Life.

October 29, 2026 //
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It is quiet here at the side of this trail in the darkness. It is early, before sunrise. It is autumn, chilly but not cold. Everything around me is wet from rain during the night. The clouds are dense and the sky quite dark, no stars shine through.

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

I breathe in the chilly fresh damp autumn air, grateful to breathe easily, thinking my thoughts. The freedom to walk safely in the darkness in the wee hours is precious and I make a point to savor it. I have no reason to expect that I’ll always have such freedom. It’s a strange world, and very few things are truly lasting certainties. So, I sit here contentedly for a little while, just being. Grateful.

The night was a difficult one. I sigh to myself, from frustration, or impatience, or maybe because life itself is often difficult. It could be so much worse. I practice anchoring myself to this moment here, now. It is quite a pleasant one, and it happens to be the one I’m in. Handy.

I breathe, exhale, and relax.

I hope my beloved gets the rest he needs. It is hard on him too when I am having a bad night.

Yesterday was tiring. My annual wellness check with my GP was fine. I’m in good health for my age and considering my history that’s impressive (to me). I got my flu shot. Convenient. It’s a long drive away, though, and I was tired by the time I got home. I shared a quiet evening watching videos with my Traveling Partner. All very ordinary and happily mundane.

… I’ve been having bad dreams, more or less nightly, for awhile now. Dreams of war, of chaos, of having to “mask up” in response to some threat of chemical or biological warfare then discovering the chemical agent is inside the mask… Rough. Worse are the more abstract dreams. How the hell is a dream of a “rainstorm” of strangely sticky confetti a “bad dream”?! I have no idea. What does a dream of blood going down a drain actually mean? Lucid dreaming practices sometimes help me find my way out. Waking up is a reliable way to stop a bad dream, though it does not prevent them lingering in my thoughts, sometimes for days.

This morning I’m tired but clear headed. It’s enough to get by on. The weekend is coming. I am hoping to spend much of it in the studio. How do I most easily put a nightmare to rest? I paint its picture. It is a peculiarly personal way to exorcise my demons.

A sprinkle of rain begins to fall. I get to my feet to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, art and the artist, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, health, inspiration, Love, Menopause, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, The Art of Being, War and News of War, women, Words

Weird Weather, Still Walking

October 28, 2026 //
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I slept well, and struggled to wake easily. I slipped out of the house quietly, without waking my beloved (I think).

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

The rain was fell intermittently as I drove to the trailhead. The air felt colder than the thermometer says it is. It is a relatively warm 51F/11C, and experience suggests it should feel warmer than it does. The raindrops feel warmer than I expect. It’s very strange. I get to the trail, dressed for the rain, so of course it stops raining. I begin to remove my poncho, as if to suggest confidence in the cloudy skies. As I do, it starts raining again. I laughed and put my poncho back on before I headed down the trail towards the creek on the other side of the vineyard. Nothing to see, really, it’s still quite dark and only my headlamp to light my way. I see the rain falling.

My beloved pings me a greeting. I find shelter under the trees and reply. The morning feels bright and joyful – and it’s not even daybreak yet. 😆

A break in the rain (more of a drizzle, really) and I set off again. The rain taps the hood of my poncho. A gust of wind pushes me sideways, then I overcorrect and stumble the other direction when the wind dies away. A fit of sneezing almost knocks me off my feet, but I barely give it a thought – I’m way more focused on not pissing myself as I sneeze! 😂 I stop, stand still, and catch my breath, grateful for the brief pause in the rain, and the tissues I remembered to stuff into my pocket.

When I finally reach my halfway point, it has felt like an adventure to get this far. I take shelter under the overhang of the evergreens along the creek. My usual spot is out under the open sky on the other side of the trail, but it’s raining again, so I choose differently. I sigh to myself. I won’t linger long. Today clearly isn’t the day for that.

Yeah. Rain. It is autumn in the Pacific Northwest, rain is just part of the package. Movement catches my attention. A small group of deer are walking past. One mature doe is leading three others, younger and smaller. She looks at me calmly, as she passes. They head into the trees just beyond where I’m standing. The rain continues.

I sigh to myself and finish this, eager to pull my cardigan more tightly around me and jam my hands into warm pockets. Surely I’ll warm up as I walk? I’m already looking forward to a hot shower after work. Silly human primates, always yearning for something. I grin at my very human foolishness, and begin again.

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Categories Allegories, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, The Art of Being, Words

What Weather?

October 27, 2026 //
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I had a restless night, but managed to get enough real rest to begin a new day gently. I woke from strange dreams feeling mostly pretty well-rested. I woke with a song in my head.

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

The morning is off to a comfortable start, although the song in my head hints at more. Likely nothing more than a busy Tuesday at work, but it will definitely be that.

The weather forecast a few days ago had suggested freezing or near freezing weather this week, and probably our first frost, around here. Not even close. The morning is mild and rainy, and feels almost warm. (Warm for the season, if not more generally.) I’m glad I put my rain poncho on. The morning is drizzly, and I am spattered with raindrops as I walk. Feels nice to be outside, actually. I breathe the autumn air deeply, and exhale slowly. I feel refreshed by each breath. I keep practicing as I walk; breathe, exhale, relax.

