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No Words

January 16, 2026 //
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Today I’m sipping my coffee, and waiting for words to come. No AI, no prompts, no hints, no suggestions, I just sip coffee and wander through my own thoughts, sifting through the random bullshit for something to say. This morning, words are not coming so easily. It’s Friday, before a three-day weekend. There’s one more work day between me, and a visit from The Author. I’m looking forward to his visit.

…I’m tempted to stop there, and simply enjoy my coffee and this Ill Gates track. It has samples of Bruce Lee, “Be Like Water”. I try to find a clip of that interview to share, but AI slop is so pervasive right now I don’t find anything from a source I trust to be authentic, so I skip it and move on. My Traveling Partner shares a video – apparently Google has decided to be even more evil, and has integrated their fucking AI into Gmail. Gross. I definitely will not be turning that shit on. My Traveling Partner is right; it’s time to shed Googles tools, including Gmail.

I remember when I was a young analyst learning my trade in the Army. There was so much emphasis, every day, on the strict prohibitions against data collection on US individuals or listening in on their communications. These activities were not merely regulated, they were not permitted at all. Now? Hell, we invite surveillance into our lives through our connected apps and devices: smartphones, TVs, digital assistants listening in ambient spaces, fitness trackers…and even our dishwashers, refridgerators, cars… and our email. Gross. Then there’s Elon-fucking-Musk and his troll army over on X, using Grok to attack and demean people. You realize that if those entities stealing our data and invading our privacy had to pay us each directly for every individual piece of data collected, and sold, they would likely stop doing that shit… or we’d have a comfortable means of providing UBI to everyone. We are living in the worst timeline. Do better humans – before we all run out of chances.

I’m feeling cross and gloomy. Irritable. I don’t have any kind of reasonable reason for this experience, other than I allowed my mind to wander into a minefield of irritating bullshit looking for something to say, and now here I am. LOL I could do better. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I let go of the lingering irritation and let my mind wander on.

I glance at the small straight scar that stretches from knuckle to knuckle on my left index finger. It is a very tidy carefully done reminder of the surgery I had (last year?) to remove some kind of cyst that had formed under the skin there, years ago, that vexed me every time I bumped it and made it hurt all over again. I don’t really remember when it first developed, only that it got a bit larger every time I wacked it on something carelessly, until one day my Traveling Partner noticed it there, swollen and dark looking. I’d given up trying to get a doctor to pay attention to it by that point. He insisted I have it looked at again. My current GP sent me directly to a surgeon to consult, and weeks later it was removed. It could have been something more serious. I’m grateful it wasn’t. I feel a little foolish every time I see that careful very straight scar; I put up with too many years of discomfort that could have easily been resolved by attending to it sooner. The feeling of “learned helplessness” and futility that resulted from routinely being dismissed or just not heard defeated me before I ever really tried. There’s something to learn from that, and I reflect on it every time I see that little scar.

Another breath. Another moment. Another sip of coffee. I glance at the time, and think about the day ahead, although there’s no need. Not yet. My beloved sends me a message – cute “stickers”. I feel loved. I sigh to myself. I’d definitely rather be taking the day off. I chuckle at the silent admission. Obviously. Nothing new there. I decide I’ll treat myself to a daylight walk later in the morning, maybe between meetings…?

I sigh to myself. I guess feeling restless and disinclined to work, struggling to want to focus, is better than being a grumpy jerk. lol It’s enough. The morning feels re-set, and I’m ready to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, meditation, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, The Art of Being, Words

In a Jam

January 11, 2026 //
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It was raspberry jam, as I recall…

The jar was almost empty, and it had gotten shoved to the back of the refridgerator. The lid was cranked down on that jar so tightly that it could not be opened easily, and stayed firmly closed in spite of various attempts. Putting jam on a biscuit should not be this difficult for anyone. Frustration built quickly; this was the third, possibly fourth idea for a sweet bite in the evening, after dinner, and where the others failed due to lack of some ingredient, this was failing over… a jam jar. There didn’t appear to be any other jam in the house, either (although it would later turn out that tiny holiday jams were available, too, they were not cold, and they were not visually obvious to someone who did not know they were there). Cupboards slammed. Tempers flared. An evening’s pleasant quiet was broken.

