Archives for the month of: February, 2016

The future, I mean. It sometimes seems ahead of me, but isn’t it really ‘just over there’, just the tiniest bit ‘out of reach’ seeming? How out of reach is ‘the future’ really? Is that apparent distance only a matter of perception, with each moment now building on the future-to-be? This seems relevant, too.  🙂

Meditation over coffee... like a sunrise in my thoughts.

Sometimes thoughts develop as a sunrise might.

I’m thinking about the future of the world and of humanity these days very nearly as much as I think about my own. When I think about my own future, I have a plan – or am generally working to build one if there is a lack. I have an understanding how my choices alter my future circumstances, and that there are consequences to my actions – and my thinking. I don’t always choose well, or choose wisely. I am not always correct about how events later will unfold based on choices now. I don’t always have a fully complete, mindful, aware understanding of the consequences of my actions – sometimes I am entirely incorrect about what those consequences will be, or spontaneously choose an action without forethought, for which I am ignorant of the possible outcomes. What I’m saying is that I am human. We each are, aren’t we?

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Each seeking illumination along the way.

I do think about the future, though, both my own future as one human female, and the future of my species. Do you think about the future of ‘humankind’? I hear people say things with a sense of futility or dismissiveness about the capability of humankind to live well, to live wisely, to choose survival…it often sounds to me that what they are saying, rather than ‘humankind will inevitably destroy itself and the world’, is ‘I am personally unwilling to take even one step in the direction of helping humankind exist, if I have to make a change, or take any sort of action or responsibility myself’. I hear it that way because I used to ‘be there’ myself. I’m not there now.

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I am not the woman I was at 14… or 40; I have changed with my choices.

Think about this for a moment; if we simply remove war, the industries of war, the expenses of war – and all the monetary give and take of waging wholesale slaughter of humans by humans and put that precise dollar amount into medicine, food, shelter, education, and global quality of life, we would solve famine, poverty, ignorance, and disease pretty quickly. So… why don’t we? I have turned this over in my head again and again, from the perspective of a lifetime of change that began with a conversation with my father at the kitchen counter about ‘utopia’ – I was 14 – and has continued through this one mortal, limited human lifetime to this present morning, sitting here, thinking again about ‘why?’ and ‘why not?’ (as philosopher types are prone to doing) and it hit me. I totally know why we don’t do that, and do it right now – it’s not a pleasing answer like ‘can’t’, but it is real and true, and it is a starting point. We don’t want to. There is profit to be made on fear, on poverty, on killing, on scrapping over meaningless utterly arbitrary territorial borders, on marketing to the insecurities we carry within ourselves that stop us doing something meaningful about what matters most, on building a bigger pile of money on which to stand and look down on our fellow humans who are exactly every bit as awesomely human as we are ourselves. It frankly sucks that we are not wiser creatures – or at a minimum, more compassionate ones. We kill and kill again, we turn our backs on each other, we treat each other badly based on stories we make up in our own heads about what frightens us… then, instead of noticing how horrible this is and choosing differently; we notice the horror, and create justification for how unavoidable it is, and how righteously we endure our choices.

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We can choose to be better human beings, or choose to excuse being what we are.

I am often seen by associates as politically ‘liberal’. I find it frustrating, because although there is some shared ground between what I think myself and the common American ‘liberal agenda’, astute friends who have known me years are aware that my own position on political matters is probably more correctly labeled (if we must) as ‘radical’. I do actually believe that we can choose differently, and that it is in our will and our choices that we are stranded as a primate species, fussing in the most primitive way over territory and assets, unaware that these totems of achievement are likely our undoing – with an entirely different future possible, and completely within reach if we choose it. Can one person change the world? Not really, no, not as one person; but for the world to change, it is those individual choices that will change it (incrementally, over time – the questions now, is there enough time left, and who will choose it?). That’s where the puzzle gets complicated. Is there ‘sin’ in profit? I don’t think so myself…but when ‘the game is rigged’ to ensure that profit reliably flows to some few hands at the expense of all, and exploiting the effort of many at great individual cost, we engineer the destruction of our species, globally. We’re watching it happen. We talk about it a lot. For every person hoping to change the tide, there are others wanting to profit from the status quo and reminding us all that the profits may diminish if we choose change. Yep. There’s the clue. Are we not ready to accept fewer dollars piled up in exchange for seeing humanity thrive? That seems strange to me.

