Archives for posts with tag: greed is not a good look

I managed to sleep a little later this morning. I arrived at the trailhead at daybreak, a smudgy dirty looking faint orange streak along the horizon hints at sunrise coming soon. No point waiting. I trade shoes for boots, and grab my cane and my headlamp and step onto the trail.

The shallow bowl of the marshy meadow lowlands is filled with a dense mist. When I reach it, the mist envelopes me. Peculiarly, the mist is only about 4 feet deep, and I can’t see the ground I am walking in any detail. My headlamp is worse than useless, and I turn it off, letting it hang from my neck like some sort of awkward ornament. I keep walking, watching the sky lighten, listening to the quiet sounds of the meadow and marsh around me. I hear traffic on the nearby highway. The Tualatin river flows through here, forming one boundary of the park. I don’t hear it flowing by, deep and murky. The air is still and a bit chilly. I’m grateful to be wearing my fleece this morning.

I eventually reach my halfway point and stop for a bit, to meditate and write and reflect on life and the world.

Halfway on a misty morning.

I sit thinking about freedom. I’m not sure why it’s on my mind. Perhaps because, for the first time in my own lifetime, the United States is being lead by someone who appears to think freedom of speech is somehow defined by what he wants to hear, personally. So much to find distasteful and disturbing by the very idea. It’s a good time to buy books on subjects this administration finds objectionable – and to read them – we are realistically at risk of seeing them pulled from bookstores and libraries “for our own good”, “for the children”, or because they have been deemed unacceptable for some reason, by some narrow special interest group. I’m not kidding. No exaggeration, I am deeply concerned about our intellectual freedom.

…When the cold war ended, I felt so hopeful about the world…

I’d love to see truth become more popular. I dislike the media hype machine, and the pursuit of likes, clicks, and views produces some awful results, not the least of which is poor quality writing and reporting that may lack any factual basis. Maybe the move to undermine free speech will result in legislation that requires truth in reporting? That would be hilarious – and might serve us well, in the long run.

I sigh quietly by myself watching the mist spread slowly, obscuring the view. I reflect on the mist as a metaphor, dense, obscuring my view, hiding obstacles on my path, clammy and chilly and clinging to me as I move through it, but lacking real substance, and incapable of impeding my movement. It has no power that I don’t give it. That’s important to understand.

I’m just saying, read the books you see being restricted, withheld from libraries and institutions, or hear those in power seeking to dismiss or “cancel”. Those books wouldn’t be a big deal, if they didn’t say something worth hearing.

“Woke” isn’t an insult. It’s a term used to indicate that a person recognizes institutional and systemic injustices, most commonly those with a racial basis, but also gender (misogyny is still a real problem), and disability. Commandeering the term to use as an insult dilutes and undermines its value – but only if we allow that.

“DEI”… When did we decide that being a melting pot of cultures and ideas is a bad thing? That’s diversity. Can you explain how “equity” is a problem? Don’t you, yourself, want equitable treatment in the workplace, and in the world? “Inclusion” seems an unlikely villain – do you not want your children to be included by their peers, in games, in events, in life? Where is the problem?

“Woke” people, seeing the injustices and inequity in our institutions and systems of power and governance, moved to make changes – and DEI as a movement was born. The greatest impact was likely felt in the workplace, initially. Codes of conduct changed to be more fair, more focused on consistent and equitable treatment in hiring. People who had been prevented from advancing, in spite of their qualifications, began to get ahead in life. These changes for the better began to spread. Life began to get better for so many people!

… We’ve lost momentum because a handful of vocal shitheads are mad that they can no longer rest on their privilege (whether that’s to do with being male, white, Christian, affluent, or connected is irrelevant), and now have to put in a bit more work to get ahead. Now, here we are…

How are those “guaranteed” freedoms working out for you?

I sigh to myself. Human primates can be so g’damned stupid – and greedy. That’s likely what most of this is actually about. Greed – and power. So gross. The worst.

A rose blooming in my garden.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I let all of the bitterness and disappointment go. I can only do so much. I speak my mind fearlessly. I vote. I served my country ethically and with honor (at least as I understood it at that time).

