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The Point of Practicing

March 30, 2026 //
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I’m sitting here on a cold Spring morning with my thoughts. I’m disinclined to walk. My head aches ferociously and my eyes feel gritty. Too little sleep.

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

My first thought on waking precisely “on time” when I had explicitly reset my alarm for just 30 minutes before my work day would start, was “What’s the point of even trying to get more sleep when I need it?” It hit my consciousness as a silent snarl. I was awake.

I dressed, dragged myself through washing my face and running a brush through my hair. I brushed my teeth glaring at the woman in the mirror. I left the house as quietly as I could, hoping not to disturb my Traveling Partner as I left.

Rough night. My sleep was interrupted. My Traveling Partner’s too. I did try to get back to sleep, and I guess I eventually did. Unfortunately my body slept while my mind stayed busy. I dreamt that I was awake, working, the entire time. It was not a dream of a pleasant work day. It was, instead, tedious and consuming, filled with distractions and imminent deadlines. I’m frankly glad to be awake, although less pleased that today is Monday and the work day is ahead of me.

… and fuck this headache…

All of this practicing, and mindfulness, CBT, and positivity bullshit isn’t anything to do with lovely easy sunny Spring days, though. All these practices, study, and work, are for the difficult moments, for the rough nights, and to more easily weather the emotional storms life inevitably throws my way. I’m human. Pain, sorrow, and struggle are just part of the package. How I deal with shit when it comes my way is when all that practice pays off – and it pays off big sometimes. This morning, for example. This is when tools built over years of patient practice deliver results. Headache and all; I’m mostly okay, just cranky and headache-y.

I sit parked at a local trailhead. I write and meditate, and let myself wake up as I restore some sense of honest perspective. I don’t worry about the walking, I give myself time to “sort myself out”. I make room in my heart for kindness and gratitude. I focus on this moment, here, now, and stay present. Daybreak comes, bringing new perspective. I embrace that and anchor myself to practical things I know to be true.

A new day, a new moment.

I sigh to myself. It’s a cold morning, but I’ll warm up as I walk. The fresh air will do me good, I suppose, and I know the exercise is good for me. I set aside my lack of enthusiasm and commit to the practice. I get out of the car with my cane, ready to begin again. Let’s find out where this path leads…

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, health, Love, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, The Big 5, women, Words

Resist! No Kings, No Fascism

March 29, 2026 //
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Wow! I am so proud of the people of this rural county, and the surrounding communities in the area. The turn out for various local No Kings protests was amazing. This is an area that mostly voted for Trump. It’s good to see them objecting to fascism, explicitly, as well as standing proud and defiant against foreign wars. Seeing them lining the main streets of the towns of Yamhill county was an impressive and moving sight. I didn’t take pictures; I don’t want to put people at risk of retaliation.

…It gives me hope…

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

My Traveling Partner came home from his trip to the city a little early, yesterday. I was happy to have him back, though I was enjoying my solitude. I enjoy his company. The evening was a pleasant one. Pizza and a movie, delightfully wholesome.

I slept in this morning (for some values of “sleeping in”, and woke to find my beloved relaxing at the dining table. Instead of rushing off to catch the sunrise, I stayed for coffee and we lingered over conversation until the Anxious Adventurer was also up for the day, getting ready for a work shift. Eventually I left, and drove up the highway to the trailhead at the nature park nearby, grateful to have enjoyed that time at home; moments are fleeting and unrepeatable.

…”Each time for the first time, each moment the only moment.” Be here, now. Ichi-go ichi-e.” Life is for living…

I chuckled to myself as I drove up the highway. The gray dawn had already come, and there was no colorful sunrise, only a smattering of raindrops. I’m glad I took time for coffee with my Traveling Partner. Time well spent.

This moment, too, is worth living.

The Spring greens of the meadow and marsh are almost luminous as I step down the trail. The forecast suggests temperatures are too chilly for planting, but the plants that are growing wild disagree. The forecasted frost for this morning never came to pass, and the morning is mild and a bit drizzly. I expect I’ll be in the garden later. The thought makes me smile as I walk.

