Every Dawn a Beginning

February 13, 2026 //
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I reach my halfway point on this local trail at dawn. The sky is just beginning to lighten. I turn off my headlamp and have a seat on the bench that is conveniently here. Truth is, this is my “halfway point” specifically because of the bench. It’s actually a little further than halfway. The morning is quiet. This new day is still more darkness than daylight. It’s early, but not particularly cold (40F/4.4C). The forecast says rain later, and my arthritis agrees.

I sit quietly awhile, without writing, breathing in the moment. It’s enough as it is: complete, quiet, serene, and mine.

My beloved Traveling Partner gave me some really cute stickers as a sweet token of his affection evening before last, and some cute Bubu & Dudu charms for my computer monitor. Last weekend, he got me a delicious little cake that caught my eye during a rare moment craving chocolate. It was delightful!

Love takes many forms.
(So many forms.)

We don’t tend to make a big deal of Valentine’s Day. But… I’d like to get him a little something. I don’t know what. Considering his sweetness this year, I probably should have been thinking about it sooner. Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day. 😆

A small herd of deer ambles by, single file, staying on the trail. Each eyes me curiously as they pass, unconcerned. I sit quite still to avoid startling them. They pass by so near to me I could reach out and touch them.

I sit with my thoughts awhile longer. No reason to rush through the moment. Savoring pleasant moments is a way to slow that ticking clock a little bit. Present, aware, and enjoying the moment as it is, time really does seem to slow down. I breathe, exhale, and relax. Taking time to meditate each morning does a lot to set up the day to be a good one. Later, coffee, work, people…all of it. For now, this quiet solitary moment. It’s enough.

I sigh softly, contentedly. I’ve got a three day weekend ahead. I haven’t made any plans. My Traveling Partner has mentioned wanting to get away for a day or two himself, if he finds himself feeling up to it. I smile, thinking about the care I’ve taken with his truck while my car is in the shop. I remembered to fill the tank this morning, too. It’ll be ready for him if he should choose to take off for a day or two.

The prematurely mild weather keeps bringing my thoughts back to camping, but realistically I’m pretty miserable camping in cold (even chilly) weather. I definitely prefer nighttime lows to be above 55F (12.7C). I can wait.

I bring myself back to this moment, here, now. Sunrise is still a way off, but there’s enough light now to see the trail without my headlamp. This seems as good a time as any to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, joy, Love, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, The Art of Being, The Big 5, winter, women, Words

Can We Not, Please?

February 12, 2026 //
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I get to the halfway point of this predawn trail walk a bit out of breath, feet, ankles and knees aching from my needlessly aggressive stride. I stop, grateful for the convenient bench. I remind myself to breathe, to exhale, to relax, and too refrain from allowing other people’s drama to camp out in my head rent free.

… Let it go, I remind myself…

I have no idea what woke the household. I thought my Traveling Partner woke me as he got up, more specifically one single cough woke me. I rolled over and went back to sleep. Some time later, I woke again. It sounded like my beloved was really having a rough time, and struggling to breathe. I got up and dressed, surprised to find the hall bathroom occupied as I left the bedroom. The Anxious Adventurer was up, too. Very strange – he’s rarely up so early. I use the other bathroom, and before I finish getting ready for the day, I hear my Traveling Partner’s raised voice, swearing, frustrated and angry over not being able to breathe, and then an assortment of slammed doors.

To avoid becoming triggered and then having to deal with that shit all day, I depart quickly, wishing my beloved a good day as I exit. I’m still deeply irritated at the lack of consideration and the disrespect in the door slamming, but haven’t yet addressed it directly with the household; I’m still seething and I would prefer to approach things clearheaded. Later.

“Now” is mine. It’s peaceful and quiet on the trail this morning. The setting moon was an amber sliver, curved and beautiful, gone from view now. The night sky is dark. My tinnitus is loud in my ears, but the world seems quiet. It is an illusion, of course. Human primates haven’t figured out peace as a species. We slam doors and yell, we drop bombs and commit genocides, we murder people over the language they speak, the god they worship, or the color of their skin. Human beings know little of peace. We tend to put more effort into being angry. It’s a shame. We could do better.

We could start small, perhaps… stop yelling, stop slamming doors, stop taking a tone of righteous anger, and instead take a fucking breath and a step back to gain perspective. Stop feeding our inner demons. Engage each other in a reasonable measured tone. Ask clarifying questions. Assume positive intent. Behave with decorum, because it is a choice and we have the will to be the person we most want to be. I say it… but my words are unlikely to change your behavior. You’re walking your own path, same as I am walking mine. So… I’ll work on that, myself, because it matters to me. I too need practice. I’m very human.

