Archives for category: 2024 Election

So, hey, Memorial Day, yeah? Maybe you’ll barbecue with family, or perhaps you’ve been spending the weekend camping or traveling? Maybe, like me, just a long weekend spent more or less the usual way, at home? It is Memorial Day, though. Don’t forget to make time to reflect on the many lives lost to war – civilian lives, too. Lives lost to conflict, to genocide, to the ridiculous unwillingness of some in power to refrain from slaughtering innocents needlessly. The consequences of such things linger for generations. We could do better.

A Spring morning well-suited to reflection.

I started down the trail this morning, alone. The parking lot at the trailhead was empty, though it was much later than my usual time. Now, though, it’s almost crowded (meaning to say I’ve seen more than one other person walk past). I walked with my thoughts, mostly to do with fallen comrades of wars (cold and otherwise) that are in the distant seeming past. Memories. It’s been a decent year, in a sense; no new outreach alerting me that yet another old friend has taken their own life, unable to live with their memories, or the world as it is. It’s been awhile since I received such news.

I sit at my halfway point, reflecting on war – the pointless wastefulness and loss of life, the violence, the hate, and the lasting damage done. There are no “winners” in warfare. There are only the wealthy and the powerful (getting wealthier and more powerful), and the dead.

… Memorial Day sales are not the point of Memorial Day…

I sit watching clouds drift across the sky. I’m grateful that I have survived the wars I was sent to fight. I find room in my heart to honor the dead on both sides of those conflicts. There were no “good guys”, only fighting and chaos and killing and destruction. Ugly shit. Don’t go to war – the price is too high.

I sigh to myself, remembering. I’m okay though. Some years it’s been hard to face my memories and the losses left me feeling wounded and struggling with tears. Today not so much. What are one woman’s recollections of warfare in the face of ongoing actual genocides around the world? How do we even allow that to continue? Tough talk by idiot leaders is just performative puffery intended to convey strength by weak fools with too much power and fueled by greed (and, generally, also racism). Why do we permit it? It’s pretty ugly, and very wasteful. I have a pretty clear understanding of why leaders and governments participate in warfare – there’s quite a lot of money to be made, and wow, so much useful material for manipulating a population develops out of conflict. Do I sound cynical? I’ve been to war. I’ve stared into the eyes of the god of war. I’ve been “part of the machine”.

… I still consider myself a patriot, and in spite of trauma and the personal price I paid, I don’t regret serving my country, only that we continue to fight wars…

never forget

I think about “honor” and “valor” and “heroism” and ethical service to a cause, and wonder, again, why so many of us have to stare death in the face personally to understand that there is no honor in war… Only killing and death and destruction. The price paid in lives lost is too high.

My Traveling Partner pings me a good morning greeting. There is hope in the world because love exists. I smile to myself, and get ready to begin again.

I woke up slowly this morning, slipping gradually from strange distressing dreams of poverty, privation, and desperate futile “choices”. My dreams were anxious and restless. I dreamt of drinking terrible coffee on a sweltering morning, sitting on the edge of broken second-hand patio furniture – no AC, windows thrown wide to non-existent breezes through the night, hoping for a moment of cooler temperatures. I dreamt fretfully of having to choose between paying the electric bill and buying food, and of having to choose between filling a prescription or putting gas in an unreliable car. Would it even start next time I needed it? I dreamt of times gone by, and times I’ve never lived but recognize to be within the realm of possibility in a human lifetime. I dreamt of being in my final years, without means, without partnership, alone and deeply concerned about seeing another sunrise. I squinted at the rising sun in my dreams, anxious, then woke slowly to the lights coming on in my room, here, now, okay. Fucking hell. I’m not sure I’d call my dreams “nightmares” – there was no terror, really, only sorrow, and despair, and trying to so hard to make something of nothing last long enough to be… enough. My dreams were drenched in the anxiety of effort and insufficiency – and even in my dreams I found myself trying to find the best of it, to find the small joys in that dismal existence, sitting quietly with my coffee watching the sun rise. It wasn’t enough – but I felt some tiny fragment of hope and clung to it desperately.

