Archives for the month of: March, 2024

Words Matter

March 26, 2024 //

I’m sipping my coffee and thinking about words.

Specifically, I’m thinking about the sloppy way headlines or thumbnail titles are often written, misusing words like “and” or “but” – they aren’t really interchangeable, generally. Same with words like “how” and “why” – these are not synonyms and have very different meanings in a statement or in a question. Headlines that profess to tell “why” something is happening, or matters to the viewer (or reader), for articles which actually only describe that it is happening and maybe how it is happening are distinctly (and irritatingly) misleading. Don’t get me started on headlines that use words to attempt to force the reader (or viewer) into making a shared assumption about something without ever actually proving that it is so. Damn I hate that shit. An example might be “Learn why doctors won’t prescribe this drug!”, for an article that never gives an answer to the question “Why won’t doctor’s prescribe this drug?” and also doesn’t actually support the (often completely bullshit) assumption that this is even the reality of the situation in the first place. It’s super common. “Clickbait” headlines are often rife with misleading nonsense assumptions and unanswered implied questions. Read with care. Think your own thoughts. Have your own (well-informed, supported by reality) opinions. Don’t take the bait.

…I have no idea why this is on my mind this morning, but it has been since I got in the car and headed into the city…

I sigh quietly to myself and sip my coffee. There’s nothing I can do about bad writing habits besides complain about them pedantically (in spite of my own bad writing habits), and since that achieves nothing aside from mild amusement (maybe), I guess I’ll just let it go. There are other ways to spend my time, and other things to think about. lol “…a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.” 😉

Yesterday evening was a “short one”, in the sense that the commute home was unexpectedly long (thanks, Union Pacific!) due to a train parked across multiple intersections in the downtown area, blocking traffic at rush hour. I was pretty well stuck where I was until the train moved, and then I was in the thick of rush hour traffic (which I usually miss by timing my departure such that I’m not in the middle of the worst of rush hour traffic). I grabbed cheap cheeseburgers on the way home, instead of cooking a meal (as had been my plan). I was tired – so tired – when I got home that the evening is mostly a blur.

I went to bed more or less at my usual time, but failed to lay out clothes for the morning, forgot that there was a planned internet maintenance outage last night that would affect my alarm, sort of “overslept” in the sense that I woke up precisely on time instead of early (I think a noise woke me?)… forgot to put my wearable on… left the house still half-asleep and if not actually groggy, for sure fucking stupid as hell. Confused. Strangely, I got to the office feeling awake, alert, and well-rested. I feel content, calm, and relaxed. It seems a good morning. My planned workload for today is something I enjoy, and which will occupy my time most of the time quite pleasantly. A good Tuesday.

Daybreak evolved into morning some time ago, though I’m not sure “where the time went” – no watch on my arm, but how can that even have anything to do with my “sense of time and timing”? It seems irrelevant. What a weird morning.

“Words matter.” I mean, yeah, generally… but maybe not these words, eh? Just some random nonsense, spilling out of a mind that woke strangely into a new day… and I’m being kind to say so. LOL Not my best work and yet here you are! Thank you for that. I appreciate you. I guess the point is simply to move on, be in the moment, present, here for it, and doing my best. If things go sideways, I can begin again. 😀

Tags Be Impeccable With Your Word, begin again, clickbait headlines, do better, don't be mislead, don't take the bait, false advertising, perspective, practicing the practices, say what you mean, TBI, The Art of Being, there are verbs involved, use language with care, what matters most?, words matter, writing

Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Practices, Spring, The Art of Being

Rites of Spring

March 25, 2024 //

I woke ahead of the alarm, this morning. I got going and headed up the highway a bit earlier than usual, enjoying the lack of traffic. I’d love to say I drove mindfully, fully present in the moment, but… it wouldn’t be true. My head was still in the garden, after delightful weekend hours planting and planning, and putting to good use the seed starters my Traveling Partner had 3D printed for me, for such crops as will be planted later, in warmer weather.

2 of 4 seed starter sets (translucent covers not pictured), with re-usable inserts that separate into two sections for easy removal of tender seedlings for planting.

Much of the drive this morning was spent entirely in my own head, having imagined conversations with family and friends no longer available in life for such conversations, at all. I miss sharing the details of the garden and gardening with my Dad, with my Granny, with my dear friend… It’s okay, I guess, the conversations would be much the same as previous such conversations had been, and it’s easy enough to replay them in my head, and imagine sharing the new details of this garden, and this Spring. New roses. New herbs. New ideas. In a sense, it isn’t “new” at all, more part of a seasonal cycle that repeats each year, embraced by those that love it so.

