Archives for category: 2024 Election

I get to the trailhead as a drenching rain begins to fall. Weather reports have identified the system passing through as an “atmospheric river”, and the temperature is mild (almost warm), and the rain has been frequent and sometimes quite heavy (as it is now), but this won’t last and it’s still dark outside. I can wait for a break in the rain.

I consider reading the news as I wait, but my news feed is filled with obvious slop and clickbait. I have no interest in “mental junk food”. The content we consume (in whatever medium, from whatever feed or channel) really matters. If we become what we practice, then it seems both reasonable and likely that our media consumption will change our thinking over time based on quantity and frequency (“practice”) – and with very little consideration of the quality or truth or accuracy of the content. (I say “likely” , but it has been pretty well tested and demonstrated that this is the case.) It has been shown that if repeated often enough the stupidest lies may begin to be believed. Politicians and advertisers count on it.

Your attention (and mine) has real (monetary) value to platforms, apps, and media companies. Those clicks and views are worth so much that any strategy seems fair (remember Facebook manipulating users’ emotions by making algorithmic changes to see what kinds of content get more views and engagement? remember Cambridge Analytica?). This hints at the potential that any one piece of media content in any format may be poorly fact-checked, or deliberately false or misleading. Just for your attention. Your interests are not being served in any sincere way; you have to look out for those yourself.

I do my best to protect myself from time-wasting or potentially damaging content. It’s not reliably obvious sometimes and I’ve settled on some basic questions about articles and videos to help me sort it out (and am fortunate to be able to count on truly important matters to reach me through my Traveling Partner and friends who have shared values, even when I don’t look at the news at all). Here are the questions I use to evaluate quality content:

  1. Does it rely on a clickbait headline to get your attention? (I avoid these.)
  2. Is it fact-based with citations provided, or an opinion piece? (I avoid opinion pieces, for many reasons.)
  3. Who wrote it? What qualifications do they have on the topic? (I avoid AI “authorship”, and writers of poor quality or poisonous content.)
  4. Who paid for the piece? (Why did they want it written? How does it serve their interests?)
  5. What is the purpose of the piece? (Is it factually accurate? Is it seeking to distract or mislead?)
  6. Who gets the most benefit from swaying readers to this opinion or understanding? (Where are they geographically located? Is the topic directly relevant to the goals of some special interest? Is this made explicitly clear?)
  7. Is the piece filled with affiliate links or banner ads? (I’m just not going to be subjected to that, and will block the source, the whole channel or platform, if it is common strategy there.)

The quality of what we fill our minds and time with really matters. I’d rather rewatch episodes of South Park than waste my time on some affiliate link filled misleading clickbait AI slop. (South Park is often surprisingly deep and usually very socially relevant.) Sure, it can be tempting to reach for a piece of candy or swing through the fast food drive through… but it can’t be called nutritious or healthy. It’s a pretty good analogy. I sit thinking about it for a few minutes.

The rain stops. I grab my cane and throw on my rain poncho as I step out of the car. I stretch and breathe the rain-fresh air. Daybreak soon. I start down the trail.

I get to my halfway point. The trail is soggy and I am grateful to have missed stepping in the puddles. The bench I like to sit on is wet, but the rain poncho makes a dry place to sit. I sigh contentedly. I am feeling rested and unbothered, which is a nice change from recent mornings. I start to think about work, but it’s not yet time for that, and I let it go. This time is for me.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I give myself time to reflect with gratitude on the things going well – like having more of my Traveling Partner’s help around the house as he continues to recover and grow strong again. I feel so much more capable and effective with his help than I do struggling to try to get it all done alone. I’m grateful to have a job that pays the bills and grateful for the cozy and safe house we call home. As this or that aggravation surfaces in my thoughts, I throw an “and I’m grateful that…” on the end of that thought, and defuse my irritation with acknowledgement of some detail that has value, and for which I am sincerely grateful. (Example: the rent on our storage unit has gone up, again, and I’m annoyed to have to move all that stuff to somewhere more affordable… And I’m grateful to have many local options to choose from, even on short notice, making it feasible.)

I sigh a bit impatiently. I am legitimately annoyed to have to do a storage move on a tight budget right before the fucking holidays. There really are other (better) things I could be doing with my time, effort, and resources, but greed doesn’t take holidays – it exploits them. I inhale the fresh morning air, filling my lungs, and exhale slowly, letting my irritation go with my breath. Better. Circumstances are what they are, and we make the best decisions we can to deal with them.

