Who Were You Then?

October 16, 2026 //
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Lovely start to the day, today. Coffee with my beloved Traveling Partner before I headed to the trail to get a walk in before work.

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

I walked in the predawn darkness contentedly, on the edge of humming a little tune, but I can’t quite find the melody. I smile and keep walking. I’m okay for nearly all values of “okay”, and better than that for many more. In a word, in this moment I am content and happy. I walked along enjoying it without asking why. Doesn’t matter why.

I think about the woman I was in 1995. Why ’95? That was the year I walked away from a nightmare, and the year I lived alone for the first time, fully independently. It was a peculiar transformation and it took me awhile to catch up with myself. I spent that year beginning the search for the woman I wanted most to be. It’s taken a long g’damned time to get from there to here. By the time I reach my halfway point (on this walk), I’ve mentally drafted a letter I wish I could send back in time to that earlier version of me.

Continuity of memory is strange. It tends to suggest I am that woman I was then. I doubt that’s really true. She was reckless. Irresponsible. Angry (so very angry). She was prone to disrespecting boundaries. She had no clear sense of purpose, and her goal setting was shortsighted and exceedingly practical. Her path was not yet her own choosing. Shared memory connects me to her, but I am not that woman I once was. Probably a good thing, actually; she was headed for destruction.

Daybreak begins. The starry night sky gives way to shades of gray.

She could have done better, or been a better person. I guess so can I, even now. I sit with that for a little while. Later today, therapy, and a manicure. It is a Friday. I think about the weekend ahead. I think about beginnings and I think about love.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. A new beginning starts right here. A chance to be my best self, a better partner, a better friend. I like beginning again. Each day is a new experience, a new chance to choose and to do better… a new opportunity to love and to walk my path. It’s enough.

I breathe the autumn air deeply. It’s already time to walk on, and begin again.

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

Name That Emotion

October 15, 2026 //
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I woke with a certain feeling clinging to me as I pulled myself free of my dreams to face a new day.

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

I noticed the pain in my hands as I woke. Then the neuralgia in my face. I snarled silently at Thursday morning, thinking to myself “so it’s going to be like that, is it?”, as I dressed.

As I left the house, I stared at the starry sky with wonder. It still fills me with awe and delight. I recognize Orion overhead and smile; that was the first constellation I learned to recognize. The starry night sky inspires me.

I walk the familiar trail thinking about art, starry night skies, new moments, and inspiration. Nice morning for it. It’s dark but not cold. We haven’t yet had our first frost. That’s not strange here, only an observation. I pause on the trail at a spot with a particularly good view of the night sky, a little vexed by the pointlessly bright lights of the nearby construction site. I star gaze for a few minutes, rubbing my aching hands and enjoying the view before walking on.

I spent some time in the studio after work yesterday. I’m grateful that I could, and that I have dedicated space for creative work. That is an incredible luxury and I am fortunate.

“The Drain”, soft pastels, 2026

At my halfway point, I indulge myself with a long look at a picture of the piece I painted yesterday. It evokes something for me that I can’t quite name. I’m not entirely clear whether the art flows from the emotion…or creates it. At least, that is the case with this one. I felt pulled into the studio yesterday, as if drawn towards a painting not yet conceived, and walked out with a sense of something certain and final. Completed work, yes, and also as if I’d said something I didn’t have words for.

… What is that emotion called..?

I sigh and stuff my phone back into my pocket. I let my eyes readjust to the darkness. I rub my hands – more specifically my thumbs, where the newest arthritis has turned up. It seems likely that over time, perhaps quite slowly, it will become progressively more difficult to paint, as it becomes more difficult to hold pastels or brushes comfortably. I sit with the awareness awhile, not picking at it, not trying to wish it away or argue with it, simply aware, observing the sensation of pain and feeling the poignant hint of sorrow and maybe future disappointment.  No reason to drag all that into this moment from a future that hasn’t yet occurred. I breathe, exhale, and relax, and let the moment pass.

