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100% Human

July 15, 2024 //
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This content is 100% written by a human being. No AI tools are used by the author. The writing is inspired by lived experience, most of it explicitly my own. Some of it is inspired by the observed or considered experiences of others. Hell, I barely pay any mind to readily available spelling or grammar checking tools, preferring to carefully review and correct my own writing, even at the very real cost of missing mistakes that then make it to the published work. lol (And still generally manage to be better grammatically than quite a lot of AI generated garbage being promoted as “news” online!)

I’m just making a point to confirm that I am 100% made of live, real, pure human, with all the flaws and raw emotion that implies. I have no plans to change that, ever; I don’t personally prefer AI generated content, whether written, or artistic. It isn’t even about that fundamentally aesthetic preference, though. What could AI have to say, in any useful way, about the lived experience of human emotion, of surviving trauma, or details like the taste of coffee, or the sight of a sunrise? It’s way outside the “comprehension” of an algorithm, however complex, and as of 2024, what we all seem so eager to call “AI” is not “intelligent”; it lacks cognition and comprehension. AI can not understand.

…No, I am not an expert in AI. I’m a human being with an entirely other skill set, professionally. I can read, do have cognitive abilities and consciousness, and pretty good reading comprehension, and having made a point to read along and pay attention, I can summarize with clarity and simplicity (mostly). In 2024, the term “AI” is a marketing term used to generate interest (and revenue) which refers to a category of machine learning tools and algorithms which on their own are already sufficiently problematic to warrant real concern over several areas of interest. Concerns such as what role they will or should play in the workforce, and what their impact is on the copyright protections of artists and writers and creators of entertainment. We haven’t even created “real AI” yet, and we’re already in hot water of the “what have we done?” variety.

Daybreak at the trailhead.

I walk the trail with my very human thoughts, pausing now and then to make a note, before continuing. The sun rises slowly through the orange glow of the dawn. The sky becomes suffused with a lemony yellow. The summer air feels heavy and still. My tinnitus is loud in my ears. It’s a Monday, and a work day. I walk on. I think about love. I think about sex. I think about money. I think about making chicken tikka masala for dinner tonight. Human thoughts, framed in a human context. No expertise required; I’m simply living my life.

I recently heard that bot traffic is likely a larger portion of total Internet traffic these days than human traffic is. That’s a little mind-blowing and a lot disappointing. It says unpleasant things about human greed (to be fair, there’s nothing actually pleasant about human greed to be said in the first place). I figured that with that in mind, I would make a point of reassuring you that I am indeed actually human, actually writing these words, and that they are intended explicitly for a human audience having human experiences.  It may not always be reliably obvious, as time goes on, which writing online is human-authored, or which images are created by human artists. Easier to simply say so. lol

… But can you trust my words, and do you even care…?

I sigh and walk on. I’ll have to be content with living my life, writing and creating on my own terms, and enjoying the moments I’ve got. The golden sun peeks at me from between the trees as I continue down the trail. The air is already warming up. I hear the sound of distant commuter traffic, and a construction site nearby getting work started. I eventually reach a spot I like for taking a moment to sit and get my thoughts in order. It’s a lovely morning, whatever else the day may hold. A good beginning. (Sometimes a good beginning is the best I can do, and sometimes that’s enough.)

I check my writing for spelling mistakes and grammatical errors that may change the meaning of my words. I sit with my thoughts awhile before I upload my draft for publication. It feels like it’s already time to begin again… I definitely don’t know what the future holds. Mine is a very human experience.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, Art, art and the artist, breathe, Free Will, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Practices, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being, Words

A New Normal

July 11, 2024 //
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Life is beginning to develop a “new normal”. Change is, and it won’t be argued with. We adapt. Shift gears. Adjust routines. Change our habits. Resisting change, generally, is fairly pointless (especially if we chose it). How we cope with it says a lot about who we are.

My Traveling Partner and the Anxious Adventurer seem to be enjoying the new arrangement generally speaking. I’m okay with it, too. It’s pretty nice having some help while my partner is injured. I can now see a time on the horizon of my future when I won’t be chronically exhausted and on the edge of hitting some emotional or physical limitation that shuts me down and reduces my capacity to be helpful. It’s encouraging.

Having still less time to myself and less space of my own to retreat into takes getting used to. This is offset, though, by how much better things can be for my Traveling Partner, how much more skillfully his needs can be met by the two of us splitting up the work of caregiving, and how this makes it so much easier (for me) to also focus on my partner romantically and emotionally (because I am not completely run down by physical labor). Caregiving is more difficult than it may appear to someone not involved in caregiving, themselves. I’ve certainly got a newfound depth of understanding about it, personally!

