Archives for category: 2024 Election

I woke this morning aware of yesterday’s news; former president Jimmy Carter had died at 100 years of age. Aside from that being a pretty long life for a human being, I was struck later in my own life, by how genuinely decent he was as a human being. Sure, sure, a lot has been said about what a terrible president he was, but I don’t know that that’s actually true, when I reflect on the specifics of the criticisms.

Jimmy Carter took a lot of heat for shit he could not have directly controlled in any way, and other things commonly called out critically were actually things that are easily viewed as actions taken from a positive of moral good, with positive outcomes. He sold the Panama Canal back to Panama for basically nothing. Why is that a bad thing? What business of ours was it to “own” that? (Oh, right – business. Not exactly known for standards of moral goodness or good character, eh?) He pardonned Vietnam draft dodgers – and why not? Fucking hell, are you kidding me with that shit? How is that even a fucking criticism? Vietnam was a fucking horror – we had no business being involved at all, nothing about that bullshit was good, or just, or righteous, or useful, and so many lives were wasted due to conscript service (in spite of having ostensibly done away with slavery) – which we ended shortly afterward in favor of an all-volunteer military. I can’t say that I’m at all critical of pardonning human beings who refused to go to war. I’ve been to war (as a volunteer in a powerful army), and it sucks. You know people kill and die in wars, right? So… yeah. As a young (conservative) thinker, I basically just spouted the “Jimmy Carter was a bad president” bullshit I heard from other people. I’m not sure I agree with it now – because I don’t think I know enough to say such a thing in an informed way. I do know one thing; he proved himself over time to be one of the most generally ethical, decent, and good human beings to have ever occupied the Oval Office.

…Americans don’t tend to elect good, decent, ethical people to political office. There’s something to be learned from that, and it’s probably important…

I shake it off as I dress for the day. I let it go, again, as I drive to the office. (My walk got derailed by a traffic accident on the highway between the turn to go to the office, and the trailhead; I chose to let that go too, avoiding a hassle.)

The office is comfortable, if a bit chilly. I’m finding myself having to “let that go” over and over again, though, as little things surface and annoy me for some moment. None of it “important” in this immediate moment for me as one human being here, now… all of it feeling somehow “important” in a larger picture of what makes life generally worth living, and how best to extend that experience to 100% of all of everyone (and why the ever-loving-fuck is that not obviously the goal for all of us??) I sigh, and remind myself that in spite of humanity’s everyday bullshit and nastiness – Jimmy Carter found reasons to be a good person. Like, all the fucking time, daily, in spite of the shit he took for not being the “good president” (bad human being) that people seemed inclined to want him to be – that’s something worth examining more closely, and learning from. At least, I think so myself.

People are dicks (often). People can be mean (damnably so). People do unforgiveable heinous things to each other (unrepentantly). People are violent (mercilessly). Sometimes it’s hard to remember that they are choosing – and I can choose differently, myself. That’s the important takeaway for me; I can walk my own path. I can be the woman I most want to be. I can choose to be a better person today than I was yesterday – every day. It’s not for me to decide your path – or anyone else’s – and I don’t have to cave to pressure and become something monstrous simply because someone else has, or because it is trending, or because it can be rationalized given enough time, money, and excuses. I can choose – in fact, I don’t really get an option on that; I have and will choose, again and again. What those choices are is very much an individual decision. I will become what I practice. That’s unavoidable. That I do have a choice simply gives me the freedom to be something better than my nature, perhaps.

I sigh and sip my coffee. I glance at a news article shared by a coworker about some jackass saying something pretty horrible in response to something else pretty ugly. Fuuuuck. I’m glad I’m not that guy. I’d choose differently. I smile to myself quietly, and just a little sadly; Jimmy Carter died, and the world is just a little less good because of his passing. I hope I’ve learned something from the example(s) that he set…

It’s time to begin again.

