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Something a Little Different

August 23, 2026 //
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I slept in this morning (for some values of sleeping in), beginning the morning in the usual way, otherwise. I woke with a plan and a measure of real excitement. My knee has been bothering me, and my Traveling Partner suggested I give it a rest, and skip my walk (cane or no cane, 1-3 miles on it is a lot of demand when it’s clearly recovering from injury). So…

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

…I planned a different sort of morning, one that took advantage of temporary injury for other sorts of fun, and I packed up my RC car and added to that my GMRS radio , and my bag of fun was waiting for me in the morning, as I left the house. I picked up a coffee on my way up to the location I had in mind, and entertained myself with learning the features of the radio, and monitoring local channels. There’s a lot to learn – and a lot of “lost knowledge” to regain. It’s fun.

A little later I drove to a nearby town that has an RC car racetrack thinking I’d check it out. I got as far as the parking lot. 😆 The closest parking was still going to require a bit of a walk, partly down a steepish slope, on a barked path. I decide to stick with giving my knee a break and head back to my previous location, which has a big spacious parking lot that is empty on a Sunday. I drive my RC car awhile, enjoying myself immensely, practicing useful skills that make driving the car more fun.

…Even things like basic steering take practice, which I recall being the case when I was learning to drive a full size car for the first time, too…

Painting? Maybe later. I’ve got pastel-ready cardstock coming, and pastel “pencils” (they aren’t really pencils, but crafted such that they are more suited to lines than to shading), but it may be a couple weeks before they arrive. I smile, feeling fortunate and wrapped in contentment. There’s housework to get done, too. I keep postponing properly finishing moving back into my studio and outfitting my wee library as a functional space for quiet reflection and meditation. I shrug it off and go on with racing my RC car back and forth the length of this huge open space, zipping between and around the planted islands and working to improve the precision of my turns.

A sprinkle of rain prompts me to take this break, and I sit happily writing, and monitoring a local repeater on my radio. My beloved and I are both dealing with pain this morning. I’m not rushing back (certainly not any time soon), though I enjoy his company. I’m enjoying the morning on my own terms, racing my RC car and getting refamiliarized with radio procedures. The static reminds me how I most likely came by much of my tinnitus, and I feel a strange, warm nostalgia for a long gone chapter of my life that was mostly pure hell – but I was also serving my country, and still proud to be doing so. Funny how complicated our emotions can be.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. The sprinkling has stopped. The pavement isn’t even damp. I probably could have kept driving, but didn’t want to risk damage to my car – it’s still new and I’m careful with it. I happily set the car onto the pavement again. I’ve got plenty of battery life left. I switch from my regular glasses to my shades to improve my distance vision as the brightness of the morning increases.

An older woman walking a dog and a child approaches and I bring the car back to me, stopping it at my feet (so I wouldn’t be tempting the dog to chase it. We exchange a greeting. She asks about the car as the kid squats down to get a better look. How hard are they to drive? Are they safe for kids? How much do they cost? Is there someplace local that has them? The kid has only two questions: how fast will it go and can they drive my car?

After a bit of conversation, and making certain the dog is well controlled, I run the car down the length of the parking lot at max speed and circle back, managing to drift beautifully on the turn (and totally fronting like that shit was deliberate and enjoying the excited squeals of the kid watching). I stop the car at my feet and give the kid, a chill youngster of 8 by the name of Ash, a turn driving after securing a promise to drive gently and to stay in this section of parking lot. Her grandmother takes down some notes about where the hobby shop is. She suggests to Ash that if her parents are okay with it she’ll take her there next weekend. She grins at me excitedly and hands back the controller, and they walk on.

… Sometimes people are okay…

I wave as they walk away, and turn my attention back to my car… can I get that drift in the turn down as a reliable skill? So much to learn… Time to begin. Again.

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, joy, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, Summer, The Art of Being

Hello, Dawn

June 25, 2026 //
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I woke gently, ahead of my alarm. I freshenened up and dressed for the day, then watered the lawn as I left. It is a pleasant routine and a lovely morning.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

I arrived at the trailhead as a beautiful sunrise began, hues of orange and gold quickly evolving to a delicate pearl pink sky. Beautiful.

Well, hello there brand new day!

