Archives for category: Despair
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Gratitude Wins Over Anger

July 29, 2025 //
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My morning has had a difficult beginning. I dislike driving while crying, and it frankly isn’t safe. I’m doing my best in this moment to put the difficult start to the day behind me, and maybe figure out a new beginning, or some kind of reset to turn things around. For the moment, I’m very human, and seem to be mostly made of tears and disappointment, which is annoying (and predictably temporary).

Stop. Breathe. Begin again.

This morning’s sunrise was lovely, I guess. I didn’t really see it with my eyes and my whole attention; I was mired in emotional bullshit and the sorrows and drama of humans being human. This morning that whole mess sources within my own home and relationships, so no opportunity to wax philosophically about perspective and blah blah blah – just this personal struggle to deal with it as skillfully as I am able, which, right now, seems like “not very”.

…I’m pretty reliably saddened and hurt by my Traveling Partner being angry with me, and even more so when it seems like something I have little control over at all ( in this case, his allergies) as with this morning…

Emotion and reason; it’s a complicated balance.

I sigh quietly, and try to get my tears under control because it is a work day, and I have meetings to attend like “a proper grown-up”. (It’s hard to care, frankly; these tears, and my partner’s feelings, matter so much more in this moment, and that is the truth of emotion and reason; emotion matters more.) It sucks that my Traveling Partner woke choking with allergies and struggling to breathe. I wish I knew how to help with that in some truly effective way. Subjectively, I feel that I’m doing all I can, already. If I knew more to do, I’d do it. Every time the thought of his discomfort, and his subsequent angry words as I left for work, surfaces in my consciousness again the tears well up. Not helpful. I reflect on the unpleasant moment we shared. I could have done things differently. Feeling provoked to anger, myself, by “the unfairness of it all” on top of his angry words led to me leaving the house angry and crying, and to slamming the door on my way out. Childish and neither helpful nor necessary. I feel foolish over my loss of patience and kindness. I could definitely have done better. I don’t respond well to angry words or raised voices, most especially when I’ve just woken up. I don’t say that to excuse bad behavior – there is no real excuse – I’m just putting things in context and working to cut myself (and my Traveling Partner) some slack. Emotions are sometimes difficult to manage skillfully (for anyone), and this is true whether I’m being snarled at first thing in the morning, or whether my partner is struggling to breathe, and as a result short-tempered and easily provoked, himself. It all just sucks very much.

…I miss living alone sometimes, it seems “easier” (for some values of “easy”, under some circumstances)…

A bumblebee and a rose; they need each other.

The tears come and go. I’d rather not deal with this shit all day, but if I’m going to get past it, I’ll have to do the work to restore my lost perspective, myself. My Traveling Partner’s anger reliably hurts so much. Fuck, I hope he’s able to get his breath back – more than anything else, I want him to be comfortable and content and able to do the things he wants to do, whether that’s work or rest or whatever. Fuck my feelings! In context they are not the bigger deal. In spite of my tears and hurt feelings, I wish him only well, and suddenly I find myself wondering if I should have stayed? Did he need to go to the ER? I reacted to his frustration and anger so quickly, that I didn’t take time to assess the situation with greater care. I feel a little ashamed by that, then recall the messages he DM’d me after I’d left the house. I guess if he had needed to go to the ER, he’d have said something then.

Work. Shit. I struggle with regaining perspective on the day and getting my head into my work. Very human. The emotions “matter” more, at least for now. I breathe, and try to let the morning’s difficult beginning fall away, to focus on work. I’ll get there at some point. For now it’s hard, and I keep practicing. My head is stuffy from crying, making it tougher to breathe, and I’m reminded of what my Traveling Partner was – may still be – going through, himself. I wish I could help, somehow. My coffee is insipid, and my head aches. My tinnitus is loud in my ears. My eyes feel puffy. I sigh again, and keep working on “pulling myself together”. I hope my partner is doing better than I am, right now. What a shitty start to the day, for both of us.

