This just in from the Department of FAFO; our nation is burning, and it’s not just our incendiary politics to blame (although maybe a little… pretty sure DOGE and Trump’s platoon of criminally unqualified bootlickers cut staffing in some critical areas…)

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

I sigh to myself as I set off down the trail. Nice morning for walking. Cool, clear skies, dry well-maintained trail, and the quiet time to make the walk without rushing; it’s just about perfect. There’s just this subtle haze over the hills on the horizon that isn’t a byproduct of distance alone, and this wildly colorful sunrise. In combination they tell me things elsewhere are burning. Fire season is here. I’m grateful it isn’t closer and that the sky hasn’t turned that sick orange-brown that results from fires nearby.

I walk on, thinking my thoughts and wishing I’d allocated my time a little differently over the weekend. I had intended to spend some time painting, and I have a head full of ideas. Instead, I chose to hang out quite a lot with my Traveling Partner (time well spent, in spite of some contentious moments mostly to do with miscommunications of various sorts). We’re both studying for our drone pilot license (part 107), and it was pleasant to share that time and the studying is more fun together. As fun as that was, I had still intended to carve out time to paint, and failed utterly. Oh well, at least the laundry got done.

I get to my halfway point and stop awhile to meditate and to write. The bold pink hues of the sunrise have faded away, revealing another likely hot day ahead. The sky is clear and blue. The air is still, and still cool. It’s already warmer than when I left the house, though. The forecast suggests 30C/86F today – a proper summer day. I’m grateful for the luxury of air conditioned spaces, and clean drinking water. I consider contrasting my experience with “less developed” nations, then recall Flint, Michigan, and am reminded that there are people in this “developed nation” that still don’t have reliable clean drinking water. For fucks’ sake, really?? Really. Pretty appalling.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I let that go, and everything else that isn’t this moment here, now, too.

Some time later, I realize I’m sitting here frowning, thoughts of packaged items to be returned, a work day ahead, and a short list of small things vexing me somehow already (still?) on my mind. A litany of little reminders plays on repeat in the background of my consciousness like some surreal but very practical chyron. I sigh, frustrated that I’ve failed completely to quiet my mind. Prescriptions to pick up. Figure out dinner later. Drop off the returns. Follow up on that item from my boss from Friday. Hang up the rest of my laundry. Change the linens on the bed. Do I need to stop at the store? Remember everything that has been forgotten, and get to all the meetings on time… All routine and ordinary… and much.

… How the hell do I finish a relaxing three day weekend by starting a new week already tired? It’s not as if I didn’t get enough rest! What annoying bullshit. 😆 Very human. I could do a better job of taking care of myself.

I breathe, exhale, and relax – and give meditation another chance. It is, after all, a practice. We become what we practice. I silence the endless reminders in my head, and get ready to begin again.