It is an adjustment, being back here. Instead of no time and an overload of human contact, busily scurrying through days filled with meetings and conferences, I am suddenly in a vacuum of ample time and minimal company during the day.

I did get a ray of sunshine on my doorstep this morning. Two songbirds unexpectedly appeared from their new habitat up in Canada. Welcome back! I can only infer that they missed me so much that they dashed southwards as soon as I came home. Well, that's my theory anyway.

But the working alone and not being buried in slipping deadlines has meant that I have been drowning my friends in e-mails and phonecalls. I realized that this morning, and am consciously taking a step back.

Besides, what is the point of having a lot of time for yourself if you don't use it for yourself?

And with that, he went out biking again. Having blissfully forgotten the aches and pains that he experienced after yesterday's biking expedition.

I have discovered that my quadriceps are a few numbers too big. Not only does my circulation have a big problem pumping enough blood into them when I am working out, but when they really take off, the rest of my body can't keep up.

After blogging my Deep Thought Of The Day (or Month) earlier today, my mind was racing. So I decided to go out and bike it off. Big mistake. Overenthusistic biking after more than a month's hiatus yielded disastrous results. I came back an hour later somewhat dizzy, my back aching, face sunburnt, knees fuming and hands trembling. Only the blessed quadriceps said "Come on! Whatsamatterwithya! Keep going, you lazy gits!" Understandably, my thighs are now the least popular among my body parts.

The toes still reign supreme: Always calm and composed, neatly laid out, keeping the rest of the body in balance.

OK, I need to go to bed.

While on my trip, I got a call from an old colleague of mine. He wanted to "do lunch".

I had almost forgotten how attorneys "do lunch". I haven't practiced law in almost five years, and the mellow world of consulting had dulled the memory of it.

First of all, you show up late.
Secondly, you arrive talking on your cell phone. Throughout the meal, the phone should ring constantly. A sidenote on the phone etiquette: Answer each call with snyde remarks or ironfisted arguments, delivered with malevolence. Every call must end in a "victory", preferably leaving someone maimed, somewhere.
Thirdly, strive to show how much better you are doing in the rat race than your lunch company is. Talk about the length of your new boat. Your newest SUV. Your big summer house.
And finally: Just, whatever you do, do not talk about how you are feeling. I mean really feeling. No talking about your dreams, your anxieties or, God forbid, your love. Don't mention your children, except in passing, and never, ever admit that you would really like to spend more time with them.

In short, be the cold, heartless bastard that people expect a trial lawyer to be. Because how else can you protect yourself from those that are out to get you?

Yes, how indeed.

First off, it has to be said that there are many fields of the law where practicing does not require abandoning your humanity. You have these more tranquil spaces where court battles resemble tea parties. At least compared to where the stakes are routinely high.

This colleague of mine commented that I seemed to have lost my ruthlessness. I don't think he meant that as a complement. The remark was delivered in a sad tone, almost with remorse. I kind of shrugged it off at the time, but it got me thinking.

And I have been thinking about it.

Maybe I have changed. At least I would like it if it meant that fewer people think I am a cold-hearted bastard. Yes, I have done things in the past, especially professionally, which I probably would do differently today. But why?

I didn't have time until now to figure this out. This morning when I woke up, with a slight touch of hangover, it dawned on me, I think.

I have, probably mostly unconsciously, stopped bothering with people that are bad. Yes, I know. No-one is all-bad. And I totally believe that (note that I did not believe that a few years ago). I need to believe that. But I mean 'bad' as in 'having seriously bad intentions' or 'wanting to hurt someone'. The world is full of people that choose to live that way, and I simply do not have time in my short life to spend on them. Which would explain some drastic career moves a few years ago. And my choice of friends. Cold people do not interest me. At least not anymore. I am stuck on good people. Those of beautiful hearts. And especially those that try to hide that beauty with a rough presence, boorishly brushing you away, desperatly trying to keep from getting exposed, hurt. They may be quiet, they may be loud, but they do not tell you things they do not mean. This kind I am drawn to. Hopelessly. It is their charm that leaves me defenseless. Maybe because after getting past the defense mechanism, I feel I get a truer, more honest response. Or maybe because their trust is unconditional, once earned. And that honors me.

Now you may ask: But can you divide between the wicked and the guarded? The bad and the badly behaved? Aren't we all the same? No! We are not. There are corrupt people in this world, people that want to do bad. They want to hurt. They enjoy inflicting pain. Revel in the misery they cause to others. I have to believe they still have the potential to be otherwise, but that side of them has more often than not been silenced a long time ago. So they thrive on dominating other people, in some form or another. And that is evil, pure and simple.