I sigh quietly to myself, sitting alone on a bench along the trail, watching the sun rise. Pretty morning. Maybe less hot than it has been? I’m grateful for these quiet solitary moments.

As often happens with me, changes in my environment (and living situation) have disrupted my sleep. I wake briefly at odd times, responding to a new noise, or turning over and somehow noticing my orientation in the room is different than it had been previously, or just different than I expect. Sometimes I actually wake, maybe sit up for a moment, or read for a little while. It’s fine. It’ll pass. Annoyingly, one of these new “wake points” is at 03:00, too close to my typical time to wake up such that I can’t easily get back to sleep. lol It’ll pass. Change is, and I do adapt.

Another work day. Soon the weekend. 16 days to my coastal getaway. It’s nice having that to look forward to. There’s quite a bit of work and change to manage between now and then, but… It’s fine. Truly fine. I feel pretty good this morning, in spite of arthritis and headache pain. Pleasant morning.

I find myself missing my Traveling Partner, though we’re separated only by a handful of miles and the few minutes of travel time from finishing my walk to returning home. Humans are strange creatures prone to attachment. lol

The sun continues to rise. It’s time to finish my walk and get on with the day. It’s a good time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being

Summer Heat

July 9, 2024 //
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This morning I woke early, watered the lawn before sunrise, and enjoyed coffee with my Traveling Partner. I left the house at more or less the usual time. Instead of an iced coffee, I picked up a bottle of water on my way to the trailhead, because I stupidly forgot to refill my water bottle. It’s going to be another hot day and I didn’t want to end up dehydrated walking the trail as the sun rises.

As I drove, the sun breached the horizon, a demonic angry red, seeming larger and more intense in the sky than on other mornings. It was such an astonishing sight that I grabbed my phone as I drove hoping to snap even one blurry picture – because that was some unbelievable shit right there! Wow. So huge in the sky and such a fierce relentless hue, it seemed as if disaster must surely be imminent. I failed to get a picture. I succeeded in not causing (or becoming victim of) a collision.

As I rounded a later curve in the road, I saw the sun, now fully above the horizon, still looking massively large in the sky, and only slightly less strange in color, a bold deep orange slowly rising in a hazy summer sky. It’s going to be another hot day for certain. I’m glad I took time to water the lawn and the garden.

Summer heat ahead. A strange mist clings to the low places.

I hit the trail and walked my miles. Returned to the car still thinking about that crazy sunrise. Climate change? Distant wildfires? Summer heat and haze?  I find myself wondering if I will ever see such a sunrise again…or will a day come when every sunrise seems to herald possible disaster or appear on the horizon as some sort of dreadful sign of worse to come? I hope not…? But what a sight!

…We may yet have a chance to avoid destroying our planet… We might want to do something with that, eh?

…It’s already past time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Summer, War and News of War

Building a New Normal

July 1, 2024 //
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Sometimes change is hard. Sometimes change arrives rather quickly, and instead of evolving gradually over time, it pulls up out front in a moving van and unpacks over a weekend. 😂

…We managed to get most of the necessary move-in basics handled and the truck returned on time…

Getting the Anxious Adventurer moved in was the priority for the weekend, other than caring for my Traveling Partner, who was effective and handy, supporting various tasks with thoughtful guidance. The whole chaotic endeavor was considerably improved by how we each embraced the circumstances (no doubt each for our own reasons). We’re all in it together and it was obvious.

I’m definitely feeling the strain of the aggressive pace of the weekend’s activity in sore muscles and lingering fatigue. “A new normal” begins with this quiet, pleasant Monday morning. I’ll work from home with much more freedom to focus on work with my Traveling Partner’s son now available to help out, too. Hell, I might have enough left in me at the end of the day to cook a proper meal! There’s more to do, but now it can be handled within the context of the day-to-day living of life, which feels pretty good. I even got to spend some time reading last night!

There’s more to do. The work of adjusting to the changes required is not yet completed. There are boxes to go into storage. Things to change or “fix” about how the household is set up, to be better suited to three people, where there had been only two, before. The living room, though, is no longer filled with the contents of a moving van, and no one is sleeping on the floor. Progress. Today will be my first day working from my completely rearranged office-studio-creative space, which still needs a bit more fine-tuning. I chuckle to myself, still amused and astonished that I managed to move a full-sized couch into such a small room (with the help of the Anxious Adventurer and the guidance of my Traveling Partner giving instructions from down the hall). Funnier still, it manages to be more “cozy” than crowded. It will force me to be quite mindful of the space and keep it very neat, though; there is no room to tolerate clutter. Not one spare square inch of space is left for being careless or messy.

