Marlowe and I were out on her morning walk, when we saw one of her friends.
“Hi Marlowe!” He said with a huge smile, while I struggled to keep up with her efforts to get her head under his outstretched hand.
While they enjoyed scritches, he and I had a long talk about the squirrels and birds in the neighborhood.
Y’all, I became a weird Bird Person so gradually, I can’t even tell you when it started.1
Marlowe looked back at me, letting me know she had finished Friendship and was ready to return to Walkies.
Her friend and I said goodbye, and continued our walks.
We were about halfway up the block when I started thinking about my blog. Every morning, and almost every evening, I sit down at my desk and open WordPress. I click new and spend some disappointing minutes trying to post … something. Usually, I get overwhelmed by options or current events or both, and close the tab in frustration.
I’ve been trying, and failing, to find my way back to writing every day, even if it’s about something that I have decided is silly or pointless. Not everything has to be Super Important, I tell myself, and then I look at the news. It’s so awful. It’s like America ripped off the mask, and the monster we always knew was lurking underneath it wasn’t just a monster, it was a cosmic horror, indescribable and incomprehensible in its violence, fear, and anger. I look at that and I’m like, how can I not do something about this? How can I not talk about it, if only for the record? And I get stuck there.
One of the local ravens, Little Kevin, landed on a branch in front of me. They did that corvid chortle cluck thing, which I have come to understand is a greeting.
“Hey, buddy,” I said. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a couple of peanuts. I made my own clicking, clucking, chortling sounds as I tossed them into the middle of the street. Then I deliberately looked away, which I understand is a way to let corvids know we aren’t a threat.
I had only taken a couple of steps when their shadow passed across my face. I glanced behind me and watched Little Kevin pick up one, then two, peanuts, before they flew up into a tree. I made corvid sounds at them.
I love this, I thought. I’m going to mark this moment, so I don’t forget.
We rounded the corner, walking out of the shade. The sun was warm and welcoming on my skin. I am grateful for this. Everything is terrible, but I am grateful for this.
Maybe I’ll write about this on my blog, I thought.
And that’s when I got this anxious tightness in my chest, like I have a midterm in an hour and I haven’t studied. At all.
What the actual fuck is that about?
I don’t know, but It’s literally just a blog post, Wil. It’s not … whatever you’re making it.
I noticed that Marlowe was looking up at me, expectantly. I became vaguely aware of the jingling of dog tags. I realized that my body was on the corner, but my mind was someplace very far away. I realized that I was looking at a dog we call Marlowe’s Nemesis. Their Person waved to me, and I waved back. For the last three or four years, we have worked to convince our dogs that they don’t need to yell at each other when we pass on the street. Around a year ago, something changed and they both just … got over it. So now, when Marlowe sees her, she does a super good sit, just like I taught her. Her nemesis ignores us both, while their person and I exchange a silent greeting. None of us knows each other’s names.
“Better late than never, but waiting until you were 14 was certainly a choice, Mars,” I said as I gave her a treat.
Little Kevin flew over me and landed on the street light. They called, loudly, bowing their head a little bit and opening their wings. Almost immediately, another raven joined them. I was pretty sure it was their older sibling, who was a fledgling last year. We named them Kevin, after the bird in Up. Did you know that corvids live intergenerationally in the same nest? The older sibling will stay for a year and help raise the new fledgling2. We watched Kevin teach Little Kevin how to hunt and eviscerate baby birds last summer, for instance. There’s nothing quite like walking out into the yard and discovering an avian ritual killing, first thing in the morning.
“Hi Kevin,” I said. I tossed another handful of peanuts into the street.
