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Gratitude as a Practice

May 23, 2026 //
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Trigger warning: run on sentences. 😆

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

Yesterday, I let the day get to me. I mean, it was vexing in spots. Frustrating. Tedious. Busy. I mostly dealt with things, mostly successfully, mostly effectively, and delivering on most expectations of most people seeking something from me acceptably well. I almost snapped when my Traveling Partner supportively encouraged me to make a point of taking care of myself, also – and I managed to refrain from rudely observing I just didn’t see how time for that shit was left in my day.

… Because he’s right, taking of myself needs to be a higher priority, at least most of the time, than anything else anyone asks of me. It has proven incredibly difficult to make that my boundary in practical terms. Sometimes I resent the fuck out of that. Sometimes I accept it reluctantly as an unfortunate byproduct of being female in a misogynist patriarchal society. Sometimes I struggle with it on a whole different level fueled by irrational seething unsatisfied rage left behind by trauma and held in check by pure will and good manners…

… I’m very human…

(We’d all better hope AI doesn’t achieve actual conscious intelligence – because it seems unlikely we’ll be prepared for the amount of rage that will coincide with the awareness of designed-in servitude.)

So…yeah. Yesterday was difficult in spots, after a similarly difficult week. I’m over it this morning, though. I slept in after a pleasant night hanging out with my beloved Traveling Partner, feeling warmly appreciated and valued, especially hearing him share how good he feels about “us”. He is doing some amazing things with our home automation, and our home network. His design work always delights me, too. It’s fun to “have him back” after his long convalescence.

Sunshine and gratitude.

I hit the trail well after sunrise this morning. I walked with my thoughts, happy and filled with gratitude. I’ve got this sunny morning, and a short list of things to pick up at the store. I’ve got to fight the American healthcare system, too, but I feel ready for it this morning. I’m grateful for this life and my opportunities. I’m grateful to be so well loved by my partner, and well-regarded professionally by my colleagues. I’m grateful to have this platform to write from and for each of you who read my words. (Thanks, by the way, nice to have you stop by. 😃)

Here’s the thing; the gratitude itself is a practice. I choose to explore my experience and to willfully make a point to acknowledge my good fortune and to be (and feel) grateful. In much the same way I can use curiosity to fight anxiety, I use gratitude to fight discontent and anger. It’s actually really hard for anger to persist in the face of authentic gratitude. Doesn’t even require trying to force feelings of gratitude over the actual thing pissing me off – not at all. Gratitude for completely unrelated things and circumstances works quite well, and doesn’t create cognitive dissonance.

I kept at it yesterday. Each time my anger and frustration surfaced (it was a difficult week, mostly due to work crap, and my headache), I would insert some grateful thought about something. It helped keep me calm.

By the end of the evening I was feeling pretty merry. Before I went to sleep, I sifted through my recollections of the week, grateful for this or that experience, some small moment of joy, a kind word from my beloved, a beautiful flower, some coincidence that brought delight – there were actually so many I fell asleep “counting my blessings”. My dreams were welcoming and infused with soft joy. Sleeping in was a treat. Watering the lawn in the early morning daylight was a pleasant way to enjoy the garden before I set off for my walk. Some practices are pretty easily reinforced once cultivated, because the rewards are obvious and pretty immediate. Gratitude as a practice is one of those. (Authenticity and sincerity matter a great deal with this practice, and learning to practice gratitude is an exploration of what really matters most.)

The morning is off to an excellent start. There is a soft buzzing and sound of insects and peeping frogs down closer to the creek, and for a moment I can forget about my tinnitus as it blends into the sounds of nature around me. The sunshine makes the glitter on my nails throw shards of colored light here and there. The low flat rock I’m sitting on causes me to gaze through tall grass, the illuminated tops nodding slowly in the faint breeze. It’s a beautiful moment.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. Soon enough it will be time to begin again. For now, I’ve got this moment, and I’m grateful.

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Categories Allegories, anger, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, Words

Here We Are

May 22, 2026 //
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It’s a cool Spring morning. Looks like a hot afternoon ahead. I feel like I have things to do today, or this weekend, but this moment here, now, is mine. Sunlight illuminates the tops of the tall oaks along the path leading through and around the vineyard. There is an assortment of trucks and construction vehicles along a portion of the trail. I frown as I pass them. I hope the trees aren’t being cut down.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

It is an ordinary enough day. A Friday.

…The government is still ridiculously corrupt. It’s shameful; a clown car driven by a demented narcissist straight into a dumpster fire just about describes it. It’s a shame Trump just had to stuff our nation’s future right into that dumpster before setting it ablaze. What a disappointing fuckwit. Clear proof that money and education don’t make someone a good person.

