Saturday, March 7

Levente's in town from Budapest. Today we tire of the suburban apartment and drive to Lyons to sit in the Barking Dog. It's been months since I was here. I reflect that things were better before I got it into my head to move into Boulder, away from the foothills and the elk and the dead grass and whatnot. Not in fact because I immediately lost my crappy job and my woman lost her mind and her interest in me, or any of that, but because somehow it was another movement away from a life I understood & wanted.

My working theory of the structure of life is that lots of us — maybe even most of us who live in a country like this one and have the social capital to go off to college or whatever — will accidentally encounter conditions that feel right and good, or at least Real, and under which we seem to express the best versions of ourselves. And it is natural to say well, I've encountered the Good Life now. Things will be different. I am my real self, I am more or less fully alive, and this simple discovery will animate the remainder of my days.

And then, of course, just as accidentally, the conditions of life change.