Archives for posts with tag: vote wisely

I’m at the trailhead, sitting at my halfway point in the predawn darkness. I woke too early, jerked from a sound sleep by my own anxiety. I dressed quietly and slipped out of the house without waking anyone (as far as I could tell).

Anxiety, 11″ x 24″, acrylic on canvas with ceramic details. 2010

Anxiety is a liar. At least, my anxiety generally has been. I’ve struggled with anxiety for all of my life that I can remember. It was once far worse than it ever is now, and I’m grateful to have better tools for dealing with it these days. A gentle, nonjudgmental, “body scan” confirms the suspicion that developed shortly after I woke; this may not even be anxiety, actually, I’m possibly “just” in pain. Because my osteoarthritis (in my spine) begins at my fusion and extends upward into my neck, it puts most of the intensity in approximately the same general area of my body that I would experience the physical elements of anxiety. I am prone to conflating or confusing them as a result. So maybe I’m not anxious at all? Using the right tool for a given task is important to success…

I breathe, exhale, and relax. Each subsequent deep breath and slow, complete exhalation would ordinarily begin reducing my anxiety almost immediately. Far less effective if what I’m fighting is actually physical pain being reinterpreted as anxiety. I’ve already taken my morning medications, and hopefully they begin being helpful soon. I shift uncomfortably and sigh. Yeah, this is pain. “Just” pain. I turn my attention to more appropriate self-care strategies.

It is a pleasant morning, not particularly chilly, nor rainy. The air is mild and fresh. A delicate sprinkling of rain fell very briefly, more a soft mist really, and it didn’t last. The darkness will soon give way to daybreak, and I’m in no hurry at all. I took today off from work. These quiet moments are mine – and so is the day ahead. I smile to myself in the dark. No drama. No chaos. “Nothing to see here”, and I like that just fine. The world is in chaos, I know, but these quiet personal moments for reflection and self-care matter every bit as much as which criminal cronies the corrupt cheeto-in-chief is going to pardon next. It matters more, probably, at least with regard to this one mortal life that I happen to be living, myself. (I just have to figure he’ll eventually get around to pardoning them all, he seems the sort to abuse that kind of power.)

I sigh and let that shit go. Sure, I’m disappointed in what Americans have allowed to fester within our government. I’m outraged and offended by the level of corruption in the current administration, and the ludicrous petty cruelty being demonstrated by people one might expect to know how to do better. It’s pretty horrible – and the horror is not reduced by also failing to take care of myself. Quite the contrary. Everything going on in the world feels more extreme when I fail to practice good self-care. So this morning I focus on that. No reason at all to even glance at the news this morning.

Another deep breath, another sigh. I can feel my pain medication beginning to help ease my pain, and as my pain recedes, my anxiety is further and further reduced. Daybreak comes, and the sky hints at a cloudy day ahead. The variable autumn weather definitely worsens my subjective experience of arthritis pain. Another sigh. Each one seems to somehow ease my pain in some small incremental way. As my pain eases, my attention broadens, and my world becomes bigger than this one moment here, now. I notice the treeline taking shape along the edge of the creek, beyond the vineyard. I see headlights sweep past as farm workers arrive to begin their day. I think about Thanksgiving, only a couple weeks away. I have a lot to be thankful for. I take time for gratitude while I sit watching daybreak become the dawn of a new day.

I catch myself smiling, feeling relaxed and merry. No work today. No time pressure at all, just a woman, a trail, and a moment. Later, I’ll head for coffee somewhere in town, and poke around in antique stores for a cool restoration project for my Traveling Partner. The day is mine, and I have clearly been needing a break. I’m glad I took one.

There’s always now.

When was the last time you took some time for yourself? Not time spent running errands or catching up on chores or long delayed projects – time for you. Time for self-reflection, for being, and for resting your mind is more what I’m asking about. If you haven’t been taking that time with (and for) yourself, why haven’t you? Won’t you be more capable and resilient if you take good care of yourself? It’s just a thought (and maybe a suggestion).

The sky begins to turn a soft shade of blue gray. No colorful sunrise this morning – but that doesn’t stop me from feeling grateful to see another day dawn. I am intensely grateful; I didn’t expect to get this far. On the other side of the trail, a plump racoon ambles along. She gives me a glance, and continues on her way, a single file line of youngsters following along. I smile. I am reminded that what we notice has a lot to do with what we are looking towards. We are each having our own experience, and in many ways, we’re creating it as we go.

… Choose wisely…

I sigh as I get to my feet, ready to finish my morning walk and begin a new day, again.

