Archives for posts with tag: Gnothi seauton

I’m sipping my coffee on a routine (for most values of “routine”) Monday. I consider checking the news feed for whatever might be genuinely newsworthy, but decide against it; I don’t feel like wading through the bullshit sponsored content, partisan lies and ill-intentioned spin, and clickbait intended to grab my attention while some unknown other grabs my data. None of that shit rises to the level of “news”, and I definitely don’t need to be told (again) that billionaires are self-serving, or that “the government” is corrupt.

There’s a “heat warning” for this area, over the next day or two. This is a type of weather warning that did not exist when I was a kid. This kind of heat, in a lot of places around the country (and the world) did not exist when I was a kid. For me, personally, this defines “climate change” – the heat. Hotter summer days and more of them, in an area that once laughed about summer’s lack of warmth in “June-uary” and enjoyed fairly frequent drenching rain, even in summertime; there’s a lot less laughter about that, now, and a lot less summer rain.

I’m finding the outcomes of the terrible (and cruel) decision-making of the current US administration pretty disheartening, and thoroughly objectionable. From refusing to regulate AI or protect creator IP, from censorships to tariffs, this government is succeeding… in bringing about a new dark age. What to do about that, though? I sip my coffee and think about how to bring the light of the world to the dark future unfolding right now… I probably sound overly dramatic. Still, here we all are, eh? So…what to do? I have some thoughts…

  1. Read (and buy) actual bound books written exclusively by human authors. Talk about them.
  2. Consume content (while the internet is still available at all) created by human creators. Share that.
  3. Enjoy, support, and buy real (original) art created by living human artists – and buy it, where you can, directly from the artist(s).
  4. Learn practical skills and buy the tools required to do the things. Especially skills that don’t rely entirely on electricity, internet connectivity, and the existence of the power grid – people with useful skills always have a place within their community. Learn to make things.
  5. Be curious and seek information (ideally from vetted sources with reliably recognized expertise).
  6. If you have land (even enough for a small garden, or containers on a patio) grow food – particularly heirloom varieties unburdened by patents, or reproductive restrictions.
  7. Connect with other real human beings in IRL places as frequently as you can – and have real conversations about real world concerns and circumstances, and current events and find common ground together. Yes, even with strangers.
  8. Practice good self-care – for yourself – and practice kindness and compassion – for the rest of the world.
  9. Spend your limited financial resources in your local community on goods and services made by local people, wherever/whenever you are able (or can afford) to do so.
  10. Explicitly communicate your expectations, your “wishlist”, and your “demands” or dissatisfaction to your elected representatives – even if they are not of your party or don’t share your beliefs. Do it often.
  11. Lift each other up. (There are already more than too many people and agencies out there in the world tearing people down.)

Don’t let your voice be silenced. Consider your options, and do your best to make choices that will tend to create the world you wish to see. Don’t let your fears or insecurities, or your petty biases or hostility to this or that cause or belief system cause you to become a monster that you can’t face in the mirror each morning (or, you know, don’t become a monster at all). Choose, each day, to be the person you most want to be, regardless of how vile and terrible the world around you seems to be becoming. Who you are is about you, not them. Do you – for you.

I guess the tl;dr is… don’t just bitch about the shit going on around you, make choices that are different than that, and speak truth to power. (I say that like it’s easy – it is not; it requires constant effort and practice.)

I breathe, exhale, and relax. The landscapers are already mowing this morning, likely due to the extreme heat expected later. If ICE showed up right now and started hassling those landscapers… would I take any action? Would you? It’s a worthwhile thought exercise. You should probably know what your values really are, there. What would you want of bystanders if ICE came for you? (Because, you know, at some point they may – we’re living in dark times.)

Where do you really stand in this new dark age? Here’s a test of your values and ethics that you may find interesting… a simple thought exercise. If you were offered a job (just a salaried job, no guarantees for continued employment) for millions of dollars in annual salary, with the explicit understanding that the results of your work would be directly responsible for putting thousands of people in poverty, reducing the quality of life of many millions of others, and likely result in a notable number of actual deaths…but you would be lifted out of poverty (for as long as you held that job) and live in comfort with your family, debt free with the world’s goods at your fingertips – would you take that job? I don’t need to know your answer – but you do. Are you one of the good guys, or just another self-serving asshole prepared to destroy the world so you can have a [fucking yacht, or Lamborghini, or whatever your symbol of fantastic wealth happens to be]? It’s an important question, and whether you answer it in words or not, the consequences of your actions and choices will tell the world what your values really are.

