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Too Much and Not Enough

December 6, 2025 //
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The “cold moon” supermoon is overhead. I can’t see it, tucked behind clouds, but the light shines through thinner clouds. I look up now and then, as I walk the dark marsh trail before dawn. It’s not quite enough to light the way. I carry my headlamp in my hand, enough light to see the trail escapes from between my fingers to create a pattern of light on the ground that swings and bobs with my steps. It’s enough.

I get to my halfway point thinking about sufficiency, and too much, and not enough, and fretting a bit about the cost of everything. I make a point to remind myself how good I do have it, in practical terms, in most ways. I’m fortunate and I am grateful. Life could be a lot worse – I’ve been there, too.

The morning is mild and quiet. I have the trail to myself. Some of that is about my choices; I’m here at an hour few people are even awake on a Saturday morning. I also benefit from pure chance and the decisions of others; there are some people who also walk the trail very early. They aren’t here this morning. I guess what I’m saying is that our circumstances are a combination of happenstance and choices. We don’t really know what’s going on with other people that has created a hardship for them, so perhaps best not to be a jerk about such things, eh?

I sigh quietly in the darkness. I think about the day ahead, a busy one for a Saturday. Next week, too. I’ve got a business trip down to the corporate office. The timing is not ideal, and I wonder why I didn’t consider it more carefully when the trip was being planned? Choices. Circumstances. Tis the season to feel like there’s too much going on, and not enough time for everything.

Yesterday’s work shift was a long one. Minutes into the commute home, I was in traffic, stuck at a signal light, waiting as the cars crept forward one by one, and only one car getting through each time the light changed. I managed to avoid losing my temper. My Traveling Partner messaged me about how far the slowdown extended, which was helpful. He handled dinner, and kept it warm for me, until I got home. It felt like pure luxury and true love to come home to dinner, and not be the person making it. I even had enough energy left to fold some laundry that my beloved had done, and prepare for a holiday event that will be later today. (Vending some items my Traveling Partner makes in his shop. I’m hoping it is worthwhile.) It could all have felt like too much, instead I had my partner’s help. That made a huge difference in my experience of the evening. (Note to self; definitely ask for help when you need it – and accept it graciously when offered.)

Lately life often feels like “too much”, and my resources for dealing with it feel like not enough. It’s… ordinary. Just a variety of human experience. Sometimes we are burdened with too much (or it feels that way), sometimes our resources (time, money, emotional resilience…) are not enough, or it seems so in the moment. Perspective helps. I sit with my thoughts. I have lived through real hardship and privation. This is not that. I have survived trauma and endured misfortune – but I’m here, now. I did get through it. There will be hard times. For the moment, things are okay for most values of “okay”, and I’m managing to avoid blowing things out of proportion. Helpful. With the economy in the shape it’s in, in such uncertain times, we’ve made a choice to scale back a lot of holiday spending. A lot. But I’ve had leaner Giftmases with fewer resources in worse circumstances… I’m grateful for what I have, and what I can provide my family.

Enough is enough. Even embracing sufficiency is a practice. And when I’m feeling overwhelmed? Boundary setting and careful decision-making are useful tools… when I remember to practice them!  I chuckle to myself. If, of all the world’s suffering, I could remove only that suffering that is self-imposed or chosen, I suspect it would clear up by far most of the suffering going on. It’s an interesting thought. It hints at real relief through actions we can reasonably take for ourselves as individuals, without suggesting anything as unrealistic as no suffering ever.

When I feel overwhelmed by my list of shit to do? That’s me. That’s self-imposed. I could choose differently, change the timing or reset expectations, ask for help, or…say “no”. That’s just one example of one way to restore the balance between demands and resources, in one mortal human life. There are others. Limited resources? Make more (meaning objects or goods), buy less. Do more reading and less subscribing and online shopping. It’s not everything. Sometimes our limitations are life or health threatening, and that’s a bigger scarier problem to face. It’s still going to be helpful to take those steps we can. Incremental changes add up. Our choices matter.

The early moments of a new day.

Daybreak comes. The sky begins to lighten. I can hear traffic from the highway adjacent to the park, on the far side of the marsh. I sit awhile, remembering tougher times, and reflecting on my life. I enjoy this solitary time for reflection and meditation. I try to recall why I was ever cranky about getting such an early start… I know I once was, but I can’t recall why. I cherish this precious time on some trail, walking with my thoughts, waiting for the sun to rise again.

I think about my beloved Traveling Partner, sleeping at home. I remind myself to fold the laundry he did yesterday. It’s nice having help with chores and household care again. I’m definitely going to miss him while I’m away next week… Just the thought, and suddenly I miss him right now, too. Silly human primate.

