Archives for category: 2024 Election
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Places I’ve Been

November 4, 2024 //
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Memory is a funny thing. Mine can be a little hit or miss (probably a consequence of head trauma and brain damage). Visceral detailed memories of places, events, and people are often triggered by qualities of light, or some scent on a breeze, or some little thing that seems entirely unrelated, until the memory unfolds to the point at which the dots are connected. Sometimes troubling, often delightful, the memory pours forth and I have a new opportunity to remember and reflect.

… I take a lot of notes, keep a careful calendar, and for many years (decades) kept an exceedingly detailed journal, just to cope with my shitty memory…

Yesterday, as I sat with a coffee at a local cafe, the recollection of a sidewalk cafe on a sunny morning in Paris surfaced. I sat enjoying the recollection for a pleasant while.

A couple days ago, as I walked through the small local library, the smell of books mingled with the librarian’s fragrance, and the late morning light filling the room called to mind some very different long ago place – a visit to the Dom Cathedral in Augsburg, Germany, which I visited several times as a young soldier.

These aren’t particularly rare memories. Hell, I doubt they are even unique to my own experience, considering how popular these places and experiences are. I just happen to have them (also). Other days, other recollections. I sometimes find myself thinking I should write them down,  otherwise, when I go, they go with me…

… But I’m not certain they even “matter”, really, they’re simply a small part of who I am…

I sit quietly with my coffee letting the recollections flow by. Recent memories like sharing dinner last night with my Traveling Partner and the Anxious Adventurer. Chili – it was good. More distant memories, too, like elaborate Thanksgiving dinners at Grandmother and Grandfather’s house, which were a really big deal with the cousins from Texas and the Dakotas coming for the holiday. The Christmas Market in Augsburg. Softcrab sandwiches at the harbor in Annapolis. Long walks in the mountain foothills near Grants Pass, Oregon. Orienteering with my unit at Ft AP Hill in the summertime. Hunting with my Dad on cold autumn mornings. The war. My first paycheck.The first time my now-Traveling-Partner ever touched me. That afternoon he asked me if I wanted to get married.

…So many memories make up a lifetime…

I sip my coffee grateful for my memories. I put on my boots and grab my cane to go make another before the work day begins.

… Isn’t it time to begin again?

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Categories 2024 Election, Allegories, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, inspiration, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Sleepless Nights, The Art of Being, War and News of War

I Screwed Up

November 1, 2024 //
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I’m no “expert” – not on mindfulness, nor CBT, nor emotional intelligence… I’m just a human being making my own way, fortunately with some help, and willing to talk about it pretty openly. (Definitely don’t look to me for the last word in whatever it is you most yearn to discover!) I’m not the expert you may be seeking. Limited education. No relevant credentials. Just a person, and not even a person of note. lol My opinions and experience are only that; mine. Subjective.  Lived in context. I share them with these caveats. (And thanks for reading.)

I was reflecting on something to do with the last few months of my Dear Friend’s life, recently (grief being a peculiar process that takes an unknown very individual amount of time, apparently). It occured to me that she had made it super clear she knew the end was coming, and was ready to face it, and explicitly opened the door to having conversations about that – clearly wanting to – and I missed that cue, choosing instead to offer reassurance, any time it came up. I failed her. She wanted to talk. She wanted to talk to me, and I did not give her that opportunity, when I so easily could have done so. I could have said something like “do you want to talk more about that, or are you making an observation?” I could have said “please tell me more”, or “help me understand why you feel this way right now?” I didn’t do any of those things because I wasn’t ready to face her mortality with her. How cruel and and how foolish. I could have done better as a friend. Why do I mention it, now? Only because you could perhaps do better, when that opportunity is given to you, when some friend or loved one says they feel the end is near, or that they “may not recover from this” – whatever “this” is – giving you the chance to listen and be there for them. You could choose something deeper and more intimate and… stronger… than reassurance. You could encourage them to talk, and allow them to share, and be there to listen – because you care.

Well, shit. This is one of those “no second chances” things, eh? I don’t even consider myself someone who has a problem facing death; I know we are mortal creatures. What I clearly do have a problem with is the pain of being uncomfortable with a loved one’s pain or sorrow or fear or anger or discomfort (no kidding). It’s a major character flaw. I should do something about it. I sit awhile with that thought…

Some time later my thinking takes me back around to discussions my Traveling Partner tries to have with me about his experience of injury, recovery, and disability. I can do better than I have. I think about it awhile longer, grateful to “have another chance”. I think about discussions of illness and mortality I have similarly tried to have with him, and his persistent attempts to reassure me and move on. I get it. Everyone wants to be heard, and hard conversations remain hard. Something to consider and to work on.

