Archives for category: Logic & Reason

There are numbers, and the calculations of getting on in life, everywhere. We apply our personal decision-making calculus all day long. Merge before or after that car in the adjacent lane? Buy boneless skinless chicken breasts, or cheaper chicken thighs? Have a sweet treat while also trying to limit sugar consumption? Vacuum today or on the weekend? Commute to a more distant co-work space or work from the local library – or at home? Maybe you don’t think of these as any sort of “math problem”, but aren’t they?

I’m standing at the door outside the “more distant co-work space”, waiting for the next member to arrive. I am locked out. The door code was reset, and because my membership tier changed with my change in employer, I would have had to have been added manually, which I was told Monday was done – or being done, or going to be done. It hasn’t been done. 😆 This throws off the timing of my day, considerably, although there is no expectation by my boss that I’d be in so early. It’s lovely quiet time that I find very productive. I miscalculated.

There is more commonplace math in my day, today, too. It is payday. Time to update the budget and see to the bills and expenses. I can honestly say math is not my favorite endeavor, but it is also true that it has “paid my way”, job after job, decision after decision, payday after payday. Fighting it is fairly stupid and I wish I had been willing to embrace it more studiously, sooner.

… There is no chair or convenient place to sit while I wait. My feet are already beginning to ache standing here. The hallway by the door is sheltered from weather, and I’m appreciative of that fact, but it is also too warm in here. I sigh quietly and pace back and forth while I write. I try to stifle my impatience, the only cost to me is a bit of discomfort, and a few lost minutes… Minutes feel so precious, though. I remind myself gently not to get hung up on time and timing. Not for this, for sure.

The calculus of a locked door plus a ticking clock.

… What I wouldn’t give for a fucking chair right now… We are often willing to pay a price to avoid inconvenience. 😂

Amusingly, it is easier to work as I stand here, than not to. I only lose the minutes I give up willingly, in that sense. It less convenient, surely, and slower, but most of my work tools are browser or app based, and I have them available on my “phone” (I rarely use this device for phone calls at all, but it’s handy to have a tiny computer in my pocket everywhere I go).

I chuckle to myself as I calculate the relative value of giving up, coming back at 09:00, and grabbing a seat at the cafe on the other side of the parking lot in the meantime… faster WiFi than here in this hallway, and I’d be off my feet… but I dislike having to waste time setting up my workstation more than once…

I sigh. I sip my coffee. I breathe, exhale, and relax… it’s as good a spot as any to meditate. I get as comfortable as I can on the floor, and begin again.

Freedom is a funny thing. It only works when everyone has it – and by “everyone” I mean actual people, not corporations or PACs, or governments. But… that freedom doesn’t shield anyone from the consequences of their own dishonesty, or cruelty, or foolishness. It’s a safeguard against oppression, not a permission slip to be a jackass. You’re expected to pay for your own ticket on that ride.

I’m proud of the actors, creatives, and professionals taking a stand in favor of freedom of speech alongside Jane Fonda, as she relaunches the Committee for the First Amendment . I’m proud to share that commitment. Freedom of speech is one of our most important freedoms as individuals. Seeing it being broadly attacked, even to the point of soldiers deployed to US cities is horrific.

I strongly object to the government deploying troops against our own citizens (especially knowing it’s solely due to our current president’s petty hurt feelings over people not liking him, and disapproval of his terrible policies).

You know what else I object to? Genocide, and our government’s refusal to acknowledge it or make any effective move to stop it when it is committed by a nation viewed as an ally.

I also object to policy-making that undermines access to affordable healthcare, and the inequities in healthcare for women.

I object to unqualified cronies being elevated to leadership roles in government agencies, and I object to loyalty tests as criteria for employment.

I object to allowing billionaires to make decisions about government agencies that also happen to control the purse strings on contracts that benefit said billionaires.  Ethical conflicts of interest are a known problem, and I object to the crassness of our government looking the other way while the already-rich funnel taxpayer funds into their personal piggybanks.

Freedom of speech means I can share my opinion, right here, “out loud”, anytime. Freedom of speech means that the government, specifically, can’t silence me.

