Archives for the month of: February, 2025
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1 Year Without my Dear Friend

February 28, 2025 //
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I’ve taken the day off work. I’m not really fit for working, today. The loss of my Dear Friend one year ago weighs heavily on my heart today. I slept poorly, plagued by sorrowful restless dreams. I left the house early and headed to the seashore, a place both my Dear Friend and my Granny loved. I feel closer to them any time I am at the seashore.

I arrived just before daybreak, too early for breakfast. I parked at a favorite beachfront spot and waited with my thoughts and the coffee I bought for the drive (but barely touched). It is a foggy, misty morning, well-suited to grieving and thinking thoughts.

Sand and sea, and solitude.

I sit on the sea wall, in the morning chill, listening to the gulls overhead and watching daybreak become dawn. Cloud cover obscures any hint of sunrise. I’m okay with that. Slow tears fall. I miss my friend as I sit here watching, listening, waiting… What am I waiting for? Grief to fade? It’s an unrealistic expectation. She was too dear to me, and too much a part of the woman I have become over the years of our friendship. More so even than the son who was my partner for a time, which makes me laugh somewhat inappropriately as my tears fall. Grief is funny like that; it makes its own rules.

The year that has passed since my Dear Friend’s death has been mostly too busy for grieving, beyond the most minimal momentary sorrows that overcame me unexpectedly now and then. I immersed myself in the busy-ness of life, work, and caregiving of my injured Traveling Partner. There was so much I would have shared with my Dear Friend, and I have felt her absence deeply. So… I’m here, now, taking time to feel my feelings, and to grieve honestly, without reservation. No holding back. No excuses. Just me, her, and the seashore, alone with my thoughts and memories, my cherished joys, and my moments of regret. Were there things I wish I had said? Definitely. Do I wish I had visited more often and sooner? Yes. Could I have been a better friend? A better person? More helpful and present in times of need? Yeah. Still though, in spite of those very human regrets, I’m also celebrating the joy and wonder that was our close friendship of almost 30 years. The things we did say, the moments we shared, the wise counsel we exchanged over the years, however geographically distant our residences happened to be at a given time.

… She helped me get past my conviction that I couldn’t do math, and taught me basic algebra (in my 30s), and showed me that math was just another sort of language – one that I could learn. I’ve benefited greatly from that teaching, too, subsequently going on to make my living (for a long time) in a field of endeavor reliant on relatively complicated math. Over the years we enjoyed many conversations about math, numbers, and various number theories. Good times.

… I miss her…

A hint of an idea for a bite of breakfast develops, but it’s too early still. I drive down the coast a bit further to another spot I like. I walk on the beach, listening to the sea birds, and the crash of the waves. Tide coming in? Going out? I watch for a little while, hands jammed into my pockets for warmth. I make a mark on the beach with my foot and watch the waves crashing in awhile longer. The tide is coming in. I smile to myself and walk on. The fog begins to thicken down on the beach. I walk back to the car thinking about breakfast and hot coffee.

Some time later on a foggy morning.

Breakfast was pleasant and relaxed. I had a cozy seat by a warm fire. I enjoyed the hot coffee, properly made and freshly brewed. The meal was well prepared, a half portion of biscuits and gravy. Instead of pork sausage gravy, it was crab , unexpected, but quite delicious. After breakfast I returned to my wandering and my thoughts. I would have loved to have had my Dear Friend’s company at breakfast; I think she would have enjoyed that place. (I know I always do, and it is my favorite breakfast spot in the area.)

I sit awhile in this particular beachside location, watching the tide come in, and taking occasional pictures as the light changes, changing the view. I am listening to the gulls. I sit with my recollections of the many times on similar trips I have sent my Dear Friend pictures of this or that – some view, or a snapshot of wildlife, or a flower – and shared my thoughts on how I might paint that scene. I don’t consider her to have been my “muse”, but she was deeply appreciative, and a fond fan of my art. Being an artist herself, she understood what moved me, and how to share her thoughts with me in ways that were reliably encouraging and thought-provoking. She often understood things about what I had communicated in colors, on paper or canvas, that I hadn’t explicitly acknowledged myself. I miss those things.

Time passes, the fog begins to dissipate.

Siletz Bay slowly refills, seawater covering the mud flats inch by inch. I sit quietly, enjoying the solitude, and the sound of gulls enjoying the morning their own way.  I watch flocks of sea birds, some drifting over the calm water of the bay, others lifting as a group, taking flight and passing by overhead. Sunshine begins to break through, here and there.