…Fucking hell. I definitely do not need more nights like that

Still, I sip my (relatively shitty) cup of coffee this morning, thinking about luck, circumstances, good fortune, and how very hard a person can work at life, at trying to provide for their family, at trying to live well within limited means – and how easy it is to fail at all of that, anyway. People get mired in despair because life can be hard. Very hard. Sometimes it not only seems like there is “no way out” – it may even be true in some limited sense. Rough. Sometimes doing better or “finding our way” requires really difficult decision-making, or even what feels like a complete “do-over”. Scary. None of that is easy. You know what is easy? Being a jerk to people when you do not know, or can not understand, what they are going through. Super easy to be a raging asshole, lacking in compassion and consideration. (For a choice bad example, we need only look to Congress trying to pass a budget.) Maybe don’t do that, though, right? Just don’t be a jerk to people.

Simple joys are worth savoring and it doesn’t take much effort to be kind.

It’s a good morning to reflect with gratitude on my good fortune, and where I am in life right now. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I embrace the quiet somewhat rainy looking morning with a measure of joy; I am not in that place where my dreams placed me. I’m not wealthy (not even “affluent”). I have enough to meet my basic needs. My Traveling Partner and I are comfortable together, managing life together. We provide for each other; it’s likely neither of us would be in the same place in life without each other. I smile thinking of the cute 3D printed earrings I am wearing this morning – he made them for me. That he made them with me in mind matters so much more than their intrinsic value. They’re plastic – super cute and I love them. Diamonds could not ever please me on the same level at all – their cold sparkle would only remind me of what I don’t have and can’t (or have not) achieved. They would exist to say something to someone else, and I would wear them only to “make a statement” – and one which I don’t personally feel moved to make. I’m not competing with the world. I’m walking my own path. I don’t aspire to diamond jewelry – only to loving and being loved, living well (within our limited means), and finding joy in a life that is enough. But that’s me. You do you, I guess. 😀

Who are you? What do you really want out of life? Where does your path lead? You will become what you practice – what are you practicing?

My mind wanders. I reflect awhile on how best to avoid being a jerk to people (even when I’m tired, or in pain, or aggravated by something). So many people suffering, doing what they can with too little, just trying to get by… I think awhile on being kind, being considerate, demonstrating concern and compassion, and how best to be the woman I most want to be. “Being and becoming” seems to be a long, sometimes rather slow journey from the greed and demanding inconsiderate foolishness of childhood to … something else. Something better, ideally, something practiced and thoughtful, and patient, and wise, and… fuck I’ve got work to do on this “being my best self” stuff! So many negative examples out there in the world, too – I know who I don’t want to be. I know how I don’t want to behave. I guess it is a starting point, eh?

The clock is ticking, but there’s time to begin again. Do better. You have choices.

I left myself a note a short time ago. I had it on my mind, and didn’t want to forget. I had intended to write a blog post on the topic, at some point.

Write about censorship, libraries, intellectual and cognitive liberty, freedom to pursue knowledge, the nature of truth and how “obscenity” is used to control information.

Simple enough. Scary shit, too. I’m not sure what else there really is to say, though. Buy real books. Read “banned” books. (Who gets to tell you what you can or can not read, seriously?) Practice critical thinking – and use that powerful brain you’ve got there. Make a point of buying those real books from independent book sellers, (ideally from some funky-cool local brick and mortar bookstore) while they still exist. Help to keep the printed word alive. See an article about books being removed from shelves, libraries, curricula, for some buzzword-targeted non-reason? (Looking your way “DEI” “critical race theory” and “woke ideology”…) Maybe consider making a point of seeing what the fuss is about for yourself by actually reading some of those challenged books? It’s a thought. Frankly, aren’t you just a little concerned about your access to knowledge being restricted based on someone else’s agenda? (I sure am.)

However many books, however much experience; there is more to learn.

Don’t allow yourself to be told what you can and can not know, or what is “safe” for you – as an adult – to dare to read. Preserve your freedoms and your rights by insisting on them – and making use of them. Visit your local library and make a point of requesting books that you want to read, if you don’t find them there. Encourage your libraries to stock books that are challenged elsewhere. Why the hell not? Your mind is your own – maybe work to keep it that way? Count on librarians to be superheroes in times like these.

