The sunrise was a bold assortment of hues of pink and magenta this morning, rays of color flaring from behind streaks of pink clouds edged with mauve. I watched as I drove to the trailhead.
A new day, a new perspective.
…I wish I’d slept in…
I yawned through the first half of my walk, feeling sleepy. I feel like I could easily enjoy a nap, though I slept well and deeply and woke rested this morning. Doesn’t matter, and I keep walking.
I reached my halfway point happy to pause, but wishing there were a hammock conveniently nearby. lol There is not.
I sit watching a small herd of deer crossing the meadow. They have two fawns with them. It’s that time of year, and I know I’ll be seeing the fawn that has been keeping the local doe coming back to my garden again and again. Soon they’ll move on for the summer, and my roses will get a break from being nibbled at.
4 of July. My Traveling Partner has some work he expects will keep him occupied for much of the day. I’ll busy myself with tidying up the deck for cooking, later. The groceries are on hand. No errands to run that can’t wait (none that I recall right now), just a pleasant holiday weekend ahead, available for relaxation, good food, and fun.
I sit awhile watching the new day begin, and thinking about summer times past. The things I miss most about childhood summers are fireflies, thunderstorms, and leisure time (which seemed so endless then, it is hard to imagine now). There are no fireflies in this part of the world, and thunderstorms are quite uncommon. I’m managing to get sufficient leisure time, generally, but it doesn’t feel like those endless days of summer from my childhood. I sigh to myself, grateful for the three day weekend.
A little yellow and black bird hops quite close to me and sings a little song before flying away. I don’t even try to get a picture. I already know he’s too quick for me.
I get to my feet. Another yawn. It’s already time to begin again.
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.
A view. A perspective on a moment.
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…
The doe who eats my roses.
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. 😉
I’m sipping an iced coffee and readying myself for the day ahead. I’m also browsing the pictures in the “gallery” app on my phone, and enjoying pleasant recollections of my recent day trip to the coast. I am thinking about goals and intentions, and forward momentum, and how different an object on the horizon looks compared to what I may see up close when I arrive at that destination – and how easy it can be for something along the way to distract me as I travel.
The horizon, a distant smudge. How far away is that?
I sigh out loud and rub my neck. My headache was with me when I woke this morning. It’ll probably be with me all day. Doesn’t matter, really, and there’s not much I can do about it. I breathe, exhale, and relax, and let that go.
A destination, a goal, and idea – what does it take to get there?
It’ll be another hot summer day, today. I’m okay with that. I’m grateful for the air conditioning that makes that a comfortable idea, at all. I’m fortunate to have that luxury available to me, and I sit with my gratitude for some little while, thinking about other times and places when I was not so fortunate.
Where we thought we’d like to go may be less achievable than we anticpated, or require more of us to reach than we planned. It’s okay to change our path – or to work for our goal. The choice is ours.
I feel a little tired before the day even begins, which surprises me, until I realize that there is this subtle awareness in the background of my thoughts of a world in chaos: genocides, acts of war, terrible cruelty, lives lost, lives wasted, and terrible people doing terrible things. Is my fatigue simply the unavoidable awareness wearing me down, or a sign that I am fighting that awareness too much with too little positive result? I think about that awhile, too, and ponder the critical need for skillful self-care. What do I need from myself this morning to nurture this fragile vessel and this valiant heart?
When I take a closer look, I am sometimes surprised by what I find. Definitely look closer (it’s a metaphor).
…For starters, I would do well to drink more water than coffee on such a hot day, eh? (I remind myself to get some water when I finish this.)
…Maybe make a point of getting up from my desk every hour and stretch or walk around a bit rather than sit here hyper-focused on work that absolutely can wait on a wee break. (I put a couple break intervals on my work calendar and mark myself “busy” for those, and set reminders so I don’t forget.)
…My mental and emotional health will benefit from reconnecting with distant friends, and checking in with those dear to me who are nearer, too. (I smile and think of people I enjoy and who are dear to me. I’m grateful there are so many.)
I sip my coffee content to have a forward path and some idea what sorts of things will nurture me and lift me up, that also easily fit into a busy work day. It’s a start. More often than not, a beginning is enough to get me going – if nothing else, it’s where I begin (again). 😀 That’s enough. The clock is ticking… it’s time to get on with it.
Big or small, we choose what we put our attention on – and our choices matter.
I’m sitting in the sunshine in a favorite spot along a favorite trail, at the edge of an oak grove, between meadow and marsh (although the marsh is less marsh-y and more meadow-y this time of year making the distinction less clear).
A nice quiet spot for a pleasant quiet moment.
