Archives for category: Words

I take a lot of pictures. I mean, since I got my first camera with a phone in it phone with a camera feature, I do. That was back in… 2010? I guess so, that sounds about right. The same year that I got together with my Traveling Partner. Wow. 15 years ago, I got my first smartphone with a camera. I still love “real photography”, but film and film processing were crazy expensive, and my tendency to take a lot of pictures to get one good shot made 35mm photography too costly to bother with, other than vacations and occasions. Now, I am out and about everywhere with a good quality camera in my hand. “A picture is worth a thousand words” is a common enough saying. It’s harder to describe a thing than to see it first hand and “get it” in a glance. Not only that, there are so many interesting and useful metaphors that can be found in an image, and so many interesting sights to see that I might want to look at longer or really study! So, yeah, I take a lot of pictures.

Autumn leaves on the lawn after a rainstorm.

…I am not “a photographer” in any but the most literal sense of “a person who takes photographs”, at least “photographer” is not part of my own sense of identity. I’m an artist, and writer, and even a poet… but my artistic endeavors are generally to do with paint or pastels, my writing is… right here… and my poetry… yet to be published because I am just that g’damned lazy. lol I truly do like things “easy” as much as possible, and I am prone to walking away from an unfinished project entirely if I am too frustrated by it. I’m not bragging – I consider my laziness a pretty noteworthy character flaw, frankly. But, and this is maybe more important, I also recognize how incredibly tired I often am, and how relatively unimportant some projects actually are, and I do try to put self-care ahead of “busy work” as much as possible. The woman in the mirror is generally doing her best to balance the demands of adult life with the needs of her “inner child” in a way that feels successful, reasonable, and productive. I sip my coffee and think about that for a few minutes. I am taking this time for me.

Halloween is over, and all the pumpkins go on clearance. Is there a metaphor here?

I breathe, exhale, and relax. Busy work day ahead. I got the rest I needed, but I am definitely yearning for more sleep. I chuckle to myself – humans are weird. I catch myself daydreaming about sleep, as I sip my morning coffee. A new morning, a new day, a new beginning – sleep is not even on the agenda for many hours to come.

Small town living, dressed up for the holidays ahead.

I let my mind wander to the holidays ahead. The stores are already full of Giftmas merchandise, and online retailers are already making their “Black Friday Deals” known. I’m not generally interested in Black Friday shopping because it’s typically limited to heavily advertised, marked-up goods that get marked down ahead of the holidays so the sales feel “special”, and the intent is to drive people to buy a lot of stuff they may not even actually need, but the price looks like a deal (and in difficult times, that’s quite a lot of incentive to buy). Mass-market trade goods of various sorts are not usually what I’m looking for, so the Black Friday hoopla is not “for me”. I’m okay with paying a reasonable price for the things I actually want or need, and shopping with intention and care in local shops.

…G’damn things are expensive right now, though, aren’t they? Fuuuuuuck…

I feel my anxiety level begin to rise, thinking about money. That’s not strange. I suspect most people are anxious over money matters these days. Furloughs, lay-offs, unpaid involuntary labor (um… isn’t that “slavery”?) – with the government shutdown lasting weeks, folks are not just feeling a pinch because there’s a gap in their pay – they are facing real hardships, because there’s no money for food, heat, rent, bills, medical care… you know, life. It’s hard to believe that something as fucking stupid as partisan loyalties to political parties is enough to pit Americans against each other, most especially when their fucking job is running the g’damned government. Assholes. (Sorry, this really vexes me, I guess. You, too?)

Happy holidays may be ahead; you have choices.

I sigh to myself. I love the winter holidays so much. I love the lavish sparkle of lights and ornaments, and the festive packages under the tree. It’s not so much about the money, though it does come at a cost each year, it’s purely about the delight. My Traveling Partner and I have already discussed setting clear limits and scaling way back this year, due to the high cost of … everything. That doesn’t subtract from the joy or the warmth or the delight, just means finding the shining center of that holiday spirit in something other than purchased goods. Easy enough. I’ve got recipes – books and books of them – and the basic ingredients for holidays baked goods are available, and mostly sort of affordable, with wise decision-making. It’s certainly not a good year for careless spending. (Maybe it never is?)

