Archives for posts with tag: be kind

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.

I woke up slowly this morning, slipping gradually from strange distressing dreams of poverty, privation, and desperate futile “choices”. My dreams were anxious and restless. I dreamt of drinking terrible coffee on a sweltering morning, sitting on the edge of broken second-hand patio furniture – no AC, windows thrown wide to non-existent breezes through the night, hoping for a moment of cooler temperatures. I dreamt fretfully of having to choose between paying the electric bill and buying food, and of having to choose between filling a prescription or putting gas in an unreliable car. Would it even start next time I needed it? I dreamt of times gone by, and times I’ve never lived but recognize to be within the realm of possibility in a human lifetime. I dreamt of being in my final years, without means, without partnership, alone and deeply concerned about seeing another sunrise. I squinted at the rising sun in my dreams, anxious, then woke slowly to the lights coming on in my room, here, now, okay. Fucking hell. I’m not sure I’d call my dreams “nightmares” – there was no terror, really, only sorrow, and despair, and trying to so hard to make something of nothing last long enough to be… enough. My dreams were drenched in the anxiety of effort and insufficiency – and even in my dreams I found myself trying to find the best of it, to find the small joys in that dismal existence, sitting quietly with my coffee watching the sun rise. It wasn’t enough – but I felt some tiny fragment of hope and clung to it desperately.

…Fucking hell. I definitely do not need more nights like that

Still, I sip my (relatively shitty) cup of coffee this morning, thinking about luck, circumstances, good fortune, and how very hard a person can work at life, at trying to provide for their family, at trying to live well within limited means – and how easy it is to fail at all of that, anyway. People get mired in despair because life can be hard. Very hard. Sometimes it not only seems like there is “no way out” – it may even be true in some limited sense. Rough. Sometimes doing better or “finding our way” requires really difficult decision-making, or even what feels like a complete “do-over”. Scary. None of that is easy. You know what is easy? Being a jerk to people when you do not know, or can not understand, what they are going through. Super easy to be a raging asshole, lacking in compassion and consideration. (For a choice bad example, we need only look to Congress trying to pass a budget.) Maybe don’t do that, though, right? Just don’t be a jerk to people.

Simple joys are worth savoring and it doesn’t take much effort to be kind.

It’s a good morning to reflect with gratitude on my good fortune, and where I am in life right now. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I embrace the quiet somewhat rainy looking morning with a measure of joy; I am not in that place where my dreams placed me. I’m not wealthy (not even “affluent”). I have enough to meet my basic needs. My Traveling Partner and I are comfortable together, managing life together. We provide for each other; it’s likely neither of us would be in the same place in life without each other. I smile thinking of the cute 3D printed earrings I am wearing this morning – he made them for me. That he made them with me in mind matters so much more than their intrinsic value. They’re plastic – super cute and I love them. Diamonds could not ever please me on the same level at all – their cold sparkle would only remind me of what I don’t have and can’t (or have not) achieved. They would exist to say something to someone else, and I would wear them only to “make a statement” – and one which I don’t personally feel moved to make. I’m not competing with the world. I’m walking my own path. I don’t aspire to diamond jewelry – only to loving and being loved, living well (within our limited means), and finding joy in a life that is enough. But that’s me. You do you, I guess. 😀

Who are you? What do you really want out of life? Where does your path lead? You will become what you practice – what are you practicing?

My mind wanders. I reflect awhile on how best to avoid being a jerk to people (even when I’m tired, or in pain, or aggravated by something). So many people suffering, doing what they can with too little, just trying to get by… I think awhile on being kind, being considerate, demonstrating concern and compassion, and how best to be the woman I most want to be. “Being and becoming” seems to be a long, sometimes rather slow journey from the greed and demanding inconsiderate foolishness of childhood to … something else. Something better, ideally, something practiced and thoughtful, and patient, and wise, and… fuck I’ve got work to do on this “being my best self” stuff! So many negative examples out there in the world, too – I know who I don’t want to be. I know how I don’t want to behave. I guess it is a starting point, eh?

The clock is ticking, but there’s time to begin again. Do better. You have choices.

I’m sipping my coffee and reflecting on my journey, and things generally. My sleep was restless and filled with peculiarly realistic dreams of places, people, and circumstances that were in no way actually real in my own life. It was a bit unsettling to wake as if from an altogether different life into the life I live. It’s not the first time I’ve had such dreams, and I doubt it will be the last.