I’m taking a few minutes for meditation, and writing a few words before I get to my feet and finish my walk. Lovely morning for it. I enjoy this time and often use it for reflecting on this or that, and sometimes just to relax, breathe, and “hear myself think”. This morning? No agenda. No errands. No necessary shopping on the way home. Just this pleasant summer morning, this sunny spot in an oak grove, and these quiet solitary moments. It’s enough. Feels almost luxurious.
What might you see if you slow down to look?
Yesterday, at my Traveling Partner’s suggestion, I drove over to the coast and enjoyed a couple hours on the beach, exploring tide pools and walking with my camera, my thoughts, and my eyes on the horizon. Time well-spent. I returned home quite tired and satisfied with the day. I don’t know what I’ll do with today. My finger is still healing, no longer wrapped in a cumbersome bandage and surgical dressing, just a bandaid, but it’s not yet healed enough for hard work, gardening, or household cleaning solutions and still needs to be kept quite clean and dry and protected from damage. Maybe I’ll read? Do a bit of laundry? I just don’t know yet.
I sigh to myself and let all that go; it’s not important in this moment that I know what I’m doing in some future moment. Not this morning, on this lovely summer morning, perched on a fence rail, feeling the sun on my back. I let myself just enjoy this moment right here, now, while it lasts. Soon enough it’ll be time to begin again.
What we choose to consume matters. Fact is, all our choices matter to one degree or another. The results we get from any one choice over any other are reliably different. This is true of the food we eat, the books and periodicals we read, the services we use, the consumer goods we purchase, the platforms we subscribe to, the movies and videos we watch, and the politicians we elect. The tl;dr is that our choices matter, in our own life and in the world.
Businesses succeed or fail on their choices – and on ours as customers and consumers.
Societies rise, develop and fall based on the choices of chosen leaders enacting chosen policies.
We thrive or struggle based on our individual choices, and the choices of those around us.
It’s everything. From the choice of the food we put into our mouths (which could nurture or poison us), to the choice of who is best to lead us, every choice matters, every day, all the time. Are you up to the challenge? Are you ready to make willful, informed, eyes-open choices and also to accept responsibility for the choices you have made?
Are you even making actual choices or are you tumbling randomly through life with your choices being dictated by the opinions of others, or based on the constant media bombardment of advertising and “infotainment”? Are you even thinking your own thoughts, or has your mind been taken over by ideological bullet points, loyalty to party platforms, and AI slop?
…Who even are you?
Dawn of a new day.
As I left town heading for a favorite trail, I saw the beginnings of a beautiful colorful sunrise. I knew I had “missed my moment”. My timing would give me brief views of spectacular color, but no opportunity to do more than watch it as I drove. I faced a lived moment of natural splendor that could be appreciated and enjoyed, but not preserved. That’s okay. Hell, that is the truth of most moments. I don’t fight it. I drive on drinking in the scenery and watching the sunrise evolve from the magenta and luminous pinks to bold bright orange, then fading to hues of peach, salmon, and mauve. Gorgeous. Words don’t capture the moment.
I’m driving. Progress. The finger I had surgery on is still bandaged, but I’m back to my usual pain management, and driving, which feels good. My Traveling Partner suggests I take it easy today. I embrace that suggestion enthusiastically; I’m not quite ready to do housework, with one hand still impaired. He suggested maybe I entertain myself with a drive to the coast after my walk, and I agree that sounds like a great idea. Choices, eh? Today, and every day.
Our perspective on the world is informed through our choices regarding where to turn our attention.
I breathe, exhale, and relax – and set off down the trail after watching the last splashes of the colorful sunrise fade to a new day. Reaching my halfway point, I sit awhile on a handy fence rail at the edge of a meadow. I watch the sunshine light up the oak trees in an adjacent grove. Beautiful. Also choices. I don’t think about every choice I make, in every moment. Some things seem to flow one moment to the next in some determinate “natural” way, but these too are choices, and they are the sort of choices that can easily become problematic; they are not carefully considered and thoughtful. Even some brief pause between actions to consider the options is probably better than being on “autopilot” or following some path as though I were on rails (like a train more than a hike). I think about that as I watch little birds living their moments. “How much do they choose?”, I wonder.
Thinking things over is healthy. Critical thinking skills are worth developing, practicing, and using. It’s quite freeing to make a willful well-considered choice. Having real agency is powerful. These are all practices, and they are choices.
Choices upon choices requiring choices about choices – so many choices! I brush off my jeans as I get to my feet, still thinking about choices and the power we have to choose our path, and even the sort of world we want to live in. Every choice matters, and it’s already time to make the next choice and begin again.
Evening Light 