There was a misty rain falling when I got to the trailhead before daybreak. I don’t mind that. It had rained rather heavily at several points during the night, too, and I didn’t mind that either. My sleep was restless and unsatisfying, and I didn’t get enough of it. The household seemed noisy until almost midnight. I struggled to return to sleep each time I woke. I feel fine this morning. Eager to get a walk in along the damp marsh-side trail. It’s a short drive to the office from this nature park, and that’s where I’ll be working today. In general, the day is off to a good start, though seeing it through that lens is largely a matter of practice over time. (It wasn’t all that long ago that a restless night followed by a drizzly morning would likely have found me exceedingly irritated with life and wholly unpleasant to be around.)
…I keep practicing…
A rainy dawn, a new day.
Daybreak comes and I swap my shoes for boots, and grab my cane. I finish off my iced coffee and double check that I have my water bottle ready. I breathe the rain-fresh air and sigh contentedly, stretching before I head down the trail.
Practices come in all sizes. Changing the things I practice in life has done a lot to change my quality of life, my thinking, and my perspective. I’m more resilient. I am calmer. I bounce back from stress more easily and more quickly. I still have challenges. I still have to deal with my own bullshit and baggage. I’m very human. Trauma has changed me over the course of a lifetime and there’s no knowing who I might have been without it. There’s no “going back” – but it hardly matters when I remember that all my choices are ahead of me when I am present in this moment, awake, aware, and ready to begin again any time I fail myself or fall short of living my values. Failures are part of life.
I smile at the cloudy gray sky thinking about how best to capture those hues in pastel. This is a worthy moment to be here, now, and I embrace it. I breathe, exhale, relax, and begin again.
Well, damn. That’s more than a little embarrassing…
Yesterday was quite a lovely day. I mean, it was definitely tending to be so, and I was relaxed and enjoying the day. Work was busy, complicated, and still quite fun. The day ended well, and I just had one errand to run to finish the week and call it the weekend. Easy. Routine.
… Right?.. Right?!..
It’s pretty easy to forget, when things are going well, that I do legitimately have some… “issues”. I start feeling as if I’m “past all that”. Feeling like my chaos is neatly tidied up, the damage repaired. “Nothing to see here.” It’s a pleasantly comfortable feeling, complacency, isn’t it? Which makes it all suck so much worse when shit goes sideways in some horrifically catastrophic feeling way that scatters shards of lingering trauma, broken bits of emotional baggage, and the wreckage of good intentions everywhere. It’s pretty horrible. The emotional damage done to loved ones dealing with it is embarrassing, inexcusable, and inflicts further trauma. It’s hard to make an adequate apology, making amends is even more difficult, and the fucking embarrassment, g’damn. The shame is a heavy burden to bear, and it can be complicated to prevent that from flaring up later as still more emotional bullshit. Fuuuuuuck.
So human.
Yesterday? Yesterday went sideways over a fucking product return. Yep. That was enough to push me entirely over the edge in actual seconds, and I may never truly understand why, let alone ever be able to explain it. It was bad. I lost my temper, my grip on reality, my ability to manage my emotions or even communicate clearly at all. My Traveling Partner was trying to help, but was immediately triggered, himself by my batshit-crazy bullshit, and wholly disadvantaged by also being medicated in a way that limited his ability to manage his own emotions or to support mine. It was (emotionally) messy. Ugly. Unpleasant. And it was over a fucking package. Over a moment of confusion and doubt regarding whether I understood which specific package it was and what return code belonged to it. Fucking stupid shit. Un-fucking-believable and a completely inexcusable overreaction to the circumstances.
No, apologies aren’t always adequate, which sucks. I still apologize. I’m still sincerely contrite and regretful. The damage is done and it may take time to rebuild a sense of emotional safety and trust. The whole messy business amounts to a powerful reminder regarding complacency. A reminder that mental illness is a real thing and the practices I practice to keep my shit together and foster mental and emotional wellness are not “a cure”. I still very much have to remain alert and self-aware.
…Well, shit…
I feel bad for the Anxious Adventurer. I wanted to set clearer expectations about my mental health and what challenges living in my home could present. My Traveling Partner shut that down, at the time. (I never asked why and don’t know.) What a shitty experience all around.
Here’s the thing though…
Waiting for the sun.
… Today is a new day. I can (and will) begin again. Yes, flare ups of mental illness suck. They’re scary and embarrassing. It’s horrible to understand how I have hurt those dear to me (and it doesn’t lessen the pain or the damage done that I’m talking about emotional violence not physical violence). I’ve still got to acknowledge the circumstances honestly. Reflect on things with calm self-awareness after the fact. Restore lost order. Make apologies and amends – and also move on and let it go.
Begin again.