My Traveling Partner pings me a greeting, and checks that I made the trip safely. I wish him good morning, and confirm that I arrived safely. I feel loved. Tears spill over again. I don’t have any reason why, but I don’t do anything to stop them, or trouble myself with overthinking the moment. I just feel the feelings as they come, and let them pass when they will. I needed this time for feeling feelings, that’s clear to me.

I decide to make my way further down the coast… This spot is becoming a bit crowded.

Boiler Bay

I take my time walking the muddy path around the edge of the small state park at Boiler Bay. There’s a lot to see here, for someone into rocks and waves and sea birds. The crashing and booming of the waves bringing in the tide are intense and the spray reaches the fence where it is closest to the rocky edge of the cliff.

Some waves strike the rocks so hard it sounds like gunfire.

I linger a long while in this place. Often crowded in summer months, it is almost deserted today, except for a small assortment of photographers, decked out with very serious camera gear. We pass each other on the path, each of us pausing here and there for some particular view. Each having our own version of this peculiarly shared experience. There is a common purpose, demonstrated by the unusual lack of conversation, even in groups; no one wants to ruin someone’s pictures or videos.

There is a crow checking out the goings on. He has no reluctance about making a racket when someone is filming. lol I sit nearby on a picnic table, watching him watching me for some little while.

The cold begins to stiffen my fingers and I return to the car to warm up. I think about all the beachfront places my Dear Friend and I had talked about seeing together, rather long ago when she was still up for traveling. After a few minutes of thought, I decide to head back up the coast to “Road’s End”, and begin again.

The path isn’t always easy.

The path down to the beach from the pull-off at Road’s End is steep and treacherous, unpaved and pocked with loose rocks… unless of course I go a few steps further on, to the proper paved path, which is much less treacherous but still ankle twistingly steep. I’m grateful to have my cane with me. I slowly take the walk down to the beach, insisting to myself that I not give up on this sort of thing. “Use it or lose it”, I mutter to myself, thinking of my Dear Friend and those last couple years, by which point she had lost most of her ability to walk more than the few painful steps the length of her small home. Long before then, she had encouraged me to keep walking, and extracted from me a commitment to avoid “losing my legs” for as long as I am able. I keep walking. At the base of the path down to the beach I look back grimly. It’s going to be a hell of a trudge back up that steep path. “Good for you, though, ya lazy bitch,” I comment to myself, more amused than annoyed.

The sun has finally come out. Midday approaches as I return to the car. Another pause to breathe the sea air. I sit with my thoughts awhile, before I make my way to the next beach, and another moment of reflection.

A bench in the sun and the sound of the sea.

The day feels warmer now. I’ve got a seat on a quiet bench in the sunshine. The fog has receded, appearing now as a cloud bank on the distant horizon. The sky is blue and my tears have dried. It’s a new day, a nice one. I sigh to myself, and smile at the little brown bird that took a seat next to me quite fearlessly. She’s having her own experience, and eyes me curiously. I want to ask her “are you my Dear Friend joining me for a moment?”, but I’m not sure I believe that sort of thing at all (I’m also not sure I don’t). I know my Dear Friend would have been quite delighted to make an appearance as a small brown bird. She sings me a bit of her song, then flies away.

My Traveling Partner interrupts my moment, reaching out about a bill that wants paying. Real life. I do the needful. Then, I breathe exhale and relax and gaze out over the sea, thinking thoughts of love, and art, and cherished dear friends who are never truly gone, after a lifetime of close friendship. Friendships of such depth don’t end with death. Death is just another change of address.

I needed to take this time for myself, to grieve, and to celebrate. To savor a friendship that has meant so much to me that it endures beyond the end of one finite mortal lifetime. We are mortal creatures. Change is. It’s only another time to begin again… There are more beaches to see, and more paths to walk.

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Categories Allegories, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, joy, loneliness, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Moments, pain, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, The Art of Being, women, Words

Familiar Unknown Places

February 27, 2025 //
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I didn’t know I was dreaming until I woke. It all seemed quite familiar and very real. I was in a beautifully appointed very modern corporate space, pale hues of bamboo and beige upholstery, live greenery here and there, and fresh, interesting “living wall” accents. The high ceilings and “open office” arrangements were sparsely populated with small groups of Millennial and Gen Z professionals, speaking quietly. Escalators (so many escalators) let from area to area, seeming to cascade downward or rise to new levels around each corner. There were stairs and landings, and small glass offices. There were conference rooms, and the hushed background noise of the ventilation masked the sound of traffic outside.

