I’m sitting by the trail on a cool morning that is forecasted to become quite a hot day. I’m tired and sleepy, and probably could have slept later. This morning’s hike has felt more than usually difficult. A yawn splits my face. I stretch, wishing there were somewhere convenient to stretch out for a few minutes to close my eyes and rest.
[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]
My headache is bad this morning, and my tinnitus is loud. My muscles feel sore, although I’ve no idea why, and my major joints ache. I’m not complaining, I’m just taking inventory. Rough morning. As precious as these finite mortal moments are, I might choose to “skip ahead” to the next day, if that were an option.
A recollection of a view.
I sit with my mostly empty thoughts, watching the sky lighten as sunrise begins. The eastern horizon is covered in clouds, there is no actual sunrise to see. Facing west, I watch the sky go from vibrant pinks and peaches, to pale lemon yellow and then to a soft blue. It is sunrise enough. It’s a new day!
I feel the flames of my occipital neuralgia licking at the left side of my face. “So it’s gonna be like that, is it?” I think to myself, more than a little annoyed by all of this pain and discomfort. I breathe, exhale, and relax, and try to start my day well in spite of my discomfort. So far so… entirely average.
… I spend too much time bitching, perhaps, and too little time counting the wins, or if nothing else the steps in life that have continued to take me further and further from traumatic events now honestly so far in the past it feels a bit awkward to acknowledge they could still be a problem. The wins and the progress matter more… don’t they?
I think about steps on a path, for awhile. The journey is the destination – and I have come far. That’s worth celebrating, even when I hurt like this. Maybe especially then.
The path isn’t always lined with meadow flowers and song birds.
As the sky brightens, I begin to wake up more, which is a good thing; my work day is packed with meetings today. Ideally, I’ll be awake for those! 😆
I breathe the cool morning air deeply – then deal with the sneezing fit and runny nose that seem to be the result. I’m grateful for the pack of tissues I had hastily stuffed into my pocket when I got out of the car. I stretch uncomfortably. I sigh, exhaling the volume of air slowly. Another yawn, another stretch, another breath. Damn, I do not feel like being awake this morning.
One step at a time. One foot in front of the other. It is a progression. Some days are hard. Some days are easier. There’s always a next step. I look down the trail, thinking thoughts of paths as metaphors and considering whether to go camping this weekend and give my Traveling Partner a break. Should be good weather for it… where would I go?
I sigh to myself and look at the time. Almost time to begin again.
It happens. It’s an ordinary Monday. I got enough sleep. I woke on time, when my lights came on. I got on with readying myself for a new day, and headed out, stopping only to water the lawn. So… what’s with the crushing fucking anxiety this morning?
[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]
I breathe, exhale, and relax. I arrived at the trailhead without any difficulty – and I hadn’t expected any sort of difficulty. Everything seems pretty routine and ordinary this morning.
… and isn’t it? So ordinary and routine, and yet I am vexed by my anxiety…
Anxiety is a liar. Anxiety is an emotional and physical experience backed by a powerful cocktail of hormonal signals and internal chemistry. Learning to let it be what it is (and nothing more) is a huge step towards learning not to struggle with it. Whether or not a given moment of anxiety has any basis in reality (a real cause that makes some rational sense) is a wholly separate concern from the experience of the anxiety, and would need to be dealt with separately in any case. I sigh to myself. Fuck anxiety.
“Anxiety” 2011
I breathe, exhale, and relax – again. I keep repeating the exercise until I feel the knot in the pit of my stomach loosen, feel my jaw unclench, and begin to find the simple act of breathing actually simple once more.
Anxiety as a disorder (or element of a disorder) is not reliably attached to a real world experience or trigger. It may surface in response to something as mundane as a random thought or a brief moment of uncertainty. Trauma changes our brain, and one byproduct may be anxiety as a disorder. Why did I wake up anxious this morning? Unknown. Nothing obvious. Maybe genuinely nothing at all, or perhaps the remnant of a dream already forgotten? The important thing is to recognize that it most likely isn’t about anything, and to not bother with troubleshooting for a “root cause”. Having an anxiety disorder is the cause of disordered anxiety. So, I let that go. No point in chasing a cause.
I let my steady steps carry me down the trail as I focus on my breathing and the sights and scents of my immediate surroundings. It’s a pretty morning. The forecast says it will be quite a hot day. (I’m glad I watered!) I walk along with my thoughts, staying focused on this moment, here. The sun rises, casting a golden glow over the oaks. I get to my halfway point and stop to write a bit.
Can I lift myself out of my anxiety? Maybe. I can at least avoid making it worse by refusing to let it pull me further in, and refusing to allow it to spiral out of control, by recognizing it, acknowledging it, and keeping it firmly confined to a narrowly defined experience that I understand. It will pass. No point at all in feeding it.
