Archives for category: 2024 Election
« Older Entries

What Are You Celebrating?

July 4, 2026 //
0

It is the actual 4th of July. What are you even celebrating? 250 years of… what, exactly? Or… are you celebrating something about the way things are, presently? Think about that. I’m not going to wait – this trail is ahead of me.

Where does this path lead? It’s an important question.

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

What are you celebrating today? America’s 250th birthday? The destruction of democracy at the hands of the corrupt and the foolish? Something more personal? (For a long time I celebrated my freedom and survival from my first marriage every July 4th – totally worth celebrating.) What does the day really mean to you? Is it only a third day off, and a cookout, followed by lackluster fireworks and the sound of sirens after some careless idiot blows his hand off misusing fireworks at home?

…250 years of racism and misogyny?..

On a lighter note, my Traveling Partner pointed out, a couple days ago, that we are observing the six year anniversary of moving into our little small town suburban home. Wow – already? I remember that first 4th of July in a new place, still moving in, no AC, listening to our neighbors blowing shit up until well past midnight. The house was stifling hot, the windows open to a breeze that never seemed enough to cool things down. (I’m glad we had the AC installed. Worth it.) I’m grateful to be free from the constant nagging awareness that my rented housing wasn’t really mine, noisy neighbors and all. Worth celebrating. We worked hard to get here. We are fortunate to be here.

A view of the Willamette River from a convenient rock.

I find a spot to sit awhile and watch the river flow past. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I exchange good morning greetings with my beloved. The lovely pinks and golds of the sunrise that I enjoyed getting here are long gone. The day looks overcast, and there is no hint of sunshine for now, although the forecast indicates a sunny hot day. (Maybe the government should have kept their meteorologists and weather data gathering agencies intact after all? Shortsighted fuckwits.)

I inhale the scented summer air. Flowers. Clover, blackberries, and St John’s Wort mostly, and some wild roses here and there. The combination is pleasant. I exhale slowly, and repeat, filling my lungs and my senses. This is a lovely spot to sit with my thoughts.

I watch young squirrels playing in the branches that hang over the trail. The saplings sway under their weight, flexing and springing back as they jump from branch to branch. While my attention is diverted, a chipmunk sneaks up and tugs at the end of my bootlace, then darts away when I look down. I laugh out loud and startle all manner of creatures back into the safety of the underbrush. Noisy human.

Little birds flit about, landing nearby for a moment, singing a bit of their song, then flying away. This is a beautiful spot. Quiet. Peaceful. I sit enjoying it awhile longer, taking note of blackberry vines heavy with unripe fruit. The thimbleberries are laden with young fruit, too. Among the native shrubs, a twisted old apple tree also has young fruits on it.

I sigh contentedly to myself. I’m not inclined to celebrate the dumpster fire that is modern day American “governance”, but I’ve got this beautiful day, and I am fortunate to enjoy this moment before returning home to a life rich in joy and love. That’s totally worth celebrating.

Wherever you are is a great place to begin, again.
Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories 2024 Election, Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, inspiration, joy, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Practices, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being, Words

Independence Day

July 3, 2026 //
0

I breathe in the sweetly scented summer air on this trail between a vast meadow of clover and the broad silent river on the other side of a strip of trees and brambles.  Beautiful morning. Sunny and cool, for now, some heat in the forecast later.

No AI here, only a human being and a camera phone.

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

I woke this morning feeling recovered from whatever sickness laid me flat yesterday afternoon. It was a delight to water the lawn at daybreak and to watch the sunrise as I drove to the trailhead.

Sunrise by the river.

I sit on a rock near the river, enjoying the mild summer morning. It’s beautiful. I don’t need more than this right now. I listen to birds singing and chirping. I take a couple pictures, wishing very much that the pictures could also capture the scents. Wildflowers and clover. Nice.

… I let my mind wander contentedly, feeling free…

Weeds or wildflowers? It depends on your point of view.

When I say I don’t use AI to write my blog, I’m very serious. Another kind of freedom worth celebrating. No AI editing the pictures. No AI generated images. No AI authorship or editing. No choices to turn over my thinking to an algorithm or LLM. No AI research. My spelling mistakes and weird grammar and syntax are my own. My limited knowledge is my own. My thoughts are my own. My lived experience is real and human and messy. I’m okay with all of that. I don’t think my position on AI is at all unique; I get more comments and friendly feedback about my AI disclaimer than any topic I actually write about. I feel amused – and vindicated.

I keep to the path I’m on; there’s real freedom and independence in saying “no” to the AI slop and unnecessary “tools” being shoved into every app whether it’s helpful, or desirable, or not (“not” seems generally to be the case). I don’t need it. I don’t use it.