I sigh contentedly, at my halfway point, and take a seat on a fence rail. For a moment, fascists and corrupt billionaires and politicians aren’t on my mind at all. I’m watching the marsh creatures beginning the day, and tasting the Spring on the breeze. Occasional raindrops tickle my face, but it’s not really raining. The oaks are waking, and the trees in the distance have taken on a green haze. It’s all quite beautiful. No bombs, no craters, no rubble; it’s pretty shameful that we make so much effort to destroy the peace and beauty of Spring in other lands. We’re not the “good guys” we claim to be, as a nation.

I sigh again, this time with a certain tired resignation. “Resist,” I remind myself. It really does matter. Speak truth to power. Do not yield to corruption or cruelty. Live the values that lead you on the path to becoming the person you most want to be. Choose wisely. Persist. We become what we practice. I smile thinking how often I repeat such lessons and aphorisms to myself. Each represents some step on this path, and some moment of recognition and learning.

I get to my feet and tackle a side trail with a short distance that is a bit steep. I have to work for this, it tests my fitness a little, but it tests my janky ankle rather a lot. It’s worth it. The view isn’t great, but the feeling of getting there is. Few people come this way. It’s a quiet spot for meditation and writing. It’s an opportunity for a new perspective, and a chance to begin again.

… The clock is ticking, and I’m wondering if we still have time to change the world…

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Categories 2024 Election, anger, Anxiety, breathe, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, The Big 5, War and News of War

Stress Management in Difficult Times

March 26, 2026 //
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Too much stress, too many of the days, and it’s too common as problems go, for too many people. What to do about it? I’m just one person, and I’m not a credentialed expert of any kind (there is help out there, I promise you), but I’m here, and I’m working on my own shit, and I care, generally, and I’m not selling something or harvesting your data. Just a person willing to share.

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

When I’m too stressed, too often, I reach into a metaphorical “bag of tricks” learned over years of managing stress, and years of therapy. I consider the source of my stress (often purely subjective internally manufactured stress) and choose my path.

  • Taking a proper break in a stressful moment, and really stepping away from it to focus on something else is often enough to reduce momentary stress.
  • Reframing the stressful circumstances, and giving myself better understanding of the complexities, and greater perspective is often helpful.
  • Checking my assumptions is very useful; it’s easy to be very wrong about what I think I know. Sometimes stressful circumstances are fueled solely by my own erroneous thinking.
  • Practicing non-attachment, refusing to be wounded by one outcome or another can let me get beyond the source of my stress to an understanding of circumstances that doesn’t cause me so much stress.
  • Meditation – practiced reliably and consistently – helps me build and maintain resilience. Even practiced unreliably, or only as a response to extreme stress, it still functions as a means of creating healthy emotional distance between me and my stress.
  • Evaluating the elements of my circumstances that are driving my stress and identifying (and letting go of) those elements wholly outside my control allows me to put my attention where it can do some good.
  • Saying “no”, setting clear boundaries and acknowledging my limits without guilt, shame, or discomfort (it takes practice) is incredibly useful. It’s too easy to overcommit and create a quagmire of stress over conflicting priorities and missed deadlines. “Can’t say no…” is either a self-imposed illusion, or the product of an abusive relationship (whether personal or professional is not relevant). “No” is a complete sentence, although it may be worthwhile to be more courteous, now and then, depending on the circumstances.
  • When the stress I feel has its roots in wanting more, different, better, or sooner, I find practicing sufficiency a useful tool. Resetting my expectations regarding what I really need vs what I think I want can be a source of real relief. Patience and gratitude help with that.
  • Facing anger with gratitude is almost a super power, and similarly, facing stress with recognition that “this too shall pass”, gives me cognitive freedom to look beyond my stress, through the lens of impermanence

I’m not a perfect person. I guess that is sort of the point. I keep practicing. The journey is the destination. Sometimes I have to begin again, sometimes beginning again is simply a joyful next moment arriving precisely on time. My results vary. I’ve built up a pretty useful toolkit for managing stress over the years, and these tools really work (when I really use them). It’s enough.

