Archives for category: 2024 Election

It’s been awhile since I walked the marsh trail. I’ve mostly been staying closer to home, aside from an overnight trip to the coast – was that just last weekend?! It already seems like ages ago. My Traveling Partner woke me at 05:00, he was already awake. I got up, dressed, and headed for the trail. Lovely morning for it.

Lush green hues of Spring under a pink sky.

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

As I stepped onto the trail and started down the path, I found myself preoccupied with war, and fretting about American aggression, Israel’s genocide of Palestine, Russia vs Ukraine, and continued flare ups of violence in the Middle East, Africa, and beyond. How is this not a world at war? I mean, seriously? What the actual fuck is wrong with humanity that we still tolerate (and foster) this kind of stupid violent nonsense? Why do we keep putting violent racist misogynist assholes into positions of power in the first place? How have we not, as a species, made the clear and obvious connection between global violence and its actual perpetrators? I just don’t understand how human beings can still be so g’damned violent and hateful, with so much historical evidence that it is destructive and wasteful and unlikely to achieve good outcomes. Fucking hell we are some stupid motherfuckers.

… Also, fuck Pete Hegseth and his ilk. He embodies the problem quite specifically with his hateful words, his misogyny, and his racism. Listening to this fuckwit trying to claim war is peace is so ridiculously “Animal Farm” and “1984” I just can’t believe he isn’t being mocked openly by far more people. Fiction masquerading as real life. This guy? Definitely not gonna make it to the heaven he says he believes in. He should RTFM. 😆 I shouldn’t laugh, because it isn’t funny. It’s terrifying and disappointing, and sad.

Do better. Do better than Pete Hegseth for sure. 🙄

It’s not hard to do better than a guy like Pete Hegseth; don’t kill anyone today, don’t fire people because you don’t like them, or because they are women, or people of color, or don’t share your religion. Don’t cut people down to make yourself feel large. Don’t pick fights. Don’t try to take what isn’t yours. You’d think people would learn this shit growing up.

I keep walking, and notice the Spring flowers along the trail. Beautiful and sweetly fragrant and unaware of the world’s unpleasantness and chaos.

Small purple flowers down in the grass.

I am delighted and distracted by the flowers. They pull me back into this moment, here, now. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I let the world go, and fill my senses with Spring, grateful that there are no bombs dropping here (not yet). I walk on.

I see meadow flowers, blossoms waving in the breeze.

I walk, watching the sunrise bring a new day to life. I smile and keep walking. The breeze is sweet with the scent of flowers.

I pass bushes covered in clusters of fragrant flowers and stop for a closer look.

I breathe in the scents of flowers as I walk, grateful that I didn’t inherit my mother’s terrible allergies. She loved flowers, but generally couldn’t be near even scentless florist roses and carefully selected bouquets suggested to be low allergen. I love to get close to the flowers and inhale the intoxicating scent, and feel uplifted. There have been times when I really felt as if the fragrance itself was getting me high.

Fruit trees, too.

I pass by a place that was likely a homestead sometime in the past. There are very old fruit trees in a neat little row at the edge of the meadow, where the trail bends towards the river. They smell delicious. I run my hand over the bark. Plum? Pear? Apple? I take another close smell, and look at the blossoms. I’m not certain and don’t really feel inclined to make more effort to figure it out. I walk on.

A pleasant stop along the way.

I finally get to my halfway point. It feels further than I remember. 😆 It’s only been a few weeks since I’ve been here. I laugh at my foolishness without any particular concern or criticism. I sit awhile watching the sunlight change the shadows and patterns of light on the meadow as the sun rises. I don’t have the trail to myself today, but passing photographers and walkers just wave or say “good morning” as they pass, barely noticing me, really. It’s fine.

I meditate and enjoy the breeze and the little birds flitting about. A large plump robin lands in the leaf litter near my feet and digs around for tasty morsels, pausing now and then to consider my presence. She gives a loud bit of song and flies off.

It’s a pretty morning. I’m glad I let my attention shift to the lovely flowers and I sit thinking about my garden.

In my garden the first rose has bloomed.

There is much to do – weeding and planting and taking time to sip a cup of tea and just be. Pleasant and peaceful moments wait for me in the garden. I yawn and sneeze, and sit enjoying the sunshine awhile longer. I’m in no hurry. I can begin again anytime. It’ll be soon enough, whenever I get to it. For now, “now” is enough.

There are moments of peace and joy in spite of a world rather pointlessly at war.

I’m sitting at the halfway point on my walk, on a Wednesday morning, thinking about halfway points, and Wednesdays, and walking some other trail than this one. Maybe this weekend I’ll head up the road to the nature park, or into the foothills to test myself on some less traveled trail or abandoned logging road? I sigh to myself. Even the most familiar path can have strange moments. This one, for example, now detours around a bit of construction.

