I’m Okay, Are You?

October 1, 2026 //
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I’m okay, for most values of “okay”. It’ll have to do. It’s honestly not worth the effort to bitch about anything going on with me. Mundane stuff. How are you? I care and I’m curious. (Comment if you wish.)

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

I’m sitting at the halfway point on this hike, and probably life as well (if I’m lucky enough to be around to see 120-ish). I have felt as though I’ve been living life “at the halfway point” for awhile now, 15-20 years maybe. It has been a time of struggle, change, healing, and growth. I’ve made some good friends in this time, I’ve probably lost more.

…There’s never a guarantee that life’s scale would balance for me as an unremarkable individual human primate, one of many…

I breathe, exhale, and relax. The cycle is a simple one. My day begins. I do my best. I survive the experience. I sleep, wake, and begin again. And again. And again. Eventually, the sands of time will run out on this one mortal experience. I’ve no idea what’s after that – no one has come back to say. I sit with that thought awhile. Uncertainty. Impermanence. Change. Big ideas that seem smaller under the black night sky. Doesn’t matter. My time. My thoughts.

I meditate. Enjoy the mild autumn morning. Watch for daybreak. Write a few words. I’d rather be setting up my easel for another piece, but it’s a work day. I think ahead to the weekend. Soon.

This is one of those mornings that feels almost like a throwaway moment, “nothing to see here”, as if it were a rerun, and not because I have a routine. It’s more that the moment is unremarkable, which is true in all but one way; the very ordinariness itself. The gentle mundanity is so spectacularly strange feeling to me sometimes, I find it remarkable. Very little of my life has been gently ordinary. I don’t really know whether (or quite how) to enjoy it. I wonder how many such moments I have undermined with unnecessary drama or emotional bullshit in the past simply because I didn’t know how to deal with the ordinary?

I sigh to myself and notice the trees seem more obvious, silhouetted against the sky, than they did moments ago. Daybreak soon, I suppose. Another sigh. I get to my feet and stretch, looking down the path. It’s only a moment. I begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, The Art of Being

Strange World

September 30, 2026 //
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It’s a strange world we live in. AI recruiters interviewing fake job applicants while real people struggle to find work adequate to pay the bills. A government that doesn’t get anything useful done for the people being governed, because grifters and criminals own the Whitehouse. Healthcare that sick people can’t afford. I could go on…it actually does get worse.

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

I take a deep breath of the strangely warm mild autumn air. The morning is peaceful out on this trail. Quiet. As though all is well and right with the world (it isn’t). I walk on, pulling myself back to this moment, here, now, each time my mind wanders to troubling news reports. (How about the one where the US president explicitly threatens nuclear genocide against a foreign nation?) I think about work and haul my mind back from that, too. Now is not the time for any of that. Now is a time for peace and contentment.

… How much more wonderful would this world be if each global citizen faced each moment from the position that “now is a time for peace”? Something to consider. Where do you stand on peace..?

You may be inclined to say I am being naive, but I gotta say, I didn’t kill anyone yesterday. Did you? I bet not. So, clearly it is possible not to kill. Good start on peace is not killing people. Clearly it can be done. I’m annoyed by how persistently people refuse peace and the ridiculous excuses they make to justify their hate and violence.

I sit watching the night sky. It’ll be dark awhile longer. I reflect on the lovely connected peaceful evening I shared with my Traveling Partner yesterday. He bought dinner. We hung out watching miscellaneous funny shit together and laughed. We needed some good laughs. Laughter gets people through a lot of tough times.

… So does love…

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I take in the peacefulness of this quiet morning. I’m grateful for another day. For the moment, shrugging off chronic pain seems almost effortless (it isn’t really, I simply took appropriate medication soon enough to get ahead of it a bit). Meditation. Write a few words. Sit with this peaceful now. Enjoying the darkness before dawn. Gathering my resolve to face the challenges of a new day. Wondering for a moment what the day might hold…

Hints of daybreak lighten the sky slowly. I think about beginning again.

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Categories Allegories, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Love, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, The Art of Being, Words

Bad Dreams, But…

September 29, 2026 //
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Okay so, yeah, I’m having a lot of bad dreams lately. Even when they aren’t “nightmares”, they’re often deeply unpleasant.

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

I woke this morning, grateful for the bright light of my silent alarm; better than the dream I was having. Hell, I’m not surprised by the bad dreams – have you seen the state of the world? The shameless exploitative corporate greed? The thoroughly corrupt government? The war in Ukraine? The genocides? Oh yeah, more than one of those going on, it isn’t limited to Palestine. How can human beings be so incredibly vile?

I’m struggling to maintain perspective, I admit it. I feel disappointed (in humanity, generally) and I feel betrayed on an unreasonable personal level. I was stationed in Germany when the Berlin Wall came down. It was such a proud moment for humanity and I felt such hope for the world. I sigh quietly as I walk the dark trail with my dark thoughts.

I get to my halfway point and stop. I just stand there in the dark awhile, after turning off my headlamp, letting my eyes adjust, watching the stars. After a handful of uncounted minutes gazing into the eternal darkness of the vast night sky, I sit down and cry awhile. I don’t fight the tears. No shame. No guilt. Only emotions I can’t quite process without allowing for the grief. Grieving is powerful stuff and difficult to control or limit or reason with, and now and then I am flooded with tears over what we have all lost – all those lives, all the wasted potential, all the hurting and the sorrow.

