Archives for category: Post Traumatic Stress

I write my own words. I share my own thoughts. I don’t get grammar or spelling assistance from an AI tool, nor use one for research, and on the very rare occasions when I’ve made use of some instrusive AI summary, I’ve made a point of citing my source (you can see that on my About page from 2023, when I “tried out” ChatGPT when it was new). I think that’s important; I see using AI to write as a cheat. I see AI “content” in most media similarly; it is not “creative”, and it definitely is cheating (and often plagiarism and uncited content theft). Just my opinion, I suppose, but it is how I see things.

When you read my writing, I am communicating my thoughts, ideas, and insights to you, human being to human being. We’re sharing something which machinery (or an LLM) can not “understand”, because it lacks any understanding in the first place. Perhaps someday that will change and there will come an AI that is truly intelligent, capable of comprehension, observation, and real understanding. (When or if we get to that moment in time, then we’ll also get to worry about our potential unwillingness as a species to truly respect the sentience of other species which are not like us. I mean, whales, dolphins, elephants, and chinchillas should be enough to get us there, but we are not that smart, nor are we that compassionate nor open to others.)

For now, it’s me, here, writing my very own very human thoughts, spelling errors and excessive ellipses and all, and you, here, reading them.

Think I’m making too much of a small concern? Think “AI is here for us” and a “value to humankind”? Maybe think again – and try to see beyond the human greed driving most of the outcomes, presently – think about the impact on your own ability to think and to reason and to solve problems without AI tools. If you rely on AI, now, and lose that cheat code later, what then? Well, apparently the “what then” is something we may already have some insights into. A recent paper by Lee, Sarkar, Tankelevitch, Drosos, Rintel, Banks, and Wilson, April 2025 “The Impact of Generative AI on Critical Thinking” gives us some early assessments to consider. If you’d prefer to have something “easier to read” and already summarized for you, there’s an article by TechCrunch you can take a look at, too. Just saying; now is not the time to “get dumb” – definitely not intentionally! Those reading, critical thinking, and creative writing skills are all very much “use it or lose it” items on the cognitive menu. Choose wisely.

No AI here. That is intentional. This is me. Writing for human beings who are reading. Every word is real. (Every error is my own. lol)

If you abdicate your responsibility to think for yourself, to learn and grow and understand the world around you, to communicate your thoughts and share your ideas with others, how will you create the world you most wish to live in? How will you prevent the “bad actors” among us from doing their worst? “Why you?” If not you (and me, and each of us), then who? I’m just saying – there is no use waiting on a superhero to save us all. We’ll have to save ourselves, and each other. We’re all in this together. Do your best.

I sigh quietly to myself. Another work day. I sip my coffee, grateful that coffee is still something I have available to enjoy, for the time being. I skip reading the news after skimming the headlines. Nothing new, really, and it’s time best spent on other things. Truly. We’ve got to take care of ourselves, and take care of each other, and that sometimes means putting down the devices and going outside, reading real books, having real conversations, and being – not doomscrolling through our feeds, and panicking in between advertisements. Just saying, there really is life to be lived. I sit with thoughts of life and love for a few minutes.

My Traveling Partner restored a treasured antique that my Grandfather had given me many years ago, and returned it to me yesterday evening; I feel incredibly loved, and very fortunate. I’d wept when this much-loved keepsake had begun to fall apart, the shaped metal delaminating from the wood beneath it, the old glue had finally dissolved, or whatever glue does when it fails and goes away. I had hinted that perhaps if it could be repaired…? I didn’t really think it could be, and I “said good-bye” to it, a little heart-sick, but understanding principles of impermanence apply to all things. For years and years I’d kept certain precious things in it, and those things have been sitting sort of… clumped and “lost” looking on a shelf, waiting for a place of their own. This morning, I smiled when I saw the small metal “purse” sitting in it’s place on my shelf, with no clutter around it, precious things safely within it. I am indeed fortunate to be so loved. My beloved did such a careful job of repairing it, cleaning it up (without removing all of the patina), and returning it to me – just in time for Valentine’s Day. ❤

What love looks like.

I linger on the feelings and sip my coffee.

Yesterday evening, I had arrived home so tired. Heart heavy with the weight of the world, too. It’s too much. My Traveling Partner reminded me gently to avoid becoming mired in distant events, and to stay present here, now, in this moment, wrapped in the warmth and love of hearth and home. He was making a good point – one I make, myself, right here, often. It was a timely reminder. I needed it.

