Archives for posts with tag: read a book

Living, Loving, Learning

June 8, 2026 //

I woke early, but later than usual. I didn’t sleep deeply through the night, but I got the rest I need and I feel pretty good aside from a predictable amount of arthritis pain; I woke to a rainy Spring morning, no surprise. I reach the trailhead delighted that the rain is still a sprinkle that won’t slow me down.

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

… What an excellent weekend…

My beloved gave me a couple more birthday gifts and I’m feeling so loved by this twist on a birthday celebration (instead of gifts all at once on the actual date that is my birthday, a gift every day of the 12 days leading up to it). It’s been lovely to receive some books, too – one replacing a book lost when I left an ex, one to instruct me on the basics of chess, others that I’ve been wanting very much to read. Books are an amazing gift for anyone who enjoys reading. I make a neat stack of the books I haven’t yet read. They’ll be properly shelved once they are read, one by one.

Seriously, I really like books. I read. I definitely find it more useful to read from bound books. Reading on digital platforms and devices doesn’t seem as effective for learning or comprehension, somehow, at least not for deep learning. It’s more a quick lookup resource suited to answering a question or finding information. From there, if I’m interested in a deeper dive, I go to bound books.

As I walked I reflected on the books that have meant most to me over the years. I have most of those, on one shelf or another. My books are among my most cherished possessions.

There’s more to life than what can be found between the pages of a book.

I get to my halfway point still smiling. The sprinkle of rain threatens to become more then gives up. It’s an ordinary enough Monday. I smile thinking about the weekend. I got in some lovely miles on beautiful trails. I enjoyed them so much I’m planning to make each of these my routine on the weekends for some little while, maybe through the summer.

… Variety and novelty keep things interesting…

The sun rises, shining golden through a gap in the clouds, and illuminating the oaks along this trail. Pulling my attention back to here, now, and this moment.

It’s a pretty good moment for a beginning.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I enjoy a few minutes of meditation. I feel calm and capable, and ready for the day. I sigh contentedly, feeling a momentary (and entirely temporary) feeling that it never has to be more complicated than this. Feels good. It’s not a feeling that lasts, and I’m okay with that. Emotions are impermanent. As with moments, they are brief and often pass very quickly. Love is one of the few that tends to hang around, if made welcome. My heart fills with love and gratitude when I think of my beloved Traveling Partner. I feel fortunate to share so much of life’s journey with him.

Take it at your own pace. Incremental change over time adds up. We become what we practice, however slowly.

I sit awhile thinking about change and this personal journey that is one human life. There’s been much to learn – and somehow that never really changes. There’s always more. This adventure isn’t about mastery at all. It’s more to do with endurance and becoming something more over time than who we were at the start. This journey changes us. That’s the point. The journey is the destination. Where does your path lead? Is that where you want to go?

What you find along the way may depend a lot on what you’re looking for (or at).

I take a deep breath and exhale slowly, tasting the hint of rain on the Spring air. It’s time I got going. The clock is ticking and this path isn’t going to walk itself. 😆 I stretch and get to my feet. My next steps are waiting.

Tags ACT, be here now, begin again, breathe exhale relax, CBT, forest bathing, meditation, new trails, No AI, non attachment, read a book, results may vary, self-care, self-reflection, sit happens, use only as directed, walk on, we become what we practice, what are you looking at?, what are you practicing?

Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, women, Words

AI and the Myth of Falling Behind

April 15, 2026 //

It is a lovely Spring morning, and it begins well. The rain stopped just as I got to the trailhead. Daybreak arrived soon after I did.

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

I enjoyed a pleasant moment with my Traveling Partner over coffee, and it is payday. A promising beginning to the day. I’ve even got a manicure appointment later, and managed to go almost 5 weeks since my last one without my cuticles tearing and without picking at my fingers. Major win.

What makes a moment? Mostly what we feel about it.

I get to my halfway point thinking about AI and the number of companies forcing that crap into every app, and every customer portal. It has degraded my experience of everything it touches. I’m frustrated by that, but more and more often I am also (rather cynically) amused. My amusement is mostly to do with the humorous notion that anyone needs to work to “keep up with” peers and colleagues using AI tools. No keeping up necessary. I’m watching their cognitive skills erode in real-time, instead. Wild.

