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But What Will You Do About That?

March 22, 2026 //
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I’ve started including a disclaimer on new posts asserting my refusal to use available LLM tools for writing. I’m annoyed to feel that doing so is necessary, but here we are. I like writing. Why would I cheat to be faster or more frequent, or worse – to camouflage a lack of anything to say? Ridiculous. No thank you. Keep those crappy LLM “tools” away from me. I’ll just write, thanks. 😆

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

In all seriousness, adding that disclaimer is at least a real action I can take to express my objection to having bullshit “AI” garbage forced on me everywhere. I don’t like it. I don’t use it. I’d prefer to keep my own mind sharp, and also to take the time to learn new things myself.

Getting an early start on a new day.

Brunch with a friend, later, on the other side of this trail.  I’m eager to enjoy brunch, but I’m in no great hurry, so I wait for the sun.

After a short wait dawn illuminates the trail and I set off, hands jammed into warm pockets.

Chilly morning. Cold. At just 2°C, it’s a colder morning than we’ve had in several weeks. I’m glad I didn’t rush to plant delicate vegetables more suited to milder weather. That has often been a temptation for me and in many years past, I’ve chosen poorly. This year I focused on the laborious work of cleaning up the garden beds, weeding, and pruning. I am impressed by my own good decision making and self-restraint, recalling years past and frozen seedlings that failed to thrive. I inhale the cold air of early Spring on the marsh. The surface of the marsh ponds are silvery, reflecting the sky as the sun rises. Nice morning, if a bit cold. I’m grateful for the warm sweater I chose this morning.

Choices matter. Actions matter more.

A flock of geese takes flight from the marsh pond behind me. I’m seated on a fence rail betwixt the pond and the trail. The flock rises almost as one and I wonder how they all knew to do so just then? They pass overhead and I pull the hood of my fleece hoodie over my head “just in case”. I consider myself fortunate; no bird poop spatters me. I sit with my gratitude. Sometimes small things leave a big impression; I was once hit by falling bird poop, and getting it out of my hair seriously grossed me out. It may never occur again. I sit considering the numbers of birds, and people, and how often a bird passes overhead, and how rarely someone is actually hit by falling bird poop. It’s not really a high risk.

Go outside anyway. Walk a trail. Smell the flowers. See a sunrise. Trying to avoid all of the obstacles and potential misadventures on life’s journey only results in a life never really lived.

Choose. Do the thing. Experience the moment. Fail, learn, and grow. Walk a path you know you have chosen for yourself. Don’t rely overmuch on your “heroes” to lead the way. They too are mortal creatures with very human failings. Topple them from their pedestals and examine the truth of who they are (or were) as people and maybe do better. It may be easier than you think.

The sunrise is pearly pink and delicate orange, this morning. The meadow grass is tipped with frost. My breath turns to mist each time I exhale. I sit with the moment, enjoying the quiet, feeling myself relax. Looking towards the far side of the marsh and meadow, I see a green haze in the treetops. Definitely Spring.

I sit awhile longer, thinking about this or that vexing circumstance. Each time a grievance or complaint rises in my consciousness demanding my attention, I look it over and ask myself two questions,

  1. Does this really matter enough to give it attention and energy at all?
  2. If the answer (for me) is “yes”, then what will I do about that?

If human primates put as much energy into solving their problems (or changing their circumstances) as they do just bitching about them, we’d likely have a very different world. I don’t know what that world would be like, but I do like thinking about it.

I sigh to myself, filling my lungs with cold Spring air. The wheel keeps turning. The clock keeps ticking. What will you do when it is time to begin again? I think about the path ahead of me, and get to my feet.

Ask the questions. Do the verbs.
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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gardening, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, The Big 5, thoughts on AI, War and News of War, women, Words

What Are You Looking At?

March 19, 2026 //
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I’m sitting at the halfway point of my morning trek across the marsh. It’s beautiful here, the day is young, and the sunrise was splendid. I feel fortunate to enjoy this moment.

