Archives for posts with tag: choose wisely

I chuckled when I read that Elon Musk is going to launch his very own political party, to give Americans a third option. It manages to come across more as a petulant tantrum than “news”. I laughed harder when Donald Trump retorted on social media (on a platform he, himself, owns – how is this shit newsworthy, at all?), like an angry teenager, that he doesn’t even care, because third parties can’t win (or words to that effect).

Firstly, and this is potentially unimportant, just a matter of accuracy, there are 11 political parties in the United States of America that are listed as “ballot-qualified” (but only two of those are qualified in all states). Musk launching a “third option” is actually much closer to launching a 12th, and then only if his new party manages to qualify for the ballot in more than one state. There’s a pretty good article on Wikipedia about political parties in the U.S., here.

Secondly, and this probably is important; the system for voting and elections in the U.S. has a near-certainty (just how the math works) of evolving into a two party system over time regardless how many parties it begins with, it’s just how “first past the post” voting works, and the electoral college does nothing to improve on that. A really fantastic breakdown of how elections and voting work, with a comparison of various systems, is available from CGP Grey. He breaks down the limitations of our present system nicely in this video – I definitely recommend watching this, and really thinking about how you vote, and why.

The “tl;dr”, I guess, is that it’s highly unlikely that yet another additional political party is going to produce great results come voting day; it’s the system (of government) itself that is broken, and not just the system of elections and voting we presently use, but also the system of ridiculously partisan special-interest and billionaire-focused decision-making used by our elected officials (in what way do billionaires “need” tax breaks but human beings don’t need affordable health care?). We could do so much better.

…Then… there’s this unavoidable fact; a great many people who don’t like Trump dislike Elon Musk just as much (or more), or don’t see much daylight between him and Trump’s swampy clown car of destruction, and have no interest in any political party established by Elon-fucking-Musk. I’m definitely among those. I don’t see the addition of a new party built on corruption, billionaire grifting, cruelty, racism, and sexism to be any sort of great opportunity for change. What change? It’s more of the same, from yet another out-of-touch asshole. No thanks.

Okay, so… it’s not even news, really, is it? New parties come and go. Assholes and grifters come and go. Hell, even ideologies come and go. Be alert. Think critically. Don’t get scammed.

I sigh to myself and let all that shit go. Knowing I would not ever join a political party founded by Elon Musk, and knowing there’s yet another 3 years of this Trump bullshit to endure, this garbage doesn’t even qualify as “news”, I suppose, and I’ve got a life to live, and things to do. I sip my coffee, and let my mind move on to other things, and this here and now moment – which is quite pleasant, and quiet. From my perspective, most days, the only party that actually “matters” is a party at home with friends in attendance for the pure joy of celebration. Our politics is a garbage heap. lol

“Local produce” – the vegetables from my garden just taste better.

It was a lovely weekend. I spent some of it gardening (carefully; I’ve still got the incision site on my finger carefully covered with a clean band-aid while it heals). I spent some of it hiking, cooking, doing a bit of housekeeping, napping, reading, and enjoying the companionship of my beloved Traveling Partner. It felt like a lazy weekend, but I managed to get most of the things I’d hoped to do done. The work week ahead looks like a routine one. The summer heat varies, some days quite hot, other days pleasantly warm without being terrible. I am grateful to have the Anxious Adventurer’s help; the lawn hasn’t died this summer, due to his care each day. Life being lived. I sip my coffee and consider how fortunate I am to live well at this point in my life, and what steps will take me into eventual retirement still thriving and living comfortably within my means? I know there are verbs involved, and I am grateful to have a partnership that encourages me day-to-day. We’re on a shared path, and I feel comforted by that even in these chaotic times.

…I sit smiling, gazing out the window onto a lovely summer morning, thinking about planning another camping trip, perhaps…? We had planned a family camping trip for this month, but my Traveling Partner is not yet quite up to it, although his recovery continues to progress. The Anxious Adventurer may use that reservation for a solo camping trip of his own – I find myself hoping he does, not because I want or need him gone from the house, but only because I think he’d enjoy that, and he’s worked hard over the past year. He could probably use a wee getaway to hike, take pictures, and generally exist on his own terms 100% for some little while. We can all use a little downtime now and then. Being human, and adulting skillfully, takes a ton of work, and it can be quite tiring. It’s healthy to take a break and recharge now and then.

…I remind myself to cancel that previously approved time off from work; I won’t need that (and I just had a week off recently)…

Ask the questions. Do the verbs.