I’m sipping my coffee from the relative comfort of the office, having just put the finishing touches on the budget for this payday. I sigh quietly. The big gift-giving holiday of the year is behind me, now, and although the glow and warmth and merriment linger in my recollection and my sense of things, it’s definitely time to put my focus on paying the bills. We’ve got to pay for our fun, and this is a pretty solid, reliable truth of the human experience. Choose your adventure; pay the price of admission. There’s always a price to be paid. Big choices, small choices, moments of overreach, investments in a future we earnestly desire – doesn’t matter “what it’s all about”, sooner or later the bills come due. Running from it just makes the interest pile up (metaphorical or actual – things don’t get less expensive if we try to avoid paying the cost).

I sit with my osteo-arthritis pain; the bill I pay for choosing to live – and to do so without violence. That broken back that griefs me on the regular? I find it hard to feel real regret over that; I chose life, my actual own life, rather than face likely (imminent) death at the hands of my violent ex-husband. Was the price too high? Hardly. It was very much worth the price I’ve paid – and will continue to pay. Doesn’t make it less expensive.

Thankfully, most of the time the bills that come due in life are merely actual bills – the payments we have to make for some moment of fun we chose to have. This morning, I’m looking over my budget, grateful for the job that pays for the life my Traveling Partner and I are fortunate to share at this point in our lives. We’re not wealthy, and probably never will be (I don’t think it’s really a goal for either of us, honestly – we just want to enjoy “enough”), but the pantry is stocked, and we’ve got electricity, heat, running water, and highspeed internet. We’ve got books to read and a well-outfitted shop in which to make things (or fix things). We’ve got our little garden, and our life together. It’s enough. It is, in fact, the best life I’ve personally ever been so fortunate as to enjoy, and it’s definitely worth the price I pay when the bills come due. Isn’t that the important thing? That it feels worth it, I mean? That it feels like enough?

I sit with my gratitude in this quiet moment, hoping that this good time in our life together lasts a good long while. The future isn’t written and the world is full of turmoil. It’s hard to say where the future will take any of us, or how long one mortal life may last. I look over the budget one more time, and ask a question I know matters – although I don’t like to consider it; what can I do to protect my partner’s future from uncertainty if “the ultimate bill” comes due, and he’s left to go on without me? I don’t run from that thought these days – it’s too important to overlook it, and the bills always come due, eventually. That was a hard lesson to learn, but it’s an important one. So, I recommit myself to freedom from debt and building our savings; if either of us is left to deal with life alone, it’d be nice not to worry about debt. We have shared values and a shared understanding on this detail, and we plan together. It’s a partnership, for real. I smile to myself; it feels good to have a proper partner on life’s journey. More to be grateful for.

I sip my coffee. I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s a mortal life, sure, but so worth taking time to savor each precious moment. I look at the calendar – 4 more days to the near year. Already? Already. Time to begin again.

Alright, People, here we all are, Giftmas is over, and it’s time to get back to work, do the math, pay the bills, and pay attention to what’s going on around us. It’s time to begin again, isn’t it?

…What a lovely holiday it was…

A nice little stack of books.

Among my gifts this year, a book that may well be among the most important I’ll ever read (I’ve already started it). On Tyranny, by Timothy Snyder. I definitely recommend it.

Among the most attention-getting, thought-provoking videos I watched this holiday season was “Why Billionaires Should Be Illegal” by The Market Exit. I recommend both the video and the channel.

Isn’t it time to “level up”? Your survival may depend on it… Just saying, it wouldn’t hurt to continue to learn, and grow, and develop your intellect, and to think critically about the world. Standing around being outraged by the latest repeat of the news and firing off annoyed social media posts is sort of … ineffective, wouldn’t you say? It’s quite likely that people in power count on you being ineffective, ill-informed, and emotionally over-stimulated. My opinion. Perhaps I think too much…

I enjoyed some “me time” this week, focused on art, thinking about next steps for enhancing my selection of hues in my [relatively recently] chosen medium of pastels. I’d rather not compromise on quality or personal preference, and in my case that means I’ll need to break things down and plan ahead; colors are expensive. It’s worth it to put this amount of consideration into something I love so much (a lesson well-learned). I looked over my plan again this morning over my coffee, while some other portion of my brain thought about the book I’m reading, and the state of the world. Which colors must come first to say what I don’t have words for? It’s something I think about a lot.