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How much is money really worth?

For some days, I keep turning over the bizarre notion in my head, (fueled by too much political propaganda in my Facebook feed and social experience in an election year probably) that a ‘human mission statement’ might give each one of us an idea of the direction we are headed in the simplest possible terms. I mean, when I am at work I often give thought to the company values or mission statement when I am starting a project; I want to ensure the outcome of the work I am starting meets the company’s stated goals. I realized yesterday walking to work, that I do something similar when I evaluate the new year for myself, each January 1st; I look at my life in comparison to my values, and ask myself hard questions about what I am choosing in life and does it get me where I am going. (This may be something everyone does in some fashion – I’m no expert on ‘everyone’.) I think about UN “conventions” on a variety of topics and understand these to be an attempt ‘in the right direction’ as I understand that, myself…but I keep wondering…

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What are we doing?

Are we all actually in favor of humanity surviving, really? There are nihilists among us. There are profit-mongers, usurious money-lenders, and politicians acting for personal gain among us. There is hate and fear among us. There is ennui and futility. We seem to flail directionlessly, fighting over minutiae, and missing the point; we are destroying the one home we currently have, and treating each other badly. We don’t have to do either of those things – we could choose differently, this very minute, and go another direction. There are no arguments to refute. There are no rationalizations worthy of our attention. There are only verbs and choices, and each of us is making a difference of some kind; the question then becomes “Are my choices and actions such that I am promoting the emotional and physical well-being of my fellow-man in this moment, and securing the sustainable survival of humankind, and the habitat on which we rely, without damaging exploitation of resources or people, or other sentient life?” Well… that’s sure the question I hope we each ask, with every choice, every day. I see a lot of evidence that we don’t even give it a thought. Scary.

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Mindful living covers a lot of details.

This isn’t about ‘politics’ for me. This isn’t a race to a finish line, and there is no profit that justifies the destruction of other human beings, or other life, so that numbers in a bank balance grow. Gross margins and shareholders don’t matter even a little bit; people matter. I frustrate myself endlessly trying to communicate to associates who object to increasing the minimum wage that perhaps we would do better for humankind to look at the value of human lives when we talk about wages, rather than the supposed value of the work to be done; employment requires we give up some portion of our very limited life force to support someone else’s endeavors at the expense of our own (that’s why we get paid, right?). Our fragile human lives are worth far more than a ‘minimum wage’ – employers are fortunate that anyone at all wants to bother making widgets, or keeping spreadsheets up-to-date. No, I’m not ‘liberal’ – a lot of my ‘liberal’ friends are still very committed studious working stiffs who get irritated by people who don’t seem to be ‘doing their fair share’ holding down some 9-5, and this requirement to be ‘gainfully employed’ matters to them so much that they make relationship decisions based on employment status! I keep waiting for the promises of technology – touted in advertising in the 50s and 60s – to be fulfilled for humankind in the form of lives of comfortable leisure for one and all, with technology handling the daily grind, and human beings freed to pursue intellectual and artistic endeavors, to invent, create, to live and to breathe, and even to sleep… I keep waiting for humanity to actually care about the outcome for humanity over all, everywhere – because we are one species, on one mudball, and we’re all in this together. I may be waiting awhile – so in the meantime, I will do the best I can to make my own choices well and wisely, with an eye on a sustainable future for myself, for my family, for my species – and I’ll try not to be a dick, and try to avoid choices that are injurious of others, or that may rob them of their own opportunities to do and be their very best most human emotionally well selves. I’m still human, and still so imperfect…there is so often more ‘try’ than ‘do’, and a lot of practice to cover very little ground; it still matters to do the best I can.

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I come back to ‘now’, one sweet peaceful moment of stillness and contentment.