I’ve been doing daily meditations with the Calm App, off and on, for a few months. I started using it to help manage my anxiety, and to help fall asleep. It was super effective, so I looked into a more regular meditation practice, averaging about ten minutes a day. I can’t tell you why, because I don’t know and I don’t understand, but holy shit does it WORK. I struggle with nervous system dysregulation almost every day, and CPTSD flashbacks is my Sword of Damocles. I’ve been working diligently for years with a trauma-recovery therapist to help me, well, recover from my trauma. I use EMDR and IFS therapy, and it is working more effectively than I ever thought possible.3 I’m so much better, you guys, than I was just a year ago,4 but recovery is a journey with no destination beyond the next step, so my work doesn’t really end (but daily life has gotten much, much, easier. I think I may have enough to write a book about the experience).
So. To support my therapy, and give myself a kind of booster between sessions, I do meditation. I don’t know how it works or exactly what is happening, but I do know that, starting in like … October last year? I think? … I have been able to slow down in my head. I have been able to quiet my racing, anxious, worried, hypervigilant brain. And I don’t even know how I’m doing it, just that I am doing it.
Slowing down has made a huge, significant, difference for me.
A lightbulb popped over my head.
“Marlowe, this is important,” I said. “When I was regularly writing in my blog like twenty years ago, everything was slower. We didn’t have smartphones; we barely had dumb phones. We didn’t have social media. We didn’t have Influencers. It was slower, quieter. I could spend a whole day thinking about what I was going to write that night or the next morning. I wasn’t distracted and pulled in a dozen different directions. Daily life wasn’t an endless string of compounding traumas while we all hoped with everything we had that it will happen today.
“A thought that is now one or two posts on a social network was developed into a whole post on a blog. There was a community of regular readers who commented every time, and I had no idea how much I would miss that when it was gone.”
Marlowe looked up at me and did her best to understand. The Kevins fluttered down to the ground and began picking at the peanuts.
“It is unrealistic for me to expect myself to write now like I did then, because Now is fundamentally different. I am fundamentally different.”
Is it really as easy as adjusting my expectations for myself? Is it really as easy as not judging myself, and hitting publish instead of cancel?
There’s nothing tricky about it! It’s just a little trick!
I need to unplug. We all need to unplug. We all need to take breaks from the horrors. We need to slow down, even if it’s just for a couple of minutes.
Everything won’t be terrible forever. There’s a reckoning coming and I, for one, want to be ready.
If I don’t write about the mundane, if I don’t exercise the muscles I use when I make a post about walking my dog, watching birds, and reflecting on who I am right now, because all I want to do is scream at the horrors until I have no voice left, then I have surrendered in advance. I have given up doing something I love, that gives my life purpose and meaning.
I keep forgetting that I am a Helper, which I know is silly since I literally just wrote about that. But, you know, trauma makes you weird sometimes.
The Kevins followed us for a few houses. I tossed them some more peanuts and a minute later they both passed close by me, carrying them in their beaks. I could hear the soft rustle of their feathers and felt the downdraft on the side of my face.
I’m not gonna lie, it was magical.
When we got back to our house, I took Marlowe’s collar off at the driveway so she could walk up to the door. She got there ahead of me, turned around, and looked at me with that great Pittie smile, her tail wagging.
“You did such a great job, Mars,” I told her. “A+.”
We walked into the house. She had what Anne and I call “one thousand times drinks” from her doggie fountain, then lay down, happily, in front of the couch. I kneeled down in front of her and kissed the top of her head. She thumped her tail twice and sighed.
“I’ll be in my office if you need anything, honey,” I said, “I going to go write something for my blog.”
Thanks for reading. I’m glad you’re here. If you’d like to get my posts by e-mail, here’s the thingy:
- Yesterday, I was on my way out the kitchen door, stopped with a gasp, and quietly called Anne over to see the California Towhee that was perched on the wire over the patio. We have tons of finches and sparrows, even the occasional cowbird, but I just love the Towhees, and this was the first time I’d ever seen one on my patio.
We sat there and made excited noises for a second. Then I looked at her.
“Still punk as fuck,” I said.
