Archives for category: women

I’m sipping my coffee – still too hot to drink – and thinking about writing. I’m not really writing quite yet, no ideas. I had a thought yesterday afternoon…another yesterday evening…and as I drifted off to sleep last night, a great idea for a title came to mind (I don’t remember it now). It’s that kind of morning. I am “an empty vessel” this morning. This is rare for me. I nearly always sit down to an empty page, and simply write. Another person might reach for some app or write a prompt for an LLM… I just sit sipping my coffee and letting my thoughts, such as they are, guide my fingers.

I am a human being, writing for other human beings.

I am generally employed with companies that are “AI forward” in some significant measure. AI is the new “revenue engine”. Investors and shareholders want to see “AI” in the quarterly presentation decks and annual meetings. They don’t necessarily understand it, or have any idea what “AI” really means in any given context. Companies sometimes take advantage of this, using the language and terms of AI in marketing materials, but without changing anything in their product, services, or app. In this environment, most people pay lip service to the AI hype, whether or not they are impassioned “true believers”. In my own role, I consider myself fortunate; it’s part of the job to take a skeptical view, to find the flaws, to be watchful and cautious, and to reduce risk. I rarely use AI in my work, instead I scrutinize it in the work of others. This suits me, and I enjoy it. I am not an AI fan, and I am not interested in hype. I maintain sufficient proficiency with AI to be able to detect the problems – and I’m focused on those. Can AI do fast work? Sure. It’s superficial and rather same-y, though, and it makes a lot of mistakes (and it absolutely makes shit up and cites references to work that does not exist) and has no comprehension; it does not have an “understanding” of a single word it produces. Worse still, as it works it degrades the working skills of the users who seek its services. Human primate intelligence does not benefit from the use of AI tools.

Brain rot is a real concern

I absolutely do not use AI to write. I like writing. I like seeing words creeping across the page that have come from my own thoughts, to the page by way of my skillful hands on the keyboard. I enjoy the rhythm and the sound. I enjoy the sensation of communicating and of “being heard”. I have born witness to writers using AI and seen the damage to their ability to write unassisted, as time goes on. Creators who create without AI risk giving up much if they capitulate to using it. Thanks, I’d rather not. Creators who exclusively use AI to create are not actually creators at all (imo) – until and unless they learn to create on their own, in the medium of their choice, without an AI crutch. Few seem to – although I don’t know why they would bother, if the point is “make some money”, and the AI slop they generate does so for them.

I sip my coffee and reflect on progress and technology, and whether humanity has a shot at long-term survival in the face of our foolishness, violence, and short-sighted greed. I suspect we do not, and that saddens me. We’re pretty interesting creatures – seems a shame to put ourselves on the path to extinction, but we may be honestly too stupid to be good planetary stewards who work together as a global culture towards a greater good for all. We are too easily divided and controlled by petty bullshit. There are too many greedy billionaires (I realize how redundant that is, as I write the words), too few wellsprings of real wisdom and goodness, and the rest of us are kept distracted by the seeming urgency of earning a living day-to-day, too busy to look up from our present task to see whether the world really is burning, or do much to change that, once we discover that it is.

I wonder where this path leads?..

I sigh to myself. The week is already almost over. If I focus on work, it feels very much as if this time has been empty and rather pointless, to me personally. There is more to my experience (and my humanity) than my work (meaning my “gainful employment” with one corporate overlord or another). I write. I paint. I laugh. I feel. I explore. I contemplate. I enjoy walking beaches and forest trails. I like the sparkle of glitter, and of seeing the lights of cities from a great height. I enjoy a walk with no destination. I like a drive from wherever I am to some distant horizon. I enjoy a few minutes of idle conversation with a stranger – and I like walking away from it, into some lovely solitary moment. I read and I think, and I seek out things to see. I write poetry. I paint sunrises and moments by the fireside. I have deep discusses with friends, solving nothing in a practical way, but deepening our connection. I love deeply, and enjoy a profound partnership with my beloved Traveling Partner. (Isn’t my capacity for love more important than my capacity for staring into spreadsheets day after day?) I have endured much, and I continue to be and to become. I am one human being, being human. No AI needed (or wanted).