I tried my best not to be cross, and (on a hunch about what sorts of things might further lift my spirits) gently asked the Anxious Adventurer to do a thing for me, if he might have the time… some painting rails I’d been wanting to install in my room, and in the dining room, if he wasn’t too busy…maybe… He not only did this thing for me, he made a point of doing it more or less immediately (which I did not expect), and with some helpful guidance from my Traveling Partner about placement, I ended my evening putting new pastels where I can see them and enjoy them, and I found this lifted my spirits quite a lot. I’m grateful. (I’m less than ideally skilled with a drill, frankly, and I am happy that he had time to undertake this for me.) I smile over my coffee. I’d forgotten to get any pictures of the paintings on the painting rails, but I can picture them in my mind’s eye with such clarity. My smile deepens.

Gratitude and coffee – a great way to begin a morning. 😀

Don’t let the terrifying shit going on in the world become your entire experience. Breathe, exhale, relax, and enjoy your joy. Take care of yourself. Begin again.

What delights and excites you? There’s a lot of variety in human experience. Me? I like walking. Trails, sidewalks, new paths: I like to walk with my thoughts, seeing things along the way.

Today is Superbowl Sunday. I only know this because I’m interested in the halftime performer this year. I don’t watch (or care about) football. Lots of people do, though. My Dad did. My Mom reliably watched with him, but I don’t know whether she really enjoyed the game the way he did.

Some people like other sports, and there are many. Some people enjoy a sport enough to watch “the big game”, or some playoff or particular matchup between specific teams, but nothing more. Some people enjoy the ferocity of competition and shit-talking, and take things pretty personally, while others are more interested in some human interest details. Some people enjoy gathering together to party and share the excitement, and it’s not really about the game at all.

There are people who passionately follow a team or particular players, and people who memorize all the stats. There are people who collect collectibles and memorabilia, and eagerly hope to hold a signed game ball in their hands or add a particular numbered item to their collection one day.

I’m not especially into sports, myself, in spite of there being so many to choose from, and that’s okay too. There’s room for everyone to live free. I’ve got an on/off appreciation for MMA and boxing, but I don’t care for the hype or the shit-talk, and I’m dismayed when competitors turn out to be terrible human beings. I find myself ethically conflicted by the damage so many sports do to the players, and how little care sporting organizations actually provide to those injured human beings long term. Those details matter to me personally.

…But… Here it is Superbowl Sunday, and I’m not here to stomp on your joy, if football is your thing, or even if you gather for the day to enjoy snacks and cameraderie. Not at all; enjoy your joy! These are difficult times and you could probably use a fun diversion from the stress of watching the world burn.

I’m not particularly competitive, personally. I’m okay with that, too. Just another variety of human experience, eh? I’m walking my own path.

… One thing about sports, though; cheating ruins the game. True in life as well. Don’t cheat. It’s poor form, and aren’t you better than that? (You could be. It’s a choice.) Be an ethical player. Everyone wins when the game is played fairly.

Here’s hoping that the playing field is always level, the referees are honest, and that the rules are always fair, whatever sport you prefer, and in your life, too. Win or lose, I hope you find the game well-played, and that you find joy in the moment. Don’t forget to make room for others to find joy. You may love football, but someone else finds their joy in dressage, cricket, women’s rowing, regatta, kickboxing, MMORPG, esports, or… fishing. There are so many ways to play the game of life. So many ways to find a moment of joy. So many varieties of human experience. Enjoy your joy. Make room for other people to enjoy theirs, too.

I finish lacing up my boots as daybreak becomes dawn. It’s a beautiful foggy morning on the trail along the marsh, and I’m eager to walk it. I’ve got the trail to myself this morning. A crane flies by. It’s time to begin again.

How do you light your way when you must pass through darkness? Do you use matches? A cigarette lighter? A candle? An oil lamp? A big flashlight filled with D batteries? A headlamp? A portable camp lantern? Do you flip a switch? Count on public streetlights? Maybe you just wait for the sun? You’ve got choices and the choices to vary in suitability and effectiveness. Some are too dim. Some are unreliable. Some won’t last long enough to get you through the darkness. These days there seems to be a lot of g’damned darkness, doesn’t there?

It’s a metaphor. You already caught on to that, didn’t you? How will you “light your way” through the darkness as a new “dark age” begins? Do you sense the darkness falling? What will you do to bring light to the darkness? Your results may vary, but you do have choices. Don’t let your voice be silenced. Don’t stumble blindly through the darkness, persuaded that it isn’t actually dark at all.