I could easily make a case for reading being an essential tool (and skill) for independent thought, critical reasoning skills, and basic success in life. Other’s have already made that argument more skillfully than I could, and based on real expertise. We may not be able to learn everything we need to know from reading, but reading sharpens our ability to process information, and allows us the exposure to knowledge to be able to learn more faster, over time. Reading creates disciplined focus and depth of knowledge. Reading exposes us to other minds, other philosophies and world views, and other voices on the human experience. Don’t let anyone take these things away from you!

I sip my coffee as I write; you’re here reading, now. Take it another step. Google “banned books” – there are lists out there. Google “controversial books in the 21st century” or something as click-bait-y as “the books they don’t want you to read” – there is a world of books and knowledge out there, and truly some of what is available is remarkable and worthwhile. (Some isn’t; another opportunity to exercise those rational faculties, eh?) Books can be costly – find a used book store, or visit the book section of the local thrift store. Do you want to know “what’s really going on” with Ukraine or Palestine? There are so many books on those topics. So many phenomenal authors with notable credibility and depth of knowledge. Do you want to have a better understanding of what is going on with the technologies that seem to be taking over the world? There are books on those topics too. Don’t rely on TikToks and sound bites from talking heads on line. Read actual books. Go deeper.

Your access to knowledge is actually under threat. Don’t give in. Resist. Read books.

A few more finished… a couple new books added to the stack 🙂

The woman in my reflection stares pensively outward at some thought that isn’t a visible detail. My coffee sits nearby, untouched, sweating condensation into a pool on the desk. I should do something about that, I think, when I notice. The news annoys me. How can people – especially people of means and good fortune – be so incredibly petty, cruel, inconsiderate, and hateful? I don’t “get it”. I don’t think I actually understood that crap when it filled my own head. Untested assumptions, bullshit I was taught, terrible habits and so much ignorance… I definitely don’t understand it now.

…Feels like we’re all standing on quicksand somehow, these days, only very few people seem to be aware of it… or willing to find something firm to stand on…

I sigh to myself, and stand fast on my personal commitment to be the best version of myself that I can be, knowing what I know, seeing the world as I do, and having the skills I have. I’m certain to fail myself – and others – now and then. I’m very human, but I’m going to do my best to be a better human being today than I was yesterday, because it actually fucking matters. It matters every day, and in every interaction.

What about you? What are you doing to “make the world a better place”, you know, for everyone? You don’t need to tell me, just do the verbs. We become what we practice.

G’damn, I’m so tired this morning. Nightmares all night of strange terrifying things – hallways that never end. Doors that won’t unlock. Empty shelves and people dying of starvation, disease, and fire. Crawling terrified and silently beneath a shower of bullets in the darkness. I woke up choking – it’s just seasonal allergies that last bit, but it was an unpleasant way to wake up from a dream of chemical warfare and endless night. The commute to work was weird, too. The traffic going the opposite direction was quite dense and seemed to be moving faster than usual. There was no traffic at all going my way. I had the road to myself. It was so strange and surreal, for just a second I wondered if there had been some disaster or evacuation that I was unaware of, ahead of me. It was a chilling thought.

“The Nightmare City” 8″ x 10″ acrylic on canvas w/glow

I’m mired in the gloom lingering from a night spent in The Nightmare City. I sip my coffee and work on letting that go.

Daybreak comes, and the sky beyond the window is ordinary enough, some blue, some clouds. There’s pleasant Spring weather in the forecast, however ugly the news is, however tragic and ridiculous our government has become. It’s a strange juxtaposition of circumstances and for the moment I miss my Traveling Partner and the safety of home, more than I can stand. I’d rather be in my garden, planting and weeding, and paying no mind to the world that often disappoints me so very much. Too much death, too much greed, too much warfare, and g’damn – too many terrible petty hateful people. I’ll choose my own path, thanks, and go a different direction. Not because I have to, but because I can – and it seems a choice worth making.

What will you choose? Where does your path lead? It’s time to begin again…

Prices have been going up noticably since the election, and longer. They rarely go down. Some of this is due to human greed. Sometimes it’s about demand for a limited supply. Sometimes it’s about chaos and uncertainty, and regulatory bullshit. There’s always someone making money off of rising prices, though it may not be who we assume it is.