I head down the path, enjoying the cool morning. Sometimes the path is clear, and the way ahead free of obstacles. Sometimes the walking is easy and my stride relaxed and comfortable. Some days are harder, others easier, and it took me far too long to learn to spend more time, emotional energy, and attention on the moments of joy and delight, however small or brief, than on the difficult moments. Truly, my difficulties generally find a way to get more than their “fair share” of my attention, no effort required. I savor this gentle delightful morning as I walk. I put attention on it, and keep my awareness firmly on “now”. The morning is a delight and I don’t want to miss any of it.

Vineyards along the trail under a pink sky.

I spent much of yesterday evening in my studio, sorting through recent images (and their associated recollections), finding the specific (best?) pictures that captured some detail I knew I wanted to paint. Another significant portion of the evening was spent in my Traveling Partner’s good company, as he showed me his drone and walked me through the features. He gifted me his previous drone, and talked me through basic operation. I even took my first flight! Oh, I’m slow about such things, and we were in the house, so really all I did was start her up,  take flight, and hover awhile, carefully feeling the experience of controlling her in the air. All the while, my Traveling Partner watched me thoughtfully.

… Loving someone with brain damage creates some challenges…

I woke this morning to a loving note from my partner. He’d carefully shopped for a better choice of “beginner drone” for me with features better suited to my limitations (and less likely to potentially injure me under predictable relatively common things that can (do) go awry for beginners). He made some recommendations, and I find myself genuinely excited about it. No particular reason to “go down this path”, beyond the fun of it, and the joy of a shared experience – but there is all of that, and I’m eager.

I grin to myself, feeling very loved this morning. I remind myself to study and take the TRUST test, so I can legally fly my drone.

Each dawn begins a new day. I say it a lot. This morning I’m really feeling the joy in it. There’s another busy work day ahead, but that will happen when the time comes. It needs no attention from me now. I sit contentedly with my thoughts.

There are hard times and good times, and it is pretty easy to miss out on the good times if I allow the hard times and moments of stress to dominate my thoughts beyond the boundaries of those moments. I breathe, exhale, and relax, feeling the pleasant summer morning infuse my consciousness with delight. The oaks stand watch alongside the trail as they always do, and I wonder (again) what their awareness might be like, and whether they have consciousness as I do? It’s not a question I can answer… but I do wonder.

…I think about coffee…

We make a lot of our challenges in life harder than they need to be. Just saying, that’s a very human thing – but we can choose differently. There are verbs involved. Decisions. Will. Action. (Practice.) I smile and watch a bunny on the opposite side of the trail from where I’m sitting. She has slowly come closer, nibbling tasty grasses and watching me for any sign of threatening movement. I sit quite still until she hops away back into the grass. We can choose how we treat those around us. I sit reflecting on how easy such choices seem in the abstract, and how difficult they can feel in the moment.

The clock ticks on. I’m grateful for the lovely gentle morning. I silently wish my beloved well, from the side of the trail, hoping his night was as good as mine, his sleep as restful, and his morning as full of effortless joy. Maybe it will be? Maybe it won’t be. Either way, I hope he knows he is loved. I look at the time. It’s already time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, art and the artist, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, joy, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being

Interference Patterns

May 16, 2026 //
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Why do I keep coming back to this place? Surely it isn’t just convenience, ritual, or nostalgia? (I mean… but it could be though…)

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

I think about it for a long while, maybe instead of the thoughts I may have thought brought me here. Too long, maybe, between chapters of “A Canticle for Leibowitz”, which I was finishing, and pages of “The Conspiracy Against The Human Race “, which I am only just beginning, both of which feel significant and well-timed. Cycles and patterns in life and living occur often in this mortal experience. I watch the waves of the ebb tide reach the shore, and return to cross and mingle with the next row coming in. It is late afternoon.

Waves against a rocky shore.

I consider the phenomenon of the double slit experiment, and of watching the ripples of water expanding out from a stone cast into the shallow water at the edge of my grandfather’s pier on Weems Creek on a summer morning. Interference patterns fascinate me endlessly. Interference is a subtle thing, natural and irresistible, and perhaps that is why I come to this place, to listen to sea breezes whisper truths that might escape my awareness in the busy-ness of life, as I contemplate the patterns in the waves as they reach the shore?

Sometimes I just need quiet and solitude – some time alone to “hear myself think”. I have been needing it so much lately, I guess, that any effort to do something else has been met with a feeling of profound discontent, and a sense of resisting what is needful, as if I were interfering with my own sense of purpose. What feels useful and right is to sit gazing out at the sea, or to relax with a coffee by the fire. My initial reluctance to fully yield to “wasting my time” on nothing more (or less) than my own thoughts quickly passed once I yielded to it without reservation (or interference).

