Archives for posts with tag: choose wisely

Ordinary day. Ordinary Spring morning. Overcast skies, mild temperature, still air heavy with the scent of flowers, grass, and tilled soil. The tall oaks along the start of the trail are green now. The visible patches of snow on the distant hills are dwindling.

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

I enjoy this bit of solitude in the mornings, rain or clear skies, fog or a brilliant sunrise, winter, summer, Spring, or fall. This is beautiful quiet time well spent. Vita contemplativa – maybe not achievable for every moment of every day in every lifetime; we don’t all have it like that. I’m grateful for the precious moments I can devote to solitary contemplation, or art, or just daydreaming as the minutes tick past.

Yesterday evening I looked around the house with some amazement. In the short time since the Anxious Adventurer returned to his familiar life and routine in Ohio, we’ve moved things around a lot, reclaimed a lot of space, done some spring cleaning, and generally gotten things more organized. It’s nice to see my Traveling Partner so capable once again, and improving every day. It’s hard to keep up with, though, and I had worn myself down a lot during the most demanding 16 months or so of caregiving. I’m still recovering. This morning I’m feeling the efforts of recent days in the form of an aggravated rotator cuff injury, aching knees and hips, and simple fatigue. (It still beats the hell out of the headache I had yesterday!)

My beloved suggested to me that I take off for a couple days the weekend after payday. (He’d go himself, and give me some alone time at home, but he’s in the middle of a job, and can’t just wander off for a weekend.) The idea is appealing. Would I go to some usual place? Somewhere new? I think it over without coming to any conclusions. It’s an appealing “maybe”.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I repeat as needed. It’s an ordinary work day. I have limited time for daydreaming. (It nearly always feels that way, and I always find it time well spent in spite of that.)

I remind myself gently that there is no pressure, no urgency, and that most seemingly stressful things are likely blown way out of proportion by my aggressively concerned primate mind. I imagine an ape with a laptop frowning at a calendar and chuckle to myself. Yeah, that seems pretty apt. A robin hops past my feet, more attentive to whatever is in the grass than to anything to do with me. I’m reminded that my thinking will be informed by whatever I put my attention on. Choices. I can guide the quality of my experience by choosing what I put my attention on. Useful.

Another breath, another moment, and a new day filled with new experiences. A chance to begin again. What will I do with it?

I’m sitting alongside this trail on a peculiarly misty morning. It is Spring. The day is expected to be quite a hot one (32C/90F).  The full moon was setting as I drove to the trailhead. By the time I had arrived, daybreak had become a smudgy deep orange on the horizon, edged in a strangely angry looking red.

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

The stillness and the mist hint at hidden mysteries.

By the time I reached this spot, the morning was awash in misty pinks and hues of lavender. Pretty. A magical sort of fairytale sunrise envelopes me as I sit here, part of the landscape for a distant photographer in the blind on the edge of the marsh. I find myself hoping my presence doesn’t ruin her shot.

A new day, with new opportunities.

I am thinking about whether (and how) my choices individually can contribute to, or detract from, a greater good. I know that my words and actions have that potential. I mull over choices I’ve made in life without any regard for the effect on others. I reflect on choices I’ve made with attention and consideration of how they would affect others in my life and beyond.  I’m not sure why it’s on my mind this morning. Something leftover from my dreams, maybe. I wonder how many people really give any thought to whether a particular decision they are on the cusp of making will tend to benefit a greater good, or undermine it? Does it matter “in the bigger picture”?

Here is an interesting thought exercise about decision making and the greater good; imagine you have received an especially good job offer. The pay is fantastic (more than you were looking for many times over, an almost unimaginable sum of money), with equally exceptional benefits. It’s yours for the taking, but with the explicit understanding that in accepting this job offer, one reliable outcome would be that a notable percentage of the population would be…fired. No jobs left for them at all. Your own community and friends and colleagues, and numerous strangers, directly affected. They’ll be without income and without adequate resources. You have no power to change that outcome. Do you take the job? Do you serve your own needs exclusively, even knowing how it will affect others, or do you refuse to do that kind of harm for your own gain?

…I promise you, a disturbing number of seemingly “good people” would take the job. Would you?

Greed is some nasty toxic shit. Human primates are very vulnerable to greed. “More” and “better” are seriously tempting for most of us. Weirdly, it also appears that the more/better we acquire in life, the less we seem inclined to consider the greater good, and whether what satisfies our greed may come at a cost for humanity itself. Aggressively nihilist billionaires are fucking terrifying; they have nearly infinite resources, and genuinely don’t care about humanity at all. They’ve chosen themselves and their own satisfaction over any sort of greater good so many times, it has become easy to destroy what everyone else needs to survive.

