Archives for posts with tag: perspective

I woke later than usual. It was almost 05:00 when I woke. I felt rested and positively merry. I dressed to head out for my morning trek down the marsh trail that circles the nature park.

As I checked the weather, and the time, I see I’ve got a message from my beloved Traveling Partner. The love and concern in his words is clear. He suggests I keep my walk short, maybe local, and proposes I maybe stay home entirely and get my miles on the elliptical, while watching a favorite show. He proposes that we could do something together, later, an idea that appeals to me. I feel loved. I sit with that feeling for a moment, letting it fill my consciousness.

The idea of a shorter walk and better self-care is a tempting idea, for sure, I admit. I really like being out on the trail, though, enjoying the short quiet interval of solitude… and my walks at the nature park put me nearby a favorite grocery store, and I generally stop there after my walk on a Saturday morning… The temperature is mild… I head out, remembering my commitment to one of the grocery checkers to share some items my Traveling Partner made, and deciding to keep my walk short, any way.

The drive to the nature park was quiet. No traffic. I enjoyed it, smiling to myself as I drove with my thoughts, grateful for my loving partner who cares about my well-being, and for the lovely morning. Before I reach the nature park, it begins to rain, first just a sprinkle, then as I reach the trailhead parking, a proper steady rain. I grimace, and laugh, betting my Traveling Partner had checked the weather report more closely than I had.

Now I sit, waiting for a break in the rain. I’m unbothered and relaxed. Hadn’t I already decided to make my walk a shorter one, anyway? No stress. No agitation. Just change. I breathe, exhale, and relax, listening to the rain on the roof of the car.

At its heart, resilience is simply that ability to bounce back in the face of change, uncertainty, emotional disregulation, or even trauma. Resilience needs development, as with things like muscular strength. Specific practices build resilience. Meditation, as a practice, helps build resilience. The practice of “taking in the good” is another that directly builds resilience. Forgiveness, as a practice, is another that contributes to resilience, by limiting how long our hurt feelings or injuries inflicted by another can dominate our thoughts. Practicing non-attachment and embracing related ideas such as impermanence, sufficiency, and building depth and breadth into our perspective on life, generally, are helpful for building resilience.

What’s it good for, though (resilience, I mean)? Why do I put so much value on it? Partly due to this; it improves pain management results.

Resilience let’s us bounce back and carry on, without becoming mired in our pain, sorrow, or anger. Resilience is that quality that gets us quickly past a difficult moment, and on to enjoying the next. Well-established resilience, over time, may become the difference between having some troubling mental health episode or meltdown, and simply acknowledging a difficult experience, dealing with it, and moving on with things calmly. I don’t know about you, but that sounds pretty good to me.

…So I practice…

Sometimes, I fall short of my commitment to one practice or another, but that’s also why I see such things as practices in the first place, instead of tasks to be checked off as completed, or skills to be mastered. Mastery is inconsequential. Practice is ongoing. It is a doing that doesn’t really finish. Each practice with real world value in my lived experience becomes a lifestyle change, over time. Each practice becomes part of my routine, and part of who I am. The result? I am more resilient. It becomes a character trait, and in that regard, it also becomes easier to maintain. Such results don’t mean no practice is required, just that the effort and will involved in the practice itself is greatly reduced. Sometimes, though, I still find myself not practicing some practice or other, through circumstances or forgetting. I’m human.

… I just begin again, and get back to practicing…

The rain stops, but it’s not yet daylight, and I’m not in a hurry. There’s no need to rush my walk, or hurry home to barge in on my beloved’s quiet time over his coffee first thing. I sit quietly a little longer. Daybreak soon, and I’ll walk the short loop, and watch the sunrise – then, I’ll begin again.

…It is a good day for self-care.

I get it. Maybe I even read that same headline and had the same astonished, frustrated, dismayed, disgusted, horrified, or flummoxed response.