There’s a work day ahead, and I amuse myself by recalling a favorite way of demonstrating AI flaws (I find), which is using it to summarize big group meetings. For anyone who was at the meeting (and paying attention), the tells and flaws are obvious; AI is sometimes (often)(commonly) very wrong about what was said, who said it, and what the “take aways” from the discussion are. It doesn’t reason or comprehend, so it doesn’t actually “understand” what the salient points of a discussion were. It’s just playing fill in the blank and counting up words. AI is “stupid fast” – meaning that it is both stupid, and also very fast. Idiomatic language, accents, and variations in individual clarity of speech result in some hilariously “off” transcriptions of conversations. It would be quite humorous, if it weren’t so terrifying that in spite of these limitations people are using these tools and making decisions that affect real people with the slop turned out by AI. Yeesh. Do better, people. The survival of humanity likely depends on you being smart enough to preserve (and develop) your own cognitive skills and tools, your ability to reason and make good decisions, and your actual sentience. Choose wisely. Take the time to learn to do the things you want to do, instead of trying to cheat your way through life and work with fucking “AI” (it isn’t intelligent, at all).

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I let all that go and sit enjoying my coffee here in a real physical space, listening to the sounds of voices in the background (real people busy with real things). I exist in this physical real place. Don’t you? (What are you doing to improve it? Anything? The clock is ticking…) I smile a good-morning to the barista who greets me in passing, and waggle my fingertips at her as something like a wave, without lifting my hands from the keyboard. Actual human primates observed in their natural environment. I chuckle, aware that we are not necessarily “domesticated” creatures, and that our behavior can be wildly unpredictable, even dangerous. Funny that we adopt such airs of grandeur and dignity, so often – we can be vicious, vile, messy, and prone to casually spreading disease. I sigh to myself, hoping to do a little better at being the person I most want to be today, compared to yesterday. Incremental change over time is effective, if slow. I become what I practice; there’s no choice there, it is what it is. The choice is in what I choose to practice.

What are you practicing? Will that help you become the person you most want to be? The journey is the destination. Is it time to begin again?

Seems to be very effective so far… probably doesn’t hurt that the path is mine, and that I choose it myself.

It’s easy to focus on the negative, isn’t it? Whatever is amiss right now, whether here or far away, is often so compelling we dive headlong into that mess, and give up on all the good things going on, too. We get mired in some bit of unpleasantness, large or small, or let conflict live in our heads, and forget to live our lives through any other lens. Yesterday was hard. I had a nasty headache that persisted through the day, I was cross from the moment I woke until I finally called it a night. It’s rare for me to be stuck in a bad mood for so long. I’m glad I woke without it.

Look, I’m not saying don’t protest injustice (please be safe, and please protest peacefully), nor am I discouraging you from speaking up about how you feel or what you are going through. (Use your words! Speak truth to power.) I am pointing out that the picture is nearly always bigger than the moment any one of us is in right now, and there are opportunities to get to a more positive outlook, and a better state of being. In some cases, it may take a night of good sleep, in others maybe a moment of perspective is all that is needed? You results may vary – I know mine do. lol Adulting is hard sometimes. I’m grateful that with expectation setting and taking care with my words throughout the day, the consequences of yesterday’s crappy headspace ended up being generally good; a deeper connection with my Traveling Partner, and no one having to go to bed mad or with hurt feelings (as far as I could tell). Win. Small wins matter; sometimes small wins are all you get.

Sometimes it’s a good idea to take a minute, and sort things out.