… AI is not capable of understanding the human experience…

A small bird sings to me for a few minutes.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. The scents of summer wildflowers fill the air. It’s a lovely morning. I feel free. That’s worth celebrating.

Free your mind. Live your life. Go outside.

I think about the day ahead. I’ll fly my drone. Fold some laundry. Maybe paint. Read awhile. The day is mine to live as I choose. I hope I choose wisely.

Happy Independence Day. Live free.

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories 2024 Election, Allegories, art and the artist, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being, thoughts on AI, War and News of War, Words

Here We All Are

June 28, 2026 //
0

It is a gray rainy summer morning in the Pacific Northwest. Nothing particularly unusual about that. The temperature this morning is a mild 14C/58F. Comfortable. A muscle up the back of my right thigh is aching painfully. I mostly ignore it, but approach a favorite weekend trail from a different trailhead, with fewer hills. The more level ground is an easier walk.

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

What’s your moment like? I wonder briefly how it is we each have our own experience, living our individual “now” moment, like pages in a book; so similar at a glance, such differences in the details, and still so common and familiar we are able to understand each other.

I walk with my thoughts, feeling a delicate spatter of occasional raindrops on my face. Not enough to call it “raining”. The marshy places are barely damp now, replaced mostly with meadow until the heavy autumn rains return. The tall grass is already brown. Most of the wildflowers are fading, dropping seeds for next year’s Spring bloom. The trees in the distance are many hues and shades of green, looking fresh and lush from where I stand.

Doesn’t matter where you are, you’ve got to start somewhere, and that somewhere is where you are.

There’s a delicious spicy herb-y floral scent that I specifically associate with Oregon. I don’t know what it is. I love the scent of Oregon. Meadow, marsh, forest, dunes, desert, savannah…it hardly matters to me. I love the places I have seen and been and traveled through. Oregon is special to me, though I have trouble being clear as to precisely why. Of all the places I have lived or visited, Oregon is one of only two that draw me back again and again (the other is “the Eastern Shore” region of Maryland, with her marshy flatlands and peaceful coves). It’s not that I don’t like (and even love) many other places, it’s more that these “two” (Oregon is pretty vast to be a single place) call to my heart to come on home.

I get to my halfway point feeling a soft gratitude just to be alive, existing, and able to experience the simple joy of a summer morning. Uncomplicated. Unbothered. From my perch on a fence rail, I watch a multitude of little birds flit about. They have their own way of enjoying the morning. I breathe, exhale, and relax. This feels like enough. Right here. Now.

…I am, of course, overlooking all the corruption, drama, and harmful bullshit going on in the US, and around the world. I’m ignoring, for the moment, all the violence and genocide. Drone warfare. The bombings of civilian targets. The fuckwittery of our gerontocracy. The obscene greed of billionaires. The commonness of hate speech and incivility. It’s much. We all need to take steps to preserve our individual peace, and our resilience; the future of humanity may depend on our persistence and endurance. This isn’t a sprint. I sigh quietly and let all that go, again, for awhile…

I spent a couple hours in the studio this weekend. I may go back for more. Painting fulfills something for me that nothing else does. It is soul-nurturing, healing work.

“Summer Sunrise, McMinnville June 2026”

I gaze across the meadow observing the changing light and thinking about palette choices, shade, tint, and hue. How best to capture a misty rain drenching a summer meadow, I wonder? I sit watching until the rain reaches me, then laugh with delight when it finally does, as if surprised. It passes by quickly, leaving me a bit damp, glasses spattered.

I grin at my happy predicament. I don’t mind the rain. I get to my feet and stretch. The trail through the meadow beckons me, and it’s time to begin again (already?).  This, here, now, is as good a moment as any to take a next step, to choose, to walk on, and to begin… but really, anywhere is, it’s simply necessary to begin. To walk on. The clock is ticking.

What are you going to do about it?
Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories 2024 Election, Allegories, art and the artist, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being, War and News of War, Words

Thoughts On a Day

May 25, 2026 //
0

I’m often kind of blue on Memorial Day, and given that I’m a war veteran who has felt the loss of many who served with me, over the years, I guess that’s not a surprise. What does surprise me is that this year, I’m not feeling that at all. I slept in and after a sound and restful sleep, woke gently to a new day filled with promise and opportunity. And here I am.

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

I’m grateful for the holiday and the long weekend.