I’ve gone on awhile on this one. It’s been on my mind while I moved, and contemplated how very different effort supporting my own agenda feels, in comparison to effort in support of an employer’s agenda, and how very easily I could contentedly fill my own time, every day, doing the things I love…writing, painting, reading, hiking… How do we successfully monetize our passions? That’s not the question I most want to answer, myself. I’d like to know why we have to, at all? 😉

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Taking time to take care of me matters, too; it doesn’t have to be at the expense of the future of humankind – or of the world.

Today is a good day to be. Today is a good day to enjoy each precious moment, each simple joy, and each smile. Today is a good day to understand that indeed, I can change the world… even the small changes count for something. 🙂

 

Yesterday the internet was connected, with some effort and a very tall technician from Argentina. Originally from Argentina, I mean – it would be silly to send someone so far, literally, to connect FiOS. 🙂 I found his exotic accent pleasant.

This morning I found my internet connection… wasn’t. 😦 Funny how little stress that ever really causes me, and I find myself wondering if that is a byproduct of having once worked technical support for a connectivity provider in my very first call center job… 18 years ago. I ponder the passage of time and sip my coffee while I power cycle the router and restore my connection to the world. It’s a simple thing, each moment of self-sufficiency in life is another opportunity to chill, to be content, to feel safe. There is something so powerful in self-reliance – without it, what do I have to offer the world reciprocally? There’s something there to think over… maybe another time.

Another day dawns

Another day dawns, and change is.

My desk here is next to a window looking out on the park, and positioned very near to the corner of the unit – and the building – and the sound of rain on the eaves this morning is loud enough to hear very clearly. I go with the stillness and the sound of rainfall this morning, adding only the percussion of fingers on keys. At one point, I find myself ‘feeling it’ almost as music, tapping my toes along with the sounds of morning. Smiling at myself when I notice, it is a moment of pure pointless joy without reason or excuse required. This room feels good for writing, for painting… it is the ‘master bedroom’ no longer. This is my studio. 🙂

I feel pretty settled in and ‘at home’ here already, which is such a different experience for me – is it really just that I slowed it down and moved in more completely while I was moving out, sparing myself weeks of upheaval and disarray? Is it that I did so much of it entirely myself? I grin thinking about the thousands of pounds of goods I moved, and the legion of tiny bruises from bumping this thing, bracing that thing, hauling some awkward bit over here, or over there; I got it done as planned, almost precisely. There’s a strange delight in seeing things unfold as planned. I think briefly of another experience – not the ‘unplanned disaster’ or the ‘unplanned but awesome’ experiences, instead I think for just a moment of the ‘carefully planned experience that becomes completely derailed, fully failed, no effective alternative, shit just going sideways on every detail full on panic’ experience… scary. I realize as my mind veers away from the sense of that experience how very frightening I find it, and far more so than the outcome of anything unplanned. I use the moment to consider how I can better appreciate qualities of the unplanned experiences in life to ease the stress of failed planning in other moments; instead of feeling the pain and fear of the planning going to pieces in some horrible way, learning to take a needed step back, a few deep breaths, and take the opportunity to let go comfortably, to go ‘off script’ in those moments, and let it become unplanned at that point – instead of fervently holding on to the failed planning, grieving the discomfort or turmoil of the changing situation, instead learning to embrace it as a chance to do something wholly new and previously unconsidered – or to find the value in what had been rejected before. I make some notes – real pen and ink on paper notes – to consider this further, later.

Yeah...but still some work to do.

Yeah…but still some work to do.

I pause to make another cup of coffee and return to my desk. I’m very aware this morning, as I sit in this one room that is not yet ‘totally moved in’, that my moving in is not yet completed; this is the one space in which that is quite obvious. There are books stacked everywhere, strange vaguely lop-sided towers of books in varying sizes that show off both some skill at balancing objects, and also some lack of good judgement. Almost on cue, a precarious stack of books topples over. I wonder that I didn’t notice that I’d brushed it on the way by, or somehow shifted it. I laugh, because it’s not as if they’ll be damaged. I feel a moment of appreciation that these were not my first editions (which are already put on shelves) and recall a conversation with someone who asked me ‘why is it a big deal if a book is a first edition?’ It isn’t of course, and that was my answer; it’s merely an unnecessary way of making a book seem special, or ‘collectible’. The words within are truly enough.