Where AI most often vexes me presently is in the predictive auto-complete function in some applications where some amount of writing is required. I had gotten used to algorithms that specifically learned from my own use of language. At some recent point, it clearly changed, and now it is just… fucking wrong, a lot. It would be hilarious if it weren’t so annoying. It slows me down having to correct that shit constantly. I have my own voice, my own style, and I make my own mistakes in both grammar and spelling. Fuck AI. Who needs it? I’m not looking to sound like anyone else.

I chuckle to myself. I’ve no interest in wasting precious mortal lifetime writing prompts. I’d rather just write, and so I do. Similarly, I’ll do my own shopping, choose recipes without assistance, figure out a route for some road trip without AI, answer a friend’s text or a work email by actually simply typing my reply… I find it worthwhile to use my own mind. It is quite clear that these skills fit into the set of things in human life that are “use it or lose it”, but it is also clear that a lot of people won’t really understand that until they are no longer able to answer a simple question about themselves without asking a slopbot. That’s pretty sad. I make a note to buy more books and read them, and to spend time finishing the book I’m reading now.

The sky lightens. There is a new day ahead, filled with opportunities and choices. I smile, thinking of the garden. It’s time to plant starts and make that fence to go around the veggie bed to keep the deer from feasting on seedlings and topping all my tomatoes and peppers, this year. I have a plan.

I watch the clouds separate into lines and streaks as dawn becomes day. Beautiful blue sky shows through the breaks in the clouds. I feel like painting. This too I do without AI, pastels between my fingertips, eyes on the work, and an idea in mind. AI has no place in art. My opinion, of course, and no AI was required to think the thoughts that brought me to that conclusion.

I sigh happily to myself, enjoying this moment. No AI would be useful for that, either, and isn’t simple enjoyment of a moment one of the most fundamental human experiences? I definitely don’t feel as if I’m at risk of falling behind because I have no appreciation of (or use for) AI or LLM tools.

I glance at the time, reluctant to walk on down the path. I am enjoying this moment right here, now… but it is time to begin again.

Tags ACT, AI helping humanity become mediocre and stupid, AI slop, be here now, begin again, CBT, choose wisely, choose your path, contentment, do your own homework, don't be stupid, meditation, No AI, planting my own garden, preserve critical thinking skills, read a book, slopbots, sufficiency, take a walk, think for yourself, we become what we practice

Categories Allegories, art and the artist, breathe, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, Logic & Reason, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Practices, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, thoughts on AI, Words

We’re Choosing

February 16, 2026 //

I started down the trail just as my Traveling Partner pinged me a good morning greeting. I slept in this morning (third day in a row) and it was daylight when I left the house. I definitely prefer walking in daylight.

It is a gray mild morning that barely looks like winter and feels more like Spring. The grass between the vineyard rows is quite green. The distant hills are shades of blue and gray-green, fluffy white clouds nestled in valleys, obscuring the horizon. There are little birds flitting here and there in the grass beside the trail and among the bare tree branches. The adjacent construction site is busy and noisy; I’m unlikely to see deer this morning.

I walked with my thoughts to my halfway point and took a seat. Here I sit with my thoughts, and this sweet solitary moment. Damn, I wish I weren’t in so much pain, though! I sigh to myself. It’s “just” my arthritis this morning, so far. Manageable, for the moment.

I contemplate two clinicians in my life presently. One, my GP, the other my therapist. I am thinking over their very different points of view on digital tools and what that means to me. My GP regularly promotes one app or another for tracking this or that health concern, sometimes dismissing my ability or willingness to track those details without an invasive digital crutch. My therapist, on the other hand, relatively consistently emphasizes the importance of real-world interactions, presence, and analog tools – like pen and paper. (CBT practices definitely have to be practiced in the real world to be effective.)

