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Time Passages

July 10, 2025 //
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I’ve got an old song stuck in my head from a long long time ago. No idea why – it wasn’t even a song I really liked when it came out in 1978 (I was too young to understand much about nostalgia). Strange time for me then; I was 15, and that’s a strange time for anyone. lol

So, I’m sipping my coffee and watching the storm clouds, dark and threatening on the eastern horizon, and listening to this song (to get it out of my head), and wondering “what the hell?” A glance at the Billboard Top 100 from that year shows me songs that would do a better job of “taking me back”. This old Al Stewart track doesn’t even make that list. lol Why is it in my head? I don’t suppose that really matters – it’s gone now. 😀

The weather forecast says it’ll be another summer day. There’s no rain in the forecast, but I’m not sure how much I can (or should) trust the weather forecast these days, with all the recent indiscriminate staffing cuts in relevant government agencies. I watch the clouds begin to break up, revealing streaks of a clear robin’s egg blue sky beyond. Summer. It’ll probably just be hot, and maybe a little muggy (like yesterday). I lose interest almost immediately; I’m indoors, and the office has AC. I’ll return home in a vehicle that has AC, to a home that has AC. I sit with that thought awhile; I’m very fortunate. I take time for gratitude, and to consider how many places in the world suffer with terrible heat, and how many people must endure it without AC, or any sort of indoor climate control at all. I remember the stifling heat and humidity of my childhood (no AC) in Maryland – and that was years and years before people were seriously discussing climate change as a problematic force to be reckoned with (and “hot” was cooler than it is now). I’m fortunate to enjoy this good iced coffee, looking out on a hot day ahead from this comfortable place. Hell, I could be drinking my coffee hot and it wouldn’t feel like any sort of hardship or inconvenience at all – I’d still be enjoying the experience, and grateful to have coffee still available. My anxiety about that concern surfaces briefly; can we really expect coffee (and similar luxuries) to remain available in the face of profound climate change and bullshit government shenanigans that impair both the supply chain and the value of… everything? I feel certain that we are facing real potential that something as simple as a cup of coffee could become a luxury on the order of a fucking Birkin bag in the relatively near future… I try not to get spun up over it. It is A. not a thing yet, and B. not a thing I could directly change, even if it were imminent. I breathe, exhale, and relax. If my brain is going to attack me from the inside with my anxiety, it’s damn well going to have to work harder than that. lol

I skimmed the headlines this morning. Hilariously enough, it’s become unnecessary, generally, to bother with reading the articles. Many of the most reputable sources are behind paywalls, and I’m not going to pay for more subscriptions (can’t afford to be careless with such things these days), and the less reputable, more readily available sources often appear to be copying one single source with nearly identical articles (why bother reading that), others are clickbait (no thank you), and what is left over gives enough information in a headline that I often already know the basic facts and where I stand on matters that require an opinion at all. No point reading AI slop, or bad writing. I catch myself responding silently to the headlines – in some cases just correcting obviously poor grammar or poorly chosen words that don’t mean what the author intended (sometimes it’s obvious). I silently push back on the misuse of “how”, when the author clearly wrote about “why”; that sort of thing really vexes me for some reason. Funny thing about the internet and social media; it has tended to make most of us behave as though “the world” gives a shit about our dumb opinions on all manner of topics that we maybe don’t even know anything about (or not enough to have an opinion worth hearing). We earnestly want to be heard, and social media gives us an outlet to let ourselves feel that we are (whether anyone is actually listening or not). I include this, right here. Does my opinion actually matter, when I share it? Are we in silent agreement or silently arguing? I won’t ever actually know. I chuckle to myself for no reason. I don’t have solutions to these things, if they are problems to be solved at all.

I sit for a moment considering how little the small ripples on still water when a rock is thrown in actually matter when they reach the shore. I sip my coffee, content to be here, now.

The work day is planned and waiting for me. The clock is ticking. Condensation on my coffee cup drips down the sides like sweat and pools around the bottom. “You should put that on a coaster…” I think to myself with a sigh. There are things to do, and verbs involved, the future is not written, but I’ll become what I practice – eventually. The woman reflected back at me in the window smiles. It’s time to begin again. The day is waiting.