I do share what’s going on in the garden with my Traveling Partner, and he’s a wealth of good ideas and insights, but whiling away endless hours talking about this variety versus that variety, or what specifically to plant in that corner over there isn’t really his thing, so much. lol I’m okay with that; we each have our own things to share and to do, and there’s always much to discuss about the things that interest us both equally. A passing conversation about the garden, a quick update, and a shared moment are quite satisfying, and I’m grateful to share them with him. I do miss the conversations with Granny about the various herbs, and the kitchen gardens and medicinal gardens of her youth. I miss the eager excited exchanges with my dear friend about garden plans and new roses, and her delight over pictures shared over the years. I miss my Dad’s amusement that what had been such drudgery for me as a kid has become something I truly love as a grown woman, and our conversations about the garden as a metaphor, and how we change and grow in life.

So, I drove into the city with my thoughts. It was a pleasant drive, and as I reached the city I found myself wondering what I need most to take care of this fragile vessel, right now? Do I need “down time” at home, in the garden, and more shared connected time with my Traveling Partner? I can easily make a strong case for that. Do I need “down time” in the form of a short getaway, a chance to fully immerse myself in my own thoughts, to read, to write, to paint, to enjoy the stillness of solitude? I feel that, too. I’m in a peculiar “in between place” with myself, and I’m not at all sure what will serve best to satisfy moments of restlessness or ease the internal chaos. I reflect on that and sip my coffee, as daybreak arrives, revealing a cloudy sky.

…Is it too soon for comfortable camping…?

…Can I get an affordable room on the coast and watch the tide come and go for a day or two…?

…Do I even want to be away from the comfort of home at all…?

…Every day away from home is a day away from my garden, and it’s Spring…

I sigh out loud, feeling mildly annoyed with myself. I’d email my dear friend and get her thoughts on it, but… she’s not replying to email, these days, and no longer answers texts. We are mortal creatures, and it’s damned inconvenient, sometimes. :-\

My thoughts bring me back to missing departed dear ones, far away friends, and fond memories of other times and places, other gardens. I sip my coffee as the dawn becomes day. I remind myself to bring up my “what to do about me?” questions with my Traveling Partner; he’s always got useful perspective and good ideas to share. I’m very fortunate to have a partner who supports me taking care of myself properly, and doesn’t grief me over needing time away, when I do. He sees me from a different perspective than I see myself, and I often find his thoughts quite useful for improving my perspective.

…I think of my Traveling Partner, hopefully still sleeping, and my heart fills with love. I’m very fortunate. I sip my coffee and finish this moment with gratitude and quiet joy, and thoughts of garden tasks yet to be completed. The work day stretches ahead of me, and the afternoon on the other side will be another chance to be in the garden for some little while. I smile, and get ready to begin again. 😀

Tags be present, begin again, breathe exhale relax, conversations with the dead, emotional self sufficiency, garden, gardening, Gardening as a metaphor, herbs and roses, it's a metaphor, perspective, practicing the practices, ptsd, relationships matter, seeds of change, self-care, starting something, taking care of me, The Art of Being, there are verbs involved, what are you planting?, what matters most?

Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, loneliness, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Roses, Spring, The Art of Being

Ring, Zing, Buzz

March 24, 2024 //

I’m waiting for the sun on a Sunday morning. The forecast is for rain, but it isn’t raining here, now. Across the highway, and further still across some fields, suburban lights glitter low on the horizon. This is no wilderness, although the trail I’ll walk feels at least a bit remote, down along the Tualatin river. Daybreak is approaching. Soon. In the meantime, I sit with my thoughts, listening to passing cars and the ring, zing, buzz of my tinnitus. It’s a quiet morning and at least for now, my tinnitus is the loudest thing I hear.

A break in the clouds reveals the blue of the morning sky. Daybreak is not helpful for walking, this morning. Anyway, I am still waiting for the park gate to open. The lower marsh trail I can reach from this parking space just outside the park is seasonal, and off limits until May. Frankly, some mornings (many), it’s tempting to walk the seasonal trail anyway, although it is off limits this time of year, but doing so would come with additional risks; it’s a lowland trail along the edges of the marsh, often muddy and sometimes flooded in spots. It would be just a bit more stupid to walk it in near darkness than I prefer to be. Also, these sorts of community spaces rely on people following the rules in place to protect them (both the spaces and the people using them), to maintain their beauty for years to come and new generations.

… So, I wait…

I sit with my thoughts, enjoying the stillness. It’s a mild Spring morning and a good one for walking. The cloudy sky hints at rain. I’m glad I spent time in the garden yesterday. Between the gardening and the weather, it definitely feels like Spring here. I’m grateful for the change of seasons. Another new beginning.

I feel a poignant sorrow that my recently deceased dear friend missed the coming of Spring. No tears. I have the sense that she “chose her time”, and I can only honor her memory and respect her choice. I’m okay; we are mortal creatures. I’m fortunate to have shared so much time with her.