No walk this morning. The wind was blowing ferociously, and the rain was falling hard – sideways. The streets were littered with downed tree branches, and in a couple spots there were road closures. As I drove toward the trailhead, in the direction of the office, I passed through Newberg; all the lights were out, and the signal lights at each intersection were dark. I passed through Sherwood, too; the lights were out, here and there, and the traffic signals at intersections were all flashing red in all directions. There was lightening at regular intervals in the sky to the north. Nope. No walk today. I went on to the office. It’s empty, and I have this space alone this morning. I arrive first; no coffee. There’s a sign at the reception desk – no receptionist today. They’re on holiday. It’ll likely be a very quiet day here. I pour a cold brew into a clean glass and get started. It’s definitely time to begin again.

…5 days until the clock runs out on 2024…

Damn, yesterday ended up being a tough one. It wasn’t that anything particular went wrong, or that there were challenges I couldn’t face. Hell, I wasn’t exactly in a bad mood, even. The day went askew in a strangely emotional way when the office background music began to play “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” in the holiday music mix. Multiple times. Multiple versions. Various singers. No question, an American holiday classic, and it reliably comes up this time of year, sooner or later. For me, it’s simply the saddest and most poignant holiday song ever. It’s a war era (WW II) song, and I reliably hear it sung in the voices of those who will never come home to another holiday. It’s mournful (for me). It’s one holiday song I can’t sing along to; I choke up before I even get the first line sung, and the tears come. I missed an entire holiday season deployed to a war zone myself. We sang this song together, and others, around the diesel stove on winter evenings, fighting off our blues, hoping that we would indeed one day go home for those holidays once more. Some of us don’t ever come home from war. Some of us who do make it home are forever changed by experiences no civilian loved ones can share or truly understand. War is horrible stuff, and the price paid along the way in lives and limbs and souls is far too high. I thought of Gaza. I thought of Ukraine. I thought of Syria. Global conflict. Genocide. The horrors of war. We should maybe stop doing that shit – and I’ll probably always cry when I hear this song. It has real meaning for me. Soldiers kill. Soldiers die. I’ve lost people along the way. My nightmares persist.

…It “broke” my yesterday…

By the time I got home from work, I was pretty much a mess (emotionally) and feeling really low. My Traveling Partner did his best to lift my mood, and together with the Anxious Adventurer we sat around watching “fail videos” and little bits of comic this-n-that, and taking things lightly. I gotta say, my beloved partner’s “emotional slight of hand” was masterful, last night. I had tried to say something about being set off by “I’ll Be Home For Christmas”, and the Anxious Adventurer tried (in a well-intended way) to commiserate by sharing how annoying he finds that one particularly notable Mariah Carey holiday song. Understand me, please, I was not “annoyed”, I was grieving and feeling heart-broken over experiences few civilians share, and that I can’t seem to forget. Before I could flare up, irritable and angry over misperceptions of being “dismissed” or not understood seriously, my Traveling Partner put things on a comic footing in a wholesome loving understanding way, easily distracting me long enough for my unreasonable anger to be defused, unnoticed. No harm done. Fuck I love that man. He can make me laugh when I’m hurting. He can make me cry when I’ve grown jaded.

This morning the first words from my Traveling Partner were words of love and fondness and adoration. He tells me I am precious to him. He tells me he loves me. I feel it. I’m moved and my morning feels… merry. A new beginning. He understands, better than most people, where I’ve been and what I’ve been through. We’ve shared a few years together. We’ve had shared experiences, separately, that are not so commonplace for people generally. He “gets me”, mostly. More so than anyone else has. I feel loved.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I’m in a different place this morning, although I am sitting in the same chair. I’m wrapped in love. It matters.

Be kind to the veterans in your life, and the survivors of war – you don’t have to know the details of what they’ve been through to care, and to be there as a friend. It matters that you care. It’s enough. Help each other begin again, when things get tough. Share the journey. Hell, just be kind, generally – we’re all going through some shit. It’s a very human experience.