Daybreak comes. The sound of HVAC units on top of buildings some distance away mingles with the sound of my tinnitus until I’m no longer certain which I’m listening to. It is a new day, full of new possibilities and opportunities, and new chances to make doing my best a little better than it was yesterday.

… I guess it’s time to get started on that new beginning. I look down the path as a sprinkling of rain begins to fall. I smile to myself in the darkness, and begin again.

I’m sipping my coffee slowly, after realizing I sat down and started my work day without taking time for me, at all. This is strange behavior (for me), and likely a byproduct of lingering background stress, which seems mostly pretty pointless, and perhaps a bit ridiculous.

It’s a very human experience to be mired in stress that is “inherited” (as from another person’s stress) or “opted-into” (as with becoming stressed by choices to read or consume specific media known to cause stress, and possibly little else), or even illusory (or delusional, as with hand-crafted personalized internal nonsense that just isn’t “real” in any practical sense). Then, of course, there’s all the real stress that may be simmering in the background of an individual human experience…commuting…cost of living…lack of means or resources…some momentary hardship or disaster…the risk of any of these being imminent… Although there are definitely practices that can effectively reduce stress (a lot), feeling stress is part of the human experience. It’s pretty non-negotiable. Sooner or later, a human primate experiences stress. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I sign out of my work tools, and “look away” for a few minutes of self-reflection, meditation, and self-care.

Lately, I’ve been pretty chronically feeling (and responding to) stress day-to-day, more than I had been, for awhile. Some of it is cultural; I’m responding to what so many of us are responding to, because it’s part of our shared experience of watching American democracy struggle. Pretty terrifying shit, and I guess being stressed about it, at least somewhat, is “rational stress”, but it isn’t helpful to become mired in it, or to let it consume my precious mortal lifetime. Then there’s the “work stress”, but that is also pretty routine ordinary shit; I’m new in the role, and still feel a sense that I need to “prove myself” – but this is self-inflicted stress, and I could safely less this go… by letting it go. lol There is an act of willful self-care and discipline involved in releasing that kind of stress. The way out is through, and taking time for self-reflection, and for practices like “taking in the good” are going to be useful for this. The stress sourcing from “home stuff” is a strange stress smoothie of unrelated things: increasing costs, reduced resources, a vague unsettled feeling of job insecurity (a byproduct of being laid off a couple of times after relatively short time in various roles), things I’m behind on but really want to get done, and something I hadn’t anticipated at all – some stress around the changes in my Traveling Partner’s abilities, as his healing progresses. As stressed as I was trying to provide full-time caregiving while also working full-time, I had expected it to dissipate when that caregiving was no longer a massive day-to-day nearly continuous requirement. It hasn’t. Quite the contrary, I’m potentially a bit more stressed working to stay up-to-date with his changing capabilities and needs. I can’t assume his abilities or needs are the same as yesterday. It pushes me out of “auto-pilot”. I can’t really build a routine based on expectations of his needs. Things change and shift with each day, and I’m doing my best, but feel (often) as though I’m just a step behind on everything, all the time. Being fully present is a good thing, and healthy relationships need that presence and connection to thrive. Being fully present is also more work. I sometimes find myself overwhelmed by how much I’m trying to keep track of.

I’m not bitching, I’m simply taking a moment to examine where “all this stress” is coming from – so I can more effectively address any portion of it, at all. It adds up. I sit with my thoughts and my coffee, reflecting on life, love, work, and being human.

I give myself over to a moment of gratitude. There is so much right in my life, giving too much of my attention to the things that may be less than ideal seems wasteful and foolhardy (and a serious bummer).

I look at my hands when I feel my fingertips gently pass over a snagged cuticle, feeling the rough edge of it. The sensation distracts me. I stop myself from pulling at it. This, too, requires presence and discipline. The condition of my fingertips tells the tale of my background stress and general emotional wellness. I set myself a challenge; just for today, don’t pick at my fingertips at all. Just one day. I can do that, right? I think it over, and wonder if I really can. Brain damage and nervous tics and things of that sort don’t work the way a “bad habit” does, but the same “rules” often apply; we become what we practice. If I can practice not fucking biting my nails and tearing up my cuticles, it’s quite likely the behavior may be extinguished… eventually. I may need to replace the physical experience (the actions of the behavior itself) with something else that satisfies the signals reaching (or not reaching) my brain. I think about that, too. I’ve been having some success with a “worry stone”, when watching videos. I’ll keep practicing.

