Archives for posts with tag: cost of living

One of Twelve

January 30, 2026 //
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Well. January is almost behind us. One twelfth of the year, gone. By this point, many resolutions have failed, and a lot of people are losing (have lost?) the motivation to change that propelled their goal-setting. How about you? Are you still sticking to a plan, pursuing a goal, chasing a dream, or even slogging along at a practice that does not yet feel really settled and part of your day-to-day experience?

Me, I’d have to look back to see what I even thought about at that time when people are adopting some resolution for the new year. When I do, I find myself thinking about debt, and choosing change, the futility of most resolutions. I find myself recognizing that change is, and planning to make a reading list for the new year (which I didn’t get around to doing! LOL). Looking back on the month, I don’t feel any disappointment or regret – only a bit of astonishment at how busy it has seemed, and how quickly it passed.

…January already gone…

I sip my coffee, knock out the budget for another pay cycle. Exchange a few words with my Traveling Partner, who is already up for the day, himself. It is an ordinary Friday. Bills to pay. Grocery shopping to plan (and do). Prescriptions to pick up. Errands. Chores. Life. Ask me what I want to be doing today – I assure you it is not work. I’d so much rather put my feet up somewhere with mild temperatures and pleasant weather, a nice view of… something… and a well-made coffee, and simply be for awhile, at leisure, my time and my thoughts my own. No time pressure. No to-do list. No concerns. Just a sweet floral breeze, or the scent of the ocean blowing in from the shore, a cup of coffee and some solitude. I’d settle for a camp stove and an outdoor pour-over made from beans ground too long ago, surrounded by trees and playful chipmunks… or… here. Now. This moment isn’t that far off the mark. I’m sitting in a chain cafe, with my laptop open in front of me, enjoying my coffee with “an unseen friend” (that’s you). I smile to myself realizing how easily I could distance myself from contentment in this moment by yearning for some other rather similar moment that is not now. I chuckle to myself; a human being, being human. We can be pretty g’damned foolish.

So, I guess what I’m saying is – if that goal or resolution was really important to you, and you’ve already fallen to sloth or become distracted or lost focus…begin again. Just reset, and start over. Seriously. It’s your goal, you get to define success your way. You get to begin again, any time. Redefine the scope of your project. Change the timeline, change the milestones. Refine your approach. It’s yours to do your own way. You’re walking your path, not any other. Hell, maybe putting it down and reconsidering things completely is the correct next step for you? What is the end result you’re going for? How much work are you really willing to do?

…We become what we practice…

I sip my coffee listening to bad muzak, grateful that I’m not out in the darkness and the rain. (I do prefer to walk in daylight, sometimes circumstances present other opportunities. lol) Friday. The weekend is ahead. I haven’t made a lot of plans or anything – I’ve been making a point to get some rest each weekend, this year. It’s been worthwhile. I’ve made time to read – which I promised myself I would – and I’ve made time to play my favorite video game (I rarely play for long, and sometimes go many weeks without playing at all). I’ve spent more time in conversation with my Traveling Partner, and more time enjoying moments of solitude when the opportunity arose. I’m looking forward to camping weather returning, but seasons are what they are, and I don’t like camping in colder weather; sleeping on the ground aggravates my arthritis. S’ok, there are plenty of books to read and recipes to try while the weather is crappy.

It’s a good start to a rather ordinary day. I’m okay with that. I’m not seeking some spectacularly exciting life in which every day is a whirlwind of activity and drama. I’m happy when things are easy, and there’s very little friction or stress. I smile thinking about my elders, when I was growing up, and lazy summer afternoons relaxing with an iced tea or a cold beer on the screened in back porch, looking out over the hillside down to the creek, or gathering in the twilight to watch the fireflies come out. How is contentment not a goal for more people? Why are so many people working so hard to make their own experience more complicated, less easy? I don’t understand that, myself. I’m pretty nearly always looking for “easy”. lol

…I’m just saying, we can reach contentment through practice. Chasing happiness, on the other hand, is a losing race; that’s not how we find happiness. (I most often “find” happiness when it sneaks up on me through a moment of contentment.)