…This wasn’t about the jam. That’s where it got tricky, actually, this was about the lack of consideration for someone expecting to be cared for, lack of accommodation of known disabilities, and lack of awareness. That’s what the anger was about.

Sometimes it’s really difficult to keep the needs of other people clearly in mind. Consideration is one of the toughest of my relationship values; it forces me out of my head and demands that I be present, aware of others, and considering our shared (and individual) needs more or less continuously. That jam jar didn’t get shoved into the back of the refridgerator intentionally; it was a thoughtless act. The last person to close that jar probably didn’t crank that lid down like that deliberately, which ultimately required considerable effort to get that jar open, they likely were not even thinking about what they were doing in that moment. As the jam got used, no one thought to put it on the grocery list, and so we ran out, resulting in a minimal portion of jam remaining, in a jar that couldn’t be opened by the woman with arthritis in her thumbs (or my Traveling Partner), barely enough to amount to a serving, difficult to get at it in the first place, and the result was hurt feelings, frustration, and seething anger when it was clear that other members of the household were simply not getting what the fuss was about. What the reaction excessive? Yeah, probably. Almost certainly. Here’s the thing, though; everyone in the house is aware of familiar with each other’s disabilities. The expectation – and it has been made explicit (we’ve talked about it as a family a lot) – is that we are each considering those limitations, and accounting for them in our daily actions. That didn’t happen, and it derailed a lovely evening as a result.

Eventually, things settled into a more harmonious state. The jam got restocked when I next went shopping, and reminders were given all around to put things on the shopping list when the last of anything is opened (rather than waiting for it to run out completely – maybe that wasn’t clear enough, previously). Room was made on a shelf in the refridgerator door to hold the currently-open jar of jam, for easier access. Steps were taken to put things right. It’s important that this jam over jam isn’t misunderstood, though – because it wasn’t about the jam. It was about the lack of consideration, the lack of care, and the implied disrespect involved in those, and if that isn’t clear it is very likely that some similar jam over something other than jam may erupt at some future time and place for all the same reasons.

…Hell, I’ve thoughtlessly set myself up for failure in a very similar way, simply by not paying attention to what I was doing in the moment, and dealing with the consequences of my own lack of consideration, later…

I have sometimes been accused of being “overly considerate” (no kidding, some people will find reason to criticize anything, even things that work in their favor). I don’t happen to agree; I manage to persist in sometimes failing to consider some important detail, implying I am as yet still not sufficiently considerate enough of the time. I keep practicing. It’s not the easiest thing to open a refridgerator to put away groceries, and while doing so consider whether each item is where the person most likely to want it will easily find it and be able to reach it. It’s not the easiest thing to tidy up with an eye on the next person to use that thing – or that space. It requires presence, and awareness. It may require clarifying questions (“Hey, if I put the jam here on this shelf, can you reach that?”). It will surely require me to step outside myself and try to see things from the perspective of some other person. Doing this well begins with Theory of Mind, and it’s rather unfortunate that a great many adults fail to use the full measure of their capacity to understand someone else’s experience or perspective, resulting in a lot of chaos, heartache, frustration, and anger.

We are each having our own experience. We each follow our own path. We each understand words based on our own internal dictionary, and tend to reflect on our experiences through the lens of…our own experiences. Although we are “all in this together”, humanity’s shared journey is being taken by individuals who not only don’t read minds, they barely understand their own sometimes, and there is no “user’s guide”. It’s a puzzle. I keep practicing.

I sip my coffee on a quiet Sunday morning. The rest of the house sleeps. I’m astonished that I managed to wake up, wash my face and brush my teeth, make coffee and then move things around in my studio/office space to comfortably write at my computer, while I wake up. This feels like a major win. I’m fortunate that my sinuses feel pretty clear, and I didn’t wake with a cough. Am I finally really over the recent bout of flu? Well that “only” took four weeks – I’m grateful it wasn’t worse.

