My Return to The Physical World

Saturday. February 21, 2026

Surprised & Delighted—By Rediscovering Geography

Studying geography is deepening my understanding of world politics by revealing the physical realities that sit beneath international relations. I’ve found that while historical events and charismatic leaders capture our attention, it is the unchanging—or very slowly changing—physical conditions of the Earth that constantly factor into major decisions.

I’m enjoying relearning what I first encountered in grade school. Re-experiencing why a mountain range or a deep-water port clarifies a news story makes my understanding of the world feel more grounded and, importantly, more real.

My most impactful readings so far are Zbigniew Brzeziński’s The Grand Chessboard (1997) and Hal Brands’ The Eurasian Century (2025). Brzeziński sets the geopolitical stage of the 90s, while Brands carries that vision into today’s world. My long-ignored world globe, now dusted off, constantly clarifies texts.

A stack of similarly intelligent books awaits me, and the more I learn, the more I want to share this widened lens.

Why Geography Disappeared

If you are rediscovering geography and are surprised by its relevance, it isn’t because the world changed—it’s our way of seeing it.

Many of us left geography behind in the fifth grade, filed away with pull-down maps and memorized capitals. As curricula shifted toward civics, ideology, and economics, geography faded. Later, the rise of 24-hour streaming news further sidelined our loss by favoring vivid, emotional storytelling over the slow-moving realities of terrain and distance.

Maps vs. Movements

Modern news often favors people over places—focusing on leadership personalities, voter blocs, and moral claims. These stories are intended to capture attention quickly, but they often lack depth.

I have found a few political storytellers who work differently. They explain events by first studying an area’s strategic position, climate, and access. Because geographical conditions move slowly, understanding them requires a level of patience that modern news rhythms rarely allow. We’ve been trained to think of politics through the lens of belief—who is “right” or “wrong”—while the physical world is treated as mere background scenery.

But geography is more than scenery; it’s an active, ongoing force.

The Comfort of Narrative

Geography introduces stubborn realities that can be uncomfortable. Conflicts are often simpler to frame as “bad leaders vs. good values.” That provides senses of clarity and emotional satisfaction.

By contrast, geography focuses on chokepoints, climate, and resource scarcity—complex factors that don’t yield to elections or diplomacy. This reality can feel unsettling because it challenges the comforting notion that history will naturally bend toward a peaceful resolution. It reminds us that persistent conflicts often stem from the Earth’s physical constraints and human struggles to sustain growing populations.

Geography is Returning

Globalization once promised a world where ideas and goods would move seamlessly across borders. But recent years have taught us otherwise. We’ve seen supply chains fracture and energy sources remain unevenly distributed. Technology can compress time, but so far, it cannot eliminate distance.

We are relearning under pressure what earlier generations understood almost intuitively: that ports, islands, and frozen corridors matter. The Earth has unarguable physical conditions, and we are simply the humans debating within them.

Reading the World Again

Returning to geography doesn’t replace my moral concerns; it adds depth to them. I’m slowing down, examining world maps, and asking:

Where exactly is this happening?
What physical constraints are shaping these choices?
Does this mapped position produce courage—or fear?

These questions offset the frustration caused by incomplete news stories. Geography doesn’t belong solely in a child’s classroom; it is a vital lens for refining our understanding of power, conflict, and human behavior. It isn’t a nostalgic return to the past—it is a way to finally see the world we actually live in.

— Diana

What The Ground Explains

Saturday, February 07, 2026

I watch politics closely—elections, speeches, conflicts, public arguments. What nations and business leaders say, how they perform, what promises they make, and whether their promises suggest moralities. I hope for straightforward explanations, yet usually feel unsatisfied.

Lately, I’m adjusting how I watch, trying to make new headway. This shift began with something unexpectedly familiar from my grade-school years. I recently read several articles by a respected geography professor, reminding us that geography is a critical factor in nearly everything happening politically. That reminder started filling gaps, making sense of confusion, and changing how I interpret political reporting.

For years, I’ve focused on political performances—rhetoric, personalities, alliances. Now, I’m including geographic realities, and many maneuvers that once felt irrational have started making sense.

I hadn’t thought about geography since elementary school. Those old fifth- and sixth-grade maps had faded long ago. But now, re-educating myself, I’m discovering much that I once memorized without enough understanding, that geography is essential to understanding nearly everything in our near and larger worlds.

