Archives for posts with tag: go outside

As I struggle with fatigue and distraction this morning, I think about how very many human skills and abilities are “use it or lose it”. Walking, reasoning, speaking another language, legible handwriting, cooking a recipe from memory, recalling the route to a place that isn’t visited often: all of these, and many more besides, are the kind of thing that diminish over time without continued practice. We become what we practice, and so conversely, we can expect to be far less of whatever we don’t practice. It makes logical sense, thinking about it, and more importantly experience has proved it to me directly over and over again.

How about a really simple example? I learned French from my mother as a child, Czech in military language school, and German living in Germany for more than six years. I can’t honestly claim that I actually speak any of those languages now with any fluency, at all. I don’t use them enough, and the skill has largely faded away to little more than comfortable familiarity. (Whether immersion would or would not “bring it all back” is a separate question.)

Not enough? How about this one? I write. I write something like 1500-5000 words each day, between personal and professional writing. I used to do that in pen and ink. My handwriting was very specifically my own, easily recognizable, with characteristic flourishes and embellishments developed through frequent loving practice. It was legible and at times visually “beautiful” (to me). I rarely write with a pen on paper anymore. It’s nearly all on a device or keyboard. When I do have occasion to pick up a pen to write, if only to jot down a note, my handwriting is degraded, messy, chaotic, and often completely illegible to anyone else. I don’t write by hand enough to preserve my skill.

Another deeply worrisome example is that of my late Dear Friend, whose weight and health slowly robbed her of her ability to walk, as she aged. When we met, in the mid 90’s, we would go places together as we got to know each other. We walked a lot. We camped. We attended fairs together. An injury some years later put her off her feet for awhile, and after that walking began to become more difficult. The less time she spent on her feet and walking, the more difficult it became, until it was an effort to get from her kitchen to her bedroom. Eventually, any walking at all required assistance of some kind.

Now I’ll tell you that what this is really about is all the many cognitive skills we all so carelessly put at risk every day, now, through excessive reliance on tech devices of various kinds, and… “AI”. We are very much at risk of losing our abilities to think clearly, to remember our experiences, and to socialize harmoniously in accordance with healthy behavior and within agreed upon social norms. I’d like to say maybe I’m exaggerating a bit to make a point, but that wouldn’t be true to my day-to-day experience or observation over time. I see it happening, and I’m clearly not alone; it is a common topic in the essays and thought pieces of others (many with greater relevant expertise). I think it’s something worth taking seriously.

I sigh quietly, as I stop at my halfway point on this trail. It’s still dark, and the autumn fog is thick and getting thicker. It seems a suitable metaphor for humanity allowing itself to become dumber…by choice. What a bummer of an idea. Don’t do it! Preserve your precious abilities! Practice critical thinking skills! Read an actual fucking book. Read several! Learn a new skill. (No, not how to draft a better ChatGPT prompt, that’s not as useful as you may be imagining.) Make something! Have real conversations with live human beings in real life. Walk. Daydream. Use your mind to think deeper thoughts. We become what we practice. For fucks’ sake don’t give up your mind.

…A lot of the world’s petty cruelty and actual evil only thrive because we allow it, or have become distracted. We could do better and choose differently. Don’t let your precious finite lifetime trickle away, the sand in your hourglass slowly running out while you doom scroll through AI slop you don’t even care about (or remember five minutes later). Don’t let an LLM stand in for your own capacity to think, to reason, and to understand. (Trust me, you’re better at all those things than any “AI”!)

I take time to meditate and reflect, as the first hints of daybreak begin to color the sky. I breathe, exhale, and relax. The morning is a chilly one. I’m grateful for the warm sweater I chose, and the warmth of my pockets, into which I jam my hands between paragraphs, to warm them again. We have choices. I think about mine and watch dawn becoming a new day. Later I’ll take the truck over to the dealership for a bit of work, and begin my work day there, in the waiting lobby of the service department. After that? I’ll begin again, again, and I’ll keep choosing, and practicing.

I walked through the early morning darkness alone with my thoughts. It’s a chilly autumn morning, and I’m glad I wore a heavy sweater. I am thinking about a recent demonstration that I found to illustrate a lasting concern I’ve had for awhile now. I’m not alone with this, a lot of people are concerned, though little is likely to be done.

…No, I don’t mean the wildly popular, well-attended, nationwide No Kings demonstrations over the weekend. Powerfully illustrative, no doubt, but not the thing on my mind. This other is… bigger. Deeper. Impacts more of the global society of humanity, and may be a warning of worse to come – things we’re not prepared for.

From Downdetector, around midmorning Pacific time.

I’m thinking about the AWS outage, yesterday. So many people and businesses now store data on, use services hosted by, or route traffic through AWS that the outage (which lasted many hours and disrupted many businesses and financial institutions) ground business to a halt in many places. A broad variety of services stopped operating. Companies whose support teams use browser-based digital communication tools suddenly couldn’t support the customer inquiries that were queuing up. Teams and individuals couldn’t get work done. Frustrated consumers unaware that this or that business now exclusively uses AWS for hosting and data storage became unable to function in the 21st century world of online everything.

Pretty wild that in such circumstances people so easily find themselves halted. Really? Do something else. Something real. Read a book. Go for a walk. Get some chores done. Leave the chaos to the engineers and devs who got this hot potato dropped into their laps in the wee hours, and get on with your actual life, damn. “Shit’s down, bitches! Let’s go outside.”