I meditate under the stars. The morning here is peaceful. For the moment, that is enough.

I catch myself squirming and twisting slowly, trying to find physical comfort. Yes, the arthritis is sometimes an absolute motherfucker to deal with, but…it could be worse. So much worse. I stretch and adjust my seated position and my posture. I silently acknowledge to myself that it’s the best I can do for the moment, and take my morning medication. That will help, too.

I write a bit, and watch the sky slowly begin to lighten. I love seeing the various gradual changes as night becomes day. Another sigh. I get to my feet. May as well begin again.

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

Step Away From The Feed

October 14, 2026 //
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I get to the halfway point on my walk and take a seat on the bench that happens to be here. I breathe the autumn morning air deeply, filling my lungs then exhaling slowly. It’s a pleasantly mild morning. My breath is not visible.

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

This morning feels pretty good so far, although I’ve been slow to get going. I was awakened from a deep sound sleep and dreams that seemed snatched from another, other, life. Very real. Strangely practical. This morning feels better in spite of chronic pain, and in spite of my tinnitus. It feels better for what is missing more than what is going on in this moment; no feeds, none at all. I haven’t even looked at my calendar. It is telling how much difference it makes.

… I’m not telling you what to do, I am sharing what is working for me…

Scrolling feeds in the morning definitely fucks up my headspace, reducing my resilience and filtering my experience of “now” through all kinds of negativity and drama, and general bad news. It’s not actually good for “keeping me informed”, and hasn’t proven necessary at all. Any FOMO that develops reliably turns out to be as dumb as that acronym. People can and do live beautifully rich lives without doom scrolling through AI slop and advertisements.

I smile in the darkness, feeling light. There’s nothing newsworthy at all going on right here, right now… and that’s fine. It is a quiet, relatively dull moment. Life is full of such moments. Enjoy them! I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s a nice spot to meditate and to reflect. I also don’t need feeds for that.

I see hints of daybreak in the lighter shade of the night sky. Cloudy. I wonder whether it might rain? I sigh to myself. I’d like to get my GMRS mobile radio installed in my car, weather permitting. I meant to yesterday and wonder where the time went? I remind myself again that I have an appointment this afternoon. I wonder what the traffic will be like? Oh sure, I could answer all those questions and more by opening one app or another on my device, but g’damn I am enjoying these “answer free” moments greatly, and really don’t care about the answers to any of those questions. It’s fine to wonder.

I sigh contentedly. I meditate. I reflect under the cloudy starless sky. It’s enough. I can begin again later – and I still won’t need a feed for that.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, The Art of Being, War and News of War, women, Words

Strategic Distraction

October 13, 2026 //
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This morning I am reflecting on beauty. Thoughts and recollections of beautiful sights are one useful strategy to manage pain; if my mind is focused on beautiful recollections, it is not preoccupied with the experience of pain in that moment. Simple, right?

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

Like a lot of simple ideas, it is more complicated than it sounds and requires steady practice to be really effective – but today my thumbs don’t hurt. I have been feeling deeply inspired lately, and it makes thoughts of beauty easier to focus on. I can explore inspiration in real depth, for a long while, and the pain seems to recede, no longer dominating my awareness. When my thumbs, specifically, are also hurting it becomes difficult to think about beauty and art, because the thoughts themselves redirect my attention back to my pain.

… Not this morning…

This morning I walk down the path more or less comfortably (less, much less), and the morning is slightly warmer. I’m dressed for it, that helps. Knee pain on the right, and a painful little hangnail on my left foot that I only noticed after I stepped out of the car to begin my walk. Arthritis pain up and down my spine. Nerve pain down my left hip. Rough morning for pain and pain management, so… I distract myself from it with thoughts of beauty, and paintings not yet painted. It works, mostly. My results vary.