I think about my disappointment when I saw that the assorted old-fashioned glass Shiny Brite ornaments are all marked “made in China”. I remember when that was not the case. I remember buying beautiful glass ornaments that were made in Germany, in the Czech Republic, and in Pennsylvania. I sigh to myself. Fortunately, I’ve got so many ornaments already that there simply is no reason to buy more, other than to commemorate the year, and my beloved Traveling Partner has been making those for us each year for a few years now. 😀 Nothing lost, and my moment of disappointment is built on nostalgia, not any kind of legitimate hardship or change that affects me in some practical way. I let it go.

I look over other pictures of recent things and places, and smile. It’s nice to hold on to a memory in the form of a photograph. It feels so real.

Places and memories, captured in photographs.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I sip my coffee and think my thoughts. I prepare for the day ahead. It’s time to begin again.

It is early morning on an ordinary Monday. I’m awake, and feeling as if I’d slept in, but that’s more to do with the end of Daylight Savings Time than anything else. I got up and dressed and left the house without waking anyone, as far as I could tell. I reached the trailhead before daybreak and got to my halfway point before sunrise. The sky is just barely showing any hint of daylight yet-to-come.

It can sometimes feel as if my choices are very limited, or potentially even that I “have no choice” in some moment of stress or urgency. That’s rarely true. Just this morning, getting to this ordinary location for an everyday experience that is quite commonplace for me, I made many choices. Fleece or cardigan? Put my boots on while seated on the edge of the bed, or carry them down the hall and put them on right before I leave? Hair pulled back, worn in a twist, or loose? Grab a yogurt drink or a bottle of water on my way out? Do I need to stop for gas? Most of these choices happened almost in the background, requiring very little of my attention. They’re still choices.

I smile to myself in the darkness. I’m okay with my choices so far, today. If I weren’t, I could begin again, and walk a different path (literally or metaphorically). The small everyday choices may seem insignificant, but they say something about my values, and how well I do (or don’t) live them. That’s information worth having. It can be hard to correct the path we walk, if we don’t notice we’ve stepped off that path.

A sprinkling of rain begins to fall. I can continue on, until I reach the parking lot, or I can turn back. In this instance, the choice won’t be about distance; it’s about the same either way. 😂 I laugh and pull my tightly folded rain poncho out of my pocket, and pull it over my head. It was a smart choice to bring it, I think to myself. Then the rain stops, making it completely irrelevant. It rained only long enough to make my poncho too wet to shove back in my pocket. I chuckle to myself. Sometimes choices do work out that way. I don’t really mind being unnecessarily prepared. It’s far better than being unprepared.

I think about the day ahead. Am I prepared? Ready to make choices? Ready to do the many verbs awaiting me further up life’s path? I don’t know… I’m at least ready to begin. Again.

It starts to sprinkle again, and I get to my feet, ready to walk on. Prepared.

The work day ended gently, and it’s been productive. which surprises me. The morning passed pretty quickly, but the minutes became prolonged and tedious as the afternoon began, and by 13:00 I was definitely aware that I’m ill. The headache that seemed to have diminished during the night is very much back. My sinuses feel weirdly dry and irritated, in spite of my drippy nose. I finally noticed that I had forgotten to remove my shoes after running a brief errand… then still managed to forget about them entirely until some minutes ago. I ache all over, although the chills and sweats seem to be over with. I’m “tired” – but not the healthy tiredness of the end of a long day at hard work, nor the anticipated tiredness of bedtime. Just feeling generally rundown. The malaise of illness seems so utterly mundane. But…

…I’m okay for nearly all values of “okay”, presently, in spite of being sick. It’s just a headcold. Pretty commonplace, and very ordinary. Hell, it’s that time of year, anyway, eh? I sigh, and let that go. It’s not really worth bitching about, and I’m snug at home and cared for…

My Traveling Partner asks me, every so often, if I’m feeling better. I mean… mostly? Sort of. Some? A little bit? As with the way I often answer questions, the answer isn’t helpful at all, and fails to communicate anything worth knowing. It’s a challenge I deal with often, and I know it frustrates people. What frustrates me is how often people who know I have brain damage either completely forget that there are some very specific things that result from that (which affect communication in some cases) that I can’t reliably do much about, or behave as though it is as simple as doing things differently. Practicing doing some particular thing in some very particular way can be helpful over time, but (most especially) when my executive function and communication impairments are most severe (like, when I’m sick, or deeply fatigued), there’s often damned little I can actually do about it in any practical way. I just have to deal with the experience of struggling to communicate, when it happens. Frustrating all around.

