Archives for posts with tag: anti fascist

I’m sitting at the halfway point on my morning walk, grateful for the warm sweater and cardigan. It’s a cold morning. It’s that time of year, here. The predawn sky is dark and clear, with a few clouds brightened by the lights below. I sit here contentedly, nothing much on my mind, and trying not to think about work. Now is not that time.

For the moment, my anxiety is well-managed, which is nice, and my pain is pretty typical of the season, which is less nice, but endurable. I smirk at myself cynically; I am a survivor. I’ve survived trauma, and heartbreak, and ruin, and mental illness, and profound injury, and domestic violence, and war. It’s been a lot. I sigh to myself. There are so very many people who have survived worse, and more. I’m grateful to be where I am, sitting quietly on this bench on a cold autumn morning before sunrise.

I’m admittedly disappointed with “the state of humanity”, presently. We could do so much better as beings than we have chosen to do. The current US president calls people names like an angry rude child. Legislators seriously contemplate imprisoning women over what should be private medical decision making between women and their physicians. Billionaires hoard vast unimaginable sums of money and assets piled high, while the working people who exchanged their efforts for a pittance worry about their next meal, and people living below the poverty line make daily decisions about whether to buy lifesaving medicine, or groceries. Housing is both limited in availability and also increasingly unaffordable. Are we really immune to all the suffering and violence in the world around us? Are we really okay with people deliberately seeking to profit off that misery?

…We could do better…

I sigh and let that go. I pull my attention back to this moment, here, now.

I take a moment for meditation, and for gratitude. My thoughts, this morning, are more personal than I’m inclined to share. I think about some painful moments in the past, and turn them over in my memory, considering instead what I may have learned or gained as a result of these experiences. It’s a practice I indulge rarely and approach cautiously; it is easy to become immersed in the recollection of pain or failure, and lose my way. There is real value in changing my perspective on such things, when I can. I don’t force it. Authenticity and honest self-reflection have positive value. Tearing myself down ruminating over past trauma or poor decision making tends to cloud my thinking and make me miserable. It is important to practice one and avoid the other.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. The cold has begun to seep into my bones, and my arthritis pain worsens. I sigh to myself and get to my feet. May as well finish this walk and get the day started, I guess. I find myself feeling a little blue. The world weighs too heavily on my thoughts, perhaps, or maybe it’s just pain. Weary. I feel weary of the world and all it’s heartache and chaos, and I’d like very much to simply be alone somewhere for… awhile. Days maybe, but I don’t have the money to spare on frivolous getaways right now, and too much to do that genuinely needs doing, and holidays ahead. Fuck. “Hang in there,” I remind myself, “this too will pass. It’s all very temporary.”

I stand staring down the trail for a moment, feeling unexpected tears rolling down my face. (What the absolute fuck?!) I sigh, a little frustrated with this whole “being human” thing. It’s clearly time to begin again. I see signs of daybreak on the eastern horizon, and start walking.

It’s Veterans Day, today. It is a mild morning in the Pacific Northwest, before sunrise. I’m at the trailhead, in no hurry, waiting for a bit of daylight before I start down the trail. The bridges in town and even the entrance road to this park and the trail that wraps around one side of the air museum property are marked with American flags. It is one way of honoring Veterans of the armed forces on this holiday. Today, I’ll hear a lot of performative expressions of appreciation for my service, and possibly some small number of sincerely felt expressions of real gratitude.

Have you put any thought into what you are thanking Veterans for? Saying “thank you for your service” is not a telling indicator that someone actually understands the sacrifices and changes such service demands. Mostly, it seems to me, people – civilians who have not served their country, I mean – don’t “get it”, at all. They simultaneously seem to elevate military service, and also seem to think that hollow performative thanks are sufficient to meet their obligation to care for and provide for those Veterans their nation has created, used, damaged, and cast aside. “Thank you” isn’t enough. Fund the VA. Ensure Veterans have access to the lifetime of healthcare they may need – at no cost to them, at all. These Veterans already did their part; they served. Make sure they have jobs. Homes. Resources. Relief from poverty. An opportunity to heal their moral and emotional injuries. All of this requires more than a perfunctory “thank you” delivered in passing on a single date on the calendar. You can’t easily know what Veterans go through, or what it takes to “put Humpty Dumpty together again”, but you can care, and you can vote.

Daybreak. Veterans Day 2025.

I get to my feet as daybreak reveals a new day, and start down the trail, alone with my thoughts.

This year it seems likely that, for various reasons, I’ll be hanging out with just one Veteran today, my Traveling Partner. He’s Navy. I’m Army. The differences in our service are less important than the similarities. He never chides me over my mixed feelings about my military service. He understands more than most people can. We’ve each had our own experience of military service. Veterans are not a hive mind, and we don’t all feel proudly patriotic about our military experience. Some come home grievously wounded,  physically, morally, and/or emotionally. We don’t all look back fondly on our service or our former comrades-at-arms. Some of us drag that baggage through a lifetime of struggle after we leave the military, never really healing, never really finding our way, never moving on from the damage done. (That’s more common than people probably realize.)