I made the drive to work watching the night sky transform at daybreak. Venus was bright above the horizon, and the sky was smudged with orange and rusty hues. I caught glimpses of Mt Hood from a couple vantage points that don’t offer a convenient place to stop, and struggled a bit to avoid being distracted by the beauty. Safety first! I have places to be, and loved ones who would like to see me again when I return. That was a pleasant thought in the moment. Something about the morning kept reminding me of “home” – not my home, now, but some long gone time and place that I can’t return to. It only exists in my memory. A spring afternoon, the buzz of insects, a screened in porch, and the hum of a fan, Easter shoes that pinched. A summer morning, the heavy scent of southern blossoms, the thick humid air, the clink of ice cubes in cold glasses, and sweat that doesn’t dry. Only memories, now – even most of the people are…gone. I sighed to myself as I drove, letting the thoughts drift through my mind like clouds. Nothing to be concerned about, just the morning of a new day, and some thoughts to get me started. It’s funny – I often “do my best writing” while I’m driving, and can’t jot down the words. lol An interesting challenge is finding them again, later. I rarely do. I find other words, other thoughts.

Strange journey, life, isn’t it? We each walk our own path. We’re each having our own experience. We persist in sharing our advice with other travelers as if they could ever truly make use of what we have learned ourselves – maybe, sometimes, in rare instances we really can learn from the experiences of others. I often wonder how true that really is. We are our own cartographers, and these “maps” we make aren’t very helpful to anyone else, generally. The moments and the journeys are uniquely our own. What do you actually get from reading these words? When I point out that we become what we practice, do you understand what I’m pointing out to you? How it applies to your own practices? The ways it could be useful to change your experience? How easily leaving dishes in the sink “now and then” becomes dishes in the sink more often? How difficult it can be to adopt a new better habit without committed practice? How easily anger becomes a character trait instead of a moment of emotion, when we yield to our anger and relish “venting” our frustration instead of steadily practicing some other approach? When I suggest practicing self-care, do you consider it and take action? When I observe that my chronic device use quickly became hard-to-resist doomscrolling and that I had to change my practices to preserve my emotional health, did you reflect on your own, and the effect it has had on you? You have a moment to make a change, to become the person you most want to be. What will you do with it?

I’m not telling you how to live – I’m just wondering what you get from my observations over time, or if it is merely an entertaining distraction?

We’re each walking our own path. Each tending our own garden. (These are metaphors.)

I’m just one human being, walking my own hard mile, facing my own trauma, and even the consequences of my own actions and choices. I’m grateful (and fortunate) to be where I am now, but there are no promises I’ll “always” have it like this – I’ve lived through far far worse. We are mortal creatures. We’re fortunate any time we can share the journey. I sip my coffee and think about love. Our choices in life only get us so far; some of it is also pure luck and the timing of circumstances. Each moment is precious – and unrepeatable. I reflect on Ichi-go ichi-e, and vita contemplativa – useful concepts. I practice non-attachment, and seek a sense of contentment and sufficiency. Along the way, I’ve found (often but not always) real actual no bullshit happiness. This surprises me, and I embrace the moments as I find them. Chasing happiness never got me there. Funny how that works.

Each moment as temporary as a flower.

My coffee is almost gone. The waning moon is faint in the cerulean blue of the morning sky. I’m okay right now – for all the values of okay – and I’m grateful. Nice moment. I breathe, exhale, and relax, and think about weekend gardening to come. There are strawberries to water, and arugula to plant. There are radish seedlings to thin, and a clematis vine to plant in a pot. There are new moments to live, and new thoughts to think. I smile to myself, grateful to have the chance to share words with you over my coffee, however you choose to use them. I wonder for a moment where your path may lead? Then, I get ready to begin again.

All along the trail, flowers are blooming. Mostly trees and shrubs, it is too early for roses and other summer-flowering things. The sunrise begins as an orange smudge on the horizon, Venus very bright in the morning sky. I catch a glimpse of what I think was the ISS, and smile. What an amazing feat of science, technology, engineering, professional commitment, and diplomacy! I guess, considering the way things are going these days, it makes sense that it is nearing the end of its expected usefulness.