The clock is ticking. I sigh to myself and sip my coffee. It’s a new day. What will I do with it? What choices will I make? Will I make the world some little bit better in some small way through carefully considered actions? Will I make someone’s day just a little nicer by being kind? Where does this path lead? I can’t see around the bend ahead, but I know this path won’t walk itself. lol It’s time to begin again.

There’s a storm brewing. I can see the dark gray clouds on the horizon, through the lush summer greenery of the tree just beyond the window. I think about the weather and the climate. I think about change. I think about trauma, memory, and strangely I also think about genocide.

A view. A perspective on a moment.

Have you stopped to wonder, even for a moment, what the results of the collective trauma of the Palestinian people will be, those few that remain after years of genocidal attacks on that population? What about the people of Ukraine, fighting valiantly to preserve their national identity in the face of Russia’s attacks on their land, their culture, and their people? It may be worth a moment of your time to think about it. Some of these people may one day be your own neighbors. Just saying, we’re all in this together, aren’t we? All human?

I sip my coffee and watch the changing light and shadows through the tree beyond the window. I think my thoughts. 4th of July tomorrow – what are you celebrating? National identity? National pride? (Is there so much to be proud of, right now?) Freedom…? (Freedom from what, exactly?) Did you serve in the armed forces? If you did, are you still proud of your service, considering all that is going on in the world? (Were you ever?) Did you achieve something? No, I mean… really. What changed? What good have you done in the real world that is worth celebrating? (Maybe it would be sufficiently celebration-worthy to pass through this mortal life without doing any harm?) I sigh to myself. Rhetorical questions. I’ve got my own answers, and they are less than ideally satisfying. I still consider myself “a patriot” – and I am ashamed of the willful cruelty and corruption of our government, and the harms we seem so willing to deliver to our own people, and so many innocent non-combatants around the globe. How do people rationalize being so terrible to other people? So destructive? So hateful? So… stupid?

I personally find 4th of July as a national holiday fairly pointless, and the way it is celebrated, with displays of colorful ordnance and barbecue, rather wasteful. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I like a good barbecue. I just don’t personally see the value in blowing shit up (however colorful) to celebrate a military victory more than 200 years in the past, by people who have never gone to war themselves, can’t understand what they are celebrating, and apparently have no idea of the real cost in human lives and suffering of military actions. What the actual fuck? What purpose do the fireworks serve? Is the risk of igniting a wildfire actually worth it? Still, here we all are, eh? It’ll be nice to enjoy a long weekend…

…G’damn, Woman, just let people have their fun…

The doe who eats my roses.

Yesterday evening while I was in the garden, I saw the doe who has been strolling through regularly and eating my roses and my vegetables. She calmly watched me, unbothered. I strode right up to her, lecturing her most sternly about eating my damned roses. She seemed mildly surprised, but not inclined to leave. I continued to berate her most firmly, providing clear explicit boundary-setting about my damned garden and my roses. She listened quite attentively, but did not acknowledge my points (I did not expect that she would). I threw my hands up in frustration, and raised my voice a bit “now just go, and stay out of my damned flower beds!” She darted away, paused, then strolled off into the trees, unimpressed by my ire. I’m quite certain I’ll have to have this talk with her again. lol

…Good coffee. I find myself wondering again how much longer coffee beans will be affordable to regular people…

I’m feeling a little cranky and blue, then I remember that as an individual person, I truly do have some things to celebrate on the 4th of July, and they are each “freedom” and independence related. It was 4th of July when I left my violent first marriage. It was 4th of July weekend when my Traveling Partner and I moved into our little house in Yamhill County. It was 4th of July weekend that the Anxious Adventurer arrived and moved in (one year ago), a truly helpful presence at a time when that was utterly necessary. There have probably been other milestones that fell on or near July 4th, that don’t immediately come to mind. Hell, I haven’t even always been so cranky about fireworks as I am now. lol We change as people over time, with all that we learn and experience in life. Our perspective changes. Our understanding of the world changes. Change is. I shake off my blue mood and have another sip of my coffee, noticing that a bluer bit of sky has begun to reveal itself. Promising; moments pass.

I breathe, exhale, and relax – and get ready to begin again. This path isn’t going to walk itself. 😉

What we choose to consume matters. Fact is, all our choices matter to one degree or another. The results we get from any one choice over any other are reliably different. This is true of the food we eat, the books and periodicals we read, the services we use, the consumer goods we purchase, the platforms we subscribe to, the movies and videos we watch, and the politicians we elect. The tl;dr is that our choices matter, in our own life and in the world.

Businesses succeed or fail on their choices – and on ours as customers and consumers.

Societies rise, develop and fall based on the choices of chosen leaders enacting chosen policies.