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

A Thoughtful Moment

July 3, 2025 //
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There’s a storm brewing. I can see the dark gray clouds on the horizon, through the lush summer greenery of the tree just beyond the window. I think about the weather and the climate. I think about change. I think about trauma, memory, and strangely I also think about genocide.

A view. A perspective on a moment.

Have you stopped to wonder, even for a moment, what the results of the collective trauma of the Palestinian people will be, those few that remain after years of genocidal attacks on that population? What about the people of Ukraine, fighting valiantly to preserve their national identity in the face of Russia’s attacks on their land, their culture, and their people? It may be worth a moment of your time to think about it. Some of these people may one day be your own neighbors. Just saying, we’re all in this together, aren’t we? All human?

I sip my coffee and watch the changing light and shadows through the tree beyond the window. I think my thoughts. 4th of July tomorrow – what are you celebrating? National identity? National pride? (Is there so much to be proud of, right now?) Freedom…? (Freedom from what, exactly?) Did you serve in the armed forces? If you did, are you still proud of your service, considering all that is going on in the world? (Were you ever?) Did you achieve something? No, I mean… really. What changed? What good have you done in the real world that is worth celebrating? (Maybe it would be sufficiently celebration-worthy to pass through this mortal life without doing any harm?) I sigh to myself. Rhetorical questions. I’ve got my own answers, and they are less than ideally satisfying. I still consider myself “a patriot” – and I am ashamed of the willful cruelty and corruption of our government, and the harms we seem so willing to deliver to our own people, and so many innocent non-combatants around the globe. How do people rationalize being so terrible to other people? So destructive? So hateful? So… stupid?

I personally find 4th of July as a national holiday fairly pointless, and the way it is celebrated, with displays of colorful ordnance and barbecue, rather wasteful. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I like a good barbecue. I just don’t personally see the value in blowing shit up (however colorful) to celebrate a military victory more than 200 years in the past, by people who have never gone to war themselves, can’t understand what they are celebrating, and apparently have no idea of the real cost in human lives and suffering of military actions. What the actual fuck? What purpose do the fireworks serve? Is the risk of igniting a wildfire actually worth it? Still, here we all are, eh? It’ll be nice to enjoy a long weekend…

…G’damn, Woman, just let people have their fun…

The doe who eats my roses.

Yesterday evening while I was in the garden, I saw the doe who has been strolling through regularly and eating my roses and my vegetables. She calmly watched me, unbothered. I strode right up to her, lecturing her most sternly about eating my damned roses. She seemed mildly surprised, but not inclined to leave. I continued to berate her most firmly, providing clear explicit boundary-setting about my damned garden and my roses. She listened quite attentively, but did not acknowledge my points (I did not expect that she would). I threw my hands up in frustration, and raised my voice a bit “now just go, and stay out of my damned flower beds!” She darted away, paused, then strolled off into the trees, unimpressed by my ire. I’m quite certain I’ll have to have this talk with her again. lol

…Good coffee. I find myself wondering again how much longer coffee beans will be affordable to regular people…

I’m feeling a little cranky and blue, then I remember that as an individual person, I truly do have some things to celebrate on the 4th of July, and they are each “freedom” and independence related. It was 4th of July when I left my violent first marriage. It was 4th of July weekend when my Traveling Partner and I moved into our little house in Yamhill County. It was 4th of July weekend that the Anxious Adventurer arrived and moved in (one year ago), a truly helpful presence at a time when that was utterly necessary. There have probably been other milestones that fell on or near July 4th, that don’t immediately come to mind. Hell, I haven’t even always been so cranky about fireworks as I am now. lol We change as people over time, with all that we learn and experience in life. Our perspective changes. Our understanding of the world changes. Change is. I shake off my blue mood and have another sip of my coffee, noticing that a bluer bit of sky has begun to reveal itself. Promising; moments pass.