Each time for the first time. Each moment the only moment.

(No AI was used to create or edit this content.)

I walked the trail wrapped in contentment, joy, and love. Simply mentioning to my Traveling Partner that I might like to explore using a bit of makeup to improve my appearance on work calls got me more support than I could have imagined. I grin to myself, swinging my feet as I sit on this fence rail listening to the sounds of life along the riverbank in Springtime. I smell flowers.

I once wore makeup a lot. That was a very long time ago. I stopped all that when I went to war. When I came home none of that sort of thing to do with appearances mattered to me at all. Life was too short, too precious, and I was for sure too broken to be bothered with any of that. I could have continued to wear my BDUs and combat boots indefinitely. I exchanged them for jeans and sweaters. After my divorce, I just wasn’t having any part of partners, or lovers, or frankly anyone else telling me how to look or what defines feminity. I am a woman. I’ll define feminity for myself, as I please, and the entire world can fuck right off. 😂

…No one else tells me who I am, that belongs to me…

…But… Aging being what it is, and spending so much time “on camera” in work meetings, I can admit that it wouldn’t hurt to take another look at what I can do with a little makeup, minimal effort, and little expense, to highlight my natural look without plastering over my face with some mask of acceptability. lol Tools are tools; they serve a purpose.

I watch little birds playing in the trees. Being present matters most. Life is not about appearances.

…Where we turn our attention largely determines what’s on our minds…

There is beauty in the world. Are you seeing it?

I think about appearances, and distractions. I think about the way media companies and tech companies seek to hold our attention, in spite of our own interests and desires. It takes an act of will to put that slop aside and turn one’s attention to what matters most. This only works if we have an understanding of what does matter most to us as an individual (which implies sufficient self-reflection and self knowledge to have that understanding). It’s not surprising to me that so many people just give up and dive back into their phones. (Although that does strike me as a terrible wasteful approach to human potential.)

What are you looking at? The sky? The tree? The little birds? Choose. The choice is yours.

Are you mired in despair, trapped by doomscrolling? That’s a choice. Put it down. Go outside. Read a book. Laugh with a friend. You are choosing, every moment. No books? Go to a library; they still exist. No friends? Meet real people in the world, interact with strangers, and open yourself to conversation. It may feel awkward. Your results may vary, but the verbs and choices are yours. Incremental change happens over time. Keep at it. Choose your path and walk it.

Not a bit of this “choose your path” stuff is “easy”. Choices are complicated. The menu of the Strange Diner is so much to take in. “Can’t” is easier than doing the verbs, failing, learning, and growing… But here it is, Spring. It’s a lovely time for growth and beginnings. Like learning to apply makeup again, as if for the first time, it’s often the decision to do it that is the most difficult part. Taking the first step feels hard. Maybe that’s a choice, too?

… Gnothi seauton…

… What will you do about that? It’s important. Who are you? Who do you want most to be? To whom have you obligated yourself, or given your decision making? Are you just mouthing someone else’s opinions? Are you living your life?

I think about it as I sit watching a new day unfold. I’m glad I took the day off for self-reflection and meditation. Later, I’ll be in the garden, clearing away the weeds and preparing the soil. Yes, of course it’s a metaphor – but I’ll also really be there, with my fingers in the soil, doing the verbs. That’s how practicing works.

It’s a journey. Choose your path wisely.

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Categories Allegories, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, joy, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, Uncategorized, War and News of War, women, Words

Preserving My Peace

March 17, 2026 //
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[No AI was used to create or edit this human content.]

Yesterday was a good day, a better than average Monday. I arrived home from work with a headache, an unfortunate result of working from a seat at the library where the afternoon sunshine was directly on my face. “A sunshine headache,” the sort of thing I find difficult to explain. Surviving head trauma can have some peculiar lingering consequences, and in my case those include this particular type of headache (which were much worse when I was younger but still occur in a dim fashion now). It didn’t last; I spent awhile contentedly doing my own thing in a quiet darkened room and it passed.

