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This Ringing In My Ears

January 4, 2026 //
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My tinnitus has nothing to do with anything else going on, at all, it’s just there, and I happened to notice, and it seems like the sort of “understandable thing that is” that I experience as relatively mundane and ordinary, which in contrast with the craziness of the world (quite specifically, the USA) is almost a relief.

Yep. I’d rather deal with my tinnitus than with having to accept that powerful people in the US government would very much like to make the Epstein files “just go away” by any means available, which seems pretty gross and thoroughly distasteful and indecent. What about justice, though? I’d rather deal with my tinnitus than come to terms with this adminstration pretty much just storming into its own cities arresting and assaulting its own citizens (yes, even actual born-right-here citizens) on thoroughly bogus pretexts. I’d rather deal with my tinnitus than with obvious corruption in our government. I’d rather deal with my tinnitus than watch the USA kidnap the president of a foreign country on whatever bullshit excuse-making can be developed on the fly. Venezuela? Really? Hopefully we’ve all seen enough by now to recognize that this government is not made up of ethical committed professionals who seek to govern skillfully for the benefit of all citizens. It just isn’t.

…Fuck this tinnitus though…

…And also fuck censorship, and fuck corporate greed, and fuck dark money in politics, and fuck politicians enriching themselves in office. Fuck sexism, racism, nationalism, and just generally most ~isms, since they seem reliably poorly thought out and highly likely to hurt more people than they solve any kind of problems. Tools to control populations by ensnaring them in the illusion of shared values. Fuck AI and fuck billionaires, too. Vaporware, AI slop and wealth-hoarding are not going to build a better world. We’re overdue to figure out a better approach to global trade, culture, and society. We’ve surely got the means to do better (and for more people), and it’s pretty ugly that what seems to be holding us back, more than anything else, are greed and the desire for power. It’s a pretty ugly look, Humanity. Do better.

…Omg this fucking tinnitus, though…

I breathe, exhale, and relax. The day started gently. I’m feeling much better…but… for some dumbass reason, the US attacked Venezuela and kidnapped (“arrested”?) it’s president. I have trouble making any excuses for that kind of stupidity, frankly. Venezuela isn’t even adjacent to the United States at any point at all, does us no direct harm or injury. More bloodshed over oil, more than likely. Horrible. Corrupt. Greedy. Fucking hell, we just aren’t the good guys, y’all. I don’t need to be stuck on this – don’t know why I am. I’m disappointed in this administration. Deeply disappointed, and also pretty grossed out by the aesthetics of the individuals associated with it (the whole “Mar a Lago face” thing is weird and I find it disturbingly inauthentic, but I guess that will make it easy to tell what values any particular talking head may have). Weird to see people spend money to make themselves over into a charicature of the person they could be. I admit I don’t get it, at all. The dishonesty, too, is very disturbing. We’re okay with kidnapping foreign leaders and killing unidentified civilians on fishing boats, but we are uncomfortable calling out genocide if it requires using that word? Words have meaning, that’s why they have definitions. What the actual fuck?

…Use your words. Speak truth to power…

I begin again. I let it go. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I sigh quietly to myself and sip my coffee. It’s very good. Ethiopian beans, freshly ground. Smooth, low acidity, with a rich flavor that hints at chocolate, and meadow flowers. Lovely. I make a point to enjoy this cup of coffee and this quiet moment. Right here, now? This is a very pleasant moment, and there are no bombs dropping here. I pull myself back to the here and now, and allow myself this moment of quiet joy and comfort.

…In spite of my tinnitus…

My Traveling Partner is having his own experience. I sip my coffee and think about him, and us. We’re both very human. Both doing our best, and learning as we go. I’m grateful for this partnership, and more grateful still that he has been so deeply supportive of my emotional wellness, and my physical health, and even of my simple joy in life. I look around my studio/office at all the many little things that remind me of my beloved and this partnership we share. It fills me with joy to feel so loved. This love we share is a pleasant haven from the world’s craziness. I smile, feeling his love even from across the house. I’m glad that I’m feeling some better; there are so many things I’d like to be doing (and so many other things that simply need to be done)! I feel fortunate to have a partner who will help me slow down and take care of myself when that is the wiser choice – I don’t always succeed there, left to my own devices. I appreciate the help.

I finish my coffee, and think about the day ahead. I plan to relax and continue to focus on self-care and getting over the flu. That’s enough today. Tomorrow I can begin again.

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Categories 2024 Election, Allegories, anger, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, health, Love, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being, The Big 5, Uncategorized, War and News of War, winter, Words

Walking in Fog

November 2, 2025 //
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It is morning. Daybreak seems to come early, but it’s only the end of Daylight Savings Time here in the US. In terms of reality and the nature of time, or the timing of various celestial events, nothing actually changed. I walked the trail in the gloom as daybreak came, wrapped in autumn fog on the marsh, and grateful for my warm sweater and the soft fuzzy fleece I threw on over that.

