Archives for category: Frustration

Inconvenient Circumstances

July 16, 2025 //

I’m sipping my coffee contemplating the busy work day ahead. I’m okay with it. I’m fortunate to have a job I enjoy. I’m grateful for that; I know too well what it feels like to be trapped in some day-to-day grind because the paycheck is necessary and the options are few. I’m sneezing, though – allergies – and not really looking forward to interacting with people all day. Another hot summer day ahead, too, and the AC in the office already sounds like it is “working too hard”, which does not bode well for comfort. Add to that, my pharmacy has still not been able to refill my Ozempic, and now I’m 3 days overdue for a shot that should be done weekly at about the same time each week. On top of simply being annoyed by that, I’m starting to “feel effects” of going without medication that does so much more than provide a little help with weightloss. This medication, for me, successfully manages my blood sugar, my blood pressure, and helps with certain consequences of my brain injury, too (which was unexpected but very much valued and at this point, relied upon). I sigh and drink my coffee – at least I’ve still got coffee in the morning, though I wonder how long that will last?

I breathe, exhale, and relax. The lack of my medication is not likely to become life-threatening (I hope), but I’m angry that the medical needs of real people matter so little, in comparison to profits, or supply chain efficiency, or systems and processes within large corporate hierarchies. (Looking your way, global pharmacy systems, and fuck you for not caring about the people you serve.) Another breath. Another slow steady exhalation. Another attempt at relaxing and letting small shit stay small. It requires practice.

I’m not in a great mood this morning, and I remind myself again (and thank my Traveling Partner for his patient reminders yesterday evening) that this abrupt change in my medication is going to affect things like mood (and mood management) and impulse control, and all sorts of seemingly unrelated “little things” that taken together don’t always feel small at all. Knowing I’ll be “dealing with people” all day, I calm myself with meditation, and a few minutes of quiet reflection on the moment and the day. Things are fine for most values of “fine”, and I’m okay in most practical senses of that word. This will pass.

I did try to arrange to have my prescription filled at a different local pharmacy within the pharmacy chain I generally use, and that looked do-able from the perspective of yesterday. This morning the pharmacy app indictes that my refill remains “delayed” with no expectation that it will be filled before tomorrow at 3 pm – an availability commitment that continues to be pushed back every day. The pharmacist said, yesterday, that they just haven’t been receiving this medication in their orders, in spite of ordering it repeatedly. “It’s not available.” (I wonder if it is the heat? It is a temperature sensitive medication, and degrades quickly once not refridgerated. We’re in the middle of summer heat that comes with a hazard warning, although it isn’t being discussed as a “heat wave”… I could see that potentially stopping shipments of some kind, but g’damn, we’re talking about fucking medication here!)

Another sigh. Another cycle of breath. Another attempt to get my mind (and mood) to move on from this irritation… my results vary. My coffee is tasty, though, and I focus on that pleasant detail, here, now. A breeze tosses the branches of the trees beyond the window, and the lush green leaves flutter and twist. Pretty. There’s a clear blue sky overhead. The morning is already warm. My head aches. My tinnitus is loud. This room is quiet, aside from the woosh of the AC in the background. Breathe, exhale, relax… repeat. I still feel bitchy and cross, and I’d really like very much to complain about… something, but I’m aware that it really could be worse, and that as things go generally it’s fine. I think of my Traveling Partner at home, probably still sleeping, and I smile to myself; just knowing he exists in the world is a thought that fills me with love and delight. I’m fortunate. Perspective.

Choose your experience; we’re live and unscripted.

We can’t necessarily change the circumstances we find ourselves in, but we can change how we react and respond to those circumstances. We can make choices that improve our experience. There’s a lot of power in that. I sit with that thought awhile. How would I respond to these circumstances if I were indeed the woman I most want to be? Can I make that happen, in these circumstances, now? What would that look like? What practices can I count on to get me there? We become what we practice.

…No AI anywhere can help you with that; you’ve got to practice the practices yourself, and do the verbs…

Practice the practices that take you closer to being the human being you most want to be.

It’s a new day. Another chance to be the woman I most want to be. Another opportunity to live well and treat others with kindness and compassion. Another day to do my best. I make a note on the notepad beside me, a reminder for later. It’s time to begin again.

Tags American greed, American medicine, begin again, breathe exhale relax, CBT for anxiety management, choose wisely, do your best, emotional self sufficiency, health, how to be your best self, life, mental-health, our healthcare system is broken, Ozempic, people over profit, perspective, practicing the practices, ptsd, supply chain failures, take it on time, taking care of me, TBI, The Art of Being, there are verbs involved, this shouldn't be about money, this too will pass, we become what we practice, what are you practicing?

Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5, weight loss secrets

On the Matter of Opinion

July 14, 2025 //

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.