Speak truth to power. It matters. Um, yeah… but also? Maybe don’t go carelessly into cities being patrolled by armed troops ill-qualified for the job of keeping peace? Take care of yourself. It’s no mistake that this administration has rebranded the DoD as the Department of War, and has been aggressively seeking to drive out any service members of any rank that may be inclined to question obscene violence and acts of oppression against citizens. These are scary times. Stay safe – but not silent.

It was dark this morning, when I reached the trailhead. Foggy, too. A dense mist filled the parking lot and created a spooky scene.

Starting down the path before daybreak.

I quickly passed through the oaks on the illuminated stretch of paved trail, into the darkness. I walked with my thoughts, until I reached my halfway point. I sat and wrote, dark words, for dark times. I remember when the Berlin Wall came down… that feeling of hope, the feeling of a new world, of the end of the cold war. I’m disappointed, now., and sometimes frightened by where we appear to be heading.

Daybreak arrives shyly. The foggy morning keeps things dim, and gloomy looking. I try not to let it soak into my mood. It’s a work day. On the other side, a weekend. I inhale deeply, tasting the scents of autumn. Tuna casserole tonight? I smile at the thought of such a simple meal, wholesome, comfortable, familiar…easy. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I inhale, recollecting small moments of joy. I exhale, and let go of bullshit I can’t change. I relax, and bring myself back to this moment, surrounded by shadows and the blue gray of the fog as a new day dawns.

It’s a good time to take a stand for the things you believe in. It’s a good time to begin again.

Chilly Monday morning. There is a faint veil of autumn mist clinging to the trees along the riverbank, and above the meadow grass. The vineyard is still a dark smudge across my view, in the predawn gloom. Daybreak arrives quietly. Hard to believe it is a Monday.

I walked the trail on this chilly morning, hands jammed into my pockets for warmth, admitting to myself the whole way that I should have worn my fleece. I feel fall coming. The morning sky is gray and cloudy to the west. The eastern horizon shows off a bit of orange as the sun rises. I stop at my halfway point to enjoy the moment, and write a bit with cold fingers, grateful that I thought to jam a handful of tissues into my pocket as I left the house this morning; I’ve already used them up.

I watched this video over the weekend. Timely. I recommend it.

I sit thinking about some incredibly worthy ideas I have embraced over the past year or two (or three, or five, i don’t know, the time passes quickly). Amor Fati. Vita Contemplativa. Ichi-go Ichi-e. Along with accepting impermanence, and practicing non-attachment, these ideas (paths? practices?) have been useful perspective-changing and have served to deepen my engagement with, and presence in, my own experience every day.

… I make more time to read books and waste less time pointlessly scrolling.

… I make more room to listen to my own thoughts and be comfortably alone with myself.

… I make enjoying each moment a practice of its own, and allow myself to savor small joys such that they linger in my recollection.

… I make my lived experience my focus more of the time, present in the moment, and recognize how finite and precious this mortal lifetime is, without grieving its brevity.

… I face change more comfortably.

Seems worth it. That’s a lot of value out of a handful of ideas. There are verbs involved. Choices. Curiosity. Study. Each moment and each day, I choose the path I walk. You do too. What will your legacy be? What memories will you leave behind? Will you be considered fondly when you are remembered, or an unpleasant footnote in someone’s memory of old hurts? Choose. Then choose again. Every day, you have the power to choose to be the person you most want to be.

… Choose wisely…

…Who are you now? Are you your ideal of who you could be? Are you letting yourself down? What could you choose differently to become more that person you most want to be? I sit with the questions as dawn becomes day… And then I begin again.

New job, first day, and all of that went well yesterday. My headache was a 12 on a 1 – 10 scale as I headed home, and I did my best not to allow it to vex me. I was grateful it was a Tuesday – by longstanding practice, it is the Anxious Adventurer’s night to cook, which means less work (for me) and tasty tacos (generally).

