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Easy for You to Say!

January 31, 2025 //
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I slept so deeply last night that I overslept my artificial sunrise by 11 minutes. Usually, I wake up at the first hint of dim light, or slightly before that time entirely. It’s rare to be awakened by the full brightness of the light in the room, and rarer still to “oversleep”. I woke disoriented and groggy, uncertain why the lights were on “so bright” (or at all) “in the middle of the night”? I looked at the time I’d set the alarm for (04:30 a.m.) puzzled. Why were the lights on at 04:41? Was it day? Night? Why was I awake? Did my Traveling Partner need me? Confused and stupid, I turned the light off before realizing that indeed, 4:41 is a later time in the morning than I’d set the alarm for (and usually get up). I sighed quietly, and turned the light back on, dimly. Fucking hell, it felt so early, and I felt so stupid. lol I pushed myself through my routine, still feeling puzzled that it was a new day. I think I could have slept longer, but I’ve no idea why.

The time is…now.

Eventually the morning leads me to the office, and here I am. Thinking about success and failure. Thinking about “getting shit done”, and what it takes to solve problems in life, handle stress, “deal with bullshit”, face change… and I write about these sorts of things quite a lot, and generally in what I hope is a positive and encouraging way (most of the time). I probably make it sound far easier than it is (even for me). There is real work involved in positivity, and in encouraging oneself – it’s not a “fake it til you make it” sort of thing for me; authenticity matters, too. I keep practicing. We become what we practice. I sit here with my coffee considering my failures in life. Those times when I failed to achieve a goal, sure, but also those times when I just wasn’t up to dealing with some circumstance or another properly, and let shit get by far worse because of my own bullshit and baggage and inability to adult successfully in the moment. That shit is real. As real for me as it is for anyone. We’re all walking our own hard mile.

Please don’t understand my encouraging tone or positivity as any kind of indication that this shit is “easy” in life. Sometimes things are hard. Sometimes “doing my best” isn’t good enough. Sometimes I just can’t – and don’t, although I definitely needed to. I’m human. I’m here encouraging myself just as much as I may seem to be encouraging you – and I guess I’m saying, sometimes you’ll still fail yourself (maybe unexpectedly) in some moment that you really meant to do better or more – and that’s very human. Shit gets too real, sometimes. When I fail, I begin again. I say it often, because I often need that reminder. Maybe you will, too. That’s okay. It is a lifetime journey, and the journey itself is the destination. No “do overs” really, but you do get a fresh start with every sunrise, and sometimes that has to be enough. (It usually is, actually.)

No, this thing called life isn’t “easy” (not for most of us, anyway). It’s worthwhile, though, and that counts for a lot. I sip my coffee and give myself a few minutes of quiet time to reflect. Things are going pretty well, generally, these days. It’s not a given that such will “always” be the case – change is. This too will pass – whatever “this” may happen to be. I breathe, exhale, and relax.

…It’s time to begin again. I wonder where this path leads?

We choose our path, our words, our actions.
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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Practices, The Art of Being, winter, Words

A Moment of Stillness

January 10, 2025 //
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I’m sipping my coffee. Just that. I’m taking a moment of time out of the day to simply sit, quietly. Not only is there no “shame” in taking this time for myself, between doing the budget for this pay period and starting the workday, it’s quite necessary for me to thrive that I take this time to simply be. No pressure to perform. No agenda. Nothing that must be done right this minute. There are opportunities to make room for stillness throughout any given day – for all of us – it’s a matter of taking that time and making it one’s own. It does require an act of will, particularly on a busy or stressful day. A moment spent just being… not fixing things, not ruminating over the latest stressful detail, not troubleshooting nor planning, simply a moment of stillness spent… being. I breathe, exhale, and relax.

…I could be doing a thing, my busy brain reminds me somewhat anxiously…

Another breath, another sip of coffee. I look out the window onto the morning. It’s not yet daybreak, and there is no hurry. There’s only this moment, and me, some stillness, and this coffee. It’s enough. More than that, it’s quite necessary.

