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Humans Are the F*ing Worst

February 14, 2024 //
1

I glare at my iced coffee for a moment. It’s a half-assed attempt at iced coffee, really, and I’ve already had enough coffee this morning. Still, I had a full cup of still very frozen ice, so I made a cup of strong coffee, let it stand until it was lukewarm, and then poured it over the ice. Simple enough. I haven’t even taken a sip of it yet, so I’m not sure why I made it.

The commute in was… fine. Traffic was light. Most of the people on the road drove safely, purposefully, and at the posted speed limit (maybe a couple miles per hour over it). It was fine. The few exceptions tended to be timid drivers staying in the right lane of two available lanes, and the occasional agro ass-clown driving so significantly over the speed limit as to be setting themselves up as “jack rabbits” – targets of attention making it possible for everyone else to just relax and drive knowing that asshole will be the one getting the ticket, if anyone does. Humans being human.

Human beings lie. Human beings cheat. Human beings act based on greed and entitlement. Human beings lash out violently in anger or based on a subjective feeling of having been transgressed upon. Human beings abandon children. Human beings bomb civilians. Human beings commit acts of violence against other human beings they claim to love. Human beings steal. Human beings attempt to stack the deck in their own favor without regard to the consequences to other human beings. Human beings rationalize and justify their worst behavior with convenient half-truths and bullshit. Human beings are too stupid to refrain from destroying the one planet they live on.

…Human beings are the fucking worst…

We could each (and all) do so much better than we commonly do. Just saying. Do better.

Yes, me too. Yes, you too. Yes, them over there? Them too. 100% of everyone could do better, I feel fairly certain, with the one possible exception of… babies. They’re doing their best every day just developing their cognitive skills, their sense of self and place in the world, and their ability to communicate – maybe help them out with that, and while you’re at it? Teach them ethics and critical thinking skills. Help them growing up knowing to do better – and knowing how.

…I make that sound so easy, right? lol I know, I know – how the fuck do we teach what we clearly don’t know? Tough one. Good luck. I know you’ll do your best, if it matters to you at all. Maybe it doesn’t matter to you? (See “human beings are the fucking worst”, above – I won’t be surprised if it doesn’t matter to you.)

G’damn that cup of iced coffee seems so unappealing now. Why did I even make that? I sigh out loud and wonder why I am in such an irritable mood? Decent commute. Even got to see my Traveling Partner (awake, I mean) and say good morning, and enjoy a kiss before I left for work. I’ve got this quiet, pleasant, comfortable space to work in, that even has a pleasing view of the park on the other side of the street. I’ve got a lot to be grateful for. I drive a car I like. The bills are paid. I have a job I enjoy and coworkers who are skilled and pleasant to work with. The weather has been mild. I’m not in too much pain to manage it today. So… wtf? Why this sour mood? 

I watch the sky slowly changing from the dark of night to the paler, bluer shades of morning-yet-to-come. All the ingredients of a lovely morning, but… here I am. My tinnitus is crazy loud this morning. My headache is… bad. Could be enough to wreck my generally jovial outlook, I suppose.

…On the other hand, human beings actually are the fucking worst, and isn’t that enough to make anyone irritable?

I finally take a sip of my coffee. It’s cold. It’s… coffee. It’s fine. I mean… it’s bitter, and not a great cup of coffee, but if it were my first, I’d be totally okay with it and probably find it entirely unremarkable, mostly. Probably wouldn’t complain about it at all. The complaining isn’t to do with the coffee, I recognize, it’s to do with the complainer – me. The human in the room. Like I said, we’re the fucking worst. lol It’s kind of a shame we’re what became the species acting as steward of this planet. We’re not very good at it, and we bitch about dumb shit way too fucking much.

I didn’t sleep well. Weird dreams. I went to bed at more or less my usual time, and woke shortly afterward from a nightmare that there was a spider in my CPAP mask (there wasn’t, but I did have to wake up and actually check). Later I had a nightmare that I’d forgotten all my passwords and none of them were saved. Later still, I had a nightmare that my Traveling Partner was… gone… and I was alone, penniless, unemployed, and quite old. I woke feeling chills all over, tears pouring down my face, and shivering from imagined cold in a room that was quite a comfortable temperature. (I was super glad to see my Traveling Partner awake in the living room when I got up!) Maybe the difficult night is the source of my poor mood? I guess that makes some sense.

