Are you what you are, or what?

I have noticed, unscientifically of course, a general malaise drifting listlessly around my colleagues. I think some of it has to do with news-weariness from the multi-punch disasters we’ve had lately. Perhaps some has to do with shortening daylight hours, the early symptoms of seasonal affect disorder. And, at least with my fellow Cumberlanders, the realization that the reading load won’t be going away any time soon has firmly descended in our midst, executed a three point landing on our souls, and pitched tent stakes deep into the nether regions of our frontal lobes. September blahs, I’ll call it. I actually look forward to this each year. A mild depressive episode can actually be quite therapeutic. I remember a tree in Princeton that I always passed on my way to school. Each fall for a few days, that maple would turn flame red/orange/yellow and (I’m probably going to engage in some hyperbole here, but you knew that about me) glow. No, seriously, the thing reflected more light than actually hit it. It was as if it inconspicuously absorbed energy all summer long for the sole purpose of spending a few brilliant days in the fall inspiring awe before the harsh New Jersey winters engulfed the populace of the Northeast in interminable gray. I distinctly remember my last Autumn spent at Princeton. I distinctly remember making a conscious effort to take it in, to notice the trees, to smell the fall air, to walk more slowly across campus, to be “where I was” while I was there. And I did all this because I knew I would miss it. And I know that now. Sooner than it seems, my days at Cumberland will be the stuff of boring stories I share over bar luncheons and with which I will torture young attorneys-to-be who are smiling at me hoping I’ll give them a job at the wonderful firm where I will have just made partner.

But we aren’t there yet. So when I drive to school, I chose the soundtrack carefully. I drive slow over the speed bumps, not just becuase of my low ground clearance, but because I’m taking it in. I try not to turn down many lunch outings. And a few weeks from now, I’ll notice the trees. As it turns out, both Lennon and Solomon were right. Life is what happens while we are busy making other plans, so remember, there is nothing better a man may do than to eat, drink, and find satisfaction in his work.