In a recent conversation, my therapist asked me about creative and contemplative outlets, and when I referenced this writing, he gently reminded me that however authentic and true to my experience, it hardly serves as an outlet for my most private thoughts. He’s not wrong about that. When I later mentioned it to my Traveling Partner he nodded in that affirming way that suggests “well, obviously…” For a woman who once wrote perhaps three times as much, daily, putting personal reflections on page after page, filling blank book after blank book, it is perhaps not enough to limit my writing to this blog and…work.

I got some really cool stickers at Giftmas time, and for Valentine’s Day my beloved got me more delightful stickers of favorite characters (Bubu and Dudu). I carefully shopped for a blank book with specific characteristics I like for writing: size B5, bound so that it opens flat without breaking the binding, a cover that appeals to a certain something within me that feels relevant to the journey, and a type of paper that feels good to write on. No compromises; I shopped for many weeks until I found what I was looking for. Even the ballpoint pens were carefully chosen to meet my needs and suit my preferences and writing style.

… Stickers and penmanship…

It’s been rather a long while since I wrote my thoughts on actual paper. Doing so serves a different function and meets different needs. I fussed silently over matters of perfection when I contemplated the first page, and of course I immediately made a small mistake (messy handwriting) and crossed it out. Then placed a sticker ever so slightly crooked on the page, enough to annoy me, simultaneously confirming the quality of the adhesive – I can’t remove it to place it straight on the page. I laughed when I saw it this morning. I hope I always laugh when I see it. I’m very human. It is an unimportant detail in the grander scheme of things, and a good lesson.

I didn’t actually write anything yesterday evening, just put a few words on the title page with some meaningful stickers. That was enough.

I think about AI slop and platform decay. I think about how easily practical skills (like handwriting) erode when we don’t use them regularly. AI isn’t helpful for most people; it undermines their cognitive abilities while giving a false sense of achievement. Sure, it’s definitely going to take longer to learn to draw, paint, and animate images using analog tools in the real world, but once we have, we’ve really learned something. Practical real-world skills using actual tools and materials with our own hands is powerful.

Read a real book. Make something real, in the real world. Plant a garden (or a pot of herbs). Sing a song. Walk a trail. Cook a meal. Advance human knowledge. Do something. It’s not about working productively or “gainful employment”, or shareholder profits. It is about living life. An LLM can’t do that for you.

… Your results may vary…

I sigh to myself. Lovely morning. I think about the day ahead. I think about the blank pages of this blank book. It’s a useful metaphor. What will I write on these pages? It is my journey, my story, and I will write each word by hand, myself. There’s a lot of potential and a lot of freedom in that… What will I do with it?

The clock is ticking. I have another opportunity to begin again. What about you? What will you write on your blank page? (It’s a metaphor.)

Tags a good ballpoint pen, advancing human knowledge, AI has no comprehension, be here now, begin again, breathe exhale relax, humans being human, IRL, living life, make something, No AI, penmanship, read a book, the pen is mightier, use your words, Vita Contemplativa, write it down

Categories Allegories, Anxiety, art and the artist, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, The Art of Being, The Big 5, thoughts on AI, winter, Words

Book Learning

January 19, 2026 //

I can remember my father mocking people who lacked “real skills” but who were also educated people with college degrees. He had no fondness for abstract intellectualism that could not get anything done in the world in a practical sense. It’s a fairly commonplace perspective, frequently held by practical minded working people, perhaps to secure a sense of achievement in spite of the lack of a degree. Memorized facts without comprehension aren’t particularly useful, generally. Applying knowledge in the real world can create change.

Why do I mention it? I mean, it’s probably pretty obvious that “book learning” alone doesn’t amount to understanding a topic deeply or being able to make suitable use of the knowledge. I watched a video yesterday talking about the increasing lack of ability to read that seems to be developing in young cohorts of students (in the US). Book learning isn’t all there is to education, but g’damn reading is a pretty critical life skill, and if our youngsters receiving their education aren’t learning to read, we’ve got a real problem ahead. Traffic signs, price tags, menus, clocks, rental agreements, job offers…we need to read a lot of things, and recognizing shapes and colors is not an adequate substitute for reading comprehension.

Books can be filled with practical information.

