Use Only As Directed

May 17, 2026 //
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I woke early and made coffee. No point tossing and turning and trying to sleep in when my body had obviously given up on sleep, and my mind was very much awake already. It’s fine. It’s been a very useful little getaway, and I feel more prepared to “get back to things” with my mind right. I mean…it feels that way now. That’s enough.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

Amusingly, upon logging in to my laptop for some note-taking and writing, I’m immediately faced with a banner on my dashboard encouraging me to “add AI” tools to my WordPress account. I almost spit coffee all over the keyboard. Are you f*ing kidding me? No. An unreserved, not even curious, “aw hellllll no!”. lol (Tell me your software company pushes shit on users without doing any research whatsoever about whether they want it, without telling me you don’t do any research on whether your users want the crap you want to push on them.) I sigh to myself, click to hide the banner, and when it pops up a question about whether I want to hide it for a week, a month, or forever, I happily choose “forever”. No thanks, no AI here.

…You’ll just have to put up with my odd grammar, word play, mixed metaphors, and typos, y’all, I’ve got this; it’s a human experience, being shared by a human being for other human beings. I correct some typos and move on.

It is another gray coastal morning. Looks like more rain, and my arthritic bones agree. I’m okay with that. Today, I go home. Hell, I might simply pack up and head back, but I do have an appointment to get my hair cut, and I’m definitely overdue. This cup of coffee seems less bad than yesterday’s – same coffee, same machine, same human being. What changed? The day, obviously, but that’s not likely to affect the coffee. Well, by now there’s been several fills of the little reservoir, so… I guess the machine has been rinsed out? When I contemplate the implications, I’m pretty grossed out – and I’m glad it didn’t make me actually ill. (I make a mental note to run water through cheap-ass plastic in-room coffee machines in hotels before making coffee in them. That seem smart.)

Isn’t that the way of this human journey? We stumble, we begin again, we learn from the mistake we made, we do things differently next time (ideally). It seems a bit inefficient, but here we are. Very few of us really learn any other way, and at least in America, we reinforce that inefficiency by mocking “book learning” and dismissing legitimate expertise. We’re all idiots. We elect idiots to important roles, deepening our idiocy. I sigh to myself, recognizing that while I am myself a complete idiot more often than I’d like, there likely are people who avoid most of the traps and pitfalls in life, although I doubt any one human being escapes them all. We’re quite fallible, curious, and prone to making mistakes before we think things through. (Part of that human experience, eh?) Just humans being human.

A a new day, a new perspective, a hint of blue skies.

…Oh damn, there is some part of me that does not really want to go back to “the real world” from this lovely break…

…

I give up on writing long enough to play a favorite track that lifts me up, dancing across the room as I happily groove along, packing my stuff. Why not? Joy is worth taking a break for, and today I go home to my beloved Traveling Partner – and while there are things about “real life” that I may dread (or just not enjoy much), my Traveling Partner is not one of those. I miss him, and I’m eager to be home again. I let the love songs play on. I make choices for the day as I pack. Go out for breakfast? Nah, I’ll just have these cup noodles. Go out for coffee? I don’t think so; the coffee here is fine, and if I want different/better, I can get a great Americano at the cafe next to the salon, later. These jeans or those? Earrings or no? – I’m getting my hair cut, and I’ll have to take them off anyway, I decide against earrings. Life is filled with choices. We make decisions all day, every day, from the moment we wake up and decide to go ahead and live another day, until we choose to call it a night and go to bed. Most of those decisions work out well, and we barely given them any thought. When we make a decision that does not serve us well, it tends to stick out as somehow more significant by itself than the sum of all the good decisions we’ve made along the way. I reflect on that awhile as I plan my day.

I reflect on things I’ve learned about myself, things I think I’ve sorted out, things I think I want to change through choice, action, and will to practice. Taking stock of “where I’m at” and what I want from my life (and myself) is sometimes more complicated than a weekend of quiet, but it feels like enough, as I sit here now. This is what works for me. (Your results may vary. Use only as directed. lol)

I look around this room. It’s mine for another couple of hours, plenty of time for a walk on the beach at low tide, and it is looking like a lovely morning for it. I smile to myself, wondering where my path leads.