The park gate opens with a quiet “clang”. There’s enough light to see the trail. The day and this walk are ahead of me, and that seems like a worthwhile direction to go…

Tags be here now, begin again, do your best, gardening, grief, grieving, how to meditate, meditation, my results vary, perspective, practicing the practices, self-care, sitting with my thoughts, spring, sufficiency, taking care of me, the clock is ticking, walking my own path, what are you planting?, you reap what you sow

Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, grief, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, turning 60, women

Beginning Again is a Practice

March 23, 2024 //

I’m at a favorite trailhead waiting for the sun, or at least enough daylight to safely walk the trail on this foggy morning. I’m also waiting for the park gate to open, which should be any minute now. Another early walker shows up, and just sits idling at the gate, instead of parking and waiting. I don’t take that personally; not my vehicle, not my choice, not my business. I’m ready to walk but not feeling impatient about it.

Yesterday evening my Traveling Partner and I enjoyed a lovely somewhat romantic very connected evening listening to music together, but it ended on a sour note. I wrapped up my day with some quiet time reading, hoping to avoid aggravating him further. When I woke this morning my head was still full of hurt feelings and irritation. Pointless and not constructive, over a moment that was just a moment. So… I used the drive to the trailhead to sort of sift through my feelings, supporting my emotional needs by acknowledging my feelings and developing an understanding of why I still felt hurt, and whether that had to do with some legitimate concern needing some follow-up, or perhaps just me holding on to shit because that’s what human beings often do. Having decided it was more “just holding on to shit” than anything else, I proceeded to just let it go. Yes, there are verbs involved, but it’s quite doable to let small shit go.

It’s a new day. For me, a new day is a sort of “cheat code” for moving on from shit I’d like to let go of. It’s a nice moment that draws a sharp line between some moment and this new day unfolding ahead of me. Useful. I breathe, exhale, and relax. The foggy morning envelopes the car. I wait for day light.

My Traveling Partner greets me when he wakes. We briefly discuss errands, and my plan for the day begins to develop: a trip to the store, a stop by a local merchant on the way home, waffles for breakfast, and some time in the garden later, planting spinach starts and kitchen herbs. It sounds like a lovely day!

… But first? A quiet walk along river and marsh on a foggy morning. Then, I’ll begin again, again. 😁

Tags always do your best, be here now, begin again, breathe, do the work, humans being human, hurt feelings, in the garden, let it go, let small shit stay small, meditation, metaphors, people are human, practicing nonattachment, practicing the practices, ptsd, taking care of me, TBI, the journey is the destination, there are verbs involved, walk it off, working at love

Categories Allegories, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, The Big 5, turning 60

Moments & People

March 22, 2024 //

Another new day, and I’m feeling good about it. It’s a Friday, my calendar is pretty light, and it’s payday – all practical details that are a suitable foundation to a pleasant morning. It’s early, not yet daybreak. The office is very quiet, and I’m working with the lights out, letting me see the nuances of the sunrise, when it comes. I’m sipping my coffee and thinking of moments, and of people. I’ve got a song stuck in my head, which I woke with. It’s one that my Traveling Partner plays for me, and hearing it fills me with warm affection and a sense of romantic connection. My inbox is full of email from friends, replies to recent emails I sent to them. I’m eager to take time to reply to each one, but that moment is not now.

…Nice start to the day…

I sip my coffee, and consider the day, the moment, the upcoming weekend, the things that matter most to me, and dear friends (most of whom are quite far away, these days, others who are nearer… well… we all behave as though we’re far away, anyway, welcome to the 21st century).

I drove into the city wrapped in a soft misty rain. I smile thinking about it; it’s the sort of rain a garden full of tender sprouts and seedlings really loves. The thought carries me to my garden, and I think about the rose that has arrived, and is ready to plant, and I think about which seeds can now be sown (is it time to plant beans?) and reminding myself to get out there and weed the flower beds before the friend who cuts my lawn undertakes the task (being helpful) – he isn’t reliably good at telling the seedlings of young flowers from the seedlings of weeds (me either, sometimes, but I do know where I’ve put seeds). I grin at my eagerness to do this bit of manual labor; as a kid at home, it was one of my absolute least preferred chores to find assigned to me on a weekend day! Funny how we grow to embrace some of the things we hated growing up. Time in the garden as a kid was just a lot of unpleasant toiling with no value to me personally (that I could understand at the time). Now, time in my garden is my time, well-spent, appreciated, and thoroughly enjoyed – and not in spite of the work involved, but often because of it. My garden, my time, reflecting my thinking and choices, and done with love to be shared with my Traveling Partner (who isn’t so into it, but loves it along with me, because I love it so much).

…My thoughts about the garden carry me back to my thoughts about love, and friendship, and the moments we choose to share with those dear to us. I put the song that’s stuck in my head at the top of my playlist and hit “play”; it’s time to begin again.

Tags be here now, begin again, emotional self sufficiency, friends, gardening, I'm in the garden, it's a metaphor, love, meditation, Moments, perspective, practicing the practices, taking care of me, The Art of Being, there are verbs involved, what have you planted in the garden of your heart?

Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Moments, Perspective, Practices, Roses, Sleepless Nights, Spring, The Art of Being, turning 60

Words Matter

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Rites of Spring

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Ring, Zing, Buzz

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Beginning Again is a Practice

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Moments & People

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