Why learn to read when an LLM can read a summary aloud and save us the bother? (Why learn math when there’s a calculator always at hand?) I struggle with why these would be questions, but I remember teachers answering my own youthful “why learn math?” question by trying to give examples of the raw power and utility of having a basic understanding of math. One truth that is more important than any one example and might have been more persuasive; we need to learn math (and reading) to develop problem solving skills, and for depth and nuance in our understanding of the world. We need these skills to support our ability to think critically and recognize misinformation. If we lose our ability to read we become dependent on spoken opinion, and susceptible to marketing hype and outrageous lies by politicians and pundits.

I am fortunate to enjoy reading, myself. (It took me awhile to come around to the legitimate value in math, but eventually I got there, too.) I am happily reading The Stand, a gift from my Traveling Partner. I prefer to read the news rather than watch it. I can’t actually imagine not being able to read. If nothing else, the amount of paperwork required in life would be far less manageable if I couldn’t read the forms!

Thanks for being here, by the way. If you’re reading these words, now, I’m grateful that you are literate. (Not only because you’re reading what I wrote, but also because you can.) One day you may be considered to be among the elite intellectuals of the world, simply because you can read, at all.

Books are the software upgrades for our minds.

I sit at my halfway point on this trail, watching Venus setting slowly on the western horizon. I spotted it one morning some time ago and looked up what this very bright “star” might be. I read about it. Now I gaze upon Venus with even greater wonder and appreciation. I smile to myself, eagerly considering spending the day reading. Maybe I’ll pull a cookbook from my shelf and peruse the recipes and bake something? Seems a good day for it. I could spend more time writing, later – I hear snail mail is making a comeback as a hobby or lifestyle choice. Promising.

… I’m not pointing fingers or being critical of the shortcomings of other people. I’m quite human myself, and some of life’s critical skills fade with disuse. My handwriting (pen and ink on paper) has gotten pretty dreadful because I don’t often pick up a pen these days. Practice would be helpful. Letter writing has potential, with that in mind. I think fondly back to my great-grandmother, who lived well past 100 years. She wrote letters to friends every day. I used to write a lot of letters… until email and the Internet and the convenience of a keyboard intervened. Creeping incompetence – and I don’t have to succumb to it. I have choices and the freedom to choose change.

Anyway. Read a book. Don’t let that skill erode away completely! You definitely really need to be able to read. Reality can be unforgiving, and doesn’t accommodate ignorance in any gentle way.

I sigh to myself as Venus dips below the treetops. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I contemplate all the many books I’ve read, and the many more I have yet to read. The books on my reading list have guided me along my path. I doubt I could have come so far so quickly without them, and AI summaries would not have been enough to teach me what I needed to learn.

The first hint of daybreak touches the sky. Is it already time to begin again?

Tags AI has no comprehension, be here now, begin again, bound books, CBT, critical life skills, critical thinking, learn to read, meditation, practicing the practices, read a book, read banned books, reading comprehension, recommended reading, teach your baby to read, what are you reading?, words have meaning, words on a page

Categories art and the artist, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, The Art of Being, War and News of War, weight loss secrets, Words

Love and Luxury

January 10, 2026 //

He asked me “what’s your plan for tomorrow?” I replied with a short summary of a fairly typical morning for me, I’d dress when I woke, head out quietly for a walk, and stop at the store on my way home afterward. He looked at me with a very serious look, and a lot of love. “I don’t like the idea of you being out so early in the cold and the dark, that can’t be good for you after being sick, and with your arthritis. I read your blog, you know.” (That was the gist of it, I’m sure I’ve gotten the words a little wrong.) He asked me to consider staying home, waking up whenever, and having coffee before I get started doing things out of the house. I’ll admit, it’s an idea I enjoy. I love a leisurely morning over my coffee, and some writing, embraced in the warmth of “home”. I agree that I will stay home and have my morning coffee before I got out…and I did. (Well, I am.)

…This is definitely a better cup of coffee, and the soft lo-fi in the background is lovely, too…

What a luxury this is! I mean, it’s such a simple thing, but I feel very loved, and I am enjoying the morning. No tinnitus. I just now noticed that these noise cancelling headphones with the right music playing do a pretty sweet job of masking it. If I focus on it, I can still hear it, but otherwise it fades into the background, dim and unnoticed. Good coffee. Quiet morning. I breathe, exhale, and relax, and savor this simple luxury. Weekends.