A steady rain falls this morning. I’d hoped for a break in the rain, but it doesn’t seem likely. Day of the Dead; the weather seems fitting, as I sit here missing those who’ve already gone. I breathe, listening to the rain tapping rhythmically on the car, and my tinnitus ringing and buzzing in my ears. It’s a quiet moment well-suited to reflection. It’s a Friday, too. The weekend ahead is the final stressful couple of days before the presidential election. The year is winding down, and daylight savings time ends Sunday. Shit. That’s all such a lot to take in… I’d rather be sipping coffee while I paint than dealing with all that. It will happen whether I’m paying any attention to it or not.

I remind myself to plan the Thanksgiving meal, grateful that it tends toward a handful of classic holiday favorites. It’s mostly a matter of coordinating tasks, housekeeping, shopping, and cooking. I sigh feeling relieved in spite of anticipating the work involved. As holidays go, it’s pretty routine, and for us, manageably small.

The rain intensifies, becoming a racket of pounding rain for a time. My alarm goes off, reminding me to take my morning medication. One more thing to attend to. Sometimes there seem to be so many…

… I breathe, exhale, and relax, letting my thoughts carry me on to the next moment. Soon it will be time to begin again, and the clock is ticking on this mortal life. This path won’t walk itself.

… The rain stops. I have another chance to walk…

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Categories 2024 Election, Allegories, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, grief, loneliness, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being, women

Choice, Freedom, Agency

October 29, 2024 //
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I’m sipping a hot cup of black coffee this morning, the first hot one this year, I think. It was a choice based on preference and chilly weather. It’s a foggy morning and the autumn chill made the thought of iced coffee less appealing. I’m grateful to have the choice, the freedom to make that choice, and the agency with which to act upon my preference by doing so.

A whole lot of years ago, (about 47 or so years ago) I made a choice based on preference that I stood firm on with few regrets, no hesitation, and only rare moments of poignant wonder about what a different choice might be like; I chose to be childless. I chose not to parent. I chose to avoid motherhood. I made this choice at a pretty young age, before ever having a moment of therapy, and before having to face the necessity of terminating a pregnancy. I made this choice based on my preferences, my understanding of myself, and my perspective on life, and the world. It was less that I knew what I wanted, and more that I knew what I didn’t want. I did not want to become little more than a vessel for other life, and it sure seemed to me at that time that such was the lot in life of most women with children. So I chose. I was free to do so. I had the agency to enact and stand firm on the choice I made, though I had to fight for it time and again.

…It was a smart choice, for me, all things considered, and I remain glad that it is the choice I made for myself…

How you vote in this election may determine whether your daughters and future generations of women are free to choose to be childless, if that is the choice they wish to make for themselves. It’s an important election, and there really are people in the world who would like to force women to breed for some nebulous greater good, or as punishment for their fundamental humanity, regardless of the risk, regardless of whether the woman is suited to motherhood… regardless of her choice. Pretty terrifyingly grotesque, frankly. I don’t understand such people. That’s the stuff horror movies are made of.

Anyway. Vote. Your freedom of choice and even your personhood and agency may depend on the outcome. Yours, and a lot of other people’s besides.

I’m sipping this excellent cup of coffee daydreaming about love. I enjoyed a lovely evening with my Traveling Partner yesterday, after a difficult (but short) workday fighting off a nasty headache. It’s not so bad today, and I’m grateful. I face the day ahead relaxed and at ease. I slept decently well and I feel rested. I want to paint, but it’s not time for that and I laugh at my foolishly inopportune inspiration. Maybe later? I’ve committed to taking some photographs for my partner later, but perhaps after that?

I sit quietly on this rock at my halfway point on my morning walk. Shorter walk today, but no less appreciated. I can see the traffic going by on the highway, a stream of lights through the fog. I finish my coffee and my thoughts. I look over my writing before I head back up the trail to the car, and on to the office. My heart is filled with love and I am enjoying this strangely tender, grateful moment. I’m so glad I’ve gotten to live this life I chose. It’s a worthy journey. There’s more ahead, and further to travel on this mortal path.

It’s time to begin again…

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Categories 2024 Election, Allegories, art and the artist, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, The Art of Being, women

Welcome to My House

October 28, 2024 //
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Becoming aware that a particular old fear or point of insecurity no longer has any power over me is a peculiar moment, simultaneously “powerful” and somehow… relaxing? Like a weight lifted from the baggage I’m dragging through life. It’s a profoundly positive feeling, without being specifically joyful or happy. An achievement unlocked. A new “special move” in life’s game obtained. I sit with the awareness awhile, feeling something, and lacking the words.

I sip my coffee contemplating life and love, feeling this strange new feeling of security and comfortable self-reliance. We’re all in this together. We’re each having our own experience. We are mortal creatures, sometimes sharing the journey, sometimes not. We’re all travelers on this journey that is itself the destination – and there is no map. It’s helpful to avoid becoming attached to a particular outcome.

