What we choose to consume matters. Fact is, all our choices matter to one degree or another. The results we get from any one choice over any other are reliably different. This is true of the food we eat, the books and periodicals we read, the services we use, the consumer goods we purchase, the platforms we subscribe to, the movies and videos we watch, and the politicians we elect. The tl;dr is that our choices matter, in our own life and in the world.
Businesses succeed or fail on their choices – and on ours as customers and consumers.
Societies rise, develop and fall based on the choices of chosen leaders enacting chosen policies.
We thrive or struggle based on our individual choices, and the choices of those around us.
It’s everything. From the choice of the food we put into our mouths (which could nurture or poison us), to the choice of who is best to lead us, every choice matters, every day, all the time. Are you up to the challenge? Are you ready to make willful, informed, eyes-open choices and also to accept responsibility for the choices you have made?
Are you even making actual choices or are you tumbling randomly through life with your choices being dictated by the opinions of others, or based on the constant media bombardment of advertising and “infotainment”? Are you even thinking your own thoughts, or has your mind been taken over by ideological bullet points, loyalty to party platforms, and AI slop?
…Who even are you?
Dawn of a new day.
As I left town heading for a favorite trail, I saw the beginnings of a beautiful colorful sunrise. I knew I had “missed my moment”. My timing would give me brief views of spectacular color, but no opportunity to do more than watch it as I drove. I faced a lived moment of natural splendor that could be appreciated and enjoyed, but not preserved. That’s okay. Hell, that is the truth of most moments. I don’t fight it. I drive on drinking in the scenery and watching the sunrise evolve from the magenta and luminous pinks to bold bright orange, then fading to hues of peach, salmon, and mauve. Gorgeous. Words don’t capture the moment.
I’m driving. Progress. The finger I had surgery on is still bandaged, but I’m back to my usual pain management, and driving, which feels good. My Traveling Partner suggests I take it easy today. I embrace that suggestion enthusiastically; I’m not quite ready to do housework, with one hand still impaired. He suggested maybe I entertain myself with a drive to the coast after my walk, and I agree that sounds like a great idea. Choices, eh? Today, and every day.
Our perspective on the world is informed through our choices regarding where to turn our attention.
I breathe, exhale, and relax – and set off down the trail after watching the last splashes of the colorful sunrise fade to a new day. Reaching my halfway point, I sit awhile on a handy fence rail at the edge of a meadow. I watch the sunshine light up the oak trees in an adjacent grove. Beautiful. Also choices. I don’t think about every choice I make, in every moment. Some things seem to flow one moment to the next in some determinate “natural” way, but these too are choices, and they are the sort of choices that can easily become problematic; they are not carefully considered and thoughtful. Even some brief pause between actions to consider the options is probably better than being on “autopilot” or following some path as though I were on rails (like a train more than a hike). I think about that as I watch little birds living their moments. “How much do they choose?”, I wonder.
Thinking things over is healthy. Critical thinking skills are worth developing, practicing, and using. It’s quite freeing to make a willful well-considered choice. Having real agency is powerful. These are all practices, and they are choices.
Choices upon choices requiring choices about choices – so many choices! I brush off my jeans as I get to my feet, still thinking about choices and the power we have to choose our path, and even the sort of world we want to live in. Every choice matters, and it’s already time to make the next choice and begin again.
Are you fed up with the deluge of “AI slop” being pushed at you on pretty nearly every platform you look to for information or entertainment, everywhere, all the time now? I know I am. AI “art” isn’t art. AI writing isn’t literature (nor, generally, is it worth reading at all). AI summaries of search results are highly prone to inaccuracies and are often quite ridiculous in spots, and sometimes unreadable. AI content is very often IP theft or plagiarism. It’s pretty awful. AI doesn’t catch its own mistakes; it can’t think, comprehend, or reason.