I hear a short bit of a song in my head. Again. It’s been there for days, now. It occurs to me that it may be percolating up from within, a message from me to myself to put attention on reducing my stress before it becomes a problem with serious consequences. I’ve been trying to figure out what song it is for days, because the only thing I hear in my head is the refrain, “Soothe me, Baby, soothe me. Soothe me with your kindness…” Sam and Dave. Finally figured it out. Yeah, it’s a funny little stress response, and not the first time song lyrics “speak to me” in some direct meaningful way.

Tis the season, isn’t it? Are you managing your stress sufficiently well? Have you identified where it may be coming from, in order to more easily deal with it? Are you running from it instead, and hoping for the best? Are you choosing to numb yourself with intoxicants, instead of dealing with it at all? Are you hoping it will go away if you ignore it? Have you started a meditation practice to help you manage your stress – or abandoned one because you feel you have no time for it? I’m of the opinion that life should not (ideally) feel like a hamster wheel. I prefer life to feel like a walk on a well-maintained path, myself, but that isn’t always the experience I have. I chuckle to myself; reality does not care a bit about my opinions, and never has.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s time to begin. Again. I’ll start by managing my stress with gratitude, self-care, and a plan.

Why bother? Why bother trying? Why bother working so hard? Why bother “fighting it”? Why bother making the extra effort to get some particular outcome? Just… why bother, at all? The shortest answer for that one that I’ve got, myself, is simply this; because I’m better than the challenge I’m faced with right now. That’s it.

Things could be worse, for just about any of us. Some momentary challenge is not enough to amount to an excuse not to make an effort to do a better job of being the person I most want to be, to live a good quality life built on healthy values lived authentically, and to just maybe also manage to be helpful, kind, encouraging, curious, compassionate, approachable, considerate, thoughtful, fair-minded, and ethical (if not every minute of every day, then doing my best to be these things in as many moments as I realistically can be)… these are all qualities I value. So… I try. I practice. I share honest insights into my challenges. I work on bettering myself and contributing positively to my household, my community, and my world, if only in some small way. I mean, seriously? I’m one woman; I’m not moving any mountains by myself with a teaspoon, and determination. Not in this lifetime. My actions and choices of words still make a difference in the moments I live and in my interactions with others. I try to stay mindful of the implied power this does have, and do my best to be a basically decent human being, day-to-day. Don’t you? (If not, why not? The answer to that question is an exercise for the reader.)

Holiday lights at 04:30.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s a new day. I woke at some ridiculous hour – 3 am? Maybe. I didn’t check the time, I just wanted to sleep. I could hear my Traveling Partner awake in the other room, blowing his nose. It sucks that he’s awake dealing with his sinuses and struggling to breathe. I fall asleep, wishing he could sleep, too. Some time later, I’m awakened again. It sounded as if my beloved was clearing his throat and blowing his nose right outside the door. I know that’s not the case. He’s most likely seated at the dining table, which is at the end of the hall, opposite the door to this bedroom. The sound is basically piped straight to the door. I sigh, and roll over, and return to sleep. A short while later (I think), I’m awakened again. I’ve no idea if a long while has passed or only a few minutes. I’m groggy. My head aches, and my eyeballs feel gritty. The room feels too hot. I toss around for a moment or two “trying to get comfortable” again. No luck. I must have drifted off, though, into a sound deep sleep, because the next thing I recall is my partner calling to me softly in the darkness, but I don’t recall the question, or whether I understood. I struggled to wake enough to respond to him – I wanted to sleep so badly. The door closed quietly. I know I said something…but I’m not sure what, and the uncertainty itself, and a sudden concern that I would somehow be infinitely trapped in a pattern of waking from deep sleeps without being able to get rest, ever, fully woke me. I could not even imagine returning to sleep. I turn on a light and struggle to sit up. Vertigo. The room reels for a moment, before things steady, and the vertigo passes quickly. I’m grateful for that, and get up to use the bathroom and splash cold water on my face, still trying to really fully wake and maybe somehow manage to feel rested in spite of the interrupted sleep. Restless nights happen now and then, for one or the other of us. After so many years, I generally just move on from it, and practice letting shit go, because there’s no real value in taking an unpleasant tone over a sleep scenario neither of us can change. Sometimes one of us is wakeful. Sometimes we sleep badly. He greets me with a smile and sweet words when I enter the livingroom. I put on my boots and my cardigan and kiss him on my way out.

Holy shit I’m in a ton of pain this morning – and as I drive to the office, I wonder whether my pain was making me restless in my sleep, without waking me, but enough to disturb my Traveling Partner’s rest? Seems possible. Fucking hell, I feel bad for the both of us this morning. I hope he manages to go back to bed for awhile.

