Hocus of the Highest Pocus

Another classic DM line, along with the usual jiggery-pokery and the like.  One to remember though, as it has its own unique ring to it.

Lazy Sunday, and a weekend of watching Arsenal not lose to City and dreaming up escape plans on the Iphone.  You wonder about coincidence, not actually landing on the Cuba trip with Rhonda's help on the storm day, then Marble being closed just that one week early and Mom announcing her own St. John's Easter plans.  Leaving a birthday weekend and a miraculous flight down to one of the fine regattas in the world where you would need to pass through absolutely were you to put the Caribbean sailing plan into action.  One room left at the inn offering assurances of reasonable room and board, the parties and history and rum and diving tempting as well, with a little NYC into the mix for an additional Cinco de Mayo laugh.  What's not to like?

The case has been made, I guess.  After Cozumel, and Coachella, and the Derby, and due consideration to San Juan, Bahamas, and Trinidad, you are left with an option that hilariously takes off and returns via Moncton, of all places.  Will it be snapped up and form part of the grand story, or will it be discarded along with all the other planned trips-not-taken? 

Should know tonight.  And if so it will be a short and sweet 30 days of dreaming via St. John's and Moncton weekend trips, to motivate you out of bed and into the exercise and healthy eating and productive work routine that has been absent since the Jamaican return.  That is so often absent, to be frank, but what can you do?

Wondering, dreaming, scheming and the like.  What else?  The world is out there to see and it is so easy to see it.  Just a credit card and a click away, it seems.  It will be interesting indeed to see if the case has been made.  And so, we walk over to another hour of Nidra relaxation with an added sense of interest as to how the most recent gambit has been / will be received.  To see whetehr the weekend's efforts in planning were fruitful or not. 

Stay tuned.  Time will show.

Foundations

I'm tired, he said.  I'm sick, he said.  I'm bored, he said.  I'm done, he said.

Wait, he said.  Patience, he said.  "Soon come", he said.

Okay, he sighed. 

And so on, and so forth, and so beautiful, and so what.  The way of overcoming the monotony without succumbing to depression is to plan and dream of the future.  Of the days that will be worth remembering, rather than this tedium.  Actively choosing a life, rather than settling for this path of least resistance and effort and confrontation.

It has been that kind of week.  The release of the COSS decision reiterating the status quo, picking up none of the comments or arguments and essentially rendering that work useless in the grand scheme.  All the worry over the quality of testimony and witness prep and the like - for nought.  And so you move on to the next pieces of argument in the long list.  And with no sense of the cause except to set up your own future.

Call tomorrow on the never-ending arbitration to set a schedule for a fight that is only ever about egos and money, but which should at least be resolved from your end by the time Brazil kicks off.  Though first a call on the cost of pollution analysis, another in the line of ongoing matters from way back when that is still unresolved and with no good answers.  Add to that a weekend of work to refine the explanation of a complex royalty regulation battle, also over just money (of course), and to develop written arguments for the LRT response that will read in years hence as almost utterly devoid of meaning to your spirit and purpose.  It has been a good trade-off over the years, money for blocks of time and words, but there is no escaping the conclusion that a more conclusive ending is coming.

It will be a different St. Pat's this year as a result of this work that has emerged of a sudden.  Fitting after last year's madness and downward spiral to the lowest of points in the aftermath.  Don the green jacket and think with optimism while you drink the early morning breakfast Guinnui, of next year at the same time, and what schemes you will have concocted that may be waiting for you then.  As you return to the office for calls about LRTs and surplus power sales and other things, which matter little.

Because it is a year or so, always a year.  About a year to get ready and to start getting serious with the savings and the preparations.  To pack in the memories of a summer on the water, of newborns, and the most epic of itineraries through a Brazilian World Cup that promises to be oh-so-special and kindle the fire of departure that has been brewing.

Necessity, Nick said, quite rightly, about what it takes to succeed in business.  You need to be hungry and driven and interested.  I have none of those qualities at present.  I'm off to yoga now, the foundations class, my second class in memory and tribute to vows made by the Ganges.  Let the mind wander as it will.  The day will come when you escape again, and then the day will come when you return with new plans and the like.  I know it aye.  Until those lofty points, get a solid rest tonight, wake up early and attack this office and the work to come with some enthusiasm.  Actually set out to write about the Montreal trip with the family that passed so excellently, and of green bikinis shining in the neon lights of the Prince Street pool, and donairs with Red Stripe and mediocre Kevin Spacey, and Friday cooking attempts to come, but no matter.  Those, too, are memories of the past to guide the present toward the more perfect outcome.  Go enjoy, and remember the mantra.

The twin goals of joy and peace.