…We could do better…

I was once a soldier in an army. I have been to war. I have looked directly into the eyes of my enemy and found that he was every bit as human as I am myself. No one walks away unchanged. We live with the consequences of our actions,  that’s just real. I sigh to myself. I’m grateful to have gotten out alive. I’m grateful to see another sunrise. I’m grateful to have my Traveling Partner’s warm, loving embrace when the weight of the world threatens to pull me down into the depths of madness and grief (and even when he’s dealing with his own shit, he is there for me).

Being human is hard. Being the best human being the resources and experience available permit a person to be is harder still, and it for sure feels like a lot of people aren’t even trying.

I’m grateful for this solitary time to just get shit right in my head before a new day begins. Most days this is the only solitude I have. The rest of my day is interacting with people at work, and out in the world, some days so continuously that by the time I get home to my beloved I have nothing left to give. That seems thoroughly unfair, to the two of us. I embrace the little bit of “me time” life permits me to have and try not to bitch about it not feeling like enough. …At least I don’t also have children.

My beloved pings me. We converse a bit. The clock ticks on. My head aches ferociously and slow tears fall for a moment and stop. At 14 I once felt very similarly, I think, sort of lost, and frustrated-angry-sad. I dealt with it by packing a small bag with everything I thought I would need (it wasn’t), and I walked away. (It would be weeks before I turned up and ultimately went back, but that’s a story for another time.) I hadn’t yet learned that we cannot escape who we are so easily. I’d hug her if I could and assure her it gets better…then wonder if I should also tell her it’s going to get so much worse, first?

I breathe, exhale, and relax. The world is a pretty chaotic and sometimes grotesquely frightening place, but right here? Right now? This moment? It’s fine. A woman on a hiking trail looking at the stars. It is peaceful and beautiful. I make room to enjoy this moment as it is. A lifetime is built on moments; it important to savor the pleasant ones, whatever the circumstances.

The mild almost warm morning wraps me gently. The first hints of daybreak begin to develop. I watch the sky quietly. I think about these mortal lives and the place we hold in the cosmos. We are so tiny, so fragile and finite – how is it these moments feel so important? I sit with my thoughts until it is time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, Free Will, gratitude, grief, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, The Art of Being, War and News of War, women, Words

Keeping It Real

September 28, 2026 //
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Just saying, I have bad days, too…

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

… Some days I don’t sleep well and I really feel it. Sometimes chronic pain is more than I feel like I can manage. Sometimes love isn’t a merry playground. Sometimes I burn dinner, or stub my toe, or get my stupid hair brush tangled in my damned hair before I’m quite awake in the morning.

… Some days it just feels like a lot to deal with, this whole “being human” thing, and it’s definitely not “fair“. Some days it just fucking sucks from end to end for no obvious reason…or at least it feels that way in the moment.

I put my head down on my desk, where I’m co-working, and I just start crying. It’s nothing particular, I’m just feeling the weight of the world and circumstances, and very much wishing my resilience wasn’t born of endless effort and constant practice.

It’ll pass, I know that. It’s only a moment. A very human moment to be sure, but it’s still only a moment. I sniffle back the last few tears and use my last tissue to dry my eyes and blow my nose. I still have hours of work ahead of me, and it’s time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, grief, meditation, Metaphors, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being, War and News of War, Words

Sometimes It’s Complicated

September 28, 2026 //
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Morning. Another one. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful to see another sunrise. Life gets complicated sometimes, though, and it is a lot to take. It’s rarely “all on me”, or even about me (in many cases it’s nothing to do with me at all).

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

It’s not even daybreak yet. It’s quite dark on the trail this morning – clear starry sky, the full moon overhead.  I walk down the familiar trail with a measure of confidence, the bobbing circle of light ahead of me from my headlamp is plenty to see by. I walk with my thoughts, enjoying these moments of peace and quiet reflection; they may be the only such moments in a busy complicated day.

I get to my halfway point and take a seat on the nearby bench.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. Chilly morning. I’m grateful for the warm sweater and cozy cardigan I threw on over it. I can see my breath this morning. Fall. The potential beauty of the morning is thrown off by concern for my Traveling Partner. I find myself wondering whether I should call out from work to take care of him today? For the moment my own pain takes a back seat in my awareness. I breathe deeply, and exhale slowly, working to stave off my stress before it can become a panic attack. My partner needs me to be capable and to provide care. I remind myself that I did it for two years, and I can resume doing so capably, now, when my beloved needs me.

Breathe. Exhale. Relax. Sometimes shit gets complicated. That’s just life. We all go through shit, and it is sometimes the worst we’ve ever been through. Resilience is built over time, but it can sure feel like it can be used up in an instant.

I sigh to myself feeling restless, and for a moment a little trapped and hopeless. I remind myself that change is, and very few moments last. Most things are pretty impermanent, actually, so I take another breath, exhale again, and do my best to relax. I’ll keep practicing.

Still not daybreak yet, but there is the faintest hint of something more deep dark blue than utterly black about the sky. A new day. I keep working to quell my panic (an inner voice snarls at me, “no one has time for this weak ass shit, knock it off”). Breathe. Exhale. Relax. Repeat as needed. I struggle to get comfortable with myself this morning. My mind refuses to settle down or focus, like hearing a fire alarm I know is a test, and still feeling it is urgently necessary to leave the building. This is absolutely not a test – it’s life. Sometimes it’s complicated.

I sigh to myself and hope I get through the day with my perspective intact, and able to provide any caregiving my partner needs. I stupidly look at my watch in the dark. Pointless. I do know it’s time to begin again… I get to my feet and turn to head on down the trail and back to the car.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, health, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being, The Big 5
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