Archives for category: Practices

25 days to the US presidential election, and this one matters so much it’s more than a little nerve-wracking. I find myself weirdly irked, day after day, by the media coverage seeking to persuade, reveal, discourage, manipulate, and engage consumers (and voters) – and sometimes not for the superficial reasons that seem most obvious. Sometimes it’s just about getting eyeballs on those ads. It’s annoying. Still… this really matters. This election matters possibly more than any other in my lifetime. We’re choosing between a party increasingly defined (in my opinion) by fascism, misogyny, and fraud, and a party that seems to intend to truly do an effective (and bipartisan) job of governing the nation for everyone living within its borders (which a puzzling number of people don’t appear to support?).

I don’t think making an attempt to convince you that voting for frank rampant grift and lies is a mistake will be helpful (or successful). I expect you should already be able to discern that as a voting-age adult. If you can’t, I probably don’t want to talk to you at all, honestly. I find it really distressing to be face-to-face with that kind of disturbing lack of understanding of how terrible the outcomes are for so many people when we put rapists/wanna-be dictators in the Oval Office. Please vote, though? Cast your official opinion at the ballot box, and let’s hope for the best for America’s daughters and sons in the years ahead.

…For fucks’ sake, do not take it for granted that “the good guys will win” – it’s not a given! Please don’t yield to ennui and shrug off this election as “it doesn’t matter anyway” – it truly does matter. Your voice needs to be heard at the ballot box. (Social media is loud, but that’s not where you go to vote.) Please check today whether you are registered to vote. Get registered if you are not registered now. Find out today where your closest location to cast your ballot will be, if you are limited to in-person voting in your state. If you’re going to need to take time off to cast your vote, request it now. Don’t let anything stop you from making this vote! It really does matter that much.

It’s very much a shame that our elections have grown so tainted with cynicism and undermined by profit-chasing, and personal-gain-seeking. We have a chance to change that every time we vote. Vote for people who legitimately care about ethical governance. Vote for people of good character. Vote for people who are the most likely to do the most good for the greatest number of human beings. Stop voting for treasonous assholes whose favorite arguments are based on lies, name-calling, and insults. Stop voting for people who are bought and paid for by foreign powers. Stop voting for hucksters shilling the next shiny object that is going to fatten their bank accounts – and the bank accounts of billionaires – while leaving you broke and wondering how to pay the rent. Vote for the politician that has a record of honesty, of fairness, and of documented concern for real-world issues that affect real people (even real people who are not you). Just… do your best. Do it because it matters. Do it in a way that shows you understand how much it does matter.

Stop being sucked in by media hype and marketing buzzwords. Stop being bamboozled by the latest bullshit conspiracy. Think critically. This election could change the world – make your vote in favor of truly changing the world for the better.

Another autumn morning, no sunrise before the work day begins and I’m okay with it. I’ve got these quiet minutes of solitude to reflect on upcoming holidays, ongoing genocides, and an important election. (Please vote, I hope that goes without saying.) The world feels like it has gone mad… maybe don’t contribute to the chaos, pain, and mayhem. Don’t add to the body count. Seems almost ridiculous to say such things, but… there’s a lot of killing going on, and it is being perpetrated by human beings. Don’t be one the killers. Actual people are committing atrocities against other actual people, and somehow finding a way to justify their participation in these horrors.  Don’t do that.

It’s morning. I’m okay, though I am aware of the world, and the pain, misery, and destruction we somehow refuse to end. It’s a foggy autumn morning. The sky overhead, though, is clear and starry. It gives me a brief hope.

Traffic in the fog.

Yesterday was a good start on a new week, that is already almost over. I’m over being ill, which is nice. Monday is a holiday, which I had forgotten, and the long weekend ahead feels like an unexpected treat. I sit quietly awhile, grateful for the small win. I gently shift my thoughts away from more worldly matters, and reflect with gratitude on the many things in my life that are working out well. Small moments of joy and satisfaction. Contentment. These things matter, too, and there’s an enormous reserve of resilience waiting within them. I breathe, exhale, and relax, giving myself over to a few moments of meditation, before I begin again.

This morning I walked in the dark, with the light of my headlamp making a small visible circle ahead of me, bobbing along with my steps. I walked with my thoughts, and not much else. I was thinking about a question I’d proposed to myself recently (“How does my partner see me, in the abstract, and how does this differ from the woman I am?”), but this morning, I flipped it around and asked myself “who do I understand my Traveling Partner to be, in my recollections, when we are not together, and how does that differ from my lived experience with him when we are together?” It seems useful to understand the variances that may exist, and maybe where those may come from, and what purpose they serve (or problems they may create). Am I holding space for my Traveling Partner to be the man he truly is? Do I love that man, or just a fantasy of who I think he may be? Do I give him the freedom (and support) to change over time and become the man he most wants to be? Do I have an opportunity to be a better lover, friend and partner through understanding him more…accurately? Am I making it more difficult for us to really enjoy each other by holding on to romanticized adolescent notions of the man he is – or worse perhaps, not recognizing his real self with gratitude and delight because I’ve “got baggage”? These seem to be worthwhile questions. I walked along reflecting on them.