On the other hand, you have the rough ones. The attitute ones. The 'I don't give a flying ... what you think' ones. Why are they so defiant? It is simple, really. For the most part, they crave justice. And freedom. For all. They loathe pretense. And stupidity. And flashiness. And kow-towing to the norm, just because others do it. Anything that sounds like 'that's not proper' does not fly with them. In short, anything without a heart turns them off. So they react. And that puts them in a dilemma. And here is the fundamental difference: They care. They really do not want to hurt. They derive no pleasure from inflicting pain. But they still have this defence mechanism, which can catch people off-guard, even stun them. And they may have longings, dreams, desires which clash with the life they are leading. The corrupt would not give it a second though. But the pure of heart would. They desperately do not want to hurt. Hence the dilemma.

I guess hindsight is always 20/20. Looking back, I think I see myself slowly turning from a professionally banausic existence towards adopting a truly libertarian disposition, shouldering my responsibility as a human being to change this world for the better, instead of expecting other people, or the government, or just anybody else to do it for me. My contribution may be small, but my heart is true. And to take this journey with me, I have chosen the best people. The good. The righteous. The kind.

I just made the best damn risotto I've ever made. At least according to those who ate it. The recipe has been demanded, and so I deliver.

There is just one caveat: It has to be made con mucho amore. Just sprinkle that stuff liberally all over and all through the cooking. You will consequently need to start the enterprise with your heart filled with love. Otherwise it won't become magical. The more love, the better the results. So fill up your hearts, and start cooking:

• Boil a liter of chicken stock and then lower to a simmer. The good stuff, if you have it, otherwise the cubes (e.g. Knorr).
• Finely chop a large onion (white or red) and a few cloves of garlic. Don't press the garlic, mince it.
• Heat in a pan a couple of tablespoons of olive oil and a few of butter.
• Slowly heat the onion and garlic in the butter/oil till they are soft, but don't allow them to turn yellow/brown.
• Pour in a large cup of arborio rice and turn up the heat. Stir from time to time, but not constantly.
• In a minute the rice will turn clear.
• Pour in a couple of glasses of cheap, good, white wine
• Stir a few times, till the wine has all but evaporated/absorbed.
• Mix in as much prosciutto as you think you can eat/afford.
• Turn the heat down and pour one ladle of stock at a time over the rice, stirring a bit until almost absorbed and then adding another ladle.
• Continue until most of the stock is finished, preferably about 15-20 minutes.
• Stick 10-15 of the biggest scallops you can find, and afford, here and there into the rice.
• Take pan off heat, smother in finely grated real parmesan and mix lightly together.
• Put lid on pan and let stand for a couple of minutes.
• Find prey and release on the risotto, thus turning them into everlasting, obedient slaves.
• Continue on to world domination.

I am loved. And it is reciprocated.

And that is a damn good feeling.

heavenly.jpg

This strange trip is drawing to a close. It has been miserable, sweet, magical , and then really difficult.

This last week was completely too much, though. I shouldn't have added the third week. The work was hard, I hardly got more than 3 and 4 hours a night to sleep, and most of that time I spent tossing and turning in bed.

No rest. Restlessness. That's a word, right? Restlessness. Looks funny on the screen.

The country said goodbye in a kind way though:

I just started reading one of my favorite books again. I haven't picked it up in years, but it somehow got thrusted into my hands now. That seems to be a recurring theme these days. Early on in the book, a inebriated man is introduced somehow like this: His eyes burned wildly and immorally. That's what I feel like right now. Wild, burning, strangely immoral, and also drunk, from lack of sleep.

Maybe my morals are just sedated. I am at the airport, and moving alone through the crowds here, with my iPod blaring in my ears, is somehow really impersonal. Devoid of humanity. I always feel most alone when I am moving through hordes of people by myself. No hand in my hand. No voice in my ear. Nobody by my side.

I may be lost, but still I know where I am going. I am going to a safe place. Somewhere where I will be looked after. Where I am needed. And wanted. Where I can do good. And be good.

This weekend has meant a venerable rainbow of emotions for me. Paradise gained and lost. Neglible sleep. Warm hellos and heart-wrenching good-byes. And now I am back to work, trying to get my bearings again.

The sun is shining again today. Oblivious to the heartaches of those toiling under her.

Ah, well. If I had to choose between locking my heart up in a secure box somewhere, and keeping the doors open for good people and experiences to nourish it, even at risk of getting hurt, I would have no problem making the right choice.