Archives for category: Logic & Reason
« Older Entries

Sometimes “Enough” Looks Different

December 18, 2025 //
0

I’m sipping my coffee (hot, black) grateful to have it. The hot liquid feels soothing on my still-raw feeling throat, although the discomfort is no longer up high near my uvula, and is definitely showing indications of having moved into my chest instead of lingering in my sinuses. I’m still unwell, but I’m working today; there is much to do as the year winds down, and giving up on it is not an effective strategy for making more money at some future point. (I don’t much like that this matters more to me right now than my fucking health, but this is America.) The box of tissues on my desk, alongside the hand sanitizer, and me wearing a mask, gives adequate caution to others that keeping their distance is a good choice.

My Traveling Partner woke me this morning, early, checking whether I was okay. I mumbled something about being okay, because for most values of “okay” I surely was. I was dead asleep when his voice roused me, but having wakened and seeing it was nearly time to begin a normal work day, I went ahead and got up, dressed, and left for the co-work space I typically use when the university library is not open. There was no traffic at all, but it was also too early to get coffee on the way. It was fine. I was awake, and the rainy drive was much improved by how little traffic there was.

None of this really “matters“, it’s just the set up for the punchline to a joke that isn’t actually funny. I let that go. I’m grateful that I feel well enough to face a work day, honestly. I’m grateful for the hot coffee that was available when I got to the office. I’m grateful for the instant chicken soup which proves to be far more satisfying than the coffee. I’m grateful for a few quiet minutes alone with my thoughts before this co-work space fills with other co-working professionals, and grateful for a desk that puts considerable distance between me and others. I’m grateful for my Traveling Partner, who does so much to care for me when I’m not well. I’m okay for most values of “okay” now, and I definitely feel better than I did yesterday, in spite of the cough I’ve now developed, that will likely linger for days or even weeks after I’m fully over whatever ick took me down in the first place.

…I can’t say I feel much like working, there’s just a lot to do…

I savor the hot too-salty flavorful instant chicken soup. There’s an intense comfort to it when I feel this way. It’s enough to satisfy what limited appetite I’ve got, and enough to genuinely “make me feel better”, every bit as much as the cold remedies I also took. Funny how “enough” changes with the circumstances, eh? On a beautiful summer morning, on some beach or forested trail, there’s little chance this off-brand cheap poor quality instant chicken soup would be at all satisfying, but here, now? It’s definitely enough and I’m grateful to have it. That brings my thoughts to the Giftmas holiday ahead. I think over the unwrapped gifts stacked in an out of the way spot needing to be wrapped and placed under the tree. Are they “enough”? G’damn, I sure hope so. They seem less than I’d like to be putting under the tree this year, but… this is what we had to work with for resources, and anyway, it’s more about presence than presents. I do like presents, no need to be coy about it, but it’s not “the big deal” it felt like in some years past.

I sigh to myself, eager to see the other side of the day, though it should be quite manageable and pretty chill, generally. Pain and illness color my subjective experience of work and even this one moment of quiet, solitude, and peace. It would be ease to slide into anger, frustration, or despair – I’m one bit of bad news or moment of Other People’s Drama away from it almost all the time, these days. Frankly, I’m appalled by the state of American governance, and it lurks in the background of my consciousness however often I attempt to resolve it, somehow. That is one of the “secrets” of human suffering; how often we choose it. I don’t bother with looking at the news today; the president gave another one of his rambling ill-informed misleading fatuous self-serving narcissistic vile and cruel speeches yesterday, and the news feeds will echo that slop for days to come. Fuck that shit; I’d be stupider for every word of his bullshit I allow into my consciousness. I’ll wait for any rationally fact-checked breakdown of that nonsense that may surface, but I certainly don’t want to expose my mind directly to that fuckwit’s voice. (If I’ve offended you, dear reader, my apologies. If you voted for that grifter and his corrupt clown car of cronies, I can’t say I understand your choice at all, but this is a democracy – for now – and it is your right to cast your vote as you will and endure the consequences of your choices, however ridiculous or hateful those look to me. It’s a shame so many other people get hurt along the way.)