Dreams are dreams, and emotions are not realities. I breathe, exhale, and relax, and work on letting all that go. It’s a new day. There were no spiders in my CPAP mask. My passwords are saved and I do remember those that I need most often, without difficulty. My Traveling Partner is very much a part of my life and I’m eager to see him at the end of the day. I’m alone, for now, but only because I am in this quiet work space, quite a bit earlier than my colleagues tend to start their days. As for being “old”, that’s pretty fucking subjective; I am the age I am. I don’t feel particularly young, but neither do I feel “old”. I’m somewhere in the middle. You know, like… literally “middle-aged”. LOL I shrug off the lingering affect of my poor night’s sleep… and begin again. 😀

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, Fiction, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, loneliness, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being, turning 60, War and News of War, winter

So It’s Murder, Then?

February 13, 2024 //
2

I’m sipping my coffee contentedly and watching daybreak slowly develop from the foggy night.

The fog adds a hint of mystery to a familiar view.

The sky is suddenly filled with bodies; a murder of crows rising from the trees, forming a vast murmuration that swirls betwixt and around the buildings that surround the park just beyond the window. Their cacophony fills the air, and I find myself wondering what they are saying about the morning. It’s a chilly one. Exceptionally cold compared to most Winter mornings this year at 32 degrees Fahrenheit, but still, just barely freezing. I’m comfortable and warm, and grateful for it.

I smile and sip my coffee. I think about words and language and why a flock of crows is called a “murder”? It’s a lovely quiet morning in most respects. It’s a pleasant one, too, and yesterday’s difficulties seem distant and mostly forgotten. Very human. So often whatever is “now” seems mostly to have “always been this way” – it’s a most peculiar cognitive error. I find myself wondering what purpose it serves (or once served a more primitive version of this human experience)?

My calendar is quite full today. I face it without any particular stress. It’s been a week of doctor’s appointments (largely a byproduct of once again having medical coverage through my employer – I’m catching up on things health-wise), but today is free of that “planned chaos”. I sigh quietly. I appreciate myself for having avoided scheduling something into every single day of this week. lol “Way to do the self-care thing properly!” I think to myself, encouragingly. (I’ve been working on taking a kinder tone with myself, and making a point of ensuring my internal monologue is more positive than it has tended to be, historically.)

The sky continues to lighten. The crows have settled into the trees once more – or moved on to parts unknown to do whatever it is that crows do at this hour of the morning. I wonder about that for a moment before moving on, myself.

I run my fingers through my hair and feel the softness of it. The sensation is a pleasant one, but reminds me that I’m overdue to get my hair cut. My bangs are all but gone, and my layers are growing out. lol Funny bit of vanity. I catch myself enthusiastically thinking about getting it cut today, then pull myself back and remind myself of the busy calendar I just reviewed. lol It would not go well for my planning if I squeezed a hair cut into the day – or week. Too much already planned. I think ahead to next week, and chuckle; I’ll likely forget all about it until the week is underway and already planned. It’s just not that important to me. I let it go; it’s something to deal with some other time.

What matters most? I sip my coffee and think ahead to Spring and hiking and camping and getting away out in the trees or on the high desert somewhere under a big sky. When? The weather has been rather mild (locally) this Winter. I wonder when Spring temperatures will be steadily above 50 at night and above 70 in the daytime? I sit thinking about it, eager to begin planning… The time is not now. Not because it’s too soon to plan, but because the sky reminds me that it is a new day. Somewhere beyond the fog the sun has risen, or soon will. The smooth homogenous gray of the sky beyond the windows reminds me that the work day has begun. Planning for another day, another adventure, can wait awhile; it’s already time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Practices, solo hiking, The Art of Being, winter

About That Careful Plan…?

February 9, 2024 //
0

I’m drinking water and preparing for dropping by the lab to provide a sample. My day was planned around medical stuff – mine and my Traveling Partner’s – and… I screwed up. I mean, not huge, but… I guess stupid finds us all, eventually. I somehow had managed to convince myself (like, a lifetime ago) that a fasting blood draw would nonetheless allow for, you know, morning coffee. For fucks’ sake, right? My Traveling Partner was kind about it, when he woke to the smell of coffee to find me contentedly sipping a very excellent cup of coffee first thing and expecting to go do the lab work. LOL Damn it. He patiently shared an article with me reinforcing his certainty that having coffee was a no-go. I admitted with some embarrassment that I had (literally)(my entire adult life) always gone ahead and had (black) coffee even on days when I had to do a fasting blood draw for some reason. LOL Omg.