Was it billionaire cash grabs? Was it DHS blandly disavowing any knowledge of pregnant women in custody being mistreated? Was it another report of masked agency thugs harassing citizens? Was it the thoughtless narcissistic destruction of a historical treasure to build a monument to a tacky tasteless display of personal wealth? Was it news that yet another powerful crony of Trump is directly profiting from flouting ethical rules? The high cost of healthcare and groceries? The government shutdown? Corporate data centers driving up the cost of residential consumer power bills? I get it. It’s all pretty g’damned horrible and disappointing (and worse)… but… we’ve got to breathe, and we’ve got to practice skillful boundary-setting and good self-care to get through this absolute fucking disaster. No kidding. Breathe. Please. (And I remind myself, daily.)

…Take a moment, and do the best you can to calm yourself, and find perspective…

…Maybe put down the news, or your doomscrolling device of choice…

Don’t mistake me for saying “be silent and endure”, that isn’t my message at all. Protest. Resist. Write to your elected officials, even if you suspect no one is listening. Take action, when there is action to take. Speak truth to power. Don’t let the enemies of democracy win because you forfeited the game! But… take care of yourself and your loved ones, and be kind and considerate to your fellow travelers. We’re all in this together. A lot of people are suffering needlessly, all around us. Don’t add to the misery.

Self-care and good mental and emotional health matter even more in difficult times.  Practice the practices that nurture and heal you, lift you up, and spread joy in your circle of influence! Share what’s going well in life at least as often as you bitch about everything going wrong (more would be good). Maintain balance and perspective, and stay mindful that change is, and we are mortal creatures. All of us are mortal, including the monsters among us. Nothing is permanent , not even this freak-show shit-storm of hate and incompetence that is the current US administration. This too will pass. Do what you can to get through it with your soul intact.

Take a moment for something beautiful.

Sometimes when things are hard in the world, the stress seeps into my consciousness from all around me, and the tiniest details of my own experience become subtly tainted with it. My PTSD symptoms, generally pretty well managed these days, flare up unexpectedly. My sleep becomes routinely disturbed as if I’d never had the years of therapy, of practices, of healing, and of good sleep hygiene that once resolved that problem almost completely. My degraded sleep leads to cognitive impairments due to fatigue, and emotional volatility increases with my frustration with myself, and my dread of conditions in the world at large. The stress piles up, each moment of panic, of dread, of frustration, of sorrow, of anger, adding to a haystack of poor mental health and degraded cognitive faculties that leaves me even more vulnerable to spiraling out of control into despair or rage. Yeesh. Human primates are fucking complicated. (…Where is that damned owner’s manual… Maybe a handy user’s guide…?)

I breathe, exhale, and relax. A single glance at the news headlines was enough, and I set that shit aside. The blend of regurgitated outrage, sycophantic dick-sucking, and sponsored content is more than disappointing enough viewed through headlines – I surely do not need to read further. Not today. Today, I’ll take care of this fragile vessel.

I slept through the night last night, and woke feeling more rested than I have in days. I’m not in as much pain, either, though enough to signal coming rain, probably in the next day or two. I allow myself a moment of amusement that my aching bones predict the weather. I made a point of bringing a bottle of water along with me this morning, rather than allow myself to drink coffee all day long. I make a point of taking my medication on time, and also my vitamin supplement (which I probably skip too often). I didn’t rush through the morning, taking my time as I dressed, and allowing myself to be less ludicrously vigilant about small noises (which often results in some moment of clumsiness and much more noise). I breathe, deeply and exhale completely. I check in with myself… jaw clenched? Relax that. Shoulders tight? Relax those too. Detail by detail, I make room for self-awareness. I breathe, exhale, and relax. The day begins in an ordinary enough way, and the commute was easy.

I stretch. Yawn. Sip my coffee – and begin again.