…”This too will pass”, I remind myself…

“Orange Honey” – just a picture of a lovely rose blooming in my garden. I try to distract myself from the moment, to begin again.

It sometimes takes more work than I expect, to be the person I most want to be. My temper sometimes catches me by surprise. I can do better. I need more practice, I guess. Certainly there’s no point taking my Traveling Partner’s anger over struggling to breathe “personally” – we all need to be able to breathe, and being deprived of that ability is (from my limited experience) quite terrifying. It’s a short step to anger from there. I’m also certain that in a more rational moment (when he can breathe comfortably), he likely wouldn’t put the blame for his allergies on me personally, and recognizes that I would not ever deliberately do anything that could prevent him from breathing – at least, I hope so. I wish I could do more to bring him comfort and ease his suffering, though. Right now, I mean. I’m vexed by feeling so helpless.

I sigh again. I’m glad I have the office to myself at this hour; no one sees me crying. I have a chance to get my shit together and my emotions under control. There’s work to do, and a full calendar of meetings. My results may vary, but it is definitely time to begin again. I begin with gratitude; it’s hard to hold onto anger when I feel grateful, and I am grateful (very) for the many things my Traveling Partner does for me (and us). Just looking around at my desk, there are so many signs of his affection… this is not “hopeless”, it’s just a moment. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I can only do my best, and the path isn’t always an easy one, but it is mine. I have choices. I can begin again like a sunrise on a new day – it’s enough. We become what we practice.

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, breathe, Despair, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, health, Logic & Reason, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Roses, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5

On the Matter of Opinion

July 14, 2025 //
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People can be so matter-of-fact about their opinions. We treat them as facts. We get so spun up over differences between our own opinion and the opinion of others, we forget that relationships and people matter more. Many of us express opinions – strongly – for which we have limited actual knowledge or data with which to support some opinion that is often little better than a sound-bite we snatched from a social media feed, and become pushy when people we value disagree, in spite of our lack of any actual knowledge. It’s messy. Humans are complicated, and we regularly over-simplify what is happening around us, seeking to reduce every discussion to a very basic either/or dilemma, instead of embracing uncertainty and nuance and approaching the world with curiosity – and compassion.

Why am I on about this, this morning? Because the media and big corporate advertisers and our own elected officials are constantly trying to manipulate our opinions, not to get at “the truth”, but primarily for profit. Are you being bamboozled by bullshit? I saw a headline in my feed this morning that read “we asked 5 chefs what their favorite vanilla ice cream is, and they all said this” and laughed out loud. In what way is a sample size of 5 at all significant? It isn’t. That wasn’t news – it was barely sponsored content (and almost certainly AI generated) – it’s just an unoriginal narrative intended to sell a particular brand of ice cream, nothing more. Five people think it’s the best vanilla ice cream? Out of how many people who eat ice cream? Insignificant. This isn’t even the most ridiculous example of the mockery of truth on display for everyone to see (and potentially be mislead by).

If you want to see an example of massive manipulation of public opinion, I suggest the ongoing saga of the crimes of Jeffrey Epstein, which more and more looks (to me) like a very direct actual no-foolin’ cover-up of possible past crimes of our current president. No kidding – why else would he fight so very hard to redirect our attention? Ghislaine Maxwell went to prison for 20 years for “enticement of minors and sex trafficking of underage girls” – for Jeffrey Epstein and his friends. Doesn’t look like anyone but Ghislaine is going to see a conviction for their part in the crimes against Epstein’s victims. I promise you, he wasn’t the only person abusing those girls – there are too many photos of too many parties, and too many people, and too many stories. Trump himself is in too many pictures with Epstein, friendly, partying, laughing together, for him to be immune from scrutiny. They had history together socially. So. Here we all are, being lied to and mislead. (My opinion.)What are you going to do about it? Anything at all? Or is it just easier to allow the rapist-in-chief to redirect your attention?

Hollyhocks blooming. This is not an opinion.

