Archives for posts with tag: being and becoming

It is the fall equinox. I took the day off from work to reflect, and to find balance. It’s the equinox, after all. It is a time for balance, day and night briefly the same length, a reminder that balance can be found, but not held static. Balance is not a permanent condition.

Lincoln City, at Road’s End, before sunrise.

I sip a hot coffee. The paper cup is warm in my hands. The morning is chillier here on the coast. I’m grateful for the foresight to have worn a warm sweater. I listen to the roar of the waves and the sea breeze, watching the sky begin to lighten, as daybreak, then dawn, each arrive in turn. As the dawn lights the horizon, I begin watching the waves roll in, in rows, stretching along the now-visible beach. The horizon itself is obscured by morning fog or dense clouds. I hear sea birds taking flight, calling to each other.

Where do I find balance? I guess anywhere that I create it, from whatever chaos is handy in the moment. Balance is in the choices I make. Same with “finding my center”. I create that center, that firm foundation, that moment to pause, to reflect, to breathe, and to simply be. I know that I’ve made it sound too easy. It’s not reliably easy. I sometimes choose poorly, or attempt to snatch a sense of balance from a moment that wanted something else of me entirely. As with painting, composition matters – just because a sight exists, doesn’t make it visually beautiful, worth putting on canvas – and so too with moments and seeking (or finding, or creating) balance. It’s not always “time for that”.

Moments later, same location, different perspective.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. This is a good place for meditation, and a good moment for it. I take time for that as the sun rises, watching the waves, listening to the sea breeze, letting my thoughts float gently by, observed but not engaging with them. I focus on my breath, and the waves, and the distant horizon. There is time later for other things. For now, this is enough.

… Time passes. What’s left of my coffee is now cold. So are my hands. Curious gulls stand very near the car, eyeing me curiously. The misty western horizon has taken on a delicate shell pink hue, and the waves are steely gray edged in frothy white as they reach the shallows along the shore. Beautiful.

After meditating, before walking on the beach.

Certainly there is enough daylight now to easily see the steep path down to the beach. It’s quite chilly this morning, but I’m warmly dressed, appropriate for the chill of an autumn walk along the ocean beach early in the morning. I’ll take my time and enjoy the sights. The morning is mine, for finding or creating balance, on a lovely fall equinox. Later, I’ll return home and prepare a lovely meal and celebrate at home. It’s nothing particularly fancy, and doesn’t need to be (although the recipe I’m following is complex, and the dish suited to a celebration). I’m simply observing the change of seasons my own way.

…Then, I’ll begin again.

Pause and reflect.

I’m just saying, it’s a short distance from anger, resentment, and thoughts of paybacks to becoming the person you despise for the same characteristics you’ve adopted over time, as your anger and hate ate away at your good heart, good values, and sense of self. We can’t correct the injustices we see in the world by becoming less just, ourselves. We can’t force the world to be a kinder more compassionate place through violence. Worth thinking about, isn’t it? I mean, generally speaking, there is value in self-reflection, self-awareness, and becoming the person we most want to be through willful practice of those qualities we value most highly, isn’t there?

… I’m not telling you what to do, just pointing out that you are making choices (we all are)…

I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s a week of cool nights and warm afternoons. In the morning, I wear my fleece. In the afternoons, I remove layers and enjoy bare arms and the sun on my back. The darkness on the trail before dawn requires my headlamp. The walk after work from the university library to the parking nearby is lit brightly by summer sunshine. It is time for the season to change (here), and I feel it everywhere. Fall is coming.

The trail is dry under my feet, and the night sky is dark. I get about half way, and it’s still quite dark. I turn off my headlamp and sit quietly, gazing into the night sky, scattered with stars, the thin crescent moon rising in the east. I enjoy the quiet.

“A season for change,” I say to myself, softly. Aren’t they all, though? Change is. I sit awhile listening to the zing and buzz of my tinnitus, and the sound of my heartbeat in my ears, like a ticking clock. I remember a time when even the recollection of a ticking clock (and definitely the sound of one) could immediately transform me into a seething quivering wreck, breathless with anxiety, and keep me from sleeping. Not now. Now a ticking clock is only a ticking clock. Oh, surely, a ticking clock is also a useful metaphor, a reminder that time passes, that moments are individual and precious, and time itself finite… but it no longer has the power to keep me awake at night or cause an internal solitary war of nerves. We made it up, that ticking clock, and it need not hold power over us.