I sip my coffee and think about jam. Funny, this whole jam over jam was days ago. It stuck with me because I continued to turn it over in my head. The conversation. The emotions. The underlying factual details. The interwoven relationships and the expectation-setting. The actions, reactions, and over-reactions. The course-correction, and careful mending of hurt feelings. It felt to me like there was a lot more to learn from this than the obvious lesson, which initially seemed to be “put shit on the grocery list before it completely runs out”, but I knew it was more nuanced than that, and I kept thinking it over. I woke this morning, thinking about jam – and also thimble cookies, and raspberry bars, and coffee cakes with a jam swirl in the middle, and biscuits fresh from the oven, warm and ready for jam. I chuckle to myself wondering if thoughts of delicious baked goods are the cognitive reward for “doing my homework”? lol

I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s a lovely Sunday morning. I’m ready to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Frustration, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Moments, Parables, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being, The Big 5, winter, Words

The Stupidest Timeline

January 7, 2026 //
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Do you ever wake up thinking, “good grief what a stupid fucking world we live in”, more in disappointed astonishment than anything else? Yeah… Looks like that kind of day. Distressing dreams, though I slept deeply and well, and only woke once briefly. I don’t dare look at the news this morning. I’m sure it will be more of the same bullshit: pointless dick-measuring by egotistical grifters in office, pettiness, violence, AI slop to dodge, and… sponsored content. No thanks. I’ll just have this coffee and then start the work day.

Yesterday evening I watched a favorite action movie to put myself in a better mood (totally worked). Why do people love action movies and superhero movies? Maybe because, generally, the good guys win – and it’s usually clear who the good guys are. Why movies about underdogs who make it? Because people want to feel, for a moment, that it is possible for anyone to overcome the impossibly unfair “rules of the game”, if only they “really try” (and get some lucky breaks). Time travel movies? Those fill a need to believe that some moment in the past was significantly better – or perhaps that some moment in the future may be – and that it is possible to get there. We don’t look too closely at the role we each (and all) play in the state of things as they are, here and now. (Who did you vote for in the most recent elections? How many letters or calls have you made to your representatives since then making your voice heard? Where are you protesting? What are you practicing?) I sigh to myself. I’m grateful for this cup of fairly average coffee; it’s hot, it’s coffee, it’s here, and it is a reliable small pleasure in life, no wishful thinking required.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. Yesterday got off to a difficult start and I felt tired and worn down all day. A night of rest helped immensely, and today looks brighter. The world hasn’t changed (much) in 24 hours. It’s still a fucking mess. I’m okay. This moment is okay. This cup of coffee is okay. The quiet conversations of the baristas working the early shift is calm in the background. One barista, about my age I think, calls me “hun”, and it is clear she worked a long time as a waitress in local diners; it is a particular kind of friendliness. A lucky bank-shot drops the tissue I used into the appropriate waste recepticle, without having to get up to pick it up off the floor. Small things can really color a moment or change the feel of an experience. I let myself enjoy the moment as it is. Here. Now.

How’s your moment? What will you do with it?

I take a breathe, which turns into sneezing and a couple more lucky tissue tosses into a waste recepticle I should probably step to, instead. I am feeling mostly completely over the flu, now, but I’ve got congested sinuses first thing in the morning to deal with, and some coughing as I call it a night, and a less than ideal limitation on my voice, which starts to give up on me about 45 minutes into any meeting that I attend. It will pass. All of it will pass, and it isn’t even strange for me; once that shit had moved into my lungs, I knew this was coming. I know it will pass – so long as I continue to get the rest I need, and practice good basic self-care. There are verbs involved and I do play a role in my successful recovery. I have to continue to make healthy choices as I get well.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I take some time to meditate, just here in this warm coffee shop, before they turn on the background music for the day. I soak in the feeling of things being okay, here, now, without looking beyond this moment, or this place. Thoughts cross my mind like clouds in a breeze, observed but distant. Another breathe, another thought, another exhalation, another release of background stress or some element of anxiety. I relax. I sip my coffee. This simple practice is such a pleasant start to a day.

It is a busy month. I’ve got an old friend coming to visit over a week, about 10 days from now, and a return to the office in San Francisco at the end of the month, between those we’ve got to move our stuff from one storage place to another storage place. For me, this feels “busy”. I know people who would embrace such a “relaxed” calendar as “down time”. It used to be that I would ferociously push myself to approach life at a much more intense pace, with multiple events or activities on my calendar every day. I felt constantly harried, pushed, and often overwhelmed, my eye always on the clock. My temper flared with my impatience or my frustration, and I carried multiple sources of reminders, from sticky notes and calendar entries, to alarms, reminders, and notifications set in this or that app (once apps were a thing). I lived in my Franklin-Covey dayplanner. lol I thought it was a requirement of life, or perhaps unavoidable. I learned over time how many choices I was making, and I learned to make those differently, and accept who I am. I don’t like feeling “busy” or rushed, or harassed, or hurried. I like to focus, and work through a single task with my mind on that task while I’m doing it. I do my best work that way. It was a comfort to allow myself to move away from the internal “I’m great at multitasking!” lie and feeling chronically overconstrained and chased for my time and attention, to choosing what to put my attention on, and setting boundaries about my time and attention. I make different choices. I’m less anxiety prone, less forgetful, less irritable, less overwhelmed. This is better for me.