It was dark when I left the house for my walk. It’s still dark now. I decide to meditate and write before my walk, instead of during, or after. I’m not in any great hurry, this morning, and it would be helpful to shift my routine to begin and end just a bit later each day, if I can. (The local university library is open to the community, and is a very pleasant and convenient place to work, but doesn’t open until 08:00). I can definitely take a few minutes for myself, early in the morning.

This first week at the new job is going well. Expectations are high, and I feel comfortable with those; everything asked of me is within my abilities. I smile contentedly to myself. It’s also very nice to have found a new very local place to co-work that isn’t a cafe. I like being near to home in case my Traveling Partner is faced with some urgent need, though that’s quite rare now. It’s nice to get home after a busy work day without the experience of a long sometimes aggravating commute.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s just me, and this quiet moment, waiting for enough daylight to see the trail without a headlamp. The sky is already turning a deep bluer-than-black and the trees are clearly silhouetted.

A moment of quiet, a ticking clock.

I think about work, and life, and rest, and the ongoing challenge of finding balance midst the chaos. Still feels like the world is burning, and I’m deeply disappointed in American “democracy” every time I contemplate the shit storm that is the current “administration” – seems more like a clown car, driven by a rapid squirrel, full of angry weasels with a trunk full of explosives, headed straight into a fucking dumpster fire, but I’m sure my expectations that elected officials be both qualified and ethical is unreasonable. Fucking hell, do better, People. Cast your vote with at least a modicum of basic consideration for the consequences, if you are unable to choose wisely based on demonstrable truth. I’m so over all of the partisan bullshit, corruption, and self-serving bootlicking of billionaires and special interests.

I breathe deeply and exhale slowly, and let all of that go. Daybreak is here. The trail begins to reveal itself. I lace up my boots and grab my cane. It’s time to begin this new day, and follow my path where it leads.

So, hey, Memorial Day, yeah? Maybe you’ll barbecue with family, or perhaps you’ve been spending the weekend camping or traveling? Maybe, like me, just a long weekend spent more or less the usual way, at home? It is Memorial Day, though. Don’t forget to make time to reflect on the many lives lost to war – civilian lives, too. Lives lost to conflict, to genocide, to the ridiculous unwillingness of some in power to refrain from slaughtering innocents needlessly. The consequences of such things linger for generations. We could do better.

A Spring morning well-suited to reflection.

I started down the trail this morning, alone. The parking lot at the trailhead was empty, though it was much later than my usual time. Now, though, it’s almost crowded (meaning to say I’ve seen more than one other person walk past). I walked with my thoughts, mostly to do with fallen comrades of wars (cold and otherwise) that are in the distant seeming past. Memories. It’s been a decent year, in a sense; no new outreach alerting me that yet another old friend has taken their own life, unable to live with their memories, or the world as it is. It’s been awhile since I received such news.

I sit at my halfway point, reflecting on war – the pointless wastefulness and loss of life, the violence, the hate, and the lasting damage done. There are no “winners” in warfare. There are only the wealthy and the powerful (getting wealthier and more powerful), and the dead.

… Memorial Day sales are not the point of Memorial Day…

I sit watching clouds drift across the sky. I’m grateful that I have survived the wars I was sent to fight. I find room in my heart to honor the dead on both sides of those conflicts. There were no “good guys”, only fighting and chaos and killing and destruction. Ugly shit. Don’t go to war – the price is too high.

I sigh to myself, remembering. I’m okay though. Some years it’s been hard to face my memories and the losses left me feeling wounded and struggling with tears. Today not so much. What are one woman’s recollections of warfare in the face of ongoing actual genocides around the world? How do we even allow that to continue? Tough talk by idiot leaders is just performative puffery intended to convey strength by weak fools with too much power and fueled by greed (and, generally, also racism). Why do we permit it? It’s pretty ugly, and very wasteful. I have a pretty clear understanding of why leaders and governments participate in warfare – there’s quite a lot of money to be made, and wow, so much useful material for manipulating a population develops out of conflict. Do I sound cynical? I’ve been to war. I’ve stared into the eyes of the god of war. I’ve been “part of the machine”.

… I still consider myself a patriot, and in spite of trauma and the personal price I paid, I don’t regret serving my country, only that we continue to fight wars…

never forget

I think about “honor” and “valor” and “heroism” and ethical service to a cause, and wonder, again, why so many of us have to stare death in the face personally to understand that there is no honor in war… Only killing and death and destruction. The price paid in lives lost is too high.