Yeesh. So grim and grounded this morning. lol I sip my coffee grateful to have a moment of time to explore thought exercises, and questions of ethics and values. The whole picture of my own adult life has not been characterized by wise ethical decision-making, or consistently living my values well. It’s been a very human journey, and when I set off down this path I not only didn’t know where it was leading me, I didn’t have a clear understanding of who is this “woman I most want to be”, in the first place. I suffered from a lack of honest self-reflection, and a lack of useful questions to light my way. Sometimes I still find myself “wandering in the dark” – and there are certainly those among us who would greatly prefer that we all “wander in the dark” without finding a sense of ourselves or understanding what we value, and what we want to see in the world. It is sometimes possible to vanquish those monsters simply by shining a light on the path.

I finish my coffee hoping to succeed in being my best self today. I’m grateful to have the opportunity to do my best on another day. It’s time to begin again…

I got my walk in this morning, around the neighborhood where the office is located. It’s a pretty middleclass neighborhood, with few sidewalks and lots of lovely landscaping. The summer air was still and smelled of flowers, exotic and vaguely tropical. Very summery. The sun was up and the morning beginning to hint at the heat of the day to come by the time I got back to the office.

…The entire time I was walking, I had a favorite “big beat” track in my head, Fatboy Slim’s “Weapon of Choice“…

It was less about the music, this morning, than the words. I kept turning the phrase over in my head, “weapon of choice”… I’d always heard that as meaning “preferred choice of weapon”. This morning it hit me that it also means… choice, as a weapon (or tool). Huh. Words are fun.

We have a ton of choices in life. The menu of the Strange Diner is – in a practical sense – almost unlimited. (Limits we observe are often self-imposed.) Choice is an important tool in our toolbox, whoever we are, regardless of our circumstances. Volumes are written about choice and choosing and how to make choices. What are you choosing? Are your choices taking you where you want to go? Do they make you more the person you most want to be? Are you trapping yourself with foolish choices? Do the choices you choose to make tend to make the world a better place, generally, or… not? I don’t need the answers to these questions (from you) – but maybe you do? (I know what my own answers are, and I ask myself these questions often.)

…Are you even making your own choices, yourself, or are you following some talking head on the internet, or an app, or an “AI”? Are you aware that it matters?…

I sip my coffee thoughtfully. I think my thoughts, grateful for another day to make choices and to practice practices. Grateful that I was finally able to get my Ozempic refilled, and my “sense of things” feels quite ordinary once again; I’ve clearly grown used to the changes it makes in my headspace (the increased impulse control demonstrably extends even to my ability to manage my temper, as it turns out). I breathe, exhale, and relax, feeling filled with contentment and a certain feeling of internal comfort that only seems to come from feeling very “at home in my own skin”. No anxiety, and for the moment no physical pain (which is a pleasant change). No headache. No allergies. Just a pleasant summer morning and a good cup of iced coffee, and this lovely quiet moment that is all mine.

…I am momentarily distracted by the awareness that a lot of my life is captured in words: emails, fragments of unfinished manuscripts, a rare bit of surviving journaling here or there, letters written in the days of snail mail as the only option, and this blog. I find myself wondering if I should be giving thought to preserving any portion of that (the internet may not actually be “forever”, considering current world events, generally)…

I sigh to myself, and my thoughts move on. Who am I? Who was I “then“? What relationship does she have to me, now? Memory is a thin thread that connects our past selves with our present self, and a bit unreliable at times. Does it even matter? Strange thoughts on an ordinary summer workday morning. There’s value in self-reflection, though, and asking the worthy questions is worthwhile whether I answer them or not. They demonstrate thoughtful curiosity and a regard for the unknown. They light the path ahead in some way I can’t easily describe or explain. They hint at what I don’t know, even about myself. Hell, sometimes they stave off the existential dread and doubt that sometimes accompanies awareness of how precious and limited this mortal lifetime is. I hear that metaphorical clock ticking.

The weekend is coming. What will I do with it? I’ve got a camping trip planned for a couple weeks from now. What will I do with that? I’ve got choices. So do you. What will you choose?

Every choice is a new beginning – even if you choose to stand still and do nothing.

One day I will not wake to begin again… It’s how mortality works. There is much to savor in each waking moment, and less to struggle with than I sometimes choose.

I’m sipping my coffee in that pleasant space between finishing the budgeting for this pay period and digging into the work of the day. There’s a cloudy sky beyond the window of the office, and the morning termperatures are cooler than they have been – of course; I’ve got a camping trip planned, so obviously the weather will turn chilly and possibly rainy. LOL

A moment of celebration, love, and delight; delicious, and worth savoring.