I take a break with my Traveling Partner. He’s working on a project in the shop. He’s having his own experience with frustration and shares details with me. He offers to show me something he’s working on, or something to do with the thing frustrating him. I’m aware that I’m too sick to be sharp enough to appreciate and value the experience, putting us both at risk of still more frustration – so I decline in favor of more self-care, and maybe laying down for awhile. This fucking headache is kicking my ass, and has now partnered with my “everyday headache” to bring real oomph to my headache experience. I sigh to myself, alone in this comfortable space. My headache is not eased by whatever the fuck that low frequency whine outside is. A leaf-blower? A distant train engine idling on a siding? One of those vacuum or carpet cleaning trucks over at the apartment complex on the other side of the creek? It could be any number of things. One thing it definitely is, is incredibly irritating and I’ve got a fucking headache. I snarl quietly to myself, then remind myself it isn’t personal, at all. It’s just noise.

…This headache, though…

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I’m not at risk of death. I’m not headed to the ER. I’m not immobilized. I’ve got a headcold. Some random virus going around the community at the start of flu season caught up to me. I could have rolled d20 and predicted the outcome, most likely. Annoyingly mundane and not at all interesting. (Sorry.)

I sit quietly for a moment, appreciating the other details. The good stuff. I pull my focus back to this moment, this relationship, this little house situated between town and farm. There’s a lot to be grateful for. I’m grateful that the Anxious Adventurer is willing to make dinner, and that I had ingredients on hand to make that relatively easy on him. I’m grateful to have the means to quickly go to the pharmacy for cold remedies, and the freedom to do so at my convenience, even on a work day. I’m grateful that I can afford to do so, without worrying about trade-offs. I’m grateful for the good quality well-roasted sustainably sourced fair trade coffee beans from which I made my morning coffee. I’m grateful to have the opportunity to make that choice. I’m grateful to have become the kind of person who cares about the other human beings in the supply chain for the things I want or need in life, and the sort who makes choices that are informed by that caring nature. I’m grateful to recognize my relative privilege in life, in spite of the tough times I’ve endured along the way. I’m grateful for the computer that sits here on my desk; my Traveling Partner built it with my needs in mind, and it suits me so well! I’m grateful to be so well-loved by such a very interesting and delightful human being, one that I love so well. I’m grateful that my problems in life aren’t worse than they are – and that I am aware of my good fortune.

…Even when I’m sick, a few minutes of sincere gratitude is a powerful mood-lifter…

When I’m sick, my emotions are often very much “at the surface” of my awareness. This puts me at risk of losing my temper, or weeping over nonsense. In addition to those risks, though, it also puts me in touch with the softer subtler emotions, the little joys, the childlike delight over something that sparkles, the pure radiant happiness of a hug. It’s a weird time. I’m tired, but energized and restless. I’m volatile, but capable of beautiful moments of great joy, love, and delight. I’m kind of stupid, but barely matters because I’m also feeling accepted and safe and cared-for. Being human is peculiarly complicated. Nuanced. I try not to take it personally. If things go sideways, I know I’m loved anyway. I smile to myself and finish my tea. The work day is behind me. I can begin again tomorrow – for now, I’ll just take care of myself.

I left work early yesterday (by a few minutes) with a wicked headache. Not my usual headache, this one felt…viral. By evening I was definitely not feeling well. I crashed at 18:30 and slept through the night waking only twice for one biological need or another, and quickly returning to sleep. I woke at my usual time, and went back to sleep, waking later to make coffee and slowly start getting myself together for the day, figuring I’ll work from home, at predictably lower productivity, but “being there” for my team and still getting needful things wrapped up for October. A reasonable plan.