…It’s not a sprint, it’s not even an endurance race, it’s a very long walk on an undefined trail – without a map, just a hint of a sense of a destination in mind. lol Good thing I like to walk!

I’m not yet walking in the mornings, again. I do miss it. It’s quite cold right now, though, and my Traveling Partner has asked that I take better care of myself, and not be out in the cold and darkness, walking when I’m not at my best. That seems reasonable and sensible, and I agreed to “slow down” and take care of myself. It seems to be working out for the best. I’m still looking forward to mornings out on the trail, but circumstances play a part, and it may be February before that happens, just because there is a lot going on, and I’ll no doubt need my energy for those things in the short-term.

…I remind myself to mask up for travel at the end of the month; I’m fairly certain I was exposed to the flu on the aircraft that returned me home. I at least observed definite direct exposure to someone ill, when some mother’s half-wit feral adult-ish boy-child lumbered through the aircraft gracelessly, coughing down on other passengers as he passed by, not even covering his fucking cough with his sleeve. Rude. I was annoyed at the time, and that made the moment somewhat more memorable than other casual exposure was. I’d likely have gotten sick even if I never saw that guy coughing all over everyone so carelessly… I was on an airplane; the air is recycled.

You’d think we all learned one thing during the COVID pandemic – that wearing a mask (properly), washing our hands, and practicing a measure of social distancing reduces exposure to contagion. I mean, are you kidding? How is that not all so super obvious, given a moment of thought? …Or are you among the “you can’t force me to wear a mask!!” group, or the “the vaccine has more risk than the disease” group? Maybe you’re simply one of the “you can’t tell me, I’ve got my rights!” people seeing conspiracies everywhere? If you are, I mean you no harm. I’ve simply got my own opinion about these things (just like you) and I am doing what appears to be most effective and appropriate, with greatest potential benefit to my entire community. It’s not about me, really, is it? It’s about taking steps to create and maintain a healthy world in which humanity and all manner of living thinking creatures can thrive. Right? …Although I do prefer to take the steps that reduce my own exposure to illness, and increase my chances of survival, myself, because I have found life worth living. (Shit – I need to pick up more masks! I jot down a reminder on my shopping list, then remind myself to ask my Traveling Partner if we already have some at home and I’ve just forgotten where they are.)

…It took a while to get here…

I frown cynically at my coffee cup – Starbucks. Yeah, yeah, okay. I know. Conspiracies pull people in because – more than anything else – some prove to be actually based on real shit going on. Governments actually do some terrible things (looking your way ICE, and DOD) – and lie to hide those terrible things from view. That’s real. Honest ethical behavior in governance is rather unfortunately rare, and very unreliable. Conspiracy theories develop because corruption, lies, and bad behavior really exist, and are often covered up intentionally by the self-serving individuals who benefit from the bad acts. That’s real. When does a “conspiracy theory” become simply some terrible thing that a government, agency, enterprise, or individual has actually done? As an example torn from current events… “conspiracy theories” about Epstein now seem less like distortions of fact than legit actual coverups. People who were associated with him, or who have powerful friends who were associated with him, scramble to cover their involvement, but… It’s likely that it will all come out, eventually. Just like Watergate, just like MK Ultra, just like the Tuskegee Study. It’s even harder to pull off a really grand conspiracy in the digital age than it was in the days of snail mail and paper documents. I snicker to myself, pretty certain that the elected elderly of our gerontocratic government still don’t get that. You can’t hide secrets from the future.

