I’m sipping iced coffee on a mild rainy winter morning, waiting for a break in the rain. I don’t really like taking my walk in the rain. It’s definitely raining too hard to comfortably enjoy a walk. I sit listening to the raindrops on the roof of the car, and the cars wooshing by on the wet highway beyond the trailhead parking. Now and then the rain begins to diminish before resuming just as heavily as before. I wait.
I’m glad I got coffee on my way. I take a moment for gratitude, and to appreciate this simple luxury.
I glance at the news only long enough to regret doing so. Obvious profit-driven sponsored content and repetitive AI-written articles from the outrage machinery of corporate media fills my feed, and I feel almost fortunate; I am not tempted to explore further or continue scrolling. Why would I deliberately consume actual garbage? Well, I wouldn’t.
Two headlines catch my attention: DOGE wants access to private citizen IRS data (yeah, that’s every bit as horrifying as it sounds, and completely inappropriate, but likely to happen nonetheless), and someone wants Trump’s birthday to be a federal holiday. That one has me laughing a bit. I mean, sure, okay. First, what a dumb fucking idea, and I definitely rolled my eyes, but also, and here’s what got me laughing… How “fun” (?) to have a dedicated day of mourning for lives wrecked by government stupidity, bad decision-making, petty cruelty, and all manner of the ridiculous horrible chaos this administration has wrought? We could celebrate by wearing black, hosting resume writing parties, and attending civics seminars and civil rights protests! I’m still chuckling to myself. No way I’d celebrate that clown’s natal day any other way. What a petty, corrupt, vain, cruel, ignorant nitwit. America doesn’t really have a day for burning effigies… maybe we should?
I sigh to myself. When shit gets bad, humor is a lifeline to a better time. Don’t forget to laugh. Laughter is a very human thing. Also? Tyrants and mean people hate to be laughed at.
I breathe, exhale, and relax. I listen to the rain fall and make room to contemplate the joys in my life and to appreciate the things that are working out and going well. “Taking in the good” is a great practice for building lasting resilience and self-soothing in trying times. Finding perspective, and making a point of practicing non-attachment is another useful tool for limiting the likelihood that I’ll become swamped by some moment of despair.
We become what we practice.
I remind myself to also practice kindness, and patience. I’m not alone in being stressed out and frankly horrified by the ugliness being perpetrated by elected, or chosen, bad actors. Bringing compassion and understanding concern to my interactions with others will be helpful, and more likely to have a good outcome than snarling at them in some moment of frustration, fear, or doubt. I mean, for fucks sake the most basic civil rights are under attack. Pretty scary. I remind myself to speak truth to power, to raise my voice, to defend not only my own rights, but the rights of others, too. We’re all in this together.
I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s already time to begin again. There’s work to be done. Democracy is worth fighting for.
We’ve all got to walk our own mile. Sometimes it is a difficult journey. Sometimes we’re fortunate enough to share some portion of the journey with other travelers. The company we keep matters. A lot. Walking a difficult path alone may be a better choice than sharing the journey with those who wish you ill ( or even those who simply don’t care whether you stumble).
The way ahead may not be obvious. Conditions may be bleak.
I’ve never understood why someone would choose an unforgiving path in the company of the hostile, mean-spirited, cruel, or other ill-intentioned souls on life’s journey. Sometimes we happen upon such folk, our paths may cross, but why choose to endure miles shared alongside them? What value does it add beyond painful lessons learned? Won’t circumstances deliver enough of that without seeking it out?
Isn’t being alone and walking a solitary mile better than sharing the journey with someone who would mistreat you?
Walk on. Choose the company you keep with care.
It can be a cold and unforgiving journey without also sharing your hard miles with those who wish you ill, or who would misuse your gracious presence for their own ends.
We’ve all got to walk our own mile, whatever the weather. (It’s a metaphor.)
My steps on the trail make a crunching sound as I walk over what’s left of the snow. I feel the snow compress and yield beneath my weight with each step further. The air is clean and crisp, and feels strangely warm for 36°F. I feel comfortable in my warm sweater and my fleece. My steps feel purposeful as I walk through the fog along the marsh trail. Daybreak has come and the gray of the foggy morning changes hue. No colorful sunrise this morning. I have the trail to myself and I walk with my solitary thoughts, content to be alone.
I am grateful for a partnership that gives me such easy freedom to embrace solitary joy. My Traveling Partner has a standing invitation to join me on my morning walks, any time. (He’s more of an afternoon walk in the sunshine guy.) He doesn’t grudge me this solitary joy, and isn’t inclined to be out here on the foggy winter trail. I’m grateful to share the journey with such an understanding traveler.