… Some never make it home at all…

I sigh quietly, sitting at a favorite halfway point. It’s been awhile since I’ve been here in daylight, watching the sun rise… or was that yesterday? 😆 I turn around for a look back, toward the rising sun. Pretty sunrise this morning. I don’t see much of it from this spot, but I see a bit of it between the trees that line the paved portion of the trail. Isn’t that representative of the limitations of our perspective, more generally, too? We see only a small portion of everything there is to see in some moment, and our understanding is limited – because our information is limited. Accepting uncertainty, practicing non-attachment, testing our assumptions, fact-checking what we’re told, and being open to new information are important skills for reasoning well, and thinking critically.

A metaphor in a colorful sunrise, and a moment of gratitude in which to enjoy it.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I meditate as the sun rises. I contemplate my good fortune and take a moment for gratitude. It’s been a long and sometimes difficult journey. I’ve been through some things. I’ve seen some things. I’m here, now, though, and I have better tools for dealing with the chaos and damage – even the lingering baggage of my military service is easier to lug around these days. (If you need help, get help! There are resources, and you can heal. You’ll have to do the verbs, but you are not alone.)

The VA hasn’t reliably done well by me, and I’m not inclined to sugarcoat that, but I’m also very much aware that it doesn’t get the funding it requires (and deserves), making it difficult to live up to the explicit commitment to provide care to Veterans. The solution isn’t privatization, so much as accepting the reality that doing the needful comes at a cost. Social safety nets like the Veterans Administration, and Social Security, and SNAP, shouldn’t be about profit, ever. They are about decency,  care, and a common good that should ideally matter more than profits. (My opinion.)

The VA has also done more, better, often, for me (and many other Veterans)than many civilian medical professionals ever could. It’s been sort of hit or miss, over the years, and mostly due to constraints and systemic failures due to partisan bullshit and inadequate funding. Still, I’m grateful. I’m okay, now, for most values of “okay”, and the VA has played a part in my journey.

… I’m glad Veterans Day is in the autumn, that just “feels right” to me somehow..

I sit thinking of old friends, battle buddies, and the many uniquely military experiences that are shared among Veterans that wouldn’t likely be understood by civilian friends and colleagues. Some are quirky and amusing. Some are dark, to the point of shared trauma. Some seem almost nonsensical out of context, others seem unbelievable. Some make great anecdotes, others can’t be shared even in whispers, except among those who know, and know better than to discuss it freely. Sometimes I miss active duty service… mostly I don’t.

The colorful sunrise becomes an ordinary looking autumn morning. I’ve got a couple of errands to run. Sooner or later, someone well-meaning will thank me for my service. I’ll thank them for their appreciation, without making it “a thing”. Then I’ll begin again. Good enough.

…If you really do care about “supporting our troops” and caring for our Veterans, please also vote for representatives who will actually fund the VA, and social security, and SNAP, because I promise you – our Veterans and active duty service members use those services and need them.

I’m at the trailhead, sitting at my halfway point in the predawn darkness. I woke too early, jerked from a sound sleep by my own anxiety. I dressed quietly and slipped out of the house without waking anyone (as far as I could tell).

Anxiety, 11″ x 24″, acrylic on canvas with ceramic details. 2010

Anxiety is a liar. At least, my anxiety generally has been. I’ve struggled with anxiety for all of my life that I can remember. It was once far worse than it ever is now, and I’m grateful to have better tools for dealing with it these days. A gentle, nonjudgmental, “body scan” confirms the suspicion that developed shortly after I woke; this may not even be anxiety, actually, I’m possibly “just” in pain. Because my osteoarthritis (in my spine) begins at my fusion and extends upward into my neck, it puts most of the intensity in approximately the same general area of my body that I would experience the physical elements of anxiety. I am prone to conflating or confusing them as a result. So maybe I’m not anxious at all? Using the right tool for a given task is important to success…

I breathe, exhale, and relax. Each subsequent deep breath and slow, complete exhalation would ordinarily begin reducing my anxiety almost immediately. Far less effective if what I’m fighting is actually physical pain being reinterpreted as anxiety. I’ve already taken my morning medications, and hopefully they begin being helpful soon. I shift uncomfortably and sigh. Yeah, this is pain. “Just” pain. I turn my attention to more appropriate self-care strategies.