In practical and clear terms, as information is pulled off the Internet and made less available, it’s time to make a point to buy, read, and share bound books.  Check and double-check the sources of the information you consume. Be wary of hidden agendas.

It’s necessary – urgently so – to “speak truth to power”, and the powerful aren’t going to make that easy. (It’s already no longer possible to directly email many elected officials who “represent you”, including the White House.) Use snail mail. Pick up the phone. Write letters to the editors of newspapers (while those still exist). Gather with others and raise your voices together. You may need to make a real effort to be heard. It’s important that you do. (Me too. All of us.)

The darkness is coming. Lighting a match is less likely to be useful than a headlamp on the trail, but you may need spare batteries. Flipping on the lights makes sense in a dark room, but you’ve got to pay the electric bill.

… Still a metaphor…

I’m just saying, don’t wander in darkness. Seek Illumination. Find enlightenment. Make a point to light the way for others, too, when you can. Don’t trust that it’ll be fine to wait for the sun; we never know when we’ll see another sunrise.

… Maybe don’t share your journey with people who tell you that it’s better that you should live in darkness…

It’s likely to be a long four years, and we’re all in this together.

It’s time to begin again. How will you light your way, until the sun rises again?

I overslept this morning. Of course. I have an important meeting on my calendar, early. Not early enough to change the flow of my routine at all, just early enough to “feel different” and be on my mind, in the background. I dreamt strange dreams before I woke.

I dreamt that I worked somewhere quite different than I do, and that we worked uncomfortably alongside each other, me, “the boss”, and a bunch of classic stereotypical “mean girls” (basic bitches one and all with french tip manicures, heavy perfumes, high heels, and carefully sprayed hair-dos) – and “the other coworker”. She was a pleasant competent woman going through some difficult times, and in my dream I remember feeling affronted and dismayed to hear “the boss” making dismissive comments and giving her side-eye over absences to do with child-care and medical care. It was disappointingly real, and rather than endure more of that bullshit, I left for the day.

In my dream I struggled with my car seeming to go “too slow” – like, really slow. No traffic, it just went slower than I expected. At some point I noticed I wasn’t driving my car – I had taken someone’s scooter by mistake?! Weird. I don’t ride a scooter, never have. I found myself lost on what should have been a familiar route home and began to worry that I might be sufficiently late to worry my Traveling Partner. I called home and tried to explain about the terrible day, the mistake taking the wrong vehicle, getting lost along the way, and how I ended up in a strange town with a familiar name, but where nothing at all looked the same – and no gps. I was on foot by then, near an elegant restaurant, where I had parked the scooter planning to call the colleague whose vehicle that was to explain what had happened. I couldn’t reach her. I woke with a start, and realized I was dreaming, and looked around me to take stock of where I was.

I walked on, unaware that I was still dreaming. Everything around me was destruction and chaos. Desert (and deserted) communities flattened by warfare, all the way to the distant horizon. Pinkish-beige desert sands and remnants of stone buildings, and an eering silence broken by suspicious sounds of things scurrying unseen, and I walked on feeling a strong sense of dread and sorrow. A man approached me suspicious and angry, demanding that I identify myself, as I clearly wasn’t from around there. He refused to give me directions – or hope or reassurance. I kept walking. I was approached by another man, aged and twisted, who demanded I turn over my credit cards. He was pointing some kind of weapon at me. I burst into tears claiming not to have any credit cards, and starting to tell him all about my terrible day, which he clearly had no time for. He let me walk on rather than deal with my emotional bullshit.

I wandered into some sort of town-ish area, noodle shops and small restaurants, decorated with banners and signs in a language I did not understand, just opening at dusk, lights filling the cramped narrow streets. Cobblestones? I continued toward what looked like a main avenue, maybe somewhere familiar? I saw a road sign suggesting the freeway was somewhere ahead. I saw a lovely peculiar park, filled with irregular steps leading down into a verdant lush garden, with a small lake, candles everywhere. No leaves on the trees – winter? I tried to take a picture (to share with you) unaware that I was dreaming. I couldn’t get it to turn out, from any of the angles I tried. I turned to find my Traveling Partner arriving to help me find my way home. I felt incredibly reassured to have him by my side, and started to tell him about my strange day… He laughed, and held me close and wispered in my ear “you’re only dreaming, Baby, and it’s time to wake up, time to begin again…”