Halfway to somewhere.

The trees form from the mist as I approach them. The morning is spooky and magical, and very quiet. I don’t hear any traffic on the nearby highway, only my footsteps and my breath. I keep walking, heading for my halfway point, and a moment to pause, meditate, and watch the dawn become a new day, before walking on down the trail and out of the fog.

At my halfway point, I stop. I sit. I write. I think. I observe. As day brightens, I see a small cluster of shapes out at the edge of the meadow. Deer. I think it’s likely to be the same small herd I often see here, when I walk this trail. Two mature does resting in the tall grass, partially hidden, and their young born this year, already losing their spots, are accompanied by a buck who stands alert and watchful a short distance away. He seems less concerned with me than whatever may be unseen in the trees beyond the meadow. I watch quietly. Color slowly becomes part of the view, as daylight begins to brighten the meadow and marsh. I see fall colors on the trees, now. The buck raises his head and changes his posture. Something has his attention, and his movement communicates something to his family. They rise from their resting place and join him, as he walks away. They move along quickly, quietly, and disappear into the fog.

I sit where I am, perched on this fence rail, awhile longer. I’m in no hurry. There is, sadly, war going on in the world, and where there is no clearly defined war going on, there may be conflict with less clearly defined sides. In both cases, the outcome for many innocent noncombatants is unchanged: violence, chaos, trauma, suffering, and possibly death. I sigh quietly. Humanity could already be beyond warfare if we chose to put it aside as an artifact of more primitive times. War is ugly, destructive, and there are no actual winners besides those who profit from it. Everyone else loses. War has no positive outcome that could not be more easily obtained (with greater value) without bloodshed. We’re pretty fucking stupid about some shit, as creatures go.

I breathe, exhale, and relax, and pull my awareness back to this moment, here, in the middle of this meadow, alongside the foggy autumn marsh on a November morning at dawn. There is no war, no conflict, here. Just the quiet and the fog, and the steadfast oaks standing nearby, partially obscured by the fog. It feels rather as if anything could be out there in the mist, waiting to be discovered. I swing my feet contentedly, breathing the chilly autumn air, filling my lungs with it, and releasing my wartime worries into the fog with each exhalation.

I remind myself to make self-care a priority.

I spend a few minutes thinking about the day ahead. There is housekeeping to do, later. I think about my untidy personal space at home. It is my office, my studio, my meditation space, and my getaway when I need a quiet moment. The relative orderliness there (or lack of it) often signals my general stress level and state of emotional health. It’s a bit less tidy than I’d ideally like, right now, and it reflects my background stress level pretty accurately. Maybe today I’ll spend some time sorting that out? I know I’ll feel better once I do, that’s just real (and a tiny bit funny).

I sigh as I get to my feet. I take a big deep breath of the cold morning air on the marsh and look up the trail where it disappears into the fog, so mysterious, so promising. I glance at the time. Just as I thought – it’s time to begin again. 😁

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, The Art of Being, War and News of War

Finding Peace

October 2, 2025 //
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It’s still quite dark. Daybreak will be soon. It is one of those moments that feels hopeful and filled with potential. I sit with that feeling, savoring it, and enjoying the experience of existing.

… Sometimes that’s enough…

As I pulled into the parking lot at the trailhead, I saw another car parked on the far side, at the edge of the lights. A man was laying on top of the car, looking up at the sky. Not the sort of thing I see, most days, it is unusual to the point of being noteworthy, most especially on a rainy cloudy morning – there are no stars visible to gaze upon. I park well-away from him, partly to avoid disturbing his peace, partly to avoid disturbing my own. Peace is hard enough to find, right now, and I’m happy to be considerate of someone’s small success when I happen upon it.

The morning smells of rain. The trail is still wet with rain that fell during the night. The ground on either side is squishy, muddy, and slick. I don’t mind any of that, but I’m glad I wore my fleece over my sweater, and that I carried my rain poncho with me (handy for creating a dry place to sit). I look into the darkness of the trees at the edge of the creek. There’s nothing really to see just yet, it’s too dark. Looking across the vineyard, back toward the parking, I see the lights spaced regularly, creating mysterious shapes among the oaks along the trail on that side. There are no real mysteries here, just illusions created by patterns of light and darkness. True of a lot of circumstances. I sit with that thought awhile.

I’m honestly okay right now, for most values of okay. That’s something. I can’t change the world with a single decision in any detectable way, and certainly life, more broadly, is not “all about me”… but…me being okay, myself, right now, is a good enough starting point for most journeys. Definitely this one. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I turn my attention to my own subjective experience. I feel this moment, and allow it to be enough. I need this peace. The chaos of the world won’t dissipate because I’m staring it the face, neither will it worsen if I’m not scrambling to do something, say something, right fucking now. I’m not that important – few of us are. Even among the powerful, very few people are so significant that their moments drive the world, and of those who are? I have no direct influence over them, nor, frankly, do I have to allow them such influence over me. There is distance between us, and in that distance, I can find a moment of peace.