Don’t like where you’re sitting? Choose change. Make a choice, do the verbs. It’s your journey, you choose the route. On the other hand, if you are content where you are, comfortable with your life as it is, okay with your circumstances just as they are, then enjoy that without guilt or shame or awkwardness! Don’t let anyone tell you that you have to work harder to get to a goal you don’t personally value. No one has that kind of time to waste – our mortal lives are all too brief.

What a fucking year this is, already. I sigh to myself and let that go. I’m okay. No bombs dropping here, and I’m grateful. No masked ICE thugs in the parking lot here and I’m grateful for that too, although it is dismaying that I would even have to think about it. Work is work – and I’m grateful to have the job I do. Could be worse. Generally speaking, things are pretty good. I’m grateful for this moment of contentment, and this hot coffee, and the partner I will go home to later on, and the little house we share, and the modern conveniences we are fortunate to enjoy. It is enough.

I look at the clock. I’ll have time to get a walk around the muddy “fitness track” near the library after daybreak, before work. Convenient. That, too, is enough, and it’s time to begin again. 😀

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Categories 2024 Election, Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, The Art of Being, War and News of War, winter, Words

Low Drama Insomnia

January 23, 2026 //
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My sleep was poor last night. Frequently interrupted by one noise or another, but also sometimes just because I simply woke up for no obvious reason. It’s fine. I’ve had a problematic relationship with sleep all my life. I finally woke at a time sufficiently close to the time I generally get up that I went ahead and got up. Would it be coffee or walking? The forecast suggests coffee – another freezing morning. I dress and head out, hoping that I avoided waking anyone, and grateful that in spite of my restless night I’m not feeling groggy.

Each time I woke during the night, I’d turn over or shift the covers or fluff my pillow seeking new comfort, eventually returning to sleep (once waking from a deep sleep surprised to find myself waking; I had been dreaming I was awake, laying there in the darkness lol). I wasn’t stressed or anxious over being wakeful, it happens. Insomnia lost a lot of its power over me when I stopped being anxious about the insomnia itself, or the lost hours of sleep. (Now and then, if wakefulness overtakes me more thoroughly, I just get up, read or write or paint or meditate for awhile, but last night wasn’t that kind of night.) I woke often, returned to sleep eventually, and repeated that experience several times during the night, about every 90 minutes or so. I’m okay for most values of okay, in spite of that. I couldn’t get by on this kind of shitty sleep indefinitely (although I have in years past). I may be tired to the point of being fairly dull or actually stupid later today; I remind myself to get important cognitively dense tasks and work requiring focus knocked out early in the day.

Perspective is a big deal; the spiders in life are not actually as big as they sometimes look.

The restless night causes me less concern that this feeling lately that I “just don’t want to be part of any of this”, and a latent yearning to “walk away” from “all of it”. I know myself pretty well. There’s nothing specifically “wrong” such that resolving that would clear up this feeling, it’s more to do with just not being easily able to get a particular need met well in a way that satisfies it (a need for solitude and a break from emotional labor). I struggle to escape awareness of all the madness going on in the world, and every day there’s some new bit of unbelievable petty unfathomable craziness from the demented elder cohort leading the nation (the cruelty of this adminstration is astonishing and revolting). It stresses me out even to the minmal degree news reaches me at all. (I’m really trying to avoid it for my own sanity.) I’m still – to an extent – in a caregiving role, and present circumstances being what they are (economically, financially, socially…) I can’t just drop everything and check-in to a beachfront hotel, turn my notifications off for a a long weekend, and just paint, and write, and be alone. (In 2023, I could get an off-season room on the coast for $40-$50 per night, right on the beach. Now even off-season rooms are $200 per night at old rundown motels on the other side of the highway, with no view or beach access.) It’s definitely too cold (for me) for camping, too. The time is not now. I’m tied to this experience by the requirements of work and life, the limitations of my circumstances, and I’m reluctant to tell people I care about to fuck off (for awhile) and just leave me alone. I want very much to meet my need for solitude without causing anyone pain or suffering or hurt feelings (creating chaos and drama while seeking to escape chaos and drama defeats the purpose entirely). Anyway, I’m painfully aware that regardless, I’d be dragging my baggage with me, and it is in fact something within myself that I’m seeking to evade, escape, or “fix”. Reliably. I sigh at the inner recognition and acknowledgement. So… what to do about it, though? I sip my coffee and reflect on that awhile.