…Metaphorically speaking…

I sit contentedly for some time before I turn back to my computer to write these few words about that simple experience. It does require a choice. Recognition that I am deserving of my own time and attention for this little while. The willingness to make inaction the action I am choosing to indulge for some little while. Purposeful contented stillness in the midst of a busy day feels… luxurious. No shame, guilt, nor reqret, just a lovely moment spent on… quietly being.

I am reading Vita Contemplativa by Byung-Chul Han. A worthy read about the pursuit and value of inactivity. The luxury of leisure. The worthiness of stillness to fuel creativity and thought. Another quite slim, small volume filled with big thoughts. I’m having to take it in small moments to give myself the chance to reflect and consider what I’ve read – and I am inspired. These notions about the value of stillness, inactivity, and rest really resonate with me.

I consider my dueling nature; the artist and the analyst. The girl who can read for hours and the woman who is aware there is yet more housekeeping to do. The daydreamer whiling away the day and the purposeful individual completing tasks on a list one by one. The driver heading for the horizon without a destination, and the one with a carefully planned route to a place that must be reached. The woman with a deadline and the one who does not care about time. What matters most, I wonder? Who am I when I am alone with the woman in the mirror?

I smile to myself. Having succeeded in taking a few minutes to just be, and to enjoy that moment without anxiety – or purpose – really refreshed and energized me. I feel “ready for the day” in some way that I don’t reach any other way. Is this “real” or an illusion? Does that even matter, if this is the experience I am having?

I glance at the time and finish my writing. I’ll finish, here, then finish my coffee without hurrying the moment. Stillness and time to reflect and simply be, first – I can begin again sometime after that. My calendar and my list will still be waiting there for me.

Where does this path lead?

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, joy, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, The Art of Being, winter

12 Years Later

January 8, 2025 //
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12 years ago I started this blog. It was a difficult time in my life, in spite of having a lot of the ingredients available for contentment, emotional security, and joy. I was deeply unhappy, and mentally unwell. I was teetering on the edge of making very final, very poor decision about my life that I wouldn’t have been able to revoke. Things felt incredibly bleak and I was “trapped in the mire“. When I considered starting this blog, I didn’t have a clear idea of what I was seeking from it and I could not see my path ahead. I was wandering in darkness, metaphorically.

Sometimes our path is illuminated. Sometimes we walk our mile in darkness.

I sought encouragement from one of my partners at the time, asking her thoughts regarding beginning a blog. I had kept a pen & ink journal for many decades, I just wasn’t certain I had something to say that was worth “sharing with the world”. She had a blog, and I hoped that she would have words of encouragement and maybe some insights. No, she did not have that. Instead, I received a valuable lesson regarding the likelihood that any given person has any interests but their own in mind, and a reminder that regardless of the relationship, however close I may think someone is, there’s a real chance that they do not have my needs and interests in mind at all. She smirked at me with a certain smugness, and told me rather dismissively that it probably wasn’t worth it for me to write a blog, and that chances were that no one would ever read it anyway, and I probably wouldn’t be able to “keep it up” more than a couple days. I was… hurt. I felt “invisible” and misunderstood. I felt exactly what she intended; dismissed and diminished. Then the anger – did she even know me? (She did not.) It was a lesson worth learning, and although I am fortunate to be so well-loved by my Traveling Partner in my current relationship, I have also learned to take care of myself, and to be the one meeting my emotional needs, first and reliably, as much as I know how to do.

Wherever it leads, the path we choose in life isn’t going to walk itself.

That first blog post was barely a beginning – but it was a beginning. Since then, I’ve had so many beginnings, and so many words of encouragement from so many people dear to me. I’ve shared my voice: my thoughts, my fears, my ideas, my astonishment, my affection, and my anger – and so many emotions and experiences on this path. I’ve practiced practices, and shared those here. I’ve failed and started over, and shared that too. Once a year, I am reminded of her dismissive words so long ago, and I smile and sip my coffee; she definitely didn’t know me. lol (As it turned out, I didn’t know her either, but I soon learned all I needed to know.)