I laugh now, but I’m also concerned. Don’t we all have more to do in the real spaces of the actual physical world than anything online? Aren’t the precious few mortal moments we have in these finite lives worth more attention from us? Do we really “need” an online app to meditate? To read? To enjoy a coffee with a friend? To walk a lovely trail on an autumn morning? We are, perhaps, overly dependent on digital bullshit.

Before dawn, darkness and distant light.

I walked with my thoughts, and took a seat in the darkness, shortly before daybreak, to write and meditate. Nice morning. I’m not so exhausted, today. I definitely needed some rest, and it was a good choice to go to bed early last night. I woke ahead of my alarm this morning to the soft sound of my Traveling Partner calling out to me, “Baby?”, as if checking whether I was awake, or trying to get my attention. The house was dark and quiet and there was no sign my beloved was actually awake, at all. Probably just an “exploding head” sort of dream, although of a very gentle sort. Not uncommon, for me. These no longer cause me any stress; it’s just a dream.

Being awake, I got up and started the day, and here I am.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. Life. The autumn air is chilly and fresh. There is a mist clinging to the ground in the low places. The world is quiet, at least right here. Right here, now, I am indifferent to whether any given tech platform or app works, and I don’t much care about the clown show of American politics. I’m just a woman on a trail, on an autumn morning before sunrise. It is an experience that needs no app, and no connectivity. Fine by me. 😂

… What would you do if it all crashed, and didn’t come back? If you lost the Internet, could you still reach the people who truly matter to you? Would you get enough information about the goings on in your world to get by and live well? Would you be able to continue to do the job you do now, or would it suddenly be of no use or consequence at all? Would you easily entertain yourself with conversation, books on paper, jam sessions with neighbors, and impromptu block parties, or would you find yourself stalled, bored, and unable to function? Are you wholly dependent on a tech toy that became a tool, and is now a crutch? Who are you without your digital profile?

I sit here feeling okay, myself. My Dad didn’t have much trust in computer systems, software, and “helpful” technology. He taught us to fish, to hunt, to garden, to raise small livestock and make use of the resulting resources. He handed down recipes, and skills. He taught us a lot of useful things, long before the Internet was a convenience or a concern. I’m grateful. The Army taught me more. Life taught me still more after that. I mostly don’t care when or whether the Internet or some particular app or platform is down. I’ve got books. 😂

A frown passes over my face with a chill breeze. Life would be hard without shelter. Without power, heat, and potable water… disasters come in a lot of sizes. It could have been worse than an AWS outage, for sure. I think about Gaza, and Ukraine. It could be so much worse. Genocide. Warfare. Bombs. Earthquakes. Disease outbreaks. Disaster can strike anywhere, and takes many forms. Am I prepared? Are you?

I sigh to myself. Human primates make so much shit more complicated than it has to be… mostly over greed, or seeking power. Gross. Do better, humanity, your survival probably depends on it.

Daybreak comes, and I get to my feet. It’s time to begin again. I’ve got this trail ahead of me, and a destination in mind. All that remains is to begin.

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…

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).

The days are definitely getting shorter. I see it in the mornings when I arrive at the trailhead. I’m no longer missing the sunrise. This morning’s sky is a pale pastel blue hue, streaked with a delicate pink. Lovely.

I walk down the trail, listening to the sound of my footsteps crunching along the gravel trail. It is a useful distraction from my tinnitus, which is quite loud, a piercing shrill whine in the background of, well, of everything, every moment.

Voices at a favorite stopping point; I walk on.

I’ve got a bit of shopping this morning, and it’s time to stop by the storage unit to grab my camping gear and load it in the car, for tomorrow’s departure. Doesn’t really feel like work at all, though there is effort involved. The camp fridge is already plugged in at the house, getting cold. I’m looking forward to this camping trip. The shorter days are not discouraging me, and the cot I picked up on sale before the last trip proved its worth. I expect to sleep pretty comfortably.

I finally get to a pleasant spot to stop that feels solitary, though I suspect it is an illusion to do with timing, more than anything else. There were quite a few cars parked at the trailhead this morning.

…We are rarely ever truly alone, and “privacy” is a concept quickly being lost in our “always on” digital age. I find this vexing; I enjoy solitude…

I sigh quietly to myself and let all that go. I sit with my thoughts awhile, enjoying the sunrise, though it’s nothing fancy or super colorful this morning, I’m simply grateful to see another one. Definitely something I find worthy of appreciation, life itself. It hasn’t been reliably kind to me over the course of this one mortal lifetime, and I sometimes think I’m very lucky indeed to have made it this far, at all. I’m glad I stuck it out and worked through a lot of my bullshit and baggage, instead of checking out in some moment of despair. It’s been a worthwhile journey, and I’ve got much to be grateful for.

I sit listening to the faint sound of traffic on the highway adjacent to the meadow on the other side of the trees that surround me. I watch a curious chipmunk creeping closer to me, one little darting step at a time. I’m disappointed that I have no seeds or nuts with me, though I know it’s a bad practice to feed wild creatures, I am always tempted. The chipmunk comes all the way to the edge of my boot. We make eye contact, and she darts away quickly in a single jump followed by scurrying steps, and disappears into the weeds.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I’ve got a list of chores to get done before I leave for a few days of luxurious solitude in the trees. Mostly routine stuff I’d be doing on any weekend, just compressed into one day, with some add-ons intended to provide for my Traveling Partner’s comfort while I am away. I smile, taking note of how much less work that is; he’s come a long way since his surgery.

Well hell, this walk isn’t going to finish itself, and I’ve got this list. The clock is ticking onward (always). I guess it’s time to begin again.