I correct my posture, and breathe more deeply. Breathe, exhale, relax. I meditate. I make a point of crafting detailed mental imagery of myself as a woman standing in an airport, setting down baggage and walking away. I feel lighter for doing so, even though it is only an imagined moment. This is a practice that can bring real change of perspective and subjective experience. “Visualization” works as a practice, but indulged without consideration and care, it can drag one into a nasty negative spiral, too. Still a good practice, but associated (as many things are) with an inherent risk. Visualizing trauma and negative experiences or feelings can bring those much closer, rendering them in a very immediate and visceral way that can cause further damage. Visualizing positive experiences and moments (real or pure imagination) similarly renders those in a more immediate and visceral way, seeming to make them “more real”, and incorporating those feelings into our implicit “sense of being” in a truly useful way. Choose wisely.

I read an article recently that touched on the concepts of positive visualization for dealing with anger. If you’re someone who struggles with managing your temper in relationships, flaring up over small things that likely don’t rate that sort of escalated reaction, this one may be worth a read. Useful and practical, the basic idea is that imagining positive interactions, and reinforcing positive feelings about an individual, will tend to improve the relationship with the real person in real life interactions. That seems worth knowing, doesn’t it? Worth practicing? We become what we practice. It may be a poor choice to practice being angry and hateful… It seems unlikely that any of us would actually want to become angry hateful people. I sit with my thoughts awhile.

I stretch and refill my coffee. There’s an entire work day ahead to get through and much to do. It’s already time to begin again.

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories 2024 Election, Allegories, anger, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being, The Big 5, War and News of War, winter, women, Words

Use It, or Lose It

December 3, 2025 //
0

As I struggle with fatigue and distraction this morning, I think about how very many human skills and abilities are “use it or lose it”. Walking, reasoning, speaking another language, legible handwriting, cooking a recipe from memory, recalling the route to a place that isn’t visited often: all of these, and many more besides, are the kind of thing that diminish over time without continued practice. We become what we practice, and so conversely, we can expect to be far less of whatever we don’t practice. It makes logical sense, thinking about it, and more importantly experience has proved it to me directly over and over again.

How about a really simple example? I learned French from my mother as a child, Czech in military language school, and German living in Germany for more than six years. I can’t honestly claim that I actually speak any of those languages now with any fluency, at all. I don’t use them enough, and the skill has largely faded away to little more than comfortable familiarity. (Whether immersion would or would not “bring it all back” is a separate question.)

Not enough? How about this one? I write. I write something like 1500-5000 words each day, between personal and professional writing. I used to do that in pen and ink. My handwriting was very specifically my own, easily recognizable, with characteristic flourishes and embellishments developed through frequent loving practice. It was legible and at times visually “beautiful” (to me). I rarely write with a pen on paper anymore. It’s nearly all on a device or keyboard. When I do have occasion to pick up a pen to write, if only to jot down a note, my handwriting is degraded, messy, chaotic, and often completely illegible to anyone else. I don’t write by hand enough to preserve my skill.

Another deeply worrisome example is that of my late Dear Friend, whose weight and health slowly robbed her of her ability to walk, as she aged. When we met, in the mid 90’s, we would go places together as we got to know each other. We walked a lot. We camped. We attended fairs together. An injury some years later put her off her feet for awhile, and after that walking began to become more difficult. The less time she spent on her feet and walking, the more difficult it became, until it was an effort to get from her kitchen to her bedroom. Eventually, any walking at all required assistance of some kind.

Now I’ll tell you that what this is really about is all the many cognitive skills we all so carelessly put at risk every day, now, through excessive reliance on tech devices of various kinds, and… “AI”. We are very much at risk of losing our abilities to think clearly, to remember our experiences, and to socialize harmoniously in accordance with healthy behavior and within agreed upon social norms. I’d like to say maybe I’m exaggerating a bit to make a point, but that wouldn’t be true to my day-to-day experience or observation over time. I see it happening, and I’m clearly not alone; it is a common topic in the essays and thought pieces of others (many with greater relevant expertise). I think it’s something worth taking seriously.

