Archives for category: Post Traumatic Stress

We’ve all got to walk our own mile. Sometimes it is a difficult journey. Sometimes we’re fortunate enough to share some portion of the journey with other travelers. The company we keep matters. A lot. Walking a difficult path alone may be a better choice than sharing the journey with those who wish you ill ( or even those who simply don’t care whether you stumble).

The way ahead may not be obvious. Conditions may be bleak.

I’ve never understood why someone would choose an unforgiving path in the company of the hostile, mean-spirited, cruel, or other ill-intentioned souls on life’s journey. Sometimes we happen upon such folk, our paths may cross, but why choose to endure miles shared alongside them? What value does it add beyond painful lessons learned? Won’t circumstances deliver enough of that without seeking it out?

Isn’t being alone and walking a solitary mile better than sharing the journey with someone who would mistreat you?

Walk on. Choose the company you keep with care.

It can be a cold and unforgiving journey without also sharing your hard miles with those who wish you ill, or who would misuse your gracious presence for their own ends.

We’ve all got to walk our own mile, whatever the weather. (It’s a metaphor.)

My steps on the trail make a crunching sound as I walk over what’s left of the snow. I feel the snow compress and yield beneath my weight with each step further.  The air is clean and crisp, and feels strangely warm for 36°F. I feel comfortable in my warm sweater and my fleece. My steps feel purposeful as I walk through the fog along the marsh trail. Daybreak has come and the gray of the foggy morning changes hue. No colorful sunrise this morning. I have the trail to myself and I walk with my solitary thoughts, content to be alone.

I am grateful for a partnership that gives me such easy freedom to embrace solitary joy. My Traveling Partner has a standing invitation to join me on my morning walks, any time. (He’s more of an afternoon walk in the sunshine guy.) He doesn’t grudge me this solitary joy, and isn’t inclined to be out here on the foggy winter trail. I’m grateful to share the journey with such an understanding traveler.

My thoughts accompany me through the oak trees along the trail…

My thoughts wander. I smile recalling a time when I wore a favorite T-shirt that said “I don’t f* mean people” – and it was true then, and is still true now. I mean, why would I? Why would anyone? Isn’t it better to be alone? It’s a question I ask myself often, because I see so many people who seem uncomfortable with solitude. I don’t understand that, at all. Even my inner demons are better company than mean-spirited, cruel, or petty people. (I enjoy my own company quite a lot.)

Winter oaks, a foggy trail, and solitude.

I get back to the warmth of the car. Write a few words and reflect awhile on the quiet joy of a solitary mile in my own good company. The company we keep on this journey matters a lot. If you find you’d rather endure ill-intentioned companions than spend your time alone, that may be something worth reflecting on. You could be your own best friend. You could even walk a joyful solitary mile instead of enduring an unforgiving path in poorly chosen company. Isn’t it worth thinking about?

I breathe, exhale, and relax, sitting with my solitary thoughts, contentedly. It’s enough. I find quiet joy in this moment of solitude.

It has been worth it to step off the unforgiving path to walk a very different mile in well-chosen company – or solitude. Worth it to begin again.

I’m working on beginning again. A perfectly adequate reasonably pleasant ordinary sort of moment was poisoned so quickly by frustration. Frustration can be such a toxic thing – it hijacks my experience completely, if I allow whatever momentary bullshit to take over. In this case? The camera on my work laptop. I’m so annoyed by this. Somehow, the “privacy shutter” on this stupid thing is now toggled on, and every help file or article l I look at references some physical or software detail that is not at all how this particular laptop… is.

One suggests I use the small slider above the camera. There isn’t one on this laptop.

Another directs me to use the function key for the camera. This laptop does not appear to have that function key, specifically, and I haven’t yet found any clear guidance on what combination of other keys might get that result.

There are pages and pages and lists and lists of steps I could take, based on operating system – not one of them appears to match the details of this version that I’m using on this laptop.

…This difficulty only presents itself when I am on meetings, and has only done so since the meeting I had yesterday – on Zoom. (“Fuck this stupid bullshit” I snarl to myself, resenting having been talked into installing Zoom for one damned call in the first place.) I sigh to myself. Clear cache. Clear cookies. Uninstall Zoom. Reboot. Check all the privacy and camera settings I can find. All the basics. Minutes tick by unproductively, my frustration builds and spills over to… everything. I am annoyed and cranky.

“Stop.” I tell myself, gently. “Just stop. Give up on it for now, you don’t even have any more meetings today. Let it go. Reset. Begin again. Focus on other things that matter more. Fuck all this noise and bother over nothing.”

The view out the window, a different perspective on a moment.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I put myself on “pause” and look out the window into the blue cloud-streaked sky.

I sip my afternoon coffee, pleased that it is better than the cup I had this morning. I let that be my focus, for now, just me, this view beyond the window, this cup of coffee. It’s enough. It’s this moment, right here.

The hardest part of toxic frustration is choosing to let it go. Now that I have, though, I can properly begin again. I sit awhile, watching the trees on the other side of the parking lot swaying in the winter wind. They wave back and forth steadily, like inverted pendulums, rocking, waving, hinting at a cold wind I’m grateful I don’t feel. The sun streaming in through the window gives an impression of warmth, though if I put my hand on the glass, I feel the cold come through. Definitely winter.

I remind myself to leave the office early enough to stop at the store for my beloved Traveling Partner and pick up a few things he’s asked for. I’m eager for him to be driving again – soon – but I also greatly enjoy doing little things to be helpful. It’s a small way to show my love and appreciation. I feel needed when he asks for some little thing. He feels loved when I handle it capably. It’s an exchange. I smile to myself, feeling the way our love “balances the scales”. We complement each other in so many ways. We’re so similar, and also so different – we share so much, and enjoy life together so much more than we would without each other. I sigh contentedly; this matters so much more than the earlier frustration.

I finish my coffee, and begin again.

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?