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Don’t Settle for Slop

August 12, 2026 //
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It’s early and still dark when I reach the trailhead. I am reminded that my Traveling Partner has already reminded me (twice?) to replace my headlamp so I can walk safely in the dark. I take care of that while I wait for daybreak.

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

I set off down the trail at first light. I’m glad to be enjoying real activity in the physical world. The “quality of life” online continues to degrade as enshittification pours AI slop all over basically everything.  It’s super annoying. Worse, there are real signs in everyday life, and interactions with real people, that stupid may actually be taking over. I’m not exaggerating or being unkind, I’m observing a perceivable degradation in the quality of conversations, the reduced vocabulary, and the increasing apparent difficulties regular people seem to be having with the most ordinary shit. Looking things up in a library, or reading a page of text and actually understanding it – really simple, critically useful cognitive tools are becoming less well honed. It’s honestly a bit scary.

… These will be the people we hand the world to when current leaders “age out” of governance. We should probably all be quite terrified…

I sigh to myself as I walk. I’m grateful to be able to read. Grateful to be able to write and to have the opportunity to sit down and easily write a few hundred words without ever needing (or using) an LLM or relying on AI. I’m grateful to be able to comprehend what I read and to be able to interrogate the ideas of others, and to form my own opinions and original thoughts. I don’t want to lose these abilities. As with walking – I keep writing, and reading, and talking. (I could do better with the listening, for real, that’s an underdeveloped skill I work to improve every day.)

….Lacking a crystal ball, I don’t know where the world is headed, but it’s not looking good, and that is a massive disappointment…

Another work day ahead of me. I’m fine with it. My Traveling Partner has finished up the project he’s been working on in the shop for a customer. I’m incredibly impressed and proud of him; he’s made a lot of progress in a short time. (I’ll work from the library today, and give him a chance to enjoy a proper day off. I can be a bit of a distraction. 😆)

Today feels pretty good, subjectively. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I let go of my concern and frustration with the enshittification of American culture and the sad degradation of the once amazing Internet due to corporate greed and billionaire bullshit. I know to put down the connected device(s) and go outside. I smile at a bunny hopping timidly out of the underbrush alongside the trail.

“The world” drives a lot of my anxiety. War. Racism. Sexism. Misogyny. Rudeness and incivility. Hate. Greed. The breakdown of “the social contract”, generally. A lot of these sorts of things are only within my control to the extent that I manage my own behavior to avoid this toxic shit, myself. Don’t do it. Don’t encourage it. Don’t excuse it. Don’t stand around enduring it. That’s generally the best I can do, myself, and all the rest that is outside my control? Yeah, that feeds my anxiety. That’s the piece I have to manage with the greatest care. It’s not always easy (in fact, it’s mostly not easy at all). One thing that definitely helps, a lot? Log off and walk away from the screen. Pretty much any time I “put down the Internet and walk away”, my anxiety is reduced.

… I’m not telling you what to do, just making an observation about my own experience…

AI slop definitely makes my anxiety worse. AI voices put me on edge. AI writing is poorly done to the point of being a distraction that causes me considerable stress. AI videos are ugly and strangely unnatural, and in spite of improvements in quality, generally, I find them objectionable in principle; no one needs these garbage LLMs filling our feeds with slop that isn’t worth even one moment of precious, limited mortal lifetime. I’d rather listen to an awkward actual human being doing an uncomfortably amateur read on some new channel on a topic I don’t care about at all than waste one minute of my time on slop.

Not convinced? That’s okay; I’m not trying to persuade you, I’m having my own experience. If you “don’t see any harm” in AI, maybe try asking it. No kidding. Try “list three reasons using AI for [put your most common use here] is a bad idea”. It’ll tell you. 😂

I sigh to myself and look down the path. The sky takes on soft hues of pink and pale blue. There’s a new day beginning, full of wonder and promise. Choose your adventure. Choose wisely. It’s time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being, thoughts on AI, women, Words

New Morning, New Day

August 11, 2026 //
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Well, here we are, another morning, another moment, another chance to begin again and to do better than we did yesterday. A little at a time, our actions and experiences, and the things we choose to practice, will change us. Choose wisely. 😁

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

Today feels better than yesterday, although neither experience of a lovely morning offers me real insight to the difference. This morning I feel calm, kind, and unbothered. Yesterday I was cross with myself and the world and didn’t really have any more reason for that than I have for feeling quite differently now. I say that as an observation that our subjective emotional experiences are sometimes not directly connected to some obvious cause – they simply are what they are in that moment.