Yesterday was hard. The morning got off to a difficult start, but my Traveling Partner and I moved past the moment, and enjoyed a lovely day together. In the afternoon my mood was a little low; emotional storms use up a lot of energy and resilience, and can be quite fatiguing. I know that, though, and didn’t make it a thing. Instead I made healthy salads, my beloved got the crispy romaine and iceberg lettuce he enjoys, I got the dark leafy greens with the nutritional density I need to bounce back from a bad moment. We enjoyed them together.

It’s a stressful world. I hope you find something here to make it a little easier. (If I’ve overlooked a great way to manage stress, please share in the comments!)

I sit at the side of the trail I’m walking, writing and reflecting on life. It’s a cold morning. 1°C. I’m glad I wore a heavy sweater and a warm fleece over that. I watch daybreak become dawn. It will soon be time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, War and News of War, Words

333

March 23, 2026 //
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I sat for a few minutes at the trailhead before I set off down the trail. The available mileage read 333, and I thought wistfully of turning the car around, calling out from work and driving east to catch up to the sunrise. It’s early. The sun won’t rise for another two hours.

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

I take a few more minutes to calm myself, to avoid pounding down the trail more stomping than walking; that’s too hard on my feet, ankles, and knees. Pointlessly damaging. Once I am calm, I set off down the trail in the darkness.

I reflect on my experience as I walk, and get to my halfway point annoyed to discover my phone at 35% charged. Wtf? Did I not plug in the charging cable when I went to bed? It’s possible, but the possibility does nothing to charge my phone now. I sigh to myself and toggle on “extreme battery saving”.

This morning I was awakened abruptly by the bang of a cupboard or a door. I dislike being awakened by loud noises. It sets off my PTSD. I’m hyper vigilant as I sit here in the darkness, heart still pounding, tinnitus shrill in my ears, pain amplified by anxiety – all this in spite of well-practiced tools for managing my PTSD. It takes time.

I sit here taking the time I need.

Fucking hell. And on a Monday after a couple days away from work, too. It’ll be a busy Monday. Maybe a busy week. I remind myself that although I can’t reliably control the circumstances in which I find myself, I can control my reaction to them. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I meditate for awhile in the darkness.

I sit listening to the HVAC of a nearby building. This is no wilderness trail, just a pleasant space between human endeavors. Behind me, the acreage of the air museum and a water park, vineyards filling every bit of space in which grapes could be planted. Ahead of me, on the other side of a creek that winds its way to the Yamhill River, an apartment complex, invisible but for a few lit windows and some balcony lights. Later, after daybreak, the farmworkers will begin to arrive, and the construction workers building a luxury hotel none of the locals actually want will begin their work. I sit with my irritation; it has nothing to do with these details, although it is tempting to connect them with my experience.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I let that shit go.

I dislike drama. I dislike displays of temper. I dislike unexpected loud noises. It’s a human life; there’s likely to be some drama, some temper on display, and some loud noises. Hell, sometimes I may be the cause. I sigh to myself in the darkness. My anger over being awakened by shit that isn’t even to do with me at all doesn’t help anything. I let it go. G’damn, I’ll be glad to see the Anxious Adventurer move out. The friction between him and my Traveling Partner is unpleasant to live with.

… They are each having their own experience, and in either case, it isn’t about me…

It’s just two more weeks.

My head aches. I take my medication a little early. I hope it helps.

I sigh again in the darkness, and pull my attention back to me, here, now, in this moment. I’m eager to be painting again. The background tension in the household has made that difficult. I sit reflecting on several views, images, and ideas I have in mind to paint. Being in less physical pain day-to-day has increased my feelings of being inspired. I love this feeling. I focus on the feeling of being inspired and “anchor myself” to that feeling, instead of clinging to my irritation. It’s a good choice, and I feel lifted from my anger.

Soon the sun will come. I’ll finish this walk and return home to work – and to make a good cup of coffee, and begin again.