As with any choice, there are verbs involved.

I find myself feeling sympathetic towards the Anxious Adventurer – this “self-awareness”, and “self-reflection” stuff isn’t without its challenges, and this human journey that is so much about self-discovery and growth is not an easy one. We are each having our own experience on a journey without a map.

Walk your own path, choose your own verbs, and build your own practices.

It is Friday. The weekend is ahead. I breathe, exhale, and relax. A week of working from my employer’s San Francisco office follows the weekend (I fly down Tuesday, return home Friday night). I smile at myself for the tempting thought that I might get some solitary time, if only in the very early morning and in the evenings after work, while I am in San Francisco, but it didn’t work out that way last time at all. The opportunity to collaborate with colleagues in a shared space resulted in longer work hours, and no time alone of note. The company puts us up in a comfortable clean hotel, and I’m grateful for that. I will probably sleep well, but I don’t expect much solitary time, or leisure unless I make a point to carve out time for myself and set very firm boundaries. I smirk at myself knowingly; it’s a coin toss. That’s why I keep practicing; I clearly need the practice. lol

Perspective is sometimes about the view from a singular moment. If I stand somewhere else, doesn’t my perspective change? 🙂

I sigh to myself. I’m okay for most values of “okay”. Life is pretty good, most of the time. Hell, I may not have slept well, but the morning is not as cold as forecast, my headache isn’t bad, my arthritis pain is well-managed – I feel okay. Things could be worse. A lot worse. I’m bitching that I don’t have everything, and can’t satisfy every need I have or soothe every emotion I feel. Shit, we’ve all got problems, right? This journey isn’t effortless or infinitely pleasant, and our “second dart suffering” is the larger share of our suffering for much of our mortal life – and we can make choices that reduce that a lot. I breathe, exhale, and relax, and make a point to let go from clinging to my suffering. In this moment, here, now, things are pretty much fine. Good coffee. Warm cafe. Pleasant music in the background. A weekend just a few hours away. Less than usual physical pain. What is there to suffer over, really? I mean, right here, right now? I’m among the very fortunate; I have a paying job, a cozy home, medical care, potable drinking water, and there are not bombs dropping here, nor am I at high risk of being assaulted or kidnapped by the government thugs roaming our communities in masked packs. Viewed that way, it’s more than a little annoying and self-indulgent to sit here with my hot coffee on a cold day bitching about not being able to get away (from my pleasant life)! I chuckle softly to myself; I am a human being, being quite human.

My coffee has gone cold. Tepid, at least. I don’t really care; I notice and move on. The clock keeps ticking. The music plays on. Daybreak will soon touch the horizon. The pings on my consciousness of various notifications start piling up. Seems like a good moment to begin again. I wonder where this path leads?