I sigh quietly, thinking again that maybe there should be an age limit to holding office? I mean, seriously? I’d retire now if I could afford to – I’ve got plenty of my own shit to do, and so little free time. Why the hell do we persist in electing people to office who are old enough to be reliably out-of-touch with current science and the real, lived concerns and struggles of everyday people? I’m not saying we’d do any better to fill the government with Zoomers… they lack life experience and depth of knowledge (although, I can imagine scenarios where that might be an advantage) and their childhood basic socialization was impaired by the pandemic. I think the ideal is somewhere between the extremes; sufficient lived experience to have begun building wisdom, but young enough that resilience and passion prevent cyncism and resignation… 35 to 65 maybe? If the “full retirement age” is 67, wouldn’t it be easiest to simply make that the end point for a career as an elected official? I’m not chucking asparagus at my elders – far from it – but look where we are with a gridlocked partisan government of elders faced with the real issues springing up from new technologies they have yet to embrace and understand fully? This isn’t working. I sip my coffee and think about that. There could also be a case made for only electing people who have retired from successful first or second careers, who are “taking a step back” into governance, maybe as a measure of “return on investment” by bringing their years of experience into administration that benefits everyone? I still see potential improvements in our shared experience that could come from an age “cap” on elected officials, in the sense that advanced years definitely come with some cognitive and intellectual limitations for many people. It’s complicated, isn’t it?

I correct my posture and shift restlessly in my seat, as I write and drink coffee, killing time before the library (where I’ll be working) opens (it doesn’t open until 08:00). This is a nice start to the day; I hope the entire day is similarly pleasant. I smile quietly, thinking of my Traveling Partner sleeping at home. He seemed pleased yesterday that I found an option for my morning that neither had me knocking about the house noisily, nor out on the trail before dawn, while I’m getting over the last symptoms of the flu – a solution that also allow him to sleep later than I do. Today also being a work day for the Anxious Adventurer, my beloved will have the house to himself for awhile, and being winter there is no chance at all that people will be mowing or making a ton of noise. I envy his many opportunities to enjoy solitude at home, but it also vexes me that he has to endure that solitude far more often than he needs it. It’s hard to find the right balance and maintain it. I’m glad he’ll get some rest today; I know he needs that.

The minutes tick by. I’m content to let them, and powerless to stop them anyway. I think about the weekend ahead; I’m overdue to take down the holiday decor. I usually do it on New Year’s Day, a sort of ritual for starting the new year with “order” from the merry chaos of the holidays. This year, having been quite ill for a couple weeks, I just didn’t have the energy for it. This weekend, I’ll get that done. My new friend from work may come down to visit on Sunday… maybe. We take turns canceling plans for “reasons”, and enjoy a friendship that respects that. We’ve both got disabilities that make changes of plans rather common. We’re not frustrated by it, because we see each other, and we “get it”. She’s a “Millennial” (as is the Anxious Adventurer), and once we set clear expectations for each other regarding communication we’ve had no stress over it (neither of us treat text communication as “real-time”, prioritizing IRL interactions over texting, but neither of us care to pick up the phone, either). I grin, thinking about how much I enjoy her conversation… haven’t yet given her a pseudonym. I think about her for a moment, her smile, her current buzz cut colorful hair, her humor, her drama, her story to tell… After a few minutes, I realize this is not going to be an easy one. She’s chaotic, and has a good heart – like me. We like so many of the same things in a similar way, it sometimes feels a little eerie…we’re fun together. I realize that in some other life I could perhaps love her differently, but that’s not where/who we are in this lifetime. Romance isn’t what we’re looking for out of this, and friendship is definitely something we are enjoying, and which meets a real need (at least for me). I sip my coffee. The Chaotic Comic… I smile, because the words bring to mind her face, and the alliteration amuses me. This will do nicely.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. The cafe turns on their mediocre background music (sorry Taylor Swift, I can’t listen to you every day, just not my thing, personally). I pick up my phone and turn on private background music – Bluetooth straight to my hearing aids. lol Sometimes I fucking love the modern world. 😀

The clock ticks on – and it’s time to begin again.

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Categories 2024 Election, Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being, The Big 5, turning 60, winter, Words

Dealing With My Anger

January 6, 2026 //
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Wakened unexpectedly by my Traveling Partner, who is having his own experience, I sat up to get my bearings. Stress, and sounds of a cupboard or door banging in another room. I don’t deal well with this sort of disturbance, most especially when I’m pulled from a deep sleep to deal with it. My temper flares. Not productive or useful. I breathe, exhale, and… get dressed. I get my work gear together, throw on a warm sweater and a warm cardigan over that. It’s a cold morning. I’m not yet up to long walks in freezing temperatures after being sick for weeks. Coffee? That’ll do.