I smile every time I think about my birthday. What a lovely day, and in every regard thoroughly satisfying. Oh sure, more money/youthful energy/time perhaps it could have been more elaborate in some way, or involved other activities, but frankly the day’s simplicity and very high “chill factor” made for a completely delightful experience that met my needs. I feel loved and appreciated and celebrated. It’s a pleasant feeling, and I sit with the recollections, savoring them and sipping my coffee. 62, eh? So far, so good. I certainly feel more prepared to handle adult life and challenges than I did at 21. Or… 30, 40, 45, 50… I am, as they say, “a work in progress”. The profound value of incremental change over time is that it is a reliable path forward toward other (better?) things. I am more the woman I most want to be than I was in any prior year, and I keep making progress as a human being, learning and growing – and practicing.

I’ve learned some things over time, and I’ll share them (though I suspect we’ve all got to learn things our own way, and walk our own hard mile, regardless how much wisdom or knowledge may be available at our fingertips). I’ve learned that:

  • there is no rational justification for genocide, ever.
  • governments wage war because war is profitable.
  • human beings will persist in confusing anecdotes with data and can be easily mislead.
  • some people prefer to bitch about crap they could easily change rather than do the work to change it.
  • it is possible to find joy amidst chaos and tragedy.
  • change is, and although it can’t be prevented or avoided, it can be embraced and guided.
  • terrible hateful people walk among us, and they look like everyone else.
  • it’s very hard to be angry and grateful at the same time.
  • we can each choose our own path.
  • there’s always more work to do, and it is important to take breaks, and rest.
  • no one “makes it” on their own.
  • we can choose what we fill our thoughts with.
  • character and ethics matter, a lot.
  • if your only argument is name-calling or personal attacks, you have lost that argument (whether you accept that or not).
  • when “choosing sides” it is important to be clear about what the side you choose actually stands for.
  • critical thinking takes more work than most people are willing to do.
  • most of the things in life we stress out over aren’t actually worth that amount of emotional energy.
  • sometimes the “easiest” path requires the most work.
  • we become what we practice.

It’s not much. Certainly I’ve learned more, other, things – or – maybe I haven’t? Sometimes some lesson I thought I’d learned comes back to bite me because I had not truly put what I thought I learned into practice, reliably. Words are easy. Deeds…? That gets more complicated, doesn’t it? I feel my smile take a somewhat cynical twist, and sip my coffee. Life is a strange journey without a map, toward a destination we don’t necessarily choose with our eyes open (or recognize when we approach it). It’s a bit like seeing a funhouse mirror suddenly snap into a very clear focused reflection when I find myself very clear on some detail that had previously eluded me. My results often vary, and there are so many verbs involved…

The site I reserved for my upcoming camping trip, from the perspective of a moment in time 10 years ago.

It hits me in a moment what I really want out of my camping trip next week; time with my thoughts. I don’t really feel inspired to paint (yet), or even to take photographs (though I know I will). I want quiet solitary time with my thoughts, and a pen and some paper. lol Very low-tech, no fancy techniques, tools, or apps required; I want to walk trails, and watch clouds, and meditate. I want to breathe the Spring-becoming-Summer air, and take a closer look at the moss, the lichen, and the wildflowers. I want to sit quietly watching a braver than average small creature approaching me slowly with curiosity. I want to feel the weight of the world lifted from my shoulders because for a little while it will have nothing whatsoever to do with me. I want to “give my soul a rest” from the chaos of the world. I want to miss my Traveling Partner, because through missing him I discover again how deeply immersed in this love I really am. I want to unplug from the rest of the world and reconnect with my own deepest inner self. I sip my coffee and laugh to myself – seems clear enough. Now I’ve just got to do the verbs. lol

The clock ticks on. 62 now, and for the next 364 days to come. I hope I make good use of my time. I hope I live well and wisely, and love deeply. It’s time to get started on another year of living. It’s time to begin again.

I am reflecting on my “sense of self”, which I suppose is taking “self-reflection” to a very meta place. Definingly self-referential, and a bit like a funhouse mirror; I am lost in reflections and contemplating self-portraits I have done over time, most of them quite abstract. A friend – one of my dearest friends and among my most enduring friendships – reached out and asked to commission from me a self-portrait. An interesting commission, and I accepted it. I don’t know where this path will lead. Perhaps I am overdue to look at myself (and my life) through the lens of my own camera, my hand holding the brush poised over my own canvas? I am standing in a new place, seeing the world and my life through different perspective in a unique moment. I am at my most experienced, my most learned, my most positive – and my most fortunate. I am infused with love and a joy for living. This is not a place I’ve stood life for very long, ever, and here I stand – content and comfortable with myself. So. There it is.