I breathe, exhale, and relax – and get ready to begin again. This path isn’t going to walk itself. 😉

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Categories 2024 Election, Allegories, anger, Anxiety, breathe, Free Will, Frustration, gardening, gratitude, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Roses, Summer, The Art of Being, War and News of War, Words

Starfish and Coffee

July 1, 2025 //
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I’m sipping an iced coffee and readying myself for the day ahead. I’m also browsing the pictures in the “gallery” app on my phone, and enjoying pleasant recollections of my recent day trip to the coast. I am thinking about goals and intentions, and forward momentum, and how different an object on the horizon looks compared to what I may see up close when I arrive at that destination – and how easy it can be for something along the way to distract me as I travel.

The horizon, a distant smudge. How far away is that?

I sigh out loud and rub my neck. My headache was with me when I woke this morning. It’ll probably be with me all day. Doesn’t matter, really, and there’s not much I can do about it. I breathe, exhale, and relax, and let that go.

A destination, a goal, and idea – what does it take to get there?

It’ll be another hot summer day, today. I’m okay with that. I’m grateful for the air conditioning that makes that a comfortable idea, at all. I’m fortunate to have that luxury available to me, and I sit with my gratitude for some little while, thinking about other times and places when I was not so fortunate.

Where we thought we’d like to go may be less achievable than we anticpated, or require more of us to reach than we planned. It’s okay to change our path – or to work for our goal. The choice is ours.

I feel a little tired before the day even begins, which surprises me, until I realize that there is this subtle awareness in the background of my thoughts of a world in chaos: genocides, acts of war, terrible cruelty, lives lost, lives wasted, and terrible people doing terrible things. Is my fatigue simply the unavoidable awareness wearing me down, or a sign that I am fighting that awareness too much with too little positive result? I think about that awhile, too, and ponder the critical need for skillful self-care. What do I need from myself this morning to nurture this fragile vessel and this valiant heart?

When I take a closer look, I am sometimes surprised by what I find. Definitely look closer (it’s a metaphor).

…For starters, I would do well to drink more water than coffee on such a hot day, eh? (I remind myself to get some water when I finish this.)

…Maybe make a point of getting up from my desk every hour and stretch or walk around a bit rather than sit here hyper-focused on work that absolutely can wait on a wee break. (I put a couple break intervals on my work calendar and mark myself “busy” for those, and set reminders so I don’t forget.)

…My mental and emotional health will benefit from reconnecting with distant friends, and checking in with those dear to me who are nearer, too. (I smile and think of people I enjoy and who are dear to me. I’m grateful there are so many.)

I sip my coffee content to have a forward path and some idea what sorts of things will nurture me and lift me up, that also easily fit into a busy work day. It’s a start. More often than not, a beginning is enough to get me going – if nothing else, it’s where I begin (again). 😀 That’s enough. The clock is ticking… it’s time to get on with it.

Big or small, we choose what we put our attention on – and our choices matter.
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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Summer, The Art of Being, War and News of War, weight loss secrets

Expectations? Meet Reality.

June 26, 2025 //
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It is the wee hours, and I’m awake. I haven’t yet fallen asleep, but I’ve enjoyed some lovely quiet time reading (re-reading a favorite classic, Siddhartha by Herman Hesse).

…I expected to fall asleep quickly.

An experience is very much what we make of it, and reality has no particular relationship to our expectations at all. I chuckle about it in the darkness. I’m unconcerned about having my device in front of my eyes right now, having dimmed the display to less than 25% and only “stopping by” while I drink some water and finish this cough drop to soothe my still irritated throat.

I was not wholly surprised to find myself wakeful. Different pain meds. Substantial changes in routine (to prepare for surgery), which included giving up supplements, and limiting or changing the timing of various medications and over-the-counter remedies. Of course I’m not asleep. I slept in this morning. I was drugged or unconscious much of the morning due to surgery. I slept for unmeasured hours after I was released to go home. Why would I even expect to actually be tired beyond the fatigue of injury itself? (Every healing surgery is also an experience of being injured, and systems interfered with!)

So. I’ve stirred myself enough to get some water. A cough drop. A change of position. (Picked another book, just in case sleeplessness persists.) I’ll meditate, then try sleep again and see where things stand when a new day dawns. That’ll be soon enough to begin again. First I need to take care of me (and brush aside these expectations cluttering things up my thinking, too, eh?).