I love a weekend. I’ve got this book, too. I’m already so eager to read it that I’ve set aside “A Canticle for Leibowitz“, which I got for Giftmas. I can pick it up again after I read “The Stand (1990 complete and uncut edition)“. I choke briefly on a sigh that became a chuckle; “too many books to read” feels like a fun problem to have. lol It is quite possibly one of my favorite “problems”. I think fondly back to walking to the local library each summer (often) and returning from hours among the aisles of shelves with an armful of books. I spent so many long summer days quietly reading, uninterrupted as I visited far off places and other lives through those pages. It was the 1970s, and even at nine years old, I was allowed to walk to the library alone (it was only half a mile), and had my own library card. By the time I was 12, I was reading from the adult section, too, although the librarian always double-checked that I wasn’t checking out something wildly inappropriate (I was 13 before she let me check out books by Anaïs Nin or Henry Miller).

When I deployed for Desert Shield, in the summer of 1990, I tucked books into small spaces here and there in the maintenance truck I loaded for transport to our destination. I filled my own footlocker with books (and my cribbage board, a monopoly set, and assorted sundries – which turned out to have been an excellent idea, later). I took quite a few books, and they passed through many hands over those many weeks and months of deployment, once the other people in my unit were aware of them. Even people who might otherwise not ever pick up a book, found themselves purusing my wee “library” after some time spent well and truly bored. War may be hell (it definitely is) – but it can also be quite boring between the moments of chaos, destruction, violence, or terror.

After I’d left the military, and while I was leaving my first marriage, I hurriedly boxed up the books I had, and put them on the truck, discovering only later (as my Granny helped me unpack into my new apartment) that quite a few of my precious books were missing – and all of my Heinlein books (a complete set of first editions) were among those missing books. Later my ex bragged about grabbing boxes from the truck while my Granny and I were loading it, and burning my books (and my high-heeled shoes – wth?) out of anger and spite, knowing they were precious to me. The books mattered to me more than his senseless destructive bullshit, and I cried – and replaced what I could, over time. I had very little furniture, and here and there stacks of books served as “side tables”, nightstands, or a place upon which to put a small lamp, for quite a while, until after the construction season picked up again, and I could afford some second hand furniture. Life lived, achievements unlocked. Hopefully I learned some things from it.

I like books. Real bound books. Before the Anxious Adventurer moved in, I had a small library here at home – a room set up specifically as a place to read, shelves and books lining the walls. I miss it. I don’t grudge him the space – and I’d rather not have him bedding down in some temporary arrangement in the livingroom or garage; those spaces have their purposes, here, already. Instead, we added the hutch and bookshelves in the dining room, and now my lovely breakables have a place where they can be seen (even used), and more space for books. It’s beautiful. It’s hard to be bothered by any of that, at all. Eventually, the Anxious Adventurer will make his own way in the world, and get his own place (sooner than later, at this point), and I’ll have that room back, and even gain additional space for books thereby. Neat. 😀

Do I sound “too excited” about a book or two? I probably am. But if we lost the internet completely for one reason or another, these bound books in my hands will still be as they are – and worth reading, even if only as a happy means of whiling away an hour or two of boredom. Read a book! There are so many. 😀

I breathe, exhale, and relax. My Traveling Partner looks in on me. We exchange a handful of words. I look at the time. It’s already time to get on with the morning. I smile to myself, feeling relaxed and loved, and ready to begin again.

Tags A Canticle for Leibowitz, banned books, begin again, breathe exhale relax, CBT, do you?, emotional self sufficiency, enjoy the moment, Gnothi seauton, health, Ichi-go ichi-e, meditation, mental-health, mindfulness, perspective, practicing the practices, ptsd, read a book, self-care, take a break, taking care of me, The Art of Being, The Stand, there are verbs involved

Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, joy, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being, The Big 5, War and News of War, winter, women, Words

Living, Loving, Learning

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AI and the Myth of Falling Behind

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We’re Choosing

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Book Learning

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Love and Luxury

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