It is a pleasant morning, not particularly chilly, nor rainy. The air is mild and fresh. A delicate sprinkling of rain fell very briefly, more a soft mist really, and it didn’t last. The darkness will soon give way to daybreak, and I’m in no hurry at all. I took today off from work. These quiet moments are mine – and so is the day ahead. I smile to myself in the dark. No drama. No chaos. “Nothing to see here”, and I like that just fine. The world is in chaos, I know, but these quiet personal moments for reflection and self-care matter every bit as much as which criminal cronies the corrupt cheeto-in-chief is going to pardon next. It matters more, probably, at least with regard to this one mortal life that I happen to be living, myself. (I just have to figure he’ll eventually get around to pardoning them all, he seems the sort to abuse that kind of power.)

I sigh and let that shit go. Sure, I’m disappointed in what Americans have allowed to fester within our government. I’m outraged and offended by the level of corruption in the current administration, and the ludicrous petty cruelty being demonstrated by people one might expect to know how to do better. It’s pretty horrible – and the horror is not reduced by also failing to take care of myself. Quite the contrary. Everything going on in the world feels more extreme when I fail to practice good self-care. So this morning I focus on that. No reason at all to even glance at the news this morning.

Another deep breath, another sigh. I can feel my pain medication beginning to help ease my pain, and as my pain recedes, my anxiety is further and further reduced. Daybreak comes, and the sky hints at a cloudy day ahead. The variable autumn weather definitely worsens my subjective experience of arthritis pain. Another sigh. Each one seems to somehow ease my pain in some small incremental way. As my pain eases, my attention broadens, and my world becomes bigger than this one moment here, now. I notice the treeline taking shape along the edge of the creek, beyond the vineyard. I see headlights sweep past as farm workers arrive to begin their day. I think about Thanksgiving, only a couple weeks away. I have a lot to be thankful for. I take time for gratitude while I sit watching daybreak become the dawn of a new day.

I catch myself smiling, feeling relaxed and merry. No work today. No time pressure at all, just a woman, a trail, and a moment. Later, I’ll head for coffee somewhere in town, and poke around in antique stores for a cool restoration project for my Traveling Partner. The day is mine, and I have clearly been needing a break. I’m glad I took one.

There’s always now.

When was the last time you took some time for yourself? Not time spent running errands or catching up on chores or long delayed projects – time for you. Time for self-reflection, for being, and for resting your mind is more what I’m asking about. If you haven’t been taking that time with (and for) yourself, why haven’t you? Won’t you be more capable and resilient if you take good care of yourself? It’s just a thought (and maybe a suggestion).

The sky begins to turn a soft shade of blue gray. No colorful sunrise this morning – but that doesn’t stop me from feeling grateful to see another day dawn. I am intensely grateful; I didn’t expect to get this far. On the other side of the trail, a plump racoon ambles along. She gives me a glance, and continues on her way, a single file line of youngsters following along. I smile. I am reminded that what we notice has a lot to do with what we are looking towards. We are each having our own experience, and in many ways, we’re creating it as we go.

… Choose wisely…

I sigh as I get to my feet, ready to finish my morning walk and begin a new day, again.

I take a breath and exhale completely. So far, it’s a good morning. Honestly, not really all that different from most other mornings, as far as the circumstances and practical factual details go. Most mornings start out pretty well, generally, in my experience. It’s the little things that make the difference; moments of aggravation or inconvenience, some little vexing interaction, a stubbed toe, a forgotten item only noticed on the other end of a long drive, miscommunication, mismatched expectations, some little disapppointment – any of these can result in the feeling of a crappy morning. How bad is it really, though, on any given day? I sip my coffee and think about that awhile.

I haven’t looked at the news today. There’s hardly any point, it’ll probably fit neatly into one of a small number of unimpressive categories: sponsored content, straight up advertising, “official” missives from the government that amount to actual fucking gaslighting, repeats of yesterday’s news copied again and again and spit out as AI slop, and opinion articles sharing the opinions of people whose opinions have no value to me. There is no point in immersing myself in that nonsense at all. I’d be better off reading Proust, by far. lol (If you think your attention span has been impaired by device use over time, making it hard to watch a 2-hour movie, get yourself situated – In Search of Lost Time, by Marcel Proust is 7 g’damned volumes of poetic prose maunderings. It’s a commitment. Still better than doomscrolling the news.)

I sigh quietly and smile. I’ve started reading Proust several times. I’ve yet to get past the first volume before wandering off to do other things and live life, and coming back to it after so much time has passed that I’ve got to start over. LOL Still manages to be a more worthwhile endeavor than doomscrolling some feed clogged with AI slop, by far.

I sip my coffee contentedly, grateful to have coffee at all, with the world in the state it is in right now. I breathe, exhale, and relax, and let that shit go, again. Now is not the time, really, and when it comes to being stressed out over distant events and people that we have no influence over, and whose actions barely touch our lives, well, that’s as pointless as expecting to read Proust “cover to cover” in an afternoon. It’s not a practical expectation, nor an efficient use of time. lol Instead, I take time for gratitude, and little things. It is a pleasant way to prolong a lovely morning, and to set up my day in a positive way. It is a practice well-suited to beginnings. With Thanksgiving (in the US) coming up pretty soon, it’s a strong step forward to make time for gratitude. It can be difficult to begin being grateful, if I’m vexed or irritated in some moment, but worthwhile then too; sincere gratitude quickly crowds out irritability, frustration, and anger. Handy sometimes.

