Archives for posts with tag: be kind

People can be so matter-of-fact about their opinions. We treat them as facts. We get so spun up over differences between our own opinion and the opinion of others, we forget that relationships and people matter more. Many of us express opinions – strongly – for which we have limited actual knowledge or data with which to support some opinion that is often little better than a sound-bite we snatched from a social media feed, and become pushy when people we value disagree, in spite of our lack of any actual knowledge. It’s messy. Humans are complicated, and we regularly over-simplify what is happening around us, seeking to reduce every discussion to a very basic either/or dilemma, instead of embracing uncertainty and nuance and approaching the world with curiosity – and compassion.

Why am I on about this, this morning? Because the media and big corporate advertisers and our own elected officials are constantly trying to manipulate our opinions, not to get at “the truth”, but primarily for profit. Are you being bamboozled by bullshit? I saw a headline in my feed this morning that read “we asked 5 chefs what their favorite vanilla ice cream is, and they all said this” and laughed out loud. In what way is a sample size of 5 at all significant? It isn’t. That wasn’t news – it was barely sponsored content (and almost certainly AI generated) – it’s just an unoriginal narrative intended to sell a particular brand of ice cream, nothing more. Five people think it’s the best vanilla ice cream? Out of how many people who eat ice cream? Insignificant. This isn’t even the most ridiculous example of the mockery of truth on display for everyone to see (and potentially be mislead by).

If you want to see an example of massive manipulation of public opinion, I suggest the ongoing saga of the crimes of Jeffrey Epstein, which more and more looks (to me) like a very direct actual no-foolin’ cover-up of possible past crimes of our current president. No kidding – why else would he fight so very hard to redirect our attention? Ghislaine Maxwell went to prison for 20 years for “enticement of minors and sex trafficking of underage girls” – for Jeffrey Epstein and his friends. Doesn’t look like anyone but Ghislaine is going to see a conviction for their part in the crimes against Epstein’s victims. I promise you, he wasn’t the only person abusing those girls – there are too many photos of too many parties, and too many people, and too many stories. Trump himself is in too many pictures with Epstein, friendly, partying, laughing together, for him to be immune from scrutiny. They had history together socially. So. Here we all are, being lied to and mislead. (My opinion.)What are you going to do about it? Anything at all? Or is it just easier to allow the rapist-in-chief to redirect your attention?

Hollyhocks blooming. This is not an opinion.

I sip my coffee and let it go. People are what they are. We excuse and justify the bad acts of people we favor, but seek to harshly penalize anyone we “other” and look on with disdain. I don’t get how rapists get a pass, but immigrants willing to work hard seeking a better life for their families are criminalized. It’s a very peculiar thing, in my opinion. Our justice system and our government are broken and we don’t seem competent to fix them. Hell, we can’t even take care of the planet we live on, or our own sick or poor or elderly. We’re too busy chasing some illusion of happiness and scapegoating anyone we think may be in our way, while we disagree over who deserves what amount of pay for what sorts of labor and pretending that billionaires “earned” what they have.

I breath, exhale, and relax, and let it go – again. I’ve got my opinions. Clearly. You’ve got yours. That’s a certainty. Maybe humanity will eventually figure this shit out – or go extinct, another failed species, too stupid to survive. Wow. That sounds grim. I look out the window at the clear blue summer sky and sigh. I’m human, too. I’ve got my opinions, some of them suck and are wildly ill-informed, others demonstrate my potential as a human being in a more positive way. Sharing them is mostly pretty fucking pointless; most of humanity is standing around waiting to talk – or to be told what their opinion is by someone they assume knows more than they do, themselves. I’m not even in a bad mood this morning… I’m just annoyed by a headline that suggests a sample size of 5 matters at all, and I’m disappointed by the painful awareness that many people won’t even give that a second thought; they’ll just go buy the ice cream.

Potted geranium blooming. Also not an opinion.

