Archives for category: more than a little bit of bitching

I am recalling the excitement of buying a new album, after hearing something I really like that is new to me, or something from a favorite artist, that I haven’t yet heard. It’s often not the “big hit song” or the single on the airwaves that stays with me, memorable, favored, over-played for weeks. It is more likely to be some unexpected “hidden gem”, that speaks to me in a more personal way, found only because I listened with an open mind to more than what was obvious in front of me. I think about that for some little while.

It’s also true that a great many injuries don’t show on the surface, or leave an obvious visible scar that makes it plain that damage has been done, and may linger. These things sometimes erupt as strange quirks of character, or poor behavior, or coping mechanisms that outlive their usefulness. I think about that for awhile, too. It is sometimes very helpful too look beyond the obvious and to listen more deeply.

I have time for my thoughts this morning. I’ve definitely got a fucking cold (again), but I woke after many hours of unsatisfying sleep feeling restless and irritable, with a stuffy head. All I could think about was getting to my feet, out of the house, and onto the trail, just so my head might clear as I walked. I definitely did not want to hang about the house coughing and blowing my nose while everyone else is trying to get some sleep. I probably won’t actually walk…it was the noise of heavy rain falling that woke me I think, and I’m certainly sick.  I should not allow myself to become soaked or cold, and I can wait for the sun, enjoy a cup if coffee and write while the rain falls. Anyway, my sinuses drained and my head cleared some minutes after I started down the highway toward the trailhead. If I get a break in the rain after the sun rises, I might still walk; I always miss it when I don’t.

These are pretty stressful times, and it is hard watching America – part of it – working to become a fascist authoritarian dictatorship or dystopian oligarchy. It apparently makes me ill. Self-care is even more important in terrible times. This is also a hopeful moment in our history, seeing so many organize and protest and speaking truth to power. Wow. This too, all of it, will pass. Even our elected officials and their billionaire handlers are 100% mortal. No one lives forever. Evil governments do fall. I didn’t march or join a protest this weekend, though I considered it. (It would be irresponsible to bring contagion to a protest.) I wrote letters to my representatives, and emails. Complete inaction doesn’t feel like a good choice to me, not while we’re watching democracy burn, and the legitimate progress made since the dawn of the atomic age is being eroded with every injury to a citizen by armed, masked,  government thugs.

… And if someone tells you they are in favor of this administration’s policies because they are against all that “woke” shit? Ask them to define, in simple terms, what they mean by “woke”. I’ve been finding this simple question very revealing (and it tends to force people to consider the reality of the cruel policies being implemented with their support). Don’t let petty nastiness go unremarked upon – point it out and ask why it seems acceptable. Instead of laughing uncomfortably at cruelty, jokes, or mockery at someone’s expense – ask why the teller thinks it is funny.

What we see often depends on what we’re looking at – or for.

I sip my coffee feeling some better than when I woke. It’s still raining quite hard without letting up. A gray rainy dawn has arrived. I look out across the highway at the farm fields that in years past have been a shallow seasonal lake this time of year. This rain is welcome, we need it, but I wonder if it is too little, too late? It may be a very dry summer ahead. I think about camping and wildfire risks. (Yes, it’s a metaphor.)

The rain slows down some. The marsh trail tempts me in spite of the muddy soggy trail I know awaits unwary footsteps. I eye my rain poncho and my cane, conveniently next to me. I sigh to myself and wonder if it is a good time to begin again?

I’m sipping my coffee – still too hot to drink – and thinking about writing. I’m not really writing quite yet, no ideas. I had a thought yesterday afternoon…another yesterday evening…and as I drifted off to sleep last night, a great idea for a title came to mind (I don’t remember it now). It’s that kind of morning. I am “an empty vessel” this morning. This is rare for me. I nearly always sit down to an empty page, and simply write. Another person might reach for some app or write a prompt for an LLM… I just sit sipping my coffee and letting my thoughts, such as they are, guide my fingers.

I am a human being, writing for other human beings.

I am generally employed with companies that are “AI forward” in some significant measure. AI is the new “revenue engine”. Investors and shareholders want to see “AI” in the quarterly presentation decks and annual meetings. They don’t necessarily understand it, or have any idea what “AI” really means in any given context. Companies sometimes take advantage of this, using the language and terms of AI in marketing materials, but without changing anything in their product, services, or app. In this environment, most people pay lip service to the AI hype, whether or not they are impassioned “true believers”. In my own role, I consider myself fortunate; it’s part of the job to take a skeptical view, to find the flaws, to be watchful and cautious, and to reduce risk. I rarely use AI in my work, instead I scrutinize it in the work of others. This suits me, and I enjoy it. I am not an AI fan, and I am not interested in hype. I maintain sufficient proficiency with AI to be able to detect the problems – and I’m focused on those. Can AI do fast work? Sure. It’s superficial and rather same-y, though, and it makes a lot of mistakes (and it absolutely makes shit up and cites references to work that does not exist) and has no comprehension; it does not have an “understanding” of a single word it produces. Worse still, as it works it degrades the working skills of the users who seek its services. Human primate intelligence does not benefit from the use of AI tools.