I’m startled by a splash in the marsh pond behind me. Ducks? Geese? Nutria? I only see ripples on the water. A spattering of rain begins to fall. I get to my feet. It’s time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, The Art of Being, The Big 5, Words

Dawn and a Hot Cup of Coffee

December 4, 2025 //
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I’m at the trailhead with a hot cup of coffee, waiting for the rain to stop. I’m a little cross and don’t feel well-rested. Sometimes that’s the way it goes for me. I’m not cross because I woke up early in spite of hoping to sleep in a bit. I’m cross because the noise that woke me was triggering, and I didn’t manage that sufficiently well to avoid also exchanging harsh words with my Traveling Partner before I left the house for my walk. I’m disappointed, and this makes me cross. It’s my beloved’s birthday and I want only good experiences for him.

… I can do better…

I’m not in any hurry, at least. I took off work today, and after my walk I will pick up the birthday cake and head home to enjoy the day. I’ve got time to sort myself out before the day really begins.

The soft sprinkle of rain that is falling isn’t really enough to stop me from walking. I’m enjoying the freedom to choose my timing and my experience, and waiting for a little daylight. I’m hoping to give my beloved time to get back to sleep for awhile, too. I meditate. I breathe, and let my thoughts pass by like clouds. “Nothing to see here”, it’s a quiet moment on a quiet autumn morning. It’s enough.

Yesterday was a strange one, and I reflect on it awhile. It was the sort of day when it seemed each attempt to focus on a single task was interrupted multiple times, with the end result that the one task I kept returning to never actually got started. I’d have to begin all over again each time I dealt with some distraction, and each time my focus was broken with a ping, a request for my attention on something, or some other thing someone else wanted done… I ended the day mentally exhausted, and feeling like my time and consciousness are not my own. It was super annoying. On the other hand, my Traveling Partner and I cooked dinner together, and that was fun, in spite of me being so tired I couldn’t easily tackle dinner without his help, and had to rely on the Anxious Adventurer to do cleanup after dinner. I went to bed early, too, and still woke feeling like I didn’t get any real rest.

A steady stream of headlights sweeps past, on the highway adjacent to the trailhead parking. G’damn, I’m so glad it isn’t me, this morning. I chuckle to myself thinking about my last visit with my Granny on the Eastern Shore. That would have been… 1995? Something like that. I was in my early thirties. She was some age between 65-75, and seemed ageless to me. I remember being surprised any time her response to a suggested outing or adventure of some sort was being “too tired for all that”. I definitely get it now. Fucking hell, life is exhausting sometimes. I “run out of spoons” much sooner these days, and things seem to require more of me than they once did. I often fail to account for self-care needs, beyond this quiet time in the morning, and my well-being and quality of life are slowly being more and more degraded by that. It’s poor planning, poor boundary and expectation setting, and also fairly fucking stupid – because I am aware of the negative consequences and also actually know better through direct experience. I could do better, and I’m going to end up paying a high price if I don’t treat myself better.

… I still, often, find it difficult to put my own needs high on my list, in spite of so much growth and progress. I should work on that…

I sip my coffee, struggling to rephrase my thoughts to avoid “should…” in favor of more emotionally healthy language. I don’t benefit from joining the queue of demanding voices pinging on my consciousness. I can do better.

The first hint of daybreak lightens the sky. I think of my beloved Traveling Partner hopefully sleeping at home. I sip my coffee contentedly, listening to the patter of raindrops and watching daybreak become the dawn of a new day, full of opportunity.

One mortal woman, limited capacity to do the verbs, limited opportunity to create change, limited ability to do more, better… I’ve only got so many spoons, and this brief mortal life to live. I sigh, still pressing myself to “do more, better”, aware that more often than not I am already doing my best. It has to be enough when we give all we have, but an unfortunate truth seems to be that sometimes it doesn’t feel like enough, and there’s no more to offer. Still… I guess “everything” is more than nothing, and as unsatisfying as that sometimes feels, it’ll have to do.

The rain keeps falling.

I sigh to myself and stretch as I get out of the car and pull my rain poncho, scarf, and gloves out of my gear bin. I can make out the trail now, in the predawn gloom. I’m so tired… and it’s already time to begin again. That’s okay; I’ll do my best.

