It was raining when I reached the trailhead before dawn. I sat for a few moments quietly, waiting for a break in the rain. Eventually, I gave in to the temptation to scroll through my news feed and immediately regretted that obviously poor choice.

… People can be incredibly cruel, shortsighted, callous, petty, vengeful, stupidly focused on personal gain without regard to long-term consequences, and seriously strange. I don’t even need to give examples, you can see it for yourself, anytime, though I do recommend treating yourself with kindness and consideration, and that you limit your exposure to the fraudulent claims, boldfaced lies, and excessive trolling. It’s much, and can’t be healthy. … And also? Maybe do your own personal best to be a good human being, and a person of good character? It really does matter, every moment, every day.

The rain stopped, and I got out onto the trail, phone in my pocket, and walked to my halfway point before stopping. It’s barely daybreak and still quite dark. Another work day, but I’ve now cleared the 30-day hurdle, and I feel more relaxed.  I watch the storm clouds overhead shifting and slowly drifting across the sky, the lowest ones illuminated from below, the trees silhouetted darkly against them.

… I don’t have anything much to say about the government shutdown. I’m disappointed that the clowns we’ve elected treat governing as a weird sort of partisan game, instead of simply partnering with each other to efficiently run the fucking country, ensuring Americans are provided with the services they need, and agencies are appropriately funded so they can fulfill their roles effectively. Why the fuck is running the government a partisan matter in the first place? Do the damned job! How fucking hard does that have to be? I sigh to myself, then let it go for the moment. This is not the time.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. There’s a lot going on in the world, and a lot of that is unpleasant, or even horrifying. War. Genocide. Femicide. Fraud. Deceit. Assaults and kidnappings by masked government agents. Gross inequality. Child labor. The erosion of personal rights and freedoms. Legislated cruelty. I could easily spiral into despair, it’s that bad. Soon enough there may even be armed soldiers in the streets of the largest city near me, which is strange to the point of dystopian surrealism. If I let that shit become the entire focus of my experience moment to moment, it could destroy my perspective and my mental health.

I let that crap go and pull myself back to “here, now”. The sky is beginning to lighten. Daybreak comes. Here is a new day filled with new potential, new opportunities, and new promise – and a chance to begin again, to do better, to be the person I most want to be. Every day, we each get this chance to reset, to start over, to choose more wisely and behave more graciously than we did yesterday. Hard times or easy times, we choose how we respond to events and people. Our choices will determine a lot about the experience we go on to have. I think about that awhile.

My head aches this morning. I pay it little attention, it’s nothing new. My back aches, too. I shrug it off as “just arthritis”. My tinnitus is crazy loud, like a chorus of buzzing insects, unavoidable and annoying, but this too is just part of my experience. I try to pay it no attention; it seems louder and more aggravating when I focus on it. I’m not listing my aches and pains to complain, nor to one-up you on your own, I’m just pointing out how utterly ordinary these experiences are – for me, for other people, probably for you (most especially if you’re over 50). Deal with it or don’t, it’ll still be there. Letting pain shut me down would be worse than the pain itself, most of the time. I try my best to limit how often I allow my pain to determine my choices. I’ve got a life to live and shit to do.

The cloudy sky begins to turn blue and gray and the trail is visible without my headlamp. Details emerge from the darkness as it gives way to dawn. I’m surprised to see “someone” lounging in the vineyard between the rows. A few minutes later and I can see it isn’t a “someone”, it is a small herd of deer, resting together, a pair of does and their Spring fawns. As the morning light increases, I can see a young buck further down the row, quietly standing watchfully.  I am quiet and still. They pay me no mind.

I sit watching the deer, and the dawn. I fill my thoughts with gratitude for simple things that matter most. I reflect on life, the world, and being authentically the best version of myself that I can be.

…”Department of War,” I say softly, out loud, “Assholes.” The words come unbidden, and I am surprised to hear myself speak. On some level, I’m not surprised at all by the sentiment – I’m angry, and disappointed. We’re better than this – or, I thought we were. I guess maybe we’re not.

I sigh and pull my attention back to this moment, here, and the deer in the vineyard. Cars begin to arrive with farm workers. The new day is here. It’s already time to begin again.