Archives for category: more than a little bit of bitching

Nothing in life is free. Seriously. You want the thing? You pay the price. You want to embark on that adventure? It comes at a cost. You’re going to take that chance, jump at that opportunity, walk down that path over there? You’ll pay for it, one way or another. This isn’t a threat, nor is it a warning, I’m just saying there’s a price to be paid for our choices, and it isn’t always in cash, or stated clearly up front.

Last Wednesday, the Anxious Adventurer and I finished off the storage move. (Yay!) There was a feeling of accomplishment, but it was also a lot of work. Friday, I took the day off work and spent about 7 hours walking on beaches, with breaks in between to write a few words, or go from “here” to “there” – about 11 total miles of walking, based on my tracker. Saturday began with a 3 mile walk on a favorite trail, and ended with housekeeping, chores, and gardening. Sunday was more of the same. Today? Yeah, today “the bill came due” and I’m paying for all of it; I feel like I’ve been in a serious fight (and lost). My muscles ache from the least of efforts. It was difficult just getting out of bed and getting dressed this morning. My back, legs, shoulders, and neck all ache ferociously, and I’m stiff. So stiff. Today I’m walking with a cane just getting from the car to my desk to the coffee in the office kitchenette, and I’m “wearing my years”. I’m not complaining, just saying this is where I am, and why. I take a moment to consider the sensations of my body. This fragile vessel needs care, and while that’s true every day, right now I’m really feeling it. Funny thing is, most of these things I did so much of were themselves forms of self-care. Hilarious (for some forms of humor). (I guess you had to be there. lol)

I breathe, exhale, and “relax” – best I can, hurting the way I do right now. It’ll pass. I remind myself that there’s always a price to be paid for the things we do, or want, or achieve, even if only the time consumed of our limited mortal years. Was the price too high? No, not at all, and I’m paying it without objection, resentment, or resistence. It is what it is. (Which is, mostly, painful at present.) The moment will pass. The pain will ease. I’ll go on to be stronger for the effort I’ve made, and I’m pleased with the outcome (particularly in the garden). Hell, there’s more yet to do. Life doesn’t pause for a breather just because a task has been completed. There’s always that next step. Another project. Another moment.

…Life being lived; there are verbs involved…

Garden books & seed packets; the plan is not the experience.

I sip my coffee (g’damn I am so sore this morning, even sipping coffee manages to hurt), pleased that it is so good today. I smile thinking about the work in the garden, progress made toward Spring, and seeds yet to be planted. The metaphor of a garden is one of my personal favorites, and I consider what I am planting – in the garden, and in life – and how best to tend my garden for a bountiful harvest. There’s work involved, and it helps to plan, and to proceed with intention, but the path ahead isn’t predetermined, and the way is not always clear. I sigh contentedly in spite of my physical discomfort. I’m fortunate, and I sit with my gratitude for a moment. We become what we practice, for sure, and our choices and actions make a difference in the life we lead – but where our journey begins, and what obstacles befall us along the way, matters too – and we have less control over that. I reflect awhile on my good fortune in life, generally. I’m not saying it’s been “an easy life”, and I’ve surely had what sometimes seems like more than my “fair share” of trauma over the years, but… considering things from the perspective of this one human experience of a lifetime of growth and change and circumstance? I’m fortunate, indeed. (It’s rarely helpful to become mired in pain, or to wallow in the chaos and damage.) I’ve much to be grateful for…

I sip my coffee, think my thoughts, and prepare to begin again.

It is a gray morning on the edge of winter’s end. Spring soon, and this morning hints at that, mild and wet and so very gray.

Early on a morning in March

I sit quietly for a moment before I head down the trail. I listen to the flocks of geese overhead and the sound of traffic on the highway beyond the nature park. Everything is muddy. Marshy. So gray. My head aches ferociously. My arthritis pain is a serious distraction. Still, I’ve got my boots on, and I’m here. This trail won’t walk itself. I sigh quietly and try not to anticipate the pain of every step ahead.

… I’ve just got to actually begin…

Yesterday afternoon I spent time in the garden. It was lovely. Time well spent. I’m paying for it now, I suspect, the bending and reaching is not ideal for my spine. It’s okay, though; the garden needed attention. If we don’t tend our garden, we surely can’t complain that all we have are weeds! The roses are pruned and ready for spring. I put down some fertilizer for the hungriest ones. I got started on cleaning up the veggie bed, too. Weather permitting, I’ll finish that today. After my walk, I remind myself, I can stop at the garden supply store and pick up soil amendments , or at least look around and put myself in the mood.

Another sigh. Another moment. It isn’t always easy to get started down the path, even when I have an idea where I’m going. Sometimes it’s more a matter of will than enthusiasm. It’s still a beginning. It’s still time. I push myself off from the side of the car, where I’ve been leaning, ready but not yet going. I look down the trail a little unenthusiastically, and get started. It’s time to begin again.