I sigh quietly, as I stop at my halfway point on this trail. It’s still dark, and the autumn fog is thick and getting thicker. It seems a suitable metaphor for humanity allowing itself to become dumber…by choice. What a bummer of an idea. Don’t do it! Preserve your precious abilities! Practice critical thinking skills! Read an actual fucking book. Read several! Learn a new skill. (No, not how to draft a better ChatGPT prompt, that’s not as useful as you may be imagining.) Make something! Have real conversations with live human beings in real life. Walk. Daydream. Use your mind to think deeper thoughts. We become what we practice. For fucks’ sake don’t give up your mind.

…A lot of the world’s petty cruelty and actual evil only thrive because we allow it, or have become distracted. We could do better and choose differently. Don’t let your precious finite lifetime trickle away, the sand in your hourglass slowly running out while you doom scroll through AI slop you don’t even care about (or remember five minutes later). Don’t let an LLM stand in for your own capacity to think, to reason, and to understand. (Trust me, you’re better at all those things than any “AI”!)

I take time to meditate and reflect, as the first hints of daybreak begin to color the sky. I breathe, exhale, and relax. The morning is a chilly one. I’m grateful for the warm sweater I chose, and the warmth of my pockets, into which I jam my hands between paragraphs, to warm them again. We have choices. I think about mine and watch dawn becoming a new day. Later I’ll take the truck over to the dealership for a bit of work, and begin my work day there, in the waiting lobby of the service department. After that? I’ll begin again, again, and I’ll keep choosing, and practicing.

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Allegories, art and the artist, autumn, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, The Art of Being, Words

Camera Settings (it’s a metaphor)

November 30, 2025 //
0

I’m at the trailhead, waiting for the sun. I could walk in the predawn darkness, but this morning I choose to wait for a bit of light. Daybreak comes, and I sit with my thoughts a few minutes longer.

One morning, one moment, unique and brief.

I am thinking about how differently two individuals (any two) can view the same set of circumstances (any circumstances) or even a shared experience. We are each having our own experience. We each view the world through the lens of our own perspective, further altered by the filters of our expectations and past experiences. As with cameras, the differences in our “equipment” (our education, our economic situation, our individual values) make some difference, too, but our “camera settings” – the choices we make, how skillfully we adapt to new information, our critical thinking skills and willingness to apply those – often matter more. A lot more. An affluent person with a great degree who comes from “a good family” can still be a heartless dumbass carelessly wrecking other lives, which is to say, rather obviously, that the photographer matters more, to a point, than the camera does.

When we view the world, or even some brief moment, we bring our baggage with us. We see the world through the lens and filters of our individual experiences and understanding, making us prone to some pretty fucked up errors in thinking. You do, I promise you. I do, too. They do. We do. There are no exemptions and there is no escape. We can only do our individual best with that shit, making a point to be kind, considerate, thoughtful, and reasonable. We can make a point to listen deeply – a whole other huge endeavor that requires learning and practice (and is super worthwhile). We can ask clarifying questions – and hear (and accept) the answers. We can assume positive intent, and understand that generally speaking, most people are doing their everyday best, or think they are, without any desire to cause harm. We can refrain from taking shit personally (it mostly just isn’t). None of this is “easy”, at least not at first, but it can all be done willfully and with practice it becomes pretty natural.

It’s on my mind this morning because I’m human. I’m prone to seeing the world through my own eyes and overlooking how many other potentially also quite valid perspectives there are, which others may hold. There is often more than one “right answer” to life’s questions. Acceptable behavior is very context dependent. Two photographers at the same location, taking a picture of the same bird, will get two different pictures. It’s the same bird. Neither picture could be described as “wrong” or “incorrect”, they are pictures of some real, lived, moment. (Let’s leave AI images out of this discussion entirely, since delusions are their own thing, related but not what I’m going on about this morning.) The point I’m making is that for practical, cognitive, and contextual reasons, we really are each having our own experience.