The way ahead won’t always be paved, or easy to walk, but it is a journey worth making.

I grab my cane and my camera. It’s time to begin again.

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Categories Uncategorized

Interference Patterns

May 16, 2026 //
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Why do I keep coming back to this place? Surely it isn’t just convenience, ritual, or nostalgia? (I mean… but it could be though…)

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

I think about it for a long while, maybe instead of the thoughts I may have thought brought me here. Too long, maybe, between chapters of “A Canticle for Leibowitz”, which I was finishing, and pages of “The Conspiracy Against The Human Race “, which I am only just beginning, both of which feel significant and well-timed. Cycles and patterns in life and living occur often in this mortal experience. I watch the waves of the ebb tide reach the shore, and return to cross and mingle with the next row coming in. It is late afternoon.

Waves against a rocky shore.

I consider the phenomenon of the double slit experiment, and of watching the ripples of water expanding out from a stone cast into the shallow water at the edge of my grandfather’s pier on Weems Creek on a summer morning. Interference patterns fascinate me endlessly. Interference is a subtle thing, natural and irresistible, and perhaps that is why I come to this place, to listen to sea breezes whisper truths that might escape my awareness in the busy-ness of life, as I contemplate the patterns in the waves as they reach the shore?

Sometimes I just need quiet and solitude – some time alone to “hear myself think”. I have been needing it so much lately, I guess, that any effort to do something else has been met with a feeling of profound discontent, and a sense of resisting what is needful, as if I were interfering with my own sense of purpose. What feels useful and right is to sit gazing out at the sea, or to relax with a coffee by the fire. My initial reluctance to fully yield to “wasting my time” on nothing more (or less) than my own thoughts quickly passed once I yielded to it without reservation (or interference).

I sit with my thoughts. That is, after all, what I come here for. What I came here for this time, too.

The medium brown strands of my hair fall in waves down my bosom. There’s not much gray. The auburn highlights sparkle where the afternoon sun reaches me through the window, hinting at red-headed-ness in my ancestry. One notable indulgence on this trip will be a long overdue haircut with a stylist I really like. I didn’t plan ahead, and I am grateful she was willing to make an appointment for me on a Sunday morning, just before I return home.

… Shit. I miss my Traveling Partner. The poignant feeling of loss and absence strikes me hard, abruptly. Yeah… I come here alone also to escape the subtle interference patterns of love, too. It’s a bit harder to focus on me when my heart is focused on my beloved. Here, for a couple of days, my thoughts are truly my own, entirely. At home, and this is not a criticism, my thoughts and the very fabric of my life is woven and intertwined with his. Every thread connects the two of us. My heart shifts gears now, from missing him to feeling incredibly loved. His love gives me ample room to step away, care for myself, and return more whole and more capable, and more able to partner with him in this life we share. That’s so beautiful…

I smile and set aside writing for some other moment, and return to my thoughts.

(Some time later)

My thoughts became, at some point, an unexpected nap listening to the waves through the open window. I woke, soon enough to think about some dinner and a bit more reading. I exchange welcome words with my beloved. He misses me. I am missing him too. Tomorrow is soon, and I’m looking forward to his embrace when I get home.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I sit in the evening light, watching the day dwindle away to night. Tomorrow I’ll begin again.

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Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, inspiration, Logic & Reason, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Spring, The Art of Being, women, Words

Your Results May Vary

May 16, 2026 //
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I am sipping a really terrible coffee, looking out over the ocean at low tide. Funny, I’m in the room right next to the room I had on my last visit here…but the view is diminished (one window instead of three side-by-side), and the coffee is terrible. My results vary. Yours will, too, most likely. It’s a very human experience.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

Low tide, sunrise, western horizon.

