Archives for posts with tag: we become what we practice

What Are You Celebrating?

July 4, 2026 //

It is the actual 4th of July. What are you even celebrating? 250 years of… what, exactly? Or… are you celebrating something about the way things are, presently? Think about that. I’m not going to wait – this trail is ahead of me.

Where does this path lead? It’s an important question.

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

What are you celebrating today? America’s 250th birthday? The destruction of democracy at the hands of the corrupt and the foolish? Something more personal? (For a long time I celebrated my freedom and survival from my first marriage every July 4th – totally worth celebrating.) What does the day really mean to you? Is it only a third day off, and a cookout, followed by lackluster fireworks and the sound of sirens after some careless idiot blows his hand off misusing fireworks at home?

…250 years of racism and misogyny?..

On a lighter note, my Traveling Partner pointed out, a couple days ago, that we are observing the six year anniversary of moving into our little small town suburban home. Wow – already? I remember that first 4th of July in a new place, still moving in, no AC, listening to our neighbors blowing shit up until well past midnight. The house was stifling hot, the windows open to a breeze that never seemed enough to cool things down. (I’m glad we had the AC installed. Worth it.) I’m grateful to be free from the constant nagging awareness that my rented housing wasn’t really mine, noisy neighbors and all. Worth celebrating. We worked hard to get here. We are fortunate to be here.

A view of the Willamette River from a convenient rock.

I find a spot to sit awhile and watch the river flow past. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I exchange good morning greetings with my beloved. The lovely pinks and golds of the sunrise that I enjoyed getting here are long gone. The day looks overcast, and there is no hint of sunshine for now, although the forecast indicates a sunny hot day. (Maybe the government should have kept their meteorologists and weather data gathering agencies intact after all? Shortsighted fuckwits.)

I inhale the scented summer air. Flowers. Clover, blackberries, and St John’s Wort mostly, and some wild roses here and there. The combination is pleasant. I exhale slowly, and repeat, filling my lungs and my senses. This is a lovely spot to sit with my thoughts.

I watch young squirrels playing in the branches that hang over the trail. The saplings sway under their weight, flexing and springing back as they jump from branch to branch. While my attention is diverted, a chipmunk sneaks up and tugs at the end of my bootlace, then darts away when I look down. I laugh out loud and startle all manner of creatures back into the safety of the underbrush. Noisy human.

Little birds flit about, landing nearby for a moment, singing a bit of their song, then flying away. This is a beautiful spot. Quiet. Peaceful. I sit enjoying it awhile longer, taking note of blackberry vines heavy with unripe fruit. The thimbleberries are laden with young fruit, too. Among the native shrubs, a twisted old apple tree also has young fruits on it.

I sigh contentedly to myself. I’m not inclined to celebrate the dumpster fire that is modern day American “governance”, but I’ve got this beautiful day, and I am fortunate to enjoy this moment before returning home to a life rich in joy and love. That’s totally worth celebrating.

Wherever you are is a great place to begin, again.

Tags 250 years of what?, be here now, begin again, breathe exhale relax, do your best, go outside, Ichi-go ichi-e, just being human, little birds, meditation, read a book, results may vary, Vita Contemplativa, vote wisely, walking my own path, we become what we practice, what are you celebrating?, where does this path lead?

Categories 2024 Election, Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, inspiration, joy, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Practices, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being, Words

Independence Day

July 3, 2026 //

I breathe in the sweetly scented summer air on this trail between a vast meadow of clover and the broad silent river on the other side of a strip of trees and brambles. Beautiful morning. Sunny and cool, for now, some heat in the forecast later.

No AI here, only a human being and a camera phone.

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

I woke this morning feeling recovered from whatever sickness laid me flat yesterday afternoon. It was a delight to water the lawn at daybreak and to watch the sunrise as I drove to the trailhead.

I sit on a rock near the river, enjoying the mild summer morning. It’s beautiful. I don’t need more than this right now. I listen to birds singing and chirping. I take a couple pictures, wishing very much that the pictures could also capture the scents. Wildflowers and clover. Nice.

… I let my mind wander contentedly, feeling free…

Weeds or wildflowers? It depends on your point of view.

When I say I don’t use AI to write my blog, I’m very serious. Another kind of freedom worth celebrating. No AI editing the pictures. No AI generated images. No AI authorship or editing. No choices to turn over my thinking to an algorithm or LLM. No AI research. My spelling mistakes and weird grammar and syntax are my own. My limited knowledge is my own. My thoughts are my own. My lived experience is real and human and messy. I’m okay with all of that. I don’t think my position on AI is at all unique; I get more comments and friendly feedback about my AI disclaimer than any topic I actually write about. I feel amused – and vindicated.

