Archives for category: Oregon Trails

I’m enjoying a moment of peace before work. The world is in chaos, or seems to be, but that’s not new, and it’s not here, now. This moment, here? Quite peaceful and lovely.

A Spring Wednesday, and a moment of peace.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

I’ve been working on undermining years of carefully built “autopilot features” to more comfortably and reliably exist in the present, particularly when I am spending time with people dear to me. It is a mixed success with some humorous moments. Sometimes it’s not as funny, and my frustrated tears certainly make that clear.

It’s a choice to make this change, and a matter of resetting out-of-date coping skills. I keep at it.

My choice to walk my usual walk in the opposite direction somehow puts my “halfway point” in a different place. That’s fine. I don’t mind. The familiar views seem somewhat different, and I enjoy the change of perspective. I take a seat on a large rock, and look at the vineyard from a vantage point that is obscured by tall grasses, some of which I may be allergic to. The sneezing passes. I’m grateful for the pack of tissues in my pocket and not overly concerned with my now-stuffy head. That’ll pass, too.

I sit reflecting on recent conversations with my Traveling Partner. Love reflects us back on ourselves through less critical eyes than our own. I feel beautiful, because he sees me that way. I feel more capable, when he appreciates my efforts. Although this could be problematic if I were to be reliant on his opinions for my self-esteem, there’s real joy and new perspectives on myself when I see myself through his loving eyes. I know he loves me, because he also tells me hard truths with loving words, and I think about these and take advantage of his loving perspective to help me on my path. I’ve grown a lot in this relationship (he has too). I’m not giving up credit for the work I’ve done or the choices I’ve made – I am grateful for such a strong partnership.

This morning, I sit contentedly by the trail, with my thoughts. I feel centered and unbothered and at peace. No doubt this too will pass; that is the nature of moments. I’m okay with savoring this moment and enjoying it, however brief. There’s further to go on this path, and it will soon be time to begin again.

The fallen petals of cherry blossoms are in soft pink drifts at the edge of the trail. The color is pretty. I look at the drifts of petals for awhile, considering the variations in hue. I think about what choices I would make about colors if I were to paint these drifts of petals in pastels. White isn’t white, it’s more a very delicate pale pink fading to a cream color toward the soggy edges, and dappled with bold magenta in places where very fresh petals have fallen, between these extremes, a soft cotton candy sort of pink. What we see in passing is often more complex if we take time to look closely and study what is before us for awhile.

This peaceful moment was made by slowing down, being present, making choices, and taking time to enjoy things as they are. Worth it.

I get to my feet and brush damp pink petals from my jeans. It’s time to begin again, so I do.

I’m sitting at the halfway point on my walk, on a Wednesday morning, thinking about halfway points, and Wednesdays, and walking some other trail than this one. Maybe this weekend I’ll head up the road to the nature park, or into the foothills to test myself on some less traveled trail or abandoned logging road? I sigh to myself. Even the most familiar path can have strange moments. This one, for example, now detours around a bit of construction.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

What path will you take? Depending on where you are in life, the reply may be “what path is even available?”. The world seems pretty crazy, and more and more people seem to take comfort within the very narrow world of their device, and the apps that feed continuous AI slop into their vacant expressionless face holes. I’m saddened by that; we have so much more potential.

I’ll admit that I’m frankly resentful of, and resistant to, every new observation that yet another company is shoving some half-assed AI or LLM tool into an application or device I had previously valued. Generally speaking, it reliably represents a degradation in my experience as a user. I look for work arounds, alternatives, and sometimes just give up on that thing entirely. I’m not interested in being forced into costly mediocrity in order to satisfy shareholder illusions about user adoption of enshittified tools, services, or platforms.

… I’d rather walk a different path…

I breathe, exhale, and relax. G’damn I’ll be glad when this administration is washed away by time, and our gerontocratic representation finally ages out of the workforce, if only through the finality of mortal human lifetimes. We are mortal creatures. Fucking hell, do better, People. You do realize we chose this? Choose differently, if you want different outcomes, right? We could start with taxing billionaires (heavily – make them give back to the society they exploited to gain their wealth, and make them do it in cash). Another good step would be to strictly require clear ethical standards for anyone elected to office and all judges, and enforce it. No loopholes. Create firm prohibitions against profiting from public office, at all. I sigh. I’m so over corruption and profiteering and greed.

“You wouldn’t say stuff like this if you were rich.” Maybe not. It’s unlikely I’ll ever know; I’m not the kind of person who does the sorts of things it takes to become wealthy. Pull on that thread sometime, really take a look at the history of some great fortunes. Get back to me later on the behaviors and actions of people who build great wealth, and how ethical they were.

