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Use Only As Directed

May 17, 2026 //
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I woke early and made coffee. No point tossing and turning and trying to sleep in when my body had obviously given up on sleep, and my mind was very much awake already. It’s fine. It’s been a very useful little getaway, and I feel more prepared to “get back to things” with my mind right. I mean…it feels that way now. That’s enough.

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

Amusingly, upon logging in to my laptop for some note-taking and writing, I’m immediately faced with a banner on my dashboard encouraging me to “add AI” tools to my WordPress account. I almost spit coffee all over the keyboard. Are you f*ing kidding me? No. An unreserved, not even curious, “aw hellllll no!”. lol (Tell me your software company pushes shit on users without doing any research whatsoever about whether they want it, without telling me you don’t do any research on whether your users want the crap you want to push on them.) I sigh to myself, click to hide the banner, and when it pops up a question about whether I want to hide it for a week, a month, or forever, I happily choose “forever”. No thanks, no AI here.

…You’ll just have to put up with my odd grammar, word play, mixed metaphors, and typos, y’all, I’ve got this; it’s a human experience, being shared by a human being for other human beings. I correct some typos and move on.

It is another gray coastal morning. Looks like more rain, and my arthritic bones agree. I’m okay with that. Today, I go home. Hell, I might simply pack up and head back, but I do have an appointment to get my hair cut, and I’m definitely overdue. This cup of coffee seems less bad than yesterday’s – same coffee, same machine, same human being. What changed? The day, obviously, but that’s not likely to affect the coffee. Well, by now there’s been several fills of the little reservoir, so… I guess the machine has been rinsed out? When I contemplate the implications, I’m pretty grossed out – and I’m glad it didn’t make me actually ill. (I make a mental note to run water through cheap-ass plastic in-room coffee machines in hotels before making coffee in them. That seem smart.)

Isn’t that the way of this human journey? We stumble, we begin again, we learn from the mistake we made, we do things differently next time (ideally). It seems a bit inefficient, but here we are. Very few of us really learn any other way, and at least in America, we reinforce that inefficiency by mocking “book learning” and dismissing legitimate expertise. We’re all idiots. We elect idiots to important roles, deepening our idiocy. I sigh to myself, recognizing that while I am myself a complete idiot more often than I’d like, there likely are people who avoid most of the traps and pitfalls in life, although I doubt any one human being escapes them all. We’re quite fallible, curious, and prone to making mistakes before we think things through. (Part of that human experience, eh?) Just humans being human.

A a new day, a new perspective, a hint of blue skies.

…Oh damn, there is some part of me that does not really want to go back to “the real world” from this lovely break…

…

I give up on writing long enough to play a favorite track that lifts me up, dancing across the room as I happily groove along, packing my stuff. Why not? Joy is worth taking a break for, and today I go home to my beloved Traveling Partner – and while there are things about “real life” that I may dread (or just not enjoy much), my Traveling Partner is not one of those. I miss him, and I’m eager to be home again. I let the love songs play on. I make choices for the day as I pack. Go out for breakfast? Nah, I’ll just have these cup noodles. Go out for coffee? I don’t think so; the coffee here is fine, and if I want different/better, I can get a great Americano at the cafe next to the salon, later. These jeans or those? Earrings or no? – I’m getting my hair cut, and I’ll have to take them off anyway, I decide against earrings. Life is filled with choices. We make decisions all day, every day, from the moment we wake up and decide to go ahead and live another day, until we choose to call it a night and go to bed. Most of those decisions work out well, and we barely given them any thought. When we make a decision that does not serve us well, it tends to stick out as somehow more significant by itself than the sum of all the good decisions we’ve made along the way. I reflect on that awhile as I plan my day.

I reflect on things I’ve learned about myself, things I think I’ve sorted out, things I think I want to change through choice, action, and will to practice. Taking stock of “where I’m at” and what I want from my life (and myself) is sometimes more complicated than a weekend of quiet, but it feels like enough, as I sit here now. This is what works for me. (Your results may vary. Use only as directed. lol)

I look around this room. It’s mine for another couple of hours, plenty of time for a walk on the beach at low tide, and it is looking like a lovely morning for it. I smile to myself, wondering where my path leads.

The way ahead won’t always be paved, or easy to walk, but it is a journey worth making.

I grab my cane and my camera. It’s time to begin again.

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Your Results May Vary

May 16, 2026 //
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I am sipping a really terrible coffee, looking out over the ocean at low tide. Funny, I’m in the room right next to the room I had on my last visit here…but the view is diminished (one window instead of three side-by-side), and the coffee is terrible. My results vary. Yours will, too, most likely. It’s a very human experience.

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

Low tide, sunrise, western horizon.