My thoughts accompany me through the oak trees along the trail…
My thoughts wander. I smile recalling a time when I wore a favorite T-shirt that said “I don’t f* mean people” – and it was true then, and is still true now. I mean, why would I? Why would anyone? Isn’t it better to be alone? It’s a question I ask myself often, because I see so many people who seem uncomfortable with solitude. I don’t understand that, at all. Even my inner demons are better company than mean-spirited, cruel, or petty people. (I enjoy my own company quite a lot.)
Winter oaks, a foggy trail, and solitude.
I get back to the warmth of the car. Write a few words and reflect awhile on the quiet joy of a solitary mile in my own good company. The company we keep on this journey matters a lot. If you find you’d rather endure ill-intentioned companions than spend your time alone, that may be something worth reflecting on. You could be your own best friend. You could even walk a joyful solitary mile instead of enduring an unforgiving path in poorly chosen company. Isn’t it worth thinking about?
I breathe, exhale, and relax, sitting with my solitary thoughts, contentedly. It’s enough. I find quiet joy in this moment of solitude.
It has been worth it to step off the unforgiving path to walk a very different mile in well-chosen company – or solitude. Worth it to begin again.
I sip my coffee quietly, head aching. Back aching. Sort of “waiting on the next moment”, in the morning stillness. No walk, no commute, this morning, there are ice storms in the weather forecast and my Traveling Partner asked me to work from home, rather than worry about my safety on the road. So far this morning, the temperature is unexceptional, there is no rain falling (freezing or otherwise), and it’s a dry and clear winter morning. I did sleep in, though, which was quite nice.
My beloved wakes, and asks me if I would make his coffee and some breakfast? I step away from my desk, unsurprised, and do so, feeling contented and loved. He seems to be in a decent mood, but I can tell he’s also in pain. I remind myself to be patient and kind as the day wears on. As I make his coffee, I am reminded that the dishes need doing (hard to avoid that reminder; they’re in the sink, and I dislike that so intensely it’s hard to put words to it), and also that I have a prescription to pick up at the pharmacy if the weather holds out. Later. Later. I make myself some oatmeal, and get back to my desk and let my just-woke-up partner finishing waking up while he enjoys his breakfast.
It’s an ordinary enough morning, for one built on exceptions to the routine. In spite of the pain I’m in, I’m in a good mood, and feel pretty well-rested. Funny how much difference good sleep can make, isn’t it? I breathe, exhale, and relax. I take my morning medication. I eat my oatmeal. Walnuts and dried fruit with a bit of ginger, this morning, and it’s pretty good. My coffee is excellent. Good beans. Careful pour over that I made myself. It is, of course, precisely the way I like it. lol Sometimes little satisfying rituals, like making a cup of coffee “just so”, can be so intensely soul-nourishing. Definitely a fond practice, for me, although too often I rush through things or grab whatever coffee is near at hand and call it good enough – it’s not at all the same experience as taking the time and care to do it skillfully, with intention. There’s something to be learned in such things. Will I ever learn it? I hope I at least keep practicing. lol
I sip my coffee, grateful to have it. I am grateful for this warm cozy home, and the sound of my Traveling Partner getting his morning started in the other room. I’m grateful for this work space, which my partner set up with me in mind, measuring things and getting the ergonomics just right for me so I would be most comfortable, even on long work days. I’m grateful for the convenience and warmth of “quick cooking” oatmeal, and a pantry stocked with nuts and dried fruits and things with which to prepare meals. I am fortunate. It’s worth a moment of gratitude, however ordinary these things may seem. Running water. Indoor plumbing. A gas fireplace. Carpets and rugs over well-maintained floors. Electric lighting. You too? Probably – for most of these things – they aren’t all that out of the ordinary for a family in a small suburban home in the United States. It’s not a lavish life of luxury, generally speaking, although I have some things other people may not have for themselves, there are also a great many things some people have that I go without. There’s a variety of human experiences. I’ve lived worse off than I do now. Some people are by far better off than I find myself. It’s not a race or a competition, and I’m content to simply find my joy in sufficiency, and appreciate what I’ve got, without striving aggressively for luxuries “within view” but beyond my means. This is not a time for that. (Is it ever? Greed is an ugly quality.) There’s no knowing what the future holds, so I enjoy this “now” with appreciation and gratitude.
I sip my coffee and think about “the future”. With so much chaos, destruction, and despair in the world (and in this country) right now, it’s something I worry over a bit. What does the future hold? How do we create a world in which everyone can thrive? The wealth of the world would provide for us all, if it were not held in the hands of a small few who do not make use of it, just pile it up and point to their pile and remind us all how very privileged they are, while others struggle and suffer (and often at the hands of those very wealthy hoarders of privilege). It’s not a good look. I keep expecting humanity to do better. (Don’t you?)
