Archives for posts with tag: do better

It’s fire season again. The morning sky is a peculiar hazy pink at dawn, and the colorful sunrise is lovely, but there’s something about the hues that reminds me that to the east, in even hotter, dryer, places, the world is burning.

Beauty at what cost?

One might expect us to be better stewards of our precious planet than we have proven ourselves to be, considering we have no other. I stop along the path to rest and write and think. It’s a warm morning that will precede a hot day. I got out on the trail before sunrise. It was already 70°F (about 21°C). Hot for this area, this time of morning, even in summertime – or used to be. The view of the hills and mountains to the west are obscured by a dirty looking blue gray haze.  I look at the map of the region with the “wildfire layer” turned on. It’s alarming enough that such a feature exists at all, isn’t it?

Oregon, Idaho, Northern California, and beyond; it’s fire season.

I sigh to myself, and realize that my stuffy head may be “nothing more” than an air quality issue. I check the air quality index reporting – it rather strangely calls the air quality “good”. I disagree, as someone breathing it, and look to see how they get that result. Huh. They measure a handful of variables but neither smoke nor particulate matter are among them (and I have the recollection that it used to be included)*. I wonder at that, reminded that we live in a country whose leaders apparently think sanitizing history to be more palatable for those in power actually changes reality (it doesn’t). Human primates are fucking strange.

I sit watching the sunrise, from a familiar favorite vantage point. It’s not an ideal spot for pictures, the composition is cluttered and awkward, but I enjoy the view as it is, trees too close in the foreground silhouetted against the magenta and orange of the colorful sky. There’s a convenient large rock to sit on, and I have the trail to myself.

I’m in no hurry, and have no plan for the day besides staying cool and hydrated, and maybe getting a little bit done around the house. It’s a weekend, but changing jobs comes with a period of time not regulated by the requirements of work days nor bookended by weekends. Days are days, and tasks are tasks, and these mortal moments are mine to spend as I wish. I’ll make a point of enjoying that while it lasts, simultaneously hoping it doesn’t last long, which amuses me for some reason I can’t pinpoint. (At this point, I think we probably all understand that if I could, I would spend my days painting, writing, and dancing barefoot in my kitchen while I prepare something tasty, right? I wouldn’t work if I didn’t have to, I have other things I’d rather be doing. Reality doesn’t care about my daydreams.)

The sun peeks over the horizon and the trees to the west of me are illuminated. I see hints of russet and gold mixed in the green of summer foliage. It hints that autumn is coming. The seasons of the Pacific Northwest: winter, spring, summer, fire, fall… It is the season of fire, and it feels like the world is burning.

I sigh quietly and brush the small twigs, dirt, and bits of leaves off my jeans as I get to my feet. There’s further to go, and this trail isn’t going to walk itself. We’ve each got to walk our own mile, and do our own work. The journey is the destination. I look down the trail ahead, and get ready to begin again.

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*And these details are included. I failed to read with sufficient care and was corrected by my Traveling Partner (thanks!). Fact-checking matters. Stupid can come for us all. 😂

My last day out here in the trees. The night was chilly, and my sleep was restless. Noisy families. Noisy late arrivals. Distant sirens. Humanity is noisy. We’re not very good at quiet.

The nearby hydroelectric dam that creates Estacada Lake is one more source of noise, in the background.

We’re also not good at “leaving no trace”. Yesterday, I spotted pop cans, coffee cups, and bits of assorted trash in the brush along the edges of every trail I walked. Not a lot, but that isn’t the point – any is too much. Disappointing. This morning I took a trash bag with me on my mid-morning (after breakfast) (and second coffee) hike. (Might have been easier to say “my second hike” this morning.) I returned to camp with the bag half full, and feeling I’d done at least a little something to make the world just a little bit better in some small way. I’m not feeling smug about it, more that I’m grateful to have had it in me to lug that bag along the whole distance. Some days I just don’t.

Where does this path lead?

… G’damn my feet ache. 😆 I’m not bitching, just noticing…

I’ve put a few miles on my boots and seen a few things.

