I like the magpie quality of ideas. I immerse myself in a fountain of toxic waste here. I visualize the demise of an insurance company there. One 2001 arbitration dealt with a rural Texas mobile home installation, while a trial a month later dealt with damages to a wholesale exotic florist in California.
An array of facts, of issues, and of ideas, all divergent, all related, all united in one massive, pleasing gestalt in my mind.
I like that sense that ideas matter, and that the application of the conceptual to the factual results in a resolution. I settle far more cases than I try, but in trial or in settlement, there is almost always that incessant play of ideas and facts. The best skill I have is seeing forests in masses of trees. I love that feeling when a case is its own construct in my mind, an array of connected facts and legal principles and human interaction and raw, unfettered, ecstatic intuition. I do not use controlled substances, but I am frequently quite uplifted by channeled intuition.
Tomorrow I pick up the gauntlet again, and begin preparing for the next deadline. The deadlines never stop. They are incessant, in the ways that days are incessant. It's no use worrying about them, anymore than about sunrises.
They're things to be met, and weathered, and rested from, and then another day begins.
I have seen, without an inward eye, the idea hovering within, in places I know but do not examine. It's elusive, but it's mine, and I watch it shimmer.