Archives for category: Brain Injury
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Rainy Days

March 11, 2026 //
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It’s a rainy morning. I reach the trailhead ahead of the sun and listen to the rain falling. I watch an interesting video, and wait for a break in the rain. I pull my rain poncho from my gear bin when I get my opportunity and set off down the trail in the darkness.

Even once I get to this convenient stopping point more or less midway, I’m still groggy. I’m struggling to really wake up. It’s my own fault, I guess. I woke around 03:00 having to pee, and went back to bed although my wake-up time was only a couple hours away. As I drifted back to sleep I remember thinking I was for sure at risk of achieving deep sleep but waking too soon. Getting up at that hour wouldn’t allow for a second sleep, and would have been much too early. I’d have risked resetting my sleep cycle. I sigh to myself. Groggy it is then, I guess.

I’m in more pain than I’ve been enduring most mornings lately. It’s annoying, but demonstrates how effective the new medication really is. I’m grateful for the medical science that produces effective medication and the agencies that oversee and assure quality and safety. I’m appalled by fuckwits attacking science, medicine, and safety standards. Fucking hell, fund the right stuff you giant jackasses. Healthcare instead of bombs, maybe? Also, get vaccinated, and only vote for knowledgeable ethical people to represent you in government. (And if your response is that there are no ethical politicians, I’ll point out that this may be the heart of the problem.)

I sigh to myself. I’m cranky with pain, waiting for my medication to kick in.

I sit with my thoughts awhile. There will be more rain. That’s the sort of place we live. Rainy, often. I’m okay with that. I like the rain. Anyway, it passes. Change is.

I’m slowly becoming chilly. It’s not especially cold, just chilly and damp. I regret not wearing an extra sweater or a base layer, but it’s fine. I get to my feet and get ready to begin again. I look down the trail as the rain begins to fall, and walk on.

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Practices, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, Words

The Sand in My Oyster

March 10, 2026 //
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How’s that for an image? It is a useful metaphor for some of life’s irritating experiences, though. A small detail (like a grain of sand) might be nothing in the greater cosmic whole, but for an oyster it’s an irritant so profound it may feel injurious. What to do? Well…an oyster transforms that small persistent irritation into something profoundly beautiful – a pearl.

I sit at my halfway point reflecting on that idea.

I’m enjoying my Traveling Partner greatly of late, even more so than usual. Feels like we’re “on to something”. I’m looking forward to the Anxious Adventurer moving on to his own next adventure, elsewhere. Just saying, he’s a generally well-intentioned guy with a good heart, but a poor fit for cohabitation (with us). He has a lot of self-work yet to do, and needs time and space to do it (if he embraces that work at all), and no one can do it for him. I get it. I also don’t choose to create a soft landing for him if he chooses not to grow and mature. As my Traveling Partner himself has said, “I want my life back”.

I remind myself to get his move out plan. I need to make plans myself, most especially if he’s going to need any help (at all). It’s time.

G’damn, I’m so glad my beloved Traveling Partner has made so much good use of his recovery time.

I watch the dawn lighten the sky. I think about sand and pearls. I think about beginnings. I think about how easily people waste their time and opportunities, minutes and hours trickling away on some app when they could be living their lives. That’s a choice.

… Choose wisely…

I sometimes find myself frustrated by “fellow travelers” unwilling to do the needful. There are verbs involved. There is no instant win. No shortcuts. Just verbs, practices, and moments. We are each having our own experience. Personally, I think I like pearls enough to do that work of transformation.

Where does this path lead?

I watch the dawn becoming day. Soon, I’ll begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, Spring, The Art of Being, The Big 5, Words

New Boots, Familiar Trail

March 7, 2026 //
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My new boots arrived yesterday. I eagerly put them on this morning. I wisely didn’t immediately chuck out my old ones; I don’t know how much break-in time the new pair may need. So far they are decently comfortable.

First steps feel like a new beginning – because they are.