I settle into my camp chair and put my feet up on the seat of the picnic table. I drink water. I sit with my thoughts, a little bit distracted by adjacent campers breaking down their camps for departure. I’m thinking about it, myself; there’s a strong forecast of rain beginning in the wee hours and not expected to end until quite late in the day, tomorrow. I dislike tearing down camp in the rain. Wet gear doesn’t pack easily, and reliably needs to be unpacked to dry out and repacked all over again before going back into storage until next time. I don’t like the extra work involved. I don’t like getting wet while I’m breaking down my camp.

…If you don’t like the circumstances, choose differently…

I know my Traveling Partner misses me, and that I’ll be welcomed home. I still reach out and check that I won’t be inconveniencing him with a change of plans – that’s basic courtesy. I respect his time and plans the way he respects mine. So… Stay? Go? I’m leaning towards heading home this afternoon, late enough to enjoy this beautiful sunny day, early enough to be home for dinner. I do a mental walk through of the repacking. I consider small changes to what I’ve got packed where, with my next trip in mind.

Sooo many chipmunks!

I breathe, exhale, and relax, and let all that go in favor of “now”. Begin again? It can wait for some later moment. I sit watching the chipmunks playing in the sunshine (so many chipmunks!). Maybe another coffee…?

Not “brand placement”, not “sponsored content”, just a woman thinking about another cup of coffee. 😂

And bunnies…

… one of many.

So… I’m sitting here enjoying the breeze and the sounds of the birds and squirrels and chipmunks, and letting the idea of it being my last day become more real and settled. I’ll have another coffee, maybe another short hike and a bite of lunch… Then I’ll pack up the gear and begin again. This trip into the trees has served its purpose, and that’s enough (it was never about the plan).

This morning I woke gently, and having planned to work from home today, I dressed without rushing at all, expecting to go for my walk and return to my desk at home afterward. My Traveling Partner was already up – which is not completely unusual, but it’s rare enough that I inquired about whether he’d rather I worked in the office today, so he could maybe get some additional rest a little later.

…The commute to the office was ordinary in every way. Not much traffic. Beautiful sunrise. The morning skittered sideways unexpectedly as soon as the car was parked. Dumb stuff; I dropped my keys and they managed to fall under the car, forcing me to get down on the ground to retrieve them (immediately regretting my choice of parking spot for reasons I won’t go into). I broke a nail getting back up. I dropped my handbag as I entered the elevator, resulting in dumping about half the contents on the floor. From there, it turned out my password had expired in the door-lock app for the office door, requiring a password reset and considerable fumbling with my device. I finally get to my desk, but I can’t log into my tools; updates, password resets, tool and system access changes… it seemed like everything that could slow me down was queued up to do so this morning. Hell, the router in the office had gotten knocked to the floor sometime over the weekend, and when it was put back, apparently, it wasn’t checked to ensure it was actually still on! So, on top of all that other bullshit, I also had to troubleshoot the office connectivity, to get my day started. Fuuuuuck. An added irritant developed that was wholly unimportant, just annoying; the door stop wasn’t stopping the door. I’d prop it open, it would slide closed once my back was turned. This repeated several times. I finally got annoyed enough to kick the door, which caused me more pain (some) than any damage done to the door (none). Monday morning score? Circumstances 10+, this human right here? 0. LOL Circumstances were definitely winning.

It was the childish kick to the door that reminded me of set and setting, and choices – my mindset, specifically, and where I was, which is to say in the office, preparing for the work day and the choice I clearly have regarding whether to allow these circumstances to determine the quality of my experience. I sighed out loud, swore softly, and let all that bullshit go. I mean, eventually. Finally. Once I had some perspective on how childishly I was reacting to a handful of common enough small inconveniences that had managed to pile on for some Monday “fun” (for some values of “fun”, and depending on your point of view). Seriously – we do become what we practice. Practice giving in to bad temper and frustration, practice having needless unproductive tantrums, we eventually embody that lack of self-control and lost resilience in future moments of inconvenience, reliably. It’s not necessary – we can choose differently, practice something else, and be that, instead.

…What do I personally most want to be in the face of frustration and annoyance? Calm. Chill. Adaptable. Relatively pleasant in spite of circumstances. Capable. Clearly this requires practice – and I need more of that. LOL

I grin to myself, sipping my coffee, having found my way back to some sense of perspective. I’ve coped with the inconveniences. I’ve addressed the circumstances. The day is “back on track” to be an utterly routine workday in all forseeable regards. My emotions are sorted out. I’m ready for the day – aside from being a little embarassed to be such a fucking child sometimes, and more than a little grateful to have had the office alone for that. I definitely prefer to be alone if I’m going to be a childish fuckwit about some perfectly ordinary inconvenience(s). lol I breathe, exhale, and relax. I let the inconveniences of the morning become the past, and I move on. I’ve got too much to do to waste time ruminating over how it is I’m not perfect or getting mired in “poor me” bullshit. I shrug it off, and get on with other things.

