...
We could be lolling on my front porch with big mugs full of gourmet coffee, plotting to overthrow the akashic record, gazing out over the water at the mountains in the distance, or out over the mountains at the water in the distance, figuring it all out, perhaps making abstract paintings or stitching up wearable art, fertilizing the forest, taking turns soaking our bones in the tub, meditating, pontificating, losing our fealty to gravity.
But no.