This morning, I’m thinking about “what’s good?” – because I spent too much time yesterday focused on the things that were off, or going wrong, or just seem crappy and unfair. My Traveling Partner was correct all those years ago, when he pointed out to me that my negativity was doing me real harm (in addition to being unpleasant to be around, generally). “Toxic positivity” is not the solution; this is not “fake it until you make it” territory, though speaking in terms of practices may suggest that it somehow is. It is more to do with perspective, and balance, and self-awareness, and consideration, and compassion – and the very real likelihood that most of the time, in most circumstances, things are not as bad as they may seem in the moment. Emotions like sorrow and anger and frustration are still valid useful emotions that tell us something about our experience. The way out is through – squashing our emotions does not resolve them. Forbidding ourselves to experience our feelings in order to more carefully craft a feigned pleasant exterior and a smile suited only to commercial purposes is not emotionally healthy. There is another path. Savor the small pleasures and simple joys. Enjoy each fleeting moment of delight unreservedly. Share kindness. Assume positive intent. Don’t take things personally. When hard times hit, the resilience you’ve built over time will sustain you. We become what we practice. (Practice calm, we become calmer over time. Practice freaking out over small things or losing your temper over small mishaps, we become less able to manage our emotions in a healthy way, and unable to maintain our perspective on events. Seems like we’ve got some choices.) I sip my coffee and think about it awhile longer. Am I satisfied with how I handled my crappy day yesterday? Mostly. Could I have done better? Probably. I have today ahead of me to do that; it’s a whole new experience, filled with new moments.

It is an ordinary enough Tuesday. I may even work from home. My Traveling Partner suggested it. I woke way too early for that, though, and I did not want my wakefulness to wake everyone else. I dressed and slipped away into the darkness – hopefully without waking everyone.

What’s good? This cup of coffee, actually. It’s pleasant, mellow, and no bitterness detected – characteristics I’d like very much to develop and deepen, as a person. I think most days I get pretty close. Progress. I think about the work on-site annual strategy meeting that I am not attending in person this week, afterall. Sure, I could get all wound up in whether not being there in person may “hold me back” professionally… or… I could focus on what’s good; I’m home, available to care for my Traveling Partner when he needs me, and not faced with the inconvenience, cost, fatigue, or risk of illness that inevitably comes with professional travel. What I choose to focus on may set the tone for many moments ahead of me. It’s not a new lesson for me – I knew it yesterday when I was mired in my bleak mood. I struggled to make an effective change, not because I did not know I could choose otherwise, but because making that choice in the first place was so fucking difficult in that moment. (Moments pass.) I’m not inclined to understate how difficult it can be to choose change, to go another direction, or to soothe an angry heart. Sometimes it is hard, and my results vary. I keep practicing because I keep improving through practice. It gets better. It gets easier. It gets more reliable – until at some point, on some detail of behavior, thinking, or character, I will find that I have changed.

Walking my own path, one step at a time.

What’s good? Right now the warmth and cameraderie of this chain cafe! It’s a silly thing, but heart-warming; the baristas here have gotten to know me by name, and are familiar with my early morning coming and going on these work days. I write quietly in the corner, people-watching a bit now and then, sipping coffee and reflecting on life. If I don’t come by, they notice. If I am wearing a frown for no obvious reason, they ask if I’m okay. It’s a very human experience of community. It’s good. I enjoy it, even when I’m headache-y and cross. Yesterday it was one of the highpoints of my morning – just that moment of recognition that I was not at my best and clearly having a difficult morning. “How’s the morning?” backed up with a concerned look, and authentic interest in the answer hits differently. I reflect on authenticity and sincerity. A much younger me might have sneered dismissively at the suggestion that these are character qualities with real value. That younger me was wrong about a lot of other shit, too. I chuckle with fond affection and a smile with a little sorrow at the corners; we don’t know what we don’t know, and we think we know a lot more than we actually ever could.