Hey, good news; there’s no AI here. I’m an actual real person. A human primate. My spelling mistakes, grammatical errors, poor syntax, and occasionally meaning-obscuring overuse of ellipses are 100% human and my own! I sit somewhere in some moment of self-reflection, and compose my actual thoughts, such as they are, using my own words, and I share them with you. Wow. My photos and images are generally my own (at least since I began bringing a camera along with me everywhere and viewing so much of my life through that lens). Music I link to isn’t mine, but I selected it myself, inspired by my experience, and chosen to enhance my writing in some way. I share my own art with you. My “unfiltered” take on life is offered up relatively fearlessly, too. I don’t need AI to do my thinking for me (and neither do you).
It is still possible to choose the content you consume with sufficient care to avoid AI slop, generally. (I block pages and content that are AI generated, once I recognize it – and I’m reliably seeking to determine that quickly. I’m not a fan.) I personally find garbage AI slop seriously cringe, and also don’t want to undermine the value of human content creation by encouraging that crap. I’m an artist. A writer. A photographer. It matters to me to differentiate between created works and “generated” works.
Anyway. No AI here (aside from the one use of it on my About page when ChatGPT launched). Oh, I’m aware of the potential inherent in AI, and professionally I stay current with what AI tools are capable of, presently. I just don’t prefer (or need) to use AI to write. 😆
The world is a fucking mess, eh? It’d be easy to shrug off AI concerns as unimportant, considering everything else going on. If you’re in a safe place, be sure to go outside. Take healthy breaks. Enjoy a moment with a friend. Take a walk. Watch clouds scoot across the sky. Smell flowers. Try a new recipe. Read a book. Learn a skill. Sit in a beautiful garden. Make something. You can live an actual life and form thoughts about those experiences. AI can’t. Enjoy your moments. These mortal lifetimes are fleeting.
I breathe, exhale, and relax. I sit with my coffee, grateful for a new day, and a new opportunity to begin again. I watch the sun rise as the clock ticks on this mortal lifetime. My thoughts are my own, an idea I greatly enjoy.
… I notice the time… already a new moment… already a new beginning… What will I do with it?
The ringing in my ears is loud this morning. I pay it no particular attention; it’s reliably always there and the only thing to do about it is to focus on other things. My hot coffee. The chill of the morning at the edge of a meadow surrounded by forest. The distant sound of traffic on the highway, faint but still audible. Voices. I sigh and lace up my boots. A walk after coffee sounds delightful.
… I slept poorly but it hasn’t caught up with me yet…
Light in the darkness.
I woke several times during the night to pee. I guess I’m adequately hydrated. 😆 Each time I stepped out into the darkness, I paused to gaze at the stars a little while. I could see the Milky Way. I would return, following the short path between my campsite and the restroom, guided by the merry string of colored lights that I hung around my tent, specifically to make it easier to find in the dark. The night didn’t begin to feel cold until shortly before daybreak and I was pretty comfortable, just not sleeping restfully.
… The night felt long…
My walk warmed me up more than my morning coffee did. It’s been mostly uphill, and I wound my way through the trees, stepping carefully where the trail was not well-maintained. I reached my goal; the day use area. It took me longer to get here than I expected, but I wasn’t going for speed, only solitude. Walking to leave the sound of voices behind me, and in this instance quite successfully. There’s no one else here right now. It’s lovely and quiet (except for the tinnitus, which no one else hears).
A new day.
My head aches and I am thinking about more coffee, though I certainly had my usual amount (more than). I look over the park map. This trail? That one? What about this other one? It looks new, since my last visit here (which was 2022, I think). It’s probably early enough to find parking at one of the trailheads for the BVT… I yawn and stretch. It isn’t nap time, yet.
I breathe, exhale, and relax. What is my purpose, here? Meditation. Self-reflection. Setting intentions for this next year of living. This, right now, it isn’t really any if those things in a useful way. The miles of trails do seem to connect me with my sense of purpose. I look out at the horizon and wonder how many miles to those hills? The map suggests that those are in the Tillamook State Forest, and about 16 miles away (as the crow flies). It would be more than an hour to drive there, and about 12 to walk it, according to Maps. I think about how often the thing we seek seems so near, but really isn’t near at all. That’s a useful bit of perspective.
The sun comes out from behind morning clouds and warms me. I remind myself to put my phone on the charger when I get back to camp, as I eye the trail heading back down the hill. I think about heading back, and take another look at the map. Time to begin again.