My Traveling Partner pings me a good morning greeting. There is hope in the world because love exists. I smile to myself, and get ready to begin again.

I’m sipping my coffee and thinking about words this morning. My coffee is seriously pretty damned dreadful, and the words I’m thinking over can be vexingly easy to misuse.

People are pecular, and inclined to misattribute what is going on within themselves (or externally) to some cause or another without even a casual fact-check. Humans being human; we are prone to assign “blame”. We think we know the how or why of a circumstance and we decide who or what is at fault based on our “knowledge”. Sometimes we think the fault is our own, and possibly accept responsibility for some event or circumstance, maybe even seeking to make amends for some thing we think we’ve done. Other times, it’s someone else deciding who or what they think is at fault for some situation or event, and they put the responsibility with that individual or group or entity, assign blame, perhaps demand accountability or redress of perceived wrongs. It’s strange stuff, most particularly because it’s often quite subjective, not well-researched, even thoroughly fallacious (or just fucking wrong). We human beings make a rather ridiculous number of assumptions, are exceedingly “gifted” at flawed reasoning, and confirmation bias, as well as offensively fond of maintaining a self-righteous grip on some dumbass notion without regard to any sort of fact-checking. We like being “right”, and we’re often willing to believe we are in spite of mountains of readily available evidence to the contrary. Fucking dumb. Humans being human.

I keep sipping my dreadful coffee. “Why do I do this to myself?”, I wonder, vaguely amused. I could totally go back to the break area and make a better cup of coffee. Instead I continute to sit with my coffee and my thoughts.

When I was much younger, I was often willing to expend a lot of energy arguing against stupidity (or lies). I rarely do now. It’s not that I’m not amused/offended/discouraged by apparent idiocy – totally am – I just… don’t feel I have the time to waste on that, these days. I have a life to live, and it is finite and mortal. I’d rather let wrong-headed bullshit go, and just move on (and potentially simply reduce contact with people perpetually inclined toward lies, stupidity, or negativity). I’d rather just not hang out with someone who is fond of conspiratorial bullshit than argue the point. I’d rather just smile and maintain a comfortable distance or an agreeable presence in the face of someone insisting on being wrong about something for which there is definitely evidence for a different opinion, than fuss over minutiae that may not truly matter for enjoying a moment together as people. It’s not that I don’t enjoy “being right” as much as the next person… I don’t enjoy expending energy fighting for it. If you think differently than I do, but don’t violate my personhood along the way (or anyone else’s), why do I care? You’re free to be wrong. Generally speaking, this seems a win, to me – being accepting, being tolerant, being okay with uncertainty or even being wrong. Only…

…I’m reading “On Tyranny“, and the author makes several very solid cases for specific circumstances in which being accepting or “agreeable” is not a good thing. Something to think about, and I sit with my coffee this morning thinking about words, thinking about ethics, and thinking about the potential risk in being too accepting or too tolerant, under a variety of circumstances. Definitely worth thinking about.

…Although, keeping it real? This doesn’t feel like a world where we’re all at tremendous risk from being “too tolerant” most of the time…

Sometimes there’s real personal risk involved in tolerantily accepting blame (or inaccuracy, errors, or lies) rather than arguing a point. Tolerance is virtuous – unless it is tolerance of actual evil. Real damage can be done. Words have meaning, how we use them matters. The world is complicated, and there’s surely room for many thinkers and many opinions, but there is only one actual reality, one world we all live in, one set of provable, demonstrable, documentable, actual facts – and a lot of people willing to undermine that reality to bolster a narrative that they prefer (whether for power or for profit). Real people can really get hurt. I could become one of those. So could you.

I sip my coffee grateful for this quiet moment of solitude. Right here, right now, there’s just me, this moment, and this dreadful cup of coffee. It’s on okay moment. I’m okay with the bad coffee; it’s real. It’s authentically crappy, and it is what it is. There’s nothing to argue about, and nothing to fear in being honest about it. No particular harm in it. Nothing controversial about a bad cup of coffee – unless perhaps I’m ready to go down the ethical rabbit hole of “should we be drinking coffee at all, considering the terrible exploitation of coffee growers?”. I sigh quietly. Shit is complicated when we “zoom out” and take in a bigger picture.

Reality is what it is. Reality doesn’t care what I believe (or what you believe), or whatever bullshit notions I may be inclined to cling to. Facts don’t lie – but it’s damnably easy to be wrong about whatever conclusions are drawn from them. Another sigh. Another sip of dreadful coffee. My thoughts don’t change anything this morning, and it’s time to begin again.

…Maybe a cup of tea, instead?