… Let the clock tick. It will, regardless. Be here, now, in this present moment. Let change happen. Embrace it, and make each change another milestone on your journey. Better to grab each moment of joy and savor it before it passes, than to fight circumstances we do not control.

I sit with my thoughts awhile. I’ve got time. The day begins quite early, this morning, and this lovely moment, now, is mine to enjoy. “Nothing to see here.” True. I’m just one woman, alone in the darkness, waiting for daybreak, enjoying the quiet, alone. Where will this day take me? To my desk and to work, and later to return home. It’s not fancy or extraordinary or particularly interesting as moments go, but it is a lovely quiet one (aside from my tinnitus, which is very loud this morning). It’s enough to see another sunrise. I sit waiting for the inevitable changes.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. Later, I’ll begin again, and face new, other, changes.

It is a new day. Daybreak comes, revealing the trail I walked to get to this place, and the trail ahead that I will follow next. The map is not the world. The trail is not the journey. The plan is not the experience. The choice is not the outcome. The whole of our lifetime is not any one moment we live. It is a worthy endeavor to live each moment fully present, to find out where our path truly leads… but it isn’t as easy as wanting to. There is effort and will involved. Choices. Action.

I smile, watching the sun rise on this new day.

Ask the questions. Do the verbs.

Chilly Monday morning. There is a faint veil of autumn mist clinging to the trees along the riverbank, and above the meadow grass. The vineyard is still a dark smudge across my view, in the predawn gloom. Daybreak arrives quietly. Hard to believe it is a Monday.

I walked the trail on this chilly morning, hands jammed into my pockets for warmth, admitting to myself the whole way that I should have worn my fleece. I feel fall coming. The morning sky is gray and cloudy to the west. The eastern horizon shows off a bit of orange as the sun rises. I stop at my halfway point to enjoy the moment, and write a bit with cold fingers, grateful that I thought to jam a handful of tissues into my pocket as I left the house this morning; I’ve already used them up.

I watched this video over the weekend. Timely. I recommend it.

I sit thinking about some incredibly worthy ideas I have embraced over the past year or two (or three, or five, i don’t know, the time passes quickly). Amor Fati. Vita Contemplativa. Ichi-go Ichi-e. Along with accepting impermanence, and practicing non-attachment, these ideas (paths? practices?) have been useful perspective-changing and have served to deepen my engagement with, and presence in, my own experience every day.

… I make more time to read books and waste less time pointlessly scrolling.

… I make more room to listen to my own thoughts and be comfortably alone with myself.

… I make enjoying each moment a practice of its own, and allow myself to savor small joys such that they linger in my recollection.

… I make my lived experience my focus more of the time, present in the moment, and recognize how finite and precious this mortal lifetime is, without grieving its brevity.

… I face change more comfortably.

Seems worth it. That’s a lot of value out of a handful of ideas. There are verbs involved. Choices. Curiosity. Study. Each moment and each day, I choose the path I walk. You do too. What will your legacy be? What memories will you leave behind? Will you be considered fondly when you are remembered, or an unpleasant footnote in someone’s memory of old hurts? Choose. Then choose again. Every day, you have the power to choose to be the person you most want to be.

… Choose wisely…

…Who are you now? Are you your ideal of who you could be? Are you letting yourself down? What could you choose differently to become more that person you most want to be? I sit with the questions as dawn becomes day… And then I begin again.

In much the same way as “the clothes make the man”, the sunrise makes the day. To be most brief; it doesn’t. At all.

I say this after driving to the trailhead this morning watching a sunrise so colorful and splendid that it obscured all possible awareness of what tends to make such beautiful displays as dawn becomes day (which is typically some sort of terrible pollution in the air, or wildfires, rarely anything good).

