Monday.
[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]
I’m not inclined to complain about a Monday. It does feel odd to get back to work after a long weekend away. Our anniversary celebration was delightful, and I’m still thinking about the meal, the wine, the conversation, and the warmth and joy of being in love with my best friend. It’s a nice place to be in life. I’m fortunate and grateful.
… Still…it is Monday, and I’m wrestling with that, a bit. My tinnitus is crazy loud, and my back aches. My left foot is unusually painful, and my Spring allergies, as mild as they are, are vexing me. The sky is stormy and gray, but only in one direction. I sigh to myself; it’s a very human experience.
…A good cup of coffee will put me right, I’m sure… I mean, mostly, eh? There’s not much to do about the various aches and pains and inconveniences of adulthood and aging, in the current conditions of this modern age.
I look at my hands. They are beautifully manicured and I’m pleased that there are no “stress tells” like torn cuticles or bitten nails. I’ve been working hard through pure will to refrain from tearing at my cuticles and fingertips. It’s not an easy sort of change to make. Changes upon changes upon changes, and I wonder briefly if the woman I once was would see the woman I am as a success or a betrayal?
I breathe, exhale, and relax. Sure, it’s Monday, but it’s a pretty nice one so far, and the thought of my roses blooming and the tomatoes I planted this weekend puts a smile on my face. The smile becomes a feeling of loving and being loved when I think of my Traveling Partner and the job he is working on. My thoughts wander to errands and garden tasks and things that make life feel busy, and I pull my attention back to here and now. There’s time later for to-do lists and errands. I grin with satisfaction; I remembered to water the lawn and still got a good walk in, before the work day begins.
I glance at the time and prepare to begin again.
Evening Light 
I appreciate that you have been adding this to the Evening Light, “[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]”. I know you have had positions in companies that are heavy on tech in the past, and excuse the question if you are retired now, but are you seeing more and more AI infused into your or neighboring positions?
I’m definitely not retired yet – bills to pay – and yes, AI tools and the expectation that people will use them is being pretty well crammed into every workflow it can be wedged into even on the loosest b.s. pretext. I dread the long-term consequences, but here we all are. To feel both ethical and compliant, my approach personally has been to use them as little as possible, in only the safest generic use-cases (no “vibe coding” or creative work) and deeply exploring the latent risk potential and known AI flaws and tells. No AI outputs leave my department without careful scrutiny by two human reviewers. I do my best to find balance and fidelity to my personal values and ethics, while being practical about the requirements of my employer. Sometimes it is annoying, but I suspect it will soon be clear where the wiser path really lies. I hope so, at least.
That last line landed hard for me — “I suspect it will soon be clear where the wiser path really lies.” Because that’s exactly where I keep getting stuck. Not the what to do right now part — like you, I’ve found my workable compromises, the guardrails I can live with, the lines I won’t cross. The angst isn’t really about the daily practice. It’s about the unknowing.
I can’t plan around fog. I can’t tell whether the careful, cautious posture I’m holding now will look like wisdom in five years or like I missed the boat. I can’t tell whether the people going all-in will look like pioneers or cautionary tales. And I can’t tell how long this in-between stretches — months? A decade? Long enough that “soon it will be clear” becomes the thing we tell ourselves while another year goes by?
What I’m learning, slowly, is that planning around the not-knowing might be the actual skill — not planning toward a resolution that may not arrive on any timeline I’d recognize. Holding the values steady, keeping the practice honest, and accepting that clarity might be a luxury this particular era doesn’t hand out. Your “find balance and fidelity” framing is probably the most honest answer available. They say change is the only constant — but even that’s changing now. Change is coming faster than anyone has an acceptable answer for, and I think that’s the part I’m really wrestling with.
Thank you for sharing your experience here. Yes, I see “planning around the not knowing” as the most useful and practical course of action. When I start to feel stuck or frightened, I fall back on practicing non-attachment. It can be hard to let go of what feels most precious now, even if only in my thinking, but truly it’s a helpful exercise.