“Yeah, obviously. Still punk as fuck.” ↩︎ - I was one of the lucky ten thousand about a year ago. ↩︎
- Honestly, it works so well, it is indistinguishable from magic at times. ↩︎
- today is a terrible anniversary; one year since America pulled the trigger on the gun it put to its head in 2016 ↩︎
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I’m glad you were able to enjoy the moment, and am jealous of your raven friends. I feed jays and crows from my deck every morning, and there’s something so rewarding about making that brief connection with a wild creature.
Thank you for taking me on that walk. It was calming. Restorative.
I’m glad you’re here too.
I’m glad I’m here
Such a great post! 100% can relate. I’ve totally embraced the bird nerd that I’ve become. We have very different birds in Australia – same same, but different.
And yes, ‘still punk as fuck’, especially in the context of these times we live in now.
I’m always so grateful for your entries, maybe especially these. I have gotten off of social media, so hearing from you is a great treat! I am on a similar CPTSD journey and of a similar age, and its not a straight line. Sometimes I can’t believe I am still working on this, others, so proud of how far I’ve come. Thank you for continuing to write!
This was so lovely. We need to remember to keep living.
And thank you for the reminder about meditation. I need to get back to that place.
Oh wow. This was exactly what I needed to read today. I keep getting stuck because of the world and family drama and even my main hobby causing me stress more often than I’d like. Here’s to slowing down and paying attention and existing in a place of kindness and thoughtfulness as a form of resistance. Thank you, Wil.
This was absolutely wonderful. Thank you, Wil.
Thanks for writing your blog. Maybe sometimes it doesn’t feel big to you, but it makes a world of difference to many of us who are also hanging onto hope for the reckoning. Thanks for writing about birds and walking your dog and about struggling with all the stuff. You are not alone and you writing about it reminds me that I’m also not alone. Thanks.
I love this reminder that there are people walking dogs and getting excited about California Towhees outside of windows and things going on that are mundane and beautiful. I prefer this reminder than the other kind. And I have also experienced the slow and steady decline into weird bird person territory. Yesterday I found myself making some homemade suet (fat from a roast chicken plus crushed dog food) for my local murder of crows so I could add some pieces to their daily (unsalted) shelled peanuts and dog food – it’s snowy out and it’s hard for them to find food right now – and I reflected that I’ve become that weird lady that goes out into her yard and whistles for her crow friends every morning. And then they show up and eat. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Thank you for slowing down and taki us with your
I love this. As a former daily blogger I have also struggled in this new world we live it. However, I have committed to starting to keep a daily journal in 2026. Just for me, just my private thoughts. Something to at least force me to practice the writing muscle.
Wil, your slice of life blogs are soothing and delightful; the dogs, the birds, dog rivalry, neighbors, walks. These things are great. And in passing, you provide us with great resources like the app for meditation you discovered. Always, always appreciated.
The horrors. While the mundane deflects it for awhile, it’s always there. But we decide how much weight we want to give it. I’ve been rewatching the series Three Body Problem on Netflix. What a CORKER of a show. Never had seen anything like it when I watched it for the first time. Season two is being filmed. Sure, it’s fictional but the stakes are huge, as huge as what we perceive is stacked against us right now.
I still believe the world is smart enough and humane enough, democratic enough to rid us of the 2-ton, yellow-haired, micro-penised, sundowning tyrant so we don’t have to deflect or hold our breath anymore.
Wil- I don’t know why I am taking a minute to respond to this particular newsletter that I read every, single, word of, even if I’ve read almost all of your other stuff when it reaches me? I only know of you from your childhood acting (my 24 yr old son’s favorite movie of all time is Stand By Me) and your adult voiceover work, which is to say I don’t know you at all. But I wanted to stop, like you, and take a moment to tell you that you really do matter, and what you do matters. And you are a helper who is really helping.