Pear blossoms (at the edge of my garden)

Holy shit, when did human beings become so terrible? Has humanity always been actually awful, or has it been just those few monsters in our midst making things dreadful for everyone? We’ve really got to stop electing terrible people with malicious intentions to powerful positions. It’s not a reliable means to creating a good world in which people can thrive together. It’s frankly unpleasant and horrifying. We should probably really consider what we teach young people that so many arrive at adulthood lacking critical thinking skills or basic ethics.

I shake my head and keep walking.

Cherry blossoms and hedge flowers.

The trail takes me past a small chapel. This part of the path passes by a parking lot, and is paved and lit. It wanders through tall oak trees. These grow tall and quite narrow, being so close together.

Oregon White Oaks

I keep walking until I reach my halfway point and sit for a little while, avoiding my thoughts, spending time simply taking in my surroundings. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I listen to the robins singing their morning songs. I can hear the nearby creek and the distant traffic. A chipmunk approaches hesitantly before darting away. The sky is filled with the light of dawn and sunrise, and the hills to the west are hues of subtle blues. The rows of grape vines in the vineyard that the trail wraps as it heads into denser trees towards the creek are becoming more visible and the artificial lights I can still see from here are beginning to go out, section by section. The air smells of Spring. It’s a lovely quiet moment and I have the trail to myself.

Here comes the sun.

I sit awhile longer with my thoughts. Too soon the world will catch up with me; it’s a work day, and a busy one. I already know my calendar is full and my task list is long. I sigh quietly. Could be worse. I’m fortunate, and I am grateful for my opportunities. I’m not complaining about the burdens that come with them. I’m just not ready to get started. I’m enjoying this moment.

Enjoying the moment

I smile to myself when I remember (again) that I am working from home today. I can take my breaks in my garden, and enjoy lunch with my Traveling Partner. The clock is always ticking, and it’s important to enjoy the moments we have together. There’s no knowing what the future may hold. I take another breath of the Spring-scented air. It’s time to begin again.

It’s a new day. What will you do with it?

I had a moment yesterday. Feelings of loneliness and despair began to well up seemingly out of “nowhere”. It wasn’t “nowhere”, of course, these are troubling, baffling times for ethical compassionate people who want (and work) to see good in the world. I took a moment to shed some private tears and regain my balance, to self-soothe, and step back from thoughts of things I can’t influence directly or change in any practical immediate way.

“Breathe, exhale, relax.” I reminded myself. It helped and the evening moved on.

There’s still blue sky overhead.

If you’re hurting and struggling with the strange terrible times we’re in, you’re not alone, I promise you. Be kind. Be considerate. Be your best self in spite of seeming to be surrounded by a world of monsters. Look with scorn on terrible people, but don’t let them transform you. Don’t become the thing you find detestable. Don’t let the bad acts and cruelty of the world make you cruel, yourself. Resist the poor choices your own anger and fear nudge you towards and stand firm on your resolve and your convictions. Be the person you most want to be, not whatever facsimile of humanity it may seem that you are expected or encouraged to become by circumstances, systems, or corrupt individuals. Be honest. Be real. Speak truth to power. Make the wisest choices you can for the greatest good within your family, tribe, and community. Be the change you wish to see in the world. It’s not a platitude if you make it real in your own experience.

Remember that the goblin king has no power over you. He is a farce. He is a fiction. Make your own choices. Use your own words. Be the main character in your story, instead of an NPC in the game of life.

It’s a new day. A new beginning.

This morning I watch the sunrise. I listen to birds singing cheerily along the trail. No tears. I am okay right now. Sometimes shit gets hard because I actually do care, and all by itself that can be a hell of a burden to bear. It’s an interesting path I’ve chosen in life, and it isn’t paved, and I don’t have a map. Sometimes the going is easy, sometimes it is difficult. Regardless, it is a worthy journey of being and becoming, and I walk on.

I sigh quietly as I walk. Trolls and monsters and lines on maps – it’s a strange and sometimes scary world, but the journey is the destination and it isn’t really “about” any of that. Those are worldly distractions. I remind myself to be present, here, now. To be kind. To be the woman I most want to be. To make wise choices. To listen well and deeply, and to love with my whole heart.

I listen to my footsteps on the trail. The clock is ticking. It’s time to begin again.