what are you fighting for?

In this nation where billions are wasted on AI and warfare, people are suffering. It’s not that there isn’t enough to go around, enough to lift everyone out of poverty, enough to build a peaceful world of sufficiency and comfort for everyone, and even to provide healthcare to everyone… it’s that greed gets to the hearts of power first.

…Hard times follow for many people, and it is frankly shameful…

I woke in pain, which means I woke thinking about work and bills and doctors and the grind that seems required to get ahead, stay ahead, and maybe finish with a little left over to pass along. In a nation with the means to spend the many hundreds of billions of dollars it takes to wage unwanted war on a nation that could not harm us, this is both annoying and honestly horrifying. You only have to listen to billionaires talk about people to know they don’t care about people beyond the potential cash value they represent.

I can’t honestly say that I “like people” in general. I’ve been hurt and disappointed too many times. But I value people, and I like many of them individually and cherish what they bring to my experience of life. I cherish and deeply love one person, now, and have loved others. Are billionaires actually capable of love or of valuing people, or humanity?

I walk the trail in the darkness with my blue mood and grim thoughts. I’m vexed that humanity has not yet given up on warfare. What a fucking travesty. What a waste of resources. The cost is too high. The money wasted could be better spent.

… I take my meds and hope that my pain will ease… Doing so reminds me of the ridiculous cost of medical care in this country. I keep walking.

I manage to dodge most of the puddles in spite of the darkness. I’m walking without my headlamp, which is a little silly, but I didn’t care to deal with the bobbing circle of light this morning. I just want peace. There is no peace. Somehow the thought of shining a light on this dark mood only annoys me, so I don’t. I just keep walking.

I get to my halfway point, still hearing the song in my head. “Hard Times” by Devil Makes Three is too relevant right now. I woke with this song in my head and a heavy heart. I’d like to feel differently. Maybe I’ll feel differently later. I ignore the tears sliding down my cheeks. I’m not looking for comfort; I feel things deeply, that’s a super power, not a character flaw. I let the tears fall.

Billionaire grifters dragging the world into war for a profit… This is not what I thought I was fighting for as a soldier watching the cold war end. Instead of a world at peace we’ve handed the future over to thieves at a bargain while we watch them burn it to the ground. The death toll is grotesque. The tears fall. Not just mine, falling helplessly and pointlessly over a war on another continent, but also the tears of loss and pain and terror of the many real human beings whose lives have been destroyed by wars no one needs, that serve no identifiable good in the world. It sickens me. …Or is that queasy sensation only my own physical pain? I sigh to myself.

I wish I were looking forward to the day and the weekend ahead. I get to my feet, tears wet on my face, trail wet from recent rain. I may as well walk on. I have practices to practice, and a life to live. I can begin again. Change is. Hard times come and go. Nations rise and fall. This too will pass.

Sipping my coffee on Labor Day. I’m not in the office, and I have the day off; that’s nice. I take a few moments of time and consideration for the efforts of each subsequent wave of labor movements over human history that brought us here – to this place and time with 5 day (or fewer) work weeks, limited to 40 hours (in principle), with a minimum wage expectation (still, for some reason, a radical notion), regular weekends off, healthcare, bereavement pay and other benefits, and restrictions on who could be required to work, and at what age… wow. It was not always like this for working people. Powerful. There’s more work to be done, but today? Not the day to fight that fight. Today, we celebrate that fight. 😀

It hasn’t been quite so hot, and the cooler weather definitely limits the impact to our quality of life that the A/C is busted. It’s mostly fixed, and I expected it would be fully repaired yesterday afternoon. Apparently not a reasonable expectation, even after the repair person selected by the landlord assured me he just needed one more part, and would wrap things up between 1 pm and 2 pm; I never saw him again, yesterday. lol I am frustrated – but, and this is just real, I also think it is wholly shitty that he is spending much of his Labor Day weekend working. :-\ So, I feel inclined to be very patient about it, through the weekend, for sure.

Any time I feel subjectively “too hot”, I do have the option to change up the scenery. I can have a cooling cold(ish) shower. I can enjoy an Italian ice, or an icy cold beverage. I can run an errand in the car (it has A/C, and the A/C in the car works just fine) or go for a long drive. I can even, and this does work pretty well, dim the lighting in the apartment and “trick myself” into feeling cooler with a video of rain falling, or a snowy evening. All surprisingly effective, particularly if I don’t fight back with regular reminders of how hot I feel. LOL Thankfully, the weather has been cooler, more around 80 than above 90.

…I’m just saying; there is nearly always something I can do to improve an uncomfortable situation. This applies every bit as much to A/C failures as to relationships, jobs, working conditions, as well as a ridiculously wide variety of assorted miscellaneous other life experiences. 🙂 The answer to “what can I do about that?” is very rarely “nothing at all”.

It’s been a lovely weekend. I’ve gotten a few things done. I’ve enjoyed hours of entertainment with my Traveling Partner. This third day off feels “extra” in a wonderful way, although it is also that last day before I must return to work – I generally spend those more on preparing for the week ahead, and in service to hearth and home, than relaxing. Taking care of me does have some verbs involved. My desire to see a clean kitchen means I need to do the work to make it so. If I want clean clothes to wear, it’s a good day to do the laundry. Just the basic stuff, and plenty of time between tasks to chill with my partner, enjoying the day. It’s helpful that we are equals in this partnership; I often come home to an astonishing amount of housekeeping and care already handled. This week, the laundry is already sorted (and I didn’t have to do that), even started (and a bunch of stuff ready to fold or hang up). We work together to build the life we enjoy sharing. No slaves, no masters, no petty resentment, no servitude.

I listen to the sound of this snow storm playing in the background. I sip my coffee and grin at the subjective sensation of cold toes on a chilly morning. (It’s not actually cold this morning.) I think ahead to dinner, later, and wonder if it is too late (being Labor Day) to get a thick bone-in rib-eye to throw on the grill tonight… and laugh at my terrible planning; I was just at the store, literally at the butcher counter, yesterday. It’s not even necessary to go out; there is plenty to choose from here, already. lol My restless monkey mind wants to seek, to travel, to explore, to experience – and my ankle objects to the effort and distance, in advance. (It’s been a limiting concern all weekend.) I remind myself gently, that if the ankle were up to it, I’d just hit the trail this morning and walk 3 or 4 miles, enjoying the morning birdsong and breezes.

…This morning, sufficiency is enough. 😉 Tomorrow is soon enough to begin again. 😀

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