I’m still drinking the coffee, as terrible as it is. I’ll go out for better, later, but for now this will do. I am still enjoying the view from this room. It’s beautiful. No complaints, and no need to journey elsewhere to see the sea. Surely, I’ll see more, and from other viewpoints, later today, but for now this is quite enough. This room is somehow smaller than the one next door (and no kitchenette, just a coffee machine and a mini-fridge). Doesn’t much matter; I’m not here about the amenities, I’m here to relax with my thoughts and reset myself, my thinking, and my approach to the day-to-day, hoping to come home feeling refreshed and energized, and somehow more myself than when I got here.

…Will that work? Maybe? It has before…

Here on the seashore I feel my Dear Friend’s presence and my Granny’s. Both women loved coastal places. Whenever I was low, talking with my Granny on the phone from some distant place, she would say “You should come to the shore, Sweetie, and take a rest from all that. It’s just noise in your head. Come listen to the birds, and feel the breeze on the marsh. We’ll take a drive into town and have crab cakes.” I’d often laugh, just feeling relieved to be heard. I couldn’t go as often as I would have liked, but on those occasions that I did, it saved me.

I sip my terrible cup of coffee, marveling at just how really awful it is. The morning sun begins to light up the distant clouds, high in the sky. Beautiful. A seagull stands on the bit of ground between the window and the straight drop to the beach, and looks into the window at me. The ocean is a sleek polished aluminum gray, breaking on the rocky beach in waves of white foam, shining with reflected light. I could sit at this window and watch this views for many uninterrupted hours – even with this gull standing there watching me, as if expecting I might toss some tasty morsel his way. It is windy today (yesterday, too), and it’s expected to be rainy, too. I don’t even mind. Storms make for dramatic skies, and rain means a good night’s sleep (for me).

I sigh to myself. This coffee is even worse once it’s begun to go cold. I chuckle to myself. It’s a good indication that it’s time to begin again, perhaps? The tide is as its lowest, and the tide pools here are something special. My clothes are already laid out. A walk on the beach, then a proper cup of coffee sounds like a lovely start to the day. I let go of my expectations; there is no sense in clinging to what I do not yet know. I already know that change is, and that my results may vary. I’m walking my own path, and that’s enough for this moment right here, now.

I finish this coffee, and think kisses at my Traveling Partner. He’s having his own experience – I hope it is a good one.

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Categories Allegories, art and the artist, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, women, Words

Time to Reset the Operating System

May 15, 2026 //
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Sometimes it’s necessary to do a “reset” and update some settings. I gaze into the little strip of trees along the creek bank. It’s hard not to notice the apartment buildings on the other side. I sigh to myself, frustrated by this feeling of my consciousness being encroached upon. There’s a certain lasting fatigue that seems to linger even after a good night’s rest. I fight it unsuccessfully with sleep, meditation, healthy breaks from work, half-assed attempts at boundary setting… I need to “reset my OS” (metaphorically speaking).

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

I’ve got a room booked on the coast for the weekend, and a couple of meetings I can’t dodge between now and hitting the highway heading for a sunset ocean view. My Traveling Partner is right; I need a break, and I also need to reset my understanding of what he’s capable of, now. I breathe, exhale, and relax. Nice morning for it. I haven’t even packed yet. I rarely do anything so spontaneous. I chuckle out loud to myself, and hearing the sound, I am struck by how much it resembles my Mother’s laugh, and my Granny’s. I smile. I’m okay with that.

I got home last night after some quick grocery shopping, to discover that my beloved had cleaned the house more or less top to bottom over the course of the day. He’s clearly less disabled than he has been. I’ve got to stop behaving as if he needs continuous assistance with everything. It’s not true, and I am myself made of mortal flesh. I’d do well to recalibrate and adapt to the new normal. As I think the thought a wave of relief washes over me. I’ve worked so hard to care for him, and endured much. I’m due a bit of a break and he’s surely due the opportunity to simply be, without my constant worried fussing.

“Baby Love” blooming by the front door.

