Billboard beside an alfalfa field

I used to be able to meditate, but I've lost the knack.

Now when I close my eyes and follow the cadence of my breathing as if each breath is a golden cloud passing in an otherwise empty sky, as I did in the old days when I expected nothing to happen in meditation and was grateful that it so often did, my mind fills with the splendors of consciousness, image after image, thought after thought.

It's not easy being the man I thought I was. I guess I need to eat more red meat and acquire a taste for Bud Light, as is the custom in Cody, from which I returned late one night after dinner with the locals at Cassie's Steakhouse.