Archives for posts with tag: do better

I had a moment yesterday. Feelings of loneliness and despair began to well up seemingly out of “nowhere”. It wasn’t “nowhere”, of course, these are troubling, baffling times for ethical compassionate people who want (and work) to see good in the world. I took a moment to shed some private tears and regain my balance, to self-soothe, and step back from thoughts of things I can’t influence directly or change in any practical immediate way.

“Breathe, exhale, relax.” I reminded myself. It helped and the evening moved on.

There’s still blue sky overhead.

If you’re hurting and struggling with the strange terrible times we’re in, you’re not alone, I promise you. Be kind. Be considerate. Be your best self in spite of seeming to be surrounded by a world of monsters. Look with scorn on terrible people, but don’t let them transform you. Don’t become the thing you find detestable. Don’t let the bad acts and cruelty of the world make you cruel, yourself. Resist the poor choices your own anger and fear nudge you towards and stand firm on your resolve and your convictions. Be the person you most want to be, not whatever facsimile of humanity it may seem that you are expected or encouraged to become by circumstances, systems, or corrupt individuals. Be honest. Be real. Speak truth to power. Make the wisest choices you can for the greatest good within your family, tribe, and community. Be the change you wish to see in the world. It’s not a platitude if you make it real in your own experience.

Remember that the goblin king has no power over you. He is a farce. He is a fiction. Make your own choices. Use your own words. Be the main character in your story, instead of an NPC in the game of life.

It’s a new day. A new beginning.

This morning I watch the sunrise. I listen to birds singing cheerily along the trail. No tears. I am okay right now. Sometimes shit gets hard because I actually do care, and all by itself that can be a hell of a burden to bear. It’s an interesting path I’ve chosen in life, and it isn’t paved, and I don’t have a map. Sometimes the going is easy, sometimes it is difficult. Regardless, it is a worthy journey of being and becoming, and I walk on.

I sigh quietly as I walk. Trolls and monsters and lines on maps – it’s a strange and sometimes scary world, but the journey is the destination and it isn’t really “about” any of that. Those are worldly distractions. I remind myself to be present, here, now. To be kind. To be the woman I most want to be. To make wise choices. To listen well and deeply, and to love with my whole heart.

I listen to my footsteps on the trail. The clock is ticking. It’s time to begin again.

I watched the moon setting as I walked this local trail this morning. Lovely. It’s not quite a full moon, but as I drove to the trailhead. it was plump and luminous, a beautiful pearl in the night sky.

I snap a picture from the parking lot.

The moon began to turn a ruddy antique gold sort of hue as it sunk lower on the horizon, still enough to light the way. I cross the parking lot pleased to start down the path in a westerly direction. I am enjoying watching the moon set, over the vineyards, and through the trees.

I walked with my thoughts, watching the moon, listening to the birds singing unseen in the trees and shrubs along the path. Another work day, but all that begins later and I don’t think much about it as I walk. This is not that moment. I’m also not thinking about the world, nor mired in the crap going on beyond this moment on this trail. It’s a pleasant morning and I embrace the calm, the joy, and the simplicity of this bit of “now” right here.

When I get to my halfway point I sit down to write a bit. I choose a spot that faces east and watch daybreak becoming dawn. My head is kind of stuffy; Spring allergies. I remind myself to pick up more allergy medicine at the drugstore later, and wonder if the price will have gone up? I let that go and grin happily, noticing a plump robin near my feet, ignoring me while he checks out the surroundings looking for something tasty. Then I shift uncomfortably. Arthritis pain. I let that go too, while I can, and pull myself back to other aspects of here and now. The fragrant Spring air is slightly chilly but not unpleasant.

My Traveling Partner pings me a loving greeting and I am reminded of the passing of time. It’s s new day. Stuff to do. Other moments to live and enjoy. Looks like it’s time to begin again. I finish my writing and brush some moss off my jeans as I stand and turn back on the trail.

I stop along the trail for a message from my Traveling Partner about a housekeeping detail. I’d rather it would have been a greeting or a love note, but it was not. It was a complaint (phrased as a request for action). It’s not an unreasonable request, not at all, and I add it to my list of shit to do without further discussion.

It’s a new day. What will you make of it?

Once upon a time, I was often the most negative person in most groups or conversations. I was cynical, irritable, easily angered, frustrated, and disappointed with people and circumstances, and I found very little joy in life. I complained a lot, about a lot of things, often. I told myself I was funny but that couldn’t have been much fun to be around. I sip my coffee and reflect on how much less often I complain about things these days and how much joy and contentment I find in life, generally. I’m in a very different place. (It took work and practice to get here.)

It isn’t that there is actually less in the world to complain about (I mean, seriously? We’re basically watching the world burn). I don’t find value in complaining as a form of communication, in my relationships. It has its place, I suppose. The negativity of it grates on my nerves. There are better ways. Kind frankness and gentle words are more comfortable to receive and more pleasant to act upon, day-to-day. My Traveling Partner, long ago, asked me to be less negative, and since then I’ve walked a very different path – and I’m glad I did (although it turned out he meant something different by it). I enjoy my life so much more. That’s the thing about negativity; it’s emotionally corrosive, and undermines joy, limits satisfaction, and creates discontent. Who needs that?