Once we choose our path, we’ve still got to walk it. The journey is the destination. 🙂
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Categories 2024 Election, Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Sleepless Nights, The Art of Being, War and News of War, winter, women, Words

Begin Somewhere

January 20, 2026 //
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Fresh baked bread has been sounding really yummy and satisfying, lately. I don’t have much bread baking experience, but I’ve got a lot of recipes. My Traveling Partner has skills in this area, and bakes a lovely loaf of bread now and then. He offers to share pointers and help knead…if needed. 😀 Yesterday, I sat down with my cookbooks, selecting a basic looking “egg bread” recipe from the Good Housekeeping Cookbook (although in my later edition “salt” as an ingredient seems to have been simply removed from most of the recipes, I know to add it back for flavor and the recipes are hilariously often my Dad’s “secret recipe”, and it is a favorite cookbook for that reason). I baked a couple loaves of bread in the afternoon, yesterday, which elevated an otherwise tediously ordinary meal at dinnertime. Satisfying.

Where we end up depends on the choices we make.

I could have made a potato side dish, or something else. I was really wanting fresh baked bread, yesterday, enough to make some. lol I’m not any sort of expert baker, just a woman in a kitchen with a handful of carefully selected cookbooks, trying new things. It was fun. I followed the directions, and took heed of the tips my Traveling Partner shared with me. It turned out well. (Life should be so easy!) It was a satisfying experience. The bread is really good, if fairly ordinary. I wasn’t going for anything fancy or complicated – just something I could start, finish, and succeed with. It wasn’t a costly endeavor, at about $1 a packet for yeast, about $0.50 for a cup of milk, and about $1 a pound for bread flour. The eggs still seem a bit expensive (about $0.66 each), but the price has come down some since last year. Whole healthy real food, made from real ingredients – no fillers, no shortcuts, no preservatives, no additives; tasty and healthy. There were verbs involved, and real effort, and time… and that’s okay. The outcome was so worth it.

Self-care comes in many forms.

It was a remarkably restful weekend, for me. Most of the housework was already “caught up” because we had planned on the Author’s visit. When that fell through, my housekeeping routine was rendered sort of pointless with so much already done. With my Traveling Partner’s encouragement, I took it easy, and made a point to rest, to read, to play video games, and generally chill and have a good time at home. I needed that more than I knew. I sigh contentedly. It’s a Monday Tuesday and that’s okay, too. The weather has been odd. Warmer than expected, sunny in the afternoons, and not especially wintry. I teased myself with maybe getting out into the garden and getting some things done there. This morning? This morning reminds me that it is indeed winter; it’s cold. The car was frosted over and sparkled under the street light. The temperature is an icy 28°F (-2.2°C). I’m not interested in an icy walk in the dark, and head to the cafe I’ve been frequenting as a too cold/inclement weather alternative to walking in the dark. My coffee is hot, and made well. It’s a good start to a new day, and I sip it slowly, enjoying the warmth of the cup in my hands.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s an unremarkable pleasant morning that would be a Monday if it weren’t a Tuesday (yesterday was a holiday). I remind myself to call my doctor’s office and request a refill on an Rx that I’ve run out of. (I didn’t fail to notice I needed a refill, I failed to communicate that to my doctor’s office when I noticed I was due – still a failure, and as a result I’m scrambling. It’s a small thing, easily remedied, if I remember to make that call.) Ordinary stuff. Life. Choices. Consequences.

That’s the thing, isn’t it? We sometimes make our lives or circumstances more complicated that they really need to be. We create a considerable amount of the drama that vexes us. We make choices we know are likely to turn out poorly in some moment, and then behave as though we’re surprised that things went so very wrong. Human primates are weird. A lot of our suffering in life is self-inflicted. We’re often more inclined to complain about the quality of the bread we’ve got, than to bake fresh loaves for our own delight. I sip my coffee and think about that awhile. My mind wanders to the many things that can be made from stale bread: croutons, stuffing, breadcrumbs, bread pudding, French toast, semmelknödel, and more. There’s a lesson here, isn’t there? Something to do with choices, with suffering, with creating something satisfying from something less than ideal? Something to do with steps on a path, and choices. Bread as a metaphor?

I sip my coffee contentedly, thinking about fresh-baked bread, self-care, love, partnership, and creating moments of shared joy. I begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, joy, Parables, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, The Art of Being, winter, women, Words