I’m sipping my coffee and thinking about favorite characters in books, movies, and anime, and what it takes to write a good character, and how the “story arc” of a truly great character pulls me in and gets me invested in the character. I’m thinking about why a good character matters so much. I’m reviewing my own life through the lens of character development, and this journey that is life itself. I’m just one woman, living one mortal lifetime, and honestly I see myself (now) as relatively ordinary in nearly every way. That wasn’t always the case. Dunning and Kruger will have their way with us all. lol When I was young, lacking in life experience, and prone to very poor decision-making, I thought I was the absolute center of my universe, the Big Bad, the main character in every story, and the best choice of human voice to say “all the things”… I was quite mistaken. I grew out of it. lol Reality does not care what I believe.
…Ordinary is okay, nothing wrong with it. “On the average, things are average.” – I’d attribute the quote, but I don’t know who said that (it wasn’t me). I’m not dismissing or discouraging aspirational goals or pursuing one’s ambitions, I’m just saying human primates have a tendency toward grandiosity (whether private or explicitly stated), and we’re mostly just… primates. Fancy fucking big-brain-having apes, that have chosen to build and to make, and have learned to wear clothing and how to set themselves up for elaborate failures. Hell, I’m not even saying so to provoke any sort of change – I’m just pointing out this thing I am observing, while character and character development are on my mind (for no particular reason). I’m not meaning to be at all discouraging of whatever you may be seeking to do or to change, just saying generally we can expect most things, most of the time, to be completely… insignificant and ordinary… in most regards. Our individual epiphanies and fantastic ideas are often pretty illuminations of ideas someone else has already put forth elsewhere, before it came to us. Our triumphs are often held in common with the triumphs of others rather like us. Few of us as mortal human primates stand out in any particular way, good or evil. A small handful do – often in the worst possible ways – but seriously, most of us just don’t, and that’s actually just fine.
Do you earnestly truly need to change the world and need to be known for some special something? I can tell you how! Be remembered. Sounds easy, and surely there are a number of ways to go about it, if you’ve just got to have it. If you are more particular than that, and want most to be known and celebrated for actually helping make the world a better place for humanity, this one is more difficult, but built on the same principles – you simply have to be much more selective about what you do that comes to define you and what you are known for. What do you want to be known for? How do you want to be remembered? If you were reading your life as a story, a novel, or a screenplay, what would be the pinnacle achievement that shows you have grown, and how you have successfully made the world a better place? Can you get there, realistically? Authentically? Ethically? What would your path need to be? What experiences would you have to seek and submit to? What would you change about who you are? You can get started any time…
…Where does your path lead?..
…We become what (and who) we practice.
I sip my coffee and think about my journey over the past 62 years, but more specifically how far I’ve come over the past 15 years. It still astonishes me that I had made so little progress toward bettering myself in my first 47 years – that’s a long damned time to fuck about being a rather terrible person lacking in goals or firm ethical grounding, mostly mired in chaos and damage, and definitely struggling just to survive. I did an unfortunately adequate job of masking a lot of that, and giving a decent appearance of being… decent. I mostly just stepped very carefully around the wreckage within, and did what I could to protect those I cared about from my madness and my inner demons. I lacked trust in anyone’s affection for me, most especially my own. I needed help – a lot of it – and some lucky breaks – and I definitely did not know how to get there from where I stood then. “Here” wasn’t even a place I could envision, then.
One of my luckiest breaks was developing a friendship with the man who would eventually become my beloved Traveling Partner. Life changed enough in some small way that my sense of self was changed, too. That mattered more than I could know at the time, and it took me a long way on a new path. My perspective on life changed. It wasn’t “everything”, but it was a good beginning. A new beginning, and the start of a willingness to consider change with greater comfort, and even to embrace it and to seek it. I began asking new questions. I began considering myself as something other than my own worst enemy. I stopped treating myself as though I somehow deserved the lifetime of trauma I had endured. I still needed help, and I sought it out. I began looking at myself in a new mirror, “changing my dictionary”, and using a new map – one I was creating myself. I stopped allowing the world to tell me who I was, and began working to become the woman I most wanted to be – for love. Now I pursue these things because they are the path I choose. (It helped to have profound inspiration to inspire a new beginning though, not gonna lie.)