For now, I’ll enjoy this quiet moment, listening to the HVAC in the distance and the creek nearby, and think thoughts of paintings yet to be painted, and moments of joy yet to come. I’ll open my heart to gratitude, and enjoy fond recollections of the time I’ve been spending with my Traveling Partner, which has been exceptionally pleasant lately, and romantic and connected. Time and moments worth savoring, for sure. I glance at the battery indicator on my phone. 31% now. I shrug, look over my writing and prepare to hit “publish” on this very human experience, before I begin again.

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

But What Will You Do About That?

March 22, 2026 //
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I’ve started including a disclaimer on new posts asserting my refusal to use available LLM tools for writing. I’m annoyed to feel that doing so is necessary, but here we are. I like writing. Why would I cheat to be faster or more frequent, or worse – to camouflage a lack of anything to say? Ridiculous. No thank you. Keep those crappy LLM “tools” away from me. I’ll just write, thanks. 😆

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

In all seriousness, adding that disclaimer is at least a real action I can take to express my objection to having bullshit “AI” garbage forced on me everywhere. I don’t like it. I don’t use it. I’d prefer to keep my own mind sharp, and also to take the time to learn new things myself.

Getting an early start on a new day.

Brunch with a friend, later, on the other side of this trail.  I’m eager to enjoy brunch, but I’m in no great hurry, so I wait for the sun.

After a short wait dawn illuminates the trail and I set off, hands jammed into warm pockets.

Chilly morning. Cold. At just 2°C, it’s a colder morning than we’ve had in several weeks. I’m glad I didn’t rush to plant delicate vegetables more suited to milder weather. That has often been a temptation for me and in many years past, I’ve chosen poorly. This year I focused on the laborious work of cleaning up the garden beds, weeding, and pruning. I am impressed by my own good decision making and self-restraint, recalling years past and frozen seedlings that failed to thrive. I inhale the cold air of early Spring on the marsh. The surface of the marsh ponds are silvery, reflecting the sky as the sun rises. Nice morning, if a bit cold. I’m grateful for the warm sweater I chose this morning.

Choices matter. Actions matter more.

A flock of geese takes flight from the marsh pond behind me. I’m seated on a fence rail betwixt the pond and the trail. The flock rises almost as one and I wonder how they all knew to do so just then? They pass overhead and I pull the hood of my fleece hoodie over my head “just in case”. I consider myself fortunate; no bird poop spatters me. I sit with my gratitude. Sometimes small things leave a big impression; I was once hit by falling bird poop, and getting it out of my hair seriously grossed me out. It may never occur again. I sit considering the numbers of birds, and people, and how often a bird passes overhead, and how rarely someone is actually hit by falling bird poop. It’s not really a high risk.

Go outside anyway. Walk a trail. Smell the flowers. See a sunrise. Trying to avoid all of the obstacles and potential misadventures on life’s journey only results in a life never really lived.

Choose. Do the thing. Experience the moment. Fail, learn, and grow. Walk a path you know you have chosen for yourself. Don’t rely overmuch on your “heroes” to lead the way. They too are mortal creatures with very human failings. Topple them from their pedestals and examine the truth of who they are (or were) as people and maybe do better. It may be easier than you think.

The sunrise is pearly pink and delicate orange, this morning. The meadow grass is tipped with frost. My breath turns to mist each time I exhale. I sit with the moment, enjoying the quiet, feeling myself relax. Looking towards the far side of the marsh and meadow, I see a green haze in the treetops. Definitely Spring.

I sit awhile longer, thinking about this or that vexing circumstance. Each time a grievance or complaint rises in my consciousness demanding my attention, I look it over and ask myself two questions,

  1. Does this really matter enough to give it attention and energy at all?
  2. If the answer (for me) is “yes”, then what will I do about that?

If human primates put as much energy into solving their problems (or changing their circumstances) as they do just bitching about them, we’d likely have a very different world. I don’t know what that world would be like, but I do like thinking about it.

I sigh to myself, filling my lungs with cold Spring air. The wheel keeps turning. The clock keeps ticking. What will you do when it is time to begin again? I think about the path ahead of me, and get to my feet.

Ask the questions. Do the verbs.
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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gardening, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, The Big 5, thoughts on AI, War and News of War, women, Words
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