I’m still drinking the coffee, as terrible as it is. I’ll go out for better, later, but for now this will do. I am still enjoying the view from this room. It’s beautiful. No complaints, and no need to journey elsewhere to see the sea. Surely, I’ll see more, and from other viewpoints, later today, but for now this is quite enough. This room is somehow smaller than the one next door (and no kitchenette, just a coffee machine and a mini-fridge). Doesn’t much matter; I’m not here about the amenities, I’m here to relax with my thoughts and reset myself, my thinking, and my approach to the day-to-day, hoping to come home feeling refreshed and energized, and somehow more myself than when I got here.

…Will that work? Maybe? It has before…

Here on the seashore I feel my Dear Friend’s presence and my Granny’s. Both women loved coastal places. Whenever I was low, talking with my Granny on the phone from some distant place, she would say “You should come to the shore, Sweetie, and take a rest from all that. It’s just noise in your head. Come listen to the birds, and feel the breeze on the marsh. We’ll take a drive into town and have crab cakes.” I’d often laugh, just feeling relieved to be heard. I couldn’t go as often as I would have liked, but on those occasions that I did, it saved me.

I sip my terrible cup of coffee, marveling at just how really awful it is. The morning sun begins to light up the distant clouds, high in the sky. Beautiful. A seagull stands on the bit of ground between the window and the straight drop to the beach, and looks into the window at me. The ocean is a sleek polished aluminum gray, breaking on the rocky beach in waves of white foam, shining with reflected light. I could sit at this window and watch this views for many uninterrupted hours – even with this gull standing there watching me, as if expecting I might toss some tasty morsel his way. It is windy today (yesterday, too), and it’s expected to be rainy, too. I don’t even mind. Storms make for dramatic skies, and rain means a good night’s sleep (for me).

I sigh to myself. This coffee is even worse once it’s begun to go cold. I chuckle to myself. It’s a good indication that it’s time to begin again, perhaps? The tide is as its lowest, and the tide pools here are something special. My clothes are already laid out. A walk on the beach, then a proper cup of coffee sounds like a lovely start to the day. I let go of my expectations; there is no sense in clinging to what I do not yet know. I already know that change is, and that my results may vary. I’m walking my own path, and that’s enough for this moment right here, now.

I finish this coffee, and think kisses at my Traveling Partner. He’s having his own experience – I hope it is a good one.

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Categories Allegories, art and the artist, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, women, Words

More Than a Happy Place

April 19, 2026 //
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I sipped my first coffee, feet up, sitting by a cozy fire, watching the light change with the gray coastal dawn. The view to the west is layers of gray and soft blue. For me, this place is more than a delightful destination to get away for a little while; the ocean symbolizes a relentless force of reality that compels self-reflection and forces me to face myself as I watch the waves roll in. There’s no arguing with the ocean. It represents a resilient nature indifferent to external storms, even in the midst of them. Obstacles are washed away, or, like driftwood, piled on the shore, visible, removable, and easy to avoid. The ocean is unyielding about her boundaries, and for me she provokes deep thought, and a presence that I find I must linger with.

…The views from this hotel are spectacular…

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

I pour a second coffee. The coffee machine here is quite clean, and the coffee must be fresher than usual (for a hotel); it’s quite good. I sit watching the waves. The tide is going out. I am surprised by a deer ambling up the steep slope just beyond the window.

It’s worth it to slow down and observe what’s going on, even when nothing seems to be going on.

She looks at me through the window, pauses to nibble some tasty plant, and ambles on.

Two of the women most dear to me (and most significant in my own life as a woman), loved the sea and seaside places. My Dear Friend and my Granny have ended their mortal lives some time ago, but when I am at the seashore, I feel them with me. It doesn’t matter whether it is the rocky coastal beaches of the Pacific Northwest, or the marshy edges of the Chesapeake Bay, or the kitschy seaside towns that tourists flock to each summer. I love being by the shore, too, if only because it connects me so deeply to these two women, who are so much a part of who I am myself. Sometimes when I most need to be alone, I am taking that time to “talk with my ancestors” in a way I find difficult to describe. It sometimes seems funny that I never feel my Dad’s presence in such places; his are the forests and meadows. The ocean seems to me to be a very feminine sort of energy. I find myself wondering if sailors feel that way, too? Theirs is a very different relationship with the sea…

Fisherman early in the morning.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I feel well and whole, and capable. I feel comfortable in my skin and grounded in the goodness of my life. I’ll head home eagerly to see what my Traveling Partner has done while I’ve been gone. He is, himself, a force to be reckoned with, and as his abilities return he is capable of moving mountains (and definitely furniture). Certainly, he moves me.

For now, it’s me and this beautiful expanse of beach, and this gray ocean under a cloudy sky – and another cup of coffee. I’ve got plenty of time to begin again, a little later.