A simple question remains; will the damned deer ever stop eating my fucking roses?! Oh. “No.” The answer is no. 😆 But that’s not the question. The actual question is; can I get myself to slow down and care for myself, for real? Buy a couple new bras that actually fit? Get my hair cut? Maybe sleep in? Spend a day painting without distractions? Shop without anyone else in mind? It’s not at all easy to give up all the caregiving habits that were so much a part of the last two years. It is now necessary to complete the process of shifting gears again, back from steadfast accommodating caregiver to partner, friend, and lover. I am relieved and grateful… And I need a break to care for myself and update my thinking.

“Rainbow Happy Trails” blooming, too.

… And the deer will go on eating my damned roses, because they are having their own experience and care nothing about the circumstances of my human life…

“Whimsy” finally blooms for the first time since I planted her.

For real though, I’m glad I got some pictures of the roses in bloom yesterday, because this morning the flowers are all gone. I sigh to myself. Life isn’t perfect; it’s a journey. The journey is the destination. (And deer eat roses.) I’m not even bitching (well, maybe a little),  by most definitions, things are okay. Hell, I’m making a little weekend getaway to the coast happen on very short notice. That feels good even if the price of gas is still eye poppingly expensive. $5.33?? Are you kidding me with this shit? Ffs, take his toys away and put that senile old clown on a fucking time out. 😆

The sun rises behind me. A low mist in the vineyard hints at a cooler morning. It may be chilly on the coast. I remind myself to pack a warm sweater and wear my fleece. I smile, feeling light. It’s time to begin again.

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Categories 2024 Election, Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, women, Words

Well Hello, Opportunity

May 14, 2026 //
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It is an ordinary morning, begun in the usual way, following a night of very sound and restful sleep. I woke feeling merry and grateful to have a comfortable bed and a partner with the thoughtfulness to adjust the thermostat when the weather changes.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

All the way down the trail this morning, I thought about the weekend ahead. With my Traveling Partner’s encouragement, I am planning to take a couple days to rest (and maybe paint) on the coast. I’m rarely so last minute about such things, and I am delighted to have the opportunity, if I can make it work out. I walk with my thoughts, sifting through my recollections of various other similar short getaways. I have options. A rough plan begins to take shape… A short work day, a relaxed drive to the coast, an “early” check-in if I can get it, and an ocean view room from which to watch the sun set, sounds like a fine beginning. I sometimes surprise myself by being able to sleep in, at the coast. Is it the sound of the sea? The scent of the ocean breeze? I don’t know, really, but I’m happy to continue to study the phenomenon. 😆

I sit at my halfway point now, thinking about the weekend ahead. Painting or photography? Reading or writing? Meditation or beachcombing? Does it have to be either/or? I can mix and match. I grin thinking about times when I’ve packed for every possible option and found myself just napping, stargazing, and enjoying a bit of sightseeing instead of doing any of the things I had tried to prepare for. 😆 Human primates are weird.

… What do I really need most out of this time? I sit quietly reflecting on that…

What matters most? It’s a big question. I sit with that awhile. I decide to keep things simple, and open, and a very loose “plan” (so unlike me) and see where the journey takes me, for a change. Low effort, maximum rest. I’ve always got my sketchbox in the car, and my cellphone is more camera than phone in everyday use. I’ll bring a book and a change of clothes. It feels like enough. I’m only going for a day, framed by two nights.  It’s more about getting the restful quiet time than any agenda or itinerary. I’m not looking for an achievement.

I smile to myself, feeling easy. This feels somehow “settled” now. I shift gears to thinking about today. I remind myself to stop at the store on my way home from work. It’s not yet the weekend, and there’s today to be lived. I bring myself back to here, now, and draw in a deep breath of cool Spring air. Pretty morning. Cloudy skies but no rain, cool but not cold. I’m okay with this. I chuckle to myself; it wouldn’t change anything if I weren’t okay with it. Reality would just go on being real, at least with regard to the weather. The weather is not within my control.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s almost time to begin the day. I wonder briefly how many of you read the layers of meaning or look for the lessons or metaphors? I smile to myself, unconcerned, just curious. I get to my feet and turn towards the sun. It’s time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, Words
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