I woke from my peculiar dream, still not quite sure which was the more real circumstance… the here, now, or the dream? I went through my morning routine in a most routine way, and the commute was quite relaxed and there wasn’t any traffic; I’d hit the quiet pocket between batches of commuters rushing along on their usual timing, perhaps. The office is cold and quiet. My calendar is waiting for me – no surprises. Real life feels quite ordinary, and looking beyond the window, I see my car parked in the usual place. No scooter. No “mean girls”. My head aches ferociously – also quite ordinary and routine. A new day dawning, a chance to begin again. I sip my coffee grateful that I am not surrounded by the detritus and aftermath of war, but dismayed that this isn’t true everywhere, for everyone. There are whole communities left in rubble, unlivable, destroyed, and people struggling to survive there, any way they can. Those places just don’t happen to be here. Not yet. Maybe not ever (I can hope to be so fortunate, but I don’t think I can count on that).

Strange dream, I think to myself, reflecting on the details and wondering what I might learn from it. Am I trying to tell myself something, or was my brain just “taking out the trash” as I slept? I often wonder about dreams. I breathe, exhale, relax, and take a moment for gratitude and self-reflection before I begin the day in earnest. I have choices ahead of me. I hope to make only the most wise, most ethical, and most helpful choices I can – and to contribute in some small way to truly making the world a better place for everyone who lives in it. We’re all in this together, in spite of each having our own experience. I can do better than I sometimes have. I can begin again.

…So can you. It’s time to wake up.

G’damn shit is getting real, lately. Seems like the nation is on fire, the world is at war, and the things we’ve learned to count on are all coming crashing down, doesn’t it? Sometimes? Stressful. I don’t have the answers, sorry – I’m still asking questions, and sort of wandering around with a “what the fuck??” look on my face. I do have some thoughts on getting through tough times, and some practices that have served me well, and continue to do so.

“Drone Strikes” pastel on pastelbord 2024
  1. Don’t panic. Well, okay, I mean – sometimes panic is our experience, but it’s not generally helpful. Take a breath. Take a step back. Give yourself a moment to think about things. Maybe just take a walk?
  2. Sing a different song“. This is pretty literally a suggestion that the playlist you’re listening to be one that lifts you up. If you’re listening to angry music or music that pulls you down, you’re going to feel the weight of the world in a much heavier way (at least that is my own experience). Listening to music that lifts you up tends to frame things differently. It’s easier to have a pleasant moment when your heart is not heavy.
  3. Breathe, exhale, relax. Having a consistent meditation practice, over time, will pretty reliably give you some “breathing room” – a moment to connect with yourself, and pull yourself back to “now”, which generally speaking is probably not as bad as “everything going on in the world”.
  4. Perspective. As with meditation, making room to have a broader more well-considered perspective on events and circumstances eases some of the stress and reduces the sensation of being mired in disaster. Some things aren’t what they seem – so what are they? Stepping back from the media circus and reflecting on things quietly, yourself, and giving yourself a moment to consider matters differently can be incredibly helpful. What do you actually think about things? Where did your thoughts come from?
  5. Non-attachment. Another practice that connects with meditation, and perspective, practicing non-attachment is a useful way of separating your own here-and-now experience, and your individual actions, decisions, and circumstances from those of others around you, and this can help restore a sense of balance, and put some “guardrails” on an experience of being “consumed by circumstances” you can’t control. Don’t force yourself to be part of something you aren’t part of at all. Let things unfold with an observers mind, uninvolved, watchful, curious, uncertain.
  6. Self-care. No kidding – take care of yourself. Sleep. Drink enough water. Get some fresh air and sunshine. Put down the doomscrolling machinery. Read a book. Play a game. Have a shower and put on some clean clothes. Have a healthy meal. Enjoy a conversation with another human being in the real world.
I’m walking my own path. I am my own cartographer.

I can’t tell you “everything will be okay”, because I don’t really know that they will be. I can say – with fair certainty – that we don’t always know who is pushing information at us, or what their agenda is, or what they may gain from doing so, and if we are being emotionally manipulated, we won’t be “thinking clearly”. Give yourself a break from all that. Ask questions. Step back from the things that stress you out. Think critically – even about the things you think you believe most fervently. (And for real, y’all, do not trust strangers on the internet!) We become what we practice – if you want to be chill and calm and joyful, you may need to change your practices to get there. Change is. Choose wisely. The journey is the destination, and you are the one choosing your path.

Anyway. It’s probably time to begin again, eh? I should get started on that…

It’s always a good time to begin again.