Note: it doesn’t require a great and inspiring love affair to embrace change, to experience epiphany or enlightenment, or to choose to walk your own path, just happens to be what got me there.
Another perspective on love – and character building.
I’m not certain why these things are on my mind this morning. Maybe because my birthday is getting closer, and I’m often self-reflective and introspective around this time? Maybe because things have been so good with my Traveling Partner, lately, that I drove in to the office feeling pangs of “separation anxiety” in a way that I tend to associate with “new love”? I smile at the new Hue Forge image he made for me over the weekend – an early birthday gift – a favorite anime character, Dandy, from the anime Space Dandy. My Traveling Partner also 3D printed me another hydroponic tower garden, which I assembled on the deck (this one is mostly filled with strawberry seedlings). I feel very loved. I smile and sip my coffee, sitting with my contentment and joy, and reflecting on how far I’ve come in 15 years. It’s been a sometimes slow-feeling journey – incremental change over time often feels very slow – but it’s my own, and I’m okay with where I am this morning, compared to where I was on any Monday morning 15+ years ago. 😀
Love blooming in my garden; “Rainbow Happy Trails” and “Whimsy”.
I sigh and smile. I feel pretty good this morning, and I’m eager to face the day, and return home to my beloved. We plan to cook dinner together this evening – an experience we’ve been enjoying together. I feel fortunate and grateful, and I sit with those feelings awhile, watching the sun rise beyond the window of the office, and sipping my coffee. It’s not fancy, this experience. It’s not extraordinary – it is, in most regards, quite ordinary. That’s okay – better than okay – it’s the experience I’ve chosen, and a moment in a life I am enjoying, on a path I’ve chosen to walk. Am I changing the world? Not in any particularly obvious way, but I’m changing my wee corner of it in small ways, every day, working to become the woman I most want to be, living a life I can look back on with a measure of satisfaction, and a sense that I am doing better today, than I did yesterday, by every measure that counts for me, personally. I have a sense of who I am, and who I want to be – and that counts for so much more than I understood it could, 15 years ago.
What does it take to become the person you most want to be? A commitment to character building over time, perhaps? A willingness to begin again, many times, over years, definitely. Some frankness when facing the mirror certainly helps. The clock is ticking. Embrace change. Become the person you most want to be! You can begin again, any time.
My ears are ringing like crazy this morning. I focus my attention on the sound around me, and the songs of early morning birds (mostly robins). I listen to my steps as I walk the paved section of trail near home. I am walking westward. The sky is gray, densely cloudy, and the air smells of recent rain.
I squint at the newly planted section of vineyard alongside the trail, as I approach it. Something red is blooming at ground level, and I can’t quite make out the grape vines in the gloomy early light. Red clover? Vetch? Last year this was meadow (or fallow fields), and I reflect on the feeling I had the first day I came to this trail after the meadow had been plowed under and replaced by vineyard.
One perspective of many possible perspectives.
Here and there wild blackberries encroach on the edges of the vineyard. They aren’t the native sort, they’re an invasive non-native. The blackberries themselves are tasty nonetheless, but it will be many weeks before blackberries dangle ripe from the thorny canes. I walk past some wildflower blooming – or is it a weed? So close to the planted vineyard, I guess it’s very much a matter of perspective. I walk past reflecting on that.
Wildflower or weed?
Breathe, exhale, relax, and keep walking. I am having my own experience, walking my own path, and quietly enjoying this gray rainy morning.
… The clock is ticking…
I pause at my halfway point and sit for a few minutes, listening to the sound of geese overhead and distant traffic. Breathe, exhale, relax. My tinnitus is still pretty bad, but it’s no longer dominating my attention. There is forest around me and I can hear the nearby creek bubbling past. A small brown bird stops near me, hopping here and there in the grass at the edge of a the trail.
This is a lovely quiet morning, suitable for walking. I get to my feet and begin again.