Tags AI isn't helping, be considerate, be kind, begin again, critical thinking, don't be decieved, don't make excuses, drain the swamp, emotional self sufficiency, finding hope, frauds and grifters, fuck trump, life, love, manufacturing consent, media manipulation, oppose genocide, perspective, practicing the practices, ptsd, read a book, results may vary, sample size, scammers be scamming, taking care of me, The Art of Being, there are verbs involved, think critically, vote them out, we become what we practice, what is an opinion?, what matters most?, you're being lied to

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

Breathe, Exhale, Repeat

July 9, 2025 //

I missed a day of writing, yesterday. I think. Did I? I did.

I went walking on a familiar local path, yesterday, enjoying the mild summer air, thoughts on other things, and returned home to work. The work day was busy, routine, and relaxed. When I finished with work, I played a video game for a little while, enjoying that with undivided attention; the Anxious Adventurer would make dinner, as is the practice on Tuesdays. A pleasant day that passed quickly without much to say. It was a good day.

This morning I slept a little later, and hit the trail at a similar time, noticing that already the sunrise comes a little later and the days are a little shorter, as is the way with changing seasons.

As I walk, I realize I don’t recall the details of the sunrise, this morning, though I am certain I saw it. I chuckle to myself. It’s not as if my mind is on weighty matters this morning, I’m just walking and thinking, and listening to birdcalls. The weeds along the edge of the meadow are quite tall in spots left unmown. They are peculiarly dry and brown in places where herbicides have been applied, near the edge of the vineyard.

I get to a convenient picnic table, not quite halfway, and I sit down to write, which is when I notice that I didn’t write yesterday. It’s fine. It’s not like I write because I am required to do so. It’s reasonable to skip it when I’ve nothing to say, or, as was the case yesterday, I’m simply too caught up in living life, present in the moment.

I’m trying to avoid looking at the news. It’s a shit show of human cruelty, these days, and I just don’t need the stress and anxiety that comes with being immersed in endless repetitions of the same reports of people being horrible to each other, and the wealthy and powerful continuing to profit from the misery created by the current administration. It’s all pretty grotesque and I just don’t need to fill my awareness with that crap in every moment. So… I don’t.

A small squirrel approaches me hesitantly as I sit, still and quiet, meditating. It approaches close enough to place a tiny unfelt hand on my pant leg, looking into my face as I look back, before darting away. I laugh out loud with real delight. My morning is made in this one brief moment.

I hear voices, loud but distant. Farm workers in the vineyard, calling conversation or instructions to each other in Spanish. I am unavoidably reminded of the current trauma and day-to-day anxiety being experienced by America’s immigrants and migrant workforce due to constant threats of raids and fears of deportation. Sometimes I think the wealthy really deserve to experience the sudden loss of available day laborers and domestic staff that would certainly be one direct outcome of these horrible attacks on humanity, but realistically I know the amount of suffering that would be inflicted would devastate those of lesser means, who would also be affected. I smile grimly to myself, although it isn’t funny, as I wonder just who exactly these rich fuckwits think is going to take these jobs (that often pay very poorly for hard work in poor conditions) if we cut ourselves off from the immigrants and migrant workers who fill them now? Are folks ready to pay citizen workers what Americans demand (and require for a living wage) for their labor? I sure don’t think so.

… One might almost think the very wealthy want slave labor, and might not even pay minimum wage if there were no legal requirement to do so. Human greed is some ugly shit…

I sigh and watch the morning sunlight through the leaves of the oaks along the path. Human beings can be pretty terrible, and it’s quite disappointing that we haven’t yet risen above our worst characteristics as beings, though we’ve had hundreds of years to do so. Very disappointing. I frown as an off-leash dog runs past, in this “dogs must be on a leash” area. I’m sure the owner has found some crappy excuse for this, a way to justify exempting themself from the rules. This. This is why we can’t have nice things. It’s a small thing, but the small things add up until we become terrible people.

I sit thinking about that. It’s not an “other people” thing… I think about my driving. I could do better. Every day, there’s something I could be doing to be more the person I most want to be. To be a better person today than I was yesterday. The clock is always ticking on this journey of discovery, healing, and growth.

Our choices have consequences. The journey is the destination.

… It’s already time to begin again. I can do better – can’t you? Small changes over time can make big differences. Maybe we can change the world?

Tags America's original sin, be here now, be humane, be kind, begin again, breathe exhale relax, citizenship, collateral damage, critical thinking, deportation trauma, do your best, Don't be evil, ethical considerations, greed is a bad look, increase the minimum wage, job creators, meditation, migrant workforce, results may vary, self-care, strengthen social safety nets, tax billionaires, the billionaire problem, unintended consequences, we become what we practice, word games

Categories 2024 Election, Allegories, anger, Anxiety, breathe, Frustration, Healthy Living, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5, War and News of War

A Thoughtful Moment

July 3, 2025 //

There’s a storm brewing. I can see the dark gray clouds on the horizon, through the lush summer greenery of the tree just beyond the window. I think about the weather and the climate. I think about change. I think about trauma, memory, and strangely I also think about genocide.