I breathe, exhale, and relax, sitting here in the darkness. I reclaim my peace. Feels good. The work day stretches ahead of me, soon enough but not now. I pull my attention back to this moment right here. It’s a chilly morning, but above freezing, and I’m warmly dressed. My fingers are cold, from writing. I’m not concerned; I’ll warm up when I resume walking.

I sit awhile with my thoughts. This bit of solitude each morning is a big piece of my self-care. It is too cold for camping (for me) just yet, and I’ve been feeling seriously “over” dealing with people, lately. Like, at all. I could use a few days alone with my pastels, disconnected from my devices. I sigh to myself. I’d love those few days to be at home, but it doesn’t seem likely, or even reasonable under current circumstances. G’damn, though, we’re going on six years in this little house and I’ve never been alone in my own home for more than a few hours. I breathe in deeply, and exhale slowly, thoroughly, letting go of my resentment with my breath. It’s not personal, just circumstances. I let it go. I have these solitary mornings, and they go a long way toward meeting this need for solitude.

I’ve got a three day weekend ahead… maybe I’ll do something with that? I chuckle to myself. Like the roses and herbs in my garden, I find myself behaving as though Spring is imminent. It probably isn’t. Still, I’m glad I spent time in the garden after work yesterday, pruning and weeding. I didn’t get a lot done, but it was soul-satisfying work. The days are getting longer, and the afternoons are warm enough to comfortably work outside, when it isn’t raining. It’s enough.

I sigh again, mildly vexed by this headache that seems to have become a constant companion over the past 13 years now. I swallow my morning medication, dry, and look down the trail. Nautical dawn arrives, and enough light to see the skyline and horizon, and make out the trail without a headlamp. I stretch and get ready to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, The Big 5, War and News of War, winter, women, Words

Real

February 11, 2026 //
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I’m sitting at the halfway point on this local trail, enjoying the moment of rest, and the quiet of the predawn darkness. It’s not cold, only chilly. The pavement is damp from recent rain. I breathe the rain-freshened air contentedly, and sit in this moment. I don’t need more, not right now, anyway. This is enough.

I am briefly distracted from this real life moment by a notable urge to uninstall apps from my phone. 😆 Like a lot of people, I’m over so much of this deceitful invasive bullshit seeking to scrape another dollar from my bank account. It’s gross. Sell me a product or service and let me enjoy it – or at least use it without interference or hindrance, and definitely without a fucking subscription, or mining my personal data.

When did you last read a bound book? When did you most recently meet up with a friend in the real world, and spend the time talking with each other without ever touching your smartphone? Take notes on real paper? How about board games with friends? Drinks and conversations by a fire outside? Window shopping in town, on foot, for the fun of it? Real places and real experiences with actual human beings have so much more depth and nuance than text-based interactions online, or anything at all to do with LLMs and chatbots. Real world experiences may feel a bit less “safe”, (mostly due to the potential for contagion or gun violence) but the nuance and authenticity are worth risking a head cold, and with some care and situational awareness gun violence is relatively rare and generally avoidable. The virtual spaces we frequent have risks of their own. We’re making choices. Choose wisely. Choose human.

No AI here. No subscription (for you – I do pay for the hosting and services on this platform). Just one human being sharing thoughts, experiences, and practices with other human beings. (Thanks for taking the time!) … But seriously? You could be having a real conversation with another person on this very same topic, right now.

… I’m even suggesting it…

How many hours a day are your eyes on a screen, instead of the horizon? How many interactions with others are through some user interface on some digital platform, instead of looking into the eyes of that other person and hearing their words? Many hours probably, and dozens or even hundreds of people. Isn’t that a little sad? Go outside! Talk to your neighbors! Make actual friends of other real human beings… while you have the option, and the social skills. I’m just saying the digital world is a dim substitute.

Our mortal lives are too short as it is, please don’t waste yours as a consumer cog in a billionaire’s infinite money machine. Life has so much more to offer you. Books, movies, flowers, clouds, flavors, trails, shops, cafes… An entire world exists for our enjoyment. Don’t waste your moment.

I sigh to myself. These are not new thoughts. I often turn my ringer off to allow myself to focus on my lived experience in the moment. I’m not inclined to be bullied by a device. Two years of caregiving meant leaving my notifications on almost 24/7, and it has been hard dealing with the constant other pings on my consciousness while staying alert for my Traveling Partner to reach out if he needs me when I’m away from the house. Necessary for the time, less so now. It is a difficult habit to break, but it is important not to allow these devices to determine what I put my attention on. It takes practice.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. The sky lightens to a gray-seeming dawn, although the sky is clear. There’s a smudge of dirty orange on the eastern horizon. I hear footsteps and tense up momentarily, as I turn to see the night watchman from the nearby construction site approach on his end of shift walk. “Good morning, young lady!” he calls to me, “Almost didn’t see you there.” I wave and wish him a cheery good morning as he passes, and watch as he disappears around the next bend.  I continue to sit contentedly awhile longer. It is a work day, but I’m in no hurry. This moment is mine.

