Archives for posts with tag: be here now

Oh. Wait… No sponsor, here. No advertiser (unless forced on you by the app, and if so, my apologies cuz that truly sucks). No AI used in writing this post. No monetization. (I don’t make money off of this writing, and money isn’t the point.)

… Welcome…

Sunrise

It is a Friday. An ordinary enough work day. The days are getting shorter, enough to notice the change in the timing of the sunrise. I set off down the trail feeling a certain settled contentment that I yearned for, for so long. It’s a lovely warm feeling a little like love, focused on just this moment right here. I breathe the summer air deeply, tasting the scents of meadow and wildflowers. I watch the robins scratching in the grass alongside the trail ahead. I think about the day ahead of me and the weekend just beyond. I keep walking.

When I get to my halfway point, I pause to meditate as the sun rises, and to write a bit. I sit with my thoughts trying to recall something I thought I’d write about, but it eludes me now.

I sit quietly with my feeling of contentment and soft joy. Nice moment, in spite of physical pain competing for my attention. Fuck pain, though. I breathe, exhale, and relax, doing my best to distract myself. It’s quite early and my meds aren’t yet doing their thing in full measure. Soon. It’ll be some better, soon.

The work day ahead feels uncomplicated, necessary, and appropriately limited by time. I think about maybe baking brownies and remind myself to pick up chicken for dinner, later. It’s an utterly ordinary day in a very average and largely unremarkable life – or so it seems to me. I’m okay with that. I don’t need something spectacular and extraordinary out of my day-to-day experience. Enough is enough in every practical way.

“Enough” is a matter of perspective.

I sigh to myself watching the sky change colors with the rising sun. Soon enough I’ll begin again, but for now, right here is fine. I’ll sit here on this picnic table and enjoy it awhile before I walk on.

A piece of trim fell off my everyday glasses a couple days ago, and I haven’t found it. I’m working in the office, instead of from home as I had planned. The coffee drive-through I like to frequent on a workday didn’t open this morning. I poked myself in the eye by mistake. I forgot the midday snack I’d meant to bring for later. I stubbed my toe on my way into the office and dropped my computer bag on my foot.

All of these are minor aggravations barely worth a moment of my attention. There are no bombs dropping here – a useful observation for some perspective. There was a time when any one of these things would have had me angry enough, frustrated enough, to really mess up my day. I’m grateful to practice other practices, these days, than uncontrolled anger and frustration*. Anger and frustration not only wreck my own mood, but they are “contagious” to be around, and tend to degrade the quality of any shared experience. It helps to put these things into context, to frame them differently, and to understand them in a broader perspective (which is a choice I can make).

…So I do that…

I’ve got another pair of glasses with the correct prescription in them (I feel both grateful and fortunate). I have the convenient option to work in the office or from home any day; it’s my choice either way (and I am fortunate to have that choice and appreciate it greatly). There’s decent quality local coldbrew on tap in the office that is provided at no (direct) cost (and I’m grateful to have it). Poking myself in the eye did no lasting damage, and already doesn’t hurt at all (only minutes later). I forgot my snack, but I remembered my lunch, so it doesn’t actually matter. My foot aches a bit but I’ve got my cane handy anyway, and it is a minor aggravation that lacks meaning (even as pain) in the context of the everyday experience of chronic pain – it could be worse. Hell, I’m grateful to be able to walk.

…Better…

So, I breathe, exhale, and relax, and sip my icy cold brew. It’s not a great cup of coffee and the morning has not been a great experience, but it’s only a moment out of a day, and it will pass. I find the experience of anger fairly toxic – my own anger, within myself, specifically. I don’t care for the experience of feeling angry, or having someone in my vicinity dealing with their own experience of anger. It is, for me, wholly unpleasant. It is also reported to be unhealthy to squelch it entirely and take no action to resolve whatever has brought it to the surface in the first place. There’s a balance to strike with regard to anger. Venting doesn’t work to resolve anger – it just tends to become a practice of being angry. Not a great state of being (or practice), in my opinion, and I like to choose (and cultivate) other more positive ways to approach circumstances*. Gratitude certainly feels better than anger…

I have a lot to be grateful for. I sip my coffee contentedly and prepare to begin again.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

*And I do have to actually choose and actually practice! Anger management is a skill that needs to be cultivated and practiced and worked at and… I’m very human. My results vary. lol I’m ever so much better at keeping my anger in check in a healthy way and communicating my feelings with care these days than I was years ago, but it has taken years of practice. Be patient with yourself, if you struggle with anger. Keep practicing. Incremental change over time will win… in time. 😀

It’s a lovely morning on the trail. The sun is up, shining golden and filling the tree tops with light. The air is cool and hints at fall ahead. Summer scents of mown meadows and blooming flowers fill the still air. The distant hills are hazy; it’s wildfire season. I pause to sit and meditate as the morning becomes a new day. It is a lovely practice.

Sunlight and oak trees

“Nothing to see here.” I have the trail to myself, this morning. I enjoy that as the pleasant luxury that it is. I don’t own this land. I don’t have any claim on this place at this time. It is a public trail available for anyone who chooses to use it. It’s nice to have it to myself, and quite rare this time of year.

