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Go Deeper

February 16, 2025 //
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Don’t trust “AI”. Think for yourself. Go deeper than the superficial, likely error prone, potentially copyright violating, plagiaristic “AI” summary of unknown bias. You can definitely do better without that kind of “help”.

Think I’m perhaps overreacting just a bit? Test it with a search on something simple such as a search for the synonyms of a term you know well. I used “meditate” for my example. Among the many “synonyms” offered, the “AI” answer included terms that are not synonymous with “meditate” at all, and one of these being particularly misleading: ruminate. Rumination is a wholly different mental process, and generally a deeply problematic one for which people may seek mental health care. Meditation isn’t a synonym for rumination, nor is it an antonym. The only thing these two terms really have in common is that they are cognitive processes (or experiences). So, approach “AI” with considerable care and skepticism. It lacks nuance. It cannot understand what you ask, nor it’s own response to your query. It’s just spitting out associated words, based on having been fed a massive quantity of other words. Think for yourself. Do your own homework. Go deeper.

… You’ll surely regret it if you lose those skills…

Walking with my thoughts, no “AI” required.

I woke to my artificial sunrise at a comfortably early hour and headed to my favorite weekend trail. It was already daybreak when I arrived and I was in no great hurry. There was no traffic, the drive was peaceful and easy. The moments between then and now have been filled with solitary joy, unbothered by the troubles of the world. There’s time for that later, no need to let it encroach on my peace of mind right now. (Which is likely true more often than it isn’t.)

I set off down the trail happily, content to be alone with my thoughts as dawn came. I listened to the geese overhead, and watched the early morning mumurations of flocks of birds that roosted over night in the oaks along the marsh trail. There’s no snow left from last week’s winter weather and it rained during the night. Mists cling to the ground here and there, and obscure the view of distant hills. The morning air is still and mild, not warm but definitely not cold either. I walked on.

By the time I get back to the car it is daylight. The morning is well underway. A new day. The little birds are noisy in the trees. I catch myself prematurely thinking over what I hope to get done today. There’s no need, not yet. There’s time for that later. I promise myself a good cup of coffee at home, after my Traveling Partner wakes and lets me know he’s up.

A soft rain begins to fall. It’s time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, Healthy Living, inspiration, Logic & Reason, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Practices, solo hiking, The Art of Being, winter, Words

The Unforgiving Path

February 15, 2025 //
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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.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, grief, Healthy Living, joy, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, The Art of Being, Uncategorized, winter

Love

February 14, 2025 //
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Valentine’s Day. Pretty serious “Hallmark holiday”, I know. It’s also, paradoxically, a wonderful thing to see a celebration of carnal and romantic love on a holiday calendar mostly controlled by fairly repressed, repressive, puritannical minds. It’s about the love, not the candy, not the cards, not the children in classrooms exchanging tokens and favors years before they have any capacity for romantic love (and isn’t that just a little weird?). I’ve said it before – all of it. Worth repeating, but maybe not for re-writing. lol

So much love it regularly spills onto canvas. 🙂

It is about the love.

I slept in. Snowy morning, no work, cozy quiet home – it’s lovely. My Traveling Partner woke about the same time I did. I made breakfast and coffee, we enjoyed the moment together. He gave me a little something for the holiday, I added something to the shop that he wanted very much. It isn’t about that, though, it’s about the love. It’s not about the breakfast together. It’s not about the gifts (we often don’t give each other anything at all). The love stands on its own, enduring and sweet and deep and passionate and warm and nurturing.

Love, smiles, coffee – a pleasant start to the day doesn’t have to be fancy.

How do I know it’s love? How does anyone know? I’ve been wrong before – most of us are wrong about love eventually. It’s easy to mistake lust for love. To mistake fondness for love. To confuse codependence with love. To confuse habit with love. Funny (strange) how easily we’re wrong about love, when it is so incredibly important to creating a life to thrive in. So… how do I know this is love? Because I’ve got options, and I’m comfortable with that knowledge – and I’m here because here is where I most want to be. Same is true for my Traveling Partner, and I feel comfortably confident in that, too. We’re here because here is what we choose, because we want to be here. Together on this journey. Love. Neither of us “has to be here”. Neither of us is trapped in this relationship or this life – we could walk on if we chose to. Options. It’s not tragic. It’s not a threat. It’s just real. We choose each other out of love. It’s not always perfect or perfectly easy. We’re individual human beings with our own perspective, our own experiences behind us, our own thoughts on life, love, and the world. Sometimes we disagree. Sometimes we hurt too much to be kind or patient. We still go right on loving each other.

Is love a journey or a destination? Or… is love a verb?

I have a love for this particular human being that has exceeded my understanding of what love could be. I enjoy that, and I work to live up to what love requires. My Traveling Partner is my best friend, and my muse. My enduring source of encouragement, and perspective that isn’t my own. He brings balance and fun to a life that might otherwise lack it (have you met me?). I often think about “how we got here” – more than I think about “where we’re going”. I am surprised that our paths crossed more than once in our busy lives, and that we are so connected now. Love endures. I’m glad that it does. I’m grateful.