I have on my favorite pair of thick alpaca hiking socks, and these boots feel like they have room for cushioned orthopedic insoles, too. Feels like a win. My gait though is altered just enough to feel different. The boots have a relatively tall sole, adding an inch to my height and changing where I “think my foot is” in space. I chuckle when I recall getting into the car… the first two attempts were just me awkwardly figuring out why, instead of easily sliding into the driver’s seat, I was getting hung up when I tried to put my foot into the car. 😆

… I’m a human primate; I figure shit out…

The morning feels like a lesson in avoiding making assumptions, and perhaps new boots are a useful metaphor. I get to my halfway point. Short walk. Familiar trail. I’m out of breath though, thanks to this fucking head cold. I sit down and cough and sneeze my way through an entire pack of travel tissues, grateful to have brought along two.

I smile to myself contentedly. I am enjoying the morning, and the weather is mild. No work today and I will return home to a human being who loves me dearly. The greatest wealth I’ve ever known is in this love I share with the singular human being who is my Traveling Partner on life’s journey. I breathe, exhale, and… have a coughing fit. I try again. (Damn, fuck this head cold though! 😆 I could definitely do without it. I remind myself that it will pass. Impermanence is more permanent, by far, than a head cold.) I add cough medicine to my shopping list, and sit quietly with my thoughts for awhile longer.

DST changes the clocks tomorrow. G’damn I fucking hate this bullshit. It’s so hard on my body. It changes the timing on all my medications and also makes us all look just a little stupid, as though we think moving the hands on the clock actually changes when the sun rises, or how many hours are in a day. 😂 Fucking idiotic.

I see hints that Spring is coming.

I shrug to myself, and let all that go. Spring is coming. I see it in a faint green haze beginning to show in the tops of distant oaks. Flowers are beginning to bloom along the trail, too. Lush green grasses and weedy plants fill the spaces between the vineyard rows. I love Spring. Funny, I often say that autumn is my favorite season, but I’m not certain that’s true, as I sit here inhaling the scents of Spring. I definitely know what I like. I like the solitary morning moments, and the time on the trail. I like returning home, knowing love waits for me there.

I’m grateful for the paved and level path while I break in new boots. (It’s a metaphor.)

I like beginning again. It’s my path, and it’s Spring. I’m okay with not knowing where this path leads. 😄

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, Words

One Foot After The Other

March 3, 2026 //
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“Keep walking,” I tell myself silently. Over and over, step after step down the trail to my halfway point. This morning I got an early start, and I get to my halfway point just at daybreak. That’s fine. I just wish those persistent steps had carried me past this shitty mood.

Here. Now.

I sigh irritably and let it go. I didn’t get here by myself, but that’s the way of human primates; we are social creatures, and easily pick up feelings from each other. It’s not personal, it’s how we’re wired. I try again to let it go. I’m cross with myself, with my Traveling Partner, and with the fucking world. “Do better, Assholes”, I mutter to myself feeling seriously cranky.

Another sigh. I’m grateful to have remembered to shove a pack of tissues into my pocket. The tears vex me, and now my nose is running. I feel like a ticking time bomb, which seems like an unreasonable overreaction, honestly. Sitting here alone I can more easily evaluate that, and maybe gain perspective and soothe myself.

Could my seriously shitty mood be a byproduct of changes to my medication? My doctor prescribed something different to help manage my neuropathic pain, things like my headache, my occipital neuralgia, and other pain that is linked to my spinal injury. It has definitely helped with that – it even seems to have “turned down the volume” on my tinnitus, which was unexpected… but this new medication also reduces the need for other prescription pain relief, and reducing the amount of that comes with known difficulties – “the down” is rough. Is my shitty mood coming from (or aggravated by) withdrawal symptoms? It could be. Useful perspective.

I find perspective and reframing very calming. It’s a useful practice.

The Anxious Adventurer is supposed to be doing something or other for his days off, to give my Traveling Partner and I some time alone to enjoy each other. He came down with a cold, but doesn’t say anything about whether that has affected his planning. It’s honestly one of the most vexing characteristics of cohabitation with him; he’s not at all “open”, not out of meanness or any sort of reserved nature, it’s more that he seems to lack basic communication skills and has little will to improve. I still have no idea when or if he’s going somewhere, nor where that might be. He seems clueless why such things matter. (I like to plan, that’s part of the fun for me, and I discuss my plans freely, even seeking other perspectives and suggestions when I am planning something. I know that isn’t everyone’s thing, but fucking hell say something enough in advance for people around you to also plan!)