It’s pointless to argue that someone’s feelings in some moment are “incorrect”; emotion is very subjective. It is unhelpful to reject someone’s understanding of circumstances, even in those instances when it seems obvious they’ve gotten some fact wrong. Most people cling to their own subjective flawed understanding of the world, even when provided with facts to the contrary. Human primates are limited that way. Yelling other information at a human primate trying to force a shared perspective doesn’t generally work very well, either. Even if you were to pass your camera over to another photographer, position them precisely where you stood to “see things from your perspective”, they would still get a different picture of the scene.

I don’t have an easy solution to offer on the many ways our individual perspectives complicate our interactions with other individuals. Communication is a lot of work. Building community and nurturing healthy relationships is a lot of work. People often don’t listen to each other, and when they do they often don’t accept what they hear (or don’t make good use of the information). People are emotional creatures who persist in trying to put reason and logic in charge, in spite of clear evidence that emotion arrives to every party before intellect does.

I guess one path forward is maybe practice those listening skills. Gratitude, kindness, and consideration are great steps on a path to “common decency”, too. Accepting that your way (or opinion, or choice of religion) is not the only way, is a stepping stone further on the path. Hell, your way – the path you choose – may not even be the best way. You don’t know enough as one human primate to make that determination; it’s a big world and the menu of The Strange Diner has a lot of options. There is a lot to learn and experience in life.

Tis the season

I sigh to myself, thinking about recent days and moments of conflict or stress. Looking back it often seems so obvious what different choices could have been made in the moment with better results. I focus my attention on my own behavior; it’s the part I can control, myself. I practice letting go of lingering hurt feelings, reframing experiences through a different lens, and examining my “filters” for fallacies and thinking errors. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I improve my perspective and my understanding through self-reflection. I practice the practices that have helped bring me so far, already. Non-attachment. Gratitude. Meditation. Letting small shit stay small. Savoring small wins and simple joys, and giving disappointment, resentment, and anger less room to live in my head.

Practice is more than a word. Practice is a verb. “Do the verbs”, I remind myself.

The sun rises. The day begins. I see my path stretching forward, between the oaks and along the meadow’s edge. I’ve got my camera, and it’s time to begin again.

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, joy, Logic & Reason, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, The Art of Being, The Big 5, Words

Are You Becoming a Bot, Bruh?

November 24, 2025 //
0

I don’t use AI in my writing. Not here. Not at all. These are my human words (spelling errors, excessive use of ellipses and all). I write what I write, from the contents of my own actual thoughts. Sometimes I am inspired by my environment, or my experience, or my past, or something I saw or heard, or a video I watched, which is the case right now.

Is ChatGPT turning everyone into bots? This video answers that question “yes”. You may want to watch this and think about your own position on using LLMs like ChatGPT. Are you undermining your ability to write, think, reason, make decisions, or simple be? I watched this video – then I watched it again. I’m grateful for the discernment to be exceedingly skeptical of the value in these tools that have become so readily available. There’s a longer video on this theme that is worth watching, if you are seeking clarity regarding what these LLMs are actually capable of.

The tl;dr from my perspective? I use GPTs and LLMs in the context of my professional work, and only do so reluctantly (and in a very limited way) due to obvious issues with inaccuracy and bogus citations (but it is a requirement for some elements of the work I currently do). I keep it to a minimum and approach every reluctant use with a stern critical eye, vigilant and wary, doing my best to detect every error, every lie, every misleading bit of bullshit. Trusting an “AI” (it isn’t intelligent) or LLM is like trusting MadLibs. lol Don’t do that. Definitely don’t worship the fucking things, or seek love from them. They’re bots. They don’t (and can’t) think, feel, reason, or demonstrate actual judgement. It’s just software, not an independent consciousness.

