Archives for category: War and News of War

My neck and back hurt. I did my physical therapy “magic moves”, with limited benefit. I catch myself “pulling on” my neck, even knowing that is not helpful. Background stress drives physical pain, much the same way physical pain makes me more vulnerable to background stress. Yep. It’s a cycle. How best to break that cycle? Choose the most appropriate practice(s) and do that(those) thing(s). “Simple!” (It isn’t.)

Trigger Warner for Snowflakes: discussion of gun control.

I’ll go home early today. I’m fortunate to have a job, a role, and a boss, with room for empathy and compassion. A lot of folks are suffering emotionally this week. Maybe everyone. Another school shooting. Another round of back and forth bullshit over gun ownership vs violence, and the regulations we may need to reduce the latter as a consequence of the former. I have my own thoughts on that. You’ve got yours. Honestly, I’m not opposed to civilian ownership of firearms generally…but… I also think that there are individuals that likely ought not fucking have firearms within easy reach! (Um…duh.) My thoughts? Maybe overly simple…

  1. To own a firearm, I think a person should be required to have specific training on the use and safety practices of each individual type of firearm they wish to own. No exemptions. Pass a fucking test. (There don’t seem to be many objections to the requirement to pass a test to drive a vehicle… just saying.)
  2. To own a firearm, I think a person should be required to be licensed for that firearm in their state – and I think the training requirement and knowledge test isn’t enough; get a mental health “physical”, and demonstrate that you are rationally and emotionally fit to have that weapon. (People routinely have to pass a physical exam to get a commercial driver’s license, or a psychological screening to work in some environments – how is this any different?)
  3. To own a firearm, I think a person should have to carry specific insurance against the chance that their firearm is misused, used in a crime, or accidentally injures someone. (Again, own a car? You’ve got insurance. Own a home? You’ve got insurance. Own a business? I bet you’ve also got insurance.)
  4. One last detail – I don’t think “open carry” is appropriate everywhere, and should be explicitly prohibited for civilians. I think “concealed carry” should be heavily restricted. If your firearm is a “home defense” weapon, keep it at home. If it is a hunting or sporting firearm, keep it secured until you go hunting, or lock it up at the gun club where you do your target shooting.

I’m just saying, I see a huge difference between responsible gun ownership and every ass clown with an agenda having “a right” to have a gun. I don’t understand why any potentially responsible gun owner would object to 1. getting training and passing a test, 2. passing a mental health screening to ensure emotional fitness and ability to assess risks, 3. having insurance to protect themselves financially against any potential bad outcome associated with their firearm, or 4. not carrying their firearm in places where firearms ought not be. What am I missing?

Oh. I know. I know what I’m missing; it’s a misleading question. What I am “missing” is that there are quite a few angry or emotionally wounded individuals who know they are, who want a gun knowing they are potentially at risk of using it inappropriately – or even explicitly intending to – who do not want their “rights” restricted. There are a lot of other folks who just don’t even want to have to deal with the question “should I really have a gun?”, because they have doubts. My next question is – why would we ever let those people make the decisions regarding access to firearms, for everyone?

Too often I read the news, and someone says “obtained the gun legally”, followed somewhere by “could not have predicted…”, when, actually, it’s often far too predictable, because that eventual killer started out as angry, violent at home (or known to have expressed violent ideations on some forum or another), and struggling with their overall emotional wellness. Yes, we fucking could have known – someone probably did know. Maybe someone even reported the individual to law enforcement because they did know, and were concerned, and tried to do the right thing? How horrific is that? To have the solution within such easy reach… and just let it happen all over again?

Maybe get the fuck up out of women’s reproductive decision-making for one fucking legislative season and work on something that really does need (and have) a solution?

Wow. It feels good to get that off my chest. Thanks for reading. Please write and phone your legislators. Ask them to stop being dishonest assholes about this issue and develop some realistic, responsible gun ownership laws. This is not a partisan issue; I promise you none of the slaughtered children were Republicans or Democrats.