Speaking of words… On the other hand, let’s not. At least, not this morning. I do have words and language on my mind lately. Thoughts to think over about how I communicate, why it matters to feel heard, and what it says to me when someone silences me – certainly, I am a studied expert on what I understand it to mean when I am silenced. It’s likely both an experience that is specifically part of who I am myself and how I take the world’s messaging, and also probably very common and very human.

The rain keeps falling. I’ve run out of things to say. The stacks of books, and a couple of small boxes of ‘desk stuff’ that are not yet unpacked now have my attention. I’ve some time before I head to work… and it is a lovely morning to live beautifully and take care of me. I think I’ll do some of that. 🙂

I haven't even left for work, and I am already eager to return home.

I haven’t even left for work, and I am already eager to return home.

Today is a good day to be here in this moment, now. I’ll be getting on with that…

Tomorrow things here at home, settling into new spaces and arrangements of things, should begin to normalize; the internet will be connected. (I get by comfortably well with just my handheld device on 4G, but it isn’t as comfortable to write.) Even as I form the thought I am aware it is merely a prediction based on likelihood, planning, and anticipated good fortune; I can’t really see the future with any clarity. In a tightly realistic way, I know only that the necessary appointment has been made and it’s for today. 🙂

I spend some minutes contemplating all the verbs involved in making this section of rented multi family residential construction a ‘home’… And what ‘home’ means to me. When I move, habits break down due to change and disarray; what is functional or expedient as I navigate life from box to box, not yet fully unpacked, is very different than what is ideal, comfortable or beautiful. I look around each room carefully and make a simple list of broken habits and details that matter to me personally; sometimes the verbs are best managed in an organized way, I find. Living alone is a continuous opportunity to treat myself well, to practice exceptional self-care, and to build my life as I most wish to live it. I am inclined to think these things can be done within the context of shared familial living, but I have sucked at that so completely for so much of my life that I properly lost my way, and turned on myself in such a fashion that it became very difficult to determine healthy relationships from damaging ones, to clearly recognize mistreatment, or even to endure living. I am well past all that now, and although I am in a much healthier place with myself, the experience of moving, with all the turmoil and disruption that goes with that experience is enough to remind me how much work has gone into getting me here. It’s a worthy moment for reflection, and a fitting time to observe some details that need my everyday attention.

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My choices change my results.

There are cables and cords willy nilly everywhere; the visual disorder is an irritant. I make a note of this, and list them all for attention – perhaps before the weekend: aquarium, stereo, desk…even lamps will have their moment. I prefer cables and cords to be very tidy generally bundled, or clamped neatly.

Yesterday morning I woke to dishes in the sink. Yeah, mine – obviously – and no, not okay with me. I find dishes left in the sink (or beside it) fairly objectionable, and they only get more gross over time. It’s so common to be too tired, or involved in something more fun in the moment, and in that instant to just put dishes in the sink instead of the waiting dishwasher… But any time I take that short cut I am also showing myself considerable disrespect, and a lack of consideration; every time I see those dishes in the sink I am aware of work not yet completed, on top of the moment of irritation that I stomped all over my own boundaries. I also really loathe waking up to dirty dishes. The experience yesterday was sufficient to put me back on track; this morning I woke to a sparkling clean kitchen.

These are only samples from my own narrative. Your needs, and results, may vary. Honestly, I totally get not putting household tasks at the highest priority; there is so much more to life than being a slave to household upkeep! There are individual compromises I can/do take, and others that don’t feel comfortable for me. A coat hanging ‘conveniently’ on the back of a chair (that happens to be quite near to the closet in which it actually belongs) doesn’t bother me…a single glass or coffee mug sitting in the sink instead of being put into the dishwasher aggravates me, and results in feeling a bit cross. Choices.