I breathe, exhale, and relax, sitting in quiet contentment on a weekday morning. I am grateful to be employed, and to mostly have my shit together, most of the time. It’s enough, generally speaking, and chasing more has rarely resulted in anything but stress and misery, for me. Exploring sufficiency has been more worthwhile and satisfying. (I’m not seeking to discourage your ambition; we are each walking our own path.) As it turns out, “enough” really is enough.

A sprinkle of rain begins falling. My mind wanders to dinner, later. I smile when I think about how much my Traveling Partner enjoys my cooking. I feel supported and appreciated when I think about the help I’ve been getting around the house lately, from both my beloved, and from the Anxious Adventurer. Without that help, I quickly exhaust myself trying to do everything, all the time. That exhaustion becomes enduring fatigue that undermines my emotional and physical wellness – and my ability to find peace. This is better. I remind myself to say “thank you” explicitly.

I sigh contentedly, as I stand and stretch. It’s a new day, although sunrise hasn’t yet happened. It’s only barely daybreak, but I walked a bit further this morning, and didn’t walk the short loop. It’ll be a longer walk back to the car… I think it’s already time to begin again.

… I found my peace out here on the trail. Where will you find yours?

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, The Art of Being, War and News of War

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

Perspectives and Meaning

December 18, 2024 //
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Damn, yesterday ended up being a tough one. It wasn’t that anything particular went wrong, or that there were challenges I couldn’t face. Hell, I wasn’t exactly in a bad mood, even. The day went askew in a strangely emotional way when the office background music began to play “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” in the holiday music mix. Multiple times. Multiple versions. Various singers. No question, an American holiday classic, and it reliably comes up this time of year, sooner or later. For me, it’s simply the saddest and most poignant holiday song ever. It’s a war era (WW II) song, and I reliably hear it sung in the voices of those who will never come home to another holiday. It’s mournful (for me). It’s one holiday song I can’t sing along to; I choke up before I even get the first line sung, and the tears come. I missed an entire holiday season deployed to a war zone myself. We sang this song together, and others, around the diesel stove on winter evenings, fighting off our blues, hoping that we would indeed one day go home for those holidays once more. Some of us don’t ever come home from war. Some of us who do make it home are forever changed by experiences no civilian loved ones can share or truly understand. War is horrible stuff, and the price paid along the way in lives and limbs and souls is far too high. I thought of Gaza. I thought of Ukraine. I thought of Syria. Global conflict. Genocide. The horrors of war. We should maybe stop doing that shit – and I’ll probably always cry when I hear this song. It has real meaning for me. Soldiers kill. Soldiers die. I’ve lost people along the way. My nightmares persist.

…It “broke” my yesterday…

By the time I got home from work, I was pretty much a mess (emotionally) and feeling really low. My Traveling Partner did his best to lift my mood, and together with the Anxious Adventurer we sat around watching “fail videos” and little bits of comic this-n-that, and taking things lightly. I gotta say, my beloved partner’s “emotional slight of hand” was masterful, last night. I had tried to say something about being set off by “I’ll Be Home For Christmas”, and the Anxious Adventurer tried (in a well-intended way) to commiserate by sharing how annoying he finds that one particularly notable Mariah Carey holiday song. Understand me, please, I was not “annoyed”, I was grieving and feeling heart-broken over experiences few civilians share, and that I can’t seem to forget. Before I could flare up, irritable and angry over misperceptions of being “dismissed” or not understood seriously, my Traveling Partner put things on a comic footing in a wholesome loving understanding way, easily distracting me long enough for my unreasonable anger to be defused, unnoticed. No harm done. Fuck I love that man. He can make me laugh when I’m hurting. He can make me cry when I’ve grown jaded.

This morning the first words from my Traveling Partner were words of love and fondness and adoration. He tells me I am precious to him. He tells me he loves me. I feel it. I’m moved and my morning feels… merry. A new beginning. He understands, better than most people, where I’ve been and what I’ve been through. We’ve shared a few years together. We’ve had shared experiences, separately, that are not so commonplace for people generally. He “gets me”, mostly. More so than anyone else has. I feel loved.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I’m in a different place this morning, although I am sitting in the same chair. I’m wrapped in love. It matters.

Be kind to the veterans in your life, and the survivors of war – you don’t have to know the details of what they’ve been through to care, and to be there as a friend. It matters that you care. It’s enough. Help each other begin again, when things get tough. Share the journey. Hell, just be kind, generally – we’re all going through some shit. It’s a very human experience.

I look at the clock. It’s clearly time to begin again. 14 days to a new year – already? Damn. The time passes so quickly…

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Categories 2024 Election, Allegories, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, grief, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being, War and News of War
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