It’s a new day. New challenges. New opportunities. A fresh set of moments, choices, and experiences. The day begins well, as I sit at the trailhead waiting for the sun. I started a new medication yesterday, intended to ease my occipital neuralgia and possibly reduce the pain of my cervicogenic headache. Will it be effective? Don’t know yet, but so far I am tolerating well, and it seems to have a pleasantly calming effect without knocking me out. In spite of numerous interruptions to my sleep last night, I slept well and deeply. The day begins well.
…I wonder where this path leads..?
Daybreak brings a new beginning.
Scattered plump raindrops greet me as I step onto the trail. I grab my rain poncho “just in case”. The trail stretches ahead, familiar, but also unknown; each new day is different.
I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s time to get to it. We’ve each got to walk our own mile. The trail isn’t always smooth, but the choices (and consequences) are my own. When I stumble, I know I can begin again.
Moods can be contagious, good or bad (though it often seems the bad moods spread farther, faster, and result in a deeper change). The words and actions we choose also create ripples through the world around us, affecting other people and events, sometimes in unanticipated ways. Think about that for a moment. How we each behave, what we say, and how we say it, creates this world we live in.
All this? This is “your fault”. Yes, it’s my fault, too. Among us, as a group, we share the blame for the bullshit fucked-up mess that is this modern world, with all its pain and sorrow and inequity and violence and misogyny and terror. Humankind. We did this. We created it. We continue to benefit from it and to maintain it. Gross. Do better, people, please – before there’s nothing at all left that is worth saving.
What are you personally doing to make the world a better place today? Are you practicing kindness? Are you gentle with your words (yes, even when you are angry, frustrated, or hurt)? Are you practicing good self-care and consideration of others? Are you doing your best? Are you making a point to use whatever privilege you may personally enjoy to lift others up? Do you take steps to recognize and acknowledge injustice and seek to right those wrongs? Do you at least care enough to do what you can in the world to ease suffering by not fucking adding to the suffering in the world?
Are you looking for opportunities to do just a little more, just a bit better than you did yesterday?
I have serious doubts that any one human being regardless of apparent influence and “reach” can truly heal this fucked up messy violent world we live in… but g’damn, people, I am pretty fucking certain every individual one of us could do just a little bit more and better than we do right now. Think for a moment what a profound change it would make in the world if we each, as an example, simply stopped being petty and spiteful. Ever. At all. How much better would the every day experience of humanity as a whole become? What about anger? If 100% of every one of us learned to manage and express our anger more gently, and using only gentle words, how much more pleasant would the world be?
… And don’t even get me started about greed…
Every act of violence is an act of will. Every harsh word is preceded by a choice to say it. Every moment of pettiness, spite, and meanness is a moment that could have been handled quite differently. We have choices. Choose wisely. Be your best self because it actually matters to you – and to the world.
Maybe it’s not enough to do our best in these ways, but damn it sure beats doing nothing at all, doesn’t it? It’s free, it’s within our control, and each small effort to be kind, and compassionate, and considerate has the power to truly change the world in some small way as it ripples across the consciousness of humanity.
Choose your words and actions with care – because it does actually matter.
You have the power to make the world a better place. Will you though?
We become what we practice. Prove me wrong. When I practice being calm, I become a calmer person. When I practice listening I become a better listener. When I practice kindness, I become more inclined to be kind, generally.
…If I practice being angry, I become more easily angered, more often, and more likely to react with anger to circumstances and people that may not warrant such a reaction at all…
When I practice perspective and consideration, my perspective on life deepens, and I become more considerate.
The next conversation you have with someone may determine whether you continue to have the relationship you do. Good or bad. More connected or more distant. The words you choose and the emotions you embody become reality. A real experience being experienced. A memory being made.
Who are you? Who is that other person to you? If you live as the person you most want to be, how will you behave? What are you choosing to practice?
The way ahead is not always clear. It’s still your path, and you choose your direction and your steps.
You have choices. Choose wisely.
I reached the trailhead before daybreak, park gate still closed. I’m okay with that. I find the quiet solitary time necessary to my well-being and sometimes hard to snatch from a busy day. I enjoy every quiet moment that I happen upon. I sit awhile and reflect before I ever reach for my device, listening to the sound of traffic on the highway, and the ringing in my ears that never ceases and rarely diminishes.
A morning well-suited to solitary reflection.
The gate opens with a sort of screeching creaking sound. This morning my plan is to walk the entire loop trail around the marsh, (3 miles), then cut over to the river trail, and walk that out and back (1 mile each way) for a 5 mile walk. Goals. I change into my boots, remembering to grab my water bottle, my cane, my lightweight collapsible 3-legged camp stool, and a beautiful tangerine for later. The sky begins to lighten, and the fog begins to lift. Nice day for a walk with my thoughts.