…Make no mistake, stupid catches up with us all, eventually…

So, yeah. I pivoted to a more or less ordinary work day, with a plan to just do the urinalysis sample on my way home (it doesn’t seem smart to wait on what can be done today). I managed to sit down to a relatively full inbox and plenty to do, and managed to knock it out pretty quickly… as though I hadn’t just screwed up my entire actual plan. The plan is not the experience. The map is not the world. I began again, and here I am. It’s a pleasant day in spite of the bit of chaos I managed to add to it. 😀

I take a breath and exhale. I woke with this headache, and I wish that weren’t a part of the day, but it is and I’m dealing with it. I schedule first one new medical appointment and then another – either or both could be relevant to the headache, whose constant companionship I will not miss when it’s gone. I laugh at myself for feeling “so grownup” to be taking steps. Overdue.

I sigh and finish my bottle of water. It’s already time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being, turning 60, winter

Less Than Ideal is Okay Too

February 8, 2024 //
0

I’m groggy. I slept less than ideally well. The commute into the office was… fine. Traffic was heavy, and seemed peculiarly fast. I felt like I was running late (I wasn’t) and my timing even now feels a bit “off”. It’s less than ideal, just generally. I feel mostly comfortable in my skin, although I’m having to work to manage the pain I’m in this morning. It’s okay. It could be worse. My Traveling Partner woke me around 2:00 a.m., annoyed to be awake and letting me know that. I admit it, I was aggravated about being awakened (particularly since I wasn’t having the best night as it was, myself), but he was a super sweetheart 100% after that moment of annoyance, and it was lovely to see him before I left for work. The annoying moment and being awakened at 2:00 a.m. was less than ideal… but… in the grander scheme of things, it doesn’t amount to much.

…It’s just that kind of day…

Life is a funny mix of ups and downs, trauma and achievement, healing and hurting, convenience and inconvenience, ease and difficulty… and a day or moment that is “less than ideal” may still be pretty fucking fantastic in most regards, and surely isn’t “bad”. It’s pretty easy to overlook where “less than ideal” actually fits on a curve… think about it. “Less than ideal” is basically everything that isn’t “ideal” a characteristic that can be applied to damned few things. “Ideal” is perhaps not quite “perfect” (and nothing actually is, although some things may seem to get close)…so… “less than ideal”? Yeah, very little of that is going to actually be “bad”. Mostly it’ll end up being pretty fine, and generally okay. Something to think about. Perspective is funny that way.

…I’m still super groggy…

I sip my coffee sort of dragging myself through the morning. I look at my to-do list for today, and I’m surprised that I’ve knocked off easily a third of what I had planned for today, and I’ve only been at it a couple hours. The plan is not the experience. The map is not the world. The “less than ideal” sense of things is not an indication of success or failure – it’s just a feeling. 😀

I guess I’ll make another cup of coffee and begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, The Art of Being, winter

Letting It Be What It Is

February 7, 2024 //
0

This morning I am sipping my coffee contentedly, and watching daybreak become morning. No sunrise this morning. There’s a massive dark gray storm cloud blotting out the sky to the east, so dark that it almost appears that the sun must be rising from the west – the sky is that much lighter in that direction. Doesn’t change the quality of this cup of coffee. Doesn’t affect my mood, or the tasks ahead of me today. It is what it is. I’m okay with it; I am safe and comfortable and warm – and I’ve got this cup of coffee.

I woke easily, and a little early, and my commute was fine. Traffic was no heavier than any other day, and it was moving right along. I often felt as if I were the slowest thing on the road, which is not my usual experience, and I found myself checking my speedometer often, just to verify I was indeed going at least the speed limit. lol Strange morning. Nothing wrong with it – it just is.

Nothing about this morning is so strange that it’s worth commenting on, really. Ordinary morning. It’s pretty easy to “just let it be what it is” on a morning like this. I love these sorts of mornings; they give me a chance to practice some practices in a “safe context” with few challenges, which tends to make them feel more natural on days when I really need them most. Practicing “letting things be what they are” (non-attachment) and not taking things personally are practices that have a lot of value for me, but if I’m stressed to my breaking point, or feeling traumatized, they can be so much more difficult. It’s good to have plenty of practice, because when these become “skills” and “habits” as much as they are “practices”, then, when I need them most, they just are.

I sip my coffee. I breathe, exhale, relax, and consider the moment. I’m grateful for the quiet. Appreciative of the ease. I watch the dark gray storm clouds move over the city, slowly. It may rain. I’m okay with that, too. It is what it is. A little rain can’t stop me from beginning again. 😀

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