in home, briefly.  What does he do?  Sip Chardonnay, brainstorm.  How to build this business… with words.  Use what you have… wine. Teaching.  The Chard I’m sipping now, ’14 Sonoma Coast, Roth of course, telling me to not think about anything.  But rather, imagine.  Delight in rich daydream.. which I’m now doing. Seeing Self with family on back deck of the Carmel house, listening to ocean, in front of fire pit (yes I want one of those at the house), just focusing on moment.  So now, here at the Autumn Walk Studio, I do the same.  Me, on couch, legs crossed– and I confess I write this on my phone, which I hate.  Chardonnay calls me.  Says it has something else to show me.  “What?” I beg.  “Take a sip and I’ll show you.” She says.  I do.  See me running, on mile 5, looking out at the waves as I try to lower my per-mile, see a gull playing with some plants that ashore bumbled.  “You’re almost there.” She says.

Again focusing on and appreciating how zen-soaked the Studio is.  Even when wife and babies get back, I’ll force myself to see it the same.  What to now do, go outside and have some red, watch the neighbors’ kids be kids and play freely, immune to obligation and grownup restriction… freely about the block with mechanized vessels and t-ball stands, bats and balls and other stuff that was not around when I was a kid– yes I’m at that age.  But fighting reality is senseless.  Embrace, and reverse- or re-engineer where beckoned.

Now daddy sees.  Everything.  Quiet is cure.