I knew without being told that this place was in Portland, Oregon. I knew without having to ask that this was some massive corporate “start up” that had long-since outgrown any sort of authenticity, well-established and corrupt. The beauty was all image, no substance. Still, I wandered looking around with a vague sense of purposeful excitement. I felt simultaneously that I somehow “belonged” but was also an outsider.

There were numerous little cafe places here and there, adjacent to working areas. The espresso was hot. The pastries were crisp and flaky. The lines were… yeah. There were lines. lol I waited, now and then, and I wandered. I started at one end of this… building? And I walked the length of it, finding myself aware that it was less like an open world than a specific path, A to B, a fixed journey, no detours or side paths at all, although it often looked like there could be. I reached a place, and a person, and was greeted as a welcome – and expected – friend by someone I vaguely recalled. Didn’t I work with him once at some other place? He invited me to sit, and introduced me to some other, who also welcomed me as expected. Was I there to work? I couldn’t remember changing jobs…but I knew without asking that this place would be paying me a lot of money. I also knew, immediately, that the delights of the espresso, the pastry, and the decor would never ever make up for the corporate hell that this place was going to be…

I woke abruptly, realizing I had been dreaming. Grateful to be where I am, doing what I do. Strange dream. It lingers in my thoughts, reminding me of places I have been, and of former jobs and colleagues from long ago. I find myself wondering what I was trying to tell myself…?

I sigh quietly, looking around this co-work space. Even more modern than the office building in my dream, my current job has no offices at all, anywhere. They are not needed, nor are they truly useful. We work together productively in virtual spaces, and it is enough. Still… the mail has to go somewhere. It comes here. This quiet co-work space with it’s open office space surrounded by small private offices, decorated in pale hues of fake wood finishes, gray carpet with colorful rugs, and “art” on the walls – all copies. It’s fine, and I’m not criticizing, it fully meets the needs of those who use the space, and the artifice tends to be in the decor, instead of in the souls of the people working here. That seems like a good thing.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I look over my calendar and sip my coffee. I’m fortunate to enjoy the work I do. It’s a routine workday, and it’s time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, breathe, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Moments, Perspective, The Art of Being, Words

Something On My Mind

February 26, 2025 //
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I’m sipping coffee and feeling irritated by something I read. I decide not to rant about it, and sit quietly reflecting on it instead. Words can come later. It makes sense to “get my head right” before I start blathering foolishly about something I’ve had an emotional reaction to, but about which I lack clarity of thought. All in good time, eh? Other voices can lead with emotions, I’ll sit this one out for a time.

… This is sometimes a difficult choice to make…

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I’ve taken the day off work to handle a project with the help of the Anxious Adventurer, wrapping up the move of household goods between storage units. The clock is ticking, but there’s only the largest items left, and we’ve got a truck for all that. Soon. For now, I sit with my coffee and my thoughts.

I am thinking about language, and the way it functions, which is to say “by agreement”. Without a shared understanding of the definitions of terms being used, there is no reliably good communication. No “understanding”. How often do you pause a contentious conversation to clarify the meanings of key words and phrases? How often do you verify that you and those you are conversing with have a shared understanding of what words mean? Conmen, grifters, “marketing experts”, and all manner of manipulative individuals, rely on the likelihood that we can be persuaded to think or behave in some useful way based on what we thought we understood them to have said, without clearly understanding what they actually meant by the words they used. Just saying it’s generally a good idea to check in on such things, to verify shared understanding of words being used, and to avoid being misled by misused language.

I watch daybreak arrive, thinking my thoughts. Lovely quiet morning, so far. Soon enough it will be time to begin again. Already.

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Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, Logic & Reason, meditation, Moments, Perspective, Practices, The Art of Being, Words

Start Where You Are

February 25, 2025 //
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A friend asked me a question, and asked for “some steps, you know, some basic practices” because they were “freaking out with all this chaos and scary shit going on” (I know, me too, right?). I said I’d do my best. I hope it helps. ❤

Where does this path lead?