Once upon a time there was a rose…

Morning of a new day. Why that picture? Because the damned deer ate my roses (again) and I was thinking about that during the night. I’d waited 4 years for that rose (Golden Opportunity) to bloom! I’m glad I got to see her. The deer only eat tender new growth… many roses bloom on new growth – you see the problem? Could be little cages for every rose next year except those that the deer don’t favor (I suspect they are either too thorny, or don’t taste good for some reason).

My cup of coffee is good this morning. Hot. Well and carefully made. Exactly as I like it. I’m grateful, but apparently I inconsiderately left the counter a mess (everything is just a bit more difficult with my left hand impaired, but that’s no excuse for not noticing that I had dripped coffee and grounds on the counter and failed to clean them up). So human. My Traveling Partner called it out with some annoyance; no one likes waking up to a mess. He was kind enough to clean it up as he made his own coffee. I’m annoyed with myself for leaving it, though. I hope our morning together is pleasant otherwise. I’m mostly myself this morning, but still recovering, and a little impaired. I remind myself to slow down and be patient with myself and alert to my surroundings.

I finally slept last night. I slept until I woke, much later than I generally would. My timing all feels off. It’ll pass. There’s no pressure; I’m off work today to recover. I take my time doing the budget and payday stuff; I’m typing with only 9 fingers, presently, and it feels awkward with the finger that is not available being an index finger. This will also pass. A lot of the details of our human experience are quite temporary. Too temporary for a lot of fuss and bother or agitation, generally. It’d be nice if that were an easier idea to hold onto in a stressful moment! It takes practice – and the practice is in the lived experiences; results will vary. I sip my coffee and think about that. We become what we practice – there is persistence implied, and continued repetition over time. Effort. Verbs. Will.

It’s pleasant to have a Greek yogurt drink (peach) with my coffee this morning. I didn’t enjoy having to go to “clear liquids” only, for the 24 hours before my surgery. lol It was more about the loss of the sensual delight in tasting something good, less about hunger or blood sugar – the Ozempic definitely did it’s job there. Turns out that, at least for me, the experience of food and meals and tasting things is one of life’s real joys, and the day felt stripped of something precious without it. It wasn’t actually a big deal, it’s just genuinely nice not having to go without, and I’m appreciating that. There is real value in taking a moment to appreciate something, to feel it, to enjoy it, to be in that moment, so I make it a point to do that. It has tended to result in an implicit experience of life as pleasant and positive, generally, instead of the bleakness and feeling of futility that once characterized how I experienced my life. A very good practice (for me) and a change I’m very glad I made.

Yesterday was quite nice, after the surgery. I mostly slept, but when I woke it was to an experience of being cared for. My Traveling Partner was wonderful, (going with me to my surgery, bringing me home and caring for me all day) and the Anxious Adventurer did his part as well (bringing me a very nice sorbet to soothe my throat on his way home from work and taking care of dishes and trash and housekeeping stuff), and it was so nice to chillax over silly videos and munch pizza together at dinner time. No idea what today holds, really, nothing complicated – I’m giving myself the best chance I can to heal well and thoroughly without complications. I use my hands a lot. I’m grateful to have the use of them.

I think things over another few minutes. I hear my partner call to me from the other room, checking on me. It’s time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, joy, Love, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Roses, Sleepless Nights, Summer, The Art of Being

Neutrality Isn’t Neutral

June 23, 2025 //
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We must always take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim.

Eli Weisel, on the occasion of the award of the Nobel Peace Prize in Oslo, December 10, 1986

There’s not a lot else to say about that, is there? There are definitely some topics, events, and circumstances that don’t leave room for “being neutral” or “staying out of it”, aren’t there? Genocide comes to mind as a good example. How can a rational, emotionally mature human being be for genocide, ever? Trying to rationalize heinous acts by redefining them doesn’t change the reality on the ground, does it? I’m sipping my coffee thinking about war, and genocide, and violence generally, yes and even the bullshit pettiness and poorly managed individual anger that can lead so many individual human beings to commit some of the most terrible acts imaginable against other human beings. We put so much effort into teaching children to read, to write, to do basic math – and so little into teaching critical thinking or emotional intelligence. There’s no requirement for human beings to be so cruel, greedy, cowardly, or dishonest – we work pretty fucking hard to develop those characteristics in our children, and to reinforce them in each other. I find that whole idea pretty grotesque, honestly. We could do better.