What’s good? Simple pleasures, like a hot shower, or a good cup of coffee. Unexpected delights, like a gift on a non-birthday, or a letter (or email) from a faraway friend. A pleasant moment over a cup of tea at the edge of my garden in Spring? Definitely good. An unexpected compliment is also good. I sip my coffee and think of as many little things that feel good to me as I can, and I turn those around “in the other direction” – so many are things I can easily do and deliver that moment of joy and delight to someone else. I smile thinking about it. Maybe this evening is a good one to write letters (or emails) to far away friends? Perhaps it is a good one to enjoy a shower with my Traveling Partner – or share a good cup of coffee together in the evening (I could pick up some decaf for me)? Is there some little thing I could give to a friend to demonstrate my affection? Perhaps I could invite my pleasant neighbor over for a cup of tea? The joy we give others is returned to us multiplied. There are verbs involved. Choices to make. Actions to follow-through on. Living life is not a passive process.

Seems to be very effective so far… probably doesn’t hurt that the path is mine, and that I choose it myself.

I sip my coffee. I think to message my Traveling Partner to let him know I will return home later, after he wakes, to work from home. Useful expectation-setting that I don’t expect him to see until he wakes later. Minutes later, he replies; he hasn’t slept as well as I had hoped, apparently, but lets me know he’s going back to sleep. I hope he does and that his rest is deep and satisfying. I know how rare that it is, and how much he needs it.

My coffee has begun to cool. There is a bossa nova playing in the background, reminding me of my grandparents and summers at their house; the favored radio station playing there was some sort of smooth jazz, and often featured samba and bossa nova music. It’s not music that I greatly enjoy, neither do I dislike it – it definitely fills me with nostalgia, and memories of a different time and place.

Meditation over coffee… like a sunrise in my thoughts.

What’s good with you? Take a moment to think it over (no need to get back to me, though I’d certainly make time to enjoy your comment and to reply, it’s really for you more than for me), especially if the here and now of your experience is difficult. Give yourself a moment to appreciate the things that are good. Let it lift you up and color your perspective. Go ahead and begin again. 😀

I was surprised to see a a shooting star streak across the sky, from behind me as I drove up the highway towards the trail I would be walking. It wasn’t yet daylight, still early, quite dark, and there it was, as if leading me onward. I always wish on a shooting star. My wishes silently tumbled into one another, as I listed them in my head hurriedly, hoping to finish before the star had fallen and faded away…

…I wish I had more wisdom that I seem to, and better judgement…

…I wish people would be kinder to each other, more open to each other’s differences, more compassionate…

…I wish there were no yelling, no raised voices, no gunfire, no killings, no violence…

…I wish I’d do a better job at hurrying up and becoming the woman I most want to be – that I know I can be (with practice)…

…I wish I would listen more deeply, with greater patience, and more resilience in the face of strong emotion…

…I wish life felt simple and easy more of the time…

…I wish there more time…

…In the instant between when I spotted a shooting star passing overhead as I drove up the highway and finishing a hurried list of wishes, the star streaked forward, and began to fall, before it sort of seemed to burst like fireworks ever so briefly, like a punctuation mark at the end of a sentence, and it was gone. A fleeting moment of hope, and a wish (or two) for more, or better, or… other than what is. A futile child’s game, I know. Wishing doesn’t change reality at all. It takes much more work than that.

My walk was lovely. Nice morning for it, although it was quite cold. It’s later now. Eventually my arthritis pain caught up with my headache. Strange day. It began well. I felt quite loved, cherished, and appreciated…until suddenly I didn’t. Humans being human. It’s hard sometimes. People say unkind things they don’t mean to people very dear to them, or deliver very ordinary things in terribly unpleasant tones of voice, and all the love in the world doesn’t change that. Hurt feelings… hurt. I remind myself to “let small shit stay small” and not to take things personally. It still stings when someone dear says something hurtful. Resilience is helpful, sure, but g’damn I’d really like it to matter less. I’d like to hear the words, reflect on the message, and not have it fired at me as an emotional weapon. Or… I’d like not to feel it in that way. That’s the not taking it personally piece, and it’s a difficult practice. Human primates take so much shit so very personally.