We thrive or struggle based on our individual choices, and the choices of those around us.

It’s everything. From the choice of the food we put into our mouths (which could nurture or poison us), to the choice of who is best to lead us, every choice matters, every day, all the time. Are you up to the challenge? Are you ready to make willful, informed, eyes-open choices and also to accept responsibility for the choices you have made?

Are you even making actual choices or are you tumbling randomly through life with your choices being dictated by the opinions of others, or based on the constant media bombardment of advertising and “infotainment”? Are you even thinking your own thoughts, or has your mind been taken over by ideological bullet points, loyalty to party platforms, and AI slop?

…Who even are you?

Dawn of a new day.

As I left town heading for a favorite trail, I saw the beginnings of a beautiful colorful sunrise. I knew I had “missed my moment”. My timing would give me brief views of spectacular color, but no opportunity to do more than watch it as I drove. I faced a lived moment of natural splendor that could be appreciated and enjoyed, but not preserved. That’s okay. Hell, that is the truth of most moments. I don’t fight it. I drive on drinking in the scenery and watching the sunrise evolve from the magenta and luminous pinks to bold bright orange, then fading to hues of peach, salmon, and mauve. Gorgeous. Words don’t capture the moment.

I’m driving. Progress. The finger I had surgery on is still bandaged, but I’m back to my usual pain management, and driving, which feels good. My Traveling Partner suggests I take it easy today. I embrace that suggestion enthusiastically; I’m not quite ready to do housework, with one hand still impaired. He suggested maybe I entertain myself with a drive to the coast after my walk, and I agree that sounds like a great idea. Choices, eh? Today, and every day.

Our perspective on the world is informed through our choices regarding where to turn our attention.

I breathe, exhale, and relax – and set off down the trail after watching the last splashes of the colorful sunrise fade to a new day. Reaching my halfway point, I sit awhile on a handy fence rail at the edge of a meadow. I watch the sunshine light up the oak trees in an adjacent grove. Beautiful. Also choices. I don’t think about every choice I make, in every moment. Some things seem to flow one moment to the next in some determinate “natural” way, but these too are choices, and they are the sort of choices that can easily become problematic; they are not carefully considered and thoughtful. Even some brief pause between actions to consider the options is probably better than being on “autopilot” or following some path as though I were on rails (like a train more than a hike). I think about that as I watch little birds living their moments. “How much do they choose?”, I wonder.

Thinking things over is healthy. Critical thinking skills are worth developing, practicing, and using. It’s quite freeing to make a willful well-considered choice. Having real agency is powerful. These are all practices, and they are choices.

Choices upon choices requiring choices about choices – so many choices! I brush off my jeans as I get to my feet, still thinking about choices and the power we have to choose our path, and even the sort of world we want to live in. Every choice matters, and it’s already time to make the next choice and begin again.

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 slept in, like, properly slept in, waking a couple hours later than I ordinarily would, feeling well rested, and ready for a new day. Being home feels good.

A familiar view from a favorite trail.

My legs ache. It’s just sore muscles, from recent days of more than usual walking. I mostly ignore it, and walk on. The blue skies of recent days have yielded to encroaching gray clouds gathering overhead. The air feels heavy with higher than typical humidity. I keep on walking, through oak groves and alongside meadows and vineyards. I pass by a creek, and lush dense weeds and wildflowers that grow along the banks, edged by trees. Farm workers in the vineyard eye me warily as I pass. I wave. They wave back. We have nothing to fear from each other. I continue walking.

It was an ordinary walk on an ordinary morning. I hope I have many such walks (and mornings) ahead of me. Gray skies or blue, the details matter less than my ability to walk on, and my freedom and opportunity to do so.

I sit quietly after my walk, on a convenient picnic table tucked among the oaks trees that line the beginning of this particular trail. It’s not remote or exotic, and lacks any sort of features that might attract crowds. It’s just a convenient local trail, well maintained, paved and mostly level, and even lit in some sections (which is nice for very early mornings before sunrise). It feels safe and familiar, and long enough to be satisfying (it’s about a mile and a half all the way around), but short enough to be quite manageable even when I’m having some difficulties. This trail is rarely crowded, which is a nice bonus.

My tinnitus is annoyingly loud in my ears. I do my best to focus on other things. I breathe, exhale, and relax. It is a pleasant morning and I am happy to be home. I remind myself to stop at the store on my way home, but can’t recall what I need to get. I chuckle to myself; I have an app for that. I probably rely on that too much.

I sigh contentedly, savoring this pleasant moment before I begin again. The clock is ticking on a new day. It’ll soon be time to begin again…

Where does this path lead? What will I see along the way?