Are we standing on the precipice of WW3? Who decides whether global conflict has risen to that level? Who decides whether any particular conflict in the world in which one nation seems to be taking bold steps to completely wipe out the population of the other is clearly definable as a “genocide”? Why the hell would we ever try to rationalize, justify, or excuse such horrible acts? “They’re our ally, so what they’re doing is not genocide” is not a sound logical argument. I sigh to myself and sip my coffee. I keep expecting humanity to grow the fuck up and stop using conflict as a tool, if only because it is wasteful, costly, and lacks any really good return on investment. It’s unfortunate (even tragic) that human primates are such greedy fuckwits.

…I’m cranky over this shit, but there’s nothing much I can do about it beyond not being that, myself…

I’m back to the routine of work. It’s a Monday, and the day begins well in this corner of the world. Ordinary. But… I’m not oblivious to the goings on elsewhere. The pointless violent bullshit mayhem and nonsense going on elsewhere taints my pleasant morning and seeps into my awareness. I sigh again. My headache is manageable. My back pain isn’t noteworthy. The day is neither too hot nor too chilly. It’s not raining. There are no bombs dropping, here. Still, I’m cross about this shit, and I feel my chaos and damage loitering in the background. I was once a soldier on a battlefield. Another sigh. I don’t feel free to cry over it; I’ve got a week of work ahead of me, and only three days to do it. Busy life. Errands. Housekeeping. Making meals to feed my family. Tending my garden in spite of the fucking deer eating my damned roses (again). Putting away laundry. Catching up on work email. Staying on top of my task list and doing my damnedest not to forgot some important thing or another. It’s much. Right now it feels like “too much” and I am on the edge of fury – not because there’s anything wrong here, I just feel the weight of the world and my concerns about global conflict keep trying to spin up, causing my anxiety to flare up as latent anger.

I breathe, exhale, and relax – let all that go by an act of pure will, and try to begin again. I repeat this several times. It’s seems clear I’ll be having to work at managing this for awhile, since the asshats in Washington DC can’t seem to behave as rational adults. Fucking hell. War? Still? Really? I keep thinking we have what it takes to be better than this, then I remember the assorted bullies, grifters, and morons we’ve elected (time and again, honestly) – we have a long way to go. Stupid is just every-fucking-where. I’m so over it.

…But… I’m angry about it, not sad, not demoralized, not in a state of despair. I feel bitter. Cynical. Disappointed in humanity. Annoyed by greedy billionaires and politicians. Frustrated by our Dunning-Krueger government. And? It’s not something I can “fix” through some specific individual act. Hell, I can’t even prevent other seemingly intelligent people from supporting this craptacular boatload of bullshit. It’s all very irritating – and I am irritable as a result.

Breathe.

Exhale.

Relax.

Begin again. Don’t take anything personally. Do your own best. Practice non-attachment. Results may vary. We become what we practice. There are verbs involved.

I sip my coffee and let it go. Again. The clock is ticking. We could do better. I can at least do better myself through my own actions and choices. That’s going to have to be enough to get by on, maybe for awhile. I’m not telling you what to do or how to think, or even making suggestions. I’m just sitting with my thoughts on a Monday morning, annoyed with what a shit show the world happens to be presently, and practicing some self-soothing, as much as I reasonably can, and hoping that maybe it helps me get over my irritable mood. There’s really nothing going on right here, now, that would lead me to be so fucking cranky. I can do better.

So, I do. Again. Breathe, exhale, relax. Let it go. Repeat as needed.

The sun rose red on this new day. I don’t know that it means anything, but it was quite a spectacular sight as I drove in to the office. It’s a new day. A new opportunity to be the person I most want to be. I’ll have to keep practicing.

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Categories 2024 Election, Allegories, anger, Anxiety, breathe, Frustration, Logic & Reason, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Summer, The Art of Being, War and News of War
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