Funny thing, my Traveling Partner noticed my anxiety beginning to flare up in the background before I did. Two days ago, he began observing it, calling it out, suggesting I do something more to care for myself… I didn’t feel it, and said as much. Well… I fucking feel it this morning. 😆 G’damn. Also… how annoying is that? I sigh again, feeling the weight of my emotions in my exhalation.
I stare at a lock of my long-ish brunette-ish hair in the morning sunlight. It is shot through with gray. I rarely give thought to it. My internal sense of self is much the same as it has always been… I think. Maybe not. I definitely don’t have a feeling of “being old”, yet, but I do feel my years now and then. Not so much this morning, and the gray hair surprises me a little. It is real though, more real than my anxiety.
I breathe, exhale, and relax. An ordinary day in all regards, aside from the anxiety, which I feel ready to ignore, although I know ignoring the sense of it doesn’t change the tightness in my chest, or the sensation of being out of breath, or the feeling of my pounding heart. I just have to give my chemistry time to adjust to something more commonplace, and calmer. In the meantime, I’ve got this walk to finish, and an entire day ahead of me. I guess I’ll begin again. What else?
I woke gently to my alarm brightening the room. I dressed, and slipped away quietly after I watered the lawn. Today I headed south, back to Basket Slough, but I took an alternate turn into the park, to a different trailhead, and a different perspective. Sometimes I need fresh perspective.
[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]
I parked and sat for a few minutes, listening to the sounds of the birds. So many! This trail is at the base of the hills which the trail on the other side of the park climbs into. There is a lake nearby, and this lowland trail leads to and alongside it, if the map is to be believed.
Where this trail leads.
… The map is not the world…
I set off down the trail shortly after daybreak. It is a mild morning, a bit cool, and the air smells of meadow flowers. There are so many different bird songs, even the gronking of geese and the quacking of ducks. The morning sky is cloudy.
A new day, a new path, a new beginning; bring your verbs!
I step down the trail feeling sure footed and unbothered. Lovely morning for it. I stay alert for creatures, and spot bunnies and chipmunks, and signs of something larger – maybe a skunk? Little birds everywhere.
Natural camouflage.
I keep heading down the path. I’m not expecting any sort of convenient stopping place but I happen upon a badly deteriorated primitive bench. It’s enough for a few minutes off my feet, writing. I pause for awhile.
A bench, a view, a moment.
The morning begins to feel quite chilly as I sit with my thoughts. I’m okay with that, I wore suitably warm clothing for a chilly morning.
I reflect on the weekend thus far. It’s been a pleasant one. My Traveling Partner has gotten some work done. We enjoyed some time together flying our drones (I’m still very much a beginner, still learning the basics). Unexpectedly gusty winds brought us down early, but it was incredible to see my drone in the air.
…I still have so much to learn..!
I sit looking out over the water, thinking thoughts about life, feeling strangely sleepy. I watch bunnies venture out onto the trail. They watch me. I watch them. I think about life. I think about laundry. I watch a bird of prey sailing on the air currents overhead.
I watch dawn become a new day.
Damn… I think I could use a nap! I laugh to myself. A nap would certainly be on the other side of the walk back to the parking, which seems now to be so much more distant. 😆 The walk… the drive…a shower… I’ll need to begin again to get there at all!
… That is the way of things. It is necessary to pick a step forward and get started to get anywhere…
I yawn and stretch and get to my feet. Maybe also some dusting and vacuuming? It’s on my list… and it’s time to begin again. Some moments are beautiful walks along a lakefront trail. Some moments are housework. It’s definitely time to begin again.
I woke early, with my alarm. I dressed quickly and quietly, and watered the lawn before heading for the trail. I arrived just at daybreak – ostensibly when this park opens – and as I drove into the park to the trailhead, I passed one, then another parked car. Imagine my surprise (and, frankly, my irritation) to see random cars parked willy-nilly on the narrow access road. These were no early morning hikers, either, these were over night visitors or people parked out of view, sleeping in their cars.
[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]
I sigh crossly, grateful I don’t speed down this road in the twilight of dawn. I easily could have hit one of them, parked well into the road (there being no parking at all along the access road and no pullouts).
I get to the trailhead parking. Another overnighter parked in just the stupidest fashion in a spot very much outside the actual parking and blocking the path down to a lovely river view. I swear to myself, thoroughly vexed by this bullshit. I start down the path, stepping around the truck quietly, and find myself startled by the guard dog chained beneath the truck, who lunges at me barking furiously. Well fuck that shit. I turn back even more annoyed, but not wishing to risk a dog bite.
…G’damn, fuck rude people abusing park spaces with their entitled bullshit…
I turn down a different path as I wonder “who even does this shit?!”, but I don’t really want to know – I just want my peaceful morning walk. Disappointing start. I inhale the fragrant summer air as I walk down the path into the meadow. It had been dense clover, blooming with sweet smelling purple flowers only a couple weeks ago. It has been mown since then. The tidy arrangement of rows makes me wonder what sort of farm equipment was used for the purpose. The view isn’t as lovely as when the meadow is lush and blooming. An altogether disappointing start to the day.