I while away a few minutes thinking about change and wondering when my Traveling Partner’s surgery will be? Scheduling that should happen today. Once we’ve got the date settled, I’ll also schedule some away-time for myself, for a date maybe a couple weeks after the surgery. Damn, it’s good to have the help of the Anxious Adventurer! I feel incredibly grateful and very fortunate. I finally have the emotional “room” to breathe and reflect and consider and exist outside the constraints of holding myself constantly at the ready to handle any/every task, every moment, all of every day… That was a lot of pressure, but I didn’t know how else to handle things.

… I’m so tired…

It’s a new day. A new opportunity to begin again. There’s more to do (nearly always is), but life has “less weight to it” somehow and I feel pretty good, generally. I woke at my usual early time, and I’ve had the trail to myself this morning. I watched the sun rise as I walked, and these quiet minutes to write and reflect don’t feel snatched from the limited time available for everything else that needs doing. It’s nice.

I don’t yet know what the new normal looks like, but I’m on this path and I’ll know soon enough. I stretch and yawn and smile. It’s time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, art and the artist, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Summer, The Art of Being

The Great Household Shuffling of 2024

June 29, 2024 //
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I survived yesterday’s chaos with reasonable grace, I think. I’m okay with the recollection of the day, and the outcomes of various moments. The steady process of handling tasks to do with my Traveling Partner’s son moving in is well-underway, everyone doing their part to get everything done reasonably quickly. It’s a lot to do, and there’s still more. It’ll all get done in due time.

I am finding it quite interesting to see so many things learned over time reflected back at me through the lens of seeing these experiences and practices through observation of someone who has had quite different experiences in life, having not yet learned these things at all. My stepson seems to me a bit of an “anxious adventurer”, willfully and deliberately seeking new experiences and growth, by choice, while also finding the novel situations this puts him in quite uncomfortable and anxiety-provoking. (His results vary.) I’m impressed by his adventurous nature. I’m impressed by his will to fight through his anxiety. I’m concerned by his lack of specific life skills and his lack of exposure to some fundamentals of resilience and emotional wellness. Those concerns are in no way his “fault” and it’s not about blame anyway. He’s a fellow traveler and for the time being, also a family member residing with my partner and me. There’s a lot to learn, to share, to consider…and there’s time for all that. It’s the sort of thing that does take time – and practice.

For my part, the work involved in compressing my personal space to make room for The Anxious Adventurer is sometimes quite poignant. I worked so hard for so long to have some of the luxuries I’ve been able to enjoy these last four years… but my small library uses an entire bedroom (it’s also my meditation space). My art studio, doing double duty as my office, takes another. Somehow, just due to practical logistical considerations, I’ve ended up compressing most of these things into the smallest fucking room in the house. Since it’s not actually possible to do that in a literal sense, the books and shelves of my wee library will be relocated to the main bedroom. It’s fine. It’s all fine. None of this is intended to be permanent (as my Traveling Partner regularly reminds me).

… I do know how reality works, however, and I am familiar with the vagaries of “temporary” arrangements…

A new day

Mostly, I’m just looking forward to whatever the new normal may be, and figuring that out won’t happen until the moving and shuffling around of various things is really finished (likely some weeks after my Traveling Partner has his surgery and has subsequently also recovered).

I woke quite early this morning, ahead of the sunrise entirely. I have a Saturday appointment in the city which I already wish I had cancelled due to the inconvenience of its timing, but it’s an appointment for care with a provider who reliably actually helps. Seems foolish to cancel that, when my day-to-day pain would benefit from it so much. It’s the sort of foolishly short-sighted choice I am prone to make. I’m mostly glad I didn’t cancel, but my anxiety nags at me for “being so selfish” or “letting everyone else down”. (Which is one of the many lies my anxiety tells me.)

… I still find it quite difficult to make my own self-care a high priority, in spite of knowing how important it is…

I slipped quietly out of the house far earlier than necessary, this morning, but I think I managed to do it without waking either my Traveling Partner or the Anxious Adventurer. Win! I arrived at the trailhead just at daybreak. I walked the trail between river and marsh, listening to the birds and the sound of distant traffic (and my tinnitus). It’s been lovely. I had the trail to myself. I took my time. Stopped here and there for a picture or a moment. It’s been quite satisfying and joyful, and a delightful use of my time.

… I needed the break and the solitude…

I got back to the car too early to head to the city. I write a while. I meditate. I think about coffee. Maybe breakfast? In any case, it’s time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, art and the artist, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being
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