… It’s not even clear that the designers and developers are reliably decent human beings who are committed to bettering the world for everyone…

Don’t let ChatGPT (or any other LLM) steal your humanity from you! You’re better than that – even if your spelling is poor, and you’re not sure what to say in that email (or conversation). Do your best – it’ll be better than a bot! Be human with your whole self. Be present. Be aware. Feel and experience each moment of your life – it’s already ridiculously brief and quite finite. Don’t let a bot steal what little there is. You can choose differently. It’s probably for the best that you not take life advice from software that has never, and will never, live. (And maybe don’t be so trusting that billionaires seeking still more wealth and power are going to give you free stuff or look after your interests “out of the goodness of their hearts”, without something in it for them personally.)

Your choices matter.

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Allegories, anger, Art, art and the artist, Free Will, inspiration, Logic & Reason, loneliness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Practices, The Art of Being, Words

Like a Pimple

November 20, 2025 //
0

Sometimes small things get large, or at least feel larger than reasonable. Sometimes that experience is a reflection of lost perspective. Sometimes it is about many small things piling up. Keeping small things small is a smart choice, but sometimes it sounds easier than it seems to be in practice.

I sigh to myself from the parking lot of the co-work space I sometimes use. It’s an hour away from home. Some idiot person who didn’t know better locked the deadbolt on the front door of the co-work space, which uses an app to control access. The locked deadbolt is not necessary for security, and being locked it prevents the app from unlocking the door. Shit. I’m more annoyed by this than I want to be.

Most mornings I could shrug this off as a mild inconvenience, but today I had planned on an early start, have calls scheduled earlier than usual, and a late evening request from an upstream colleague last night to look into something “first thing”. Fuuuuuuuck. I would have shifted gears and gotten set up at the Starbucks across the parking lot for the price of a terrible coffee… but they’re closed. So I’m sitting in my car, an eye on Slack to see if the co-work management gets back to me about the locked door. This is not the first time I’ve had to deal with this; it happened once last year, when the cleaning contractor changed. Apparently, it happened yesterday, too, although I wasn’t here and that didn’t affect me.

… I don’t need to be this irritated…

I’d be less annoyed if there were anywhere at all to sit, near the locked door. There isn’t. I’d also be less annoyed, probably, if I hadn’t come here to work with specific plans in mind that have timing details. I sigh again and try my damnedest to let it go. Adapt. Bounce back. Pivot to plan B.

My head aches. My chest is tight. I feel deeply anxious and as if I am having difficulty breathing “enough”. It’s stress. I breathe, exhale, and relax, and focus on my breath. I keep at it until I feel less like smashing things with a hammer and more just quietly aggravated. This situation isn’t personal, at all.

Small shit adds up and it can create big stress. Yesterday, just as my work day ended, I got an unexpected call on my work number from an ex, which I ended before any conversation could develop. I was still triggered, and as a result I was tense and hyper vigilant through the evening, and my sleep was restless and disturbed. Yuck. Traffic this morning was awful and I hit most of the lights red. The coffee place I prefer was closed; their opener didn’t show up. Everything (and I do mean everything) seems more expensive these days, and that manages to stress me out in spite my attempts to put it in perspective. Small shit, adding up.

Daybreak comes as I sit in the car, thinking about what to do next to deal with the random stressful bullshit that doesn’t involve violence. I would have, anyway, so I take time to meditate.

… Fuck this shit, I am so g’damned annoyed right now…

The receptionist doesn’t come in until 09:00… I definitely need planned to get started earlier than that.

Shit. I’ll just have to begin again…

An unexpected ping from another co-work colleague gets me the code to a side door, and my day restarts from a new perspective on timing. There are changes to be made – aren’t there often changes to cope with? I sigh and try to be kind to myself. I am the person I am, with the baggage and odd wiring that make me who I am. It’s mostly pretty okay. Sometimes it’s challenging. Beginning again helps when things skitter sideways and my plan breaks down. I do my best – mostly that’s enough. I remind myself to breathe and slow down, as I move on.

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Allegories, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, Frustration, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, The Art of Being, The Big 5
« Older Entries