Contemporary political reporting rarely gives geography enough due. Yet, geography is all about hard-nosed realities—the earth’s shapes and limits. Mountains block. Rivers guide. Ports matter. Climate dictates what will grow, where people will settle, and how societies endure stress. These shapes and conditions are like energies—moving along known routes that are difficult—often impossible—to reroute. Many borders established long before modern politics simply are, and those substantially influence national choices and behaviors.

Geographic awareness clarifies much of what’s confusing about world politics. Map shapes underlie recurring patterns of wanting, choosing, and leading. Terrain, resources, and location create real constraints, making some desired changes unattainable, no matter how compelling the argument.

Politicians argue intentions. But there’s ground beneath those arguments that dictates—and limits—ambitions. Modern pressures intensifying physical constraints are growing populations, greater social awareness, and tighter margins. Political values and alliances ultimately hinge on coastlines, chokepoints, arable land, and distance.

Geography can seem humbling, perhaps overwhelmed by modern social needs. But contemporary demands still operate within physical boundaries established by ancient populations.

I’m relearning what I once memorized while too uninformed to understand enough. My refreshed geographic awareness doesn’t shout—it simply persists. And shaped by forces that ensure, it’s helping politics feel less like exhausting theater.

For readers who prefer receiving these morning pieces by email, I’m also publishing them on Substack.

— Diana

Beyond The American Frame

Friday, January 30, 2026

The other morning, in my habit of reviewing this nation’s headlines, I felt drawn to look beyond American-focused news. I began exploring the politics of a wider world—not chasing headlines, but searching for common ground beneath obvious differences. I wanted to understand how nations connect.

It didn’t take long to realize how limited my usual perspective is. That surprised me. I consider myself reasonably informed. Yet I mostly read American—and occasionally British—reporting. Stepping outside that frame was clarifying. And unsettling.

Several thoughts arrived quickly. First, what we call liberalism began to feel more local than global. Second, the technologies we’re learning to live with—communication systems, weapons, and influence itself—are advancing far faster than human moral development. And third, an uncomfortable question surfaced: how does more information become more wisdom?

Around the same time, a longtime friend emailed me about something she’d done recently. She and a group of like-minded people had stood on a busy corner, holding signs protesting two recent, unjustified killings in Minneapolis by ICE representatives. She felt good about participating in the group. Passing drivers responded—some with honks and gestures of support, others with opposing signals.

She was describing real action—sincere, hopeful, and embodied: information paired with conviction. That energy brought people out of warm homes and into freezing cold, to stand visibly in a public space. Their intent was clear. Their message landed. It informed, captured attention, and felt meaningful.

That was action. Various generations are relearning the value of immediacy—gathering, using creative signage, and collective voices to inform and encourage.

But wisdom feels like a different animal.

Wisdom seems to grow more slowly. It comes from questioning rather than signaling; from context rather than reaction. It asks us to consider the present alongside history, to tolerate complexity, and to be patient with uncertainty—long enough to evaluate what we’re seeing.

I’m for both—action and wisdom.

I value immediate, creative actions that inform quickly and speak to deeply held beliefs. I also value the slower work of seeking wisdom—going beyond volume and urgency to deepen understanding. So I’ll keep looking for information that enlarges perspective rather than simply adding noise.

My path forward means paying closer attention to places I’ve barely followed: Venezuela, where events continue to unfold; parts of Africa, whose political and economic transitions have long been fascinating—especially now, as gold mines close and international gold prices surge.

I don’t know exactly where my curiosity might lead. But I feel convinced that understanding the politics and social conditions of the wider world deserves my closer attention—and that emerging wisdom will help illuminate, for me, more of American leadership’s content, choices, and possible consequences of its decisions.

For readers who prefer receiving these morning pieces by email, I’m also publishing them on Substack.

— Diana

Different Realities

Friday, October 17, 2025

I grew up in a small Oklahoma town during a time when social norms encouraged people to reconcile their differing versions of the world by searching for and settling on common viewpoints. The best solution for conflicting opinions was usually to satisfy the “commonly held” middle ground. Such viewpoints tended to reflect the widely accepted and “popular truths” that most people—before the internet and modern technology—generally agreed upon.