Be love. It’s a choice. Love is a verb.

I’m glad I didn’t let myself stay trapped in relationships that weren’t built on love. The best gift I’ve ever given myself has been freedom from bad relationships – the choices to walk on. Sometimes I’ve been too slow to make those choices, holding on to hope for too long, but I did get there. Love is worth working towards, and worth choosing. No substitute is adequate – better to have nothing than to endure less than real love (my opinion).

Love matters most.

I smile to myself and finish my coffee. I grin when I see the plush “mochi cat” pillow-toy my beloved gave to me – reminds me how much I am loved. I don’t know what the future may hold, but I hope that it holds a lot more of this. The love. However long love endures, I am grateful to have had it. There’s nothing else that feels like this.

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Categories Allegories, Art, art and the artist, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, joy, Love, meditation, Moments, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being, The Big 5, winter, Words

What’s Next?

February 13, 2025 //
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I sip my coffee quietly, head aching. Back aching. Sort of “waiting on the next moment”, in the morning stillness. No walk, no commute, this morning, there are ice storms in the weather forecast and my Traveling Partner asked me to work from home, rather than worry about my safety on the road. So far this morning, the temperature is unexceptional, there is no rain falling (freezing or otherwise), and it’s a dry and clear winter morning. I did sleep in, though, which was quite nice.

My beloved wakes, and asks me if I would make his coffee and some breakfast? I step away from my desk, unsurprised, and do so, feeling contented and loved. He seems to be in a decent mood, but I can tell he’s also in pain. I remind myself to be patient and kind as the day wears on. As I make his coffee, I am reminded that the dishes need doing (hard to avoid that reminder; they’re in the sink, and I dislike that so intensely it’s hard to put words to it), and also that I have a prescription to pick up at the pharmacy if the weather holds out. Later. Later. I make myself some oatmeal, and get back to my desk and let my just-woke-up partner finishing waking up while he enjoys his breakfast.

It’s an ordinary enough morning, for one built on exceptions to the routine. In spite of the pain I’m in, I’m in a good mood, and feel pretty well-rested. Funny how much difference good sleep can make, isn’t it? I breathe, exhale, and relax. I take my morning medication. I eat my oatmeal. Walnuts and dried fruit with a bit of ginger, this morning, and it’s pretty good. My coffee is excellent. Good beans. Careful pour over that I made myself. It is, of course, precisely the way I like it. lol Sometimes little satisfying rituals, like making a cup of coffee “just so”, can be so intensely soul-nourishing. Definitely a fond practice, for me, although too often I rush through things or grab whatever coffee is near at hand and call it good enough – it’s not at all the same experience as taking the time and care to do it skillfully, with intention. There’s something to be learned in such things. Will I ever learn it? I hope I at least keep practicing. lol

I sip my coffee, grateful to have it. I am grateful for this warm cozy home, and the sound of my Traveling Partner getting his morning started in the other room. I’m grateful for this work space, which my partner set up with me in mind, measuring things and getting the ergonomics just right for me so I would be most comfortable, even on long work days. I’m grateful for the convenience and warmth of “quick cooking” oatmeal, and a pantry stocked with nuts and dried fruits and things with which to prepare meals. I am fortunate. It’s worth a moment of gratitude, however ordinary these things may seem. Running water. Indoor plumbing. A gas fireplace. Carpets and rugs over well-maintained floors. Electric lighting. You too? Probably – for most of these things – they aren’t all that out of the ordinary for a family in a small suburban home in the United States. It’s not a lavish life of luxury, generally speaking, although I have some things other people may not have for themselves, there are also a great many things some people have that I go without. There’s a variety of human experiences. I’ve lived worse off than I do now. Some people are by far better off than I find myself. It’s not a race or a competition, and I’m content to simply find my joy in sufficiency, and appreciate what I’ve got, without striving aggressively for luxuries “within view” but beyond my means. This is not a time for that. (Is it ever? Greed is an ugly quality.) There’s no knowing what the future holds, so I enjoy this “now” with appreciation and gratitude.

I sip my coffee and think about “the future”. With so much chaos, destruction, and despair in the world (and in this country) right now, it’s something I worry over a bit. What does the future hold? How do we create a world in which everyone can thrive? The wealth of the world would provide for us all, if it were not held in the hands of a small few who do not make use of it, just pile it up and point to their pile and remind us all how very privileged they are, while others struggle and suffer (and often at the hands of those very wealthy hoarders of privilege). It’s not a good look. I keep expecting humanity to do better. (Don’t you?)

I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s time to start the day. Time to do my own best, moment to moment. It’s time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, joy, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being, War and News of War, winter

Toxic Frustration

February 12, 2025 //
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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.

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Categories Allegories, anger, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, Love, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being, winter
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