The first notification to reach me this morning is a DM from a friend. “Are you worried?” Well, damn, yeah, honestly, more often than not lately – at least any time I step outside my safe-seeming home. But, I feel certain she means something specific, and I ask. I immediately wish I hadn’t, when she replies “he wants to re-start nuclear testing”. I know which “he” she means, and my response is… to make a cup of coffee. I mean, damn, even if the end of the world were literally upon me, at this hour of the day I’m definitely going to want to face that shit with a fresh cup of coffee. lol I’m not meaning to make light of something that is truly horrific, but I honestly don’t know how else to take it. The notion is completely fucking ludicrous – what is there to test? What don’t we already know about the profound destructive power of nuclear weapons, and the lasting damage to this one planet we live on that inevitably results? Have we forgotten all the other nuclear tests that have been done? It’s an ugly dick measuring contest. A toddler’s demonstration of power (that they clearly should not have in the first place). Renewed nuclear testing achieves nothing good and protects no one. It does nothing to improve the stability of global trade or diplomacy. It’s also fucking expensive, which seems odd from a guy who campaigned on how good he was going to make America, and how much he would bring down the debt, the deficit, and the cost of fucking groceries. I’m annoyed by all of it, so I…

…Take a breath, followed by a sip of my coffee, which is exceptional this morning. I get my work tools set up. I seem to manage to avoid waking my still-sleeping Traveling Partner, which pleases me (I hope I’m right!), because I’m fairly certain he will have slept restlessly, worrying about me during the night. Then I check The Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists to see if the clock has changed since January 28th… it hasn’t. I let it go, with a sigh. Not relief, just… I don’t know. The madness of renewed nuclear testing is not something I can change, or fix, or act upon, really. I’ll write letters to representatives later.

It’s not that I’m ignoring the crazy going on around me, nor the costume ball of assholes, douchebags, and clowns in Washington haplessly proclaiming that this or that new horror is somehow not their fault. I’m not ignoring any of it. I am refusing to let those fuckwits camp out rent free in my consciousness full-time, though. I will continue to live my life as well as I am able until the world actually ends. I’ll do my own best to be kind, to be a good neighbor, to be compassionate, to make wise choices, to care for home and hearth, to love with my whole heart, and to refrain from making shit in the world worse – for anyone – if I can. I’ll continue to call genocide “genocide”, when I see it. I’ll continue to speak truth to power. I’ll continue to refuse to laugh at “jokes” that hurt people. I’ll turn my attention away from the click-bait headlines, sponsored content, and AI slop. I just don’t have time for attention-getting bullshit.

I dislike being sick, but compared to some of what is going on in the world, a headcold isn’t that big a deal, is it?

I sip my coffee. I meditate. I run a brush through my hair so that on my calls I don’t look like a muppet does my styling. I move my keyboard a litte more to the left… Then after I shift my chair, I move it back to the right some. After a couple of repeats, I realize I’m just fussing, and willfully stop my restless fidgiting. I breathe, exhale, and relax, and let my lingering stress and irritation go with my exhalation. I feel my posture become more relaxed, more upright, more “easy”. Feels better. I don’t always easily recognize “discomfort” for what it is, at least not immediately. I take a moment for a “body scan”, feeling various tight spots, and letting myself relax further. There is endurance, resilience, and comfort in self-care. I take my time with myself, and my coffee. I’ve already set expectations that I’m not at 100% this morning, and that I may begin the day a bit later than I generally do. Clear expectation-setting and managing healthy boundaries is also self-care.

What matters most? The moment of panic over a madman’s idiocy – or how I live my life, moment to moment? I realize that I hadn’t sent my friend a proper response to her concern. Am I worried? Of course I am. Am I letting that worry take over my experience? Nope. Not a chance – there is nothing whatsoever about the terrible crap in the news that requires that of me, or over which my reaction in this moment would be some sort of catalyst for change. I tell my friend I am taking a wait-and-see approach, and staying prepared for disaster, but that I won’t be allowing such things to wreck my day-to-day experience. I send her laughing emojis and tell her I have too much “real stuff” to do. She laughs, too, and tells me she appreciates my practical level-headed perspective. I’m grateful that she sees me that way, and I let those words remind me that this is who I am – with practice.

I remind myself to sit down with my Traveling Partner and the Anxious Adventurer, and have a conversation about cold-war era fears of nuclear disaster, and ensuring that together we have disaster plans that are appropriate, and that our level of preparedness for the “come what may” is sufficient. It’s a conversation for another time, and needs no further thought from me now. I set it aside for later, along with my general disappointment in humanity that we’re even in this predicament in the first place. We could do better. Honestly, it’s such a simple thing; it begins with electing people of good character who have the necessary skills and willingness to govern accountably and ethically. Without that, we just end up right back here. I sigh to myself, and let that go, too.

I glance at the clock… It’s time to begin again. There is no time to waste. The clock is always ticking.