Another breath. Another exhalation. Another attempt to fully relax and let stress and pain fall by the wayside. Sometimes it works. Sometimes it’s just practice. Does it matter which it will be? No, I’ve still got to make the effort; it’s the consistent practice that creates incremental change over time. I sigh to myself, and glare at my packed meeting calendar. Tuesday. Fuck. Well, I won’t get much else done than meetings, today, but they are the plan, and that’s what I’ll do. I smile happily when the thought of my beloved’s birthday crosses my mind; my time off for that day is approved. I grin to myself. It’s not that we have elaborate plans, I simply enjoy the man’s company. I’m happy we’re together. He’s worth celebrating, and as I consider the man and the moment, my heart fills with joy.

…For a moment I forget about the pain…

I look at the clock. Always ticking. It’s a new day, and new opportunity to be the woman I most want to be. Feels like I’m off to a good start, this morning, in spite of feeling less than ideally well rested, and a little groggy. I think of the holidays ahead. This year won’t be lavish – everything costs more in Trump’s America, and resources are more limited. That won’t stop the holidays from being magical – I’ve done plenty with less, in years past. It’s more about presence than presents, anyway, isn’t it? I remind myself to propose board games of an evening, or a hand or two of cribbage… Maybe a walk or a drive to see the holiday lights? We’ve got so many ways to enjoy the holidays together!

It’s time to begin again. It’s definitely worth the effort. Why bother? Because you are better than your challenges. Change is. Choose wisely.

Sometimes things feel harder than they seem they should. Misinformation everywhere. The practical details of life getting more costly every week, every month. Paychecks don’t keep up with that unless you happen to be among the very affluent (and then it’s less that the paycheck keeps up than maybe you don’t need to notice the minutiae or count the pennies). (Remember pennies?) Balancing the load takes up a lot of mental bandwidth, even for folks who are very organized and pretty prepared. It’s exhausting.

…It’s okay to admit it when you’re tired…

My head aches. My arthritis pain is actually making me feel ill. I’m distracted from one priority task by the next ostensibly higher priority task. Subjectively, I feel like I “used to be better at juggling all of this”, but I’m not sure that’s literally true. I suspect I’m just feeling a bit overwhelmed by the lingering artifacts of chaos that arrived ahead of me (to this job) or which defy attempts to bring order (the chaos and damage in my own head), or perhaps I am succumbing to the stress of watching the decline of democracy, in spite of my attempt to avoid spending potentially productive time on that bullshit. (It’s not bullshit because it isn’t real, it’s bullshit because it doesn’t need to be this way, and we somehow chose this shit in spite of being told what was coming if we did.)

I’m tired. Not because I’m working my ass off on some construction job site, or laboring on a factory floor, or in a fulfillment warehouse, or on my feet all day. Brain tired. Soul tired. It’s feeling too much like a hamster wheel, some days, and too little like living.

…This too will pass…

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I take a moment to scrounge in my handbag for another dose of Rx pain management, only to discover I’ve already taken that, and I’m already “maxed out” for a work day. Well, shit. I sigh to myself, finish the watered-down dregs of my morning coffee, knowing I’ll likely regret that later tonight. I pull myself upright, and pause to offer someone a compliment for work well done. I find giving others sincere encouragement or expressing gratitude for some task or service someone has provided often distracts me from the pain I’m in. Certainly it’s a better reaction to pain than sobbing or throwing a tantrum. I’d happily just sit somewhere gazing out a window, letting my mind empty itself of concerns, and even thoughts. Parking this fragile vessel and leaving her to idle for awhile would feel pretty good, but… I don’t have time.

…The clock is ticking…

It helps to have a break, and I’m glad I took one. It’s not enough, but it will do for the moment. I imagine the stern look on the face of the woman in the mirror, right now, she knows I could do a better job of taking care of myself than I often do. I make her a promise I probably won’t keep, and hope that she understands. It has to be enough… it’s the best I can do right now. Isn’t it?

…”No. Do better.” I imagine her answering, “You matter. You can at least take a proper fucking break…”

I sigh again, and get up from my desk to take a proper break. The sun is shining. I go outside and get some fresh air, and watch the squirrels play for a few minutes, and stretch. It’s chilly but not cold. The sunshine feels good. Now I feel ready to begin again.

Seriously. Let go of FOMO. Fear of missing out drives some pretty crappy decision-making. Remember the instant craze for those Stanley drink cups, when they came out in colors? Yeah. I’m glad I passed on that foolishness. Why? Um… Simple…

Who really “won” in this FOMO craze?

Those cups are everywhere now. Most likely that was always the goal for Stanley – a product becoming a huge fad and selling well. Right? Profit. The fuss drove so much interest these things are now readily available at most big box retailers and discount chains. If you spent more than retail pricing on the reseller market when this product was a big deal, you overpaid.