… Turned out to be less than ideally easy to get to that moment…

My brain was exhausted when I got home, and the headache was kicking my ass. A shower might help, I’d thought, but no, it didn’t. I took additional pain medication and settled into a darkened room to meditate and hopefully ease my pain and maybe recover some cognitive energy to get through the evening on…

My Traveling Partner alerted me that he was facing unexpected difficulties and excessive time required in a project to do with server maintenance on our home network. My many many (hundreds of) gigabytes of images were…so many. Too many. Backups of copies of duplicates of old drive contents and folders of images I didn’t want to lose were carefully saved – and in several cases nested within each other, multiple times by several names – a byproduct of every tense OS upgrade, or computer replacement over time (for decades), and worse still, it was also all partially backed up as zip files from my old Google Photos app or on a cloud storage platform. Fuuuuuuuck. So many copies…of copies.

…Can I please do something with that fucking mess?!...

Yeah. I was annoyed and aggravated and frustrated to tears by the impatience and irritation in the otherwise entirely reasonable request. I’d even been working on it, piecemeal, much of the past year on and off, whenever I had a spare minute, was also thinking about it, and happened to be on my computer… But I hadn’t finished the important part (deleting the old copies) – I was pretty spectacularly busy with working for a living, caregiving an injured partner, running errands and keeping up the housework, and trying to stave off exhaustion as much as I could while managing chronic pain.

In an instant I felt unappreciated and disrespected – and invisible. I cried the entire time I pushed myself through the steps of reviewing each folder, feeling angry and unsupported. I wept frustrated tears while I deleted folder after folder, fingers crossed that I would not delete the sole copy of some image that has lasting value for me. I managed to finish the work needed in about an hour of mostly focused time, distracted only by my own tears and my Traveling Partner’s continued pings, messaging me continuing to explain why finishing this project matters to him in this moment and more generally, and checking on my progress. Unhelpful for me in the moment (trying to focus and work with a headache), but I recognized his desire to feel heard, and to reconnect and resolve painful emotions. I did my best.

… G’damn that fucking headache though, and not one fucking word of sympathy or care from anyone, which caused hurt feelings that lingered for a while in the background. I was silently mired in a very “fuck all of you” sort of place for a little while before I was able to let it go. Humans being human. I’m fairly certain everyone in the house was doing their best, but…as is often the case, it didn’t feel “good enough”. Our results vary, and as human primates we can expect a certain amount of bullshit and drama to be part of the experience. I chose to let small shit stay small and move on from it without doing anything more to address the circumstances directly.

A new day, a new chance to begin again.

Funny thing, this morning none of that mess is important or relevant at all. My tinnitus is loud in my ears, but my headache is an inconsequential 2 on a 1 – 10 scale. My Traveling Partner was awake when I left the house and seemed to be fairly merry as he kissed me goodbye for the day. It was a pleasant parting and I’m eager to return home at the end of the work day without resentment or ire. Resilience for the win. I’ve worked years to get to this place. I’m grateful that a momentary upset no longer sends me spiraling into chaos, futility, and despair that lingers for days or weeks.

I walked the local trail with my thoughts, enjoying the dawn. It’s a new day. It even feels good to have finished a project that had been stalled (and was seriously taking too long). I breathe, exhale, and relax. I can feel the reduction in the chaos in my life, having cleaned up my files. Funny how that works (for me). I’m grateful to my Traveling Partner for taking such skillful care of our network, and for making it clear that my failure to complete a project I’d started more than a year ago was holding up progress. I’m grateful that his own resilience allows him to bounce back from a tense or angry moment, too. I’m grateful that I never fear violence as a potential byproduct of his anger – he’s not that person.

I watch the sunrise contentedly from my halfway point. It’s a new day, a new moment. I’m okay for most values of okay, and there is no anger in my heart. It’s a fresh start – and time to begin again.

I’m sipping water, and getting my boots on, preparing for the morning hike. It’s a gray cloudy morning, cooler than originally forecasted. I’m okay with that, but as I dig through my gear bin in the back of the car for my fleece, I wonder if I should have worn a sweater?

A new day, full of potential.