I sigh to myself. I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s beautiful here, now. I sit awhile, reflecting on life, and on choices. I planted tomato plants in my veggie garden, and gave them plenty of room in the raised bed. I put cages around them, more to protect them from the deer in some small way, than to support them. I think I’ll plant carrots and radishes in the adjacent space. I remind myself to water the yard when I get home, feeling rather stupid that I forgot to do that before I left. I add an alarm to my phone to remind me to water the lawn and garden beds early each morning, until it becomes a habit. I like not having to bother with that – but there is a greater good involved; the plants need the water in the heat of summer. Best to have the habit of it before summer heat arrives.

… And what about the other uses of the finite resource that is water? People, livestock, nature, agriculture… What is the greatest good for the greatest number? Where does individual responsibility really begin and end, and responsibility to community, society, or the world become the critical detail? I sit swinging my feet, and watching the sun rise. Once, a long time ago, someone told me I think too much. I smile to myself. I tend to think that most people (within my limited knowledge of people more generally) think too little. People seem oddly disinclined to take time for just sitting and thinking. Too busy. 😆 That seems unfortunate; there is so much to think about.

What will you do with it? Where does your path lead?

I breathe in the fragrance of Spring, exhaling as I hop down from my perch on the fence rail. The sun is rising into the clear blue sky. The clock is ticking. There are things to do, and it feels like a good time to begin again.

Yesterday’s anniversary celebration was delightful, really memorable and lovely. It was the kind of night out that lingers in memory, lasting beyond the moment. I’m glad to be traveling life’s path with my Traveling Partner.

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

A new day dawns. Where does this path lead?

I went to bed later than usual, well-fed and still a little tipsy. I woke early-ish, rather abruptly. My beloved was already up. I dressed and headed for a hike along the seasonal marsh trail, now open for the Spring and summer. Somewhere along the drive up the highway I began to wake up more completely. I stopped for coffee along the way. I definitely need a cup of coffee this morning. 😆

… What an experience last night was! Remarkable…

I walk alongside the marsh ponds still thinking about last night… the wines, each so beautifully paired with the course they arrived with… the shrimp toast!.. the rabbit… the salmon!.. desserts… that chocolate cake, wow. The evening, and the meal, made its way into my top three most memorable meals of a lifetime, before the check ever arrived. I walk thinking about food, love, and Springtime. It’s rare that we splurge on such an evening, and the rarety made it even more splendid. I savored every bite. I’m grateful to my Traveling Partner for setting it up. His company for the meal was the best part.

I get to my halfway point, and take a seat on this favorite fence rail. The sky looks stormy and I have lost my enthusiasm for driving a great distance to a preferred retailer for peppercorns (and nothing else!). I’m enjoying the morning, but like a walk down any trail, I’m alert for tripping hazards after stepping into a pothole I didn’t see ahead of me. It’s a metaphor. Life’s journey isn’t reliably “well paved”, and surely it can’t be expected to be on “easy mode” for the entire game, eh? I sigh and swing my feet. A small brown bird darts away to a more comfortable distance and looks me over.

… We’re each having our own experience…

I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s a beautiful Spring day full of promise. The path ahead no doubt still has potholes, and occasional obstacles to avoid. Detours. Bad weather. Wrong turns. The journey is the destination. I resolve (again) to enjoy all I can – and to learn from what I can’t enjoy. That’s enough.

I decide to sit a little while longer. I’ll enjoy taking the long loop back, around the meadow and down along the river. Good day for it. Good day to begin again.

Today is my anniversary with my Traveling Partner; 16 years together, a bit more, and 15 married. As long-term relationships go, it’s not exactly “a lifetime” – I’ve had to try a few times to “get it right”. This anniversary is a major milestone for a minor reason; it is my longest long-term relationship.

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

My next longest long-term relationships (14 years together, never actually married, and another that was 14 years married, but only 10 of those together) were problematic extensions of traumatizing models of “family life” I’d dearly like to erase from memory, but for the fact that my path through the chaos and damage eventually brought me here. I wouldn’t change a moment if it might mean missing out on the love I’ve found with my Traveling Partner.

“Communion” 2010

So here I am, walking as the sun rises, smiling and hearing love songs in my head. We have dinner plans tonight, and I’m excited about that. I haven’t gotten him a gift. I don’t know how to give a gift worthy of a love like this one on the limited budget I would have. Dinner together at the best restaurant in the area seems fitting. (His idea, which tickles me so much.)