I get my shit together before I find my way to doing or saying something out of anger that would be an unpleasant escalation. It’s too early for that shit. G’damn I’m so tired. Coffee, solitude, and some time writing sounds a lot better. I wish my Traveling Partner well and express hopes that he gets the rest he needs, as I head out into the darkness of a cold winter morning.

…I can’t say I have any particular fondness for Starbucks as a business, or even as a purveyor of coffee, I mean, it’s fine. Chain coffee. I’m fucking grateful this morning, though; they’re open. It’s damned early, and there aren’t many places open with indoor seating and hot coffee at this hour. We happen to have a Starbucks that is open at 04:30. Handy. Coffee, a table, an internet connection – and a woman with some time on her hands who needs to get her emotions sorted out without disturbing anyone else. This will do.

My friend, the Author, is coming for a visit later this month. It’ll be good to talk things over with him. He has so much perspective and lived experience. I think about other friends I can share with, talk things over with, get insights from, and just feel heard on subjects that I know I struggle with; my anger, healthy relationships, and boundary-setting. I send an email to my therapist asking to make an appointment, and whether he might have an opening this week? Sleep is important; my Traveling Partner needs it to heal and be well. I also need it, to recover from illness, to maintain emotional balance, to age gently, to be well… all needs that human beings share. We all need sleep. We don’t all get it easily. I find myself seething over it, and I know that taking action from a place of emotion can result in poor decision-making. So, I sit with my coffee and my anger, wondering what the actual fuck I can do with this emotional bullshit to create order from chaos?

Emotions are not actually “bullshit”. They are an important part of who and what we are as human beings. We have shared needs as primates and as mammals, and even as thinking reasoning creatures – but we’re each having our own experience. It’s regrettably easy to view the world entirely through the lens of our own experience, taking this or that personally, lashing out at perceived slights or hurts without pausing to consider the context, or to fact-check impressions. Emotions are useful – they give us a lot of information about the way in which our circumstances and values intersect. They tell other people where they fit in our world, too. Relationships are rarely held together by reason or logical thought. More commonly, they are built on an emotional foundation, and shared experience. And when that goes sour? What then? I frown to myself, feeling stressed and insecure in my closest relationship. This has been my longest… we’re going on 16 years. That’s 3 years more than the next longest. Where does this path lead?

I sip my coffee and reflect on life and love, and struggle and choices. Love is wonderful stuff – but I don’t find it “easy”. I’ve got issues (maybe we all do?), and I’m not an easy fit for cohabitation. Relationships take real work. Loving someone doesn’t seem to make that any easier, though I often find myself thinking that is somehow “should”. (Reality does not care how I think things “should be”. lol I chuckle to myself and some of my anger dissipates.) G’damn I’m going to be tired by the end of the damned day, though; I really needed the sleep I almost got. The thought makes my anger flare up again. I breathe, exhale, and relax. Fucking hell this human journey is messy, indirect, poorly mapped, and frankly it feels too damned easy to get lost on a path that looks clear on a sunny day, but is obscured in the fog. (It’s a metaphor.)

I think about my “Big Five” relationship values, again: respect, consideration, reciprocity, compassion, and openness, and this morning I find myself wondering how many of these my beloved Traveling Partner truly shares with me…? Maybe his values are different. I sigh to myself over my coffee. It’s difficult to ascertain how much of the emotion of the moment is coloring my thinking. Maybe a lot, that’s very human. Wisdom gained through painful experience and mistakes over time have taught me that it is best to reflect long, and let moments be moments. I sip my coffee grateful for the warmth of the cup in my hand, the shelter of a bustling retail space around me, and the wisdom to let moments pass. I catch myself wondering, though, what is on the path ahead.

Another breath, another moment. My headache is fueled by my lack of deep rest. My backache is worsened by the cold damp weather. My mood is not improved by the vapid pop music in the background – songs of lust and heartbreak, sung to the tune of a forgotten advertising jingle. Sometimes life is surreal to the point of seeming almost profound or insightful, without improving my perspective. Why so many breakup songs? Because breaking up is a thing human primates do, and we are singers of songs and tellers of tales, eh?