I tried to snap a picture of this morning’s unbelievably beautiful sunrise. The sort of bold magentas and subtle lavenders that I feel inspired to paint. They seem unreal even in a photograph. The magenta and lavender hues gave way to bolder oranges, and tangerine and gold, and a vaguely bilious yellow green strip along the horizon as the sun began to rise above the hilltops. In between the streaked clouds, a delicate cerulean blue peaked through. No photograph could capture this tremendous display of beauty and color. I did try. lol

You had to be there.

By the time I reached the trailhead, the sunrise was over. The morning is quite cloudy and hints at rain. The ferocious heat has abated somewhat, and it is cooler than it has been, pleasantly so. The morning is quiet, but here in this place, I do hear the traffic on the adjacent highway as I lace up my boots. I listen to little birds chirping and carrying on, and I wonder what they are so excited about first thing?

Yesterday was interesting. Most of it was quite lovely, and spent in the good company of my beloved Traveling Partner. There were some moments that I will reflect on fondly for some time to come and I feel very loved. There were also a couple of moments that I could have done without, and I feel my expression change when I recall them. Humans being human. The moments don’t define the day.

I set off down the trail. I hear distant voices. I see hot air balloons in the sky, visible but quite far away. I walk the marsh trail, more meadow than marsh this time of year. I walk along the river. Somewhere nearby a duck quacks. A chipmunk darts across the path, as it turns and winds through the oak groves.

The map is not the world.

The journey is the destination, and the map is not the world. Our plan is not our experience. What we choose to wear, the words we say, the things we have or yearn for, these are not the essence of who we are. It’s closer to the truth to say that we are the path we walk, the choices we make, and the accumulated outcomes of those choices. We are the lived expression of our values – our real values, not the ones we say are dear to us, nor some trendy popular sound bite. A flag sticker on a vehicle doesn’t make the driver a patriot, nor does a catchy slogan make a responsible citizen (or a good leader). We tell the world (and those dearest to us) who we are through our actions, everything else is more like something we’re wearing, I think. Still chosen. We are, more than anything, the sum of our choices.

… Choose wisely…

I smile thinking about precious lived moments of love with my Traveling Partner. We’re unquestionably human, both of us, but g’damn do I ever love this particular human being with all my heart. I easily forgive and overlook little hurtful moments because they are few and only moments. No one moment defines the profound enduring love we share. He “gets me”. We know each well and deeply. Our lives have become so entwined over time I can’t imagine what life would be like without him. My smile deepens, recalling the unexpected gift he gave me yesterday, a small figure of a favorite anime character. Doesn’t matter why this character is among my favorites, but it certainly says something about me to see them there on my desk together: Wonder Woman, Major Kusanagi, Professor Chaos, and now Kento Nanami joins them. Aspirational role models? Avatars? Totems? I don’t know… little godlings perhaps, standing as light posts on a quiet street on a dark night. They represent qualities I seek and embrace within myself, or acknowledge and work to overcome. Definitely a bit of both; our heroes are as flawed as we are ourselves.

Who are your heroes? Why them?

I sit at my halfway point thinking and writing. Realizing that I don’t actually know who my partner’s heroes are. Not explicitly. I don’t think I’ve ever asked, though we share more of our inner lives with each other than most people likely do. Interesting. What an odd thing. I could guess, but guessing is a pretty poor way to gather information. I think I’ll ask sometime.

I sit awhile thinking about this man I love and who loves me so dearly in return. We’ve traveled some miles together. I hope we share many more. He has become part of me. This love we share is one of the best parts of who I have become over time.

If the sunrise doesn’t make the day, what does? No one moment is the entirety of a day unless we allow it to become so. A day is not the entire lifetime, any more than a step is the whole journey. We have so many opportunities to begin again if things go sideways or we step off the path.

What does “make the man”? For me? His values. His lived values. It’s not necessary for someone to tell you what they value with their words, their actions tell you all you need to know. What are you telling the world about who you are and what you value, with your actions? Are you satisfied with the picture your actions paint? If not, you have choices, and you can begin again.

I sigh and glance at the time. There’s this trail, and the day, ahead of me and the clock is ticking. I smile and stretch and get to my feet.

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?