Where does this path lead?

Since I wrote that first post, I’ve written 3111 3112 blog posts, with an average of 163k words each year (about 750 words each time I post, sometimes more, sometimes less), posting an average of 258 days per year. Consistency has worked for me. I’ve found my way into the inboxes of a couple hundred long-time subscribers (thank you), and turned up in more than 5 thousand searches and every search engine I’d ever heard of, and a few that were new to me. More than 34k people in 123 different countries have found their way here (I’m not surprised that most of my readers are in the United States, Canada, and the UK). I’m not “famous” (and not seeking fame), and I wouldn’t consider this blog wildly popular, but I’m definitely glad I started writing here – and grateful that you’re reading. I hope my musings have been helpful in some way, and if not helpful, I hope you’ve at least been entertained for some little while. Thank you for reading.

I’ve still got to walk my own path.

I’ll also say this; you have value. You have something to say in the world, something to contribute. Don’t let someone else’s opinion hold you back. If you’re inspired to write, or sing, or dance, or sculpt, or film, or share who you are with the world in some way, begin! If it doesn’t work out easily – begin again! We become what we practice. What you have to say matters – maybe a lot. We all want to be heard. It’s easy to become discouraged when someone whose opinion matters to us doesn’t support our enthusiasm when we expect it – don’t let that hold you back. We’re each having our own experience, and they have reasons of their own for not giving you the support you want and need, and those may have nothing to do with you at all. Let that shit go. Walk your own path. Find the traveling companions on life’s journey who are actually “going your way” for a while, and walk with them. Sometimes the journey is difficult, but that doesn’t make it less worthy.

Each step along this path has been worthy in it’s own distinct way, although I don’t always see it at the time I take the step.

It’s been 12 years since I began this blog. It’s been worthwhile to write each day that I did so. It’s been helpful more than once to look back on my own thoughts and words, myself, and seek my own council from the woman in the mirror. It’s buoyed my spirits when I felt low to read your comments, and know that I am “being heard”, and to feel that something I’ve said may have helped light the path for some other traveler.

The path isn’t always easy, but it’s mine, and I’ll continue to walk it. It’s time to begin again. Again.

It’s time to see what’s around the next bend…

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Categories Allegories, anger, art and the artist, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, grief, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, joy, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, Parables, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, The Art of Being, The Big 5, women, Words

Waking Up to a Plan

January 7, 2025 //
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This morning I woke up feeling subtly different about “things”, generally. It wasn’t a huge obvious change of heart or significant shift in mindset, but there was definitely a hint of a sense of purpose that feels more focused. I like having a plan. A bit of self-reflection can go a long way toward “lighting the path ahead” – like wearing a headlamp on a dark trail. It’s no substitute for sunlight, but it’s better than wandering around in the dark.

I’m sipping my coffee and taking a look at my notes from yesterday. It’s not a detailed plan, just a handful of notes. Something more like a notion of what landmarks to look for on a memorized route than an actual map. For example, “read more bound books” isn’t very specific at all – but I also have an actual stack of books to read, and a list for more that I’d like to read once I’ve finished the stack I’ve got. Now that’s a plan. Well… no. That’s an intention, backed up by physical tools to get the thing done. My plan is to take advantage of quiet time in the evenings to read a bit, and on weekend mornings when my Traveling Partner is sleeping in (when I can’t quite start on housekeeping chores and such because I’d make too much noise), those are good times for reading. If I wake during the night, I’ve got another good opportunity to read a chapter or two, before returning to sleep. That’s a plan. Making it all come together is about the actual actions, and as I said, this morning I woke feeling focused and purposeful – and not just about reading more bound books, there’s more to my notes than that, more that I’d like to do, to live, and to change. So… there are definitely verbs involved. Life to live. Choices to make. We become what we practice, and I’ve plenty of practice ahead of me in the new year.