My coffee is pleasant, well-made, icy. I slept well and deeply and woke feeling rested. Hell, I’m not in any pain right at the moment, none at all – not even my almost-ever-present headache! I take a moment to be present in this moment, aware of my lack of pain, savoring this experience long enough to really enjoy it. I don’t doubt it will pass, at some point, that’s the way moments work – but here, now, in this moment? I feel pretty good. It’s a lovely day. There are no bombs dropping here. No annoying voices in the background. The workday ahead looks routine and the work in front of me manageable. The bills are paid. The pantry is stocked. I’ve got a full tank of gas. I’ve got a Traveling Partner who loves me dearly and does a lot to make feel feel appreciated and wrapped in this enduring love we share. He makes all sorts of little things to delight me and make life better. I’ve got a nice little house. My stepson does everything he knows how to do, most days, to be helpful, to deepen his emotional intelligence, and to improve his “life skills” such that he’s a valued family member in our household – no small thing. My commute was pleasant and easy, in spite of there being much more traffic (due to timing). The office AC is working efficiently.

It is a better experience to appreciate the view than to be angry about the traffic.

There’s much to be grateful for, and I sit with those thoughts awhile. It’s unhealthy to stew in aggravation, bitterness, disappointment, and vexation with “humanity” – and it is a corrosive practice, generally, that never got me anywhere good. We become what we practice. Practice bitterness and cynicism, and life becomes characterized by the terrible things going on in the world, chronically disappointing, and we lose hope. Practice gratitude – authentically – and we become appreciative of the good things in our lives, and more easily able to be resilient in the face of terrible times, and potentially more able to find solutions, because we are clear-headed, and grounded in the things we know work. Or something. It works for me. I share these thoughts with you, because maybe you’ll find value here (for some values of “value”)… or be inspired to do more/better, or simply to begin again and make some small change for the better in your life. I smile to myself at the thought; these are my experiences, and also my opinions. Maybe they’re worth something, maybe they aren’t. I don’t even know that it matters to anyone but me…but I can hope.

I glance at the time. The clock is ticking. Are you ready to begin again? I am.

I get so much peace and clarity out on the trail. Any trail, really, whether new or familiar, it’s more about the walking, the seeing, and the thinking. Moments spent on self-reflection and contemplation are precious and often useful for finding (or creating) depth and breadth in my perspective.

… I keep walking…

A clear blue summer sky.

The tangerine sunrise gave the morning a lovely golden color, and as I drove to the trailhead I watched it develop, stretching over the horizon. The sun took me by surprise, briefly blinding me, seeming to pop up from behind distant hills without warning, a fiery orange. I arrived at the nature park, surprised by the dense mist clinging in the low places; it didn’t seem to have gotten cool enough for that, but there it was.

I walked with my thoughts until I reached a pleasant spot to linger, watching the Tualatin River flowing by. I don’t generally stop at this viewpoint, it’s often “crowded” (for some values of crowded, it’s a popular spot). I’ve got it to myself this morning, and I’m grateful for the shaded little bench. Comfortable. Protected from the heat of the day that hasn’t yet arrived. I remind myself not to linger too long – I plan to make banana bread before it gets too hot to have the oven on.

The world is a mess right now. People with power or vast sums of money are pretty commonly quite terrible and working aggressively to increase their power, clout, standing, or hoarded wealth as quickly as they can pry resources away from people who already have too little. Grim. America keeping immigrants and refugees in cages. Israel planning concentration camps for Palestinians who have (so far) survived genocide. Russia willing to slaughter every Ukrainian to the last standing in order to expand their real estate holdings. Chaos and bloodshed everywhere, and every single time there is some profit making endeavor involved. It’s grotesque. We could do so much better as human beings.

… I think about small ways I can do better, myself, to be the person I most want to be…

Who are you? Where does your path lead? Are you living a life that requires a ton of excuse making and rationalization? Are you defiant when someone knows more than you do? Are you smug when they know less? Are you kind, pleasant, and approachable? Are you building bridges or destroying them? Are you even paying enough attention in your own life to know who you are and why? These are questions worth answering – or at least asking and giving some thought to. You tell the world what your values are with your actions, wouldn’t it be wise to have some understanding of what you may be saying?

Are you being an unpleasant dick because you can’t be bothered to take a moment for human decency and basic consideration? (You’re not alone, if you are, but it’s a choice with consequences, and also likely to degrade the quality of your relationships.)