Brain rot is a real concern

I absolutely do not use AI to write. I like writing. I like seeing words creeping across the page that have come from my own thoughts, to the page by way of my skillful hands on the keyboard. I enjoy the rhythm and the sound. I enjoy the sensation of communicating and of “being heard”. I have born witness to writers using AI and seen the damage to their ability to write unassisted, as time goes on. Creators who create without AI risk giving up much if they capitulate to using it. Thanks, I’d rather not. Creators who exclusively use AI to create are not actually creators at all (imo) – until and unless they learn to create on their own, in the medium of their choice, without an AI crutch. Few seem to – although I don’t know why they would bother, if the point is “make some money”, and the AI slop they generate does so for them.

I sip my coffee and reflect on progress and technology, and whether humanity has a shot at long-term survival in the face of our foolishness, violence, and short-sighted greed. I suspect we do not, and that saddens me. We’re pretty interesting creatures – seems a shame to put ourselves on the path to extinction, but we may be honestly too stupid to be good planetary stewards who work together as a global culture towards a greater good for all. We are too easily divided and controlled by petty bullshit. There are too many greedy billionaires (I realize how redundant that is, as I write the words), too few wellsprings of real wisdom and goodness, and the rest of us are kept distracted by the seeming urgency of earning a living day-to-day, too busy to look up from our present task to see whether the world really is burning, or do much to change that, once we discover that it is.

I wonder where this path leads?..

I sigh to myself. The week is already almost over. If I focus on work, it feels very much as if this time has been empty and rather pointless, to me personally. There is more to my experience (and my humanity) than my work (meaning my “gainful employment” with one corporate overlord or another). I write. I paint. I laugh. I feel. I explore. I contemplate. I enjoy walking beaches and forest trails. I like the sparkle of glitter, and of seeing the lights of cities from a great height. I enjoy a walk with no destination. I like a drive from wherever I am to some distant horizon. I enjoy a few minutes of idle conversation with a stranger – and I like walking away from it, into some lovely solitary moment. I read and I think, and I seek out things to see. I write poetry. I paint sunrises and moments by the fireside. I have deep discusses with friends, solving nothing in a practical way, but deepening our connection. I love deeply, and enjoy a profound partnership with my beloved Traveling Partner. (Isn’t my capacity for love more important than my capacity for staring into spreadsheets day after day?) I have endured much, and I continue to be and to become. I am one human being, being human. No AI needed (or wanted).

There’s a work day ahead, and I amuse myself by recalling a favorite way of demonstrating AI flaws (I find), which is using it to summarize big group meetings. For anyone who was at the meeting (and paying attention), the tells and flaws are obvious; AI is sometimes (often)(commonly) very wrong about what was said, who said it, and what the “take aways” from the discussion are. It doesn’t reason or comprehend, so it doesn’t actually “understand” what the salient points of a discussion were. It’s just playing fill in the blank and counting up words. AI is “stupid fast” – meaning that it is both stupid, and also very fast. Idiomatic language, accents, and variations in individual clarity of speech result in some hilariously “off” transcriptions of conversations. It would be quite humorous, if it weren’t so terrifying that in spite of these limitations people are using these tools and making decisions that affect real people with the slop turned out by AI. Yeesh. Do better, people. The survival of humanity likely depends on you being smart enough to preserve (and develop) your own cognitive skills and tools, your ability to reason and make good decisions, and your actual sentience. Choose wisely. Take the time to learn to do the things you want to do, instead of trying to cheat your way through life and work with fucking “AI” (it isn’t intelligent, at all).

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I let all that go and sit enjoying my coffee here in a real physical space, listening to the sounds of voices in the background (real people busy with real things). I exist in this physical real place. Don’t you? (What are you doing to improve it? Anything? The clock is ticking…) I smile a good-morning to the barista who greets me in passing, and waggle my fingertips at her as something like a wave, without lifting my hands from the keyboard. Actual human primates observed in their natural environment. I chuckle, aware that we are not necessarily “domesticated” creatures, and that our behavior can be wildly unpredictable, even dangerous. Funny that we adopt such airs of grandeur and dignity, so often – we can be vicious, vile, messy, and prone to casually spreading disease. I sigh to myself, hoping to do a little better at being the person I most want to be today, compared to yesterday. Incremental change over time is effective, if slow. I become what I practice; there’s no choice there, it is what it is. The choice is in what I choose to practice.