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

What path will you take? Depending on where you are in life, the reply may be “what path is even available?”. The world seems pretty crazy, and more and more people seem to take comfort within the very narrow world of their device, and the apps that feed continuous AI slop into their vacant expressionless face holes. I’m saddened by that; we have so much more potential.

I’ll admit that I’m frankly resentful of, and resistant to, every new observation that yet another company is shoving some half-assed AI or LLM tool into an application or device I had previously valued. Generally speaking, it reliably represents a degradation in my experience as a user. I look for work arounds, alternatives, and sometimes just give up on that thing entirely. I’m not interested in being forced into costly mediocrity in order to satisfy shareholder illusions about user adoption of enshittified tools, services, or platforms.

… I’d rather walk a different path…

I breathe, exhale, and relax. G’damn I’ll be glad when this administration is washed away by time, and our gerontocratic representation finally ages out of the workforce, if only through the finality of mortal human lifetimes. We are mortal creatures. Fucking hell, do better, People. You do realize we chose this? Choose differently, if you want different outcomes, right? We could start with taxing billionaires (heavily – make them give back to the society they exploited to gain their wealth, and make them do it in cash). Another good step would be to strictly require clear ethical standards for anyone elected to office and all judges, and enforce it. No loopholes. Create firm prohibitions against profiting from public office, at all. I sigh. I’m so over corruption and profiteering and greed.

“You wouldn’t say stuff like this if you were rich.” Maybe not. It’s unlikely I’ll ever know; I’m not the kind of person who does the sorts of things it takes to become wealthy. Pull on that thread sometime, really take a look at the history of some great fortunes. Get back to me later on the behaviors and actions of people who build great wealth, and how ethical they were.

Be here, now. Breathe.

I breathe in the Spring air. It smells of flowers and trees and mown grass and damp earth. I let go of my vexation with the path America seems to be on, and sit with this lovely Spring moment. Sometimes that has to be enough. Choose your path. I’ll choose mine. We’re each having our own experience.

My getaway to the coast last weekend really re-energized me and refreshed my sense of things. I needed that restful time. I could easily have enjoyed my leisure for days or weeks, even months. I don’t work for a living because I want to. 😆 I’ve got a long list of things I’d rather be doing.

I’ve made choices in life that brought me to this place, and these circumstances. It’s not a bad life. Honestly, it’s pretty good and I have a lot to be grateful for. I’m fortunate. There are opportunities to choose, or choose differently. I walk the path I’m on, doing my best to make good use of my skills and knowledge, to gain more of each, and to live well without doing harm. It’s fucking complicated, sometimes. I think about the many times the temptation toward greed has complicated my own life. Choices.

Squirrels chase each other around a tree, as I watch. It seems an appropriate metaphor somehow. I glance at my watch and wonder if I’m wasting my time. Anyway. It’s a Wednesday, a work day, and it’s time to begin again.

Wow! I am so proud of the people of this rural county, and the surrounding communities in the area. The turn out for various local No Kings protests was amazing. This is an area that mostly voted for Trump. It’s good to see them objecting to fascism, explicitly, as well as standing proud and defiant against foreign wars. Seeing them lining the main streets of the towns of Yamhill county was an impressive and moving sight. I didn’t take pictures; I don’t want to put people at risk of retaliation.

…It gives me hope…

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

My Traveling Partner came home from his trip to the city a little early, yesterday. I was happy to have him back, though I was enjoying my solitude. I enjoy his company. The evening was a pleasant one. Pizza and a movie, delightfully wholesome.

I slept in this morning (for some values of “sleeping in”, and woke to find my beloved relaxing at the dining table. Instead of rushing off to catch the sunrise, I stayed for coffee and we lingered over conversation until the Anxious Adventurer was also up for the day, getting ready for a work shift. Eventually I left, and drove up the highway to the trailhead at the nature park nearby, grateful to have enjoyed that time at home; moments are fleeting and unrepeatable.

…”Each time for the first time, each moment the only moment.” Be here, now. Ichi-go ichi-e.” Life is for living

I chuckled to myself as I drove up the highway. The gray dawn had already come, and there was no colorful sunrise, only a smattering of raindrops. I’m glad I took time for coffee with my Traveling Partner. Time well spent.

This moment, too, is worth living.

The Spring greens of the meadow and marsh are almost luminous as I step down the trail. The forecast suggests temperatures are too chilly for planting, but the plants that are growing wild disagree. The forecasted frost for this morning never came to pass, and the morning is mild and a bit drizzly. I expect I’ll be in the garden later. The thought makes me smile as I walk.

I sigh contentedly, at my halfway point, and take a seat on a fence rail. For a moment, fascists and corrupt billionaires and politicians aren’t on my mind at all. I’m watching the marsh creatures beginning the day, and tasting the Spring on the breeze. Occasional raindrops tickle my face, but it’s not really raining. The oaks are waking, and the trees in the distance have taken on a green haze. It’s all quite beautiful. No bombs, no craters, no rubble; it’s pretty shameful that we make so much effort to destroy the peace and beauty of Spring in other lands. We’re not the “good guys” we claim to be, as a nation.