I woke in a sweat, uncomfortable and shaking, tearing my consciousness from a nightmare that I had gotten pregnant – at 60, post-menopause – and unable to terminate my terribly risky and thoroughly unwanted pregnancy because the law had changed, and my bodily autonomy as a human being was utterly lost. My heart was pounding. I paced restlessly for a moment or two, feeling vaguely unsettled and with a persistent “uncomfortable” feeling in my guts.

I laid back down, fighting sensations very much at odds with each other; the sweats and discomfort, the fatigue and sleepiness. I felt peculiarly averse to going back to sleep. I wasn’t exactly nauseous… but I felt suspiciously as if I might feel better if I got sick and got past it.

Predictably enough, I was quite sick moments later. Something I ate apparently did not agree with me. The stressful nightmare was likely a byproduct of the combination of physical and emotional discomfort – one from whatever I ate that did not agree with me, the other from the recently leaked not-quite-official-yet Supreme Court document regarding the likely end of Roe v Wade. My physical discomfort was greatly eased by vomiting. My emotional discomfort… well, it’s no surprise that it persists.

…Tell me again why someone besides me, myself, has anything to say about whether or not I carry a pregnancy to term? I’ve chosen to be childless. Period. Seriously. I did not want to be a mother. Why would my choice be out of my hands? When I hear people spouting bullshit talking points about the sacredness of life from the moment of conception, I reliably find myself wondering how they are so easily able to overlook the sacredness of the life of the pregnant person, herself? How do they justify what is fundamentally a position that states women should be coercively required – forced – to bear a child? Forced to bring a pregnancy to term that they do not want. Forced to endure a potentially life-threatening pregnancy for months. Forced, potentially, to go through all that and the trauma of giving up a child for adoption in order to avoid motherhood? How is that acceptable?

I hear a lot of religious arguments against abortion. My thoughts on that are basically… by all means, if your faith restricts you from terminating a pregnancy, definitely do not do that, then. I get it. Your religious freedoms absolutely permit that choice for you. My religious beliefs do not in any way restrict me from choosing to end a pregnancy. My religious freedoms should ensure that I continue to have access to a full measure of reproductive medical services – including abortion. I know, it probably sounds like I am taking this damned personally for a woman on the other side of menopause… doesn’t even affect me, directly, right? I am taking this personally. Having abortion available to me ensured I was able to choose to be childless by intent. My choice. I was able to graduate high school. I was able to join the Army once I did. Both of those would have been beyond my reach, without having been able to terminate a pregnancy while I was in high school. I had birth control measures available. I used them. My birth control failed – which is not uncommon. I was fortunate to live at a time when abortion was available to me, when I needed it.

I needed to get that off my mind. Thank you. If I’ve upset you, I regret the distress I’ve caused you. Not enough to change (or withhold) my thoughts on this topic, but it isn’t my intention to cause you suffering if we disagree.

…But… can anyone tell me why it seems acceptable to tell someone that they must be forced to bear a child against their will, or potentially under life-threatening circumstances? Why is the not-yet-viable-outside-the-womb fetus “life” worthy of respect and value – but the living breathing human person with that fetus in their body is less so? I don’t get it. Like it or not, that’s really what is being proposed; forcing people who do not want to bear a child to go through that process because someone else is not okay with an abortion that they have nothing to do with at all. Yes, I’m unreasonably angry about this, and taking it personally. It feels personal.

It’s late. My guts are no longer churned up. I’m no longer sweating. My breathing is relaxed and even. It’s quiet in these wee hours, and I am alone with my thoughts in the night. I’m okay, though. No despair. Just quiet. There’s no stress to these sleepless hours; tomorrow I return home to the welcoming embrace of my Traveling Partner. I’m definitely homesick. I’m eager to be at home all through the month of June.

A yawn unexpectedly splits my face. I’m tired and sleepy. Time to try that sleep thing, again. Tomorrow is a new day, and plenty soon enough for new beginnings. 🙂

Awake. Okay with it.

I woke thirsty. Drank water. My neck felt twisted and my shoulder felt cramped. I did the exercises from my recent physical therapy work.