As a young person, I found the differing versions of reality unsettling. I struggled to make sense of them before eventually realizing that many forces shape people’s perceptions—one’s upbringing, information sources, fears, hopes, and fatigue. Other influences too—culture, personal experience, and cognitive biases—play powerful roles in shaping how we each perceive truth and reality.

Even now, I’m sometimes taken aback when long-time or new friends express opinions or wishes that seem to belong to an alternate reality. Some might find such moments reassuring, as evidence of progress, while others might see them as signs of decline. I’ve come to sense that some people find comfort in tradition while others draw inspiration from innovation. Recognizing that helps me accept our differing realities.

I often imagine us all standing in the same landscape, each looking up at the same vast sky but through different filters—some perhaps tinting it with unusual colors. Each of us navigates life through a private, learned lens, one that has either been refined over time or obscured by it.

In my more mature years, I try to respond gently to others’ realities. I no longer attempt to reconcile their perspectives with mine—or mine with theirs. As others speak from their own worlds, sometimes so different from my own, I try to listen for the heartbeat beneath their words—for the universal emotions of worry, pride, love, or loss. It’s there, in those shared emotional spaces, that our realities overlap and understanding becomes possible.

These days, I keep my focus on what’s directly before me—my own, very real world. That includes my dogs at dawn, the fall season’s newly chilled air, and the always-marvelous scent of early morning coffee. These rhythms mark the beginning of my days; they are among my certain truths.

We often hear that our shared world is fracturing. That notion is open to many interpretations. Yet despite our differences, many of us still believe in shared ground—the small, tangible things we can all see and touch.

We may never fully align others’ realities with our own, but we can remain faithful to the core values that most people strive to live by and nurture in their daily lives.

After all, we are remarkable beings—capable of rising to the challenges of caring for one another.

— Diana

Yes!

Sunday, January 05, 2025

Today’s header image–“a find” in my Facebook feed–perfectly speaks for itself. A snapshot of joy and beauty that reminds me of many fun outings, most specifically, “chasing rising full moons” with my friend Susie. This image “says it all” without needing a caption.

The Calvin and Hobbes strips brilliantly point to adult sophistication using the antics of a six-year-old hyperactive boy and his “toy” stuffed tiger. I enjoy these strips that reconnect me to my early learning and to “my now.”

Last night, in a phone conversation with my longest-time friend, Linda, we reflected on the passage of time and on the evolution of human awareness. We discussed some complexities of living and marveled over the gradual unfolding of awareness between youth and maturity. Our periodic catches-up on each other’s lives helps us measure how much we’ve learned and continue to grow over the years.

We mutually recognize that a life journey involves self-discovery and expanding perspectives. Last night’s conversation, like most of ours, deepened our connection.

Later, I continued pondering the intricate tapestry of human experience and am still reflecting on it this morning. I selected today’s header image because it reflects many of the positive human attributes Linda and I were discussing.

Dear Friends: The “human experience” is rich with laughter, love, loss, and growth. Diana

Woke Revisited

Wednesday, November 13, 2024

I am reading Bill Bryson’s The Body: A Guide for Occupants and Richard Dawkins’ The Genetic Book of the Dead: A Darwinian Reverie. These are making me very aware of being human at the genetic level.

Briefly defined, genes store and transmit information that guides an organism’s development and function. They don’t have brains or consciousness; however, they exhibit “intelligence” in how they respond to their environment and interact with each other. Genes can sense changes in their environment and adjust their activity accordingly to influence each other’s activity.

While absorbing genetic realities, I wish to comprehend the mechanisms that enable humans to self-perceive as individuals. I’m asking age-old questions about a “real reality” existing beyond whatever the genes sense, or in other words, is there “something real” outside ourselves?

It certainly seems that way and requires finding a beyond-the-gene-view.

A genetic perspective is limiting. It reduces our experience to biological mechanisms and doesn’t account for consciousness, emotions, or the subjective experience of being human. I wish to understand more about what creates the human realm of consciousness, awareness, and subjective experience.

The referenced books are easy reads and highly enjoyable. They are pushing questions about the existence of a reality beyond our physical perceptions. Ultimately, questioning “real reality” will prove to be deeply personal and philosophical, and there won’t be right or wrong answers.

I am an individual exploring. I might find myself forced to define my unique understanding of what constitutes “real reality.”

Dear Friends: I’ll keep reading and hopefully will gain more clarity. Diana