Adrift With Wild Horses

“Why couldn’t two unhappy people refresh each other on their way through this dusty business of life by a little talk—real, natural talk, about what they felt, what they would have liked, what they still tried to hope?” ~ Elizabeth von Arnim

“Writing is very hard mostly because until you try to write something down, it’s easy to fool yourself into believing you understand things. Writing is terrible for vanity and self-delusion.” ~ Mark Vonnegut

“Who but a brazen crazy person would go one-on-one with blank paper or canvas armed with nothing but ideas?” ~ Mark Vonnegut

Lap cat and ringing ears, good coffee and coyote songs. Not a bad morning, if I do say so myself. More often than not Sunday’s run from dreary to painfully depressing for me. That’s a harsh spectrum. To approach this condition with a rational outlook is a noble yet often futile endeavor. Heroic even. I’m not into that today. If for some strange reason I do become rational, for any length of time, I will welcome that level of clarity. But I plan on following the intuitive path – if I can find it. So, here’s the plan. Breakfast at the Taos Diner, where Sunday mornings are marked by a large gathering of locals, creating a crowd that likely sounds with more that a murmur. You can get one of the best breakfast burritos around, and you can be seen as well. I sometimes get the impression that being seen . . . ummmm, let’s not go there this morning. Being cynical comes somewhat natural to me. It can be a gift, but not usually. The political climate, in these days that seem like years, can smack you around with ambient cynicism. And, by the way . . . the president must be impeached. That is all I will say about that. Anyway . . . after breakfast should be a nice long walk out on the West Rim trail, in the Rio Grande del Norte National Monument. In my imagination I am flirting with the idea of walking being an expression of philosophy. There’s some French guy who wrote a whole book about the philosophy of walking. I have not read it. But it is on my list. Lately I have begun rereading Christopher O’Brien’s lovely explorations of the weirdo woo woo paranormal stuff that goes on in this San Luis Valley. I first read that book last century. Can you believe it? I actually bought it from a revolving display of pulp paperback books, within weeks of my arrival in Taos. Turns out my learning of just how weird this place is was a blessing. Taos is in the southern tip of the valley. I’ve been feeling a mild hankering for a trip up to San Luis, just north of the border. Mostly for the drive and the spectacular scenery, but I could swing by the dispensary; maybe buy a pack of Willy’s (Nelson) pre-rolls. You never know. With any kind of luck at all I might see wild horses up at the border. That time I slowed to a stop in the middle of the highway and the horses surrounded my car was a blast. That, my friends, was magical. Those noble beasts, there at the border . . . I don’t know . . . there’s some kind of metaphor in there somewhere. Anyway, there is always a chance that I might blow off the plans I have for today. That’s an artifact of depression: it’s either what’s the use or I’m afraid or isn’t there something more responsible that needs doing. Listen, there is nothing more responsible than taking care of your health – especially your mental health. Depression and PTSD are anchors that need to be yanked from the sea floor on occasion, to open the way for a bit of drifting and adventure. The concept of being set adrift upon the sea seems to have such dire connotations, but I am having none of that today. I’ll drift if I damn well please. Goddess knows I’ve done enough of that already in my life, and when you’ve had enough of something any more than that is a bonus, a ticket to freedom. Hmmm, I hear that breakfast is the most important meal of the day. Yeh, maybe. My thoughts are more of an image of an introvert in the midst of a crowd of people at the hotspot for Sunday breakfast a qui en Taos. It would be nice to have the companionship of a woman I know but that ain’t on the menu today. That thought makes me smile anyway. And the day begins now.

Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.

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