I stand ready at the beginning of the marsh trail, listening for a moment, before I begin. I breathe the meadow-sweet air at the edge of the marsh. I feel vaguely sleepy under the cloudy gray sky. I sigh to myself as I step forward; no beautiful sunrise this morning and it looks like rain. As an afterthought, I grab my lightweight rain poncho and stuff it in my back pocket, “just in case”, and head down the trail.
Weed or wildflower? It’s largely a matter of context and perspective.
Sometime later, I stop at my decision-making point, where the marsh trail and river trail intersect. Walk on? Three miles or five? I unfold my little camp stool and take a seat to rest a moment. The air is cool and fresh and scented with something that seems at once both floral and spicy. I breathe, exhale, and relax. This moment is mine to enjoy however I wish. I choose gratitude, contentment, and joy, sitting here with my solitary thoughts.
…It really doesn’t have to be more complicated. Choose. Practice. We become what we practice…
I can’t tell you how to live your life. I’m just pointing out that you have (and make) choices. If your emotional experience of life is characterized by anger, frustration, and disappointment, which definitely sucks, you have the opportunity every day to choose (and practice) something very different. Life isn’t something inflicted upon you; you are living your experience. You choose your words, your actions, and to a large degree even your thoughts. If you don’t enjoy life as you live it now, choose to live it differently. The choices (and consequences of those choices) are yours.
… Sometimes growth and progress are uncomfortable. Sometimes we have to work harder, and go farther. Sometimes we have to chuck out what hasn’t worked and begin all over again. I look down the trail ahead of me. Five miles. I choose to walk on, and go further. I collapse my folding stool and sling it over my shoulder. It’s time to begin again.
I write a lot. It isn’t explicitly and specifically about you. …Or…well…maybe it is? I mean in the most general sense that sooner or later generalities land with us. Some particular thing or another, sooner or later, is going to strike you in a potentially eye-opening or insightful way. The odds are in favor of it. It’s literally how things like the cold readings of a side-show huckster or small town psychic down the road sound so convincingly knowing. Tarot cards. Fortune tellers. Salespeople.
I’ve got a friend who recently remarked how “spooky” it is that I so often seem to be writing about exactly what she’s going through, even though we don’t often hang out these days, and no longer work together. I pointed out that I write – often – in generalities and aphorisms that spring from a shared common human experience. Unconvinced, she pointed out that it’s “all the time, though”. (It isn’t.) When I laughed and reminded her how often she remarks quite conversely that she didn’t get my point at all, she shrugged it off and let the whole thing drop. I’m no mind reader. Most of the time my writing is relatively trivial; casual generalities and interesting (to me) turns of phrase that help me along my own journey. I’m glad there are a few folks (like you) who take time to read what I’ve written. It gives my writing a lot more meaning that it is being read. (Thank you.)
…But. No, I didn’t write that because you… I mean, not you personally, is all. 🙂 People. Maybe you? Maybe that person over there? Maybe it was just an idea I had that sounded like something you’ve experienced for real, recently? Maybe someone you heard about through a friend of a friend? Maybe it was in a news article (that I also read) or a movie (that I also saw)? Just saying – it’s not you. More likely it’s me. I mean… I can at least try to make a useful or necessary change in my own behavior or in my own life. I can’t do that for you.
It’s very much not “personal”.
…Which is true of most things, actually, and that is probably worth thinking about further.
I tend to take observations and new learning to a bit of a meta place when I think things over, and even when I listen to song lyrics. It is the thing that makes some casual observation become a useful living metaphor (for me), or that allows me to apply some abstract idea to my own circumstances. Because I write in the same way I think, I’ve then opened the door just a bit wider that you might find some handful of words I’ve strung together to either be quite… pointed… or enlightening and useful. I’m not all that wise, actually – just another human primate doing my best to tidy up my chaos and damage and build a good life on the wreckage that came before. You, too? No wonder some of this “rings true”, eh?
Humans being human, each having our own experience, and somehow also all in it together.
I sit with my thoughts on the afternoon of what has proven to be an unexpectedly difficult day between lovers both after the same experience; a shared experience of calm, healing, and contentment. How vexing that we don’t quite get there! So frustrating to feel this unsteady and uncertain and uncomfortable. Try. Try again. Listen. Hear. Begin again. Fuck it all up. Apologize. Listen more. Try to say, but… Listen more. Try again. Do the damned thing differently. Sweep away the eggshells. Begin again. Assume positive intent. Listen more carefully. Begin again, again. No lack of love nor lack of will to try on, and listen longer. Just humans being human and sometimes failing to be our best selves. It’s hard. Caregiving? Yeah, sure, caregiving is crazy hard and demanding on a whole different level, but just now I mean more generally that simply doing our best in the face of everything we’re dealing with. Hard. At least it is for me, today.
I’ll keep practicing. Keep trying. Keep listening and growing from my mistakes. I’ll keep beginning again.
