Things are coming back together. Life is re-taking shape. As someone noted recently, I'm brused just about now, but I'm coming round. In dark times a ray of hope is a welcome thing. Still existing through that rough compression phase of the rebound, the part they show in slow motion on 3-2-1 contact, where you see the rubber ball actually squeeze into itself before bouncing back.

Yesterday I rode up Cyclotron road to the Berkeley National Research Lab, affording an even better view than yesterday's excursion, where I stopped at the Pacific College of religion campus and was astonished by the beauty of the bay. Nothing like riding up a big hill to make you conscious of entropy. Clikity-clackity clickity-clack energy drain; it's another one of those metaphors.

I'm learning again how to take care of myself. Listening to morphine and getting into better physical shape. It's quite something what an hour of bike riding a day and a few push ups will do for you. I'm eating good food and feeling pretty stress free in spite of it all. Hope and prospects are just around the corner, or so the self-pep-talk goes.