August 9. Vacation helps to balance my perspective. Working every day, I have a tendency to get tunnel vision, seeing work and the demands of clients as the only things I need to attend to. After a few days on vacation, I come out of the tunnel and see the whole world before me. I told Cathy in Santa Fe we should have a two year plan. The goal would be to own property in Santa Fe and to be able to move there if we choose. How?!
August 11. Looking out to the west on rain drenched streets. Even though the west is clear, major clouds are off to the east and the morning is dark, making it look like dusk or dawn. I can't see which way the clouds are going, but I look up and see that some have disappeared, making orientation very difficult (have the clouds moved or is that cloud just different?). The only place the sun is shining is far off to the west on the mountains.
I have lived here off and on for twenty years, 14 straight since I graduated from law school. I lived in California for 18 years (25 counting school). Do I know this place? Is it in my blood? I know the history that has passed since I've been here and I know the area, yet I'm not sure that I am a part of it. (I'm thinking, hurry up and do my writing before the sun comes out!).
I pray for the wisdom and courage to make the right decisions. This morning is the first time I've thought to pray for the grace to know what I want (and what is best for our family).
Much is being written now about the 60's. Perhaps I should begin to write something. What would I say? "Ten at the outset, twenty at the close. The early 60's are a blur, the last years vividly etched in my mind." I was speaking to Tara the other day and she was telling us how California could get so gloomy, especially when it rained so much one winter. I said, "1969?" She thought for a moment and said, "Yes, how did you know? Were you depressed too?"
August 12. Saturday. I told myself I would just sit with this open page before me for two hours, but then the duties and the obligations start pushing themselves in on my brain: don't forget you need to work on fee disputes; tax return too; my God, your billable hours are slipping, you'll never catch up, you'd better start now; start working on your class preparation; don't forget to get the book on garage bookshelves. Did the apartments sell? How am I going to have enough money to go around this payday, will we get paid? Ayyee!!!
When I think of writing my book or story, I can only think of one character, me. Will I ever be able to create anything more than a foil for my own development? Perhaps. First things first.
CHAPTER 1. WHO I AM. I am a child of the mid-century. I have had a feeling for quite some time that I am different. To all outward appearances I am just like everyone else, and maybe I am. I wanted to begin by saying I grew up in the 60's, but I'm not grown up, that's the reason for this book. Lately it occurred to me that I am at last growing up in the late 80's. Do I have a spiritual sickness which I must treat or am I just restless? Am I in pain or simply bored?
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