“Contemplation” 12″ x 16″ acrylic and iron oxide. August 2011

Is love “enough”? I walk and think about that question and find myself answering “enough for what?” before shrugging off the question as irrelevant to my lived experience of love and loving. Love is love. Questions of sufficiency seem to lead down a path of price tags and comparisons and cost/benefit analysis, and that seems foolish. Love doesn’t have to be “enough” to fulfill some other purpose, it is enough to experience love, ever. I get to my halfway point, still smiling and feeling lighthearted. It’s a beautiful morning, and I am fortunate to be in love.

“Cherry Blossoms” 2011

I breathe, exhale, and relax. Meditation is difficult this morning. I fidget like a child in church, restless, excited. My mind wanders (don’t forget to pick up your Rx, don’t forget your manicure appointment, don’t forget to double-check the grocery list and stop by the store…). S’ok. It’s a very human experience. Most people don’t notice my brain damage; little glitches in the background, unusual difficulties with communication, oddball “quirks” that are actually coping mechanisms for getting around “thinking holes” and shit that just doesn’t work the way it should. I’m used to it, mostly. I’ve improved a lot over the years (so much). My Traveling Partner sees more of it than most people – and manages to be kind, loving, and generally very supportive, without succumbing to the potential temptation to exploit me to his advantage. (Not true in previous relationships, one of which apparently had exploitation as it’s specific purpose.) I feel safe and loved, which is pretty wonderful for this busted up weird human primate doing her best to figure life out, I must say. 😆

A token of affection. Love on a chain. The only heart-shaped locket I have ever owned.

I sigh contentedly, even happily. It’s a beautiful morning and I feel loved. I watch the sun light the vineyards along this trail. Such a beautiful moment. I sit here awhile longer. I have some errands to run before I return home to my beloved. I feel fortunate and merry, and supremely pleased to have taken the day off (and grateful to have had that option). Love makes it a beautiful day to be alive.

I smile and breathe the sweetly fragrant Spring breeze. I let the clock tick on (how could I even stop it?), soon enough it will be time to begin again.

Breathe. Feel it? Lifeforce. Breathe in. Exhale fully. Feel the moment. Where are you now? What do you see when you look? What sounds fill the environment? Who even are you, when no one is with you, and no one is watching? Another moment comes and goes. Breathe, exhale, relax. Step onto the path that leads away, into the distance.

… Where does your path lead? You will decide. Choose wisely, and begin…

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

Spring is lush and green here, and the path past the vineyard and around the bend into the trees is strewn with soggy flower petals, blown to the ground and forming drifts at the edges of the path. I started walking at daybreak, quite possibly my favorite time to begin walking. No glorious golden sunrise this morning, instead heavy gray storm clouds fill the sky. Will it rain? Probably, but it isn’t raining now – and now is what matters when it comes to walking and the chance of rain.

Green and gray, and a path to follow.

I get to my halfway point and take a seat on a big landscaping rock that got dropped or placed in this spot some time long ago. I don’t always stop in this spot, but I usually consider whatever spot I do stop at to be “halfway”. 😆 It isn’t any sort of measured halfway point, it’s only the midpoint in my morning journey in the most approximate way. I stop, I write and meditate awhile, and I walk on. It’s the midpoint of the experience more than anything to do with miles.

…Your mileage may vary. 😆…

Your results, too, will vary. We’re each having our own experience. Each of us is walking our own path. We make our own choices. Experience the consequences of our own actions. We become what we practice. To a large degree, we really do “get out of it what we put into it”, as far as life goes. You’ll see so much more with your eyes open. Feel so much more if you heal from trauma and care for your heart with tenderness and consideration. Where does your path lead? What matters most to you?

… How much of the menu have you even considered sampling?

I am sitting quietly with my thoughts when a small brown bunny hops from the brush, hesitating when he sees me. He watches me warily, nibbling a bit of something or other with small purple flowers. Vetch, maybe? He seems to be enjoying it enough to disregard my presence. I sit quiet and still, watching him. I slowly (so slowly) switch from writing tools to camera. Just as I have the shot setup, he quickly hops away. Oh well, he was too quick for me. I guess you had to be here, in this moment.

I sigh to myself. Present. Awake. Alive. I’m grateful for the rather obvious lack of bombs or drones. It’s beginning to seem as of most other places in the world are dealing with some kind of violence. Nothing like that here, now. Just green grass and brown bunnies, and the occasional noisy robin. I sit contentedly for some little while. Soon enough it will be time to begin again. For now, I’ll just breathe, exhale, and relax.