I sigh again, this time with a certain tired resignation. “Resist,” I remind myself. It really does matter. Speak truth to power. Do not yield to corruption or cruelty. Live the values that lead you on the path to becoming the person you most want to be. Choose wisely. Persist. We become what we practice. I smile thinking how often I repeat such lessons and aphorisms to myself. Each represents some step on this path, and some moment of recognition and learning.

I get to my feet and tackle a side trail with a short distance that is a bit steep. I have to work for this, it tests my fitness a little, but it tests my janky ankle rather a lot. It’s worth it. The view isn’t great, but the feeling of getting there is. Few people come this way. It’s a quiet spot for meditation and writing. It’s an opportunity for a new perspective, and a chance to begin again.

… The clock is ticking, and I’m wondering if we still have time to change the world…

If someone asked you whether you thought bombing a girl’s school and killing a 150 or more little girls and young women would be “okay with you” to make a point or send a message, or exert control over someone far away and likely unable to harm you directly, would you say yes? It seems unlikely. Maybe you should speak up about that? (I’m not going to link news articles or expose you to the images of the many graves being dug.) I don’t think what matters is whether you think your voice will be effective so much as it matters that you are true to your values such that you are willing to call obscene violence against innocents what it is, and to strongly object to it being done in your name, or in the name of some god you hope may favor you. Just saying.

Just saying.

I sigh to myself. I am grateful to be, for the moment, safe here on this trail, in a country where no bombs are dropping. I’m deeply offended that we’re delivering death from the sky to a foreign nation in partnership with a brutal apartheid regime, with no purpose beyond power. It’s ugly. War always is ugly. There are no beautiful wars. There are no winners, only blood and pain and death and destruction. We should know better by now.

A full moon setting at dawn.

The sunrise beat me to the trailhead this morning. This cold is slowing me down but is more a nuisance than anything serious. I breathe exhale and relax. I’m really enjoying this brief time at home just my Traveling Partner and I. It’s lovely and intimate and close. I’ve missed it. In spite of being sick the entire time, I’ve enjoyed it so much!

I watch the full moon set from the trail. So lovely. No war right here, now, just the trail and the trees and the sky overhead. I sit awhile with my thoughts, quietly. It’s enough. I’ll begin again… soon. For now, this quiet moment is mine.

…Then the rain begins…

Okay, so here we are. War. First things first; are there bombs dropping where you are, or is it a legitimate risk that they may? If yes, then please put this down and get to safety. I’ll still be around, later. You definitely have more important things to be concerned about, like safety, shelter, and potable drinking water.

Special Delivery, MC Frontalot – I earnestly wish this weren’t still so relevant.

If there are no bombs dropping where you are, and you are safe from harm, generally speaking, then please consider not immersing yourself in “war porn”. Read the news in words, no images if you must “stay current”. Or, you know, don’t. I’m not telling you what to do, just sharing what works for me.

I don’t want to watch bombs dropping – I already know what war looks like. I don’t need to watch hours of video footage of violence, destruction, and death. I have looked directly at the face of war. I don’t take it lightly, and don’t view it as necessary or needful or as a productive use of time and resources, at all. I am an anti-war army veteran. I’ve fought and been in combat. I’ve helped clean up damaged facilities and retrieved and cared for the dead. War is nothing to celebrate, even for the victorious; it is shameful, wasteful, and tragic.

People who wage war – who call the shots and send human beings to fight and die – don’t fight those wars or pay the price for the violence. I think they should. You want war? Then you pick up a weapon and go lead that fighting, you fucking monster. You go pull the bodies out from under the buildings you bombed. You answer to the grief stricken population.

I’m grateful no bombs are dropping here. I hope it always stays that way.

I take my usual morning walk feeling grateful and fortunate. I seem to be coming down with a cold (another one??), nonetheless, compared to being bombed, I’m quite fortunate. It is an ordinary Monday, following a lovely weekend.

I sigh to myself watching daybreak become a gray morning, without any hint of a colorful sunrise… but there’s also no rubble, no destruction, no death from above, no sirens blaring, no sounds of wailing or weeping. No fear. No stench of death or chaos. It’s another pleasant quiet morning at the edge of a small town, near where the vineyards meet the highway.

…We got so close to a world at peace, y’all…

Bombs or no bombs, it is a useful practice to take care of ourselves as best we can with the resources available. Breathe. Reflect. Be helpful, kind, and compassionate. Listen deeply. Lift people up. Use your words wisely, they are powerful.

I do my best to prepare my heart – and my resolve – to endure a world at war (again). I’m still hoping things may cool down once the billionaires and powerful grifters in office have what they want (that they could not simply purchase). I sit reflecting on how I can be truly helpful to the real human beings, the noncombatants affected by the trauma inflicted by war, if at all.

I take time for meditation. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I’m grateful to be where I am, and even who I am. It’s enough. It’s Monday, and it’s time to begin again.