I look at the clock. It’s clearly time to begin again. 14 days to a new year – already? Damn. The time passes so quickly…

G’damn there’s bad news everywhere. Genocide. War. Femicide. Domestic Violence. Actual targeted hitman-style murders out in the open on city streets. Corruption. Fraud. Misinformation. Civil unrest. Cabinet appointees to government posts who appear to be actual fucking fraudsters and even rapists. What the hell is going on with the world we live in? Seriously – the rich and powerful are going about their usual business of making each other richer and more powerful, while the average person wonders how they’ll pay their bills, feed their families, or afford medical care… and the government agencies that should be protecting people from corruption are being attacked by the (very rich, very powerful) very people that are the most corrupt. Scary. It’s all very scary, isn’t it? Where are we safe? What can we hold onto for a feeling of security and comfort? The news doesn’t look good – and since the media definitely does profit from keeping us all watching, there’s definitely a tendency to enhance and emphasize the worst of it, to alarm and outrage us all, and to keep us arguing with each other over all of it. Disturbing.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I take a moment – this moment right here – for me. Self-care gets more important, not less so, when times are tough. I enjoy a few moments of conversation and quiet commiseration with my Traveling Partner, too; these connections we share matter even more in hard times. More, better, clearer communication with less emotional escalation and fewer buzzwords and dog whistles makes a lot of difference in “turning down the heat” when we’re feeling anxious, worried, or insecure about the state of the world.

Make no mistake, things are bad – and worse still in other parts of the world (no bombs dropping in this neighborhood, so from a personal perspective it definitely could be worse)…but… Things are often bad, somewhere, and the rich and powerful have been after an unjustly large piece of the pie since money and power existed at all. Resist. Vote. Speak up – with real people, in actual conversations. Keep your eye on the things that matter most, and try not to be deceived by “the man behind the curtain”. Look out for yourself, your family, your neighbor, your community, people generally – and avoid “othering” people needlessly. Regular folks are not our enemies – they’re doing their best too. Pay attention to where the money is actually going, if you can. Be mindful that there are many corrupt people, fraudsters and scammers out there, and keep your hand on your wallet (metaphorically speaking). Stop arguing about religion and identity. People are people. Be alert for greed or pettiness to rear their heads within your own heart – and stamp them out aggressively. “Enough” is truly enough. I mean, it can be. That’s my opinion – but this path has lead me to this place, and I’m happier than I’ve ever been before, more consistently, as a result.

I sigh quietly to myself and sip my coffee. I hurt too much to go walking in sub-freezing temperatures before sunrise this morning. I go directly to the office, and try to avoid obsessively ruminating over bullshit that hasn’t happened yet (the future is not yet written) or shit that is already behind me (the past is over and done with if we allow it to be), or things that honestly don’t directly affect my everyday life in any practical way moment-to-moment (like a presidential pardon for a son, or the friends, family, and cronies of a politician being given plum jobs for which they are in no way at all qualified). I breathe, exhale, and relax – and pull myself back to this here, this now. Perspective matters. For most values of “okay”, I’m okay. For most values of “fine”, I’m fine. I’ve got physical pain to deal with, and the usual humdrum insecurities of modern life – with all the comforts and privilege that come along with those. I don’t have to worry that my partner will kill me (that’s a nice relief, honestly). I don’t currently have to worry about genocide in this country (and I hope I never do). People are people. I commit myself to “being the change I want to see in the world”, myself, and doing my best to be kind, to be considerate, to be generally decent, to refrain from greed and pettiness, to manage my anger with skill, and tolerate others with compassion. What greater good can I personally do the world, from where I sit right now, than simply being the best person I can be? If we all did that, how much more wonderful would the world be for us all?

I think about my Traveling Partner, and the joy of celebrating his birthday, yesterday, and the way he inspires me to be my best self today – and every day. There’s more to life than the terrifying ugliness we see in the news. There’s life, there’s love – there’s now. Finding the joy in each moment is a worthy endeavor.

I think about that and sip my coffee. It’s time to begin again.