I get to my halfway point on this loop trail. The rock I generally sit on has a fat pile of dog shit dropped right next to it. Gross. “Fucking hell, people, clean up after your g’damned dogs”, I mutter crossly as I walk on. I have the recollection of a convenient rock or log somewhere along here… Now my walk becomes a vigilant search for somewhere to sit, instead of a peaceful, mindful, meditative progression of steps on a path.
…I feel my awareness of my own disappointment begin to evolve into seething irritation, almost anger, that sits at the edge of becoming a feeling of entitlement…
I sigh and stop. I just stop on the trail and stand for a moment, listening to the birds chirping, peeping, and singing. I lean against a large-ish maple of some kind, resting my feet. My back aches already, today. My tinnitus whines loudly in my ears, and I focus on the birds singing to assure myself that the tinnitus isn’t “real” and hasn’t actually deafened me. I breathe, exhale, and relax.
… It’s a beautiful moment, in a lovely spot along a wooded trail, on a cloudy summer morning. It’s worth redirecting my attention to here, now…
I let my irritation and disappointment dissipate. I watch robins foraging in the leaf litter at the edge of the trail. It’s a beautiful quiet morning. I hear Spring Valley Creek trickling past nearby, unseen beyond the thicket of shrubs and berry vines. Young chipmunks chase each other through the trees. The leaves of the trees shake and rustle in the breeze. The clouds hint at rain that may not come and I find myself wondering why I am in so much pain this morning? I have no enthusiasm for the work I committed to helping my beloved Traveling Partner with, today, but maybe I’ll feel more like it later. I don’t dwell on it, or on my pain.
I walk on down the path, and find myself in a pleasant glade near a bend in the path. There is an old picnic table tucked back away from the trail, in a regrettable state of disrepair, but adequate as a place to sit that isn’t on the ground (harder to get back up at 63 than it would have been at 30). I sit awhile. I write. I meditate. I wait on a moment that hasn’t yet arrived. I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s so easy to take shit personally that isn’t personal at all. Reality isn’t going to bother with correcting our mistakes for us, it will simply punish us when we’re incorrect. I sigh to myself and remind myself to do something about my pain when I get back to the car.
I don’t bother with the news today. Why would I? Ads. AI slop. Sponsored content. Cookies. Paywalls. Slanted opinions instead of clean emotionally neutral factual reporting, or honest authentic and explicitly stated personal biases revealed openly. All of it on repeat, and supplemented by copies of copies of copies shared across media groups and individuals. Completely pointless, and all of it seriously joy destroying crap targeted at getting all of us to pay someone for something. Bleh. No thanks. I sigh, feeling a little impatient even having the thought, and pull my attention back to “now”.
“View of the Willamette River” “7 x “9.5”, soft pastel on Pastelmat
It’s not reliably easy to find, make, or preserve our peace or our joy. There are verbs involved, and a willingness to persist. I’ve been finding it helpful to spend more time in my studio, painting. I smile to myself; the view I missed this morning is the view I painted from memory last night. I find some little bit of comfort, joy, and peace in that idea.
I take a deep breath of the cool summer air, smelling the scent of recently mown clover mingling with the scent of wildflowers. A bird of prey somewhere nearby screams about whatever is on their mind. The chipmunks all vanish. This moment may not be “perfect” (what ever is?), but it is mine, and it is enough. I think about the day ahead and wonder if my partner is also in more than usual pain this morning?
… Sometimes the best I can do is to keep walking, putting one foot after the other, until I get somewhere. Each day offers a new beginning, and each moment is a new chance at peace and joy. What will I do with it (besides “my best”)? The clock is ticking – today I feel it more. The clouds overhead are definitely threatening rain now – I guess it’s a good time to begin again.
It’s a pretty morning. Nothing fancy, a pretty sunrise, a nice walk on a summer morning, and it is Friday. The morning is chilly, the sky is a clear and soft cerulean blue hue, with faintly yellow edges down low on the horizon.
[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]
I walk thinking about stress, anxiety, mental health, and what it takes to thrive when the news of the day is a toxic cocktail of AI slop, advertising, and propaganda with only a sprinkling of actual news thrown in (most of it bad).
… Maybe I should paint more..?
Yesterday evening, background stress I wasn’t explicitly aware I was carrying got identified and called out by my Traveling Partner, gently. Instead of fussing resentfully, I used the opportunity to head to my studio. The timing seemed excellent for it; I’ve been trying to nudge myself to paint more – and more often! This turned out to be a good choice.
Untitled pastel, 5″ x 7″ 2026
Make of it what you will.
I definitely need to paint more! I sigh contentedly from the side of the trail. Beautiful morning, sunshine illuminating the tall oaks and the tidy vineyards. I feel inspired and unbothered.
I breathe, exhale, and relax. Nice morning for meditation. A good morning to begin again.
Evening Light 