, they wanted it to go to the sister who had put her life on hold and moved all the way here to care for their mother full time at home.

and so it was. our clients decided they would accept the ridiculously practically nothing pittance offer rather than close the family business to spend long days in a court room. they did not want vengence. they wanted it to all go away. they were pleased that they had done the best they could in the time they were given and they were grateful for the time spent with their mother. they did not want to add a long drawn out fight to it. they wanted peace. they accepted the measly insulting crumbs with gratitude and called it good.

it's beautiful, really. and rare. and fine.

and yet in the throes of three days before trial arranging for a courier to deliver jury instructions to the court i was angry.

me. me who spouts compassion and forgiveness all the time. me who believes there are no such things as dead body issues and that compromise is always possible. me who stresses open-mindedness and charity and kindness.

they were not concerned about exacting justice. they know better. they had the bigger picture down much better than me. they know justice is not for us to bludgeon others into submission with. they know the only real justice is karmic justice and they did not want to add their own grief into it. and i didn't want them to do the right thing! and they did. they honored their mother through their selflessness and kindness and their ability to simply let it go. they could not change the outcome and they took no ownership. they did their best and they let go.

and while i wanted to kick and scream UNFAIR UNFAIR THIS IS SO UNFAIR they are simply happy and relieved that the ordeal is over.

and i guess they showed me.

ah the sweet sweet nectar of forgiveness.

so with a little distance i'm starting to see it better. and i'm glad it's over. and i have a little time off coming next week too.

and i wish them all the best. i wish their sweet mother well on her journey.

and so i stand . . . corrected.

and i owe them.

i bow before them.

they are the refuge.





 

posted by: limine at 10:40 | link | comments (4) |

in between

ah mortality. impermanence. ephemera. movement.

yeah today is supposed to be something special. supposed to be. but really it’s just another day.

and a beautiful cloudy cool autumn day at that. crisp and dark. woodsmoke and leaves and apples. today is my birthday. and i am getting old.

feeling the cold.

had to light the furnace today. had been trying to get by with blankets and sweat pants and sweaters and oven baking. but it was time. it was cold enough. and we’ve had the dreaded crud cold fluishness going too and still coughing and hacking up wadges of gunk and so after watching my breath puff out in front of the tv screen it seemed the thing to do was light the furnace.

seems as though the internal organs of home have just come back to life. in the midst of the cold, the heart and soul of the house, the warmth of the shelter has returned to embrace us and comfort us against the changing weather.

it’s an old little gas stove that shows the blue and orange fire glowing in a window on the front. sits in a corner of the tiny living room and pops and booms and flicks and whoomps when it starts up again. have it dialed in to about a five this morning though the actual gauge is fudgey and has little true meaning. at night in the dark with the lights off, the living room is bathed in soft gentle flickering orange.

stayed home from work today. had planned it originally as a day off if possible, but figured i wouldn’t be able to do it because of the big horrible case at work that was supposed to start a three week trial next tuesday. my exhibit list alone was twenty eight count ‘em twenty eight pages. list. just a listing of the documents. death by litigation we called it, this case. been cranking for almost eight long years and morphed into various ugly forms from business litigation to estate litigation to eventually a suing of the attorneys litigation and that’s where we came in. legal malpractice.

the thing has completely consumed us for most of the summer and of course before that as well, but it had heated up, as things do, as the actual trial drew nearer.  keep asking myself why i ever wanted to be a paralegal in the first place. all things were put off, weekends worked, vacations not taken. a brief anniversary getaway became briefer and involved taking calls and answering email and returning two days early to stay late at night filing responses to motions against a midnight deadline. and besides the strain on personal life, it made actual work difficult because it required so much time and concentration and too many other cases still had deadlines to be met, things to be done and taken care of, depositions to schedule, exhibits to make, pleadings to file. all psychic emotional intellectual energy was being chewed up and spit out at beyond acceptable tolerance levels. it’s been a long time of upset stomach and an itchy break out of hives and a few paralyzing headaches and constant nagging details and flaring tempers and list making and juggling of emergencies and waking up at three in the morning wondering if the deadline for filing motions in limine was calculated correctly.

yeah so well anyway the big hairy thing settled against all odds and to much relief and renewed daily thanks and gratitude.  ah the mania of litigation.

on one minute and off the next. scrambling and scrambling and building and compiling and organizing and scheduling and then a great popping of the bubble. poof. over. all for naught.

such is the nature of the biz.
 
kind of like life i guess. the worrying the scrimping the saving the hoarding the cleaning the polishing the managing the balancing the running and driving and talking and planning and cooking and washing and visiting and caring and painting and talking and writing and mowing and trimming and dusting and moving and giving and shopping and studying and working and eating and dancing.

chopping wood and hauling water. it is what we do. activity. it is what we do in between.

thing is i actually am fairly sure i remember being born if you can believe it. it was blurry and psychedelic and traumatic but i think i can. in fact when i was small i described the hospital room to my mother and how she barfed in a metal bowl held by a nurse while i was up high on a cold hard counter top and completely freaked her out with my accuracy. in fact i told her many details of my early life as an infant including how the hospital room i was in a few days later after i was born due to a staph infection was on a corner with windows looking out at the flatirons. and yes i know babies aren’t supposed to see that well or be able to distinguish things but it is as clear and accurate a memory as any. i remember being in a basket on a table and my grandmother telling me over and over that i was fourteen days old and various people coming up to look inside at me and i remember looking into their faces and expressions and thinking how they morphed through time and experience into the people that they were and how far i had to go and whether or not i would remember how life would shape me. yeah how can it be i could have known these things or why i remember it all so clearly or how i can remember it as though i was speaking to myself in my head well i can’t really tell you. but it seems i do, or so i tend to believe.

well anyway. you can make of that whatever you will.

to me it's about this duration this time this brief precious glimpse of experience of perception of awareness of ordinary life of breathing in and out.

one minute here and the next is gone.

luckily the horrible cold fluishess stuff hit almost within hours after the big bad case settled. luckily? well it would have been great to have missed the discomfort but the whole time i was coughing and wheezing and struggling for air and gargling with salt water and holding my head over the vaporizer i just kept saying over and over and over again thank you thank you thank you.

stayed home a few days with the crud last week but still more was to come. my sweet frail old orange angel cat passed away in a rather traumatic turn of events. well you see basically my cats all live inside the house but when we’re home in the evening they get to go outside for an hour or two and on the weekends they play out for most of the day. they all pretty much come when i call them in, much to the amazement of my neighbors each evening when they see me walking around herding the cats back into the house.

and we live by a park and sometimes a dog gets loose and runs over into our yard and the cats all scatter inside the house and run upstairs at top speed or up the trees or into my arms. and old dante, the 17 year old skinny little geriatric nerves of steel stands up to the dog in an arched back hissing yard protection stance. but this time it was a suicide mission. a neighbor walking a young german shepherd puppy on a leash jerked free  from her to chase a squirrel and headed into the backyard and faced dante, the kitty from hell.