Real.

The clock ticks on. Winter is already slowly becoming Spring. I gaze into the tangled treetops, no specific purpose or thought on my mind, just enjoying the moment as it is. It’s enough. I breathe, exhale, and relax, and get comfortable for meditation, before I begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, thoughts on AI, winter, women, Words

Alone in the Dark

February 10, 2026 //
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It is well before dawn. I’m at a local trailhead waiting for the sun, or maybe just waiting.

My Traveling Partner had a rough night, sick. I felt bad for him, and woke every time he did, but I had wisely gone to bed at my usual early time, and this morning I woke clear eyed and clearheaded, feeling pretty well rested. I hope he managed to get enough rest, himself.

Yesterday was weird. Sort of blurry and surreal from fatigue, I went through the motions of work, and once I had completed everything that was time sensitive and due, I went home and crashed hard. A two hour nap put me right, enough to make a good meal for us to enjoy as a family. Not enough to put forth the effort to clean up. I was grateful to have the Anxious Adventurer’s help with that.

Another day begins. I sit in the dark with my thoughts, grateful for the quiet time alone. My beloved encouraged me to sleep in and work from home this morning. I may yet work from home, but sleeping in? Not gonna happen. I woke at my usual time, feeling quite alert and rested. 😆 I got up, dressed, and headed out into the predawn darkness, rather than risk waking everyone by bumbling around the house or tapping away on my keyboard.

It is a chilly morning, although not particularly wintry (here). It is a mild 40F (about 4.4C), and the night sky is clear and starry for the moment. The weather says a foggy morning, but so far it is not that, at all. Not in this location – and I’m certainly close enough to a creek that feeds into the Yamhill River very nearby to see some fog. On foggy mornings, it’s usually quite thick here. Perhaps the temperature will drop and a fog will develop?

I sit quietly thinking about people and places. Friends. Lovers. Family. Colleagues. Strangers who crossed my path in some meaningful way. People. Lives that matter. Lived moments, shared and unshared. Family, community, and society. Human potential.

I sigh to myself, feeling vaguely disappointed by humanity “as a whole”, but realistically, I am most disappointed with those who contribute to human misery directly through their cruelty, pettiness, violence, indifference to human suffering, and/or self-serving profit seeking at the expense of, and through the misfortune of, others. Exploitative greed and capitalistic callousness is so toxic. We could do better, but to do so would require real change, right down to the deepest layers of what individuals value. We may never be ready to become better than what we are, as a species, and it will likely be our undoing.

… Dark thoughts in the darkness. Fitting, I guess…

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I let go of my dark musings, and my mind wanders on.

I’m in more than a little pain this morning, but it’s manageable for the moment, and I don’t cling to the experience, I just note the feeling and let that go, too. I’m grateful that chronic pain and some fairly minor limitations to movement and flexibility are generally the worst of it for me. I’m still walking. I sit with my gratitude for the surgeon that day (maybe it was night?) so long ago (more than 40 years now). He was frank with me that if I didn’t have surgery to attempt to repair my fractured spine, I’d be in a wheelchair, and partially paralyzed. There was no guarantee that the surgery would be successful, and there were experimental techniques involved. Two of my vertebrae were basically crushed, and would be rebuilt using hardware and bone grafts. 16 hours of surgery… Weeks in the hospital… Months in a body cast… More months of physical and occupational therapy and restrictions on what work I could do… And eventually, the osteoarthritis arthritis and the chronic pain setting in a couple years later. Small price to pay; I survived that injury, and that marriage. The pain reminds me that freedom has a price, and that the bill will come due.

… What price are you willing to pay for your freedom? Your rights? Your survival?  The price may be quite high. Paying that bill is not optional. You may only have seconds to decide…

Choose wisely.

My tinnitus is loud in my ears. My head aches. I take notice and let those go, too. I “flip a coin” in my head; walk or don’t walk? I make my choice, and begin again.

A new day dawning, a light in the distance. Yes, it’s a metaphor.
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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, meditation, Metaphors, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, The Art of Being, The Big 5, War and News of War, winter, women, Words

Sleep

February 9, 2026 //
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My sleep used to be much worse than it is these days. I’m certain the CPAP machine helps (although wearing the mask and the experience of continuous positive air pressure are somewhat unpleasant and took getting used to). Sometimes my sleep is still of poor quality for one reason or another. Sometimes it’s just not enough sleep to feel rested. Sometimes I’m plagued by nightmares. This morning I’m faced with insufficient sleep of poor quality, due to interruptions (noise mostly).