…I remind myself to reach out to former comrades at arms, some of them are no doubt struggling with this bullshit much as I am, and there is solace in sharing and a feeling of safe haven in community…

The sunrise has come and it is a new day filled with promise. I’m hoping to spend it enjoying my Traveling Partner’s good company. It was a very busy week at work, and he has missed me. I’m planning to try a new recipe, later, and maybe fit in some “me time” later this weekend. Long weekend – I’ve taken Monday off for the equinox. Maybe I’ll take my camera or my pastels up the Nestucca River Byway and enjoy some solitary creative time?

The meadow is still covered in mist, as though someone rolled out cotton batting over the whole thing. I smile to myself, grateful for the lovely moment of solitude and rest from the busy week behind me. Sunlight illuminates the tops of the oaks. It’s already time to begin again.

I sip my coffee quietly, head aching. Back aching. Sort of “waiting on the next moment”, in the morning stillness. No walk, no commute, this morning, there are ice storms in the weather forecast and my Traveling Partner asked me to work from home, rather than worry about my safety on the road. So far this morning, the temperature is unexceptional, there is no rain falling (freezing or otherwise), and it’s a dry and clear winter morning. I did sleep in, though, which was quite nice.

My beloved wakes, and asks me if I would make his coffee and some breakfast? I step away from my desk, unsurprised, and do so, feeling contented and loved. He seems to be in a decent mood, but I can tell he’s also in pain. I remind myself to be patient and kind as the day wears on. As I make his coffee, I am reminded that the dishes need doing (hard to avoid that reminder; they’re in the sink, and I dislike that so intensely it’s hard to put words to it), and also that I have a prescription to pick up at the pharmacy if the weather holds out. Later. Later. I make myself some oatmeal, and get back to my desk and let my just-woke-up partner finishing waking up while he enjoys his breakfast.

It’s an ordinary enough morning, for one built on exceptions to the routine. In spite of the pain I’m in, I’m in a good mood, and feel pretty well-rested. Funny how much difference good sleep can make, isn’t it? I breathe, exhale, and relax. I take my morning medication. I eat my oatmeal. Walnuts and dried fruit with a bit of ginger, this morning, and it’s pretty good. My coffee is excellent. Good beans. Careful pour over that I made myself. It is, of course, precisely the way I like it. lol Sometimes little satisfying rituals, like making a cup of coffee “just so”, can be so intensely soul-nourishing. Definitely a fond practice, for me, although too often I rush through things or grab whatever coffee is near at hand and call it good enough – it’s not at all the same experience as taking the time and care to do it skillfully, with intention. There’s something to be learned in such things. Will I ever learn it? I hope I at least keep practicing. lol

I sip my coffee, grateful to have it. I am grateful for this warm cozy home, and the sound of my Traveling Partner getting his morning started in the other room. I’m grateful for this work space, which my partner set up with me in mind, measuring things and getting the ergonomics just right for me so I would be most comfortable, even on long work days. I’m grateful for the convenience and warmth of “quick cooking” oatmeal, and a pantry stocked with nuts and dried fruits and things with which to prepare meals. I am fortunate. It’s worth a moment of gratitude, however ordinary these things may seem. Running water. Indoor plumbing. A gas fireplace. Carpets and rugs over well-maintained floors. Electric lighting. You too? Probably – for most of these things – they aren’t all that out of the ordinary for a family in a small suburban home in the United States. It’s not a lavish life of luxury, generally speaking, although I have some things other people may not have for themselves, there are also a great many things some people have that I go without. There’s a variety of human experiences. I’ve lived worse off than I do now. Some people are by far better off than I find myself. It’s not a race or a competition, and I’m content to simply find my joy in sufficiency, and appreciate what I’ve got, without striving aggressively for luxuries “within view” but beyond my means. This is not a time for that. (Is it ever? Greed is an ugly quality.) There’s no knowing what the future holds, so I enjoy this “now” with appreciation and gratitude.

I sip my coffee and think about “the future”. With so much chaos, destruction, and despair in the world (and in this country) right now, it’s something I worry over a bit. What does the future hold? How do we create a world in which everyone can thrive? The wealth of the world would provide for us all, if it were not held in the hands of a small few who do not make use of it, just pile it up and point to their pile and remind us all how very privileged they are, while others struggle and suffer (and often at the hands of those very wealthy hoarders of privilege). It’s not a good look. I keep expecting humanity to do better. (Don’t you?)

I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s time to start the day. Time to do my own best, moment to moment. It’s time to begin again.