This morning I am feeling hopeful and encouraged about life, in spite of the chaos of the world. Yes, there’s a lot of distressing horrible shit going on in the world, but very little of that is happening in my little town, and none of it in my home or at my job, and I don’t mean to be selfish or self-centered about this, I’m just saying there’s more to life than the outrage machinery of the media, or the horrors of foreign wars. It’s okay to also embrace hope, and enjoy… joy. In fact, it’s probably healthy, and helpful. So, I make a point of it. I’m not ignoring the shit that needs changing in the world – I’m merely “filling the tank” so that I have the endurance for this race, and the resolve to speak truth to power, and the will to do what I can to make positive changes, even if that is only raising my voice without shame to say “this is wrong, we can do better”.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I’m already thinking about distant trails, and afternoons camping in forested places. It’s winter now, but Spring will come again. I think about my Dear Friend for a moment. She “gave up” too soon, I’ve often thought. A great many things that we human beings do are more than a little “use it or lose it” in practice. You can love hiking, but if you don’t hike, it slowly becomes more difficult until it’s not easily done at all. This is true even of movement, generally. I don’t want to follow that path, myself, don’t want to “give up” too soon – so I keep walking. I keep camping. I keep working in my garden. (Well, that last is presently a bit aspirational; my untended garden full of weeds vexes me every time I walk past. I can do better. It’s on my list.) It’s easy to feel the fatigue and the pain and to want to just… rest. It’s a risky choice to rest too often for too long. It can too easily become a sedentary life of inactivity and malaise. I keep walking. I keep beginning again. One more step. One more task. Another project. Life is full of verbs.

I look at my calendar – I see a new physician next week. The week after that, an old friend (The Author) will visit – I’m excited about that. I haven’t seen him since… 2016? 2017? 2018. It’s been too long. The week after that I get my hearing aids. Busy January. The path ahead unfolds step by step. I look over my notes; it’s not about “ticking boxes”. It’s my life. I want to live it. I’m enjoying making time for more reading. I’m enjoying refreshing my Czech language skills. I’ll try out a new recipe tonight – probably. I skipped my walk this morning, and it serves as a powerful reminder that consistency is also a practice. (Every day that I don’t walk a trail is a day that reduces the likelihood of hitting that 1k trail mile target, I remind myself unnecessarily.)

I sigh quietly to myself, and stretch. I’m 61 as I sit here – 62 in June. How much time do I have left? What do I want to do with it? How do I live my best life for the longest amount of remaining time? What matters most? I don’t “feel old” – but I also don’t feel young. Today’s a pretty good day – I’m not in a lot of pain (call it a 3 on a 1-10 scale, which is honestly pretty good for me). There’s more yet to do – and doing it from a perspective of presence and mindful awareness changes the experience for the better. I smile and sip my coffee and push up my sleeves. It’s time to begin. Again.

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, joy, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, The Art of Being, War and News of War, weight loss secrets, winter

Responsibility, Fault, and Blame

January 3, 2025 //
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I’m sipping my coffee and thinking about words this morning. My coffee is seriously pretty damned dreadful, and the words I’m thinking over can be vexingly easy to misuse.

People are pecular, and inclined to misattribute what is going on within themselves (or externally) to some cause or another without even a casual fact-check. Humans being human; we are prone to assign “blame”. We think we know the how or why of a circumstance and we decide who or what is at fault based on our “knowledge”. Sometimes we think the fault is our own, and possibly accept responsibility for some event or circumstance, maybe even seeking to make amends for some thing we think we’ve done. Other times, it’s someone else deciding who or what they think is at fault for some situation or event, and they put the responsibility with that individual or group or entity, assign blame, perhaps demand accountability or redress of perceived wrongs. It’s strange stuff, most particularly because it’s often quite subjective, not well-researched, even thoroughly fallacious (or just fucking wrong). We human beings make a rather ridiculous number of assumptions, are exceedingly “gifted” at flawed reasoning, and confirmation bias, as well as offensively fond of maintaining a self-righteous grip on some dumbass notion without regard to any sort of fact-checking. We like being “right”, and we’re often willing to believe we are in spite of mountains of readily available evidence to the contrary. Fucking dumb. Humans being human.