…Sometimes what we do about how we feel is more important than the feeling itself…

I slept pretty well, and woke a little startled when my lights flashed on before slowly brightening. I woke seriously groggy and had to slow down and make a careful point of going down my morning checklist to avoid making some small mistake that might wake my Traveling Partner or mess with his morning when he wakes a bit later. I appreciate a good routine, settled, reliable, predictable. This one isn’t that, yet. It needs more practice.

The sunrise from the trailhead already hints at autumn. It comes later, and the colors are a bit different. I consider whether or not to get another camping trip in, maybe after Labor Day? (Less crowded, fewer kids.) I don’t know if I really want to, or if I’m toying with the idea instead of something else. Life’s menu is pretty big, and there is a lot I’d like to do or try or see.

… My mind wanders on…

This year is already half over. Seems strange that it has gone by so fast. Subjectively, in this moment, I feel as if I have “achieved nothing”, which would be a huge bummer if it were objectively true. Oh for sure, I haven’t cured a major disease, changed the trajectory of world events, or solved homelessness in my community, those achievements were never within my reach as an individual. Not my path.

I’ve been painting, working, and supporting my Traveling Partner’s return to working, too. I’ve walked a few miles (about 600 or so, I estimate). I’ve started and finished some projects. I’ve started and failed to finish a few projects, too. I enjoyed one celebratory evening out with my beloved that is still lingering in my memory fondly. I tried out drone flying as a hobby. I got an RC car and happily drive it (it suits me better than flight). I don’t know, none of that seems odd or particularly noteworthy, just snapshots from one human life. Still, isn’t it enough for most of us to live and love and hope to learn to do those things with some measure of skill, over time? Doesn’t that amount to an achievement on its own?

…I feel fortunate…

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I’m grateful for the job I’ve got that supports the life I share with my partner. I’m grateful to be able to say I was able to provide caregiving to my beloved that helped see him through a major injury and recovery, to see him working in his shop once again. (Now that’s an achievement!) I’m grateful for our little house in a small town situated between suburbs and farm fields. I’m grateful for this well-maintained trail available to me each morning and for the sunrise I am lucky enough to see. Maybe it is all quite ordinary, it’s the experience I live, and I feel fortunate for the highs, and I try to learn something from the lows. It’s a very human experience. It’s enough.

I smile and breathe the summer morning air deeply. It smells nicely of mown grass and meadow flowers. The air is clear and still. The temperature is mild. It’s a nice pause before I begin a new day – again.

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Categories Allegories, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, joy, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being, women, Words

Adaptation

August 5, 2026 //
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This morning I do my walk, taking the loop around and heading back to the car. The air quality index is 139, unhealthy, due to wildfire smoke mostly. Worse than yesterday. I don’t really want to be out in it.

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

I walk with my thoughts before the sun rises. Cooler. The poor quality air seems to have somewhat less effect on my breathing, although still uncomfortable. I go through an entire pack of travel tissues before I complete the 1.5 mile loop. Still worth it to get out of the house awhile, before the heat of the day, and to give my Traveling Partner an opportunity to sleep, to wake, and to enjoy his coffee quietly.

My beloved delighted me with an unexpected gift yesterday evening – a handy bag for my RC car. So super cool. The best part is feeling seen and loved. I am eagerly looking forward to driving again, but this heat and the smoky air are keeping me mostly indoors. Maybe this weekend? There’s a nearby public track I’d love to check out, and maybe I will make the drive back to the hobby shop for… some reason. 😆

… I feel a bit as if I’ve found my way back to something that is part of who I am…

I’m grateful to have a partner who “gets me”, loves this person that I am, and encourages me to grow and be even more of the person I most want to be. This is a special relationship – not an “easy” one, but in the context of this romantic relationship (and really no other) I have grown so much! I think back to the woman I was in 1975, just barely on the edge of womanhood, reflecting on who I might become and what life could look like, then – I never imagined I could be here, now, living this life. A life characterized by contentment and love was so far beyond my understanding of what life could be, I hadn’t imagined such a thing. I was more focused on stuff, and money, and getting the fuck out of my parents’ home.