luckily i didn’t see the actual event but did find him in the backyard after the neighbor had run to my front door in a panic telling me her dog had got one of my cats. he was laying on his side in the dirt and jack and harley were standing over him. jack was licking his head. he couldn’t get up. i scooped him up in a towel and dashed off to the vet at top speed. they gave him fluids and steroids and treated him for shock and took x-rays. he had two dislocated ribs and two bad puncture wound tears on his sides and she couldn’t tell if his spine was involved from the xray but it did appear as though it was since he had no feeling in his back legs. we monitored him for about two hours and petted him and kissed him on the head and decided the thing to do was let him go. he was such a great guy he just did not deserve to suffer.  he used to be the kitten of the bunch but he had become the little old man. the last of the old guard. our faithful sweet old angel orange.

you would think going from six cats to five would not seem so drastic but the gaping hole left in his absence is substantial. pepe wants to sleep in his spot on the bed but izzy won’t have it. jack walks around his mat and sniffs it. bono brings me tufts of dante’s orange fur from the back steps. all the guys have been extremely affectionate and sticking close, taking turns to sit on me one or two at a time and purr to me. we all miss him.

oh yes we are in the midst.

on again off again in breath and out breath and round and round we go.

and so i’m starting up the kettle for another cup of tea and my father-in-law is singing happy birthday to me on the message machine and i’m handing out some cat treats and turning up the dial on the little furnace while the leaves are falling and the bugs are moving in and flowers droop and crumble and the days grow shorter and the light fades and wanes and trees creak and the cats curl up for extra nap time and the stove whoomps on again.

yeah it’s just another day.

and a beautiful cloudy cool autumn day at that. crisp and dark. woodsmoke and leaves and apples. today is my birthday. and i am getting old.

posted by: limine at 09:38 | link | comments (11) |

heat wave

oh get out of the kitchen baby.

well you know it’s not a good sign when a ninety degree day feels cool.

i believe this is the 16th day of above 90s and no sign of it letting up. before that it was mostly 90s with a couple days of high 80s sprinkled in. and no water. barely a trickle a sprinkle a brief meager handful of water here and there. lightening against the mountains in the early evenings. extreme fire danger.

everything is starting to look parched and brown and wilted. yep it’s feeling like we’re being cooked alive here high on the front range.

and tempers have flared and words have been said and moments have occurred.

moved office in late june early july. strange chaotic mess but love my new space with magnificent view of the mountains with trees and brush and creek and little visiting birds. such a lovely view out my window that occasionally i am so distracted by the beauty of it just have to pause and stare.

and a new great big vast desk to wheel around inside of with plenty of work space for three separate projects to be going at a time.

much to be thankful for.

and yet.

and yet i’m getting so tired of the stress and the juggling of deadlines and the never-ending worry and the sitting up in the middle of the night wondering if all the exhibits were included or if i’d missed a filing date or a disclosure or returned a phone call and have too many hours and too many weekends but got to pay those vet bills somehow you know but feeling burned out and fed up and tired and old and irritable.

and hot. limp and exhausted and swollen and hot. and whiney. and stressed.

and so are the cats. they hate the heat. and can you blame them -- walking around in little fur coats. they lay around the house like dishrags. come home from work in the evening and dante and izzy and harley are all bunched up in a line sleeping against the cold porcelain of the tub.

oh yeah. harley.

adopted yet another cat. like we needed a sixth boarder in the cat hotel. but it was unavoidable. heard him call me at the giant pet outlet place in the wall of hard-to-adopt creatures. he was on the bottom left. forgotten. up against the bar of the cage. he reached out and tapped my leg with a gentle paw and it was over.

i mean they always call to me. all of them. and i can’t take them all home. and like we need another cat. honestly what was i thinking.

well i wasn’t, truth be told. he was inside my head. he was talking to me like my guys do. the bond was there and there was no denying it. he said i had to get him out of there and it was time he came home.

and well he was right.

he fit right in with the band of brothers without a hitch. he ran up and kissed everybody on the nose. each kitty was greeted and thanked and loved up by the new guy. he ran around saying he was home he was home he was home and he hasn’t really stopped. sometimes he just runs right up into my lap and up into my face and kisses me right on the nose and then dashes off to play or crunch some food or sit on the porch or lay at my feet. he comes when he’s called. he stays close. barely leaves the yard and kind of clings to the side of the house if he goes outside. he loves everyone he meets, human, cat, or otherwise.

he was a flat-faced-friends-society kitty, which typically rescues persians and their ilk, but he is not flat-faced, though he is long hair and all white and soft as an angora bunny. silky soft. practically mink.

globs of clingy white cat hair are going to look great on my clothes, too.

going to require regular brushing and grooming and care. because well i just have so much time on my hands that i might as well be spending it caring for six cats.

well for the most part the other guys have totally accepted him, as though harley was of course supposed to be there. they know him. they tolerate him. they are not threatened or disturbed by him.

for the most part.

jack was little upset. just a wee bit jealous. and bono thought there were too many other cats as is at this point and was concerned that he would not receive enough attention. and truth be told, i kind of wondered if we’d done the right thing.

i mean i think this is some kind of syndrome, right? where the crazy cat lady just keeps accumulating animals and her house fills up with cat poop and old newspapers and eventually the authorities will come and haul her away.

but not quite yet. hopefullly.

for now, all six guys are happily a pack of furry beastie brothers who play and sleep and live together in relative peace.

for the most part.

well see my bono kitty put me through a bit of a panic this week. my special little tuxedo clad hot water bottle rubber baby bono buddy and i had a few words. he had to make a statement and i had to hear it.

he’s always been the best about coming when called. yeah i know cats are not dogs, but all my cats come when called for the most part. it is part of the deal. part of the hotel rules, part of the regimen, part of the bargain.

see the kitties live indoors all day while at work. when home in the evening and on weekends, the back door is open and they are free to play outside and scratch trees and flop in the grass and dash around the yard and explore and sleep under bushes and patrol the grounds and what have you. but they all come in for dinner before bedtime and they stay inside during the night. most of them, sometimes all of them, sleep in the bed as well.

and they all know the drill. the schedule. the pattern.

and bono was always the best about coming when called. heck he practically used to run to me from a house or two down the block -- i’d call for bono buddy and he’d come running and leap into my arms. but the last few nights he has not been responding. and i’ve found him, for the most part, in the forbidden zone across the creek in the neighbors’ yard -- a huge and cavernous sprawling two or three acre lot grand-fathered into the area somehow full of piles of old rusty junk and car parts and tall weeds and boxes and crates and scraps and tires. they used to raise geese and ducks and chickens but we almost never see those anymore. they have dogs and a ferral cat colony and there are raccoons and foxes and skunks galore. it is a cat paradise. a veritable disneyland of activities and cubby holes and hunting grounds.

and he knows it’s verboten territory and yet he’s been pushing the boundaries and not only that, not only pushing the boundaries but refusing to come in when called. just flat out refusing to acknowledge the call. and i’ve had to go all the way around the fence down the block and around to the front of the house through the junk and the wire and the cars and the house with the loud barking dogs and the machine shop and ask for permission to head back behind into the wild to retrieve my stubborn cat.

and after doing this two or three times this week, he was put in solitary confinement as a punishment for his refusal to respond. he was put in the bathroom with the door closed for a good half an hour. i am a cruel mother i guess. it was supposed to be a lesson. a statement, a training session if you will.