I sip my coffee and think about home, feeling ‘at home’, and what is required from me today to live more beautifully than I did yesterday… Until each morning finds me tending to wake in a common state of contentment that is generally sustainable throughout each day. Like so many things, it’s a process, and there are tasks to be completed, and practices to practice.

Today is a good day to take care of this fragile vessel, and to appreciate what works for me more often than I am critical of what works less well. Today is a good day to treat the world as well as I am learning to treat myself. Today is a good day to be the change I wish to see, and yes, there are verbs involved. My results may vary. 🙂

This morning I am enjoying my coffee with cream and sugar, a rare treat. I am relaxing contentedly in this safe quiet place and making room in my heart to wish the world well.

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Just morning coffee and a quiet moment.

I listen to the sound of the last freight train to pull past the commuter platform, some distance away on the other side of the park. The track is shared during business hours. The freight trains are much louder. The sound doesn’t trouble me; it is somehow a sound of ‘home’. 

I listen to the rain tapping on my roof, my flue cover, and the windows, and feel the luxury of bare feet, tickled by clean new carpet, before pulling my legs up to sit cross legged on the love seat. I hear the aquarium trickling gently, and watch the fish swim calmly. They drift seemingly without effort, adding to the calm of this lovely morning.

I started this comfortable pleasant morning with a voicemail from my traveling partner; tender loving words are an excellent start to the day. I will, if I am properly adult, finish this one with laundry.  There’s really nothing extraordinary about this morning or this day… It is one of many, worthy of savoring, lingering over the best bits, and wholly enjoying, awake and aware.

It doesn’t require so many words to enjoy a lovely morning, it’s the sharing for which language was built, and continues to thrive… Sharing completed, it’s my choice to invest entirely in having the experience of this lovely morning, and leave you to invest in yours. I hope you have also chosen to have quite a lovely morning…even if there are some verbs involved.

With our choices we change the world.

Back to work today; adult choices about quality of life don’t pay for themselves. 🙂

I sip my coffee and consider one ‘wrong note’ in life’s song in a very long while. A moment of utter rudeness that itself stemmed from my impulse control issues, and quickly deteriorated into a difficult to manage experience, in part due to simply feeling ashamed of my own rudeness. It was a common enough thing, but also one I strongly object to in my associations, and endeavor always to avoid – I allowed myself to be distracted from a flesh and blood live human by a text message from elsewhere. Poor form. Disrespectful. Inconsiderate. Yeah, just frankly inexcusably rude.  It’s also incredibly rare for me to do that. I did though, and it’s still on my mind, not because it occurred, nor even how I handled acknowledging my error, or the immediate apology – which seemed immediate to me only because it was what I did first after completing my reply to the text message from work. It was not truly timely. It’s on my mind this morning as a reminder of an entirely other sort.

I find living with other people very challenging. I enjoyed my rare week living with my traveling partner, and spent the move feeling fairly self-congratulatory that it was so easy. We treated each other very well, and mindfully so on this whole other level than typical day to day living is so often spent. He was hurting, I was offering a haven, and a listening heart. It was an extended period of heightened acceptance and intimacy, and although an indication of profound progress… I live best alone, at least for now.

Yesterday, my rudeness in a very ordinary 21st century moment was a very abrupt wake up call, and reminder that I have chosen this day to day comfort and contentment to heal myself. It hurts some to acknowledge that I am not ‘there’ yet, however far I have come. Still, how sweet to make the discovery in a moment of simple rudeness, instead of something much worse?

This morning I sip my coffee profoundly grateful to begin again, so many times, to experience so much and gain such broad perspective, to love and be loved flaws and all, while also enjoying the luxury of minimizing the collateral damage to the heart and spirit of the ones dearest to me, by living alone while I sort myself out and find my way.

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Whatever the writing utensil, the words matter, particularly the verbs.

Today is a good day to be my own cartographer. Today is a good day to live and love well – and mindfully. Today is a good day for acceptance and contentment, and practicing the practices. Incremental change over time continues – and I am still quite human.