I sip my coffee and let it go. People are what they are. We excuse and justify the bad acts of people we favor, but seek to harshly penalize anyone we “other” and look on with disdain. I don’t get how rapists get a pass, but immigrants willing to work hard seeking a better life for their families are criminalized. It’s a very peculiar thing, in my opinion. Our justice system and our government are broken and we don’t seem competent to fix them. Hell, we can’t even take care of the planet we live on, or our own sick or poor or elderly. We’re too busy chasing some illusion of happiness and scapegoating anyone we think may be in our way, while we disagree over who deserves what amount of pay for what sorts of labor and pretending that billionaires “earned” what they have.

I breath, exhale, and relax, and let it go – again. I’ve got my opinions. Clearly. You’ve got yours. That’s a certainty. Maybe humanity will eventually figure this shit out – or go extinct, another failed species, too stupid to survive. Wow. That sounds grim. I look out the window at the clear blue summer sky and sigh. I’m human, too. I’ve got my opinions, some of them suck and are wildly ill-informed, others demonstrate my potential as a human being in a more positive way. Sharing them is mostly pretty fucking pointless; most of humanity is standing around waiting to talk – or to be told what their opinion is by someone they assume knows more than they do, themselves. I’m not even in a bad mood this morning… I’m just annoyed by a headline that suggests a sample size of 5 matters at all, and I’m disappointed by the painful awareness that many people won’t even give that a second thought; they’ll just go buy the ice cream.

Potted geranium blooming. Also not an opinion.

My coffee is pleasant, well-made, icy. I slept well and deeply and woke feeling rested. Hell, I’m not in any pain right at the moment, none at all – not even my almost-ever-present headache! I take a moment to be present in this moment, aware of my lack of pain, savoring this experience long enough to really enjoy it. I don’t doubt it will pass, at some point, that’s the way moments work – but here, now, in this moment? I feel pretty good. It’s a lovely day. There are no bombs dropping here. No annoying voices in the background. The workday ahead looks routine and the work in front of me manageable. The bills are paid. The pantry is stocked. I’ve got a full tank of gas. I’ve got a Traveling Partner who loves me dearly and does a lot to make feel feel appreciated and wrapped in this enduring love we share. He makes all sorts of little things to delight me and make life better. I’ve got a nice little house. My stepson does everything he knows how to do, most days, to be helpful, to deepen his emotional intelligence, and to improve his “life skills” such that he’s a valued family member in our household – no small thing. My commute was pleasant and easy, in spite of there being much more traffic (due to timing). The office AC is working efficiently.

It is a better experience to appreciate the view than to be angry about the traffic.

There’s much to be grateful for, and I sit with those thoughts awhile. It’s unhealthy to stew in aggravation, bitterness, disappointment, and vexation with “humanity” – and it is a corrosive practice, generally, that never got me anywhere good. We become what we practice. Practice bitterness and cynicism, and life becomes characterized by the terrible things going on in the world, chronically disappointing, and we lose hope. Practice gratitude – authentically – and we become appreciative of the good things in our lives, and more easily able to be resilient in the face of terrible times, and potentially more able to find solutions, because we are clear-headed, and grounded in the things we know work. Or something. It works for me. I share these thoughts with you, because maybe you’ll find value here (for some values of “value”)… or be inspired to do more/better, or simply to begin again and make some small change for the better in your life. I smile to myself at the thought; these are my experiences, and also my opinions. Maybe they’re worth something, maybe they aren’t. I don’t even know that it matters to anyone but me…but I can hope.

I glance at the time. The clock is ticking. Are you ready to begin again? I am.

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Categories 2024 Election, Allegories, anger, Anxiety, breathe, Despair, Fiction, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5, turning 60, War and News of War, Words

Sitting With the Moment

July 2, 2025 //
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I’m sipping my coffee on a sunny summer morning. I woke earlier than necessary, tackled a gardening task my Traveling Partner asked me to attend to before I left for the office. The commute was an ordinary enough sort of drive, with very little traffic and a lovely sunrise I’d happily have enjoyed just sitting and watching, if it were that sort of morning. (It isn’t; it’s a work day and I had an early call.) I sigh to myself, now, thinking of other sunrises, and other summer mornings.