Smoked oaks.

I look at the trees along the trail. A smoky haze obscures the more distant horizon. The haze looks almost like a foggy morning, but for the hint of dirty brown to the color. I breathe, exhale, and relax.

The wildfire map, today.

As recently as 2016, wildfires were not yet a seasonal occurrence in this state. They definitely seem to be, now. It’s disappointing that we’ve managed to break our planet, and the people with the means (whether money or power) seem unwilling to do the needful to turn things around. I sigh to myself, wondering how much longer humanity actually has… The clock is ticking.

The sinus headache from the smoky air vexes me. There’s nothing much to be done about it; breathing smoke is unhealthy. Once I return home, I’ll definitely stay indoors as much as possible. I remind myself this too will pass. Fires will be extinguished. The wind will change direction. “Fire season” will end. The rain will return. Change is.

… In the meantime, I’ll adapt, and I’ll begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being, Words

Reflections

August 3, 2026 //
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The morning feels chilly on the trail as daybreak comes. The forecast says the day will be hot. My short sleeves manage to feel like a poor choice for the moment, right now.

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

The weekend was pretty amazing. Not easy, not comfortable, not entirely peaceful or joyful, but certainly heartfelt, deeply connected and meaningful. A necessary step on a long journey together, I suppose. Weirdly, I am missing my Traveling Partner intensely this morning, though he is no further away than home. Funny how subjective our emotions and perception of reality can be. We really are each having our own experience.

I’m thinking about one detail of the weekend that matters greatly to me. For context, many years ago, living in Germany, I bought an RC car kit. I was excited about it. It was a very detailed kit that required me to build it more or less entirely from a box of parts. When it was built it was amazing and ran beautifully! I was so excited. My then-husband helped me a bit with some of the electrical pieces I didn’t understand, but in general seemed not exactly uninterested, but watchful. Very little time passed before he stomped my car to pieces in a fit of rage. I only got to drive it once. Since then I haven’t considered RC cars as a hobby. I pushed the whole issue – car, enthusiasm, trauma, tears, and lingering baggage left behind – into a tiny box in a dark corner of my mind and memory, and marked it “do not open”.

… This weekend I opened the box…

More specifically, my Traveling Partner did, without planning to. It started some weeks ago with him buying me a drone and sharing time together learning and taking the TRUST test to safely and legally fly recreationally. It started with the first time I flew my drone – and realized quickly that I’m maybe not personally ideally suited for hobbies that include actual flight. (A combination of neck pain, poor eyesight, and cognitive limitations that make remembering all the many rules and restrictions difficult make flying difficult, nothing tragic.) I said something about having once had an RC car, and quickly realized my mistake; the box was open. I tried to close it up again, only to find myself standing in a big pile of stinking rotting baggage that had to be cleaned up at long last.

The way out is through. It was one more bit of trauma to work through. I like cars. I like driving. I like the fun and delight of miniatures. I like tinkering with small machines. My Traveling Partner gently forced the issue into the open. We talked. I gave up my drone with an emotionally difficult admission that my interest in flying a drone was more about loving him and sharing the time and fun with him. I admitted I prefer cars. He was encouraging and supportive and even pointing out that we could still enjoy that fun together; him flying, me driving.

I know there will still be reflections of past trauma to heal and old baggage to unpack… but I’ve taken a big step. I watched numerous videos with my beloved. We talked cars for hours and looked at videos. He likes cars, too, and has a love of, and affinity for, machines generally. So many choices. We looked at all kinds of RC cars in a variety of scales and styles. I found one car that really captivated me. Again and again, it turned up in moments of “ooh!”, “ah!”, and “wow!”. He talked about driving to the hobby store together and I was an eager yes. At some point he gently asked if I might find value in going alone, and independently making my choice and purchase, having settled on a budget (he has an astute sense of such things and reliably takes steps to support my autonomy and emotional wellness). I definitely knew which car I wanted. Calling the shop had confirmed they had one. I admitted I’d enjoy going by myself. He assured me he had work he needed to get done and kissed me sweetly, all love, before I left.

