Archives for posts with tag: anti-genocide
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Step One…

January 1, 2026 //
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It is New Year’s Day, January 1st, 2026. I woke up early, no hangover, feeling pretty relaxed and comfortable in my body after a good night’s sleep. This is only surprising because quite a few of the neighbors were up well into the night setting off fireworks and celebrating the end of 2025. Sounded like quite a lot of enthusiasm to see it end.

I’d gone to bed early, still struggling with lingering symptoms of recent illness and just not feeling up to a lot of fuss and bother. The sound of fireworks did not prevent me from sleeping. No parties, no drinking, no fancy dinner, no company over to ring in the new year; it was a quiet evening at home. It’s not surprising that I slept well and woke without a hangover.

The year ended somewhat painfully, with one final “fuck you” from circumstances delivered on the last day of the year. My parked car was sideswiped by something while I was working yesterday, which I discovered when I left the office to return home. Fuck. For real?! I cried. I pinged my Traveling Partner for comfort and guidance (too upset to easily process next steps), then called my insurance company to file a claim, and then local police department to file a report. By the time I got home, I was merely annoyed, and managing to feel grateful it hadn’t been worse. The damage to the car is cosmetic, and I wasn’t injured. It definitely could have been worse!

I sip my hot cup of cheap gas station coffee, listening to the rain falling at this trailhead, and thinking about how much my choices create my experience in some circumstances, and how circumstances sometimes create an experience I didn’t see coming, in others. I still have to deal it, with regardless of my previous choices or circumstances. It’s a journey. I do have choices and something to say about the experience I have. Powerful. Knowing this does nothing to prevent me from being upset when things go poorly, just reminds me there’s a lot about it that remains within my capabilities to handle, manage, control, or deal with properly.

… I’m still mad, though, I mean, for real? I have lingering “why me?” feelings, but I’ve done what I can for now…

I left the house this morning feeling a muted sense of purpose, and undecided on what trail to walk. It was early. I’ve got options. It is a cold morning, but not freezing. As I get into the car, it begins to rain. My nose is running and I’ve started coughing – taking my noisy sleepless self back into the house would only serve to wake everyone else, too. I don’t feel like dealing with that, so I head out in spite of the rain. It’s not cold enough to snow – I guess I’m grateful.

Now I’m sitting here at the trailhead, waiting for a break in the rain, and maybe for daylight. There’s no traffic beyond the parking lot. The morning is quiet and suited to meditation and self-reflection. It’s a gentle beginning to a new year. I make a point not to look at the news; I don’t want to do anything that might break this fragile moment of peace and contentment. Not yet. Later will be soon enough to begin again.

…

…

…

… I can’t believe I’m still dealing with being sick… Maybe I’ll just go back to bed after I return home? Anyway… Happy New Year!

First light on the trail, first morning hike of the new year.
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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, breathe, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, meditation, Metaphors, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Practices, solo hiking, The Art of Being, winter

A Moment Between Moments

November 25, 2025 //
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I’m staring at the bright blank square of light in my hand. I’m sitting in the dark at my halfway point on this morning’s walk, and rather oddly, my mind is blank. The morning is quiet and a few degrees warmer than it has been. The morning is clear and calm, a handful of stars peeking through scattered clouds. I have the sense that I had a worthwhile idea… yesterday. Not very helpful right now, though.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. We’re a day closer to Thanksgiving. I feel ready for that and grateful for my good fortune. I’m also grateful to see signs that the current terrible, corrupt, anti-science, anti-education, anti-fact, anti-American administration is beginning to falter. Hopefully the damage done can be repaired. G’damn, what were people thinking to set this shit in motion?! Our stupid “us vs. them” bullshit, partisan politics, and hateful “othering” has torn the country apart and has literally gotten people killed. Ugly. We can do better – we only have to choose to do differently.

I served my country. I watched the cold war end. I am so disappointed in what I see now. Do better.

Ah, but truly I am grateful. It could be worse. I pull my focus back to this moment, here, on a quiet autumn morning before dawn. There’s very little traffic. There is no one else on the trail. The homes and apartments on the other side of the small creek that runs alongside the trail are visible through the strip of forest that lines the creek banks. They are dark and quiet, too. The moment is mine. I soak in the peace of it, and fill myself with contentment and joy. Nothing to see here, really, a woman on a walk, pauses to rest and to write, insignificant to anyone but herself. It’s enough, isn’t it?

I shrug off my arthritis pain, and my tinnitus. I ignore the sensation of tendonitis developing in my left foot. I pay no mind to the headache that seems to accompany me everywhere, most days, now. I have no time for frailty! I laugh at myself; this refusal to yield to mortal frailties is only effective in the mornings, I find. By day’s end I will be too tired to fight it anymore, and I will be forced to give in to my limitations, reduced to limping from task to task, mobility clearly impaired. Very human.

In spite of physical pain and discomfort, I still manage gratitude. I hear the woosh of HVAC nearby, and recognize that my tinnitus doesn’t deafen me. That’s definitely worth a moment of gratitude. My arthritis and occasional tendonitis don’t stop me from walking local trails and being outside. I’m grateful to be on my feet and still walking. This headache vexes me, often, but so far it hasn’t been found to have any life-threatening cause (or potential outcome). I’m grateful to have unmeasured time ahead of me, in some amount, in this mortal lifetime, and even more grateful to enjoy it in the company of good friends, smart colleagues, and my beloved Traveling Partner. There’s so much to learn and do and enjoy yet in life!

Daybreak comes. I’m grateful for another sunrise.

Two more work shifts, then the holiday. I’m grateful to have a job that gives me holidays off. I smile, remembering that this weekend the Giftmas tree will go up. I’m grateful for the well made artificial holiday tree and the many beautiful ornaments I’ve gathered over a lifetime. I’m deeply grateful that my sister shared family ornaments after our mother died. Each colorful glass ball, icicle, star, and blown glass Santa sparks some recollection of Giftmas past. I’m grateful for those holiday memories, sparkling and twinkling in my imagination.

The path forward becomes clearer with the dawn. I sigh contentedly in the stillness, and get ready to begin again. New day, new opportunities, and I’m grateful. Right now, that’s enough.

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Categories Allegories, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, joy, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, The Art of Being, War and News of War, Words

Some Quiet Moments

November 19, 2025 //
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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.

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Categories 2024 Election, Allegories, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, The Art of Being, War and News of War, women, Words

Tinnitus, Still

October 29, 2025 //
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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.

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Categories 2024 Election, Allegories, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, The Art of Being, War and News of War, Words

Freedom of Speech

October 3, 2025 //
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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.

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Categories 2024 Election, anger, Anxiety, art and the artist, autumn, breathe, Free Will, inspiration, Logic & Reason, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, The Art of Being, The Big 5, War and News of War, women, Words
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