The world spins on madly… I keep drinking my coffee, hoping for that moment when clarity arrives and settles the day. Maybe. I get an unexpected text from my therapist directly to my phone, instead of the reply to my email I expected later. Something about my phrasing got his attention, and he replies by text directly to me. He has an opening tomorrow, if I can do a virtual appointment I can make the timing work. I gratefully accept; there are definitely some things I avoid burdening friends with. We’ve all got our shit to get through, right? I’m not trying to make anyone carry a heavier load, I just need to talk about some things, in real words, with a real person who really knows me. I’ve been seeing my therapist (off and on these days), since 2013. It makes sense to keep (and deepen) the relationships we have that work – whether friends, family, colleagues, lovers, or therapists.

There’s no “coded language” here. I’m just one human primate dealing with baggage, and the lasting chaos and damage of relationships that most certainly did not “work”, but left behind a lot of wreckage, and weirdness, and moments of temper or sorrow to manage. Our past relationships, and the trauma or hurts that resulted, create portions of the foundation on which our present and future relationships rest. This complicates things like perspective, boundary-setting, perceptions, assumptions, and whether or how we react in some moment. The way out is through, they say. (Who exactly are “they”? How many ways out have “they” explored in a practical way? Was what they were going through relevant to my experience at all?) I sigh to myself. People are complicated. Each having their own experience. Each walking their own path. Each using a subtly different “dictionary”, while also likely to be assuming those definitions are universally shared – and often without being watchful for variances that lead to miscommunication. Fucking hell, why is communication so hard? I frown at my coffee, head pounding. Some questions don’t have useful answers.

…”What do you want? Will it help you become the person you most want to be?” my mind whispers to me from the shadows…

I sit with my thoughts, waiting, wondering, and annoyed by the background music. Perspective reminds me things could be so much worse. Experience tells me this relationship is generally pretty good, and fairly healthy. We’re still humans being human. It’s messy sometimes. Disappointing sometimes. Aggravating sometimes. It’s also rewarding, joyful, enriching, uplifting, and encouraging… maybe just not this morning, right now, in this moment? Human. I sigh to myself, hoping my Traveling Partner gets back to sleep and gets some of the rest he needs, even though I won’t. Not this morning. Another sigh, and I finish my coffee. It’s time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being, The Big 5, women

Overlooked Value & Unrealized Potential

December 30, 2025 //
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I woke from a deep sound sleep, surprised that it was “already” morning. The lights in the room had reached full brightness before my alarm woke me. This surprises me, but does not cause any anxiety; even waking with my alarm does not create any condition of “lateness”, it’s simply unusual for me to sleep to that point without waking on my own to some sound or perception of movement in the house (that may or may not be real). I get up, dress, and move through my morning routine until my feet carry me across the threshold of the front door, and out into the world. Hopefully, I managed not to wake anyone, but my Traveling Partner is a relatively light sleeper, and it is often the case that my departure (or some noise as I was dressing) will wake him, if not for the day for some little while. (I hope he slept; he needs the rest.)

I made the drive to the co-work space, as much for the time spent in thought as for any characteristic of being in an office. I’d happily work from home every day (and I’m set up for it, and have a job that expects it), but circumstances being what they are, and faced with the demands of basic consideration, and also just not liking having to “deal with people” first thing after I wake… it’s just easier to go somewhere else for a few hours, if not for the entire day, at least for the morning portion of it. I do everything I can to create some solitary time for myself to properly wake up, drink some coffee, and sort myself out before I interact with other people. I do everything I can to give my Traveling Partner that same opportunity. I consider it a matter of courtesy, but it is also entirely self-serving; I dislike drama or conflict when I’m “still waking up” even more than I dislike interacting with other people at that delicate hour, which is really saying something. The most effective means of avoiding all that is to be somewhere else, preferably where other people aren’t.

The co-work space is quiet. It’s early. I’m alone. There’s only the soft clicking of my fingers dancing across the keyboard, and the background noise of the ventilation. I sip my coffee (iced) and alternate with a hot cup of tea (chamomile & rose, with a bit of honey) to sooth my throat. My head aches, but it could be worse. My arthritis is griefing me, but again – I’ve had worse days than this. I am still fighting lingering symptoms of having been ill… and it’s been just a bit more than two weeks, now. (I knew what I was in for when the ick moved from my sinuses into my throat, then into my chest. I’ll fight this shit for weeks more, probably.) These fucking meat sacks are fragile and bothersome…but life, as it is, offers few alternatives. lol It is what we make of it. I chuckle to myself. I know damned well it could be so much worse. I breathe, exhale, and relax. Sip my coffee. Sip my tea. Think my thoughts.