Fall colors

Autumn colors excite me, and I enjoy the scent of autumn on the chilly breeze: fallen leaves, damp earth, and somewhere a warm hearth and the hint of a crackling fire last night. I am eager to be in my studio again, painting scenes of autumn. As I walk I think about recent sights. Beautiful sunrises. The glimmer of the setting sun across the ripples and slow currents of Siletz Bay. The vineyards becoming neat rows of yellow under cloudy skies. The oranges, rusts, and reds of deciduous trees mingling with the deep dark greens of various evergreens and pines. It is an outstanding season for painting.

I get to my halfway point and stop awhile. No starry sky this morning. Cloudy. Chilly. A quiet reminder of how vulnerable we are, as human beings. We have no fur, no claws, no savage fangs, no poison. We are fleshy and naked to the elements, and only our intelligence and adaptability keep us at or near the top of the food chain. I’m glad dressed warmly. I think awhile about humanity inventing clothing, and continuing to improve it over time. I shiver a bit in the cold in spite of my warm fleece over a warm fleece lined Henley.

I breathe the chilly autumn air and exhale it as a visible breath. I let my body relax. I repeat the simple practice for several minutes. I’m feeling pretty good, now, although chilly. Oh, look, it’s not meditation carrying the weight on this, as good as that sounds. I also remembered to take my meds on time and the Rx pain relief picks up where meditation leaves off. Sometimes ya gotta do both.

I gather my thoughts and get to my feet. I note happily that I’ve managed to stay focused on my own thoughts without giving any thought to work at all. That feels like an achievement, but acknowledging it feels like I just lost the game. 😂 I stretch and feel tension leave my body. It’s a good beginning. I wonder where today will take me?

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

Tips From a Friend

October 12, 2026 //
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Here it is Monday, again. I’ll admit, my enthusiasm is seriously limited by the pain I’m in. It is what it is, I guess.

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

I re-read the article my Traveling Partner shared with me, yesterday and think about it as I walk. It’s a cold morning, but not freezing. Today I remembered to dress warmly. I walk down the trail in the darkness, thinking my thoughts.

The article my beloved shared with me includes some excellent tips for clear communication, practices that (when practiced) really work:

    Active Listening: Practice active listening by putting your own opinions aside and genuinely trying to understand the other person’s perspective. Reflecting back on their thoughts and feelings can help establish a sense of empathy and build rapport.

    Empathy and Validation: Recognize and validate the emotions and concerns expressed by the other person. Acknowledging their experiences, even if you disagree with their viewpoints, can create a more receptive atmosphere for any discussion.

    Calm and Respectful Tone: Maintaining a calm and respectful tone and avoiding personal attacks or derogatory language can make a huge difference. By keeping emotions in check, you can foster a more constructive dialogue and prevent further escalation.

    Find Common Ground: Look for shared values, objectives, or aspirations that might serve as a foundation for getting to a common ground. Highlighting areas of agreement can help bridge the gap between differing perspectives.

    Ask Open-Ended Questions: Encourage deeper reflection and exploration by asking about things that invite the other person to speak out their thoughts. This approach can promote self-reflection and potentially lead to a more nuanced understanding.

Good tips. Profoundly good, and like chess,  the basics are so basic one might miss how difficult it might be to master. It is necessary to do the verbs. Worth the work that goes into it. Barring some clinical condition that might get in the way, this is a fantastic starting point for close connected communication and conflict resolution. I walk thinking about change.

This morning my head aches. My arthritis is giving me grief, too, in that very specific way that I associate with cold mornings. It seems worst in my thumbs, and my neck, places where it is a more recent development. I walk briskly this morning in spite of pain. It’s too chilly to stroll.

I get to my halfway point fairly quickly and stop, write a few words, reflect on the challenges of the weekend (and the moments of joy), and meditate under the stars. What peculiar mortal lives these are, and so brief…

Untitled pastel, 2026

I think I’d like to spend more time in my studio this week. I have a lot on my mind, and some of it I just don’t have words for. I sigh to myself, rubbing my hands together briskly in the cold. It’s time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, grief, health, inspiration, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, The Art of Being, The Big 5, War and News of War, women, Words
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