No one really has any fucking idea what they’re doing, and chances are, the more an individual clings to how right they are, the more potential there is that they’ve overlooked something and are very wrong indeed (about something). Be humble about the potential limits of your knowledge. I mean, that just seems smart. It’s hard to know what we don’t know.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. The threat that a relationship may be ended over some moment of discontent or drama has no power over me these days. Why should it? I’m not here by force, I’m here by choice. If a partner, friend, or associate feels unsafe or that their mental health is at risk, why should they stay? Walk on, I say. Take care of yourself. I’ll be okay. I feel pretty safe with myself, even in my loneliest moments, and I don’t think anyone should feel obligated to continue in a relationship that lacks value – or worse, is painful or damaging. We’ve all got options.

There’s no need to force ourselves to stay where we feel unwanted, ever. Change can be scary and difficult, but damn, it’s never helpful to cling to something that may be tearing you down. There’s no point using the end of a relationship as any sort of threat or leverage with me, though. I’ll help you pack. It’s not personal; if you don’t want to be here, don’t want to share this journey with me, go. Your choice. I certainly won’t try to force you to stay.

… Funny thing, I feel as if the work of processing grief and loss “got me here”; we are mortal creatures, and these cherished relationships between each other are so fleeting. It doesn’t make sense to waste precious mortal hours in a terrible relationship. Walk on. Begin again. Respect yourself and show yourself some consideration.

My dreams last night were full of fire and rage and heartbreak. Inescapable anguish chased me down corridors without doors. I woke angry, seething, ahead of my alarm, and got up to start the day drenched in sweat and feeling as if I had literally been running. My head ached with the effort, and it aches still. My arthritis pain is a serious annoyance. It’s a rainy chilly day, no surprise that I’m in more pain than usual. My feet crunched the leaves and gravel along the trail to my halfway point and back; short walk today. Early meetings. I feel purposeful and resolute. I’m okay right now, and my anger receded into the background as I walked.

By the time I got back to the car, I felt mostly pretty good. Demons slain. Attitude adjusted. Heart filled with gratitude. It’s a good life, generally. I’m grateful for my Traveling Partner and hoping he has a good day.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I’m here because I want to be. I’ve got options. When shit vexes me, I can walk it off, and begin again.

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Categories 2024 Election, Allegories, anger, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, grief, health, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, The Art of Being

Joy Where I Find It

October 27, 2024 //
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I’m sitting at the trailhead listening to the rain drumming on the moon roof of the car. I can see clear skies here and there in spite of the rain and the predawn darkness, so I’m expecting this to be a passing shower and hope to wait it out before I hit the trail. I enjoy the sound of it, and for the moment I can imagine life without my tinnitus.

The drive this morning was delightful. There was no traffic. I don’t mean to say there were very few cars on the road, which is generally quite pleasant. It was better than that. I had the highway entirely to myself, aside from one car going in the opposite direction. The soaking rain storms in the night left the highway glistening. Autumn leaves clung damply where they fell. A sliver of moon peeked from between pearly puffs of clouds scattered across the night sky. It was quite wonderful. Still is, as I sit here waiting for a break in the rain and enough light to safely walk the trail. Even now, there’s very little traffic passing by on the nearby highway, and no one else here in the parking lot of the nature park. Lovely quiet solitary moment, and I sit within it, joyful and at ease.

… For a few joyful moments my background stress recedes to nothing and I am truly content, joyful, and calm…

I haven’t been sleeping well. Last night was unexceptional in that regard. It’s a combination of work stress (very busy time), life stress (my Traveling Partner is going through a lot and it requires much from me to support everything he needs), and election stress. I admit it, I’m really struggling with that last one. I so earnestly want to believe that we’re smart enough and have learned enough, not to put a treasonous, dishonest, mentally impaired, lying, misogynist, rapist, fraudster back into the oval office, and that surely – if nothing else – Americans don’t hate women enough to put us through that? But I honestly don’t know. Is misogyny still so prevalent that we’ll use any excuse to avoid electing a highly competent woman – even if it means putting the nation in the hands of an old man so clearly in the throes of serious mental decline? Scary. So very very scary. It’s actually wrecking my sleep, I am that worried about it.

I sigh. I’m so grateful for this quiet moment of real joy dropped unexpectedly into this stressful time. I really need all the joy I can find right now. The smallest moment of delight is worthy of my attention.

I sit with my thoughts. I am thinking about love, and how much it matters to me. I am thinking about my Traveling Partner, frustrated by the slow progress of his recovery, and wondering how I can be more encouraging, a better partner, and what other things I could do to be helpful. Recovering from an injury and surgery is hard, and demands a lot. I sometimes worry I’m failing to do my part to foster a hope-filled and uplifting environment in which recovery feels inevitable. I’d definitely like him to have that feeling. Caregiving is complicated and I still have so much to learn.

… I find so much joy in this relationship. I’m glad we’re “sharing the journey”…

The rain stops, then starts. It’s still quite early. I smile to myself. I’m okay right now. This is a delightful moment. I accept it as it is, and savor the experience. It’s enough, at least for now. Later, I’ll walk the trail, and run some errands on my way home… And begin again.

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Categories 2024 Election, Allegories, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, Love, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, The Art of Being
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