Shooting the moon.

I try to catch the moon as she peeks from behind dense clouds. I’m successful for some values of “success”. 😆 I’m fine with it. I keep walking, eventually stopping at my halfway point to write.

Over the years, as I have become more positive, more accepting, more adaptable, while learning the practices that would bring me so close to being wholly emotionally “well”, one of the most complicated challenges to emerge has had to be… being okay. Just that; learning to accept and enjoy the feeling of utterly ordinary days, pleasantly uninteresting moments, and the ordinary inconsequential mundanities of living well, has been complicated. I didn’t anticipate being emotionally well and enjoying fairly lasting contentment day-to-day might be more difficult than the process of getting there. 😆 Wild.

…Do you ever find yourself “starting shit for no reason”, or creating “drama” in the middle of a peaceful moment? Could it be that maybe you don’t feel ready to be okay after all this time…?

I breathe, exhale, and relax, watching the stormy clouds churning slowly as they sail across the night sky. It’s still awhile before daybreak. The moon has disappeared behind the clouds. I sit quietly, enjoying the darkness. I swing my feet and wonder what’s next? The year has gone by pretty quickly. 9 Tuesdays left after this one (in the calendar year).

I sigh to myself and get to my feet. Soon it will be a whole new year. Right now it’s enough to have this path (and day) ahead of me. The rain begins to fall more steadily. Time to begin (again).

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Categories 2024 Election, Allegories, Anxiety, art and the artist, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, The Art of Being, War and News of War, Words

Just a Glimpse

October 26, 2026 //
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I woke at my usual time, my usual way. I guess I’m over being sick. I dressed and headed out, eager to walk in spite of the darkness.

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

I spotted the full moon overhead as I left the house. It rested on a bed of clouds like a pearl on fluffed cotton. I could still see it as I arrived at the trailhead. It ducked behind the clouds before I could get my camera out to get a picture of the “Hunter’s Moon”. It’s been rainy, I keep an eye on the clouds hoping to see the moon again, as I put on my rain poncho.

As I set off down the trail, the moon reveals herself. I turn off my headlamp and walk in the moonlight.

Is it a great picture? No. It doesn’t need to be. It’s enough to remind me, later, of this beautiful moment.

I put my phone away, and walk on. As if aware I’m watching, the moon stays out, lighting my way.

I get to my halfway point, grateful that I made it so far, comfortably, after being sick for days. I breathe, exhale, and relax, grinning happily to myself as I recall the pleasant hours in the studio yesterday afternoon – a glimpse of what retirement might feel like. I smile to myself, like I’ve figured something out. I’m not certain I have, but there’s the hint of an idea, and the feeling of having turned a corner, or having set down some baggage. Something to do with the weekend painting on the coast, something to do with painting at home on a weekend afternoon – something to do with making things work in a meaningful way in spite of less than ideal circumstances.

… Maybe I just needed more restful sleep to process things? I’ve definitely gotten that over the past week! 😆

I sit watching the moon pass behind the clouds, then peek out at me again. I fill up on inspiration as I sit watching, breathing, and waiting to begin again. It’s not yet time for that. I meditate and reflect awhile. I watch the moon shining down so very brightly. “Can I capture that luminous glow in pastels?” I wonder.

“Foggy Autumn Morning”, 5″ x 7″ pastels on pastelbord, 2026

I’ve been painting foggy mornings. Maybe I will paint moonlight, next, after I figure out fog?

“Strangers in the Fog”, 9.5″ x 12.5″ pastels on pastel card, 2026

The moon disappears from view. The dense clouds remind me why I reliably bring my headlamp along. My rain poncho is another welcome addition this morning, as raindrops begin to reach me, sprinkling my glasses with tiny droplets. I sigh as I get to my feet. Apparently, it’s time to begin, again.

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Categories Allegories, art and the artist, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, joy, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, The Art of Being

Different Moment, Different Day

October 25, 2026 //
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I woke later than usual. No alarm. Sunday. I woke feeling genuinely better for the first time in many days. I got up, dressed, and slipped out of the house quietly.

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

It’s been awhile since my Traveling Partner had a chance to sleep and wake without my (sometimes uncomfortable) presence first thing. I also prefer to wake alone and get myself together before I have to deal with people. Yes, even my beloved. I hope he sleeps in, and enjoys waking slowly.

I’m probably not yet up to a long walk, so I make a shopping list and head up the highway to a favored grocer to pick up a few things. I grab coffee on the way. I take my time with things. This is that delicate time between being ill and being entirely well where a morning of exertion could easily result in a relapse and days more being sick. I am taking my time. There’s no reason to rush.

Autumn is all around. I enjoy seeing the fall colors everywhere. I’m eager to take my recollections into the studio with me and paint thoughts of autumn, seasons, and change. A steady rain has been falling. My arthritis pain is well-managed and not vexing me. Good day to paint.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I finish my coffee and check my shopping list. It’s already time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, art and the artist, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, inspiration, joy, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being, The Big 5, Words
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