Have you stopped to wonder, even for a moment, what the results of the collective trauma of the Palestinian people will be, those few that remain after years of genocidal attacks on that population? What about the people of Ukraine, fighting valiantly to preserve their national identity in the face of Russia’s attacks on their land, their culture, and their people? It may be worth a moment of your time to think about it. Some of these people may one day be your own neighbors. Just saying, we’re all in this together, aren’t we? All human?

I sip my coffee and watch the changing light and shadows through the tree beyond the window. I think my thoughts. 4th of July tomorrow – what are you celebrating? National identity? National pride? (Is there so much to be proud of, right now?) Freedom…? (Freedom from what, exactly?) Did you serve in the armed forces? If you did, are you still proud of your service, considering all that is going on in the world? (Were you ever?) Did you achieve something? No, I mean… really. What changed? What good have you done in the real world that is worth celebrating? (Maybe it would be sufficiently celebration-worthy to pass through this mortal life without doing any harm?) I sigh to myself. Rhetorical questions. I’ve got my own answers, and they are less than ideally satisfying. I still consider myself “a patriot” – and I am ashamed of the willful cruelty and corruption of our government, and the harms we seem so willing to deliver to our own people, and so many innocent non-combatants around the globe. How do people rationalize being so terrible to other people? So destructive? So hateful? So… stupid?

I personally find 4th of July as a national holiday fairly pointless, and the way it is celebrated, with displays of colorful ordnance and barbecue, rather wasteful. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I like a good barbecue. I just don’t personally see the value in blowing shit up (however colorful) to celebrate a military victory more than 200 years in the past, by people who have never gone to war themselves, can’t understand what they are celebrating, and apparently have no idea of the real cost in human lives and suffering of military actions. What the actual fuck? What purpose do the fireworks serve? Is the risk of igniting a wildfire actually worth it? Still, here we all are, eh? It’ll be nice to enjoy a long weekend…

…G’damn, Woman, just let people have their fun…

Yesterday evening while I was in the garden, I saw the doe who has been strolling through regularly and eating my roses and my vegetables. She calmly watched me, unbothered. I strode right up to her, lecturing her most sternly about eating my damned roses. She seemed mildly surprised, but not inclined to leave. I continued to berate her most firmly, providing clear explicit boundary-setting about my damned garden and my roses. She listened quite attentively, but did not acknowledge my points (I did not expect that she would). I threw my hands up in frustration, and raised my voice a bit “now just go, and stay out of my damned flower beds!” She darted away, paused, then strolled off into the trees, unimpressed by my ire. I’m quite certain I’ll have to have this talk with her again. lol

…Good coffee. I find myself wondering again how much longer coffee beans will be affordable to regular people…

I’m feeling a little cranky and blue, then I remember that as an individual person, I truly do have some things to celebrate on the 4th of July, and they are each “freedom” and independence related. It was 4th of July when I left my violent first marriage. It was 4th of July weekend when my Traveling Partner and I moved into our little house in Yamhill County. It was 4th of July weekend that the Anxious Adventurer arrived and moved in (one year ago), a truly helpful presence at a time when that was utterly necessary. There have probably been other milestones that fell on or near July 4th, that don’t immediately come to mind. Hell, I haven’t even always been so cranky about fireworks as I am now. lol We change as people over time, with all that we learn and experience in life. Our perspective changes. Our understanding of the world changes. Change is. I shake off my blue mood and have another sip of my coffee, noticing that a bluer bit of sky has begun to reveal itself. Promising; moments pass.

I breathe, exhale, and relax – and get ready to begin again. This path isn’t going to walk itself. 😉

Tags anti genocide, anti war, be here now, begin again, bumpersticker patriotism, celebrating independence, choose wisely, defying the god of war, free palestine, healing, identity, life, lived values, lives matter, mental-health, performative patriotism, perspective, practicing the practices, ptsd, taking care of me, The Art of Being, there are verbs involved, trauma, war and news of war, we become what we practice, what matters most?, who did you vote for?, your actions reveal your values

Categories 2024 Election, Allegories, anger, Anxiety, breathe, Free Will, Frustration, gardening, gratitude, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Roses, Summer, The Art of Being, War and News of War, Words

Sitting With the Moment

July 2, 2025 //

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.

Tags American authoritarianism, American cruelty, American disappointment, begin again, can't you do better than that?, compassion, do better, emotional self sufficiency, existential dread, life, making America great, mental-health, mindfulness, personal growth, perspective, practicing the practices, self-care, taking care of me, The Art of Being, there are verbs involved, vote, we are not the good guys, we become what we practice, what are you celebrating?, what are you practicing?, what matters most?

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

Inconvenient Circumstances

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On the Matter of Opinion

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Breathe, Exhale, Repeat

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A Thoughtful Moment

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Sitting With the Moment

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