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Something, Something, Love

February 2, 2025 //
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Daybreak comes earlier as Spring approaches. Soon my early morning walks will bring me face to face with the sunrise, but that’s not yet. No need to wait for the sun, though, I have enough light to see the trail.

Cloudy winter morning just before dawn.

As the hints of blue sky are covered by incoming clouds, I lace up my boots. I’ve got the trail alone again this morning. I breathe the cold air, grateful for breath. It’s no small thing to be able to breathe easily, and worth a moment of gratitude.

This morning I am thinking about love. I consider, fondly, this partnership I have, now, and the journey getting here to this place in life. My heart is filled with love songs and enthusiasm. I’m grateful to know love at all – that doesn’t happen for everyone, and I was definitely late to that party! In 1995, I was still confusing lust and love, and it was obvious in my decision making. My heart was full of rage and pain, my head was a mess of chaos and damage. I wasn’t ready for love, at all. It would be many years before I would be.

“Face of Gods: Lust” acrylic mixed media, with ceramic & broken glass, on canvas  10″ x 10″, 2005

In fact, after some peculiar facsimiles of love, over various relationships and several years, it was 2010 before I actually found myself wrapped in love (and confusing it for lust), and another year or so before I began to truly recognize the difference and begin to understand what love demands (and needs to thrive), and I’m still learning.

“Communion” acrylic on canvas with ceramic details, 24″x36″ 2011

This too, is a journey.

The lines between love and lust can be blurry, but there’s no mistaking one for the other. When lust cools, and it sometimes will, love stands fast, unconcerned with such trivia. I walked with my thoughts and love songs in my heart. Nice morning for it. I feel fortunate and grateful to share the journey with my Traveling Partner. Fortunate to love like we do, and fortunate to burn (still) with lust’s fire for this human being I love so well. It’s a potent emotional cocktail.

I laugh to myself remembering a certain friend who had suggested at the time that perhaps this man (who would become my beloved Traveling Partner) was “just using” me… I remember my reply. “If he is? Worth it.” Possibly one of the most true things I’ve ever said. lol I’m grateful (and fortunate) to enjoy loving and being loved. Is there a price to be paid? Sure, isn’t there always? But at least in my own life, the price I’ve paid for lust has been paid in cash and pain, and paid in the damage done and the risk to my safety and sanity, where the price I’ve paid for love has been paid in the coin of a very different realm. I have had to learn to be “better than I am”, and learn to treat my Partner’s heart well. It’s been difficult and demanding. I am better for it, a thousand times over.

Love songs and gratitude are a nice way to start a morning. I smile while I walk, still smiling when I stop to write these few words. Love has made me work so much harder than lust ever would, but it has been so worth it. With a heart full of love, and an eye on the sunrise, I begin again.

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Categories Allegories, art and the artist, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, inspiration, joy, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, The Art of Being, The Big 5, winter

Easy for You to Say!

January 31, 2025 //
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I slept so deeply last night that I overslept my artificial sunrise by 11 minutes. Usually, I wake up at the first hint of dim light, or slightly before that time entirely. It’s rare to be awakened by the full brightness of the light in the room, and rarer still to “oversleep”. I woke disoriented and groggy, uncertain why the lights were on “so bright” (or at all) “in the middle of the night”? I looked at the time I’d set the alarm for (04:30 a.m.) puzzled. Why were the lights on at 04:41? Was it day? Night? Why was I awake? Did my Traveling Partner need me? Confused and stupid, I turned the light off before realizing that indeed, 4:41 is a later time in the morning than I’d set the alarm for (and usually get up). I sighed quietly, and turned the light back on, dimly. Fucking hell, it felt so early, and I felt so stupid. lol I pushed myself through my routine, still feeling puzzled that it was a new day. I think I could have slept longer, but I’ve no idea why.

The time is…now.

Eventually the morning leads me to the office, and here I am. Thinking about success and failure. Thinking about “getting shit done”, and what it takes to solve problems in life, handle stress, “deal with bullshit”, face change… and I write about these sorts of things quite a lot, and generally in what I hope is a positive and encouraging way (most of the time). I probably make it sound far easier than it is (even for me). There is real work involved in positivity, and in encouraging oneself – it’s not a “fake it til you make it” sort of thing for me; authenticity matters, too. I keep practicing. We become what we practice. I sit here with my coffee considering my failures in life. Those times when I failed to achieve a goal, sure, but also those times when I just wasn’t up to dealing with some circumstance or another properly, and let shit get by far worse because of my own bullshit and baggage and inability to adult successfully in the moment. That shit is real. As real for me as it is for anyone. We’re all walking our own hard mile.

Please don’t understand my encouraging tone or positivity as any kind of indication that this shit is “easy” in life. Sometimes things are hard. Sometimes “doing my best” isn’t good enough. Sometimes I just can’t – and don’t, although I definitely needed to. I’m human. I’m here encouraging myself just as much as I may seem to be encouraging you – and I guess I’m saying, sometimes you’ll still fail yourself (maybe unexpectedly) in some moment that you really meant to do better or more – and that’s very human. Shit gets too real, sometimes. When I fail, I begin again. I say it often, because I often need that reminder. Maybe you will, too. That’s okay. It is a lifetime journey, and the journey itself is the destination. No “do overs” really, but you do get a fresh start with every sunrise, and sometimes that has to be enough. (It usually is, actually.)