The Fourth of July is just ahead of us on the calendar, and I find myself wondering… what are we even celebrating, with democracy going down in flames, ridiculous new heights of governmental cruelty being achieved, and authoritarianism on the rise in this once (mostly) democratic republic? Surely we’re not stupid and arrogant enough to think we’re celebrating our national independence? We can’t possibly still see ourselves as “the good guys” on the world stage (particularly after betraying multiple trusts, treaties, and allies)? It’s all rather grotesque, isn’t it? How did we get here? (I mean, critical thinking and rational contemplation will easily answer that question for you, but you may not like the answer. I know I don’t.) Do better, America – you so easily could. I’m honestly deeply disappointed, not only as a citizen, but also as a military veteran. I don’t have any easy answers, but I can see this is “not the way”. Nothing about the path we’re on is “making America great”.

I sigh to myself and let that shit go. Again. I look out the window on a lovely summer morning, and wish you well, today (each and all of you). I hope no one is coming for you and that you feel safe. I hope you experience moments of joy, both profound and simple, and often. I hope you are loved. I hope you are walking your own path, finding your own way, and satisfied with the journey you are making. I hope you’re getting somewhere in life – and that your successes are as you, yourself, define success. I hope you thrive and prosper. (And no, I don’t care about your immigration status, religion, gender, or the color of your skin – we’re all equally human, are we not?) I hope that if you are sick, you have adequate resources and access to necessary medical care. I hope that if you find yourself anxious that you also find hope and comfort. I hope gratitude is a larger part of your experience than resentment, and that your curiosity about the world around you dampens your anger over circumstances. I hope you find equity and that you are treated fairly in life. I hope you free yourself from poor decision-making and unverified assumptions. I hope you take a moment to enjoy simply being, now and then, and appreciate how precious each moment really is.

Human beings have so much capacity for love, joy, and compassion. We could do better than we often do, each of us, every day. I sit with that thought – I’m no angel. I’m not perfect. I struggle. I yearn. I fret over nonsense. I keep practicing; we become what we practice. (What are you practicing? Is that who you truly wish to be?)

I think about the things I’ve seen in life. The places I’ve been. As journeys go, this thing called “life” has lead me far and wide, down one path and then another, and there’s no knowing what is around the next bend – more practicing, more steps, and further to go, but… what else? Where does this path lead? I guess I’ll know once I get there, wherever “there” happens to be. I breathe, exhale, and relax, and embrace this very pleasant “now”. I know it’ll pass – moments always do. No telling what’s next, so it only makes sense to enjoy this, right here, for every second of this finite mortal life that can be enjoyed, eh?

My mind wanders to my garden, before returning to the workday in front of me. A long weekend ahead sounds nice, though I don’t prefer the summer heat, and genuinely don’t see what it is we should be celebrating on the 4th of July these days. My sigh breaks the stillness, again. My anxiety flares up in the background; the world is in chaos, and sometimes I feel as if I can’t breathe because of it. Existential dread is an ass-kicker. I take time for meditation to steady myself for another day. It’s time to begin again.

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Categories 2024 Election, anger, Anxiety, breathe, Despair, Frustration, gratitude, joy, Logic & Reason, meditation, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Practices, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5, War and News of War, Words

Expectations? Meet Reality.

June 26, 2025 //
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It is the wee hours, and I’m awake. I haven’t yet fallen asleep, but I’ve enjoyed some lovely quiet time reading (re-reading a favorite classic, Siddhartha by Herman Hesse).

…I expected to fall asleep quickly.

An experience is very much what we make of it, and reality has no particular relationship to our expectations at all. I chuckle about it in the darkness. I’m unconcerned about having my device in front of my eyes right now, having dimmed the display to less than 25% and only “stopping by” while I drink some water and finish this cough drop to soothe my still irritated throat.