I had high hopes that my hearing aids might somehow improve my tinnitus. That hasn’t been the case, although it is sometimes less distracting, since I can more easily focus on real sounds in my environment, being able to hear them more clearly. It’s something, but it’s not a solution to the tinnitus, which is vexing me a bit this morning. In the predawn darkness on the trail, I hear my footsteps, my breathing, and my tinnitus.

I sigh to myself and keep on walking.

The news is grim and stupid to the point of seeming surreal. It’s as if The Onion is in charge of the news… only, this crap is entirely real. I mean, for most values of real. (Sometimes it is hard to be certain what “real” even is, with AI slop becoming heavily featured.) What did we think would happen as businesses (including media companies) lay off human beings in favor of (apparently) cheaper AI bots and “agents” taking the place of human beings with actual creativity, discernment, judgement, and comprehension? The demand for news and information is still there, and it looks like a notable portion of the news consuming public will settle for sponsored content and clickbait slideshows as an adequate substitute. So grotesque.

I keep walking.

Grocery prices are way up, while the president says explicitly that they are down. This entire administration seems to be one long tedious string of actual fact-checkable blatant shameless falsehoods. Lies. Like, “look straight into the camera, smile, and lie” levels of disregard for truth or factual accuracy. I’m not sure which bothers me most, the childishly obvious lying, or the personal attacks in lieu of reasoned discussion. Sarcasm, mockery, and name-calling used to seem beneath the dignity and character of our leaders… but someone let schoolyard bullies take seats of power. Stupid. Stressful. I keep finding myself wondering if we truly are living the decline and fall of America. That would be such a shame.

I keep walking.

The pavement is wet. It rained during the night. I wonder how many people in my own community spent the rainy night outdoors, who will wake up hungry this morning and instead of a fresh cup of coffee and a job to get to, spend a cold morning trying to find resources. Shelter. A hot meal. A means of being clean, warm, dry, and safe. Where will they go? What would I do if it were me?

I keep walking.

I notice, this morning, that my readership is way up. Like, almost ridiculously so. If you’re a new reader, welcome. I laugh to myself. The things I write are not the sort likely to drive a ton of new views, generally. I’m not naive enough to imagine I’ve suddenly become wildly popular with a broad audience. It’s more likely to be bots and non-human traffic. (I once saw readership spike when a particular post was used as an example of something in someone’s curriculum. Things like that happen now and then.) Still, if you are a human primate who happened upon my blog, you are very welcome. Enjoy.

I get to my halfway point and stop to write. The morning is dark and quiet, chilly and damp, but not actually raining. It’s a workday, and I expect a busy one. I sigh and let that go. I don’t need to be thinking about work right now, this moment is mine. I don’t have to think about “the world”, either, not right now, and I let that go, too. I breathe, exhale, and relax, and let concerns about money, civil rights, personal freedoms, genocide, aging, AI, and the future of humankind, fall away, and I pull my focus to this quiet moment right here. Here, now, generally speaking, things (for me) are mostly fine. I’m okay for most values of okay. The bills are paid. The pantry is stocked. There’s a payday coming. The gas tank is half full. I’m wearing warm, dry, clean clothing appropriate for the weather. Hell, I’m even in a pretty good mood, if a bit world-weary and disappointed in humanity.

I sit with my gratitude awhile, wishing very much I could share this moment with my Granny, my Dear Friend, or even my Dad – all people who spent some considerable time in their lives worrying over me. I’m okay. Took a long g’damned time to get here, but I’m here, now, and I’m okay. I fill my lungs with the chilly autumn morning air and exhale slowly, emptying my mind of stressful things as the vapor of my breath mingles with the autumn mist.

G’damn, my tinnitus is loud this morning.

Daybreak comes later each morning, this time of year. “No point waiting,” I think to myself. I sit a little while longer, watching the stars and looking for even a hint of the dawn to come. It’s not yet time. For a moment I wonder whimsically (if a bit grimly) whether the sun will rise at all. How would I behave if one morning it just… didn’t? That would certainly change the relative importance of some of the bullshit going on in the world, wouldn’t it?

I sit with my thoughts, and my breath, trying to make sense of things. It is a favorite endeavor of human primates to try and “figure things out”. I hear an old familiar voice in my memory, “you can’t figure out crazy”. Still true. I sigh and get to my feet. It’s time to walk on. It is time to begin again.