My tinnitus is loud in this quiet. I listen to it. I listen to my heartbeat. I listen to my even, relaxed breathing. For a long while, it seemed like. I realize I am drifting in and out of my dreams. I am dreaming that I am awake. Realizing this wakes me – the sound of a single startled out loud laugh breaks the stillness.

I sit up, check the time and write these few words. I sit quietly for some little while…

I guess I am for sure sleepy enough to sleep, at this point… I suppose I’ll do that next.

G’damn the world is a scary messed up place right now! Politicians legislate hate – instead of building a society founded on the noble principles they claim to espouse. Human beings killing each other – as though they have any right to take those lives. Sometimes it’s up close, personal, intentional – sometimes it’s as impersonal as a government taking what it cares to take. The lives lost? Human. Human lives. Wasted potential. Lost loved ones. Where is the “humanity” in that loss or that waste? We could do better. By “we”, I mean – you and I. I could do better. Couldn’t you?

“Be the change you wish to see in the world.” We’ve heard that. Read it. Said it out loud. Maybe have it on a coffee mug, t-shirt, or bumper sticker. What are you doing about that? Are you making a point to treat your partner(s), family, and friends better? Are you making a point to pay into systems that do real good in the world? Are you voting to improve the laws that govern your community? Are you taking time to lift others up? I’m not telling you what to do, or how to do it, or when, or whether, or anything like that… I’m just wondering, myself, sitting here, where to turn my attention, my dollars, my effort, and my time. I already know there are verbs involved.

I’m sitting here sipping a glass of clean water, feeling grateful to have the access to clean safe drinking water. Even in America, that’s not guaranteed. I’m fortunate. Fortunate to have pretty good city water. Fortunate to have a partner who is skilled, handy, and cares enough to add additional water filtration so we have water that “feels fresh” and tastes good, reliably available any time.

There’s a small bright yellow bird hopping about in the pear tree beyond the window. I practice safe garden practices that don’t put the wildlife at risk. My neighbors maintain those pear trees with care. Pretty – but also a lovely habitat for that little yellow bird. Fruit later. Habitat now. Choices make changes.

…Choices make changes…

My garden is coming together. The unexpected flurry of snow today doesn’t seem to be holding anything back, so far. I’m making a garden. Making change in this small landscape that is ours. It reflects the “make change” attitude my partner and I seem to be taking, generally. He’s in the shop, working on projects. Useful. Beautiful. I’ll be in the garden, on and off, pulling weeds, planting seeds, making change. Feed the family – feed the soul.

Lately I’ve been pretty blown away by my Traveling Partner’s willingness – eagerness – to “make change”. Our life improves thereby. Our partnership improves, too. Life feels pretty good here within the confines of our little corner of suburbia, here on the edge of agriculture, on the outskirts of small town living, not quite “out in the country”. I love it here… and still see opportunities for positive change. I could do better. Do more. Do differently. Sometimes it isn’t about big changes. Small strategic, sustainable changes are cumulative over time. Plant one seed – grow one plant. Plant a bunch of seeds – grow more plants. Plant those seeds with an eye for placement, and willingness to nurture them, tend them, watch over them… grow a garden. Feed the family. Feed the soul. Make change.

…I think it’s that simple.

I’ll be in the garden. Beginning again. Thinking about change.

I woke abruptly, wide awake in the wee hours. Bad dreams, already unrecalled. I am okay with that. There is limited value in remembering nightmares.

I woke feeling parched and restless. I got up long enough to get a drink of water and attempted to return immediately to slumber. Yeaaaaaah… That’s not working out so far. lol

My head aches. My tinnitus is loud, chiming and ringing in my ears. I sit up to write for a few minutes, laptop dimmed, sipping on a glass of water. I am damp with sweat, whether left behind from my dreams or too many blankets I don’t know.

I would sleep if I could, but that won’t happen staring into the glow of a monitor. I will set this aside, meditate and focus on my breath, until sleep overtakes me once more. It’s time to begin again. 🙂