and well. i guess i have now been fully trained.

for you see, friday night he was completely gone. he would not respond. he would not even show himself. he was missing. and i combed the neighborhood calling for him, driving all the neighbors insane with my constant bono buddy bono buddy bono buddy to no avail. and i felt the panic set it. and the fear. and for the life of me i could not place him. my gut feeling was that he was nearby but i couldn’t find him. and normally we have a bond between us and we have interior locator devices and i always know that he’s over under the bushes next door or across the street under the neighbors porch or hiding in the weeds at the back of the driveway at the pink house. but he was just plain gone and not responding, not cooperating, not coming in and not revealing or communicating his whereabouts. finally i broke down and came in the house and all the fears started to take over that i might never see him again. that maybe he decided to relocate. maybe something terrible happened. maybe he was trapped somewhere. maybe he was hurt.

this was not like him. in eight years he's never done this.

something just had to be wrong.

yet through the panic, over and over, whenever i calmed myself down enough, i knew in my heart he was ok. i could hear him telling me . . . you just don’t own me. you don’t own me. it's all about free will.

and then after a couple long hours of torture and aguish and worry, just like that, he showed up at the back door. and i picked him up and he sort of braced himself. he knew i was upset and he thought i was maybe going to put him in the bathroom again but i just held him. and he purred and purred and then reverted completely back to his normal rubber baby bono buddy state and we had a very long extended affectionate reunion moment together. he licked my tears and he apologized and i apologized for trying to control him and we said we loved each other over and over.

and saturday, when the doors were opened up early in the morning to let the cool air in and the beasties were released, he went outside and then ran back in and leaped into my arms and then ran back outside. and all day, whenever i called for him, he came in the house and purred and reassured me that everything was back to normal and he was nearby and he’d tell me if he needed me and all was back as it should be.

and so.

so anyway.

there is so much i can not control so much i have to let be as it is so much to accept so much to be grateful for so much that is all part of the play so much so much the list is endless. can’t control relationships, cats, the weather.

it’s just another hot summer night at the cat hotel. and probably one of many more to come.

and i have a glass of ice water rapidly melting beside me. echoes on the radio.

jack’s in his basket. harley’s alternating at my feet and up on my chest to wash my face for a minute and then back down to the feet. dante is on the back of the chair. izzy is sleeping by the tub. pepe’s in the laundry basket.

and bono is in position upstairs in bed. he’s stretched out, lounging under the swamp cooler, waiting for me to join him.

and i think i'll accommodate him.

posted by: limine at 22:29 | link | comments (7) |

wind cave

words words words. sometimes have to wonder if they are really ever appropriate. silence is golden as they say.

as they say.

yeah so i guess in some sense i’m always writing. in my head. to some extent at least, have to say there is some kind of regular verbalization going on at quite a clip most of the time. always sorting it out, talking it out on the inside. trying to define and describe and label, all done in some sort of vain attempt at understanding that really involves more a sense of justification or evaluation. i think i call this process “making sense of things” perhaps, but i have my doubts.

and some kind of inner certainty that the really important stuff simply has no words to describe it.

so much of this chatter, this mind dialogue, this rancid nostalgia, this recreation of reality in my own image my own perception my own my my me me me stuff.

seems so bloody fascinating at the moment but you look at it really closely and it just dissolves into nothingness.

just.

like.

that.

and so. what i have got to say?

precious little, really.

yet no doubt i could go on about several things that have been eating me of late.

wind cave for one. yeah wind cave. south dakota.

get ready for some darkness.

darkness darkness.

went on a road trip, see. busier than i’ve ever been in my life at work these days, so much going on so much happening such a cacophony of deadlines crashing into each other and general loose ends and extra discovery and special exceptions and one big hairy giant hourly case that if i worked at a big firm i’d be delighted to sink into all day long for days on end of billable hours but in the midst of an incredibly hectic fast-paced case load of other stuff it makes for an impossible to manage combination of bad timing and fires and emergencies and forgotten pieces and approaching time limits.

yeah so anyway in the midst of this we took a week and a bit off just ten days really and we went on a road trip. like that was such a good idea. but husband was threatening some sort of mutiny because there was so spring excursion due to trial and been so busy catching up after that and the whole firm is moving office space in about a week and it’s all nuts and chaos and yeah.

we went up to jackson hole and that was magnificent of course though cold and rainy and the tetons were covered in clouds for the first two days but did get some goodly glimpses of those most amazing fantastic spectacular mountains. they aren’t even as high as the mountains i live near but you see them right up close and personal without any foothills or flatirons or other stuff in front. they just sprout right up in front of you in some extremely poky pointy spikey rocky picket fence of harsh beauty.

and then we went to cody which was ok. buffalo bill and all of it. wild west stuff that was never really wild once it was the west and the nostalgia began before they were barely finished exploiting and destroying it you know so that we can drive there and see what once was. strange stuff and not so distant of a past. not so distant at all. cowboys and indians and such you see. saw some old wild west town with old cabins and a saloon and a general store and lots of artifacts and trophies of destruction. got me going about this cowboys and indians conflict thang i got going on internally.

and then to south dakota. over the pass looking down on the big horn basin full pallet of color with a medicine wheel on top.

devil’s tower not so devilish but very still and powerful.

black hills. rich. lush. dark. deep. old. soft. sacred. and, coincidentally turned into a bright commercial fun-filled family-packed amusement park for your convenience. very strange juxtaposition of things. giant dollar bill presidents’ faces grafitti-like on a rock face with a big sterile institution-like cafeteria food government installation below all made out to be some sort of magnificent achievement. tired wimpy genetically inbred bison half asleep in penned sanctuary type drive-through lush rolling grassy hills of a pay per view state park. visited the motorcycle museum in sturgis. had the worst service ever at a chophouse in spearfish. ate nachos under kevin costner’s waterworld costume at his bar in deadwood. visited the shiny sparkling new crazy horse memorial complex with mixed feelings. not the old long dirt road with the rough rocky parking lot and the tiny heart-breaking little museum anymore no sir. i guess this is a good thing. i guess this is progress.

i guess.

and then eventually pulled down called down forced to endure wanted to see wind cave.

do like caves. did two full tours, the natural entrance tour and the garden of eden tour one right after the other. marching around with rangers through narrow passageways and stairs and stairs and stairs down corridors and tunnels with about twenty other tourists for about three hour hike total all together or so.

thing is though, thing is, thing about the whole thing well it just was quite weird. kind of irritated me. got in under my fingernails. made me think of tibet of lhasa of sacred places crawling sprawling under construction shrines and holy places as tourist attractions full of pollution and garbage and cars and looky-loos and just really made me sad.

i mean here is this place this obviously special place this beautiful sweet amazing lattice work of caves and tunnels lacing underground for miles and miles and miles. this magic little hole in the ground that breathes. this navel of the earth. this living orifice. this wonderful in breath and out breath this place that puts the om in home kind of place.

and here i am entering it with a pack of people through a giant metal glass revolving door.

and as for being a natural entrance, well.

and we tromp down concrete steps and walk along an asphalt blacktop path that has been seared coated globbed into onto throughout this gentle still dark quiet empty place of earth breath.