I step down the trail contentedly. Later this morning I’ll meet with a former colleague (who is also a friend) to discuss a job offer. I’m grateful for the opportunity, and feel fortunate that it is coming so soon…but, in practical terms, it’s not 100% of everything I was hoping for. It’s not a bad offer. It’s not in any way unreasonable. It is in every way an excellent offer and one that should meet all my practical needs and even get me ahead a bit, although perhaps more slowly than I’d ideally like. The salary is a small step back (very small). Here’s the thing though; it’s still quite outstanding. I’m not even bitching, and I expect to accept… I’m just saying it’s an imperfect world and circumstances don’t always go along with our plans, dreams, or expectations. That’s just real.

I’m grateful for the practical wisdom of my Traveling Partner. I likely wouldn’t be where I am without having had the benefit of his insights, wise counsel, and thoughtful perspective. I’ll head to this meeting later able to act from a position of strength. Feels good.

… Funny thing about this perception of “taking a small step back” – in some ways it is an illusion. This illusion is built on the foundation of my expectations and assumptions (about the world, about my worth, about the economy, about the job market, about “have to” vs “want to”…) and mostly isn’t at all relevant to my success in life or my decision making process, until I make it relevant by clinging to those (potentially wildly unrealistic) expectations and assumptions.  Quite a few folks leaving college with their freshly printed degrees fall into this trap.

… There are no shortcuts, not really, and you will have to do the work required, yourself. Your results may vary…

I get to the halfway point on my hike still thinking about jobs, the value of a human life, and the obstacles we place in our own way, time and again, in the form of expectations or assumptions. I remember, when I was first beginning to think seriously about my adult future and what that might look like, I seriously expected to build a career somewhere that would begin when I left high school and end when I eventually retired, well-prepared for leisure living until the eventual end of my life. I didn’t actually see many examples of that scenario playing out in my life among the adults around me, it was merely what I expected, not really knowing how much the world was already changing. TV shows I watched at the time definitely pictured a very different world than I would find when I reached adulthood. lol

I have had friends and associates who invested a lot of time and emotional energy into bitching bitterly about the world not being what they felt was promised (been there myself), but there aren’t any guarantees offered. No assurances regarding what the future may hold, at least none with legitimate practical value. We experience the journey we create through our choices, and framed by our perspective on things. We don’t know what we don’t know. We walk our own path, paved with our own choices. (And let’s not overlook that actual monsters in our midst whose laser focus on personal gain to the clear predictable detriment to those around them do also exist.) There’s an enormous amount of luck involved, and it’s hard to argue otherwise. Our results vary, as do our circumstances. Messy. It’s probably a poor choice to lock oneself into one very specific unique potential experience and snarl at the world that nothing else will do. That’s a very limiting approach to take. There are other options.

Success is not a given. The future is not written, and most of us are just making things up as we go. That’s okay; the journey is the destination, and the success of it is determined by the quality of the lived experience in a wholly subjective way. I can choose whether to accept or decline a job offer. I am the one who will fill the role and have the experience; I define the success. For me, the big wins are to live well, choose wisely, and enjoy the journey.

I breathe, exhale, and relax, watching the sky continue to lighten as dawn becomes a new day. I got started early, and there’s no hurry. I sit thoughtfully in this quiet summer meadow, reminding myself to make notes about various benefits and such other details as will matter, beyond salary. The details matter.

A little brown bird stops on an oak branch very near me and chirps loudly before singing a little scrap of her song. I am pulled back to this “now” moment right here, suddenly aware that I may as well be behind a fucking desk already; I’m not fully “present”, here, now. I laugh and the little bird looks at me quizzically. I take a deep breath and exhale slowly. I pay attention to the softness of the morning air, and the scents of summer. A doe with two fawns, already losing their spots, ambles by unconcerned about me, here on this log. Overhead a layer of low dense gray clouds slowly drifts westward. The air smells like it might rain.

I get to my feet, and brush bits of bark and grass from my jeans. It’s time to walk on, to embrace a new experience filled with new potential. The map is not the world. The plan is not the experience. The brochure is not a guarantee, and the advertising is not the truth. Hmph. It’s easy to say what an experience is not. In more positive terms what is it, though? I chuckle to myself as I pick up my cane and look down the trail. What is it? It’s time to begin again.