Be here, now. Breathe.

I breathe in the Spring air. It smells of flowers and trees and mown grass and damp earth. I let go of my vexation with the path America seems to be on, and sit with this lovely Spring moment. Sometimes that has to be enough. Choose your path. I’ll choose mine. We’re each having our own experience.

My getaway to the coast last weekend really re-energized me and refreshed my sense of things. I needed that restful time. I could easily have enjoyed my leisure for days or weeks, even months. I don’t work for a living because I want to. 😆 I’ve got a long list of things I’d rather be doing.

I’ve made choices in life that brought me to this place, and these circumstances. It’s not a bad life. Honestly, it’s pretty good and I have a lot to be grateful for. I’m fortunate. There are opportunities to choose, or choose differently. I walk the path I’m on, doing my best to make good use of my skills and knowledge, to gain more of each, and to live well without doing harm. It’s fucking complicated, sometimes. I think about the many times the temptation toward greed has complicated my own life. Choices.

Squirrels chase each other around a tree, as I watch. It seems an appropriate metaphor somehow. I glance at my watch and wonder if I’m wasting my time. Anyway. It’s a Wednesday, a work day, and it’s time to begin again.

It is a Friday morning. I’m sitting at the halfway point of my morning walk. I sat here for some little while before I pulled my hands from my pockets to write. This morning I made a point to grab my heavy fleece, scarf, and gloves from my gear bin in the car. Practical. I’d feel smart to have done so, but it’s more to do with being reminded they are there for me, last night, when I went looking for a spare filter cone for an evening coffee for my Traveling Partner who had put the ceramic one in the dishwasher.

… Reminders are helpful…

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

I feel the cold. Another near-freezing morning, but already daylight (jeez, how long was I sitting?) and things will warm up pretty quickly. Probably. Change is, and warmer days are coming.

I take my medication on time, double-checking that I took all of it. I missed a small pill yesterday morning that resulted in an unfortunate (and deeply unpleasant) emotional meltdown over nothing of consequence. It was inexplicable, and I was grateful to discover my mistake a little later, and felt more myself shortly after taking it. I think there is too little discussion about the very real psychiatric and mind or mood altering effects of common prescription (and nonprescription) drugs. We could do better.

A small herd of deer quietly and slowly walks past me, one by one. The group of does steps from the trees on the creek side of the trail, each looking at me cautiously as she steps into the more open space, and they cross the trail, and continue into the vineyard, nibbling on choice grasses and tender green shoots. Spring. They’re hungry and lean from winter, and a couple are also clearly pregnant. They are more concerned with finding food than they are with my quiet presence. They walk on, and disappear from view.

My Traveling Partner offered to disappear for the weekend. Maybe he will, maybe he won’t. I feel very loved that he offered. I could fuck off to the coast, myself, and get some solitary time, but the expense is difficult to justify. I sit thinking about things he said yesterday evening about self-care and taking the time I need, and setting better (clearer) boundaries when I’m reaching the limits of my resources. He reminded me that he no longer needs the near-continuous care I was providing after his surgery. This is definitely true. I’m relieved and happy every time I think about it. I’m also struggling to adjust, to step back, to give myself a break.

…We become what we practice…

I sit reflecting on what I need, myself, to be well and healthy, and to thrive in my life. I remind myself how adaptable I am. I remind myself that we become what we practice. I sigh quietly and watch the vapor of my breath dissipate in the chilly morning air.

… Maybe a drive to the coast and coffee on the beach this weekend, if my beloved stays home? Or a very different sort of self-care in the form of some retail therapy? (I could do with some new bras, and prefer to shop for such things in person.) Maybe a different hike somewhere new? Another sigh. No idea. I could stay home and paint, or finish tidying up my studio… I could work in my garden. I feel the “want to’s” begin to collide with the “have to’s”, and feel annoyed with myself when they blend and blur and begin to morph into more of the same scrambling and striving and working that I’ve trapped myself in for awhile now. I should work on that.

I laugh out loud. Adulting is hard. I’m tired. I’m also making choices. I can make different ones. I get to my feet, looking down the trail into the future. It’s time to begin, again.

I slept well and deeply, woke gently, on time more or less, and made my way to the trail for my morning miles without any fuss. I think I even managed to avoid waking my beloved Traveling Partner on my way out. The day begins well.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

In the distance, clouds, hills, a horizon.

As my steps carry me along the path, I notice the distant mountain foothills have snowy patches, partially obscured by low clouds clinging to the hillsides. Instead of blue sky above, more clouds. Even nearby, the weather seems less like the Spring I expect, and more like late winter in the Pacific Northwest. It’s cold, too. 1°C, very nearly freezing. The path is slick and frosty. There are little birds everywhere. They don’t seem to mind the chilly morning.