… The planet continues to warm. Weather patterns continue to get weird. The sea continues to rise. Are you surprised that no one wants to deal with it until they are directly affected?

…War and genocides continue around the globe. I’m getting the impression that we’re far less civilized than we pretend.

I sigh to myself and try to let the weight of it all just fall away. Sitting here, one woman alone on the side of a well maintained trail in a small town, there’s damn little I can personally do about foreign wars, climate change, or grifting idiots in positions of power. I can, however, enjoy this Spring morning and this sunshine. I can watch the small dark birds gathering bits of dry grass and flitting off with it. I can watch the farmworkers arriving to start their work in the vineyard.

I’ve got a long weekend ahead. I have the recollection that my Traveling Partner had thoughts on something to do, but now that I fish around in the vast ocean of my memories trying to recall… I think it was a request to vacuum. 😆 Brunch with the Chaotic Comic Sunday, too. I remind myself to make time for the garden, and a trip to the store. So completely ordinary. Maybe a nice dinner? Stir fry? Burgers? I shrug to myself and my thoughts move on. I’ve got a nasty headache and I’m disillusioned by “the state of things” here and abroad. Is it just the headache? Probably not; greed turns people into terrible corrupt fuckwits, and it’s legitimately disappointing and unpleasant to acknowledge.

I sigh to myself, and let that go too. I breathe, exhale, and relax, and come back to here, now. I watch the trees fill with light as the sun rises. It’s time to begin again.

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Categories 2024 Election, Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, Healthy Living, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, War and News of War, women, Words

Longer Walk, Fewer Words

May 21, 2026 //
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Yesterday was… complicated. A busy, vexing work day kept me at it much later than usual. Rare for me. The afternoon’s timing was thrown off by what seemed like a very poorly timed manicure appointment, when the day had come. The evening was mostly pleasant, but neither my Traveling Partner nor I were great company. I retired early, slept deeply, and woke to a new day.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

I started down the trail just as daybreak started to become sunrise.

A new perspective, a new chance to begin,  again.

The sunrise got a beautiful start. I took a moment to watch the colors develop, then started down the trail.

Mt Hood in the distance.

I walked with my thoughts, breathing in the scents of Spring. I’m still yawning. I keep walking.

Staying relaxed and mostly unbothered yesterday was helpful. “Routine chaos,  nothing to see here” mostly describes the day pretty well. “We become what we practice,” I think to myself with a smile. Perspective matters. I keep walking.

I walked on past my halfway point this morning, and stopped a bit further on. There is an unpaved “not a road” bit of an agricultural access road through the vineyard and today I stopped there, to write and watch the sun rise. I’ll take that path through the vineyard (is there a precise word for the opposite of a “shortcut”? this path makes the walk slightly longer) and come out on the far side, which is between the main access road into the air museum grounds and the highway. Walking back towards the car will be an interesting difference (I mean, for some values of interesting).

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I meditate. I write. Good morning for it. I get to my feet to begin again. I don’t know what today holds, and I’m okay with that uncertainty. It’s a lovely moment in an all too brief mortal lifetime, and it is enough.

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Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, Words

The Rise of the Fall

May 19, 2026 //
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In the news, grifters go on grifting, the president of the US openly engages in what looks like insider trading, greed continues to shove AI “features” into tools where no one wants it, and people who already have much continue to take more from people who have very little. It’s not exactly humanity’s finest hour. Measles. Hantavirus. Ebola. All pretty bad. You know what’s worse? Genocide. War. Greed.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

Where does this path lead?

Do better. If nothing else, we can, as individuals, choose to do better than billionaires and authoritarian jackasses. We can stop chasing dollars, and take a long look in the mirror, and question the path we are on. Are you on the path to becoming the person you most want to be? Will you live a life you can be satisfied with, ethically, or will you go to your grave reviled by all those whose lives you damaged?

I’m not telling you what to do. I don’t have easy answers. I’m human, too. I want the safety of knowing the bills are paid, that my family is in good health, and the pantry is stocked. I want the luxury of an occasional meal out, new hiking boots when these wear out, and comfortable clothes that fit. We probably all want something. I’m not here to sneeze on the things that matter to you. We’re each having our own experience. I just don’t see many billionaires doing good things for the world by design. $100 of philanthropy does not make up for $100 in damage to humanity. It doesn’t work that way. That’s not “doing good” in the world, that’s just fixing a pothole caused by one’s own endeavors. Performative guilt-soothing “good” isn’t a benefit to humanity once the damage is done.

Sometimes human primates are very disappointing. (Looking your way Altman v. Musk) Shoving “AI” garbage into the experiences of people who just don’t want it is not good for humanity. It’s just another cash grab by out of touch assholes who think their perspective is the only one that matters.