I keep to the path I’m on; there’s real freedom and independence in saying “no” to the AI slop and unnecessary “tools” being shoved into every app whether it’s helpful, or desirable, or not (“not” seems generally to be the case). I don’t need it. I don’t use it.

… AI is not capable of understanding the human experience…

A small bird sings to me for a few minutes.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. The scents of summer wildflowers fill the air. It’s a lovely morning. I feel free. That’s worth celebrating.

Free your mind. Live your life. Go outside.

I think about the day ahead. I’ll fly my drone. Fold some laundry. Maybe paint. Read awhile. The day is mine to live as I choose. I hope I choose wisely.

Happy Independence Day. Live free.

Tags be here now, begin again, breathe exhale relax, choose freedom, choose wisely, do you?, freedom from AI slop, go outside, learn a skill, live free, lived experience, No AI, platform decay, read banned books, resilience, results may vary, self-care, self-reflection, think for yourself, use only as directed, very human, we are mortal creatures, we become what we practice

Categories 2024 Election, Allegories, art and the artist, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being, thoughts on AI, War and News of War, Words

Waiting for the Light

June 27, 2026 //

“Waiting for the light” – metaphorically or as an approach to photography or art – is sometimes a requirement to “getting the right shot”, or for capturing a certain mood. More often, it’s a matter of fortunate timing. Even achieving some measure of “enlightenment” sometimes means waiting for the light. (Certainly I’ve had very little success with chasing it.) Waiting is not the fastest approach to such things, but it is often what puts me in the right place at the right time to catch the light at a moment when it becomes transformative.

The effect of light on a moment of waiting, like an unexpected epiphany.

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

Qualities of stillness and light greet me at the trailhead this morning. I breathe in, inhaling the forest scents of summer at the river’s edge. There are bunnies frolicking at the edge of the meadow adjacent to the parking. The cloudy sky, although stormy looking, seems more comforting than forboding this morning. I feel relaxed and unbothered.

I sit with my thoughts, watching the robins and the rabbits, and relacing my boots. A break in the clouds reveals a baby blue strip of sky. No reason to delay, really, but I’m also in no hurry. Saturday.

Nice morning to put a couple miles on my boots. I dilly-dallying a while longer, watching the bunny and her little ones, who creep out of the dense brush slowly. The tasty grass is apparently more tempting than I am any sort of threat, but they watch me warily. Later, the dog walkers will arrive with their boisterous animals, and the rabbits will be scared back into the dense brush, and the robins startled back into the trees. I don’t feel like cutting their breakfast short, so I sit quietly enjoying them. I can start down the path any time, it does not have to be now.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I sit enjoying the lovely moment of quiet and stillness. This is uncomplicated and beautiful. I don’t need more out of it than this.

I think about the day ahead. I’m eager to get into the studio. I feel inspired. This vexing headache though… I sigh to myself. My fingernails are too long for comfortably painting. I’ve got a manicure today, and manage to resist the momentary impulse to just cut them short.

“Waiting” is also a verb, but it won’t take me far.

I pull myself back to “now”. I’ll live the moments as they come. I yawn and stretch and get to my feet. This trail is waiting for me. It’s time to begin. Again.

Tags be here now, begin again, breathe exhale relax, do your own homework, enlightenment isn't for sale, light vs darkness, meditation, picture the scene, qualities of light, results may vary, solo hiking, taking the next step, walk in, we become what we practice, where does this path lead?, wild rabbits

Categories Allegories, art and the artist, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Practices, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being, Words

A Disney Moment

June 21, 2026 //

I got a slow start this morning, in spite of waking quite early and heading to the trail I had selected before dawn. It was a sort of “Disney moment” that caused me to pause and sit awhile, before heading down the trail.

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

I had pulled in to the empty parking lot at the trailhead just at sunrise on an overcast summer morning. As I was gathering my thoughts, a bunny appeared from the brush and tall grass. Then another.

Then a squirrel darted into view. A robin landed on a nearby rock. Rather than disturb them all, I sat quiet and still, just watching. Slowly, a stately young buck stepped into the clearing, and two does followed as he passed by, gazing calmly at me as he walked past quite close. A young northern flicker lands on the gate post near my parked car.

Where are you putting your attention? In the real world, or on a screen?

How could I create chaos in this idyllic scene by barging about noisily as human primates often do? I couldn’t. So I sat awhile listening to birdsong and watching a variety of creatures that call this place home just living their lives at the edge of this trail, between forest and meadow along the bank of the Willamette River. What a beautiful moment! I could so easily have missed all of it if I’d been walking through life with my eyes on a screen. How much are you missing because you’ve got your phone in your hand?