I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s time to start the day. Time to do my own best, moment to moment. It’s time to begin again.
I’m sipping my fairly bad cup of office coffee. It’s not the worst coffee I’ve ever had, and the price is right (“free”, which is to say included in the office overhead and not obvious to me – nothing’s actually “free”). I sigh quietly. I can see the luminous disk of the full moon beyond the window. I turned off the light in this little office so that I can see it more clearly. It’s lovely and peaceful looking.
I take a minute to reflect with love, and considerable respect, on my Traveling Partner. He’s getting past just recovering from injury and surgery, and beginning to think more in terms of fitness and health more generally. He doesn’t panic – he makes the changes he needs to make. There’s something to be learned from this. It’s not an easy thing – there are still verbs involved. The thinking is sound. He brings his intentions and his will together, and does the work required to be the change he wants to make. He often makes such things “look easy”, although I know they aren’t. I’ve seen him grow a lot as a human being over the years, by choosing willful change and getting to work.
I sip my coffee and reflect on the opportunity his choices for change present for me as his partner. I feel a renewed sense of commitment to my own goals, and motivation to pursue change. We’re in this together. We’re each having our own experience. This morning I’m “feeling my years” more than I’d like to. I breathe, exhale, and relax. Piece together the frayed threads of my thoughts “about things, generally”. My head aches, but my back isn’t bothering me much, for now. My tinnitus is mostly drowned out by the sound of the ventilation, and by the way my earring aids amplify that. I pull myself more upright in my office chair, shifting uncomfortably. It’s not a comfortable sort of life, this human experience, is it? I frown briefly and let my thoughts move on.
…For a moment, I think about small mammals: squirrels, chipmunks, sugar gliders, dormice. No idea why. The “cuteness” of them, maybe? Maybe their resilience? They find ways to thrive on very little, in spite of the encroachment of human kind with its chaos and purposeful destruction. I find that interesting – and a little promising.
I let my thoughts wander to old friends, and remind myself to stay in touch. My thoughts wander to Spring, and I feel reassured that more likely than not it will arrive as expected, and it’s not too far off. I think about the seashore, and walking on the warm Atlantic beach with my Granny, or with my Dear Friend along the cold beaches of the Pacific. It’s been so long, but these are beautiful cherished memories worth enjoying now and then, for a moment.
I glare into my half-empty coffee mug. Cold already? Shit. I could sit here being annoyed about that, or I could “do the verbs” and solve the problem. It’s only a choice, a will to act, and an effort to be made. These are simple things. I think again about my Traveling Partner, and his strong will and willingness to act. I sigh, and smile to myself as I get to my feet…
I return to my desk, mug warm in my hand once more. It felt good to walk around, to stand, to stretch. To act. I could honestly just as easily lay down somewhere soft and go right back to sleep, maybe. (I feel that way in the moment, but I know that in practice it isn’t so easy for me to find sleep.) I find it somewhat challenging to find just the right balance between the soft comfort of ease and stillness, and the productive effort of doing and achieving. I’m generally satisfied if I can get all the needful things done without exhausting myself into immobility. I try to “pace myself” through planning and managing my time. My results vary. For now, I enjoy these quiet moments of morning solitude, grateful to have them. Grateful even for this crappy cup of office coffee, although I will admit it doesn’t “taste good” in any definable way – it’s just satisfyingly hot, and delivers an appropriate amount of caffeine for a workday morning. It has the comfort of the routine.
I think about anxiety, stress, and panic, and how much it can matter to slow down, to consider, to choose change, and to act. I breathe, exhale, and relax. This moment right here? It’s fine. I’m okay right now. For now the world within my view is quiet and calm. It’s enough, and I make room to appreciate it and to be grateful. Sometimes changing the world has to start very small, with a handful of choices, and a moment of action. Once this moment passes, what shall I do with the next?
I write my own words. I share my own thoughts. I don’t get grammar or spelling assistance from an AI tool, nor use one for research, and on the very rare occasions when I’ve made use of some instrusive AI summary, I’ve made a point of citing my source (you can see that on my About page from 2023, when I “tried out” ChatGPT when it was new). I think that’s important; I see using AI to write as a cheat. I see AI “content” in most media similarly; it is not “creative”, and it definitely is cheating (and often plagiarism and uncited content theft). Just my opinion, I suppose, but it is how I see things.