Sometimes life feels easy. Mostly life does not feel easy, at all (for me). Stress comes and goes. Uncertainty. Doubt. Worry over this or that new challenge. Circumstances that are a poor fit for the life we want to live. It’s not always a money thing. Sometimes it is. It’s not always about trauma, chaos, and damage. Sometimes it is. One thing I’m pretty clear on, these days; we’re each having our own experience, colored by our expectations and assumptions, filtered through our experiences, and understood using an internal dictionary it is highly likely no one else really shares. We bitch about left and right, about right and wrong, ignoring the likelihood that whoever is listening means something a bit different by those terms than we do, ourselves. We default to speaking in sound bites and slogans, even when we know how empty those may be. Human primates are weird. We treat each other poorly, even though our relationships with each other are the single most important thing about our individual experiences.

I sigh to myself. I’m in the co-work space getting settled in to begin the work day. The commute into the office was easy to the point of being surreal; I hit all the traffic signals along the way green, and there was never a car ahead of me going slower than I was, nor anyone creeping up on me from behind wanting to go faster. I hope the entire day feels like that. Seems unlikely; I slept poorly, and I’m already feeling signs of fatigue (or, perhaps, not quite fully awake, yet).

If someone asked me, right now, how I’m doing, I would say “not bad”, and the realization that such a conversation would go that way makes me roll my eyes and sigh softly with some measure of impatience and frustration. That sort of negative turn of phrase suits me, creatively, but isn’t ideal for communication. It was one of the first things my Traveling Partner ever asked me to consider changing, when we were getting to know each other. Hilariously, I misunderstood that request so thoroughly, I proceeded down a path of personal growth that wasn’t the intention, and became someone far more positive in general than I’d ever been previously. I have no comment whether this is – or was – a change for the better. I suppose, probably, and I am more content and joyful in life, but I don’t know that there is a causal relationship between that change and this experience. It’s just an interesting, mildly amusing recollection, as I start my day.

…I’m tired, and my mind wanders…

No walk this morning. Maybe later? It is a lovely autumn morning, and daybreak is just beginning. I smile and stretch, and think about recent other walks, and other mornings.

The colors of fall inspire me, and I think about paintings I have not yet painted.

I think about walking my path, as a metaphor for progress, growth, and forward momentum – changes over time, step by step, along a journey without a map. This life thing has so many options, choices, and “side quests”, it is sometimes difficult to imagine it as a single path. It twists, turns, and detours through experiences I hadn’t considered, or even imagined. The menu in The Strange Diner is vast.

I enjoy the routine of walking a familiar path, but change is often waiting for me somewhere along the way.

I find myself missing the library desk from which I most often work, these days. My “happy place” is not some fixed point of geography. It is my office & studio at home. It is in my garden. It is on the trail at dawn, watching the sun rise. It is in a quiet moment with my Traveling Partner. It is in a library, perhaps most of all. The library was one of the first places where I felt truly safe, surrounded by stacks of books, and rows of shelves, the air still and quiet and smelling of… history? Smelling of stories and narratives and the printed word, and seeming almost infinitely grand and somehow limitless. I love libraries. Small libraries in modest homes, big university libraries, legendary libraries that have stood the test of time over actual centuries – they each have that “library quality”.

How can someone be bored, in a library, when every shelf holds unexplored knowledge and infinite adventure?

I let my mind wander awhile longer. I’m okay for most values of “okay”. It’s an ordinary work day, in a fairly ordinary life – and that’s entirely fine. It’s enough. I glance at the clock, and notice the time. I breathe, exhale, and relax, before I begin again.

I got to the trailhead early. Before the sun. Before dawn. Before daybreak. In the chilly darkness of an autumn morning, a mist gathers, moving up from the lowlands of the marsh and the riverbank. A slim crescent moon rises, looking like a single half-closed eye in watchful meditation, above the mist.

Predawn darkness at the trailhead.

It is a good time for thinking and for meditation. As the moon rises, I reflect on useful ideas I have picked up along my journey, each uniquely worthy of guiding me on my way, like sign posts, or streetlights. I take a moment to jot them down, carefully putting them in alphabetical order for no particular reason.