No, this thing called life isn’t “easy” (not for most of us, anyway). It’s worthwhile, though, and that counts for a lot. I sip my coffee and give myself a few minutes of quiet time to reflect. Things are going pretty well, generally, these days. It’s not a given that such will “always” be the case – change is. This too will pass – whatever “this” may happen to be. I breathe, exhale, and relax.

…It’s time to begin again. I wonder where this path leads?

We choose our path, our words, our actions.
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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Practices, The Art of Being, winter, Words

What a Terrible App

January 30, 2025 //
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How often do I say that, lately? Seems like a lot… I am reminded that the “enshittification” of the internet is a real thing, and not just “the internet”, but a lot of services, apps, media, seach tools, and things that rely on such things seem to be suffering from a very real process of degradation over time (and more so recently). I could more politely (and possibly more clearly) refer to the phenomenon as “platform decay”. From Wikipedia’s article, it is described thusly;

…the term used to describe the pattern in which online products and services decline in quality over time. Initially, vendors create high-quality offerings to attract users, then they degrade those offerings to better serve business customers, and finally degrade their services to users and business customers to maximize profits for shareholders.

Yeah. That’s a thing, for sure. Welcome to Capitalism, y’all – where we put profit over product quality, and people, in order to extract maximum “value” for a handful of already-wealthy shareholders. Gross. We could do so much better. What can I do about it? Maybe there’s real value in using some of these garbage apps a whole lot less in favor of more real-world experiences in the real world? Real life seems somewhat less prone to rapid enshittification… not entirely immune admittedly, but the odds of having a good experience seem a little better. Bound books. Pen and paper. Walks in the forest, and along the beach or marsh. Conversations with friends. I don’t know – I definitely don’t have all the answers, just some thoughts on other things to do with my time. This may be relevant. (The irony of suggesting online content is not lost on me. You could read this instead, but maybe buy it from a local book store, eh?) When was the last time you went into the world to enjoy the hunt for some specific thing in real places? I know, I know, super inconvenient, and so time-consuming! Only… It’s your life. Are you living it – or are you just scrolling through the minutes waiting to die while some app harvests the data from your likes, clicks, and views?

…I “throw the alogorithm a curve ball” and put on music I don’t usually listen to…

I smile at the thought that when I am out on the trail, the things I like are not visible to an alogrithm. When I see the world through my own eyes, my “views” aren’t recorded anywhere. When I turn my attention from one thing to another out in the world, alive, alone with myself, there are no “clicks” that can be captured – I’m just a human, being human. I enjoy that. When I pick up a book in a bookstore, and read the back cover and flip through the pages, no data is recorded about how long my eyes lingered on the words. When I share conversation with a friend or colleague, using my actual voice, in a real place, it’s ours – and there is no financial benefit to be gained for the shareholder class. I like that.

There’s a price to be paid for convenience – whether we see it coming out of our bank account or not. Are you prepared to pay that price? (Am I?) It’s something to think about. It’s the 21st century – what do you want out of your experience? What paths do you want open for your children?

I sigh to myself, and sip my coffee. Here, now, it’s just me and this moment – but I find myself yearning for a typewriter that isn’t connected to the internet, and a medium of communication that isn’t digital. Convenient for us both that we’re here, now, in this digital place… but at what cost? What price are we paying for this “convenience”? Is it worth it? I’m not monetizing this content – but you can bet someone is, in some way. (Why are we not being paid for our data? Can someone explain to me why, if it has such value, we aren’t being paid real money for the data about us being collected every day? “Basic income” isn’t a handout in the digital age; it is a potential means of compensating us for our data – maybe it’s time we took that step?)

I think again about long-time plans to publish some of this work in a more durable medium; a bound book. I smile to myself. There are verbs involved, and it’s just daydreaming until I am prepared to make a clear plan, apply the will to connect that plan to action – and do the verbs. But… what is lost if this whole thing were to come crashing down? Am I prepared to see it just… gone? I sit with my thoughts awhile longer.

…What will I do about it, when I begin again?

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Categories breathe, Free Will, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Practices, The Art of Being, winter, Words

Adulting is Hard

January 29, 2025 //
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Not gonna lie, when the email hit my inbox it kind of took my breath away, and I had a moment of panic and stress and doubt. My anxiety flared up, shouting in my head for attention. I wanted to “run away”.

We are contacting you to communicate an adjustment in the monthly rental rate…

Funny how such things are so rarely about a decrease in the rent, eh?

We do not take adjusting your rental rate lightly and understand cost increases impact you…

Yeah, I’ll bet you do. I took a deep breath and pulled out my calculator, and my calendar.