We often have the tools we need for the circumstances we find ourselves in.

For me, it was a pleasant evening. I am not certain what kind of experience everyone else was having. I managed to refrain from allowing concerns about experiences that are not my own to overcome my experience, and instead simply lived my moment. I slept well and deeply. The night passed uneventfully. I woke early, earlier than usual.

When I woke, I noticed my Traveling Partner was already up. I could have made assumptions about why he was up so early, but doing so could potentially lay the foundation for stress or misunderstandings. Instead I observe that he is awake and leave further understanding for later on, when I have more information. I dress and go through my morning routine, and head out for the day. On my way, I pass my beloved, in the open doorway to the deck, breathing the cool morning air. I say good morning. He returns my greeting with a few words of explanation. I depart without disturbing his peace, nor does he disturb mine.

All of this to say we are making choices. It’s not fancy or particularly complicated. We choose our words and choose our actions. We choose peace or we choose something else. Our choices definitely matter. We become what we practice. We create the person we are with our choices.

Who do you want most to be? How do you want to be remembered?

I sit at the trailhead, waiting for daybreak to come. It is a mild morning, and the warmer Spring days after so much rain have created slippery conditions on this trail, even on paved portions. Moss is growing over the trail in places. Fallen leaves, partially decomposed, are slick mats waiting to create a slip and fall accident for some unwary walker. I choose caution – and a bit of daylight. I reflect on choices and change, and preserving my peace under challenging circumstances.

I don’t look at the news this morning. Why would I? I already know enough about what’s going on to function in society. More would be too much. I’m taking “preserving my peace” pretty seriously. If asked, I would encourage our leaders to do the same; preserve peace. I doubt they would listen to me; they are making too much money off of war and enjoying the thrill of having so much attention. I find the whole mess distasteful and frankly crass. Humanity could do better.

Choose your actions and your words with care. They have consequences.

Daybreak. The first hints of the new day dawning reveal a stormy overcast sky. The forecast says the day will be warm, like yesterday. I look down the familiar path, feeling capable and prepared, and ready to begin again.

What will you choose? It’s your path to walk.
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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, health, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, The Big 5, War and News of War, women, Words

Change Is, and It’s Always Just Ahead

March 15, 2026 //
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I finally get to my halfway point. Daybreak has come. It’s a gray wintry looking (but quite mild) morning. The marsh is marshy. The recent heavy rain (for days) makes the trails soggy. Even on the well maintained all season trail, my steps squish as I walk. Low spots are flooded.

There’s some potentially tedious bitching ahead, I warn you now. If that’s not amusing or interesting or potentially useful, skip down to the picture. 😂

My trek this morning takes longer than usual. I stop frequently to exchange messages with my Traveling Partner who is aggravated by the Anxious Adventurer’s behavior and general approach to life, again. They share blood as father and son, but not values. It makes comfortable cohabitation difficult and creates a lot of unnecessary drama. I’ll be glad to see the Anxious Adventurer move out, although I’m legitimately sorry he didn’t find a suitable living arrangement somewhere locally. He seems to like the area, but he does not have the will to put in the effort to find something around here, and the “easy options” are too costly. He doesn’t communicate sufficiently well to make use of available resources to open the door to other options, either.

…It is emotionally exhausting to help him with anything…

In two years, this situation has not improved much and the living arrangement is coming to an end for that reason. It could have worked. It didn’t. There were choices involved, and consequences are what they are. I’m very much looking forward to having my own bathroom again, and enough space to paint comfortably, to read quietly, and enjoy a home life that does not include conversations with someone who is walking away mumbling or shouting from another room. I probably sound like I’m being a bit bitchy, but just keeping things real, it’s my fucking house. I’ve set clear expectations and provided a lot of gentle feedback and reinforcement, without success, and have zero interest in parenting a grown man.