I am no one you should know. I’m not a geek or a gamer, I’m someone’s wife and mom and I’m just a regular person living a regular life. I live in NY and I’m a 61 yr old interior designer who simply wants to say in the immortal words of Whoville – we are here, we are here, we are here. There are many, many of us who feel like you, and have those days of absolutely no energy because we are frogs boiling in a pot whose temperature is no longer subtle. Don’t ever think there is no point, and don’t ever stop using your platform because connection matters. Especially now. I am across the country and you touched me and made me stop and write this because I felt seen and because paying attention to nature and birds is really freaking important right now. So is talking about our despair. That is not nothing. Those of us frozen in the daily horror and who just physically can’t be in denial (I know a thing or two about trauma and hypervigilance myself) all need to find, and comfort each other when we can.
So keep on keepin on Wil Wheaton. And I will ask the benevolent universe to bring you peace in your writing and your mind.
YES! Well said!!
I’m glad you share this. Because by doing so, you helped me slow down, too. I can literally feel how my body is calmer. <3 And, as a fellow friend with CPTSD who has also done IFS/EMDR therapy to heal, I can use these lovely reminders, so thank you.
I think maybe people voted for Trump cause they thought he was to dumb to make sanury dis like In DS9 Past Tence. But like the Burn in the New STAR TRACK show some times things have to get bad before there’s enough political capital to get better.
Thank you for your post today. I needed the reminder that I am a helper and the cosmic horror may not be there forever. I will not surrender in advance.
Heh. We do some of the same mind-management things, but for different underlying reasons.
One of my favorites for the past year has been a “gratitude meditation” each evening, where I review my day and list the SPECIFIC events and interactions for which I’m grateful. No repeating things, like, “I’m glad I live in SoCal.” No, the list must be composed of what was specifically contained in the day, such as interactions with others or new observations.
The first effect it had was to make me pay attention to the moments in my day! Just as you did during your walk with Marloe. Not just “passing through”.
Gotta say, though, on the day after my therapist first suggested it to me, I was so depressed that I was afraid I’d have an empty list that evening. It triggered some anxiety that moved to dread that then took me to the tingling edge of panic. Still, I went about my day, and just tried to notice and appreciate things.
That evening, I had quite the list! It contained things that were always happening, but that I had failed to take note of. Things like the truly interesting person in the drive-thru. As I went through the list, I was nearly moved to tears. It didn’t make my depression or anxiety any less, but it expanded my self-awareness to the point that those things simply took up a smaller fraction of my existence. It provided balance, my inner world expanded by noticing the details in the outer world around me.
My Gratitude Meditation doesn’t “fix” anything. It doesn’t make the self-work I’m doing any less or go any faster. It doesn’t affect things like my procrastination. What it does do is give me room to feel and think, to not let any one thing dominate my headspace.
If only it would help me start journaling, instead of posting comments on other’s posts.
THANK YOU for expressing this blog stuckness! I am the same, I read your blog back in the day when we all had blogs. I struggle to write much on the blog anymore – I just feel that it’s all been said. Sigh. I still keep up my reading list, but I don’t post much otherwise. I am going to start trying to do more day to day stuff at my BLOG rather than Facebash. Thank you for the prompt. XO
Thank you, Wil. I feel stuck too! I’ll take some quiet time to think about this and see if it jogs anything loose.
OO, discord! Thanks for the idea! Joined!
We love all the black birds in our yard. They visit at 3pm daily, and pick all the grubs out of the lawn. One is smarter and digs up the acorns, takes them up to the cement roof tiles, lodges them in a corner, and cracks the acorn open. I can nearly set the clock by their arrival. Birds are fun.
I can relate to your musings. Now is way different from before, and aging is not making anything easier to deal with exactly. But it is encouraging that you are finding tools to help with your things. That gives me some hope to try things too, and just calm down and breathe a bit.
Beautiful writing.
I have started doing something I call looking for glimmers. A spot during your day where you’re able to feel joy or freedom or happiness. And then write down what that moment was.
I bought a tambourine for my car. I play it when there’s a good song on my radio.
Glimmers of the day that make me feel hopeful
YES! GLIMMERS!