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Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, 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

What To Do About Nothing

February 6, 2026 //
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I woke abruptly from a deep sleep. Someone had cried out, loud. My Traveling Partner! I got up before I was fully awake, and headed quickly to the sound I had heard. Pain has a specific sound, and I am still “tuned” to be alert for his voice in the night, since his injury a couple years ago (has it been so long already?). This morning? Broken toe. Ouch. Painful, but maybe not an emergency. After some conversation, he assures me he’d rather I went to the library to work, than have me stay home. He’s been trying to get some time to himself for a few days. I’m sure not going to mess that up for him.

…I am alert for him to reach out to me, anyway, my phone turned up louder than usual, and next to me on the table where I can see it if it lights up with a notification…

For almost an hour, I’ve been sitting with my coffee. Just sitting. Not writing. Not drinking coffee. Just sitting. I’m not complaining, just taking note. Weird morning. I feel a purposeful frown on my face. I am “triggered”, not so much my anxiety though, this is a different “feature” of the PTSD – this feeling of purpose on the edge of action; readiness. A left over of domestic violence bug-outs and military deployments, mostly, I guess. I tend to feel more comfortable day-to-day if this particular need to be “ready to go on a moment’s notice” is gently supported (the gear bin my SUV, water, emergency rations, and my backpack, too, are elements of supporting this need, as much as they are simply useful for camping or emergencies). Other than that, I don’t give it much thought. Fighting it definitely does not help. This morning, I have no action to take right now, but I am “on alert” nonetheless. It may last awhile. I could do without the acid reflux though. lol

I take a deliberate willful sip of my coffee. It’s just the right drinking temperature. I take a longer drink of it. I definitely appreciate it this morning. Rough way to wake up from a rare deep sound sleep. I’m not exactly groggy. I’m not quite entirely awake. I feel fired up by a sense of urgency that has no outlet, and not grounded in this moment, here, now. I feel connected to each of the many past versions of this woman that I am, who has waited on the edge of urgency, so many times, for the action yet to come. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I offer myself a silent assurance that this too will pass, and sit with the experience, waiting for that. I’m grateful for the good cup of coffee this morning. I’m grateful that I will see the sunrise a little later, as I make my way from this cafe to the university library to finish the work week, instead of from the ER waiting room.

A broken toe is not “nothing” – hell, even a stubbed toe is crazy painful (and the pain lingers). The titular “nothing” in the subject line this morning is to do with the “nothing” in my head, sitting here triggered, waiting for action that is not necessary, and is not now. I consider the sensation – it is an uncomfortable one mingled with unease this morning, which puzzles me. It’s a bit like picking up a mug I know to be white, and perceiving it as some other color entirely in spite of that knowledge. I solve it when I remember I am driving my Traveling Partner’s pickup; my car is at the body shop. My gear and preparedness are not conveniently at hand – and a sick feeling of panic surges and I feel a chill of tension sweep over me. Well, shit. Okay, so that’s not necessary. I chuckle to myself, feeling entirely too human, but appreciative to have picked up on the subtle signals from within that something didn’t feel right. Much harder to deal with a feeling that is not clearly identified, I find. I breathe, exhale, and relax; my Traveling Partner is as well prepared as I am (maybe better, considering the differences in our vehicles). I don’t have my backpack – but his is in the truck, and equally well-equipped with basics. I don’t have my gear bin, but his is there, and there’s quite an assortment of useful stuff tucked here and there. I’m less than 2 miles from home. Less than two miles from the storage unit into which I put my gear while the car is in the body shop. The panic subsides.

I sigh to myself. I feel worn down and tired. I feel more than a little “anti social”. I’d like to hop in my car and drive to the horizon just to see what might await me there. I’d very much like to… something. I don’t know. I feel a certain yearning, but it’s not clear why, and I find myself wondering if it is simply nothing more than the shifting sands of my emotions as the biochemistry of emotional experience has its way with me? I breathe, exhale, and breathe again, letting the breaths come and go, without much else going on. This is the moment I am having, now. That’s fine. “Nothing to see here.”

My mind wanders to summer camping, spring flowers, and new trails. Maybe tomorrow I’ll drive out to Chehalem Ridge, or Miller Woods? I sit with my coffee and my thoughts. Brunch with the Chaotic Comic on Sunday – unless one of us flakes on that. We often do. We don’t take it personally; we’re having our own experiences, and sometimes we need to change our plans. The friendship is worth accommodating our quirks in an understanding way. I’ve got the truck, and mild weather – maybe a drive to the coast and a visit to Fogarty Creek and the private cove beach there? The thought of a taking a different direction, tomorrow, appeals to me. I sit with my thoughts awhile longer.

…It’s already time to begin again…

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Love, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, The Art of Being, The Big 5, winter, women, Words
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