I was not wholly surprised to find myself wakeful. Different pain meds. Substantial changes in routine (to prepare for surgery), which included giving up supplements, and limiting or changing the timing of various medications and over-the-counter remedies. Of course I’m not asleep. I slept in this morning. I was drugged or unconscious much of the morning due to surgery. I slept for unmeasured hours after I was released to go home. Why would I even expect to actually be tired beyond the fatigue of injury itself? (Every healing surgery is also an experience of being injured, and systems interfered with!)

So. I’ve stirred myself enough to get some water. A cough drop. A change of position. (Picked another book, just in case sleeplessness persists.) I’ll meditate, then try sleep again and see where things stand when a new day dawns. That’ll be soon enough to begin again. First I need to take care of me (and brush aside these expectations cluttering things up my thinking, too, eh?).

Once upon a time there was a rose…

Morning of a new day. Why that picture? Because the damned deer ate my roses (again) and I was thinking about that during the night. I’d waited 4 years for that rose (Golden Opportunity) to bloom! I’m glad I got to see her. The deer only eat tender new growth… many roses bloom on new growth – you see the problem? Could be little cages for every rose next year except those that the deer don’t favor (I suspect they are either too thorny, or don’t taste good for some reason).

My cup of coffee is good this morning. Hot. Well and carefully made. Exactly as I like it. I’m grateful, but apparently I inconsiderately left the counter a mess (everything is just a bit more difficult with my left hand impaired, but that’s no excuse for not noticing that I had dripped coffee and grounds on the counter and failed to clean them up). So human. My Traveling Partner called it out with some annoyance; no one likes waking up to a mess. He was kind enough to clean it up as he made his own coffee. I’m annoyed with myself for leaving it, though. I hope our morning together is pleasant otherwise. I’m mostly myself this morning, but still recovering, and a little impaired. I remind myself to slow down and be patient with myself and alert to my surroundings.

I finally slept last night. I slept until I woke, much later than I generally would. My timing all feels off. It’ll pass. There’s no pressure; I’m off work today to recover. I take my time doing the budget and payday stuff; I’m typing with only 9 fingers, presently, and it feels awkward with the finger that is not available being an index finger. This will also pass. A lot of the details of our human experience are quite temporary. Too temporary for a lot of fuss and bother or agitation, generally. It’d be nice if that were an easier idea to hold onto in a stressful moment! It takes practice – and the practice is in the lived experiences; results will vary. I sip my coffee and think about that. We become what we practice – there is persistence implied, and continued repetition over time. Effort. Verbs. Will.

It’s pleasant to have a Greek yogurt drink (peach) with my coffee this morning. I didn’t enjoy having to go to “clear liquids” only, for the 24 hours before my surgery. lol It was more about the loss of the sensual delight in tasting something good, less about hunger or blood sugar – the Ozempic definitely did it’s job there. Turns out that, at least for me, the experience of food and meals and tasting things is one of life’s real joys, and the day felt stripped of something precious without it. It wasn’t actually a big deal, it’s just genuinely nice not having to go without, and I’m appreciating that. There is real value in taking a moment to appreciate something, to feel it, to enjoy it, to be in that moment, so I make it a point to do that. It has tended to result in an implicit experience of life as pleasant and positive, generally, instead of the bleakness and feeling of futility that once characterized how I experienced my life. A very good practice (for me) and a change I’m very glad I made.

Yesterday was quite nice, after the surgery. I mostly slept, but when I woke it was to an experience of being cared for. My Traveling Partner was wonderful, (going with me to my surgery, bringing me home and caring for me all day) and the Anxious Adventurer did his part as well (bringing me a very nice sorbet to soothe my throat on his way home from work and taking care of dishes and trash and housekeeping stuff), and it was so nice to chillax over silly videos and munch pizza together at dinner time. No idea what today holds, really, nothing complicated – I’m giving myself the best chance I can to heal well and thoroughly without complications. I use my hands a lot. I’m grateful to have the use of them.