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, Healthy Living, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, The Art of Being, women, Words

Use It, or Lose It

December 3, 2025 //
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As I struggle with fatigue and distraction this morning, I think about how very many human skills and abilities are “use it or lose it”. Walking, reasoning, speaking another language, legible handwriting, cooking a recipe from memory, recalling the route to a place that isn’t visited often: all of these, and many more besides, are the kind of thing that diminish over time without continued practice. We become what we practice, and so conversely, we can expect to be far less of whatever we don’t practice. It makes logical sense, thinking about it, and more importantly experience has proved it to me directly over and over again.

How about a really simple example? I learned French from my mother as a child, Czech in military language school, and German living in Germany for more than six years. I can’t honestly claim that I actually speak any of those languages now with any fluency, at all. I don’t use them enough, and the skill has largely faded away to little more than comfortable familiarity. (Whether immersion would or would not “bring it all back” is a separate question.)

Not enough? How about this one? I write. I write something like 1500-5000 words each day, between personal and professional writing. I used to do that in pen and ink. My handwriting was very specifically my own, easily recognizable, with characteristic flourishes and embellishments developed through frequent loving practice. It was legible and at times visually “beautiful” (to me). I rarely write with a pen on paper anymore. It’s nearly all on a device or keyboard. When I do have occasion to pick up a pen to write, if only to jot down a note, my handwriting is degraded, messy, chaotic, and often completely illegible to anyone else. I don’t write by hand enough to preserve my skill.

Another deeply worrisome example is that of my late Dear Friend, whose weight and health slowly robbed her of her ability to walk, as she aged. When we met, in the mid 90’s, we would go places together as we got to know each other. We walked a lot. We camped. We attended fairs together. An injury some years later put her off her feet for awhile, and after that walking began to become more difficult. The less time she spent on her feet and walking, the more difficult it became, until it was an effort to get from her kitchen to her bedroom. Eventually, any walking at all required assistance of some kind.

Now I’ll tell you that what this is really about is all the many cognitive skills we all so carelessly put at risk every day, now, through excessive reliance on tech devices of various kinds, and… “AI”. We are very much at risk of losing our abilities to think clearly, to remember our experiences, and to socialize harmoniously in accordance with healthy behavior and within agreed upon social norms. I’d like to say maybe I’m exaggerating a bit to make a point, but that wouldn’t be true to my day-to-day experience or observation over time. I see it happening, and I’m clearly not alone; it is a common topic in the essays and thought pieces of others (many with greater relevant expertise). I think it’s something worth taking seriously.

I sigh quietly, as I stop at my halfway point on this trail. It’s still dark, and the autumn fog is thick and getting thicker. It seems a suitable metaphor for humanity allowing itself to become dumber…by choice. What a bummer of an idea. Don’t do it! Preserve your precious abilities! Practice critical thinking skills! Read an actual fucking book. Read several! Learn a new skill. (No, not how to draft a better ChatGPT prompt, that’s not as useful as you may be imagining.) Make something! Have real conversations with live human beings in real life. Walk. Daydream. Use your mind to think deeper thoughts. We become what we practice. For fucks’ sake don’t give up your mind.

…A lot of the world’s petty cruelty and actual evil only thrive because we allow it, or have become distracted. We could do better and choose differently. Don’t let your precious finite lifetime trickle away, the sand in your hourglass slowly running out while you doom scroll through AI slop you don’t even care about (or remember five minutes later). Don’t let an LLM stand in for your own capacity to think, to reason, and to understand. (Trust me, you’re better at all those things than any “AI”!)

I take time to meditate and reflect, as the first hints of daybreak begin to color the sky. I breathe, exhale, and relax. The morning is a chilly one. I’m grateful for the warm sweater I chose, and the warmth of my pockets, into which I jam my hands between paragraphs, to warm them again. We have choices. I think about mine and watch dawn becoming a new day. Later I’ll take the truck over to the dealership for a bit of work, and begin my work day there, in the waiting lobby of the service department. After that? I’ll begin again, again, and I’ll keep choosing, and practicing.

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Categories Allegories, art and the artist, autumn, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, The Art of Being, Words

Camera Settings (it’s a metaphor)

November 30, 2025 //
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I’m at the trailhead, waiting for the sun. I could walk in the predawn darkness, but this morning I choose to wait for a bit of light. Daybreak comes, and I sit with my thoughts a few minutes longer.

One morning, one moment, unique and brief.

I am thinking about how differently two individuals (any two) can view the same set of circumstances (any circumstances) or even a shared experience. We are each having our own experience. We each view the world through the lens of our own perspective, further altered by the filters of our expectations and past experiences. As with cameras, the differences in our “equipment” (our education, our economic situation, our individual values) make some difference, too, but our “camera settings” – the choices we make, how skillfully we adapt to new information, our critical thinking skills and willingness to apply those – often matter more. A lot more. An affluent person with a great degree who comes from “a good family” can still be a heartless dumbass carelessly wrecking other lives, which is to say, rather obviously, that the photographer matters more, to a point, than the camera does.