I reliably wake up ridiculously early. Generally at 04:30, probably a lasting byproduct of early mornings in the military, construction, and long commutes for morning shifts of various sort. It requires days of leisure time without an alarm being set to boost my chance at “sleeping in”, and I rarely do. When my Traveling Partner and I were developing our friendship, he had encouraged me to take control of one factor I definitely could control to improve how much sleep I got; my bedtime. He suggested I go to bed earlier, based on when I wake and how much sleep I need (back then I was often up until midnight or later, still up early). It was advice that made a lot of difference for me. I go to bed pretty early as a result, rarely later than 21:00. (He has said, now and then, that he’d enjoy my company and would like me to stay up later, but not only do I still wake up early, I also deal often with interrupted sleep. Going to bed early is my only reliable chance at enough rest.)

Why am I on about sleep and sleep quality this morning? I didn’t sleep well last night, and didn’t get enough rest for the day ahead. It’s occupying my thoughts.

This morning I’m tired. So tired. It was after 21:00 before I went to sleep last night. I woke around 01:50, got up to pee and went back to bed, eventually falling sleep again. Sometime shortly after three, my Traveling Partner woke me. He couldn’t sleep, and was having difficulty breathing. He goes to the living room, wakeful and irritable. I try to return to sleep. Not much success. Every time I start to drift off, another noise wakes me, again. A cough. My partner trying to clear his throat or his sinuses.  The scrape of a chair along the floor. His frustration and sometimes panic feel palpable.

I definitely need more than four and a half hours of sleep, and I keep trying. I’m startled from a sound-but-too-brief moment of sleep by a firm hand knocking at the Anxious Adventurer’s adjacent bedroom door, and my partner’s irritated inquiry. I groan quietly and turn over and try sleep once more.

I drifted in and out of a restless sleep from the time my Traveling Partner woke me until the clock read 05:00 a couple hours later. My head aches. My eyeballs feel gritty and dry. I want literally nothing to do with other people, at all. At least not right now. I dress and leave the house. I don’t feel like walking, either. I just want to be alone with my irritation for awhile. I swing through a local coffee chain for too many shots of espresso over ice, black. Fuck Monday. I’m so not ready for this.

My Traveling Partner had returned to bed as I was leaving for the morning. I hope he gets back to sleep and gets some healthy rest. I get no second chances on a work day. I sigh to myself. It’s not his fault he’s having difficulty sleeping (or breathing).

I’ve set clear healthy reasonable boundaries about my sleep and not waking me if I’m sleeping, unless I’ve asked to be wakened (which I almost never do; I know how to use an alarm clock). I respect the sleep of others. Somehow I have still found myself in partnerships in which my partner(s) have found some justification for waking me, under one circumstance or another (and in some past relationships often). There’s rarely any sort of actual emergency that requires my attention, more that someone “wants a word” or to ask a question, or share a complaint. This frustrates the shit out of me, because it’s already difficult enough to get the rest I need.

Where caregiving or real emergencies are concerned, of course I roll my ass out of bed and do the needful without complaint. Everything else, I try to look past my fatigue and irritation to understand what is going on that might push a person to undermine someone else’s very necessary rest, and I try to be a compassionate and understanding partner, family member, or friend. This morning I’m having to fight through more annoyance than usual; I stayed up later last night to hang out with my Traveling Partner awhile longer, and I’m paying for it with lack of sleep. It feels “unfair”, but it isn’t really about that, and it’s definitely not personal. I made a choice. Just damned annoying that this is the outcome.

… I’m so fucking tired…

It’s been many days since I slept deeply through the night and woke feeling rested. I remind myself that it could be worse. I once endured more than a decade of sleep so poor I counted it a good night if I got even two hours of unbroken sleep, and rarely slept more than four hours total in a night. This is not that.

A new day will dawn. We can begin again.

I sit quietly at a local trailhead, listening to rain tapping the roof of my Traveling Partner’s truck. It’s comfortable and warm, and I am alone with my thoughts and my coffee. I definitely don’t feel like dealing with people right now. I’m tired, headachey, and irritable. Unfit for company. It’s too early for work. I don’t feel like walking.

I breathe, exhale, and relax, and focus on sorting myself out to face the day ahead. Soon enough I’ll have to begin again. I’ll do my best. It will have to be enough.

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Categories breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, health, Healthy Living, meditation, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, The Art of Being, The Big 5, winter, women
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