Choices have consequences.

Change is. Choose wisely.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. Other People’s Drama can so easily pull us in, especially when it’s people dear to us. Relationships are a huge part of the human experience, maybe the most important part. Building healthy relationships is easier with shared values. Open communication is helpful, and I personally think it is quite necessary.

I swing my feet from this fence rail, watching robins digging in the soggy rotting leaf litter for tasty bugs. I’m grateful for the exceptional relationship I have with my Traveling Partner. I’m grateful we’ve both been willing to put ourselves into making it work when circumstances could have pulled us apart. I’m grateful that we’ve each had the reservoir of resilience and abiding love to weather the storms of being so very human. We listen to each other and work together. We clarify misunderstandings and share who we are as we change and grow over time. Our love is deep and our conversations are meaningful. We’re friends first, and lovers, and partners. I sit with my gratitude. 16 years ago, this friendship began to change my life. I’m grateful we’ve shared the journey for so long and I hope we continue to do so for some lengthy indefinite measure of time…call it a lifetime. Whatever we’ve got left. It’s enough. 😄❤️

I sigh to myself. The chaos of moving things around again is a minor aggravation and that moment is not now. I let it go and pull my attention back to this moment. It is a gray Spring morning in the Pacific Northwest. The squirrels have decided I’m no threat and they play among the meadow grass and in the trees. I’m having brunch with the Chaotic Comic this morning. I’ll enjoy this moment awhile longer, and then I’ll begin again. It’s time for change. I’m okay with that, I could see it coming. 😁

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Categories Allegories, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Spring, The Art of Being, The Big 5, Words

Bang!

March 12, 2026 //
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First, I’m fine. I’m okay, and there’s nothing amiss in this moment. That is an important detail.

I woke abruptly to a loud noise and a sense that something was seriously wrong. I woke fully triggered and in “overdrive”, ready to react to danger – of whatever unknown type there might be. There was nothing going on of the sort I could do anything about, it was only a loud noise. A door slamming somewhere, but it could have been anything or nothing at all; along with the PTSD, I am sometimes afflicted with “exploding head” nightmares. So… suddenly waking up in a panic, fully triggered, is not an unknown sensation for me.

I’m okay. My Traveling Partner is also okay for most values of okay, though he didn’t sleep through the night. I’m grateful that he isn’t hurt. When I woke that was my first (only) concern.

I dressed and headed to the trailhead. It’s raining. Today I don’t care at all, and I’ll feel better after I burn off this adrenaline fueled energy in a healthy way. My heart is still pounding and I was trembling for awhile. In every practical sense, though, I’m okay. Years of practice have given me more resilience. Totally worth the effort, though at the time, in the moment, the discipline of practicing practices often feels a little pointless. There’s no obvious immediate return on the effort… Well… It’s subtle and not obvious. The gains are there.

…I pull on my poncho and find my headlamp…

This is my path and I’m walking it. 😄 A little rain isn’t going to stop me. I definitely need to begin again.

Seems to be very effective so far… probably doesn’t hurt that the path is mine, and that I choose it myself.

…

…

I get back to the car a bit damp but not drenched. The rain is still falling steadily. I couldn’t stop at my usual halfway point due to that bit of the trail being flooded, and the place I often sit being surrounded by a large muddy stretch and water. Nope. I just walked on. By the time I reached that point I was feeling relaxed and merry. Ready for a new day. It’s enough.

The path ahead isn’t always smooth and well lit. There are going to be rainy days. There will be obstacles along the way, and detours. Being prepared for those is sometimes a matter of acceptance and a willingness to adapt to circumstances. PTSD screams that something is an emergency, though nothing is “wrong” in that kind of way at all. Sometimes a noise is just a noise. Being able to bounce back once I’m triggered is a pretty notable win for me.

I breathe, exhale and relax. I take a few minutes for meditation in the car. It’s already time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, breathe, gratitude, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, women, Words
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