When we view the world, or even some brief moment, we bring our baggage with us. We see the world through the lens and filters of our individual experiences and understanding, making us prone to some pretty fucked up errors in thinking. You do, I promise you. I do, too. They do. We do. There are no exemptions and there is no escape. We can only do our individual best with that shit, making a point to be kind, considerate, thoughtful, and reasonable. We can make a point to listen deeply – a whole other huge endeavor that requires learning and practice (and is super worthwhile). We can ask clarifying questions – and hear (and accept) the answers. We can assume positive intent, and understand that generally speaking, most people are doing their everyday best, or think they are, without any desire to cause harm. We can refrain from taking shit personally (it mostly just isn’t). None of this is “easy”, at least not at first, but it can all be done willfully and with practice it becomes pretty natural.

It’s on my mind this morning because I’m human. I’m prone to seeing the world through my own eyes and overlooking how many other potentially also quite valid perspectives there are, which others may hold. There is often more than one “right answer” to life’s questions. Acceptable behavior is very context dependent. Two photographers at the same location, taking a picture of the same bird, will get two different pictures. It’s the same bird. Neither picture could be described as “wrong” or “incorrect”, they are pictures of some real, lived, moment. (Let’s leave AI images out of this discussion entirely, since delusions are their own thing, related but not what I’m going on about this morning.) The point I’m making is that for practical, cognitive, and contextual reasons, we really are each having our own experience.

It’s pointless to argue that someone’s feelings in some moment are “incorrect”; emotion is very subjective. It is unhelpful to reject someone’s understanding of circumstances, even in those instances when it seems obvious they’ve gotten some fact wrong. Most people cling to their own subjective flawed understanding of the world, even when provided with facts to the contrary. Human primates are limited that way. Yelling other information at a human primate trying to force a shared perspective doesn’t generally work very well, either. Even if you were to pass your camera over to another photographer, position them precisely where you stood to “see things from your perspective”, they would still get a different picture of the scene.

I don’t have an easy solution to offer on the many ways our individual perspectives complicate our interactions with other individuals. Communication is a lot of work. Building community and nurturing healthy relationships is a lot of work. People often don’t listen to each other, and when they do they often don’t accept what they hear (or don’t make good use of the information). People are emotional creatures who persist in trying to put reason and logic in charge, in spite of clear evidence that emotion arrives to every party before intellect does.

I guess one path forward is maybe practice those listening skills. Gratitude, kindness, and consideration are great steps on a path to “common decency”, too. Accepting that your way (or opinion, or choice of religion) is not the only way, is a stepping stone further on the path. Hell, your way – the path you choose – may not even be the best way. You don’t know enough as one human primate to make that determination; it’s a big world and the menu of The Strange Diner has a lot of options. There is a lot to learn and experience in life.

Tis the season

I sigh to myself, thinking about recent days and moments of conflict or stress. Looking back it often seems so obvious what different choices could have been made in the moment with better results. I focus my attention on my own behavior; it’s the part I can control, myself. I practice letting go of lingering hurt feelings, reframing experiences through a different lens, and examining my “filters” for fallacies and thinking errors. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I improve my perspective and my understanding through self-reflection. I practice the practices that have helped bring me so far, already. Non-attachment. Gratitude. Meditation. Letting small shit stay small. Savoring small wins and simple joys, and giving disappointment, resentment, and anger less room to live in my head.

Practice is more than a word. Practice is a verb. “Do the verbs”, I remind myself.

The sun rises. The day begins. I see my path stretching forward, between the oaks and along the meadow’s edge. I’ve got my camera, and it’s time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, joy, Logic & Reason, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, The Art of Being, The Big 5, Words

Let Go of FOMO

November 29, 2025 //
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Seriously. Let go of FOMO. Fear of missing out drives some pretty crappy decision-making. Remember the instant craze for those Stanley drink cups, when they came out in colors? Yeah. I’m glad I passed on that foolishness. Why? Um… Simple…

Who really “won” in this FOMO craze?

Those cups are everywhere now. Most likely that was always the goal for Stanley – a product becoming a huge fad and selling well. Right? Profit. The fuss drove so much interest these things are now readily available at most big box retailers and discount chains. If you spent more than retail pricing on the reseller market when this product was a big deal, you overpaid.