Amor Fati is, for me, a useful idea in spite of my lack of conviction with regard to the possibility that anything at all is or is not “fated” to be as it is. For me it carries a sense of recognizing that circumstances are what they are in some moment, and allowing (encouraging) a certain sense of acceptance, generally, and living within an accepting context, on life’s journey. I don’t carry any sense that I am “doomed” to some particular outcome – change is – only that even in the midst of change, acceptance can provide a comfortable foundation to rest upon, before beginning again.

Gnothi Seaton – know thyself – an idea with so much history behind it, it’s hard to call it an eye-opening realization. Seriously, though? How can we change who we are, if we don’t know who we are?  How can we grow to become the person we most want to be, if we don’t know who that even is? How can we live our values, if we don’t have a clear understanding of what we do value?

Gratitude as a practice has become incredibly important to me. It’s one of several practices I practice that is built on a simple idea. In this case, the simple idea is that gratitude tends to crowd out anger and similar negative emotions, creating a more positive experience of life, even in stressful times. Gratitude helps build emotional resilience and reframes difficult experiences in terms that tend to promote peace, compassion, and understanding. Gratitude also feels good and satisfies something within me.

Ichi-go Ichi-e is the unrepeatable, unique nature of each precious finite moment, and is a particularly powerful idea for me. Each singular moment of our mortal lifetime is also another opportunity to begin again, to do better, and to be more present.

Impermanence is one of those ideas that has layers of meaning and usefulness. I meditate on impermanence often. Change is. However reliably certain some condition or experience seems, change itself is more reliable and more certain. We are mortal creatures, living our short lives in a finite universe of constant change. Impermanence is the sort of idea that can cause a person tremendous anxiety – or heal it, depending, I suppose, on how it it viewed, and whether it is accepted.

Memento Mori is an interesting idea, a reflection on mortality, a reminder that our time is brief, and that our mortal life will inevitably end. There is (as of 2025) no escaping death. Will the life we choose to live be worth our efforts? Will we be remembered – and for what? Life itself is characterized by impermanence, and our journey is the only destination we have, as the grains of the sands of time trickle through the hourglass. Even knowing that – maybe especially knowing that – we live and choose and grow and continue one day after the next, until the days run out. Which they definitely will.

Non-attachment, like several of these ideas, is associated with Buddhism, and other religions that value contemplative and meditative practices. It is a caution against clinging to expectations, desires, or worldly things. It is the face of a coin for which impermanence is the reverse. When we embrace change and refrain from clinging to some specific outcome, we free ourselves from a lot of drama, sorrow, struggle, and emotional pain. It goes hand in hand with ideas like “letting small shit stay small” and walking away from unpleasant (or damaging) people or experiences.

Vita Contemplativa is the inverse of Vita Activa (also a useful idea, but sadly perverted in a busy modern world, becoming “grind culture” and abusive overfocus on work to the detriment of self). The 21st century philosopher Byung-Chul Han wrote a book by this title, in praise of inactivity as a vital function of living well. Turns out, we’re so incredibly bad at living a contemplative life, or even at incorporating contemplation, self-reflection, and meditation into our daily lives that I couldn’t find a single really good source of information to link for this one, other than to Byung-Chul Han’s book. We put a lot more emphasis on productive action in life and society, even to the point of illness, chaos, and destruction. We over value momentum and ambition, and decry thoughtful reflection as”lazy” or a “waste of time “, and tend to punish the daydreamers and peace seekers among us. That’s pretty sad, actually.

A new day, well-suited to thinking thoughts and walking in solitude.

Day comes. The mist envelopes me on the marsh trail. I am alone with my thoughts, wrapped in contentment. I let the useful ideas stack up, layers of self-reflection, practices, and incremental changes over time. I can easily say I am in better place as a human being than I was 15 years ago. Strange to see the journey behind me in such clear terms, illuminated by a handful of useful ideas.

(“It’s not a religion, it’s just a technique…“)

The time I’ve spent along the way really reflecting on where I’ve been and where I’m going – if I even know – has never been “wasted time”. Some of my most precious moments have been spent in contemplation. Meditation has proven itself as a powerful healing practice (for me). I didn’t know it would be, when I set off down this path…

… And it’s time, again, still, and already, to begin again. I don’t know where I’m going, not really, but I’m definitely getting there. The journey is the destination.