Here and there, blue sky peeks through the clouds, like a promise. Everything looks green and ready for warmer days. This chilly morning was unexpected, but not wildly outside the obvious possibilities, for the area. I was less than ideally well prepared, this morning. I walk briskly to my halfway point, hands jammed into warm pockets. I sit on a cold bench at my halfway point, pausing my writing now and then to warm my hands again before I continue. I’m okay with it.

My fingernails are a shimmery shade of blue that seems fitting for reflecting this sky on this cold morning, and I smile each time I see them. Getting a manicure is a treat, and I was a bit overdue. I like my new manicurist, too. She does beautiful work, and makes pleasant conversation.

What do you see when you look?

The tangle of oaks overhead seem as if they have captured the cotton candy pink of the dawn sky in their branches. I feel merry in spite of the chilly weather. Another work day ahead. I’m eager for warmer days and long afternoons in the garden. The deer have begun wandering through each night, eating the tender shoots and new growth from the tops of all the roses. I’m glad I didn’t hustle to get starts planted! Between the cold and the deer it would have been a wasted effort.

I think about that for some little while; the idea that practicing non-attachment, and taking a more relaxed approach to getting things done sometimes allows me to out wait some vexing circumstance, and move on more easily, isn’t a new idea. It is the “wait and see” approach on of many relaxed people. Low stress. Low drama. I’ll still get the garden planted, probably this weekend when I also have time to put together the fence I’ve planned, hoping to keep the deer from also eating my garden (as they did last year). Maybe rose cages for early Spring, next?

The chilly morning begins to distract me. I’m not really dressed for the cold, although my cardigan is quite warm. In the distance, I see sunlight touch the hillsides. I wonder what the day holds? I get to my feet to begin again.

It is a lovely Spring morning, and it begins well. The rain stopped just as I got to the trailhead. Daybreak arrived soon after I did.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

I enjoyed a pleasant moment with my Traveling Partner over coffee, and it is payday. A promising beginning to the day. I’ve even got a manicure appointment later, and managed to go almost 5 weeks since my last one without my cuticles tearing and without picking at my fingers. Major win.

What makes a moment? Mostly what we feel about it.

I get to my halfway point thinking about AI and the number of companies forcing that crap into every app, and every customer portal. It has degraded my experience of everything it touches. I’m frustrated by that, but more and more often I am also (rather cynically) amused. My amusement is mostly to do with the humorous notion that anyone needs to work to “keep up with” peers and colleagues using AI tools. No keeping up necessary. I’m watching their cognitive skills erode in real-time, instead. Wild.

Where AI most often vexes me presently is in the predictive auto-complete function in some applications where some amount of writing is required. I had gotten used to algorithms that specifically learned from my own use of language. At some recent point, it clearly changed, and now it is just… fucking wrong, a lot. It would be hilarious if it weren’t so annoying. It slows me down having to correct that shit constantly. I have my own voice, my own style, and I make my own mistakes in both grammar and spelling. Fuck AI. Who needs it? I’m not looking to sound like anyone else.

I chuckle to myself. I’ve no interest in wasting precious mortal lifetime writing prompts. I’d rather just write, and so I do. Similarly, I’ll do my own shopping, choose recipes without assistance, figure out a route for some road trip without AI, answer a friend’s text or a work email by actually simply typing my reply… I find it worthwhile to use my own mind. It is quite clear that these skills fit into the set of things in human life that are “use it or lose it”, but it is also clear that a lot of people won’t really understand that until they are no longer able to answer a simple question about themselves without asking a slopbot. That’s pretty sad. I make a note to buy more books and read them, and to spend time finishing the book I’m reading now.

The sky lightens. There is a new day ahead, filled with opportunities and choices. I smile, thinking of the garden. It’s time to plant starts and make that fence to go around the veggie bed to keep the deer from feasting on seedlings and topping all my tomatoes and peppers, this year. I have a plan.

I watch the clouds separate into lines and streaks as dawn becomes day. Beautiful blue sky shows through the breaks in the clouds. I feel like painting. This too I do without AI, pastels between my fingertips, eyes on the work, and an idea in mind. AI has no place in art. My opinion, of course, and no AI was required to think the thoughts that brought me to that conclusion.

I sigh happily to myself, enjoying this moment. No AI would be useful for that, either, and isn’t simple enjoyment of a moment one of the most fundamental human experiences? I definitely don’t feel as if I’m at risk of falling behind because I have no appreciation of (or use for) AI or LLM tools.

I glance at the time, reluctant to walk on down the path. I am enjoying this moment right here, now… but it is time to begin again.