Sometimes it’s a difficult journey, this “life” thing, eh? It doesn’t have to be has difficult as it sometimes seems. It is an unfortunate truth that we often complicate our situation needlessly, sometimes through poor decision-making, sometimes through lack of clarity in our thinking, sometimes just because we have feelings and don’t reliably deal with those skillfully. But, the good news is that we do actually have choices, and tools at our disposal (like critical thinking, perspective, and non-attachment). We can take things a step at a time…

  1. Start where you are. Any journey is more difficult if you are trying to begin from somewhere other than where you actually stand. Honest self-reflection, acceptance, and making a point to test your assumptions and reality check your expectations is really useful.
  2. Breathe, exhale, relax. Maybe you don’t have “a meditation practice”. Maybe you don’t need one? It’s reliably helpful to “take a minute” to calm yourself when you are stressed out. Change your perspective or your environment, however briefly, and break out of your rumination or your stress spiral. Let small shit stay small. Let things go that you’re getting hung up on, if only for a little while. Take a break. Walk away from it.
  3. Take care of your “fragile vessel”. Such a simple thing – self-care really matters, particularly when life feels hardest. Are you getting enough rest? Are you eating healthy meals? Drinking enough water? How about a shower and some clean clothes? Have you taken prescription medications that may affect your feeling of wellness (or failed to take them)? Are you in pain – and are you doing something to ease that, if you can?
  4. No media, no doomscrolling. This one is a small thing, but a big deal; if you’re already stressed to the breaking point, feeling overwhelmed, or struggling to manage the details in your life, I promise you that reading the news, or doomscrolling endlessly through various feeds on your device(s) is not helpful. Put it down. Silence your notifications. Put the device on Do Not Disturb. Walk away from the tether that ties you to constant demands for your attention. Go outside. Take a walk. Read a book. Sit down over a cup of tea or coffee with an actual human being out in the world and have a conversation. (See point 2.)
  5. Put things into perspective. This one is both difficult and easy. Easy to say, sometimes more difficult to put into practice, just being real with you. Your perspective on a difficult moment may be filtered through the lens of the stress you feel, or prior experiences that weren’t really quite the same. You may be struggling with your chaos and damage, and past traumas may be coloring your understanding. Take a step back. (Don’t take dumb shit personally.) Consider the moment from more than one angle. This one moment, right here, is unique and unrepeatable – and it will pass (good or bad). Let it.
  6. Practice non-attachment. This is a practice that sometimes has some poignance (at least for me); let it go. Just that. Whatever it is, don’t cling to it. Let it go. If you lost the thing you cling to so tightly (whether it is an object, relationship, or sense of identity), things might change, sure, but – wouldn’t you (most likely) be okay if you allow yourself to be? We sometimes cling so tightly to something that isn’t even quite real. Some of what hurts us most we’ve completely made up – it’s safe to let that shit go.
  7. Practice gratitude. I’m not even kidding. I’m also not suggesting that being grateful for the struggle itself, or the pain you’re in, or this complicated moment is the goal. Not at all. I’m suggesting that being grateful for other things, the small wins, the pleasant moments, the little joys, the handful of things that are reliably part of your individual good fortune has real value. It’s difficult for anger, anxiety, or sorrow to compete for one’s attention with heartfelt gratitude. Authenticity matters, and gratitude can’t be “forced”, but there are likely to be quite a few little things for which you are truly grateful. Make room for those. Reflect on, and cherish those. It may give you a firm foundation to stand on before you…
  8. Take the next step. Life is a journey. Most of our path we walk alone. Sometimes we’re fortunate enough to share the journey, but it is still our journey. We’re each having our own experience. Walk on. Sure, have an eye on where you think you’d like to get to, but understand an important detail; the journey is the destination. Do your best to be the person you’d most like to be, moment to moment. Make those choices – the ones that allow you to walk your path, authentically.
  9. Be here, now. Spend less time on regret (the past is behind you) and worry (the future has not yet happened and may not be whatever you fear it might). Be present, in this moment. Now. This takes us back to point 1, you may have noticed… “start where you are”.
As with so many journeys, it isn’t always clear where the path leads.

Breathe. Exhale. Relax. You can begin again. Each time you stumble, pick yourself up, and begin again. Each time you fail, learn from that experience. You’ve got this. It’s your path, your journey, no one can handle this one better than you can.