What are you practicing? Will that help you become the person you most want to be? The journey is the destination. Is it time to begin again?

Seems to be very effective so far… probably doesn’t hurt that the path is mine, and that I choose it myself.

I slept poorly. Well, that’s not entirely accurate. I slept well and deeply until sometime after 02:00. My Traveling Partner was awake, in the other room, coughing. The coughing woke me. I went back to sleep, but from that point my sleep was shallow and interrupted, and I didn’t get much rest. I’m not even bitching, I’m just mentioning it as I sip my morning coffee and try to sort my thoughts into some kind of coherent bit of consciousness. I’m not “groggy”, exactly, just…disconnected and stupid. I’m feeling cross and out of sorts, and the morning is off to a somewhat poor start, but only because of the state of being in which I find myself. In the most practical ways, it is an ordinary Monday morning.

The font and type size look weird to me in the visual editor this morning, and I fuss with trying to figure out if they are actually different somehow, or if I “never noticed before”. There seems to be a lot of that kind of misleading bullshit going on these days; changes being made without notice to users on all sorts of apps and platforms. Updates pushing new integrated AI in a coercive involuntary way. Updates that impair user freedom and control over purchased hardware and software. Other similar shenanigans seeking to harvest just a bit more data (or money) from users. Having the cognitive quirks that I do, I definitely do notice. I dislike that I find myself trying to talk myself out of seeing what I think I’m seeing. That irritates me. I let it go altogether, because in this instance it does not matter at all that the font looks like a different one, and the type size appears smaller and more compact.

I sigh to myself. I’m vexed by pain this morning, on top of fatigue (they are ultimate related; I am less able to manage my pain when I am fatigued, and likely to feel it more intensely). I sit more upright, hoping that good posture will give me some relief.

…G’damn I’m in a shitty mood this morning…

I have The Clash “Know Your Rights” stuck in my head. In spite of making committed efforts to stay away from “the news”, I can’t help knowing that the masked government thugs besieging Minnesota have murdered another citizen, an American, a patriot, a legal-to-carry gun owner with his “paperwork in order”. His apparent crime? Well, apparently that’s not a requirement anymore, at all. The assault on our rights grows, and if it weren’t so incredibly terrifying (and depressing) I might find some measure of humor in the fact that this shit is coming from a Republican administration. It’s not about Republican and Democrat, it never has been, it is about power and greed on both sides of the aisle. Sometimes the scales tip briefly in favor of “the people”. Don’t expect it to last when it happens.

…Oh, yeah, really dreadful mood…

I cue up my playlist for trying times. I add a couple more tracks to it. I definitely don’t want to listen to pop songs or muzak this morning. My heart aches for fallen heroes, and those among us willing to speak truth to power – and pay the price. Dark days, America. Get your shit together before you lose everything.

My phone rings. Unexpected at 05:30. I answer it reflexively; I have been caregiving for a couple of years, and any time I step away from the house, I feel uneasy and alert for some need that may arise that requires me to hasten home. The voice is familiar, but I don’t place it immediately. An old friend from my years on active duty, calling to let me know he’s reached a breaking point, himself, an just… can’t. My heart pounds. (G’damn, surely he’s not calling me to tell me he’s going to end his life? I don’t think I could bear it.) No, it’s not that bad, but it’s a big enough deal that he wanted to tell someone, and somehow that someone is me. He’s moving to New Zealand. “As far as I could go away from here, before someone burns it all down,” he says. He asks me if I think he’s overreacting? I don’t think he’s overreacting at all. I might do something similar if my circumstances permitted it, and just yesterday my Traveling Partner and I were talking about maybe selling our lovely cozy home and going…somewhere else. Quieter? Fewer neighbors? More space? All of that, and a few other things besides. Maybe we will… I find myself wondering how many citizens have emigrated out of the United States since the first Trump presidency, and whether that has accelerated since he was re-elected?