I get it, though, it’s so easy to be negative about unpleasant experiences and circumstances. So satisfying to complain – like picking at a scab (and it has about as much real value). A constant stream of negativity and complaining isn’t pleasant to be around, though, and it may result in the loss of relationships or connections with people who just don’t have the energy or will to endure it. Something to think about, eh? Certainly my own relationships have improved greatly since I gave up chronic complaining as a “feature” of my character. I still make an occasional complaint or negative observation; I’m very human. I don’t live my life in that place, emotionally, though. Complaining rarely improves anything; it is action that creates change. I get more done by embracing change, taking action to make my life what I most want to live, and by seeking out joy. It takes far fewer harsh words and frankly just feels better as an experience. I didn’t change the world; I changed the way I experience it. Worth it.

Walk on. It’s not personal.

I smile to myself. I’m having my own experience. It’s a lovely morning. I get to my feet and back on the trail. It’s a good day to begin again.

My head aches. I woke with it. I allow myself the luxury of assuming the national news coming out of Washington DC is more of the same terrifying crazy destructive billionaire greed-driven bullshit that will cost millions of good people of modest means their livelihoods, or possibly their lives. I don’t bother looking at it. I sigh quietly and look to my mental health and survival.

There are verbs involved. Seedlings to thin. Weeds to pull. Practices to practice.

I think about my garden. I’ve got plans to add another raised bed, and to put in the effort and care necessary to produce a significant amount of our food. It may ultimately be actually necessary. I’m expecting imported produce to become ridiculously costly very soon. I remind myself to consider joining a local farm co-op, too. I’m fortunate to live in an agricultural area, and there are multiple options. I’d keep a couple chickens if I had room to do so, but I don’t. I’ve kept chickens (and once a turkey), best eggs I’ve ever had. It would be worth the effort if I had the space.

I think about time spent in the kitchen, and how rewarding home baked bread and cookies and snack cakes are. Time consuming, too, and I’m often so tired that it’s hard to imagine doing even more, but it may simply be necessary.

Simple pleasures, lasting memories.

Go fewer places, spend less money, read more books, and enjoy simple pleasures; I feel fortunate that these are options that are both effective and (for me) pleasant. I sit with my thoughts about sufficiency and sustainability, and the many survival crafts I learned at home. I’ve got a new appreciation for the things my parents taught me as a kid about getting by in hard times.

Repair, re-use, recycle… getting more out of less may become something urgently necessary for a lot more people, just to get by. I sigh over my coffee – a luxury I may see myself giving up, depending on how tariffs hit coffee imports.

Quite a lot has gone into getting from “there” to “here”. 🙂

Are you worried too? Probably a good idea that we (as a nation) stop voting grifters, criminals, cheats, and unqualified nitwits into office, you know? This isn’t a partisan concern. It’s an ethical concern. It’s a matter of character, the character of our nation. People out for their own interests and focused on personal gain exist in every party. You can choose differently. That’s not really what I’m focused on this morning. I’m not telling you what to do with your vote or your voice. I’m just thinking about getting through this crap for at least the next four years, supporting my family, enjoying life with my Traveling Partner, tending a productive beautiful garden, and reading more books – especially any books that people in power think I ought not read. lol Buy books while you can (yes, it could get that bad, though I hope very much that it doesn’t).

Read banned books. Read controversial books. Think critically.

I sip my coffee, really tasting it. I think gratefully about the next hot shower I take, and consider putting in the effort to make a batch of shower fizzies, and wonder if I put the ingredients in storage, or just tucked them into a corner somewhere? I think about baking bread this weekend, and making jam this summer. I don’t really like to work so hard, not gonna lie, but I do like to live well.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I meditate awhile listening to the robins cheerily greeting the new day. The sun is rising. It’s time to choose a path and walk it. It’s time to begin again, and the clock is ticking.

One step at a time, eyes on the horizon.

It’s already afternoon. The busy start to a work day of catching up became a busy morning of meetings and follow-ups, which has become afternoon, and nearing the end of the work day. I pull my head out of my… email… and sit up. Breathe. Exhale. Relax. Drink some icy cold water, some sparkling hipster brand that is more scented than flavored, but it’s cold, and it’s potable, and I was thirsty. It’s good enough.

The sun streams through the office window as if mocking my plans to paint for a few days and ending up “rained out” over and over again. The plan is not the reality. The map is not the world. The intention is not the outcome. Perspective. I enjoyed the time on my own terms, and saw some beautiful places and got the real break “from the the world” that I needed so badly. I even got out into my garden, planted some lavender with hopes of seeing more roses bloom (I’ve heard the deer definitely do not care for the strong scent of the lavender and it is rumored to keep them away). Even if that doesn’t work out, I’ll have the lavender, which I greatly enjoy for it’s own qualities.

I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.

I breathe, exhale, relax, and take this short break, looking out the window into the sunshine. I’m smiling. No hard feelings; reality does not care about my plans, my intentions, or my maps. It simply is. I’m okay with it. I take my break with intention, enjoying this moment before I get back to work. I’m not a fucking machine, and there is no reason to behave as though I am, or treat myself as though I should be. I’m a human being, being human. I smile to myself, and think of my Traveling Partner. It’ll be nice to be home again, at the end of the day, to see him and feel his love, to share my thoughts about the garden, to hear his thoughts about what he’s doing in the shop. I rummage in my handbag for a snack bar left behind after my days wandering new trails. I forgot to bring anything for lunch. I began the day completely unprepared for work, but also no longer prepared to be out on the trail somewhere. lol It’s fine. I’m enjoying the day, and that’s enough.

It’s easy to be swept away.

I sigh to myself and drink my water. I take my afternoon pain medication; I’m sore all over from a week of trail walking, but I saw so many beautful places! Worth it. I think about a waterfall and a flowing river, an interesting metaphor for life, lived. It’s time to begin again, isn’t it? The river isn’t going to stop flowing…

It’s a metaphor…