It is the little things I’m often most grateful for, and the modern conveniences that I may sometimes take for granted even though elsewhere in the world (rather shamefully) they may be luxuries. Like… healthy food to eat, clean drinking water, indoor plumbing, high speed internet connectivity, wifi, and even this laptop from which I work each day – these all seem like relatively practical “necessities” in modern life, but I promise you they truly are not. I sip my coffee and reflect on my good fortune and my privileged circumstances. I’m lucky, indeed. Even luckier to have the partnership I do, and the cozy little home we share. I grateful for the skills that are valued by employers who have roles suited to my skills and my nature, such that I’m able to work – and even to work remotely, from home or wherever, and often on my own terms. I’ve got a lot to be thankful for. I’m grateful that my Traveling Partner’s healing has come so far, and that he is able to work in his shop again. I’m grateful for the housekeeping and help with chores that I get from the Anxious Adventurer each week. I’m grateful that my partner and his son both give me the space I need when I need it most, too. That’s a pretty big deal for me.

I smile to myself, feeling “filled up” on gratitude and ready to begin a new day. I’m walking my own path, and the circumstances and choices are my own – and I’m fortunate to enjoy the validation and agency that I do (unfortunately unusual even in the US). This path has brought me so far in such a (relatively) short time, and there is further to go. I’m grateful for that, too, and I’m ready to begin again. 😀

Freedom is a funny thing. It only works when everyone has it – and by “everyone” I mean actual people, not corporations or PACs, or governments. But… that freedom doesn’t shield anyone from the consequences of their own dishonesty, or cruelty, or foolishness. It’s a safeguard against oppression, not a permission slip to be a jackass. You’re expected to pay for your own ticket on that ride.

I’m proud of the actors, creatives, and professionals taking a stand in favor of freedom of speech alongside Jane Fonda, as she relaunches the Committee for the First Amendment . I’m proud to share that commitment. Freedom of speech is one of our most important freedoms as individuals. Seeing it being broadly attacked, even to the point of soldiers deployed to US cities is horrific.

I strongly object to the government deploying troops against our own citizens (especially knowing it’s solely due to our current president’s petty hurt feelings over people not liking him, and disapproval of his terrible policies).

You know what else I object to? Genocide, and our government’s refusal to acknowledge it or make any effective move to stop it when it is committed by a nation viewed as an ally.

I also object to policy-making that undermines access to affordable healthcare, and the inequities in healthcare for women.

I object to unqualified cronies being elevated to leadership roles in government agencies, and I object to loyalty tests as criteria for employment.

I object to allowing billionaires to make decisions about government agencies that also happen to control the purse strings on contracts that benefit said billionaires.  Ethical conflicts of interest are a known problem, and I object to the crassness of our government looking the other way while the already-rich funnel taxpayer funds into their personal piggybanks.

Freedom of speech means I can share my opinion, right here, “out loud”, anytime. Freedom of speech means that the government, specifically, can’t silence me.

Speak truth to power. It matters. Um, yeah… but also? Maybe don’t go carelessly into cities being patrolled by armed troops ill-qualified for the job of keeping peace? Take care of yourself. It’s no mistake that this administration has rebranded the DoD as the Department of War, and has been aggressively seeking to drive out any service members of any rank that may be inclined to question obscene violence and acts of oppression against citizens. These are scary times. Stay safe – but not silent.

It was dark this morning, when I reached the trailhead. Foggy, too. A dense mist filled the parking lot and created a spooky scene.

Starting down the path before daybreak.

I quickly passed through the oaks on the illuminated stretch of paved trail, into the darkness. I walked with my thoughts, until I reached my halfway point. I sat and wrote, dark words, for dark times. I remember when the Berlin Wall came down… that feeling of hope, the feeling of a new world, of the end of the cold war. I’m disappointed, now., and sometimes frightened by where we appear to be heading.

Daybreak arrives shyly. The foggy morning keeps things dim, and gloomy looking. I try not to let it soak into my mood. It’s a work day. On the other side, a weekend. I inhale deeply, tasting the scents of autumn. Tuna casserole tonight? I smile at the thought of such a simple meal, wholesome, comfortable, familiar…easy. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I inhale, recollecting small moments of joy. I exhale, and let go of bullshit I can’t change. I relax, and bring myself back to this moment, surrounded by shadows and the blue gray of the fog as a new day dawns.

It’s a good time to take a stand for the things you believe in. It’s a good time to begin again.