Recent price of blueberries. I am waiting impatiently for the blueberries in my garden.

I’m as frustrated and angry as anyone else over the weird petty and destructive policy making coming out of Washington DC these days. 61 (almost 62) and I’ve never seen the bullshit quite so deep. We have failed to elect a competent, skillful, effective government (unless your goal was to bring about the decline of Democracy altogether). It’s pretty horrific. I’m not sure what everyday folks were expecting – or how they were played so easily by power-seeking billionaires.

…Still…

Life goes on. Mostly pretty comfortably routine, moment to moment. I’m not personally reliant on the market fluctuations, beyond how such things affect the prices of groceries and gas (and they definitely do). I have been spending less with greater care, like a lot of people. It’s necessary. Instead of steak, we have chili. Instead of dining out, we cook at home (which is healthier anyway). Instead of going to a distant specialty market for some interesting ingredient I can’t get locally, I use a recipe that doesn’t require exotic ingredients at all. Choices are being made every day. I’m still choosing to live well, as much as I can, but I’m choosing to do so more affordably. It’s clearly necessary, and I may as well get really good at it. Soon enough things like oranges and bananas may become seasonal, coffee may become a luxury for the wealthy, and dining out impractical due to the lack of restaurants still in business.

… Sorry. I’m being a bit gloomy, eh? I’m in a ferocious amount of pain today and it may be coloring my thinking. I’m just saying, maybe it’s time to embrace simpler things and more affordable pleasures, disconnect from the Internet and social media, go outside, and exist in the real world among real people, and be less dependent on so many systems thoroughly outside my own control? I do remember a life before the Internet existed at all… A time when bad news didn’t travel as far or as fast, and it was more difficult to deceive or influence an entire population. I mean… I think I remember that world. Certainly there were fewer billionaires and they weren’t straight up buying the fucking government for their own benefit.

I stretch and sigh, and remind myself to be here, now, and let that shit go.

An excellent pot of chili, and an affordable hearty meal.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I think about the romaine lettuce and bok choy growing in the garden. I think about the radishes, carrots, and spinach sprouting in neat rows, and the onions and leeks standing tall in their corner of the garden. I feel myself relax. What matters most? How can I best care for hearth and home and family? It’s important to do more than exist in difficult times. It is helpful to act, to choose, and to create the life I want to live and the world I’d like to live in. Yes, there are surely assholes, nitwits, and idiots literally everywhere, but I don’t have to hang out with them, or allow my life to become about them. I’m free to choose differently.

It’s raining this morning. Not a hard rain, just occasional sprinkles, but the wind is blowing like those rain drops have places to be, right now. lol I don’t let it stop me from getting a walk in, this morning, in spite of the pain I’m in. This morning it’s both the headache and the arthritis. I deal with it, and walk on, grateful to walk another mile. I walk with my thoughts to my halfway point and stop for a little while, to write and reflect and watch dawn become a new day.

I think about ignorance and failure for some little while, and ponder all the many things I don’t (and possibly can’t) know. It’s a good time to buy books and read more. I often find inspiration and even real hope between the pages of a book. My own journey suggests that reading may be one of the most valuable skills a human primate can develop and use. I’m proud of the small library of excellent books I’ve accumulated over time. I’ve read nearly all of them, with some exceptions (some of the books my Traveling Partner owns are distinctly outside my areas of interest), but I cherish even those; they represent more to learn and know. They are well-chosen, well-written and purposeful.

I smile to myself. My book wishlist is huge. I definitely don’t have space for all of them, but… I’ll continue to add to the books I own. How to cook things. How to make things. How to survive things. How to garden and how to fight tyranny. How to think and how to paint. How to listen and how to love, and books about why all those things matter. I sigh contentedly thinking about books and gardening, and what it means (to me) to live a good life. The wind blows, tossing the trees from side to side. The dense gray clouds overhead don’t appear to move at all, they are a smooth homogeneous mass other than the strip of blue sky peaking through near the eastern horizon.

I finish my writing, and get to my feet. The clock is ticking, and it’s time to begin again.