I sit with my thoughts. That is, after all, what I come here for. What I came here for this time, too.

The medium brown strands of my hair fall in waves down my bosom. There’s not much gray. The auburn highlights sparkle where the afternoon sun reaches me through the window, hinting at red-headed-ness in my ancestry. One notable indulgence on this trip will be a long overdue haircut with a stylist I really like. I didn’t plan ahead, and I am grateful she was willing to make an appointment for me on a Sunday morning, just before I return home.

… Shit. I miss my Traveling Partner. The poignant feeling of loss and absence strikes me hard, abruptly. Yeah… I come here alone also to escape the subtle interference patterns of love, too. It’s a bit harder to focus on me when my heart is focused on my beloved. Here, for a couple of days, my thoughts are truly my own, entirely. At home, and this is not a criticism, my thoughts and the very fabric of my life is woven and intertwined with his. Every thread connects the two of us. My heart shifts gears now, from missing him to feeling incredibly loved. His love gives me ample room to step away, care for myself, and return more whole and more capable, and more able to partner with him in this life we share. That’s so beautiful…

I smile and set aside writing for some other moment, and return to my thoughts.

(Some time later)

My thoughts became, at some point, an unexpected nap listening to the waves through the open window. I woke, soon enough to think about some dinner and a bit more reading. I exchange welcome words with my beloved. He misses me. I am missing him too. Tomorrow is soon, and I’m looking forward to his embrace when I get home.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I sit in the evening light, watching the day dwindle away to night. Tomorrow I’ll begin again.

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Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, inspiration, Logic & Reason, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Spring, The Art of Being, women, Words

In The Evening

February 14, 2026 //
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I slept in this morning. I kept my walk short, and spent the day at home with my Traveling Partner. It was a lovely relaxed day. I didn’t think to write; I was living my experience. lol I appreciate love. Valentine’s Day isn’t really a huge deal for either of us, although I do enjoy that there is at least this one holiday that specifically celebrates romantic sexual love. (It seems really weird that we have this whole other thing to do with children giving all their friends Valentine’s Day cards.) Today, it was nice to relax in the good company of my beloved. It wasn’t fancy – it never had to be.

I have thoughts about Valentine’s Day. I’ve shared them. I guess that all summarizes as something more or less like… love yourself, too, be there for yourself, live well – intentionally – and choose your companionship with care. It’s not about cards, candy, flowers, destinations, gifts, or spending money. It’s the love that matters. Celebrate that every day! 😀

It’s already night. Evening passed quietly. I was about to crash for the night, and realized I hadn’t written today, which is quite odd. I’m not bothered by it, at all, this isn’t a forced routine, and any requirement that might exist would be my own. I have no such firm requirement, I just happen to have a gentle routine that suits my nature, presently. I generally write in the morning, but… I nearly always have words. lol Time of day isn’t an important detail; I can begin again any time.

So I write a few words. They don’t really communicate the joy and peace of the day. It’s been quite lovely. I’m sure it helped to have gotten such a good night’s sleep last night – 10 hours of deep sleep. It was wonderful! It’s a three day weekend – maybe I’ll sleep in again tomorrow? I won’t do anything to make that less likely. I breathe, exhale, and relax.

Tomorrow I’ll begin again.

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Categories breathe, gratitude, Healthy Living, joy, Love, Moments, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being, The Big 5, Words

One of Twelve

January 30, 2026 //
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Well. January is almost behind us. One twelfth of the year, gone. By this point, many resolutions have failed, and a lot of people are losing (have lost?) the motivation to change that propelled their goal-setting. How about you? Are you still sticking to a plan, pursuing a goal, chasing a dream, or even slogging along at a practice that does not yet feel really settled and part of your day-to-day experience?

Me, I’d have to look back to see what I even thought about at that time when people are adopting some resolution for the new year. When I do, I find myself thinking about debt, and choosing change, the futility of most resolutions. I find myself recognizing that change is, and planning to make a reading list for the new year (which I didn’t get around to doing! LOL). Looking back on the month, I don’t feel any disappointment or regret – only a bit of astonishment at how busy it has seemed, and how quickly it passed.