The sky is still blue.

I sip my coffee and think thoughts of self. Who am I, now? Where is this path leading me? Who do I most want to be? How did I get here? I breathe, exhale, and relax. I think about colors, and I think about sunrises, sunsets, and the ticking of the clock. I think about my garden, and this sunny morning; I’ve planted seeds. What flowers will bloom, now? The morning sky is a delicate azure blue, again this morning. Same view, new day – new moment to be this human being. I think my thoughts awhile longer. There’s only so much time for that, and I enjoy it while it lasts. The clock is always ticking.

I’m sitting at the trailhead, waiting for the sun. There’s an owl somewhere very close,   and I listen to it’s calls in the pre-dawn darkness. The sky is clear and starry, with a pale small crescent moon visible. A breeze stirs the tops of the tallest meadow grasses, but it’s not enough to move the trees on the horizon in any way I can see from here. I sit quietly with my thoughts. Waiting is. I’ve become rather good at it over a lifetime.

I am thinking about time and timing and wondering how best to make time for art and for painting in such a busy period in my life… I definitely need to figure it out. I was severely grumpy yesterday evening, and only partly because I was uncomfortable from pain and annoyed by the challenges of eustachian tube dysfunction and the possible loss of perceived hearing on one side. I was also grumpy because…

I very much want to be painting. I’m itching to pick up the pastels again and feeling inspired, daily… and I can’t seem to find even a few minutes of this precious limited mortal lifetime to call my own (besides these quiet minutes in the early morning, already spent on needed self-care). I’m not bitching that there are things to be done and that I must do them. It’s more that I am irritated that the days feel so short. By the time all the things that simply must get done have been done, I am too tired for anything more than a shower and an early bedtime.

… I could do a better job of setting my priorities perhaps, or explicitly asking for help from the Anxious Adventurer…

… It’s fine. It’s temporary. I’m carrying the load for two people in so many ways right now. It’s important to note how much I really am getting done. How well I am managing it. But…yeah… I’m letting myself down in this one important way, and struggling to resolve that sometimes has me feeling really cross and also pretty fucking invisible. No one else seems to notice anything “wrong”, so long as the dishes are done, the laundry is kept caught up, and all the errands are run.

I sigh quietly with frustration, then silently acknowledge that I subtly sabotage myself on this one by enduring conditions silently (most of the time) without speaking up about my needs. Would it even matter? Oh fuck yes, it would. It does. I know this because yesterday evening I did speak up – and did it without yelling or tears or any sort of tantrum. I just said I really want to make time to paint and that I was struggling to do that because there always seems to be more expected or needed from me. My Traveling Partner made eye contact with me, looked thoughtful, and made it clear he really heard me. He suggested he might already be up to short trips out of the house, if not now, then soon..? He asked me what I need. I replied that I don’t need him to be gone. I do want to be able to set things aside and focus on art for a little while is all. He gently assured me that if I make it clear I am taking time to paint or draw or work creatively, he would not make demands on my time until I was finished. Wow. I feel heard and supported. It feels really good. And…

…Well, shit… That does leave it up to me to manage my time, set and manage expectations about what I am doing, and to follow through with and for myself. It puts my agency in my own hands… which means the choice is mine. (Maybe it has been all along?) So… Okay. Maybe tonight? After work. After dinner. I feel excited and eager. Hopeful. A little bit timid. Do I have the strength of will to choose myself over the dishes now and then? I sit in the morning darkness thinking about will and freedom and choices and responsibility. I think about agency. I think about love. It’s a nice morning for thoughts and for self-care.

… It’s important to recognize whether circumstances are holding me back… or I am. I sit with that thought until daybreak.

Here it comes, a whole new day.

It is a new day. I can choose differently. I can do more to take care of myself, and enjoy my life. I can make choices that allow me to thrive vs merely surviving while supporting hearth and home. I can invest some of my time in more of the things that matter most to me. When I get the balance wrong (and I will), I can begin again. Like today.

I smile and think about my Traveling Partner, and how much he clearly loves me. I lace up my boots, and grab my cane. It’s time to walk a mile or two and watch another sunrise. It’s time to begin, again.