….Comfortable cohabitation generally needs shared values. Without that, someone is generally not comfortable…

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I meditate as dawn becomes day. A new day, another sunrise, a new beginning… I rely on being able to begin again.

A different “now”, a new perspective.

… Fucking hell, it’s a work day, too… I can’t say I feel like it, I definitely don’t. At all. I inhale the cool morning air. It smells like Spring. It feels warmer than I expect for early March. Fog begins accumulating, oozing up from the creek bed on the other side of the trees. It’s 7C (45F) and feels comfortably mild. There are early Spring flowers blooming: crocuses, daffodils, hyacinths. The air is sweet with the fragrance. I focus on that.

… And I’ve definitely picked up another head cold…

Fucking hell being human is complicated and annoying sometimes. No wonder we do such a shit job of simple communication or managing our emotions with care, or being considerate of others. It’s hard sometimes. It takes practice, and we mostly don’t bother to teach this shit.

We become what we practice.

The clock is always ticking. I get to my feet, reluctant to deal with the world, but recognizing the necessity. It’s time to begin, again.

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

War and News of War

March 1, 2026 //
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I’m sitting at the halfway point on this trail I’m walking. It is familiar and safe. The news feels distinctly less safe, so I refrain from looking at it. I know what war looks like, and I don’t need to ingest repetitive AI slop and propaganda retelling the approved narrative. I’ll sit here bird-watching instead. Nice morning for it.

Birds know better.

…Oh, make no mistake, I’d definitely like to see the people of Iran free to govern themselves under a system of government they have chosen for themselves. I earnestly hope our corrupt government’s almost certainly self-serving violence has the effect of also improving the lives of Iranian citizens. Any who survive it, I mean. I admit, I am curious how it seemed necessary to intervene with airstrikes and bombs in Iran, but not Ukraine, Palestine, Rwanda… You get where I’m going with this? We aren’t going to be told truthfully why we are intervening now, in Iran, but not the many other times a nation’s citizens have pleaded for our assistance. I am as certain as I can be that it is about power, and money, and oil. Gross.

Look for the beauty in the moment.

I sigh to myself and pull my attention back to the many birds on the marsh and in the oaks dotting the meadow here. Portions of this nature park were once farm or homestead land. The signs of that expose themselves each Spring as flowers begin to bloom. Varieties that don’t grow wild here grow here and there in little pockets, places once planted and cared for by people who are now gone. The flowers remain. Crocuses and daffodils, for now, and I think I spotted paperwhites back up the trail a ways. I am reminded of the battlefield memorial places I have visited. Revolutionary war. Civil war. Mexican-American War. World War I and World War II… I feel both privileged and saddened to have seen so many… You’d think a sentient relatively well developed species could do better… You’d be wrong. At least, you’d be wrong to think homo sapiens would do better. Are you kidding? We can’t even see past campaign lies and political rhetoric to vote wisely for our leaders.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. Fuck war. Do better, people. Our survival depends on it

I sit watching the little birds and wondering whether our perception of “intelligence” in living creatures is waaay off, and perhaps we’re just the dumbest fucking things around… too stupid to enjoy our lives and each other, or to appreciate this beautiful planet we live on. Honestly, that does seem pretty stupid, from the perspective of this moment, sitting on a fence rail between marsh and meadow, enjoying the sunshine and the company of little birds. I smile, grateful for this moment, and this place.

I swing my feet and am reminded that my boots are worn out. I found new ones I like during my shopping yesterday, but the local retailers were selling them for more than twice the manufacturer’s price – for a model from 2023! A quick check of their website resulted in a purchase… and some wait time for them to arrive. I have learned the value of waiting.

It’s been a good weekend for self-care, and a recommendation by my Traveling Partner with regard to my pain management seems to have resulted in notable improvement. I feel pretty good. I’ve a few more things I can (maybe should) do for myself this weekend. I’m reaching the point of awkwardness, when I begin to question whether “this is too much”, but that’s just bullshit and baggage. I can let that go.

I sigh happily, feeling the sun warm on my back, and grateful that no bombs are dropping here. I see fellow travelers approaching on the trail. I hop down from the fence rail, feeling merry and light on my feet. It’s a good opportunity to begin again.

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Categories 2024 Election, anger, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, joy, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, War and News of War, winter, Words
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