I think things over another few minutes. I hear my partner call to me from the other room, checking on me. It’s time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, joy, Love, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Roses, Sleepless Nights, Summer, The Art of Being

I Have Mine, You Have Yours

June 22, 2025 //
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The morning sky is a featureless homogeneous soft gray. It rained during the night, and feels like it might rain again today at some point. My walk was quiet, and I spent the time mostly in my own head. I’ve got my own opinions about world events, and I know you have yours. No doubt we each think we’re right (or at least justified) about the opinions we hold. The smarter we each actually are, the more likely we’re also aware of how wrong we could be, or sensitive to how nuanced circumstances truly are.

Being human is funny that way; we’re each having our own experience. Each walking our own path. Each of us making the journey on our own terms, except where we’ve yielded our decision making power to some Other. We’ve got our own opinions, formed and informed by our own experiences, and our own circumstances, colored by our individual pattern of biases, assumptions, and superstitions. We’ve got our own dreams, our own goals, our own disappointments and inner demons. We are individuals capable of critical thinking, when we choose to think critically (a choice which is quite separate from the ability). We create the world we live in directly through our choices and our actions. We are, as a species, uniquely creative and incredibly intelligent, while also being willfully stupid and terribly destructive. The scale of our ability to destroy is likely to be our undoing; we lack the wisdom to be cautious and to approach threats to our survival with care. A large portion of the whole of humanity is thoroughly committed to profit and personal gain even at the cost of humanity’s demise. Weird.

Oak trees in a meadow, the largest of them have been here longer than I have.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. Warfare is stupid and pointlessly destructive. That’s my opinion. We could do better.

I sit with my thoughts and my opinions at the edge of this meadow, wishing human beings weren’t so completely shortsighted and criminally greedy. I sigh and try again to let that go. Fretting over things I can’t change about the decision making and opinions of other people is just about as pointless as things get. I definitely have better things to do with my time. Strange that people so eager to make war don’t seem aware that they could choose peace instead.

“Golden Opportunity” blooming on a rainy day.

I sit awhile wondering how it is we have not yet overcome the most basic flaws in our character as human primates and wonder why it is so many of us are so greedy for arbitrary representations of wealth. I hear the traffic in the distance. It’s a quiet morning, here. No bombs falling here. No drone attacks. No artillery fire. No landmines in these meadows. No trenches. No destruction. Americans tend to be some very NIMBY motherfuckers about such things; we fling our munitions at targets elsewhere in the world, and very few Americans have stared directly into the face of the God of War. To do so would force us to confront the cruelty, waste, and injustice of war, and to reckon with the body count. It is my opinion that most people who understand war and the cost in wasted resources and lost lives don’t so easily choose to inflict it on others. What do I even know about it, beyond my own experience, though? Maybe nothing.

I have seen war, up close and personal. I’d rather not go there again. Nothing is worth paying that price. Nothing. Humanity could do better. We make terrible choices.

A crow watching the tide come in.

It’s been a lovely week off. Now the weekend begins to end and the world is waiting. What next? Where does this path lead? Each moment is a blank page – what story will you write? What choices will you make? How will you (or I) make the world a better place for every creature who makes this muddy rock hurtling through space their home? We could… There are verbs involved, and our results will vary. I promise you one thing; war is not the way.

I sigh to myself. You can lead a human being to knowledge but you cannot make them think.

I get to my feet and look down the trail. Moments are fleeting. It’s a good time to begin again. I’ll do my best to live well, to embrace joy, and encourage others, and to refrain from acts of destruction. I can, if nothing else, live my values authentically and avoid violence. I may not change the world for the better in any obvious way, but I can surely avoid making shit worse.

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Categories 2024 Election, Allegories, anger, breathe, Despair, Free Will, grief, Logic & Reason, meditation, Metaphors, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being, War and News of War
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