It’s a lovely morning. The sunrise was pretty, in soft pastels, and subtle hues of pink, peach, and lavender. The coffee is good this morning, which is always a nice detail (if you like coffee). The chaos of the morning’s beginning isn’t enough to “cancel” the beauty of a sunrise. I’m grateful to have seen it. I notice the ticking clock, and realize it is already time to begin again…

I’m sipping my coffee on a sunny summer morning. I woke earlier than necessary, tackled a gardening task my Traveling Partner asked me to attend to before I left for the office. The commute was an ordinary enough sort of drive, with very little traffic and a lovely sunrise I’d happily have enjoyed just sitting and watching, if it were that sort of morning. (It isn’t; it’s a work day and I had an early call.) I sigh to myself, now, thinking of other sunrises, and other summer mornings.

The Fourth of July is just ahead of us on the calendar, and I find myself wondering… what are we even celebrating, with democracy going down in flames, ridiculous new heights of governmental cruelty being achieved, and authoritarianism on the rise in this once (mostly) democratic republic? Surely we’re not stupid and arrogant enough to think we’re celebrating our national independence? We can’t possibly still see ourselves as “the good guys” on the world stage (particularly after betraying multiple trusts, treaties, and allies)? It’s all rather grotesque, isn’t it? How did we get here? (I mean, critical thinking and rational contemplation will easily answer that question for you, but you may not like the answer. I know I don’t.) Do better, America – you so easily could. I’m honestly deeply disappointed, not only as a citizen, but also as a military veteran. I don’t have any easy answers, but I can see this is “not the way”. Nothing about the path we’re on is “making America great”.

I sigh to myself and let that shit go. Again. I look out the window on a lovely summer morning, and wish you well, today (each and all of you). I hope no one is coming for you and that you feel safe. I hope you experience moments of joy, both profound and simple, and often. I hope you are loved. I hope you are walking your own path, finding your own way, and satisfied with the journey you are making. I hope you’re getting somewhere in life – and that your successes are as you, yourself, define success. I hope you thrive and prosper. (And no, I don’t care about your immigration status, religion, gender, or the color of your skin – we’re all equally human, are we not?) I hope that if you are sick, you have adequate resources and access to necessary medical care. I hope that if you find yourself anxious that you also find hope and comfort. I hope gratitude is a larger part of your experience than resentment, and that your curiosity about the world around you dampens your anger over circumstances. I hope you find equity and that you are treated fairly in life. I hope you free yourself from poor decision-making and unverified assumptions. I hope you take a moment to enjoy simply being, now and then, and appreciate how precious each moment really is.

Human beings have so much capacity for love, joy, and compassion. We could do better than we often do, each of us, every day. I sit with that thought – I’m no angel. I’m not perfect. I struggle. I yearn. I fret over nonsense. I keep practicing; we become what we practice. (What are you practicing? Is that who you truly wish to be?)

I think about the things I’ve seen in life. The places I’ve been. As journeys go, this thing called “life” has lead me far and wide, down one path and then another, and there’s no knowing what is around the next bend – more practicing, more steps, and further to go, but… what else? Where does this path lead? I guess I’ll know once I get there, wherever “there” happens to be. I breathe, exhale, and relax, and embrace this very pleasant “now”. I know it’ll pass – moments always do. No telling what’s next, so it only makes sense to enjoy this, right here, for every second of this finite mortal life that can be enjoyed, eh?

My mind wanders to my garden, before returning to the workday in front of me. A long weekend ahead sounds nice, though I don’t prefer the summer heat, and genuinely don’t see what it is we should be celebrating on the 4th of July these days. My sigh breaks the stillness, again. My anxiety flares up in the background; the world is in chaos, and sometimes I feel as if I can’t breathe because of it. Existential dread is an ass-kicker. I take time for meditation to steady myself for another day. It’s time to begin again.

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.