… I’m not criticizing your choices with regard to what you are putting your attention on. That’s a you thing. Do you. I’m just aware – and noticing – how much I could be missing of this lovely moment, if I had rushed through it, or been focused on my phone instead of the world around me. It isn’t the first time I’ve given this some thought.

There is more and more research available that supports concerns that our device use is degrading our cognitive abilities and critical thinking skills, and making us dependent on “helpful” tech, so I’m definitely not alone in my concern that my phone (and more modern LLM tools) has the very real potential to degrade my experience, my ability to be present, and my attention to the real physical world around me.

…I made the drive over here without my GPS, to avoid losing my sense of direction and ability to navigate without a device; I’m taking this stuff quite seriously…

…I happily put my phone down (after stealthily snapping a couple pictures) to watch bunnies and robins and squirrels and quail and deer and wildflowers swaying in a soft summer breeze. I wouldn’t want to miss this moment. Would you?

A quiet moment on a summer morning, well-suited to contemplation.

What a lovely moment to enjoy! I haven’t even begun my hike yet. 😆 I grab my cane and my water bottle. The trail is waiting for me, and it’s time to begin, again.

Tags ACT, be here now, be present, begin again, breathe exhale relax, CBT, choose wisely, critical thinking, each moment the only moment, each time for the first time, embrace joy, go outside, life in the real world, meditation, put your phone down, results may vary, self-awareness, self-care, self-reflection, use it or lose it, walking my own path, we become what we practice, where does this path lead?

Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, joy, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being, Words

Zoom Out

June 18, 2026 //

The morning begins gently, if a bit earlier than I’d hoped. I dress, water the lawn, and head to the trailhead.

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

I started down the trail as the sunrise began, walking towards the west, counterclockwise on the loop that circles the vineyard. I walk with my thoughts, still processing an epiphany I brought back with me from my coastal getaway. Something to do with time management and presence and meeting my need for solitude and creative time “on the cheap” and more reliably (and without having to upend my routine every time I need to catch a breath or practice self-care more skillfully). I am grateful for the opportunity to “reset” my understanding of my Traveling Partner’s improved capabilities, too. I feel more easily able to simply enjoy him as he is, without constantly working to anticipate (or soothe) every need and every circumstance. It feels good to be able to focus on what I also need, again.

My self-care “stall points” are pretty commonplace I suppose. I enjoy my beloved’s companionship greatly, and I am easily tempted into doing nothing at all aside from enjoying his company, which definitely prevents me from getting things done. I often attempt to counter this by jumping to immediately handle any task mentioned to me, to avoid forgetting it. The result is that I am constantly spinning from distraction to distraction without making room for what I need for myself, to be well and to thrive. It’s a puzzle. Stepping away and considering my life while a bit removed from it gave me a new perspective from which to compare, contrast, and evaluate. Useful time spent on self-reflection.

I reflect on my thoughts about better self-care, and being a better partner from the vantage point of my halfway point on this familiar trail. These aren’t new thoughts, not entirely, it’s more that they have resurfaced and gained my attention at a moment when I can give them deeper consideration. Useful.

I’ve decided to add two practices to my day-to-day routine, and resurrect another that I had dropped when life was too full with caregiving. The two new practices are rather simple and mostly about time management: firstly, I’ll take 15-20 minutes after work each day for solitude, (just sitting quietly and allowing my mental buffer time enough to clear out anything still queued up at the end of the day would allow me to feel more easily able to be fully present with my partner) and secondly, I’m going to begin committing two hours on the weekends for studio art. I’ll take the time from time I often spend just chilling on the couch with no purpose in mind and which could be better spent – and giving up a portion of the weekend to artistic endeavors sounds very nurturing, to me.

As far as a practice that got dropped being resurrected, I’m going to get back to practicing yoga. Healthy movement has lasting value and I definitely spend too much time just sitting. 😆 I can begin slowly and work around my injuries gently. It’ll be good for me. (And hey, better fitness will likely mean better sex, too! Win!)

I watch the trees become filled with light. The sun has crested the horizon and it is a new day. I have a new opportunity to begin again.

Tags be here now, be present, begin again, breathe exhale relax, chronic fatigue, chronic pain, do your best, don't make assumptions, Don't take things personally, impermanence, non attachment, one step at a time, perspective, practicing the practices, results may vary, self-care, self-reflection, speak gently, steps on a path, sufficiency, walking my own mile, we become what we practice

Categories Allegories, art and the artist, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Spring, Summer, The Art of Being, weight loss secrets, women, Words

What Are You Celebrating?

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Independence Day

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Waiting for the Light

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A Disney Moment

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Zoom Out

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