Two increases in less than six months since new management took over the storage company we lease a unit from. I took another breath, and patiently adulted through the panic. I did the math, did some comparisons, and determined quickly that we could easily do better. Instead of freaking out, I sent my Traveling Partner an email, sharing the unexpected increase in the rent on our storage unit, and providing the alternatives I’d identified. We came to a solution, made a plan, and got to work on making a needed change. Yes, it’s a lot of work to be done, but sooner on this is better than later.

…I immediately felt less stressed out…

I’ve grown. It wasn’t so long ago that something like this would have me mentally “running for cover”, terrified to face circumstances or take action. The key detail, the first step on the path, being to face circumstances, with open eyes and an open mind. We can’t make informed choices or wise changes to circumstances we try to hide from. Elementary adulting; don’t lie to yourself.

Am I happy to have to move a bunch of stuff from one storage unit to another? Not really. On the other hand, what we actually have are two storage units, and we’ll move into one much larger one for the same price, and be able to re-organize efficiently as we do so. This turns the whole annoying thing into a really choice opportunity and an improvement in convenience, and I am happy about that. Altogether a positive change, with some verbs involved. Had I let this mess go for weeks or months trying to avoid thinking about it or dealing with it, or trying to wish it away, I could have found myself lacking good options, or faced with even greater expense and massive inconvenience. I smile and sip my coffee – there’s certainly no stress over it this morning.

There’s a lesson here. Look the stressful circumstances in the face. Get out your calculator, takes some notes, do some math, think things over with consideration. Seek clarity. Be realistic and frank with yourself. Make a plan, and make a plan B. Do the needful. Adulting is hard sometimes, but avoiding the required work doesn’t make it easier at all. You’ve got this – whatever it is.

Take a breath. Begin again.

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Categories 2024 Election, Allegories, anger, Anxiety, breathe, Despair, Free Will, gratitude, inspiration, Logic & Reason, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Practices, The Art of Being, The Big 5, winter

Versions

January 27, 2025 //
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I’m sipping my coffee in the quiet of the office before dawn on a Monday morning, listening to a favorite jazz singer crooning softly in my ears. I find myself reflecting on the last time I listened to this particular woman’s voice, before “rediscovering her” recently, searching for a particular song to share with a friend going through some things. I lived a very different life at that time. Most of the music I listened to then was jazz. That realization got me thinking about the many different “versions of me” I have lived over a lifetime, through the lens of the music I listened to.

Using music to differentiate from one version of myself to another, I can see myself change over time, through career changes, addresses, partnerships, personal philosophy and points of view, economic circumstances, the books I read, the language I used, the way I painted, and even preferences in how I dressed, and who I hung out with. Change is. I’ve grown over a lifetime of choices, opportunities, and circumstances. Some of my changes have been inflicted upon me, some were choices. In some sense, I have been many women.

“Lichen II” watercolor on paper, 8″ x 10″ 1984 (painted while listening to jazz)

That woman who listened mostly to jazz lived with domestic violence, which she carefully hid from the view of colleagues. She had few friends. She was physically beautiful – as beautiful as she would ever be, but her mind was a mess. Her values and philosophy in life reflected the strained jigsaw puzzle of thinking errors and mental gymnastics needed to rationalize her experience. She lived a strange sleepless life, traumatized and anxious, and always vigilant. Music – particularly jazz – was always “a safe topic” at home. An acceptable shared pleasure. Her home was compulsively meticulously neat, always. It had to be. She was young – in her 20s – and a soldier on active duty. Respected at work, mistreated and tormented at home, she kept people at a distance, except those occasions when she “let it all go” and hit the club looking for a moment of affection in a stranger’s embrace, when circumstances permitted. It was a life of confusion, and as her mental health eroded, her substantial collection of jazz CDs increased. I listen to that music now with mixed emotions, when I listen to it at all. I find beauty in the music, and distress in the memories. I am a lifetime away from that young woman, and a very different person. I make different choices. I think different thoughts. I believe different things and understand the world differently.

I chose change many times before I ever put myself on this path. Searching for something different, and finding differences, but not wellness, contentment, or joy. For a long time I blindly chased “happiness”, finding mostly misery.

“Communion” acrylic on canvas w/ceramic details, 24″ x 36″, 2011 (painted listening to a mix of EDM tracks)

I’d found myself mired in futility long before I met my Traveling Partner. His friendship pulled me back from the brink of despair more than once, before we were ever lovers. His love was literally “life changing” – because it changed my thinking, and my choices. I’ve come so far! I smile to myself, and change the music. I’ve “changed the music” many times in this one mortal lifetime (it’s a metaphor). I’m grateful to have had that opportunity. I smile and listen to wise words in a favorite song. We can choose change. Sometimes change is forced upon us. Change is. I’m grateful for this enduring love (and partnership) along the journey.

“Siletz Bay Pink Sunrise II” pastel on pastelbord, 7″ x 9″, 2024 (painted listening to love songs)

…The journey is the destination. There is no map. If you stray from your path, begin again.

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Categories Allegories, anger, anhedonia, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, grief, inspiration, joy, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being, winter, Words
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