The days continue to shorten, and I finished my walk in darkness and hustled on to the office to start the work day. Writing had to wait on a later moment; there were more important things to do, and to think about, as I began this day. I never saw the sun rise, and when it eventually did it rose on a gray cloudy day that looks like it might rain. I wouldn’t call it “bland and uninteresting”, but it wasn’t the colorful display of recent mornings, at all.

Yesterday, I was still pretty under the weather, and I had managed to pass on the ick to my Traveling Partner, likely by way of my happy-to-be-home kiss and embrace on Sunday morning, just based on timing. I’m already pretty much over it – sufficiently so to feel comfortable going in to the office today. I’m hopeful that he’ll soon be over it, too. It sucked having to reschedule his appointments, around which my away plans had been built in the first place. lol Change is. Reality does not give a shit about my damned plans.

…Later…

I took a break. Enjoyed a moment to catch up with a colleague I rarely see in person. Exchanged some cute “stickers” via messaging with my Traveling Partner. Tackled some priority workload. Finally found myself once again in this other here and now, feeling just a bit as if it is a sort of “alternate reality” in which I am always relaxed, thoughtful, and contented. lol. “Living the dream.”

How is it already time to begin again…?

Wow. Yesterday.

The morning began well, but by the time I finished a quick trip to the grocery store after my walk, I began feeling…off. What started as a tickle in the back of my throat ended up being an entire day sick, mostly sleeping, hoping to get over it sufficiently quickly to get my Traveling Partner to appointments. I ended up calling out for today’s work shift, throat still raw, still feeling less than ideally well.

I got up at my usual time and dragged myself through my routine. There’s comfort and a feeling of normalcy in that. I go with it, in spite of the sore throat. I plan to take it pretty easy today. I feel some better than yesterday. I reach for a throat lozenge and a sip of hot coffee.

…A short walk at a relaxed pace will probably do me good…

I breathe, exhale, and relax. These fragile meat suits in which we spend our lifetime need quite a bit of maintenance and care, don’t they? So inconvenient. I’m grateful it’s not worse – there are for sure worse things going around!

I sip my coffee, waiting for the sun. Once daybreak comes, I’ll begin again… and again… and again…

… The journey is the destination.

Nice break from the day-to-day, and I definitely needed it. Now it’s back to life, back to reality…. and, oh, hey, there’s a song for that. I add it to my playlist, queue it up, and sing along as I drive to the trailhead feeling grateful that I took today off to “reacclimate” to real life after I returned from the coast.

I slept deeply last night, the first really good deep sleep I’ve had in days – since before my trip to the coast. I rarely sleep really well in a hotel. I often sleep poorly at home. I don’t take it personally or fret much about it anymore; I have sleep challenges and I’m pretty accepting and real about it. Sleep disturbances have been “a thing” for me since I was a child. I’ve experienced multiple parasomnias, some of which persist to this day, and some that I seem to have “grown out of”, or recovered from with medication or therapy. I don’t think of them as “part of who I am” so much as relatively commonplace challenges I happen to endure. I’ve long since given up seeking a root cause or wanting to assign blame. It just isn’t about that. I’m generally grateful to sleep well and deeply. It’s quite a wonderful experience when I do.

Watching the traffic pass by, waiting for the sun

The morning is dark and foggy. I watch the traffic pass by on the highway and sit quietly with my headache (which is a 7 out of 10 this morning) and my tinnitus (which seems to be turned up to 11). Unpleasant, uncomfortable sensations on an otherwise pleasant morning. My head is filled with the remnants of surrealistic dreams of running down forested paths between festival tents and brightly painted caravans, and strangers doing strange things. I was playfully evading a group of my friends for some reason, and woke before I could figure out why some angry old man was hucking tangerines at me. lol

… How’s that for having nothing at all to do with reality?…

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I am vexed by this headache. I feel certain I have “things” to do today… but for the moment I don’t recall what, and there’s nothing on my list to guide me. What am I forgetting? Anything? Is it just that nagging feeling, unattached to anything real? I sip my coffee, and wait for the sun.

…Fuck this headache, though…

My Traveling Partner definitely missed me while I was gone. The reality of having me back home, in his presence, with all of my issues, and very authentically me, this woman that I actually am, wasn’t embraced with the same enthusiasm, or so it seemed to me. I’m sometimes quite frustrated by the sensation that the woman he loves so deeply may not actually be the woman I am. I’d love to be able to see myself through his eyes…both the version he holds in his heart when I am away, and the creature who vexes him so when I am with him. I wonder what I might learn about myself – or about my partner?

Daybreak comes.

The gate to the parking lot finally opens with a familiar rusty screech and a quiet clang. The timing has changed. I take note.  Reality legitimately does not care about my expectations one bit, and it’s a useful practice to reset expectations with new information. I try to do it often.

It’s still early. Chilly morning. I’ve got a warm shirt on, and a comfy zip-up fleece. The sunrise is orange through the mist. I lace up my boots and grab my cane. Good morning for walking and for self-reflection, and a good morning to begin again.

This path won’t walk itself.