“Emotion and Reason” 18″ x 24″ acrylic w/ceramic and glow details, 2012

Human primates are emotional creatures. We feel. Our feelings matter. The complicated bit, for me, is often simply to avoid fusing with the emotional experience of my dear one (whoever that may be in the moment) – to maintain my separate self, my own perspective, my own values and awareness and agency. Getting it right means being fully accountable for my words and my actions – if I’ve royally fucked up (or if I haven’t), and even if the person I’m talking to just doesn’t see it from the same perspective at all. How does that work? I definitely need more practice.

I could bitch more. I could go on and on about it awhile. I could remain stuck here, angry, frustrated, vexed, hurt, wishing for more or different, or for someone to fix something. That’s not how change actually works. Just sitting around wishing doesn’t change anything at all. There are verbs involved. Boundaries to be set. Limitations to be expressed. Hurt feelings to be soothed. Amends to be made. Reality gets real, sometimes, and crying about it isn’t supremely helpful (it’s just a bit of stress relief). It’s important to use my words, to speak gently, to listen deeply… sooo many verbs. Choices. Actions. I need more practice.

I’m tired and my head hurts. I remind myself this is one moment of many, and that it has been a lovely day but for one moment. I breathe, exhale, and relax, and try to keep things in perspective. The way out is through. The lessons aren’t “easy” – or there’d be nothing to learn. I give myself a moment, and then I begin again.

My sleep was poor last night. Frequently interrupted by one noise or another, but also sometimes just because I simply woke up for no obvious reason. It’s fine. I’ve had a problematic relationship with sleep all my life. I finally woke at a time sufficiently close to the time I generally get up that I went ahead and got up. Would it be coffee or walking? The forecast suggests coffee – another freezing morning. I dress and head out, hoping that I avoided waking anyone, and grateful that in spite of my restless night I’m not feeling groggy.

Each time I woke during the night, I’d turn over or shift the covers or fluff my pillow seeking new comfort, eventually returning to sleep (once waking from a deep sleep surprised to find myself waking; I had been dreaming I was awake, laying there in the darkness lol). I wasn’t stressed or anxious over being wakeful, it happens. Insomnia lost a lot of its power over me when I stopped being anxious about the insomnia itself, or the lost hours of sleep. (Now and then, if wakefulness overtakes me more thoroughly, I just get up, read or write or paint or meditate for awhile, but last night wasn’t that kind of night.) I woke often, returned to sleep eventually, and repeated that experience several times during the night, about every 90 minutes or so. I’m okay for most values of okay, in spite of that. I couldn’t get by on this kind of shitty sleep indefinitely (although I have in years past). I may be tired to the point of being fairly dull or actually stupid later today; I remind myself to get important cognitively dense tasks and work requiring focus knocked out early in the day.

Perspective is a big deal; the spiders in life are not actually as big as they sometimes look.

The restless night causes me less concern that this feeling lately that I “just don’t want to be part of any of this”, and a latent yearning to “walk away” from “all of it”. I know myself pretty well. There’s nothing specifically “wrong” such that resolving that would clear up this feeling, it’s more to do with just not being easily able to get a particular need met well in a way that satisfies it (a need for solitude and a break from emotional labor). I struggle to escape awareness of all the madness going on in the world, and every day there’s some new bit of unbelievable petty unfathomable craziness from the demented elder cohort leading the nation (the cruelty of this adminstration is astonishing and revolting). It stresses me out even to the minmal degree news reaches me at all. (I’m really trying to avoid it for my own sanity.) I’m still – to an extent – in a caregiving role, and present circumstances being what they are (economically, financially, socially…) I can’t just drop everything and check-in to a beachfront hotel, turn my notifications off for a a long weekend, and just paint, and write, and be alone. (In 2023, I could get an off-season room on the coast for $40-$50 per night, right on the beach. Now even off-season rooms are $200 per night at old rundown motels on the other side of the highway, with no view or beach access.) It’s definitely too cold (for me) for camping, too. The time is not now. I’m tied to this experience by the requirements of work and life, the limitations of my circumstances, and I’m reluctant to tell people I care about to fuck off (for awhile) and just leave me alone. I want very much to meet my need for solitude without causing anyone pain or suffering or hurt feelings (creating chaos and drama while seeking to escape chaos and drama defeats the purpose entirely). Anyway, I’m painfully aware that regardless, I’d be dragging my baggage with me, and it is in fact something within myself that I’m seeking to evade, escape, or “fix”. Reliably. I sigh at the inner recognition and acknowledgement. So… what to do about it, though? I sip my coffee and reflect on that awhile.