and i could not help but feel as though i was clearly violating it, even though at the same time there i was finding the the whole experience rather fascinating and interesting and beautiful and exciting.

i mean i just don’t get it. i mean i guess i do but i don’t.

perhaps it is purely infantile of me or just some sort of misplaced sentimentality or maybe you could say i am too idealistic or maybe just maybe it is about what a sad strange lack of sensitivity we seem to have as a race that we must do this sort of thing. i have to ask have to wonder have to scream sometimes have to cry have to ask what is wrong with us what is wrong what is this about where did we go wrong is this the only way we can learn do we have to destroy everything do we have to commercialize it does it have to make money does it have to have value in the materialistic sense is nothing sacred is nothing real can we not agree can we not see can we not get it do we have to dig up graves and put things on display in the name of understanding and science and yet and yet i was so excited to get the new national geographic with stonehenge on the cover and read about new discoveries and yes of course it was a graveyard people of course it was it is it is just too much of a contradiction and it’s all happening so fast and sometimes sometimes sometimes i can’t have it both ways in my soul sometimes the tao seems to be fighting it out like cowboys and indians and everybody is going to lose.

and.

and what makes me oh so morally superior i live here i live in a house i drive a car i work in an office i go to the supermarket i do i do and even so even so even so all these big plastic mcmansions are sucking up all the energy and watering their fake blue grass lawns in the desert and bush wants to drill up the coasts for oil because the oil companies are gouging us to death and people driving their big black SUVs don’t want to pay to drive to the top of pike’s peak and the glaciers are melting and the tornadoes are coming and the rivers are flooding and still it’s all about the economy stupid and the war in iraq and there are lives on the line so many lives on the line all the time all the time in the world all the time and and.

and i’m still not really sure where i was going with that whole thing but no doubt it has something to do with my attitude or lack of awareness or something but there it is.

the darkness of wind cave.

i want to figure it all out. understand it. name it. define it. say it. have my way with it. make sense of it all. formulate and draw conclusions and put it together with whipped cream and a cherry on top. i want balance. i want meaning.

but this is all i’ve got for now.

words words words. sometimes have to wonder if they are really ever appropriate. silence is golden as they say.

as they say.

and so. what i have got to say?

precious little, really.

been a while since i wrote much.

guess wind cave knocked the words right out of me.

and even though she is coated in poisonous petroleum products and packed full of tourists, she is still breathing.

for now.

and so am i.

and here we are.

and what is it that changes and what is it that endures?

oh ephemera.

and words words words.

posted by: limine at 22:03 | link | comments (9) |

to boldly go

so you can gather what you will.

make of it whatever you choose.

decide for yourself. make up your own mind. pick it all out.

but however it comes together, whatever it means, well.

well well.

been watching old star treks lately. the 60s concept of the future. in succession. on the discs.

yeah i’ve even got ‘em in the little primary color plastic communicator shaped boxes.

uh huh.

next generations too of course. have to say though, the only thing that got me through the trial was a regular solid nightly dose of red dwarf. kryton and lister and rimmer and cat. because when you’re the only human being left alive in the universe you need to put on your spacesuit and get out there and scrub the side of a ship the size of a city with a foaming brush.

but i digress.

yeah so i’ve been into the old stuff. 1966. where all the women wear tiny little miniskirts and go-go boots and hand the captain clipboards and cups of coffee. where the crewmen flip switches and snap buttons and lights blink and twinkle. where computers are large hollow boxes with screens and christmas lights and spinning reels. and all alien skies are orange and there are always plenty of styrofoam rocks around. and the women all have high piled wiggy space-do hair and must be filmed through shaded shadowy soft focus.

where cheap minimalism and primary colors defined what was thought of in the past as futuristic.

and as they say, captain always gets his shirt ripped. and uhura opens frequencies. and good ole scotty can do anything with a screwdriver. what a guy. and bones is only a doctor, not a mechanic or any other number of various professions.

and that’s all well and good but well see for me it was really all about spock.

always spock.

intelligence. wisdom. and of course logic. logically logically logic. and science.

oh he was so tragically misunderstood. a sensitive alien among barbarians.

because it wasn’t that he didn’t have emotion. oh no. it was that he was so disciplined in not being pulled about by it. he maintained a kind of detachment. he understood the entanglement of attachment. ataraxia. a true stoic.

yet they patronized him. they pushed his buttons but he could not pushed. spock was supposed to be somehow inferior to passionate humans. captain was always quick to retaliate. ready to fire. spock kept his phaser on stun.

and as second in command, he had made peace with his ego.

spock was ahead of his time in a future that was stuck in the past.

oh silly humans. how they react so emotionally. so destructively. and they put on such airs and puffery. full of flattery and threats and deception.

but not spock, no. oh to be so cool. so detached. so logical. calm and wise and smart smart smart. and gentle. spock was brutally honest, but gentle and without malice. he did not react.

but me on the other hand . . . well, uh well.

if it’s any indication, last night i came home from work in a whirl about deadlines. pretrial order to draft, disclosures, two big sets of discovery, a scheduling order. all to be done in advance in order to take a couple weeks off at the end of may. and plenty of other things to get done in the midst. an ocean of documents to be reviewed and sent out for ocr scanning to send out to experts. and the office is going to be moving into another space without any storage or working area and there is an endless amount of things to be done and sorted out and i can see the train wreck coming and know that it is unavoidable. and it’s mother’s day and nephew’s piano recital and groceries and errands and and and and got in the shower to wash the day off.

the new self-care plan. like to get in the shower right after work. put on comfy cloths and then sit outside on the grass with the cats under the trees for a little while before starting the dinner making process. for a re-centering of sorts. a return to the breath.

so i turned on the water and jumped in the shower.

with my socks and glasses on.

luckily, noticed the socks fairly quickly but didn’t realize about the glasses until completely covered in shampoo. hard to see when your glasses are dripping in globs of suds.

oh to get so wound up and stressed out and running in so many directions at once.

how illogical.

and make no mistake about it, my expressions betray me all the time. feelings flow through me in great intensity and with varying frequencies all day long. even have a drama queen charm on my keyring that a friend gave me. he said it would be advisable to carry it with me always as a medical alert tag.

and truth be told, guess you could say i have no poker face.

no i don’t actually. i really don’t. i can conceal nothing.

blush and smile and stammer and bumble and apologize and walk into things on a regular basis. bark and gasp and chatter and laugh out loud. heck i cry when i watch movies or even read the writers’ almanac poem every day. talk to myself. have many expletives. mutter and whisper and gulp and shriek. oh and criticize and complain. and whine. oh can i whine. and sing and hum and do a plethora of sound effects. and make all sorts of silly faces when trying to concentrate.

but worst betrayal of all, i get flustered. nervous and anxious. and embarrassed. oh the horror. the naked vulnerable reality of it all.

spock would be so disappointed in me.

for aspire and practice as i may, i have finally concluded a vulcan i will never ever be.

and so you may gather what you will.

make of all this whatever you choose.

decide for yourself. make up your own mind. pick it all out.

but however it comes together, whatever it means, well.

well well.