My work trip to San Francisco unraveled, doesn’t much matter why, and I’m not alone in it. The winter storms have thrown transportation into chaos. Can we agree that a late January travel date for a work event was predictably short-sighted? lol

I’m realizing it is likely to be the sort of day on which I am prone to discontent and finding fault. That’s not going to be a particularly pleasant experience. I sigh to myself and ask the question “are you going to stew in it, or are you going to make a change?” It’s an important question and wants an answer. I feel myself set my jaw, full of resistance and irritation, like a kid asked to clean their room on a beautiful day. I don’t want to have to be bothered with being accountable for where I am with my experience, right now. I’d rather be peeved and pick at my grievances as if they are wounds. Ridiculous. Now I am both the woman in a bad mood, and the woman irritated by a woman choosing to be in a bad mood. lol Layers of irritability. It’s pretty silly, but acknowledging that isn’t getting me off the hook for the work involved in changing it – or the choices or practices required to do so. My black mood feels justifiable and vindicated…but it’s honestly just a bad mood. I’m in pain and I didn’t sleep well. It doesn’t need to be anything more than that.

Another sigh. Another sip of coffee. I ask myself where would I be and what might I be doing if I had the means to go anywhere at all and do anything I cared to do? Moments fill my recollection; morning coffee on the shore, or near a beach, or out among the trees in some silent ancient forest, or a quiet cafe in the 1st arrondissement in Paris… I like to enjoy my coffee with a bit of a view and some solitude in the morning. In that sense, generally speaking, I’m pretty much already doing that thing, eh? I sip my coffee grateful for the moment of perspective, even feeling a tiny bit less cross. I guess that’s progress.

When what we’re doing doesn’t work, doing something different just might. I think about that, and enjoy my coffee before the work day. Soon enough, I’ll begin again. It’s not world-changing stuff, but if I can improve this experience in some small way, that’s still an improvement.

I was surprised to see a a shooting star streak across the sky, from behind me as I drove up the highway towards the trail I would be walking. It wasn’t yet daylight, still early, quite dark, and there it was, as if leading me onward. I always wish on a shooting star. My wishes silently tumbled into one another, as I listed them in my head hurriedly, hoping to finish before the star had fallen and faded away…

…I wish I had more wisdom that I seem to, and better judgement…

…I wish people would be kinder to each other, more open to each other’s differences, more compassionate…

…I wish there were no yelling, no raised voices, no gunfire, no killings, no violence…

…I wish I’d do a better job at hurrying up and becoming the woman I most want to be – that I know I can be (with practice)…

…I wish I would listen more deeply, with greater patience, and more resilience in the face of strong emotion…

…I wish life felt simple and easy more of the time…

…I wish there more time…

…In the instant between when I spotted a shooting star passing overhead as I drove up the highway and finishing a hurried list of wishes, the star streaked forward, and began to fall, before it sort of seemed to burst like fireworks ever so briefly, like a punctuation mark at the end of a sentence, and it was gone. A fleeting moment of hope, and a wish (or two) for more, or better, or… other than what is. A futile child’s game, I know. Wishing doesn’t change reality at all. It takes much more work than that.

My walk was lovely. Nice morning for it, although it was quite cold. It’s later now. Eventually my arthritis pain caught up with my headache. Strange day. It began well. I felt quite loved, cherished, and appreciated…until suddenly I didn’t. Humans being human. It’s hard sometimes. People say unkind things they don’t mean to people very dear to them, or deliver very ordinary things in terribly unpleasant tones of voice, and all the love in the world doesn’t change that. Hurt feelings… hurt. I remind myself to “let small shit stay small” and not to take things personally. It still stings when someone dear says something hurtful. Resilience is helpful, sure, but g’damn I’d really like it to matter less. I’d like to hear the words, reflect on the message, and not have it fired at me as an emotional weapon. Or… I’d like not to feel it in that way. That’s the not taking it personally piece, and it’s a difficult practice. Human primates take so much shit so very personally.

“Emotion and Reason” 18″ x 24″ acrylic w/ceramic and glow details, 2012

Human primates are emotional creatures. We feel. Our feelings matter. The complicated bit, for me, is often simply to avoid fusing with the emotional experience of my dear one (whoever that may be in the moment) – to maintain my separate self, my own perspective, my own values and awareness and agency. Getting it right means being fully accountable for my words and my actions – if I’ve royally fucked up (or if I haven’t), and even if the person I’m talking to just doesn’t see it from the same perspective at all. How does that work? I definitely need more practice.

I could bitch more. I could go on and on about it awhile. I could remain stuck here, angry, frustrated, vexed, hurt, wishing for more or different, or for someone to fix something. That’s not how change actually works. Just sitting around wishing doesn’t change anything at all. There are verbs involved. Boundaries to be set. Limitations to be expressed. Hurt feelings to be soothed. Amends to be made. Reality gets real, sometimes, and crying about it isn’t supremely helpful (it’s just a bit of stress relief). It’s important to use my words, to speak gently, to listen deeply… sooo many verbs. Choices. Actions. I need more practice.