…January already gone…

I sip my coffee, knock out the budget for another pay cycle. Exchange a few words with my Traveling Partner, who is already up for the day, himself. It is an ordinary Friday. Bills to pay. Grocery shopping to plan (and do). Prescriptions to pick up. Errands. Chores. Life. Ask me what I want to be doing today – I assure you it is not work. I’d so much rather put my feet up somewhere with mild temperatures and pleasant weather, a nice view of… something… and a well-made coffee, and simply be for awhile, at leisure, my time and my thoughts my own. No time pressure. No to-do list. No concerns. Just a sweet floral breeze, or the scent of the ocean blowing in from the shore, a cup of coffee and some solitude. I’d settle for a camp stove and an outdoor pour-over made from beans ground too long ago, surrounded by trees and playful chipmunks… or… here. Now. This moment isn’t that far off the mark. I’m sitting in a chain cafe, with my laptop open in front of me, enjoying my coffee with “an unseen friend” (that’s you). I smile to myself realizing how easily I could distance myself from contentment in this moment by yearning for some other rather similar moment that is not now. I chuckle to myself; a human being, being human. We can be pretty g’damned foolish.

So, I guess what I’m saying is – if that goal or resolution was really important to you, and you’ve already fallen to sloth or become distracted or lost focus…begin again. Just reset, and start over. Seriously. It’s your goal, you get to define success your way. You get to begin again, any time. Redefine the scope of your project. Change the timeline, change the milestones. Refine your approach. It’s yours to do your own way. You’re walking your path, not any other. Hell, maybe putting it down and reconsidering things completely is the correct next step for you? What is the end result you’re going for? How much work are you really willing to do?

…We become what we practice…

I sip my coffee listening to bad muzak, grateful that I’m not out in the darkness and the rain. (I do prefer to walk in daylight, sometimes circumstances present other opportunities. lol) Friday. The weekend is ahead. I haven’t made a lot of plans or anything – I’ve been making a point to get some rest each weekend, this year. It’s been worthwhile. I’ve made time to read – which I promised myself I would – and I’ve made time to play my favorite video game (I rarely play for long, and sometimes go many weeks without playing at all). I’ve spent more time in conversation with my Traveling Partner, and more time enjoying moments of solitude when the opportunity arose. I’m looking forward to camping weather returning, but seasons are what they are, and I don’t like camping in colder weather; sleeping on the ground aggravates my arthritis. S’ok, there are plenty of books to read and recipes to try while the weather is crappy.

It’s a good start to a rather ordinary day. I’m okay with that. I’m not seeking some spectacularly exciting life in which every day is a whirlwind of activity and drama. I’m happy when things are easy, and there’s very little friction or stress. I smile thinking about my elders, when I was growing up, and lazy summer afternoons relaxing with an iced tea or a cold beer on the screened in back porch, looking out over the hillside down to the creek, or gathering in the twilight to watch the fireflies come out. How is contentment not a goal for more people? Why are so many people working so hard to make their own experience more complicated, less easy? I don’t understand that, myself. I’m pretty nearly always looking for “easy”. lol

…I’m just saying, we can reach contentment through practice. Chasing happiness, on the other hand, is a losing race; that’s not how we find happiness. (I most often “find” happiness when it sneaks up on me through a moment of contentment.)

Don’t like where you’re sitting? Choose change. Make a choice, do the verbs. It’s your journey, you choose the route. On the other hand, if you are content where you are, comfortable with your life as it is, okay with your circumstances just as they are, then enjoy that without guilt or shame or awkwardness! Don’t let anyone tell you that you have to work harder to get to a goal you don’t personally value. No one has that kind of time to waste – our mortal lives are all too brief.

What a fucking year this is, already. I sigh to myself and let that go. I’m okay. No bombs dropping here, and I’m grateful. No masked ICE thugs in the parking lot here and I’m grateful for that too, although it is dismaying that I would even have to think about it. Work is work – and I’m grateful to have the job I do. Could be worse. Generally speaking, things are pretty good. I’m grateful for this moment of contentment, and this hot coffee, and the partner I will go home to later on, and the little house we share, and the modern conveniences we are fortunate to enjoy. It is enough.

I look at the clock. I’ll have time to get a walk around the muddy “fitness track” near the library after daybreak, before work. Convenient. That, too, is enough, and it’s time to begin again. 😀

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Categories 2024 Election, Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, The Art of Being, War and News of War, winter, Words
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