take it or leave it. accept or reject it.

this is what there is.

live long and prosper.

posted by: limine at 12:24 | link | comments (12) |

trial

where to begin?

the ending was a wash. damages awarded to our client, but negligence apportioned 50-50. perhaps a bit saddened by our jury though in truth i can not blame them. for it is a product of the all-pervading cynicism in our current culture. denotes a lack of compassion. the practice of assuming the worst in people. to fear each other. mistrust. little faith in their fellow man, and little faith in the judicial system.

we worked so hard. oh how much time and effort went into it, how much was in contention, how we practically had to teach the other side how to prepare for trial and practice law, how to do a trial management order, how to read the court rules, how to properly calculate for deadlines, how to exchange exhibits and when.

of course the judge made some critical errors that will make for a good appeal, if that route is chosen. she also added some humor and excitement when she threw a little temper tantrum. actually, quite a substantial one. she’s the judge and she gets to throw tantrums if she so desires and none of us had ever seen anything like it before. she made quite the scene. and it was something to behold.

and so i guess at some level i’m still arguing. weighing it all. analyzing what happened.

but it’s happened and acceptance is necessary for the time being in order to go forth.

it’s that bit about the fruits of labor. that we have a right to our work. all that we do and how well we do it. but we do not have a right to the results.

and nothing brings that in focus like litigation.

always a gamble. so many factors that can not be ascertained in advance. so many possibilities. chemical reactions. prejudices. underlying issues. complications.

so much work so much effort so much analysis so much background so much paper so many pleadings so many arguments so many deadlines so much correspondence so much investigation and discovery and depositions and records and indexing of documents.

if you only understood law from sitting on a jury or maybe from watching lawyers on tv, you could never understand. if you’ve ever been involved in a lawsuit, not a fun thing, you get a glimmer of it. but you don’t see the actual work and the tedium on tv. the long long stressful hours. those courtroom drama television attorneys man they get a case and they’re just right in to court and the drama soars and wham bam sparks fly and amazing things happen like magic. they don’t show you the one or two or three or four years of work leading up to that moment in court that more often than not, never even happens. they don’t show you why after fifteen years of being a litigation paralegal and working on literally thousands of cases, i have only been to court about a dozen or so times. how much work you do in preparation for a trial that never comes. how so very very little actually gets that far.

still, when i decided to become a paralegal, it was clear that the only way to go for me was litigation. still seem to me to be the real attorneys, in a sense. the ones with cajones. the ones that interpreted the law. artists and theatre performers with brilliant analysis as well as verbal and writing skills. yeah. still have that preference perhaps.

it has been the drama, the trauma, the high adrenalin conflict mania of litigation for me. i wanted to see how arguments and disputes were understood and mediated i wanted to see the inner workings of the actual practice of law. i wanted to witness the crucible of the courtroom. i wanted to watch how the truth would emerge through discovery and analysis.

and so i guess i could say that i’ve seen it all, in some sense. from environmental litigation and then to labor law and worker’s compensation to divorce and custody disputes to medical malpractice to personal injury to business litigation and estate litigation and real estate litigation and patent infringement and intellectual property litigation to civil rights litigation and legal malpractice. worked for both sides of it, plaintiffs and defense. my heart is clearly on the side of the human being, rather than the insurance company or the giant corporation. i like working for the injured party. the party seeking assistance. the ones in need of intervention, law and order, rather than the side with the money and power and attorneys to try to skate around it.

and so.

and so we went to court last week and we did not win. the insurance company did. and of course the jury doesn’t know or even understand that. they are not allowed to, as that would be considered prejudicial for them to know. imagine that.

and i was a bit surprised that as i drove back to the office after the verdict that i broke down in sobs and gasps and gulps.

but it was just the exhale.

the release of all that has been held-in in the months working up to this. it was the dropping of the hyper-vigilant guard. the tension. the long nights and weekends and deadlines and organization and exhibits and details details details and subpoenas and scheduling of witnesses and phone calls and jury instructions and the pressure and the build-up and the complete consumption of focus and worry and all the other deadlines and things going off in other cases, all the daily work that has to get pushed aside a bit, that has to be done in advance, the things that might slip through the cracks, that drive you insane. and truly it was not even that big of a case.

and it is the pantyhose and the indigestion and the parking situation and the getting through the metal detectors and the lines and the crowds and the media there for a high profile criminal case going on at the courthouse and the loading of the boxes and boxes of documents on the wheelies and trundling everything back and forth and the demonstrative brain in a box and the giant posterboard exhibits and doing all this under extreme pressure and keeping up appearances and being there to comfort and calm the client and tell her she’s going to be ok and retrieving witnesses and getting home late at night and checking email at ten only to discover a deadline was missed in another case and everybody’s wound up and scrambling and this undercurrent of panic and the thin veneer of competence and calm awareness pasted over the top is starting to show throw and then and then and then the moment of truth and the jury.

the jury is a toss-up.

probably close to hung, actually, since it took them a very long time to deliberate. and so it was that negligence was determined 50-50. split. divided. a stand-off. culminating in a giant zero in which no one wins and everybody but the insurance company looses. kind of speaks of the whole nation, perhaps, the microcosm within the macrocosm that is the great gaping divide in which we currently find ourselves.

and the judge. we maintain. we prepare. but the judge she throws foaming tantrums and abuses the attorneys and anyone present to endure her wrath over basically nothing. jury instructions are always a bit of an issue, and this case was less complex and had fewer instructions than any other case i’ve ever worked on. probably whatever it was she really had her knickers in a twist about we’ll never know.

and now i feel wobbly in the body. weak in the knees. i’ve slept for two days almost solidly and planning on some more. still can’t quite make a fist. feeling hollow. dehydrated. wiped out.

and the house is dirty. we need groceries. laundry. the cats want attention. the husband is sick of take-out tacos and chinese food. the garden needs attention. there is spring cleaning to be done.

and though it was quite the experience as it always is, it was the build-up, the lead-in to this trial that seemed to be trying to tell me something. it was becoming more and more clear to me that maybe i really need to find another line of work. i kept thinking that i just don’t know if i have the reserves within me to do this again. i had funerals to attend and people to take care of and animals to be seen to and i was wondering if it was all really worth it. if maybe i haven’t learned about all there is for me to learn from this experience and maybe isn’t time to move on and get on with life. real life.

i don’t know.

now that it’s over, i’m almost ready to go back to it. in fact, i’m kind of looking forward to the possibility of the appeal. i care about what happens next. i’m thinking about another trial that may be coming up this summer that should be quite interesting. i like the work that we do, what we stand for, the people we represent and the people i work with. i want to do a good job for them. i want to see some of the other cases play out. i like feeling that we make a difference. that we help people. that for the most part, things are resolved amicably. that conflicts rise and fall and return to rest. that law is symbolic of our honor, our intentions, our civil agreement, a framework for understanding and cooperation and mediation and communication.

i just want to learn how to manage the stress and the workload more efficiently. to conserve energy when possible and be able to have it in reserve for when it is necessary. need more balance. more practice. more patience. more compassion. i want to be able to roll with it better. i want to learn to be more zen about all this. i want to learn from this experience.