What are you doing to become the person you most want to be? Who is that? Have you figured that out?

The future is unwritten.

The sunshine of a new day stretches across the meadow. I look down the path ahead of me and consider the steps along this path. The journey won’t make itself. I have choices. My results will vary – but it’s my journey, my path, and my choices. Every step and every moment is a chance to begin again and to do better. I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s time to walk on. Time to begin again. I smile to myself and tell the woman in the mirror to go take a hike. The clock is ticking.

I missed a day of writing, yesterday. I think. Did I? I did.

Yesterday’s sunrise

I went walking on a familiar local path, yesterday, enjoying the mild summer air, thoughts on other things, and returned home to work. The work day was busy, routine, and relaxed. When I finished with work, I played a video game for a little while, enjoying that with undivided attention; the Anxious Adventurer would make dinner, as is the practice on Tuesdays. A pleasant day that passed quickly without much to say. It was a good day.

This morning I slept a little later, and hit the trail at a similar time, noticing that already the sunrise comes a little later and the days are a little shorter, as is the way with changing seasons.

A new day

As I walk, I realize I don’t recall the details of the sunrise, this morning, though I am certain I saw it. I chuckle to myself. It’s not as if my mind is on weighty matters this morning, I’m just walking and thinking, and listening to birdcalls. The weeds along the edge of the meadow are quite tall in spots left unmown. They are peculiarly dry and brown in places where herbicides have been applied, near the edge of the vineyard.

I get to a convenient picnic table, not quite halfway, and I sit down to write, which is when I notice that I didn’t write yesterday. It’s fine. It’s not like I write because I am required to do so. It’s reasonable to skip it when I’ve nothing to say, or, as was the case yesterday, I’m simply too caught up in living life, present in the moment.

I’m trying to avoid looking at the news. It’s a shit show of human cruelty, these days, and I just don’t need the stress and anxiety that comes with being immersed in endless repetitions of the same reports of people being horrible to each other, and the wealthy and powerful continuing to profit from the misery created by the current administration. It’s all pretty grotesque and I just don’t need to fill my awareness with that crap in every moment. So… I don’t.

A small squirrel approaches me hesitantly as I sit, still and quiet, meditating. It approaches close enough to place a tiny unfelt hand on my pant leg, looking into my face as I look back, before darting away. I laugh out loud with real delight. My morning is made in this one brief moment.

I hear voices, loud but distant. Farm workers in the vineyard, calling conversation or instructions to each other in Spanish. I am unavoidably reminded of the current trauma and day-to-day anxiety being experienced by America’s immigrants and migrant workforce due to constant threats of raids and fears of deportation. Sometimes I think the wealthy really deserve to experience the sudden loss of available day laborers and domestic staff that would certainly be one direct outcome of these horrible attacks on humanity, but realistically I know the amount of suffering that would be inflicted would devastate those of lesser means, who would also be affected. I smile grimly to myself, although it isn’t funny, as I wonder just who exactly these rich fuckwits think is going to take these jobs (that often pay very poorly for hard work in poor conditions) if we cut ourselves off from the immigrants and migrant workers who fill them now? Are folks ready to pay citizen workers what Americans demand (and require for a living wage) for their labor? I sure don’t think so.

… One might almost think the very wealthy want slave labor, and might not even pay minimum wage if there were no legal requirement to do so. Human greed is some ugly shit…

I sigh and watch the morning sunlight through the leaves of the oaks along the path. Human beings can be pretty terrible, and it’s quite disappointing that we haven’t yet risen above our worst characteristics as beings, though we’ve had hundreds of years to do so. Very disappointing. I frown as an off-leash dog runs past, in this “dogs must be on a leash” area. I’m sure the owner has found some crappy excuse for this, a way to justify exempting themself from the rules. This. This is why we can’t have nice things. It’s a small thing, but the small things add up until we become terrible people.

I sit thinking about that. It’s not an “other people” thing… I think about my driving. I could do better. Every day, there’s something I could be doing to be more the person I most want to be. To be a better person today than I was yesterday. The clock is always ticking on this journey of discovery, healing, and growth.