Zoom zoom.

… I have an RC car. I drove it that very evening after charging the batteries. She’s super cute and crazy fast (even on the lowest speed I was blown away by how fast she zips along). I stared a piece of profound emotional damage in the face and said, at long last, “you have no power over me”, and meant it. That’s a powerful step on this journey.

… and I even got the laundry done…

I smile as the sun rises, thinking about life, love, drones and RC cars. I think about beginnings. I think about the next time I get to drive – maybe after work today? I think about building a display diorama to park my car in when I’m not driving her. 😆 I breathe, exhale, and relax, grateful for this partnership and the beautiful weekend of deep connection and heartfelt conversations. I forget, momentarily, that it is Monday.

There was more to the weekend and to the work and changes that will come out of it, but this is representative of the character of the weekend generally. Loving partners working honestly through a variety of issues together in a meaningful loving way. Beautiful.

I sit smiling in the summer sunshine filled with gratitude, contentment, and love. It’s a nice beginning to a new week. August already? The clock is ticking. I get to my feet to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, grief, joy, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5, women, Words

Shapes of Things

August 1, 2026 //
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I woke early, in spite of wanting to sleep in. I got up, dressed, and left the house. Filled my gas tank. Got coffee on my way up the highway to the nature park to walk the marsh trail, more meadow than marsh at this point in the summer.

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

Scene from a summer walk, we choose what we pay attention to. Mostly.

I sigh to myself as I walk. My left ankle has decided for me that this spot, right here, is “halfway”. It isn’t. Not at all, but it is definitely where I am stopping!

There is a convenient viewpoint with a bench only a little further. I take the next few steps slowly and carefully, grateful for my sturdy trekking pole that is my outdoor cane. I sit down, grateful, relieved, and content to be here in this place. I have the trail to myself – or did when I got started (first to arrive, pulling in just as the gate opened with a screech). It is quiet and cloudy. Looks and feels like maybe rain later… the forecast disagrees. Another heatwave soon. I am reminded to add a “hose” to my shopping list to replace a section that split and began to leak just a couple days ago.

The meadow grasses are dry and brown, with the white flowers of wild carrot or maybe Queen Anne’s Lace seeming to float above the waves of brown. The yellow clusters of wild St John’s Wort here and there add a bit of color. The wild roses are mostly done blooming, but don’t yet have hips. The lupines are long gone, even the seed pods have split and spilled their seeds, and withered. I breathe the scent of the summer meadow, exhale, and relax.

… It’s a good thing I’m not in any hurry today, the walk back will be a slow one…

I think about the day ahead. There’s housework to be done. I can probably fill the day with it. I feel myself shrug, an involuntary gesture of acceptance. I guess I’m okay with it. I’ll put on a playlist and dance through the chores until my body just can’t do more, and maybe get caught up a bit.

My mind wanders to RC cars, N scale railroad, Barbie dolls, and painting cast figurines… “hobbies”, past, present, and considered once or often. The clock is ticking. How do I pass my time, find joy, and indulge in play as an adult? A healthy life isn’t built on chores, wage earning, and sleep – there’s more to it. Isn’t there? I have choices and options.

…We shape our experience with our choices…

I breathe, exhale, and relax, and think about the way I have shaped my life, and what shape it might take if I choose differently. Small changes add up. It’s a lot to stay on top of, seeking to make willful changes… Verbs. Choices. Repetition. Reminders. Self-reflection. Incremental change over time, moment by moment, experience by experience, action by action. We become what we practice. (This is serious and powerful, because it is true both of what we want to become, and also of what we loathe, but persist in practicing.)

I’ll finish my walk. Do some grocery shopping, and head home to shape the life I want to live through the use of some well chosen verbs (meaning to say, doing some housework). Where the path may lead me from there, I don’t know. It is the path I choose, but I’ve still got to walk it. I have to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being, women, Words
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