perhaps the judge just acted out in her tantrum what i had been feeling. and i do wonder what it would be like to work in a different environment. less emotionally charged. less demanding. less stressful. less pressure. less at stake. less contention. less struggle.


maybe i don’t want to feel like i’m giving up. maybe i want to believe that all this experience is worth something. maybe i’m addicted to the adrenalin. to samsara. to the endless cyclic struggle.

maybe i’m just afraid doing anything else would be boring.

maybe.

but get this. i’ve just received notice that i’ve been called up for jury duty.

have to appear at the same court in two weeks.

cosmic joke? justice or karma?

you be the judge.

posted by: limine at 11:53 | link | comments (9) |

in the midst

can you feel it?

there is something about this last bit of winter before the spring. you can feel the tornadoes brewing. plants are ready to burst through the surface. one day it snows and the next day it’s too hot for this sweater. cabin fever. spring fever. the time change. light growing and shifting. everything is itchy and twitchy and ready to break out of the ice and tear into the light of the warming sun. clouds swelling with rain. electricity. the time of mud and wind and thunder. the straining labor pains of pent-up stored-up hormones and gametes and bulbs and roots and seeds and buds and eggs. the end of hibernation. everything is pacing in its cage waiting for spring to be unleashed upon the world. it is the buildup. the anticipation. the struggling waiting waiting hoping waiting waxing towards the full moon.

we are waiting for the resurrection. the eternal return. the completion of the cycle. the screaming kicking painful swift imminent birth of the wild ram. the revolution of the earth. the circle of life.

well it is almost here. you can smell it. practically taste it. the times they are a-changing. the tides are turning. the seasons melding mixing morphing. the perspective is shifting.

it’s just before the wake-up time.

squabbling and worrying and everybody’s planning spring break vacations and busy so busy so slammed at work. a trial approaching in april. chaos and grief. and in the midst of so much stress so much work so much worry about my own petty stuff my best friend’s dad died on the same day on the anniversary on the same day my favorite crazy aunt died on the same day the anniversary on the same day my close dear wonderful friend mentor holy man father brother santa claus on vacation counselor shaman buddy died. beware the ides of march for they are upon us.

the last cold grip of wiinter takes another life as the push of spring prepares to give birth.

round and round we go.

yeah and so also going on also did the boulder county assembly. oh the comedy. the slow and messy running behind schedule committee participation herding cats sort of tangled chaos that is this most lovable and cherished aspect of democracy. speeches and protocol and parliamentary parlez-vous mental break-downery procedure of ayes and nays and seconds and everybody’s got ideas and instructions and opinions and convictions and concerns and what a turn-out what a tremendous and amazing fiasco of harmony and cooperation and egos and personalities in search of a common ground a connection a love a bridge a compromise a truth an awareness a mutual path of all the hearts combined towards the ever elusive victory in which love conquers all and the universe is made safe for democracy and everybody feels that they’ve been heard and done their best and all the best interests of our brothers and sisters have been looked after and the world will be a better place because of all the time and effort and hard work and volunteers in tightly packed auditoriums and gymnasiums and libraries and schools all poured into one giant conglomeration for the meeting of hearts and minds running just a couple minutes a half an hour an hour two hours almost three hours behind schedule with guest speakers and man that was an entire saturday but somebody’s got to clean up the massive wallpapering of all the hillary placard poster sticker tree-killing littering every nook and cranny in the place. the place was utterly coated in hillary junk but boulder county went i think the final tally was something like 76 or 78 percent obama, yeah.

should have gone into work on sunday. so much work to do trials to prepare for witnesses to subpoena and records to gather and exhibits to organize and trial management orders to agree upon and expert reports submitted and investigators to be called in and jury notebooks to be made and there will have to be artwork and presentations and additional materials and prep time set aside and meanwhile the rest of all the other cases are going on and deadlines are going off and there are eulogies to write and funerals to attend and people to take care of and family crises in the works and a niece threatening to move out her house and in with us and the cats are climbing the furniture tearing at the curtains to get outside and throw themselves on the grass and get into fights with other cats over their territory which suddenly needs additional defending and gardens to weed and clean and prepare and oh the dust and the dirt and the buildup and the need for spring cleaning and sweeping out of the old leaves and friends coming down from the mountains for the equinox celebration and the inevitable family easter dinner happy feuding families with potentially new moved-in visiting boyfriends and chocolate bunnies and deviled eggs and oh dear lord but i do need to mop this floor and so on we go and here come and there it goes and oh can you feel it?

the sun will return. the hemisphere will heat up. the flowers will bloom.

oh the great build-up. the pressure. the inevitability. will we make it?

on the brink. at the edge.

the tibetans break out ahead of it all and they rise up. they speak out. oh china china china. not looking too good these days. no. looking pretty darn bad, truth be told. serious lack of wisdom and judgment. you’ve just got to know that nobody is buying the ridiculous idea that his holiness the dalai lama has or ever would ever ever ever advocate violence. even karl rove would have to admit there’s no way to spin this one for china. better not hurt those people. you can close off the internet and shut out the public and we know what you’re trying to hide as fast as you can. we cry for them we worry we pray we can only imagine the worst and most horrible things are happening to the tibetans who dared to stand in their own truth to stand up to tyranny and oppression to speak their own truth which maybe conflicts with how it is to be exploited and used but it is their own and it has been for many years and it has not subsided it can not be squelched it has not been conquered they have never given up they have never stopped trying they are standing up they are straining they are suffering they have had enough. oh china. it’s time to wake up. time to grow up. time to realize you can not sweep this one under the rug. the more you try to keep it secret and manipulate the reality, the more powerful the truth becomes.

and that’s the thing about truth maybe. it will out, as they say. yeah i think it will.

just like flowers in the spring.

yeah and so obama. as if there was ever any doubt. not for me, i guess. i knew it on contact. perhaps that is the way it is for those of us labeled as bobble heads. but regardless of what happens whether or not we manage to do the right thing truly this speech will be read and re-read and read aloud. it will be taught in history and speech and theatre and civics. we will remember what he said what he tried to do how he addressed it how he faced it head on what he said how he did it. now it is clear. can it really happen? so you know they come at him they scream they sensationalize they grip onto this like they’ve finally finally FINALLY got something on him. and they snap and they snarl and the hate spews and the lines are drawn and the sickness is spreading and the yellow waxy buildup and so he stands up. he speaks. he doesn’t scream or blame the media or point fingers or say shame on you shame on you. nope. he takes it on. on himself. he looks within. he doesn’t even argue with it. he simply speaks. he says what it is. what it’s all about. he is calm. he is wise. he is thoughtful. and he lays it all on the line. he says you guys want to hold me responsible take me down run me down because of a few extreme statements of my firey pastor well let me explain it all for you. let me draw you a picture. let me tell you about what it is to be me, where i came from, how i came to be who i am. let me show you something. and in the midst of this dirt storm tornado of hate and race and fear and pointing fingers and self-righteous indignation and spin and media sensationalization he is nothing but the picture of sheer and utter grace and eloquence. i mean he’s got a ten or twenty headed fire breathing dragon coming at him and he says ok let’s look within and figure this out together. let’s take a look. a closer look. let’s try to understand in order to forgive and get beyond this great impasse. let’s try to see how we must work together try to bridge the gap. reconcile the divide. let’s just look into this. let’s acknowledge what we got going on here. let’s start to examine where all this stuff is leading us. let’s take responsibility for ourselves for our future for our children for our perception for our ignorance for our fears for our hopes and dreams and let’s do the right thing. and can this magnificent speech clear up all the fear and hate and anger and wave it all away magically? oh it would be lovely but of course not. but who else has dared to stare it in the face so and speak out? and where else can we begin? where it goes what we do with it how it is used well you see the rest is up to us. he’s willing to help us. he’s trying to take responsibility. and he’s asking us to do the same. there is a choice to be made. a path to take.