Our choices have consequences. The journey is the destination.

… It’s already time to begin again. I can do better – can’t you? Small changes over time can make big differences. Maybe we can change the world?

It’s been lovely having a bit of a vacation. The clock keeps ticking. The wheel keeps turning. Eventually every pleasant vacation drops us off at the starting point to begin living life in “the usual way” (more or less). I’m not unhappy with that. The power of taking a break comes from the way (and amount) it deviates from the day-to-day. (This is why a “stay-cation” can still be a wonderful interlude that refreshes and recharges us.)

A familiar sight on a familiar trail.

A new beginning, a restart, a chance to set off on the journey with new perspective is one of the things I value each time I take a vacation (or even a break, or after a long weekend). If I’ve learned something new about myself, I take advantage of that new understanding in some way. If I’ve used the time to build a new habit or make a lifestyle change, I carry it forward into my everyday living. Practical. This approach can be so effective that I’ve even taken time off specifically to begin or end some behavior in order to focus on that change before resuming routine living, in order to “make it stick” more effectively.

I finish this morning’s walk just as the rain begins spattering the windshield. Of course it’s raining. I’m not even surprised. I felt it coming.

My arthritis has been griefing me all week. The amount of pain I’m in nearly every day is just fucking stupid, and unreasonable, and difficult to manage, and seems wholly “unfair”, and I mostly just don’t even complain about it or bring it up beyond the occasional mention (in my lived actual life), though I mention it relatively frequently here. It’s mostly pointless to say anything much about it. There’s nothing much anyone can do about it, and I’d rather not be defined by my pain or allow it to dictate the boundaries of my experience. Besides, everyone hurts sometimes, and we can only ever really understand our own pain. It’s truly difficult to understand the magnitude of someone else’s pain, and far too easy to dismiss it as being somehow less than our own. I’d rather not discuss it or argue the point; it’s not a competition. I think it sucks to be in pain, and I’m often cross about it while trying my best not to make it anyone else’s problem (especially my Traveling Partner); we’ve all got our own pain to deal with. If you’re in pain, I’m sorry to hear it, and I wish that it were in my power to ease your suffering.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. The rainy weather pretty reliably means more arthritis pain. I smile to myself, somewhat mirthlessly. I enjoy the rain so much! The spectacular mismatch between my delight in rainy days and the pain I’m in on rainy days is not lost on me. If I’m lucky, my delight and my joy in life may distract me from my pain for some little while.

Are you in pain? I get it. Please take care of yourself. Take it easy when you can (and when you must), and set healthy boundaries. Pain doesn’t have to become your whole world – you can choose differently (often)(sometimes). Your results may vary.

When I arrived.

Yesterday was a nice finish to my vacation days, although a storm blowing in from the sea ultimately chased me back to the car and got me headed home a little earlier than I’d planned. It was still quite a lovely day. It has been a supremely relaxing and restful week. I needed that more than I knew.

When I left.

I didn’t mind the storm. Like change, the weather simply is, and it’s not to be argued with. lol It was too blustery for plein air painting, and I didn’t really mind. I adapted to the conditions (easier than trying to argue with the weather). I enjoyed walking on the beach and exploring the tide pools. I took pictures of the rocks and waves and the storm moving in. I enjoyed returning home to see that a rose I had planted the year after we moved in had finally bloomed. (She took her sweet damned time with that, but she’s beautiful, and worth the wait.) The hollyhocks are blooming too, but colossal, and clearly “in the wrong spot” as planted. As with any garden, I learn with the seasons, and make changes based on what I learn along the way. (It’s a metaphor.)

“Golden Opportunity” blooming.

So… Here I am. Now. Being. Listening to the rain fall, and reflecting on the moment. My tinnitus is louder than the rain, but my pain is managed. Good enough. I’ve got things to do, and it’s time to begin again.