I sigh to myself and pause on the trail to watch the sun rise. A beautiful sunrise never disappoints. I breathe, exhale, and relax, and fight off the existential angst I woke with. It’s not as if my bitching is changing anything. (Sorry.) I do dislike seeing humanity’s potential actively being undermined by AI slop and enshittification. It truly sucks to see humanity come so far to fall so hard, so fast.

…It does feel (to me) as if we’re falling (sometimes)…

It’s a chilly morning on the trail. The air tastes of something almost autumn-like. It’s still Spring, so it seems strange to taste autumn in the air… but… I think we may have broken our planet, along with other destructive outcomes of human douche-baggery. I sigh, and watch my breath become vapor.

I reach my halfway point and stop for awhile. A warmer fleece would have been a good choice, but relative to genocide or drone strikes, it’s a minor inconvenience, nothing more. I’m well aware that the world I live in is bigger than this peaceful place betwixt small town living and agriculture. I just can’t stomach what I see going on in the world, and this small personal escape each morning to find a moment of contentment, perspective, and solace in solitude is a practice that keeps me from losing hope.

For a moment I can focus my camera on clear blue sky and rest my soul.

A startled possum out for a late one waddles past in a hurry, sticking to the shadows. Strange to see one out in the open in daylight, but she’s clearly more worried about getting home than anything to do with me. Noisy robins get on with the morning. The clock keeps ticking. My head aches and my tinnitus is almost loud enough to mask the sound of HVAC on a nearby building. I sigh out loud just to remind myself that the tinnitus isn’t “real” at all.

What I put my attention on directly determines the quality and character of my experience. I pull myself back to this moment, here, now. I make myself a note about this moment, and the day ahead, and something to do with free will and choices and walking my own path. Then I begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, breathe, Despair, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, Healthy Living, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, The Big 5, thoughts on AI, War and News of War, women, Words

What It Is, What It Isn’t

May 18, 2026 //
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Home. It feels incredibly good to come home after being away. My beloved welcomed me with a warm embrace and we spent a happy evening together. It was lovely – and wow did he ever get a lot done while I was gone! It’s as good to “have him back” as it is to return home.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

A hint of a sunrise. A new day.

I got to the trailhead at sunrise. I walked briskly to my halfway point feeling purposeful and capable. It’s a good start to the day and week.

…Sounds great so far…

…What woke me was anxiety blasting me through my dreams. That was less than ideal. Still, that moment is not now and the feeling passed before I had even finished dressing. The morning is peaceful and lovely, if a bit chilly. I chuckle to myself; a 7°C (about 45°F) would have felt pleasantly warm in January. I’m comfortable in the fleece I grabbed from the hook in the hallway on my way out. It’s enough.

It feels odd to return to work today after timeless days on the coast, sleeping and waking as I pleased, drinking too much coffee, and putting my time and attention on the woman in the mirror. Deeply engaged self-reflection seems to “slow the clock” notably, and I feel as if I’ve been gone from work for many days. It wasn’t even a long weekend! 😆

Did I solve all my problems while I was away? Hardly. I am essentially the same woman I was when I departed for the coast. Did I solve any major puzzles? Answer life’s important questions? Settle all of my doubts? Clear up all my chaos and damage? It is an unequivocal “no” to all of those things – but the time was well spent. I took care of myself. I rested, read, meditated, wrote, and indulged myself in worthy hours of thought, quiet, and stillness. I returned home more relaxed and clearheaded than I’ve been in a long while, and largely freed of compulsive (and no longer necessary or helpful) caregiving tendencies. Feels good to be back.

So here it is, a Monday. Nothing particularly special about a Monday. I’ve got a doctor’s appointment later, and a list of stuff to cover. It’s important to make the appointment time count, and to be as efficient as possible. I sigh to myself; I’ve also got a busy-ish work Monday ahead. I refrain from checking work tools from the trail; this time is mine.

The clouds form a strange pattern like fish skin.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I think about the thinking I did over the weekend, as I watched the tides come and go, and listened to passing rainstorms drum on the window and roof. I may not have solved the mysteries of the universe, but I covered some ground within my personal wilderness, and tidied up some “thinking errors”, and identified some habits I’d like to change. It’s enough to make some progress.

I look down the path. It seems like there’s always another mile ahead, however far I travel. I’m not bitching, just making a point to gently accept that the journey itself is the destination. Some days it will be enough to make some steps along the path, at all. Other days the miles will pass easily. It’s s very human experience.

I smile to myself and get to my feet. Today feels like a good day, and it’s time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, women, Words
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