and yes it’s just words.

words. words. words.

only words.

like all the opinions and articles and reports and editorials and comments. only words.

like the constitution. only words. declaration of independence? words. pledge of allegiance? oaths? statutes? philosophy? literature and law and history and the whole of human discourse? words. only words.

or like the authorization for the use of military force in iraq. only words.

the arbitrary labels and sounds and symbols and signs given to all that we feel the need to try to communicate. that’s all. just words.

the anniversary of the iraq war. five long years. and what have we got? and at what cost? how many lives how great the sacrifice how can it end how did this happen where is our conscience who will guide us out of this darkness and into the light?

yeah maybe something’s happening. the spring is coming. a new day. a new way. a new focus.

deep in the earth, out of the compost of all our past karma will grow into the future that we are about to create.

can you feel it?

will we take care? will we listen to our hearts? will we do the right thing? will we be able to recognize it?

this time. this amount of time. what to do within the time available. these things that happen. these lives these identities this creation and destruction and all this. all of this. and oh the comings and goings into and out of existence and all these intersections and juxtapositions and combinations and possibilities and chemical reactions and movement movement movement so much movement and so much chaos so much change and yet there is this continuity for the moment within this perception there is a sense of all that which endures what lives in memories what is held in the heart and felt and smelled and grasped and released and eaten and wasted and what is chosen and what is discarded and what is found and what is lost and what is saved.

the return of the sun. the warming. the greening.

and old life ends.

a new life begins.

we are what we are.

in the midst.

posted by: limine at 18:43 | link | comments (5) |

dancing

TODAY

I
Do not
Want to step so quickly
Over a beautiful line on Beloved's palm
As I move through the earth's
Marketplace
Today.

I do not want to touch any object in this world
Without my eyes testifying to the truth
That everything is
My Beloved.

Something has happened
To my understanding of existence
That now makes my heart always full of wonder
And kindness.

I do not
Want to step so quickly
Over this sacred place on Beloved's body
That is right beneath my
Own foot

As I
Dance with
Precious life
Today.

~Hafiz


Responsibility does not only lie with the leaders of our countries or with those who have been appointed or elected to do a particular job. It lies with each of us individually. Peace, for example, starts within each one of us.

~His Holiness the Dalai Lama



Without the rigidity of concepts, the world becomes transparent and illuminated, as though lit from within. With this understanding, the interconnectedness of all that lives becomes very clear. We see that nothing is stagnant and nothing is fully separate, that who we are, what we are, is intimately woven into the nature of life itself. Out of this sense of connection, love and compassion arise.

~Sharon Salzberg



(today's daily dharma message, buddhist wisdom quote and living compassion quote -- all dancing together.)

posted by: limine at 07:53 | link | comments (5) |

what stays in vegas

and so. there we were.

the low-budget white trash wing of the tropicana in vegas. oh yeah.

the elevator looked like it had recently been used to film a high action crime scene.

to be fair, we were tired. we got in quite late. a big weekend. valentine’s day president’s day february madness kind of time. and it was all a cheap-ish promotional sort of deal. and this was vegas so i guess they saw us coming. whatever. it is what it is and was what it was and this thing this old hotel on hotel monstrosity strip was built in 1957 and shows its age. a little worse for its wear and tear perhaps. dinge and mange. lots of mirrors and flashing lights to distract you from the stains in the carpet. the cracks in the wall. kind of an elegantly wasted keith richards kind of feel you know. fold-up take-out pizza menus kept sliding magically under the door at odd hours of the night.

yeah so we got the room with a trap door in the wall that wouldn’t quite shut fully and you could see into something dark and dusty inside the wall. the shower was alternately scalding hot and ice cold. and the adjoining room next door -- the one that connects through a couple thin and flimsy doors? heard their entire inane conversation. oh and no internet access in that particular “wing” of that fine establishment. it had been temporarily disabled but upgrades were available and i could take that up with the front desk if i was interested but budget is as budget does and what the heck were in vegas for a purpose and we had to get in and get out in a fairly short essentially 36-48 hour amount of time.

kind of funny really because i was all ready to be overwhelmed and dazzled maybe even slightly intimidated by the great glam and sparklies and wattage. heh. and there i was in the white trash wing of the tropicana on the strip and well frankly well honestly well truth be told i was not impressed.

although maybe it was really just my attitude. it was not the best upon arrival after the long drive.

the last time we were in las vegas was about 15-16 years ago. we had stopped by after a long road trip on the motorcycle coming from california crossing death valley in one hundred seven degree heat in full leather gear arriving in a ball of sweat and dust and finding the place truly to be a strange and psychedelic though oddly highly welcome oasis in the desert where we actually won a bunch of money playing our alloted amount to spend our total of thirty bucks on dollar slots and we walked away with about thirteen hundred in about twenty minutes and high-tailed out of there on the bike to see the grand canyon. so it was a pleasant but distant memory you know. not my style really but up for an adventure and open to possibility.

but that was a different time. a different trip. and this time i had brought along with me a different sort of attitude perhaps.

see maybe there’s some part of me that believes that room that place that environment was punishment for some previous unsightly behavior earlier in the day. some sort of instant karmic slap for being a needlessly nervous navigator. well it was one thing after another. panicked and jammed and slammed at work in a scramble to do it all get it all done ahead just to take a little time off of work. didn’t sleep the night before. making lists and worrying and leaving messages and left late and went the slow rush hour way instead of the pretty slightly longer but faster moving mountain way to get to I-70 but nobody would listen or mind my directions no oh no.

and then we got stuck in the bottleneck of the great long weekend ski commute. and icy roads.

and well i was not exactly a model passenger on takeoff day. no. no i was not. i was nervous. i read all the warning signs aloud. falling rocks and watch for bighorn sheep and lights on for the tunnel and no passing and fines doubled for speeding and construction two miles ahead and icy conditions and the fifty minute wait outside of the tunnel to vail. i worried about the condition of the roads. the air in the tires. the quality of the gas at the last stop. i was concerned we might hit deer. i thought we should change lanes. i reached over and flicked the windshield wipers on and off a couple of times.

needless to say this helpful gesture was not exactly appreciated. no it was not.

but still and all the drive was magnificent. and while everyone else flew there and they thought we were insane for doing the ten-hour drive and perhaps we were and we’ll let them think that because they’ll never understand but that drive was lovely and spectacular. rocks and rocks and rocks. I-70 over the divide and through the mountains and down into the rocks and reefs and formations of utah. a magical journey through petroglyphs and caves and ruins and mesas and painted soft rainbow foothills and red stones and arches and canyons and gulleys. layers and layers of sediment and colors and more layers and waves and washes and swooshes and rocks and colors and formations and layers and time and colors and rocks and colors and rocks and sky.