There’s a work day ahead, but it’s not yet time for that. This is time for me. Pleasant solitary minutes for walking and reflecting, for thinking and for meditating, and for snapping the occasional photograph of sunlight in the trees, or wildflowers, small birds, or the rising sun.

The sunrise, as I arrived.

I watch small yellow birds land on weedy stems alongside the path. They chirp together, nibbling at the seeds drying there after the flowers have faded and fallen.

A small yellow bird holds still for a picture.

Lovely moment. Lovely morning. I’ll work from home today, a nice break from commuting to the office. I am grateful to have the choice. I sit watching the little birds flutter among the weeds. There are several now. They ignore me and go about the business of the day.

…Each moment is so precious…

What are you cultivating? What are you working towards as a human being? Are you the person you most want to be? What steps are you taking to get there? What practices are you practicing? We become what we practice, so those choices really matter. Choose wisely.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. The morning chill contrasts with the warmth of the sunshine on my bare arms. I sigh contentedly. It’s a great beginning to a new day, for me, here, now. Your results may vary. You’re having your own experience – make the choices that will make it a good one, if you can. It’s worth making that effort.

… The journey is the destination…

I get to my feet to head back. It’s already time to begin again.

The Willamette River flows past quietly. The air smells of summer flowers and grassy breezes. I hear a variety of birds singing and calling from unseen locations in the trees along the bank. A woodpecker taps out a story of summer mornings and a squirrel nearby chirps her annoyance; I am too close, though I don’t see her.

Here comes the sun, new day, new perspective.

This morning my walk is along a trail I have not walked before. I found it earlier in the Spring, when the trees were bare, and the ground was muddy. Pretty spot, I thought then, meaning to return. It’s taken me awhile, but I am here and the moment does not disappoint.

A bunny on the trail ahead, an obstacle, an observation, or a fellow traveler; it depends on one’s point of view.

There are big thickets of thimbleberries out here. Lots of familiar wildflowers (they would be weeds if they were to turn up in my garden). Perspective.

The trail winds through the trees along the river, and around a planted meadow of clover, covered in purple flowers. In the center of the meadow there are several bee hives. Seeing that reminds me I’m allergic to bees (an allergy I acquired as an adult in my 30s, working in construction in California’s Central Valley). I double back, and grab my bee sting kit from my backpack, in the car, and begin again.

A trail walk on a summer morning.

The sun rises while I walk. I catch golden glimpses as I pass through the trees. The trail does a sort of figure eight, looping around and crossing over at the trailhead. One side is a short loop not quite a mile through the trees. The other side is also short, longer, a little less than two miles if I walk the little side loops, too. All of it quite pretty. I don’t hear any traffic at all. No agricultural noise either, though I’m surrounded by farmland, here. It’s Saturday and still quite early. A man walking two very excited well cared for Irish Setters overtakes me and passes by with a friendly greeting and assurances that his dogs are friendly. I walk on, until I find a convenient rock to sit on for awhile, watching the river flow past and listening to the buzz of insects.

Reflections and a quiet moment.

I don’t need more out of this moment than it offers. I’ll definitely be back – maybe tomorrow? Maybe some other day.

I expected this place might be quite crowded, when I was here in springtime, but I was misunderstanding the paved bit down to the river as a boat ramp, it isn’t at all, that was just how high the water level was at the time. No boat ramp here, just a steep drop off at the end of the sloping trail, and an even steeper eroded “trail” of a sort, for those bold enough to attempt it, leading down to a small sliver of sandy “beach” at the waters edge. I don’t go that far; I’m not confident I could get back up to the trail from there.

… I find it helpful to know my limits. I sometimes find it challenging to distinguish between legitimate limits and those self-imposed by fear or doubt…

Clouds gather overhead, obscuring the blue summer sky, and I feel a chill bit of air coming up from the river. I sigh and stretch and smile. Lovely trail. Lovely morning. Moments are temporary, no point getting attached to this one, and anyway, there’s further to go. Feels like time to begin again.

Moments in life are worth savoring. We don’t know when some occasion will be the last of such things. Being present in each experience tends to make a more detailed, more lasting memory, and a stronger impression on our implicit sense of the quality of our life. That’s been my own experience, at least. Falling headlong through experiences without consideration, thought, choice, or awareness, doomscrolling through the days, shortens our time and gives us little to recall later. I sip my coffee and think on that. I also think about how precious and meaningful it is to me that my beloved Traveling Partner reads my blog. I feel “heard” when he comments on something I have written.

Last night my partner recommended a video, we watched it together. He was inspired to share it because he found that it connected with some of my recent writing. I am moved and grateful that he cares so much, and gives such thought to my reflections in these moments when we are not together. I will say, if you’re prone to existential dread, this video may provoke it. It is, however, interesting and definitely does connect to some of my thoughts on this fragile mortal experience, and what remains behind once we’ve moved on.

