Meditation – Michael Seidel, writer

Ashland, southern Oregon — Tuesday, October 20, 2026.

Last night felt wintry cold outside. Today sits at 66 F under clouds mixing it up with sunshine. The clouds are a chaotic shapes in blues, gray, whites. We expect a high of 75 for this autumn day in the valley.

Mom launched a new barrage of texts and phone calls at me last night. I’d just returned from my third BCG wash and was feeling this one. My energy level was plundered and I was nauseous. Had some burning urinating, and many sudden urges to pee that ended with weak, short trickles. Nuts. Price to pay to get better, of course, and preferable to the alternative.

But that left me ill-prepared for Mom. Just wasn’t up to it. She was texting and calling again about how much pain she’s in and how mad she is with Gina, going into the details of why she’s mad at the only one of her daughters willing to help and visit. Mom finished with the now classic, “If none of the three daughters who live near me want to take me to the doctors, then I don’t want to go.”

Mom has employed that line so many times over the last year, it sincerely *cringe* reminds me of Donald Trump declaring, “We already won the war. I can end it any time I want.” The repetition dilutes their claims’ impact.

I sent Mom a text and basically excused myself from participating due to how I felt, but sent a text to my sisters as well.

And this is life, isn’t it? Sometimes you want sunny skies and get pouring rain. And I shouldn’t complain. It hasn’t rained much in my life. Many, many others have endured much, much, much worse.

Thinking about my childhood much frequently. I attribute it to a combination of Dad’s death last year, Mom’s declining health, my own health matters, along with my wife’s, but also, to history.

Back in my youth, we lived under the threat of nuclear war with China (PRC) and the USSR (Soviet Union, Warsaw Pact). Then the Berlin wall fell. We were supposed to enjoy a peace dividend. That never really came. Much of our foreign policy approaches didn’t change much. Russia replaced the USSR as a major threat and the PRC was still out there.

Now we find Donald Trump aiding Russia. Trump is shaping foreign policy based on his polling woes and fears that he’ll lose the upcoming elections.

Meanwhile, in our schools, children are shot and killed. Few do much about it except dissect what happened and put a spotlight on the killer, victims, and heroes. Then we move on to the next crisis du jour.

With Donald Trump orchestrating matters, there’s always a crisis. His solutions are often short-sighted. They frequently focus on symptoms. They rarely correlate to facts, truth, and history.

These are the days in which we now live.

With all that churning my thinking, The Neurons responded with a Queen song. “These Are the Days of Our Lives” was released in 1991, one of the last songs Freddie Mercury sang with the group before his death.

Searching for a suitable video today, I came up with one featuring Queen with George Michael and Lisa Stansfield.

Sample Lyrics

Sometimes I get to feeling
I was back in the old days long ago
When we were kids, when we were young
Things seemed so perfect, you know?

The days were endless, we were crazy, we were young
The sun was always shining, we just lived for fun

Sometimes it seems like lately
I just don’t know
The rest of my life’s been just a show

I hope the weather accommodates your mood, and your spirit carries you to happy times.

Cheers

I dreamed I was at a sister’s house with other family members, getting ready to go somewhere. I never actually saw anyone but knew this and frequently spoke with them, but just in passing comments.

I knew my sister had decided to start a new business. I saw these large, clear plastic trays, made for transferring fluids, were dirty, so I stopped and cleaned them all, to help her out.

They were all in my sister’s car, waiting for me, a maroon vehicle. I then downloaded two computer things to her car: business planning software for her, and directions to my uncle’s house for me.

When I got in the car, my sister said, “There are two downloaded items.” I explained what they were.

She was driving. I got on the phone with my uncle for directions. I knew how to get there; I just needed the final address. (This uncle is deceased in real life.)

He gruffly asked me if I had pen and pencil. I didn’t but felt that wasn’t needed, and would just depend on my memory.

My sister dropped me off at a facility where I was to graduate. Others who were to graduate were also arriving, in groups. Most were younger. I got in line alone. Watching the operation, I realized that they graduated us in small groups in a building and not on stage.

As I reached the door and stopped, waiting to enter, I noticed the man behind me was trying to push me forward. I turned around and told him not to do that. He, a bearded white guy with wavy blonde hair and blue eyes, backed off.

I went into the room when called forward. I again had to wait. I noticed that they were providing mysteries to the people ahead of me. They were expected to solve them using math. I began trying to shift my focus to do better.

We went left, and then right, lining up. When I was second in line, a man helping with giving out the diplomas came to me to identify me. After he did, he explained that I was graduating at a higher level than the others, and things were a little different for me. He moved me to one side to wait.

After a little bit, he brought over a white sheet of paper and told me to hold onto it. I examined it and gathered that it was a summary of my achievements and records, but it was written in a small font and was often different foreign languages so it didn’t make much sense to me. There were also symbols, like the ‘eye on the pyramid’ used on US money.

Dream end