we went down a funnel down a shoot down a rabbit hole from home to vegas in a great little downward drain spiral on a curved arch pavement ribbon. the signs start telling you once you get past vail how many hundred miles it is to vegas. forget about the entire state of utah in between man. if you’re in this stream if you’re on this road if you’re heading west on i-70 out of colorado you must be heading to vegas and the signs begin to point you in right away.

so i guess it was maybe my karmic reward. the moment of truth. i was truly challenged to make the best of this situation. but could it be done? would we make it? would we kill each other before we pulled our tiny little economy good gas mileage vehicle into the seven thousand watt clam shell mirrored mermaid covered valet parking station?

though i don’t think it was really just that room. motels are creepy places anyway. full of strange and weird and unsettled energy. and it was vegas.

sleaze and cheese and clouds of cigarette smoke and mirrors and ring ding ding whoop whoop racketa racketa ching ching ching sounds with muffled loud music blasting through speakers and promotions and flyers and long lines for big buffets and cocktail waitresses in high heels and bell hops and men with big jewelry and women with lots of makeup and flashing lights chasing strings of lights everywhere and swim up backjack in the pool and fat bellies in tropical print shirts and purple and red carpeting and mermaids and fishes and clam shells in the mirrored ceiling and shrimp cocktails and rhinestone charm bracelets and turquoise and magenta flowered wallpaper trim.

and we’re well we’re just we’re from colorado, see. snowboots and wool sweaters and cookie packages we brought our own big K brand carbonated water in a cooler in the crusty but clean little economy car in the valet parking lot. a couple of low budget bumpkins bumbling around in the midst of this spectacular display of distraction. have to say if planned out better with actual forethought, it could be a great place to see some shows.

but we were there for a reason.

it was vegas with a purpose.

for we had come for a wedding. an event. a shrek sort of cartoon fairy tale medieval-esque wedding.

a good friend of mine has in some way managed to embrace her inner fiona as we say. she has finally found such a good guy. and he loves her. he appreciates the magnificence of all that she is which truly involves a certain amount of energy and how does he do it we really don’t quite know but he does he really does love her and it really is an animated greeting card soul mate sort of deal. this is i think though not entirely sure but there is an actual count i think and it is her fourth marriage but third wedding not counting those other two situations or something like that and yet oh yes she is a princess and she’s never stopped never gave up filled the backyard and the storage shed and the garage up with rejects but she kept waiting she kept trying she kept searching she stayed shopping she continued waiting for her prince charming. she never doubted his arrival one day.

and get this check it out no kidding but the thing is he finally showed.

he really did.

and so of course they did this at the excalibur. across the street connected by some over-the-highway type of built-in walkway from our little tropicana paradise to some kind of pasteboard castle place with big turrets. had to dress up too. oh yes. wedding done in full princess and knight gear. and then we got to join the gang for some sort of rubber chicken dinner pasta primavera vegetarian option doing shots of tequila someone ate my little pre-microwaved desert pastry deal extravaganza with horses and swords and jousting in an overly choreographed brightly colored highly scripted albeit tightly run dusty arena family dinner theatre type of AAA roadside rated situation. yee-hah.

oh my friend my good strange sometimes oddly close friend. my friend from work from the big law firm from seven years ago. my every week for six years one lunch a week therapy comedy show type of girlfriend chatter support and argument regular rhythmic part of the work week. she got married. yeah and i even cried and drizzled actual mascara on my velveteen renaissance-ish bluey green dress.

i mean that day that wedding day it was not so bad. we fiddled around a bit. we explored. we had omelets and muffins and salad bar sour domestic champagne buffet and we went to see the titanic exhibit at our hotel we looked at lots of old damaged sad rusty stuff dug up from that cold underwater grave picked apart and reassembled and displayed for everyone to marvel at. it was an exhibit. it was history. it was educational. it was really kind of strange and creepy and more than a little morbid and odd and eery and bizarre and i truly wondered why it cost so much but this was vegas and somehow looking a bunch of old rusty shipwreck junk in an exhibition hall all made sense.

i mean, we had time to kill. and i bought a refrigerator magnet and some dice shaped lollipops that said sin-city suckers on the tags. yeah.

time in limbo before the wedding before the great event before the moment i had to squish myself into that dress and put on actual semi-acceptable shoes and take the great walkway over to the cartoon castle to witness the sacred vows.

something about a declaration of love before friends and family. something about that saying this is the one this is the person that sweet sweet look into the eyes that promise that hope those rings on the fingers that kiss that ceremony that dance those good intentions and love and vows and stand up and sit down and walk and pose for the pictures and snap and flash and snap flash leave quickly before the next wedding is seated out the backdoor down the hallway through the alternative reality portal and wham bam back into the casino with coupons for free games in the family faire area.

well we lost them after the dusty jousting dinner. there were too many of us. it was too loud. we were traveling as a group in a pack it was crowded we had to go back to the hotel had to change back to wearable clothing had to become comfortable had to stop off and gamble a bit under the big blue motorcycle on a rotating pedestal and have a frozen fru-fru strawberry margarita in a giant pink and blue souvenir hurricane glass and well it was their wedding night after all and it had been a long day a very long day with a buffet breakfast and the rusty titanic stuff and a wedding and jousting and everything so we staggered back across the walkway over the highway into our strange dingy motel room and that didn’t seem so bad after all and we looked out the little balcony into the unnaturally lush enclosed garden paradise courtyard with a trickling waterfall and planned our immediate morning exit strategy.

for the next day the very next day we headed out of that sweet sad strange and sordid bachanalia blitz and back into the rocks. back into the rocks and the sky and into zion into southern utah into ancient indian lands and it was cold but sunny and clear and the snow was on the ground but not the roads and the air was clear and the flash and the glare of the electric lights were finally gone and the clouds were few and the rocks were red and grey and green and pink and orange and we left that big glittering vegas cloud of cigarette smoke behind us in the desert and we could breathe again. and then we were free.

and a big bald eagle flew us in guided us right into a little side trip to a fremont indian who the heck was fremont and who cares village canyon bunch of beautiful and interesting petroglyphs where a great ancient village was torn out in 1982 to make way for I-70 for the great funnel into vegas and so we stopped to see the markings read the signs pay our respects and so.

and so my friend is married happily ever after and i am no longer the official dating consultant she has moved to denver she has a different job she is not in boulder anymore we don’t do lunch every week we email a bit she is busy i am busy they have bought furniture together they got married in vegas and we went to explore southern utah and i hope we don’t completely lose contact but you never know you just never know but i’m glad we went and i know she’s happy and she will always stay in my heart and there’s more there’s so much more but i guess maybe i guess that’s why they say i guess you can’t really put it all into words i guess that’s basically what it is i guess i mean maybe i know it feels like valentine's day red foil cards and hearts and candy and that's what they say you know it's just what stays in vegas.

posted by: limine at 23:22 | link | comments (4) |

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