Have you ever thought about how few people leave any sort of lasting mark on the world, or the lives of others in an individual mortal lifetime? Humanity’s impact on the planet, other life forms, and each other, generally, is pretty obvious (and pretty reliably negative, which is unfortunate), but as individual human beings, by far the vast majority of us will pass through these mortal lives almost unnoticed, and leave no lasting legacy of the life we lived. Maybe, if we’ve worked hard and been quite fortunate, we’ll leave something of value behind, in cash or assets, that our heirs may or may not appreciate in the way that we hoped. Most of us will live, die, and be forgotten.

… That’s a huge downer, isn’t it? My own experiences of “existential dread” most commonly center on this awareness that it’s quite likely I’ll be forgotten once I’m gone…

The closest thing we human beings have that approximates immortality is to have some sort of lasting legacy that endures beyond our limited, all too brief, human lifetime. The written works of writers, philosophers, historians, and storytellers of all sorts may survive thousands of years. The paintings, drawings, and sculptures of visual artists working in durable media may survive many lifetimes beyond the death of the artist who made them. More modern art forms have yet to prove themselves, but recorded music, and film, endures – as long as the means to view them survives. Architects design buildings and crews of builders, engineers, and tradespeople work to bring them into being – where these survive, a name may survive with them, but only one (or few) of many.

I fret about what my own legacy may be, when this brief mortal life ends. Will my art survive? Will it be known, even to some few, or lost over time due to lack of appeal or discarded as lacking value? Will my small but thoughtfully selected porcelain collection become treasured by someone else, or be sold piecemeal as part of clearing out the clutter I left behind? What about my books? My written work? The contents of my email? Will the things that were important to me have lasting importance for anyone else? Will I be remembered? If I am, what will I be remembered for? That seems like an important question, although considering the likelihood that I’ll simply be among the vast forgotten multitudes as soon as I’m gone, the seeming importance of the question may be an illusion.

A sunny summer day, an oak grove, a meadow.

I walked down the trail this morning thinking about legacy and mortality, and meaning and purpose, and wondering again “what we’re here for”. How long after I’m gone will my beloved say my name with longing and love, before his memory begins to fade? Once he’s gone, what then? Who will continue to “say my name” and cling to their memories of me?

I’m not thinking about these things in a sorrowful way, just contemplating what it takes to leave behind an enduring legacy of love and high regard? I am asking myself what I hope to be remembered for? I have come to understand that it isn’t enough simply to be remembered. Some pretty terrible human beings are remembered through history, and I have no interest in being one of those. It’s more complicated than simply being remembered, isn’t it? Hitler is remembered. Andrew Jackson is remembered. Jack the Ripper is remembered. Saddam Hussein is remembered. No doubt Trump will be remembered. These people are not remembered for anything good they did. Their legacy is of trauma and crime, and how terrible human beings can treat other human beings. Their names evoke cautionary admonishments and document terrible deeds. There are worthier things to be known for.

What do you want to be known for? Are you even doing the things that have that potential?

One hot air balloon drifting across a blue summer sky.

I walked and thought. Later I’ll have coffee with a friend, run a couple errands, get the oil changed in my car, and return home to my Traveling Partner’s love. None of that holds any particular potential to leave a lasting “legacy”. These are moments in one human life. Perhaps it is enough to simply live authentically, and to love well, and treat people with kindness and consideration?

I watch the leaves of trees quaking gently in the morning breeze, and enjoy the feeling of sunshine on my back. It’s a lovely morning, and perhaps the best possible choice is to embrace this moment, savor it, and live my life as it is? Maybe it isn’t for us to decide what our legacy could, or may, be at all? I suppose it is eventually in the hands (minds) of others, regardless what we may do to influence or guide that outcome. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I keep walking. I can wonder, but I can’t know – funny to recognize and acknowledge that with such ease. The question of “legacy” now seems potentially an obstacle. A bit of misdirection. Perhaps it is far more important simply to become the person I most want to be, living well, loving deeply, and present, here, now?

I sigh and smile. I hear the clock ticking. I keep on walking. Regardless whether I am remembered or forgotten, I am enjoying this life, and savoring the many little joys in it. Each moment is uniquely its own experience, whether anyone else remembers or not; I’m here, now, living these moments. It’s enough, isn’t it? I think about it awhile longer. Soon, I’ll begin again, grateful for the chance, and the moments.