As with any choice, there are verbs involved.

I find myself feeling sympathetic towards the Anxious Adventurer – this “self-awareness”, and “self-reflection” stuff isn’t without its challenges, and this human journey that is so much about self-discovery and growth is not an easy one. We are each having our own experience on a journey without a map.

Walk your own path, choose your own verbs, and build your own practices.

It is Friday. The weekend is ahead. I breathe, exhale, and relax. A week of working from my employer’s San Francisco office follows the weekend (I fly down Tuesday, return home Friday night). I smile at myself for the tempting thought that I might get some solitary time, if only in the very early morning and in the evenings after work, while I am in San Francisco, but it didn’t work out that way last time at all. The opportunity to collaborate with colleagues in a shared space resulted in longer work hours, and no time alone of note. The company puts us up in a comfortable clean hotel, and I’m grateful for that. I will probably sleep well, but I don’t expect much solitary time, or leisure unless I make a point to carve out time for myself and set very firm boundaries. I smirk at myself knowingly; it’s a coin toss. That’s why I keep practicing; I clearly need the practice. lol

Perspective is sometimes about the view from a singular moment. If I stand somewhere else, doesn’t my perspective change? 🙂

I sigh to myself. I’m okay for most values of “okay”. Life is pretty good, most of the time. Hell, I may not have slept well, but the morning is not as cold as forecast, my headache isn’t bad, my arthritis pain is well-managed – I feel okay. Things could be worse. A lot worse. I’m bitching that I don’t have everything, and can’t satisfy every need I have or soothe every emotion I feel. Shit, we’ve all got problems, right? This journey isn’t effortless or infinitely pleasant, and our “second dart suffering” is the larger share of our suffering for much of our mortal life – and we can make choices that reduce that a lot. I breathe, exhale, and relax, and make a point to let go from clinging to my suffering. In this moment, here, now, things are pretty much fine. Good coffee. Warm cafe. Pleasant music in the background. A weekend just a few hours away. Less than usual physical pain. What is there to suffer over, really? I mean, right here, right now? I’m among the very fortunate; I have a paying job, a cozy home, medical care, potable drinking water, and there are not bombs dropping here, nor am I at high risk of being assaulted or kidnapped by the government thugs roaming our communities in masked packs. Viewed that way, it’s more than a little annoying and self-indulgent to sit here with my hot coffee on a cold day bitching about not being able to get away (from my pleasant life)! I chuckle softly to myself; I am a human being, being quite human.

My coffee has gone cold. Tepid, at least. I don’t really care; I notice and move on. The clock keeps ticking. The music plays on. Daybreak will soon touch the horizon. The pings on my consciousness of various notifications start piling up. Seems like a good moment to begin again. I wonder where this path leads?

Once we choose our path, we’ve still got to walk it. The journey is the destination. 🙂

I’m sipping coffee in the local chain coffee place close to the university library, where I most often work, these days. Work is later. For now, I’m just sipping coffee, and listening to the soft murmur of baristas going about their morning stocking and coffee making, and the sounds of the weird eclectic muzak that plays here. The playlist makes no sense to me, and follows no theme or genre, but it does repeat and I’ve become sufficiently familiar with it over a handful of weeks to easily tune it out.