Are you “one of the good guys”, or are you just an asshole? (Are you familiar with Wheaton’s Law, and it’s history? There’s even a rap song celebrating Wheaton’s Law.) These are trying times, you’ve got choices. You can choose to be “one of the good guys” in some legitimate and authentic way, beyond whatever half-assed self-serving measures you may be inclined to rationalize, or you can truly make a difference in the world around you. It’s something to think about. I’m not telling you what to do – hell, maybe you are already one of the good guys, already doing your best every single day to make the world just a little better…? If so, I thank you for that. It can’t easy.

…I know I definitely don’t find it “easy”; there are verbs involved…

On Saturday, apparently, national park rangers at Yosemite flew the American flag upside down from El Capitan. For real. Wow. Freakin’ park rangers engaging in visible protest in a relatively bold act of civil disobedience. I feel a certain amount of civic pride as an American to see that. I wish them well.

…Park rangers and librarians, the superheroes of the 21st century…

These are emotionally trying times for people. It’s important to avoid rationalizing terrible behavior by those in power. It’s important to check every fact. It’s important to call out liars for their lies. It’s important to hold on to our kindness, compassion, and wisdom. It’s important to remember that every human being hurt by terrible policy and bad acts are indeed human beings, worthy of dignity, of care, and of being treated equitably and respectfully. People ahead of policy. The goal should not be set based on “acceptable collateral damage” when we’re talking in terms of human lives, human quality of life, and human rights. Figuring out how to treat people sufficiently well may be a question to be answered, but there is no question whether to treat people well. That seems, to me, like minimum basic human decency. Just saying. Do better.

Also? Stop electing assholes into important public offices. (This should probably go without saying.)

I sigh and sip my coffee, and think about a far away friend dealing with his own shit, figuring out his own path. No map. So many choices. It’s easy to become distracted by the chaos and bullshit going on in the world and overlook the little things (the simple joys, the solvable problems), but there’s so much less any one of us can do about the chaos of the world – besides vote with care, and speak truth to power, and do our own humble best to avoid being a major asshole ourselves – and losing focus on the things within our own control ultimately adds to the sorrows of the entire fucking world. It’s a weird puzzle, isn’t it?

Simple pleasures can be so satisfying.

The weekend passed gently, and I spent it mostly focused on hearth and home. Time well-spent. Simple joys like home-cooked meals, and a tidy house can really add up. It was worthwhile to invest my time and emotional energy in the activities of my own life, and I spent very little time on matters outside my own home, family, or community. (Enough to be distressed by what absolute raging assholes some people can be, and saddened by how easily so many otherwise well-intentioned people can be bamboozled by powerful or wealthy jerkwads. Yes, I’m being intentionally crass and disrespectful of such individuals – they do not deserve better. They have earned my disrespect and my loathing. It upsets me too much, and there is so little I can do about it in any obvious way, I have to be careful to avoid letting it overwhelm me.)

I did notice something while I was out and about on errands, though, and it’s not the first time. A particular petty bit of fraud (maybe “dishonesty” is more accurate?) that I find distasteful; “student driver” bumper stickers on cars used and owned by, being driven by, people who are definitely and obviously not “student drivers”. It was awhile before I caught on to this particularly petty fraud. Why would someone do this? It is dishonest. It is a lie. (I mean, unless you’re actually a student driver, obviously.) What is the point? These sorts of “little” cheats undermine a person’s entire ethical foundation. Why do that? (Go ahead, I’ll wait…) How does a person justify this particular lie? Every time I see it, I wonder. Every time I see it, I know I am seeing someone I can’t trust to be honest and true. I wonder if the people who use this “strategy” understand that they’ve sold out their integrity? I think about it awhile and sip my coffee. Humans being human, it’s likely that such people have found some way to rationalize their behavior. Just as people who vote a monster or a fraud or a rapist or a dictator into office likely find some way to rationalize their terrible choice, even as the consequences of their choice become clear to them in painful ways they did not (or refused to) see coming.

I think my point is that we’re all making choices, and the choices we make do say something about who we each are. The outcome matters. My question is, are you “one of the good guys”? Are you even trying? Are you thinking critically about your own decision-making? Do you consider the potential consequences of your actions, not just for you, yourself, but also for the people around you – and the other human beings in the world who may be affected by what you may choose? Could you do better than you did yesterday? Better than you’re doing right now?

It’s time to begin again.

Last week’s snowstorm feels like a long time ago, not the short 4 days that it was. The long weekend I was so fortunate to enjoy stretched time and gave me an opportunity to really rest, to get a few things done, to enjoy my Traveling Partner (and my life) – and I took full advantage of it. I stayed up later. I slept in a couple times. I even took an afternoon to dive into a long-waiting personal project to do with sorting and filing and tidying up my many digital images of my art work. That was incredibly satisfying. I cooked a couple of really good meals. I enjoyed breakfast or brunch with my beloved each morning. Time well-spent. It wasn’t “fancy” or costly or exotic, it was just… mine. I needed that.

This morning I woke to my artificial sunrise and prepared to head to the office. I didn’t notice until I was almost half way into my commute that I had somehow set my wake up time to… 04:00. Good grief, really?? I definitely did not need to be up that early. No traffic, though… pleasant, quiet drive.