2025 is nearly over. Good times, and hard times, we’ve seen some things, haven’t we? Wow. Another year over… another new year about to begin.

…the new year is a blank page…

I think for a bit about how easy it is to be down on each other – or ourselves – when things are going poorly, or in some moment of vexation or conflict. We may say some pretty terrible things to people we care for deeply, in some moment of anger or frustration. I’m not excusing that; bad behavior does not benefit from excuse-making. Better to correct it, once identified. We’re each human beings, being human, though, and it is true that hurt people often hurt people. We develope “coping skills” over a lifetime to deal with trauma and petty bullshit, and often don’t reevaluate those behaviors later in our lives when they are clearly no longer ideal (or possibly not even appropriate). Being kind, considerate, and gracious take practice. Saying “I’m sorry” takes practice. Being open and listening deeply take practice. Being an uplifting presence in our relationships instead of a chronically sarcastic buzzkill takes practice. For any one of us to become the human being we most want to be, there is a requirement that we do the work involved in changing who we may already have become at some point in the past. It is necessary to change. That all sounds really obvious… and I guess it mostly is, but…

…Sometimes when we’re stressed or feeling down about ourselves in some moment, we lose track of the real value we bring to our experience, and to the lives of those with whom we are “sharing the journey”. We overlook our value in our relationships. We have so much unrealized potential as human beings, each one of us, but when we are mired in harsh words, hurt feelings, emotional baggage, past trauma and present regrets, we wander around in a fog of hurt and sorrow feeling “stuck” and lacking options. It’s an illusion. We have value as individuals, and unique perspective and our own experience of life and the world.

If you’re having one of those moments when you can’t find meaning in your life, or don’t feel that your existence has value, or you are feeling overlooked, ignored, disregarded – whether for a moment or a lifetime – it is within your power to change that experience! Take time to appreciate you – who you are, where you’ve come from, how far you’ve come over time. Think about times you’ve made someone laugh, or lifted them up when they were blue – how often have you been there for someone? Reflect on the moments of joy and of delight, however small; they are yours to keep and to cherish. Spending more time on those than on the things you’re irked by is a good step forward. Reflect on the things you do well. Savor the details of some pleasant moment, however inconsequential. You are not defined by someone else’s anger, frustration, or expectations. You get to live your own life, and you are having your own experience. However disrespected you may feel by some other person, ideally you can always count on being respected by the person in the mirror. Treat yourself well, with consideration and respect. Give yourself a moment to be heard – by the person you, yourself, are. This isn’t groundbreaking new thinking, just some suggestions for lifting yourself out of a funk when you’re feeling low (because frankly sometimes people can be dicks, and it has nothing to do with whether you “deserved that” at all). Emotional lows are also part of the human experience (“deserved” or not). You are the surfer riding that wave – and you are also the water.

You know what you are not? You are not the sum of the negative opinions of other people. You are not defined by someone else’s anger, frustration, or disappointment. You’re also not the sum of the compliments you have received. Opinions are not the substance of reality. Who you are as a human being is defined by your actions, your choices, your behavior, and the quality of your relationships; and these are within your control. So… if you don’t like where you are in life, go somewhere else, or make changes (or both). Here we are, standing on the edge of an entire new year. This could be the beginning of something amazing! What will you do with your unrealized potential, and how will you choose your next steps? Where does your path lead? The menu in The Strange Diner is vast…you may have more options than you recognize in some moment of stress or sorrow.

I guess I’m just saying…don’t stand waste deep in the shit someone else flung at you telling yourself you have no choice but to stand there. You do have choices. You create meaning from what is otherwise meaningless – and this puts a lot of power to change your life into your own hands. You can defeat an emotional spiral threatening to suck you down into despair. You can walk away from conflict – or even heal the hurts that created it. You have more power than you know.

…And there’s a whole new year ahead…

It’s time to begin again. Where does your path lead? What will you do to become the person you most want to be, in 2026? Are you ready? The clock is ticking…

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Categories anger, anhedonia, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being, The Big 5, women, Words
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