I keep sipping my dreadful coffee. “Why do I do this to myself?”, I wonder, vaguely amused. I could totally go back to the break area and make a better cup of coffee. Instead I continute to sit with my coffee and my thoughts.

When I was much younger, I was often willing to expend a lot of energy arguing against stupidity (or lies). I rarely do now. It’s not that I’m not amused/offended/discouraged by apparent idiocy – totally am – I just… don’t feel I have the time to waste on that, these days. I have a life to live, and it is finite and mortal. I’d rather let wrong-headed bullshit go, and just move on (and potentially simply reduce contact with people perpetually inclined toward lies, stupidity, or negativity). I’d rather just not hang out with someone who is fond of conspiratorial bullshit than argue the point. I’d rather just smile and maintain a comfortable distance or an agreeable presence in the face of someone insisting on being wrong about something for which there is definitely evidence for a different opinion, than fuss over minutiae that may not truly matter for enjoying a moment together as people. It’s not that I don’t enjoy “being right” as much as the next person… I don’t enjoy expending energy fighting for it. If you think differently than I do, but don’t violate my personhood along the way (or anyone else’s), why do I care? You’re free to be wrong. Generally speaking, this seems a win, to me – being accepting, being tolerant, being okay with uncertainty or even being wrong. Only…

…I’m reading “On Tyranny“, and the author makes several very solid cases for specific circumstances in which being accepting or “agreeable” is not a good thing. Something to think about, and I sit with my coffee this morning thinking about words, thinking about ethics, and thinking about the potential risk in being too accepting or too tolerant, under a variety of circumstances. Definitely worth thinking about.

…Although, keeping it real? This doesn’t feel like a world where we’re all at tremendous risk from being “too tolerant” most of the time…

Sometimes there’s real personal risk involved in tolerantily accepting blame (or inaccuracy, errors, or lies) rather than arguing a point. Tolerance is virtuous – unless it is tolerance of actual evil. Real damage can be done. Words have meaning, how we use them matters. The world is complicated, and there’s surely room for many thinkers and many opinions, but there is only one actual reality, one world we all live in, one set of provable, demonstrable, documentable, actual facts – and a lot of people willing to undermine that reality to bolster a narrative that they prefer (whether for power or for profit). Real people can really get hurt. I could become one of those. So could you.

I sip my coffee grateful for this quiet moment of solitude. Right here, right now, there’s just me, this moment, and this dreadful cup of coffee. It’s on okay moment. I’m okay with the bad coffee; it’s real. It’s authentically crappy, and it is what it is. There’s nothing to argue about, and nothing to fear in being honest about it. No particular harm in it. Nothing controversial about a bad cup of coffee – unless perhaps I’m ready to go down the ethical rabbit hole of “should we be drinking coffee at all, considering the terrible exploitation of coffee growers?”. I sigh quietly. Shit is complicated when we “zoom out” and take in a bigger picture.

Reality is what it is. Reality doesn’t care what I believe (or what you believe), or whatever bullshit notions I may be inclined to cling to. Facts don’t lie – but it’s damnably easy to be wrong about whatever conclusions are drawn from them. Another sigh. Another sip of dreadful coffee. My thoughts don’t change anything this morning, and it’s time to begin again.

…Maybe a cup of tea, instead?

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Categories 2024 Election, Allegories, Anxiety, breathe, Fiction, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, Logic & Reason, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, The Art of Being, The Big 5, War and News of War, Words
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