Tis the season to do a bit of gift shopping, for many of us. Want your dollar to go further? Don’t waste your time on FOMO. Want your dollar to mean more? Spend it locally, on locally produced and manufactured goods. Buy imported items from retailers you know are committed to fair trade practices and supply chains free of human trafficking and child labor. Avoid goods produced in dictatorships, or by prison labor. Small details like that can really matter. Make this gift giving holiday one characterized by thoughtful consideration, and careful selection, and not quantity. Or don’t. It’s your celebration and I’m not telling you what to do, just offering suggestions. Just maybe be mindful that “Black Friday deals” aren’t actually about you, the consumer. They are about business, and selling more product.  Those big box and chain retailers don’t care one bit about you, the consumer, beyond the limits of your bank account, and they’d happily take all you have and give you nothing, if that were feasible.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. My good mood yesterday morning was thrashed within minutes of returning home from my walk. I didn’t want to vex my Traveling Partner with my irritability, so I grabbed my purse, turned myself around, and headed into the retail chaos of Black Friday.

I don’t generally shop on Black Friday, seeing it as a retail cash grab more than anything else (and I loathe the crowds), and often the things I want to give as gifts are not the sort of things that are most often discounted. Specific books. Specialty tools. Handcrafted goods. Locally produced specialty products (around here that could be wine, various farm-produced goods for kitchen or home, olive oil, spirits, blown glass, chocolates, or charcuterie). Something to keep in mind is that artisans and craftspeople often sell their work at the lowest price they can afford to, already, just trying to compete with low cost mass produced goods. So… Do you want to gift people dear to you with a lot of cheap poor quality items for a festive morning of unboxing followed by a bit of gracious depression when the reality of worth sets in? Maybe gifting a small number of carefully selected gifts that will be enjoyed for some time to come sounds more appealing? It’s your call, and I’m not criticizing or even suggesting these are the only options. (And I’ll admit that one gift high on my wishlist this year is cheap colorful fuzzy spa socks of the sort commonly found in dime stores and grocery stores; they’re my favorite for lounging around the house or sleeping. 😆) The unicorn we’re all hunting is “more for less”, I suppose. Enjoy the hunt!

I didn’t actually buy anything on Black Friday, aside from a non-holiday (also not discounted) tool item for my Partner’s shop. I didn’t even grocery shop. I just wandered around a couple of very holiday forward retail spaces, a little bored and very irritable. “Holiday blues”, maybe, or “the down” the day after having taken more pain medication than is routine for me, in order to push through the work of bringing the Thanksgiving holiday to the table; it matters less why I was irritable, than how I dealt with it, and whether I was successful at managing it. The day ended well.

Daybreak comes.

Today is a new day. I’m sitting at my halfway point on my morning trail walk, contemplating yesterday’s failures and successes, and making room for gratitude and joy. I’ll get some grocery shopping done on my way home, and spend the day decorating the Giftmas tree. There are already carols in my head, and I caught myself singing “Joy to the World” as I drove to the trail this morning. I notice, again, the dearth of secular holiday carols. It is a chilly autumn morning, clear and still, no rain, no wind, and the clouds are breaking up as they slowly move across the sky.

A woman, a moment, a sunrise.

I sit listening to the traffic on the highway on the other side of the seasonal marsh trail. I can see hints of the sunrise developing, through the trees. My tinnitus is loud, but I pay it no attention. Eventually, I may forget about it for awhile. The twisted oak branches, bare of leaves, make an interesting silhouette against the sky. I look for shapes and faces in the tangled branches, for fun. As daylight improves the visibility, I see a small brown bird seated on this fence rail, at the other end, paying me no attention at all, feathers fluffed for warmth, head tucked in a bit, eyes closed. Sleeping? I stifle my laughter, but still manage to shake the fence rail, disturbing my wee neighbor, who wakes, shakes her feathers, and flies off. I see the shapes of other little birds, sitting in the tree branches. (Sit still long enough, watching, and you will surely see some things!)

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I consider the day ahead. This moment here? Quite enough precisely as it is. I think of my Traveling Partner sleeping at home. I know he was up during the night, for some while. I hope his “second sleep” gives him the rest he needs. I’ve no need to rush home from my walk, and silently commit to giving him time to sleep undisturbed. Far from being any sort of hardship, doing so also serves my own needs; I enjoy the solitude in the morning.

I sigh to myself. My hands are becoming stiff in the cold. I finish my writing and get ready to begin again. It’s a brand new day.

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Categories 2024 Election, Allegories, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, joy, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, The Art of Being, The Big 5
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