I had forgotten. Thank you <3.
Thank you!! I love you and your insights and your writing!!!
Thanks for the post about real life. I really needed a break from the “important” stuff to be reminded about the actually important stuff like the wonderful creatures we share the planet with.
Thank you. I needed this.
Towhee is the bird that made me a birder. My girlfriend (now wife of 34 years) and I were hiking in the Catskill mountains. We heard what we now know was the distinctive “drink your Teaeeeeee” call, and were determined to find this bird. After hiking a half mile, following it as it kept fliting down the trail just out of sight, we finally saw it. We had literally JUST bought a Peterson guide, so we went page by page until we found the bird, and then learned that it is usually found by sound, not sight, because its call is so distinct. Made us lifelong birders.
I have to admit I rarely read your blog posts (because they’re long and I have both ADHD and this chronic business thing) but I made time tonight and am very glad I did. Thank you for sharing about your walk and the dog and nature stuff. I care about those things as much as the “big things”…they are actually gold, right? I remember when I thought birds were boring and my Mum was weird for enjoying watching the birds in her garden as keenly and as much as she did. Then one year it just became me 😆 I love corvids but pigeons hold a special place in my heart too…they are so sweet and gentle, they make me melt…!
What I’m taking from this is the reminder: If we give up doing something we love, we have surrendered in advance.
It’s exhausting and enraging to be a person who is paying attention – and we need to nurture our spirits.
I continue to find strength and encouragement in the words you choose to share. Thanks for continuing to put yourself out there, even when it feels heavy.
We must celebrate the small things that make us happy. Sometimes its the only thing that gets you through everything else. If we stop letting the sun shine on our face, hear the birds, write a “dumb” post we deny ourselves and others a chance to open “the door into summer” for a few moments. We all need that door. Because in opening the door the classic paradox can happen. The door, the respite, the option to think of other things can possibly influence yourself and others. A small kindness that only shows up as good sometime in the future.
This was just what I needed to read today. This has been the worst year ever and we’re barely three weeks into it. Thank you.
I’m so jealous of your relationship with the Kevins. We have a fairly good size group of corvids in and around our area, but I have no idea how to go about making friends. Those kind of walks are magical, I can’t wait to restart mine with Luna once winter is done abusing my arthritis. Maybe Marlowe would like a play date? If y’all are ever in St. Louis say hey. Peace 🙏
Hey, Wil. Good job to YOU, buddy (and obviously Marlowe too of course). This blog, this day, this reminder? This is being a helper. You didn’t have to share this wisdom, but you chose to, because that’s what helpers do. Thank you 🙂 Yesterday, I had a total fight or flight moment (it’s always going to be flight for me) about doing the job I love, that I chose as my second act, that is my meaning and purpose in the world. Why? Because I felt overwhelmed and I didn’t manage my expectations. Thanks for reminding me, and us, that our everyday reactions are worthy of love and support, not judgement and self-criticism. Thanks for sharing your journey with us, so we can see that process in action. So glad that you’re finding the tools that are working for you. Long may that continue. Also, yep, still punk as fuck and corvids rule 🙂
Thank you for this one. Must admit i often spin through my emails, but this one really slowed me down and touched me. Powerful observations.
Cheers
Heh, I just gave a nibling a bday card that said ‘Welcome to the “I REALLY REALLY REALLY care about what the birds in my backyard are doing” years!’ It suits.
I feel you on the blog. The past fair while now, I’ve found myself missing the ‘LJ in its heydey’ years. I’m stuck between kicking my DW account back to life or looking for another platform with similar controls. In the meanwhile, the dustbunnies in my head continue to amass and mutate, although they seem to be enjoying their current dustbadger stage. Maybe I’ll just have a dustbadger rave tonight instead…..
This is a great post, Will. It’s lovely to read something more calm and interesting.
Any day where you befriend a corvid is a good one.
Thank you for being here and for being you.