Staying on the path is a choice, and there are verbs involved.
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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, grief, Healthy Living, loneliness, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, The Art of Being, War and News of War, Words

Wheaton’s Law

February 24, 2025 //
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Are you “one of the good guys”, or are you just an asshole? (Are you familiar with Wheaton’s Law, and it’s history? There’s even a rap song celebrating Wheaton’s Law.) These are trying times, you’ve got choices. You can choose to be “one of the good guys” in some legitimate and authentic way, beyond whatever half-assed self-serving measures you may be inclined to rationalize, or you can truly make a difference in the world around you. It’s something to think about. I’m not telling you what to do – hell, maybe you are already one of the good guys, already doing your best every single day to make the world just a little better…? If so, I thank you for that. It can’t easy.

…I know I definitely don’t find it “easy”; there are verbs involved…

On Saturday, apparently, national park rangers at Yosemite flew the American flag upside down from El Capitan. For real. Wow. Freakin’ park rangers engaging in visible protest in a relatively bold act of civil disobedience. I feel a certain amount of civic pride as an American to see that. I wish them well.

…Park rangers and librarians, the superheroes of the 21st century…

These are emotionally trying times for people. It’s important to avoid rationalizing terrible behavior by those in power. It’s important to check every fact. It’s important to call out liars for their lies. It’s important to hold on to our kindness, compassion, and wisdom. It’s important to remember that every human being hurt by terrible policy and bad acts are indeed human beings, worthy of dignity, of care, and of being treated equitably and respectfully. People ahead of policy. The goal should not be set based on “acceptable collateral damage” when we’re talking in terms of human lives, human quality of life, and human rights. Figuring out how to treat people sufficiently well may be a question to be answered, but there is no question whether to treat people well. That seems, to me, like minimum basic human decency. Just saying. Do better.

Also? Stop electing assholes into important public offices. (This should probably go without saying.)

I sigh and sip my coffee, and think about a far away friend dealing with his own shit, figuring out his own path. No map. So many choices. It’s easy to become distracted by the chaos and bullshit going on in the world and overlook the little things (the simple joys, the solvable problems), but there’s so much less any one of us can do about the chaos of the world – besides vote with care, and speak truth to power, and do our own humble best to avoid being a major asshole ourselves – and losing focus on the things within our own control ultimately adds to the sorrows of the entire fucking world. It’s a weird puzzle, isn’t it?

Simple pleasures can be so satisfying.

The weekend passed gently, and I spent it mostly focused on hearth and home. Time well-spent. Simple joys like home-cooked meals, and a tidy house can really add up. It was worthwhile to invest my time and emotional energy in the activities of my own life, and I spent very little time on matters outside my own home, family, or community. (Enough to be distressed by what absolute raging assholes some people can be, and saddened by how easily so many otherwise well-intentioned people can be bamboozled by powerful or wealthy jerkwads. Yes, I’m being intentionally crass and disrespectful of such individuals – they do not deserve better. They have earned my disrespect and my loathing. It upsets me too much, and there is so little I can do about it in any obvious way, I have to be careful to avoid letting it overwhelm me.)

I did notice something while I was out and about on errands, though, and it’s not the first time. A particular petty bit of fraud (maybe “dishonesty” is more accurate?) that I find distasteful; “student driver” bumper stickers on cars used and owned by, being driven by, people who are definitely and obviously not “student drivers”. It was awhile before I caught on to this particularly petty fraud. Why would someone do this? It is dishonest. It is a lie. (I mean, unless you’re actually a student driver, obviously.) What is the point? These sorts of “little” cheats undermine a person’s entire ethical foundation. Why do that? (Go ahead, I’ll wait…) How does a person justify this particular lie? Every time I see it, I wonder. Every time I see it, I know I am seeing someone I can’t trust to be honest and true. I wonder if the people who use this “strategy” understand that they’ve sold out their integrity? I think about it awhile and sip my coffee. Humans being human, it’s likely that such people have found some way to rationalize their behavior. Just as people who vote a monster or a fraud or a rapist or a dictator into office likely find some way to rationalize their terrible choice, even as the consequences of their choice become clear to them in painful ways they did not (or refused to) see coming.

I think my point is that we’re all making choices, and the choices we make do say something about who we each are. The outcome matters. My question is, are you “one of the good guys”? Are you even trying? Are you thinking critically about your own decision-making? Do you consider the potential consequences of your actions, not just for you, yourself, but also for the people around you – and the other human beings in the world who may be affected by what you may choose? Could you do better than you did yesterday? Better than you’re doing right now?

It’s time to begin again.

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Categories 2024 Election, Allegories, breathe, Free Will, Logic & Reason, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being, The Big 5, War and News of War, winter, Words
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