Tis the season to do a bit of gift shopping, for many of us. Want your dollar to go further? Don’t waste your time on FOMO. Want your dollar to mean more? Spend it locally, on locally produced and manufactured goods. Buy imported items from retailers you know are committed to fair trade practices and supply chains free of human trafficking and child labor. Avoid goods produced in dictatorships, or by prison labor. Small details like that can really matter. Make this gift giving holiday one characterized by thoughtful consideration, and careful selection, and not quantity. Or don’t. It’s your celebration and I’m not telling you what to do, just offering suggestions. Just maybe be mindful that “Black Friday deals” aren’t actually about you, the consumer. They are about business, and selling more product.  Those big box and chain retailers don’t care one bit about you, the consumer, beyond the limits of your bank account, and they’d happily take all you have and give you nothing, if that were feasible.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. My good mood yesterday morning was thrashed within minutes of returning home from my walk. I didn’t want to vex my Traveling Partner with my irritability, so I grabbed my purse, turned myself around, and headed into the retail chaos of Black Friday.

I don’t generally shop on Black Friday, seeing it as a retail cash grab more than anything else (and I loathe the crowds), and often the things I want to give as gifts are not the sort of things that are most often discounted. Specific books. Specialty tools. Handcrafted goods. Locally produced specialty products (around here that could be wine, various farm-produced goods for kitchen or home, olive oil, spirits, blown glass, chocolates, or charcuterie). Something to keep in mind is that artisans and craftspeople often sell their work at the lowest price they can afford to, already, just trying to compete with low cost mass produced goods. So… Do you want to gift people dear to you with a lot of cheap poor quality items for a festive morning of unboxing followed by a bit of gracious depression when the reality of worth sets in? Maybe gifting a small number of carefully selected gifts that will be enjoyed for some time to come sounds more appealing? It’s your call, and I’m not criticizing or even suggesting these are the only options. (And I’ll admit that one gift high on my wishlist this year is cheap colorful fuzzy spa socks of the sort commonly found in dime stores and grocery stores; they’re my favorite for lounging around the house or sleeping. 😆) The unicorn we’re all hunting is “more for less”, I suppose. Enjoy the hunt!

I didn’t actually buy anything on Black Friday, aside from a non-holiday (also not discounted) tool item for my Partner’s shop. I didn’t even grocery shop. I just wandered around a couple of very holiday forward retail spaces, a little bored and very irritable. “Holiday blues”, maybe, or “the down” the day after having taken more pain medication than is routine for me, in order to push through the work of bringing the Thanksgiving holiday to the table; it matters less why I was irritable, than how I dealt with it, and whether I was successful at managing it. The day ended well.

Daybreak comes.

Today is a new day. I’m sitting at my halfway point on my morning trail walk, contemplating yesterday’s failures and successes, and making room for gratitude and joy. I’ll get some grocery shopping done on my way home, and spend the day decorating the Giftmas tree. There are already carols in my head, and I caught myself singing “Joy to the World” as I drove to the trail this morning. I notice, again, the dearth of secular holiday carols. It is a chilly autumn morning, clear and still, no rain, no wind, and the clouds are breaking up as they slowly move across the sky.

A woman, a moment, a sunrise.

I sit listening to the traffic on the highway on the other side of the seasonal marsh trail. I can see hints of the sunrise developing, through the trees. My tinnitus is loud, but I pay it no attention. Eventually, I may forget about it for awhile. The twisted oak branches, bare of leaves, make an interesting silhouette against the sky. I look for shapes and faces in the tangled branches, for fun. As daylight improves the visibility, I see a small brown bird seated on this fence rail, at the other end, paying me no attention at all, feathers fluffed for warmth, head tucked in a bit, eyes closed. Sleeping? I stifle my laughter, but still manage to shake the fence rail, disturbing my wee neighbor, who wakes, shakes her feathers, and flies off. I see the shapes of other little birds, sitting in the tree branches. (Sit still long enough, watching, and you will surely see some things!)

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I consider the day ahead. This moment here? Quite enough precisely as it is. I think of my Traveling Partner sleeping at home. I know he was up during the night, for some while. I hope his “second sleep” gives him the rest he needs. I’ve no need to rush home from my walk, and silently commit to giving him time to sleep undisturbed. Far from being any sort of hardship, doing so also serves my own needs; I enjoy the solitude in the morning.

I sigh to myself. My hands are becoming stiff in the cold. I finish my writing and get ready to begin again. It’s a brand new day.