Everyone is after “more for less”, “something for nothing”, or some sort of advantage. Everyone else (also) is looking to “make a buck”, or gain a personal advantage, or seeking to “get ahead”. It’s something to think about. The desire to profit, or to accumulate wealth (or power), drives a lot of human behavior.

…Let’s talk about “greed”…

When human beings strive, struggle, and yearn for something they don’t have, you might be inclined to think they would be satisfied once the need is met. That isn’t often how it goes though, is it? People pretty commonly seem to want more, different, other, or better. We have tendencies toward accumulating resources, even to the point of ruinous hoarding, sometimes money, sometimes empty cigar boxes or old magazines. It’s weird, isn’t it? Sufficiency – and being content with “enough” – seems to take as much (more?) practice as working to acquire more, and comes less naturally to many people. Is greed an inmate character trait that requires us to carefully teach children to share and to be modest about their relatives means in an unequal world, or is greed something we’re taught to see as having practical value in spite of being a distasteful character trait? I often wonder.

I’ve been poor (very). I’m not “rich” now. I am unlikely to achieve great wealth; I’m not chasing that dragon. I work (and I am grateful that I can). I enjoy small luxuries, but don’t lust after expensive sports cars, or haute couture clothing. I’m content with what I have, generally, and I am grateful and fortunate that when we bought our little house in the suburbs on the edge of Oregon wine country, my most profound material yearning was fulfilled. I have a home. I don’t also want or need diamonds or Louboutin shoes.

For me it is sufficient luxury to pay the bills, keep the pantry stocked, and be able to fill the gas tank of my car anytime, without having to double check my bank balance. I struggled enough through many years that I still see sufficiency itself as a luxury, in spite of very much wanting everyone to have enough, and feeling that this opinion is right and good. The resources of the world seem likely to be sufficient to provide enough for everyone, were it not for those few who aggressively secure the biggest possible piece of the pie for themselves. I frown, thinking my thoughts as I walk, before getting to my halfway point to stop, write, and reflect further.

Greed is a “question” for which I have no answer, aside from my own thoughts on it as a character quality (toxic, corrosive, terrible, wasteful, cruel, ugly), and my earnest desire not to be that, myself. Sufficiency feels like enough, generally. Oh, I’m not super human. I find myself prone to greed, too. It turns up in strange places – like Halloween – which is probably why it is on my mind.

It’s time to buy sweets for roaming goblin children and costumed tweens doing their best to look bored, and I will reliably buy too much, if history teaches me anything. It’s a mark of greed, and I recognize it in my fondness for the excess available in the overstuffed bowl of candy that will be by the door on Halloween. I like the having of too much. That’s greed. Not a good look, and a poor practice from a social perspective. I should not even be eating any of that crap myself, at all. It’s terrible for my health. The children will themselves model whatever lessons they have learned about greed or sufficiency, when they come to my door. Halloween is weird this way. Making it about candy in the first place was someone else’s greed, and here we are.

I think about it awhile longer. “Do better,” I tell myself silently. I sigh to myself. Enough is enough – that’s why we call it that. 😂 Humans are weird. You might think we’d do more to ensure our own lasting survival and to preserve the shared habitat we (and so many other creatures) call home. You’d be wrong. We are greedy and shortsighted.

I sigh again. Daybreak comes. I take a moment for gratitude. Even having enough may (can, often does) require a lot of work. I’m grateful for the job I’ve got. I’m grateful for the good night of sleep I got last night that will make the work day so much easier. I’m grateful for a partner who knows what he wants and understands the limitations of our resources. I’m grateful for this quiet time in the morning.

I breathe, exhale, and relax, and take time for meditation. Dawn comes. The sun begins to rise. I feel at ease and filled with contentment. It’s a nice starting point to begin again, and I am grateful for this too.