The point though, really, is that wandering about with our device in our hands, relying on our GPS to get anywhere, counting on calendar reminders to remember anything we plan, seeking guidance through prompts in an LLM, doomscrolling endlessly through timeless hours of eye candy, click-bait, memes, and what passes for “news” in the age of modern media, and generally behaving as if we are puppets without agency is almost certainly a very poor choice for the survival of humanity long-term, in addition to being just a shit way to live life. As poor a choice as that run-on sentence you just finished reading.

Did you know there are already people who feel they are losing their ability to think and reason because of their use of “AI” (it isn’t actually artificial intelligence, at all). Brain rot is a real thing happening to real people. Did you know there are people who have begun actually worshiping “AI” (LLMs) as gods? No kidding, this is a thing people are doing. I mean, certainly an LLM has demonstrable reality in our worldly existence, and certainly we do create our gods, but this seems like potentially a very bad idea likely to do real world harms, doesn’t it? What a world. Maybe do at least some of your own thinking? Your literal survival may depend on those skills at some point (almost certainly). Read a book. Hell, read a book about AI if you’re so interested. Read several. Go outside, you know – on your own, out in the actual world, seeing sights, listening to the sound of birdsong and breezes, and see where your path may take you. Look at an actual paper map. Study it and gain understanding of how the symbols represent the world. Take in the information without voice-over narration. Look at a flower up close. Watch wildlife exist in actual outdoor spaces – real creatures, alive, and aware. Breathe fresh air. Feel the sunshine or the rain on your skin. Have a conversation with a random live human being. Try out your social skills before they erode completely, leaving you unable to ask simple directions to a known location or unable to enjoy a party.

…Remember parties?..

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I had arrived home last night feeling pretty okay. The commute wasn’t all that bad (I took a route that, although busier, had no construction and thus less stress). I was feeling sort of cross fairly quickly, though. No fault of anyone else in the household, and I did my best to keep my bullshit in check (with good success). I just needed some quiet alone time; it’s been a ridiculously busy “people-filled” week, full of conversations, meetings, and interactions, and I had started to have that “everyone wants a piece of me” feeling. I felt a bit overwhelmed and encroached upon, which seriously conflicted with my desire to enjoy my Traveling Partner’s companionship at the end of a long (busy) day. He gently suggested maybe a nice shower, and I had been thinking maybe some video games – but the idea of either honestly just felt like “more work”, at least initially. He was right about the shower; it did a lot to put me in a better frame of mind, and after preparing dinner (cold sesame noodles with chicken) I felt more like playing video games for a little while. The evening ended well and I got over my bullshit and enjoyed the time with my partner. Self-care is an important and worthwhile practice.

Life being lived. Did you notice? Not one word about the news. My device mostly sat idle. We listened to music. Watched a couple videos. Hung out in the quiet good-natured merry vibe of a happy family at home. Dinner was yummy, though I think I could have done some things a little differently and gotten a better result. I didn’t use a device or an “AI” – the recipe is in an actual bound cookbook. I wrote notes in the margin while I was cleaning up dinner, so next time I have my own thoughts waiting for me when I make this again, some other time. Pen and paper – my vote for humanity’s greatest invention. (Reading and writing would likely be my opinion for the most valuable skills not directly related to survival.) Later in the evening a friend who lives on our street stopped by to visit awhile. All very human, life being lived. Awake. Aware. Present.

I’m just going to say it; ChatGPT not only is not a god, it’s not even your friend. (Neither are the tech bros who developed it on stolen intellectual property with personal profit as their primary goal.) This is true of any LLM currently in existence. The 2025 version of “AI” is not intelligent, has no cognition, does not reason, can not feel emotions or sensations, and is 100% dependent on the content it is trained on by human beings capable of actually doing, feeling, understanding, thinking, imagining, extrapolating, and really experiencing life. Why bother asking ChatGPT to do for you what you could do for yourself? Short-term efficiency? What about the long-term consequences of allowing your own skills to atrophy (or never allowing them to develop through use and practice and effort)?

Gudetama – the lazy egg. A meme, a character, a metaphor.

Life is sweet. Suck the juice out of every delicious fruitful moment! Choose your path. Choose your adventure. Try your skills (and your luck). Live. Isn’t having your own experience – and your own thoughts about it – more worthy of your human potential than relying on some predigested homogenous content built primarily on out-of-date information, provided to you in response to a prompt that you potentially took from someone else?? Be you. No LLM can do that for you. No response to a ChatGPT prompt can guide you as well as you can guide yourself through study, practice, and endless curiosity.

Are you still reading? I’m impressed. 😀 Thank you for indulging me. Sometimes I feel like an “old man yelling at clouds” or as if I am “screaming into the void“, when I rant about this stuff. Life is so precious and short, and our abilities need practice to maintain them. We’re pretty fancy primates – but we are primates, and some of what makes us so special is very much a “use it or lose it” proposition. Don’t diminish yourself through dependency on AI. Please. You are so much more than that. We become what we practice. What are you practicing?

It’s your choice. The journey is the destination; choose your path wisely. Isn’t it time to begin again?