Memorial Day, 2026

Yesterday was odd. It began well enough, but after my walk the morning unraveled into frustrations built one upon another like a Jenga tower of aggravation waiting to tip over into rage or some ridiculously disproportionate tantrum. That didn’t happen, though, in part due to loving support from my Traveling Partner who recognized the role he inadvertently played in it, himself. His sweet concern and tender regret helped to resolve my agita before things really went sideways. He comforted me. Encouraged me to take care of myself, and was just generally the sweet caring partner I so adore. He makes minor emotional miracles (that are a major improvement) – and he makes cool fidget toys for me, too. (The newest of which I played with for hours quite happily.) 😁

After a hot shower, and a nap, I was fine. The day proceeded beautifully. My beloved picked up a project he could do in the living room and we hung out together watching a movie. My recollection of the day from the vantage point of this morning is all about the love and joy. It’s a nice change from a time when a morning like yesterday would have lead to days of struggling with my demons and trying – then failing – to manage my emotions, for many painful days (or finally choosing out of despair to drug myself into a stupor to stop the cycle of unmanageable heartbreak and fury). Years of tears are behind me. That’s okay. That too is a very human experience.

… It’s been a journey measured in years and practices…

The path behind me is what it is; in the past. The path ahead is mostly an unknown, and it will develop from the path I walk now. My choices and practices matter. (So do yours. However bad it has been, you can begin again right now and choose differently.)

I sigh quietly to myself on the edge of this literal path I’m sitting next to. Nice morning for a walk. My bones say it will rain…”soon”. The weather forecast agrees. Will it, though? Maybe. That’s the future. It changes constantly until it becomes the present, a real part of our lived experience. Until then it isn’t a given whether or not it may rain, or whether I’ll lose another friend to mortal frailty, or whether the local pharmacy will have my medication in stock, or whether a table will be available at a particular restaurant. It’s not worth getting spun up over some possible disappointment. Be present. Accept change and uncertainty, and practice non-attachment. These are extraordinarily secure stepping stones on a path through life that is fraught with obstacles and detours. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I’m not telling you what to do, I’m just sharing what has worked for me.

I sit with my thoughts awhile. My fingernails sparkle in the morning sun. I consider the day ahead. Vacuuming. Laundry. I think about dinner, later, and wonder whether tacos or chicken with corn on the cob sound better? My mind wanders contentedly through the ordinary. I’m okay with that. It’s Memorial Day – and I’m not crying. Instead, I feel a quiet respect and gratitude, and honor the fallen in my recollections. This year that’s enough – and I’m grateful for that, too.

I get to my feet and brush bits of grass from my jeans before I set off on the path back to the car. It’s a beautiful morning to begin again.

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories 2024 Election, Allegories, anger, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, grief, 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, War and News of War, women, Words

Here We Are

May 22, 2026 //
0

It’s a cool Spring morning. Looks like a hot afternoon ahead. I feel like I have things to do today, or this weekend, but this moment here, now, is mine. Sunlight illuminates the tops of the tall oaks along the path leading through and around the vineyard. There is an assortment of trucks and construction vehicles along a portion of the trail. I frown as I pass them. I hope the trees aren’t being cut down.

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

It is an ordinary enough day. A Friday.

…The government is still ridiculously corrupt. It’s shameful; a clown car driven by a demented narcissist straight into a dumpster fire just about describes it. It’s a shame Trump just had to stuff our nation’s future right into that dumpster before setting it ablaze. What a disappointing fuckwit. Clear proof that money and education don’t make someone a good person.

… The planet continues to warm. Weather patterns continue to get weird. The sea continues to rise. Are you surprised that no one wants to deal with it until they are directly affected?

…War and genocides continue around the globe. I’m getting the impression that we’re far less civilized than we pretend.

I sigh to myself and try to let the weight of it all just fall away. Sitting here, one woman alone on the side of a well maintained trail in a small town, there’s damn little I can personally do about foreign wars, climate change, or grifting idiots in positions of power. I can, however, enjoy this Spring morning and this sunshine. I can watch the small dark birds gathering bits of dry grass and flitting off with it. I can watch the farmworkers arriving to start their work in the vineyard.

I’ve got a long weekend ahead. I have the recollection that my Traveling Partner had thoughts on something to do, but now that I fish around in the vast ocean of my memories trying to recall… I think it was a request to vacuum. 😆 Brunch with the Chaotic Comic Sunday, too. I remind myself to make time for the garden, and a trip to the store. So completely ordinary. Maybe a nice dinner? Stir fry? Burgers? I shrug to myself and my thoughts move on. I’ve got a nasty headache and I’m disillusioned by “the state of things” here and abroad. Is it just the headache? Probably not; greed turns people into terrible corrupt fuckwits, and it’s legitimately disappointing and unpleasant to acknowledge.

I sigh to myself, and let that go too. I breathe, exhale, and relax, and come back to here, now. I watch the trees fill with light as the sun rises. It’s time to begin again.

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories 2024 Election, Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, Healthy Living, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, War and News of War, women, Words
« Older Entries