It’s a cold morning. It is, in fact, freezing. Too cold for walking in the dark on an icy trail overhung with branches that were recently rain-sodden and are now freezing – and potentially at risk of breaking and falling to the ground unexpectedly. I’ll walk later, sometime after the sun is up and warming things a bit.

I mindlessly run my fingers through my hair, which only has the result of making the static electricity in my hair very obvious, lifting stray strands and creating an uncomfortable sensation as my fingers tangle in the hair and the static. I carefully un-muss my hair. The combination of dry cold air, layers of sweaters, and all this hair, adds up to quite a bit of static and things clinging here and there, or being shocked when I touch some door knob. Winter. The static is a distraction. It’s not important at all.

Somewhere far away (Davos), millionaires and billionaires are patting themselves on the backs for what awesome human beings they are, while they enjoy expensive luxuries and plan how to make themselves even more prosperous in the future. Does any real-world good ever come out of billionaires and power-seekers cavorting and collaborating in private meetings in luxury hotels, making plans for the many millions who have no direct input to the goings on? I’m asking because I don’t know. I somehow doubt it. It would require a legitimate desire to improve the lives of others alongside a genuine willingness to bear the cost of doing so. I somehow doubt that sort of equity and change minded thinking is commonplace among those who have the means and connections to rate an invitation. A person does not acquire vast wealth with that kind of thinking. They can afford to pretend that they got where they are without help, on their own, without exploiting the good will, effort, and desperation, of others. Am I bitter? Not exactly, I’m just over pretending such things have real value to people living ordinary lives, or that wealth hoarding is any sort of virtue.

…The World Economic Forum probably had a lot of promise as proposed (maybe it still does), but how rich does an individual have to be to comfortably afford annual membership (something like $50k per year) and attendance at the event in Davos each year (another $20k or so, I’ve read)? Just some perspective; a lot of regular people are canceling various subscription services these days because they just can’t afford them, or having to choose between bills and medical care. They won’t be represented at Davos.

I sigh to myself. Greed is probably the human character trait I find most vile – and sadly very common. It’s not personal, though, and billionaires frolicking in Davos have more or less nothing at all to do with me, here, now. I don’t even grudge them a good time on the slopes, or a lovely time catching up with their peers and colleagues over a coffee in some pleasant Swiss cafe. Such events generate a lot of click-bait, sound bites, podcast discussions, and celebrity photos, but beyond that, what does it have to do with me? I chuckle over my coffee, and let my thoughts move on.

I once took a tour that stopped in Switzerland when I was a young soldier stationed in Germany. I’m grateful to have had the opportunity to see some of Europe, then. The modest costs I often complained about (soldiers are not paid well) were so worth it!

…And my thoughts move on…

I contemplate my general good fortune in life, and who I have been, and who I have become over time.

…And on…

I think about times I’ve traveled here or there over the years, sampling cultures in other countries, seeing sights, enjoying a chance to touch history – the Rodin Museum, the Louvre, and the Museum D’Orsay in Paris, Holocaust memorials in Germany and Czechia, an open air market in Mexico, the underground city in Montreal, the deserts of Saudia Arabia, Kuwait and Iraq, the beauty of Azores, the Cotswolds, Bavaria, and around and about all over the US. I’ve been fortunate to see so much of the world.

…And on…

My thoughts shift gears from places to people, and I think of the friends I’ve enjoyed sharing the journey with over the years. Some were lasting friendships that continue, some that were more fleeting moments to connect and share and then move on as paths diverged.

…And on…

It’s a nice morning to let my mind wander. I’m content with that, this morning. There is no reason to hurry through my coffee or wring more out of this fragile vessel than this moment here, now, requires. The clock ticks on. I smile, filling up on gratitude. Life hasn’t been without it’s hazards or challenges. There have been hard times, maybe there will be again. The company we keep on life’s journey probably matters a lot more than where our journey takes us. I sit thinking about that awhile.

The people matter most; how we treat each other is how we treat the world.

Soon it will be time to begin again.

…the new year is a blank page…