Now I’m at my desk, drinking my coffee, trying to stretch enough to feel… different than I do. I don’t know what I’m going for, maybe, but I think “comfortable” would be good. I feel unexpectedly sleepy, in spite of the coffee (because of it?). I didn’t sleep particularly well last night. I am paying for that, and the early wake up, in physical discomfort and restless sleepiness. My back aches with my osteo-arthritis. My neck aches from degenerative disk disease. My headache is with me this morning, too. My shoulders feel tight in spite of adjusting the height of this adjustable desk several times. The delicious relaxation of the weekend gives way to the subtle tension of the work week. I stay away from the news; it’s all pretty bad, and none of it is “new information”. It’s all stories about shitty people doing terrible things to make a name or profit for themselves, in some cases out of nothing more than pettiness and spite, other people standing around wringing their hands and not doing much of anything helpful about any of it. The usual. Human suffering. Human greed. Human cruelty. No superheroes.

…And I’m fairly fucking over hearing about Elon-fucking-Musk. I mean, seriously? That fucking guy. How he’s managed to con so many otherwise rational-seeming people is just beyond me. Why keep giving him more money for products he will not ever make? Can we not also let him tear down our fucking government? Are his substantial and obvious conflicts of interest not enough to make that clearly a terrible idea?! Fucking hell. Just how fucking stupid and gullible are we?

I pause my writing to hunt for a tissue in the quiet empty office. Noticing how good it feels to actually move around, I wander a bit, and take a walk around the building, outside, stretching, and taking deep breaths as I walk. I bring my attention back to “now” – where I am. This moment, here. Daybreak has come, dawn is here, the sunrise is imminent. It is a new day, filled with new opportunities. I amuse myself with observations of how good self-care sometimes feels. Funny that it can feel so hard to make time for those practices…

I sigh to myself and return to my desk, along with my aches and pains. Typical shit. Most of us deal with some measure of pain, some of us deal with more. It’s part of the human condition, and I try not to take it personally, and also do something about it and get on with my day. I smile fondly when my thoughts return to my Traveling Partner. I hope he gets the rest he needs. (He’s also been sleeping poorly.) I look at my calendar, check over my email, plan my workload for the day… It’s time to begin again.

I’m sipping iced coffee on a mild rainy winter morning, waiting for a break in the rain. I don’t really like taking my walk in the rain. It’s definitely raining too hard to comfortably enjoy a walk. I sit listening to the raindrops on the roof of the car, and the cars wooshing by on the wet highway beyond the trailhead parking. Now and then the rain begins to diminish before resuming just as heavily as before. I wait.

I’m glad I got coffee on my way. I take a moment for gratitude, and to appreciate this simple luxury.

I glance at the news only long enough to regret doing so. Obvious profit-driven sponsored content and repetitive AI-written articles from the outrage machinery of corporate media fills my feed, and I feel almost fortunate; I am not tempted to explore further or continue scrolling. Why would I deliberately consume actual garbage? Well, I wouldn’t.

Two headlines catch my attention: DOGE wants access to private citizen IRS data (yeah, that’s every bit as horrifying as it sounds, and completely inappropriate, but likely to happen nonetheless), and someone wants Trump’s birthday to be a federal holiday. That one has me laughing a bit. I mean, sure, okay. First, what a dumb fucking idea, and I definitely rolled my eyes, but also, and here’s what got me laughing… How “fun” (?) to have a dedicated day of mourning for lives wrecked by government stupidity, bad decision-making, petty cruelty, and all manner of the ridiculous horrible chaos this administration has wrought? We could celebrate by wearing black, hosting resume writing parties, and attending civics seminars and civil rights protests! I’m still chuckling to myself. No way I’d celebrate that clown’s natal day any other way. What a petty, corrupt, vain, cruel, ignorant nitwit. America doesn’t really have a day for burning effigies… maybe we should?

I sigh to myself. When shit gets bad, humor is a lifeline to a better time. Don’t forget to laugh. Laughter is a very human thing. Also? Tyrants and mean people hate to be laughed at.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I listen to the rain fall and make room to contemplate the joys in my life and to appreciate the things that are working out and going well. “Taking in the good” is a great practice for building lasting resilience and self-soothing in trying times. Finding perspective, and making a point of practicing non-attachment is another useful tool for limiting the likelihood that I’ll become swamped by some moment of despair.

We become what we practice.

I remind myself to also practice kindness, and patience. I’m not alone in being stressed out and frankly horrified by the ugliness being perpetrated by elected, or chosen, bad actors. Bringing compassion and understanding concern to my interactions with others will be helpful, and more likely to have a good outcome than snarling at them in some moment of frustration, fear, or doubt. I mean, for fucks sake the most basic civil rights are under attack. Pretty scary. I remind myself to speak truth to power, to raise my voice, to defend not only my own rights, but the rights of others, too. We’re all in this together.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s already time to begin again. There’s work to be done. Democracy is worth fighting for.