I’m tired and my head hurts. I remind myself this is one moment of many, and that it has been a lovely day but for one moment. I breathe, exhale, and relax, and try to keep things in perspective. The way out is through. The lessons aren’t “easy” – or there’d be nothing to learn. I give myself a moment, and then I begin again.

I’m sipping coffee in the local chain coffee place close to the university library, where I most often work, these days. Work is later. For now, I’m just sipping coffee, and listening to the soft murmur of baristas going about their morning stocking and coffee making, and the sounds of the weird eclectic muzak that plays here. The playlist makes no sense to me, and follows no theme or genre, but it does repeat and I’ve become sufficiently familiar with it over a handful of weeks to easily tune it out.

It’s a cold morning. It is, in fact, freezing. Too cold for walking in the dark on an icy trail overhung with branches that were recently rain-sodden and are now freezing – and potentially at risk of breaking and falling to the ground unexpectedly. I’ll walk later, sometime after the sun is up and warming things a bit.

I mindlessly run my fingers through my hair, which only has the result of making the static electricity in my hair very obvious, lifting stray strands and creating an uncomfortable sensation as my fingers tangle in the hair and the static. I carefully un-muss my hair. The combination of dry cold air, layers of sweaters, and all this hair, adds up to quite a bit of static and things clinging here and there, or being shocked when I touch some door knob. Winter. The static is a distraction. It’s not important at all.

Somewhere far away (Davos), millionaires and billionaires are patting themselves on the backs for what awesome human beings they are, while they enjoy expensive luxuries and plan how to make themselves even more prosperous in the future. Does any real-world good ever come out of billionaires and power-seekers cavorting and collaborating in private meetings in luxury hotels, making plans for the many millions who have no direct input to the goings on? I’m asking because I don’t know. I somehow doubt it. It would require a legitimate desire to improve the lives of others alongside a genuine willingness to bear the cost of doing so. I somehow doubt that sort of equity and change minded thinking is commonplace among those who have the means and connections to rate an invitation. A person does not acquire vast wealth with that kind of thinking. They can afford to pretend that they got where they are without help, on their own, without exploiting the good will, effort, and desperation, of others. Am I bitter? Not exactly, I’m just over pretending such things have real value to people living ordinary lives, or that wealth hoarding is any sort of virtue.

…The World Economic Forum probably had a lot of promise as proposed (maybe it still does), but how rich does an individual have to be to comfortably afford annual membership (something like $50k per year) and attendance at the event in Davos each year (another $20k or so, I’ve read)? Just some perspective; a lot of regular people are canceling various subscription services these days because they just can’t afford them, or having to choose between bills and medical care. They won’t be represented at Davos.

I sigh to myself. Greed is probably the human character trait I find most vile – and sadly very common. It’s not personal, though, and billionaires frolicking in Davos have more or less nothing at all to do with me, here, now. I don’t even grudge them a good time on the slopes, or a lovely time catching up with their peers and colleagues over a coffee in some pleasant Swiss cafe. Such events generate a lot of click-bait, sound bites, podcast discussions, and celebrity photos, but beyond that, what does it have to do with me? I chuckle over my coffee, and let my thoughts move on.

I once took a tour that stopped in Switzerland when I was a young soldier stationed in Germany. I’m grateful to have had the opportunity to see some of Europe, then. The modest costs I often complained about (soldiers are not paid well) were so worth it!

…And my thoughts move on…

I contemplate my general good fortune in life, and who I have been, and who I have become over time.

…And on…

I think about times I’ve traveled here or there over the years, sampling cultures in other countries, seeing sights, enjoying a chance to touch history – the Rodin Museum, the Louvre, and the Museum D’Orsay in Paris, Holocaust memorials in Germany and Czechia, an open air market in Mexico, the underground city in Montreal, the deserts of Saudia Arabia, Kuwait and Iraq, the beauty of Azores, the Cotswolds, Bavaria, and around and about all over the US. I’ve been fortunate to see so much of the world.

…And on…

My thoughts shift gears from places to people, and I think of the friends I’ve enjoyed sharing the journey with over the years. Some were lasting friendships that continue, some that were more fleeting moments to connect and share and then move on as paths diverged.

…And on…

It’s a nice morning to let my mind wander. I’m content with that, this morning. There is no reason to hurry through my coffee or wring more out of this fragile vessel than this moment here, now, requires. The clock ticks on. I smile, filling up on gratitude. Life hasn’t been without it’s hazards or challenges. There have been hard times, maybe there will be again. The company we keep on life’s journey probably matters a lot more than where our journey takes us. I sit thinking about that awhile.

The people matter most; how we treat each other is how we treat the world.

Soon it will be time to begin again.

…the new year is a blank page…