As I sit I think “be a red rock”. Be the prodigious southwestern zen master. The immovable all seeing. Once you’ve been to the top of the mountain, all that lies below becomes trivial. Beautiful, free, trivialness. It’s impossible to worry as you bound between boulders. And those hollering about modesty, safety and “good enoughs” are unintelligible out here. This is home to the crazies, this is where us weirdos are drawn.