When you read my writing, I am communicating my thoughts, ideas, and insights to you, human being to human being. We’re sharing something which machinery (or an LLM) can not “understand”, because it lacks any understanding in the first place. Perhaps someday that will change and there will come an AI that is truly intelligent, capable of comprehension, observation, and real understanding. (When or if we get to that moment in time, then we’ll also get to worry about our potential unwillingness as a species to truly respect the sentience of other species which are not like us. I mean, whales, dolphins, elephants, and chinchillas should be enough to get us there, but we are not that smart, nor are we that compassionate nor open to others.)
For now, it’s me, here, writing my very own very human thoughts, spelling errors and excessive ellipses and all, and you, here, reading them.
Think I’m making too much of a small concern? Think “AI is here for us” and a “value to humankind”? Maybe think again – and try to see beyond the human greed driving most of the outcomes, presently – think about the impact on your own ability to think and to reason and to solve problems without AI tools. If you rely on AI, now, and lose that cheat code later, what then? Well, apparently the “what then” is something we may already have some insights into. A recent paper by Lee, Sarkar, Tankelevitch, Drosos, Rintel, Banks, and Wilson, April 2025 “The Impact of Generative AI on Critical Thinking” gives us some early assessments to consider. If you’d prefer to have something “easier to read” and already summarized for you, there’s an article by TechCrunch you can take a look at, too. Just saying; now is not the time to “get dumb” – definitely not intentionally! Those reading, critical thinking, and creative writing skills are all very much “use it or lose it” items on the cognitive menu. Choose wisely.
No AI here. That is intentional. This is me. Writing for human beings who are reading. Every word is real. (Every error is my own. lol)
If you abdicate your responsibility to think for yourself, to learn and grow and understand the world around you, to communicate your thoughts and share your ideas with others, how will you create the world you most wish to live in? How will you prevent the “bad actors” among us from doing their worst? “Why you?” If not you (and me, and each of us), then who? I’m just saying – there is no use waiting on a superhero to save us all. We’ll have to save ourselves, and each other. We’re all in this together. Do your best.
I sigh quietly to myself. Another work day. I sip my coffee, grateful that coffee is still something I have available to enjoy, for the time being. I skip reading the news after skimming the headlines. Nothing new, really, and it’s time best spent on other things. Truly. We’ve got to take care of ourselves, and take care of each other, and that sometimes means putting down the devices and going outside, reading real books, having real conversations, and being – not doomscrolling through our feeds, and panicking in between advertisements. Just saying, there really is life to be lived. I sit with thoughts of life and love for a few minutes.
My Traveling Partner restored a treasured antique that my Grandfather had given me many years ago, and returned it to me yesterday evening; I feel incredibly loved, and very fortunate. I’d wept when this much-loved keepsake had begun to fall apart, the shaped metal delaminating from the wood beneath it, the old glue had finally dissolved, or whatever glue does when it fails and goes away. I had hinted that perhaps if it could be repaired…? I didn’t really think it could be, and I “said good-bye” to it, a little heart-sick, but understanding principles of impermanence apply to all things. For years and years I’d kept certain precious things in it, and those things have been sitting sort of… clumped and “lost” looking on a shelf, waiting for a place of their own. This morning, I smiled when I saw the small metal “purse” sitting in it’s place on my shelf, with no clutter around it, precious things safely within it. I am indeed fortunate to be so loved. My beloved did such a careful job of repairing it, cleaning it up (without removing all of the patina), and returning it to me – just in time for Valentine’s Day. ❤
What love looks like.
I linger on the feelings and sip my coffee.
Yesterday evening, I had arrived home so tired. Heart heavy with the weight of the world, too. It’s too much. My Traveling Partner reminded me gently to avoid becoming mired in distant events, and to stay present here, now, in this moment, wrapped in the warmth and love of hearth and home. He was making a good point – one I make, myself, right here, often. It was a timely reminder. I needed it.
I tried my best not to be cross, and (on a hunch about what sorts of things might further lift my spirits) gently asked the Anxious Adventurer to do a thing for me, if he might have the time… some painting rails I’d been wanting to install in my room, and in the dining room, if he wasn’t too busy…maybe… He not only did this thing for me, he made a point of doing it more or less immediately (which I did not expect), and with some helpful guidance from my Traveling Partner about placement, I ended my evening putting new pastels where I can see them and enjoy them, and I found this lifted my spirits quite a lot. I’m grateful. (I’m less than ideally skilled with a drill, frankly, and I am happy that he had time to undertake this for me.) I smile over my coffee. I’d forgotten to get any pictures of the paintings on the painting rails, but I can picture them in my mind’s eye with such clarity. My smile deepens.
Gratitude and coffee – a great way to begin a morning. 😀
Don’t let the terrifying shit going on in the world become your entire experience. Breathe, exhale, relax, and enjoy your joy. Take care of yourself. Begin again.
Evening Light 