Running to the Mountain
Tuesday 2/18
I fell asleep last night in front of the fireplace, reading Jon Katz’s “Running to the Mountain.” I’ve been reading Katz for several years, in Wired, Hotwired, Slashdot. I’ve also read his cyber treatise “Virtuous Reality,” When I saw that he’d written a “midlife crises” book about buying a dilapidated house atop a mountain in upstate New York, I knew I had to check it out. I’ve been having similar thoughts recently, that there has to be more to it than this. I don’t know that I’d call it a crisis. My sense of deferred gratification is too strong to let midlife derail it. But my “midlife incident” has me looking wistfully in the News Sentinel’s real estate section each weekend, lusting after that perfect mountain retreat. The one that is at least 50 acres, has a good, clear-running stream and a few ponds. Ideally, it will back up to some wildlife management area so subdivisions can’t find me, and it will be within a reasonable drive of town. I’m just not certain I want it to be in Tennessee. There’s much to love in Tennessee, but a few days back in New Mexico have definitely turned my head. The West is the best. At least for me. But how to live here and make a living?
I woke up after midnight, the fire mere embers and a pattering on the roof. At first, I thought it was a tree scratching the cabin in the wind. But then I came to realize it was rain. It’s still raining softly this morning as I write this. The day is overcast. It’s prefect, really. A nice space to collect my thoughts before I check out and head down to Albuquerque for meals with old friends. Tomorrow I fly out to L.A. on business. I’m trying to keep that in the background. Deep background. I have one more day. But one of the dreams I remember last night was that my Blackberry wouldn’t stop buzzing with incoming e-mails. I’d driven back into town, and there was so much e-mail flooding the device that it vibrated constantly, overflowing with information and needy demands that had accumulated over the 48 hours or so that I’d been off the cyber grid.
Even after running to Jemez Mountain, I haven’t been able to exorcise work from my mind. It’s always there. Maybe that’s a good thing. But my brief stay in the Jemez has been refreshing. It’s not surprising that the Buddhists and Catholics have chosen this place for retreats. Or the lumberjacks at Los Ojos, for that matter.
Posted by Bob Benz at February 20, 2003 12:09 AM