Archives for category: forgiveness

I drove to the trailhead this morning thinking about Stoicism and (secular) Buddhism, and assorted other philosophies and schools of thought that seek to promote becoming “a good person” or living “a good life” through specific thinking and practices. My thinking is inspired, in part, by a video I watched last night on the topic of Stoicism and the problematic way it has been co-opted by “the manosphere” and silicon valley tech bros for profit and personal gain – not unlike the way secular Buddhism and mindfulness practices have been co-opted for profit and personal gain by a broad variety of influencers, brands, and e-commerce sites. It’s certainly disappointing when a powerful message, system of thought, or practice is distorted or diluted in this way for nothing more valuable than cash. Human greed is honestly pretty gross. (In my own opinion, one of humanity’s ugliest and most destructive traits.)

Beyond all that, which is certainly worth reflecting on, I find myself thinking of words I heard often as a kid, and rarely hear in discourse anymore; “it builds character”. I don’t think I actually understood, as a kid. I only knew it was something I was likely to hear from one elder or role model or another if I was heard complaining about some task or activity I didn’t want to be doing, but somehow found myself obligated to. “It builds character”, someone would say, sometimes dismissively. I don’t think I had any clue then what exactly “character” actually was, nor why I would want to build it.

…Thinking about it this morning, I don’t think it’s any surprise that so much of the prevailing civil and political discourse seems wholly lacking in ethics and “good character”. There doesn’t seem to be any particular emphasis on these things in our culture or society, presently. Consider, specifically, our politicians and pundits – how many of these would you say are truly people of “good character”?

What defines good character? This seems to me to be a very important question. I sit quietly reflecting on this question, and wondering why my elders would have expected me to become a person of good character through actions described as “building character”, if I had no idea what “good character” actually is. Did they have any idea themselves, or were they merely silencing the complaints of a child with words that had once been used to silence them? I think we both know the likely answer, eh?

… What will we do about it..?

The pre-dawn darkness lingers and I sit with my thoughts awhile longer. Worthy thoughts for a Sunday morning. I find myself considering re-reading Marcus Aurelius and Zeno, and also Thomas Aquinas, Augustine, and Ignatius of Loyola. Flawed human beings all, I don’t doubt, but aren’t we all? I’m just saying there is more to learn about what makes a good person, and very little of it is to be found on Instagram, Tik Tok, or an influencer’s merch site. Some of the answers we human beings seek, again and again, have already been found, if only we’ll shut up a minute, read a fucking book, listen to wiser voices, and actually put into practice that wisdom in an honest and humble way. None of this shit is easy. None of this shit is found in an expensive subscription or online course. Spending money on shortcuts doesn’t actually provide an actual shortcut; it remains necessary to do the fucking work. lol It builds character. 😉

A new day, and and chance to begin again, and to be the person you most want to be.

Yesterday I took time to paint. It was satisfying soul-nourishing time well-spent. I’m considering another afternoon of painting, between loads of laundry. I flipped through recent photographs in the evening for inspiration and found much to be inspired by. Perhaps I will find my way to making a couple hours of painting a regular practice each week? I like the idea of treating myself so well.

Inspired by a recent sunrise view at a favorite trailhead.

Daybreak comes. A new sunrise begins and with it a new day full of opportunities for reflection, practice, and… building character. I probably need a better understanding of what that really means to me, and how best to put it into practice. We become what we practice (good or bad). It makes sense to choose wisely.

It’s time to begin again. This path isn’t going to walk itself!

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.

It’s a new morning. A new day is beginning. There will be new opportunities ahead and new moments to enjoy. Yes, I’ve got this headache and my tinnitus is shrieking in my ears, but… I’m also grateful. I’ve got this new day.

Breathe, exhale, relax.

It’s a work day. I’m grateful for the job I have and the colleagues working with me. I’m grateful for every payday, and my Traveling Partner’s support of my professional endeavors.

It’s a Friday. I’m grateful to see the weekend arrive, feeling inspired and having made a firm commitment to myself to spend some time painting this weekend. I’m grateful for my Traveling Partner, who supports and appreciates my creative side.

I’m grateful that I have an appointment planned with my chiropractor this weekend for some myofascial release work that reliably gives me some real relief from this headache, however temporarily.

The bills are paid, the pantry is stocked, and the housekeeping is mostly pretty caught up. I’m grateful to have been able to sustain the energy to get shit done over days, weeks, and months that my Traveling Partner has been dealing with his injury. I’m grateful for how hard my partner works to stay pleasant and level-headed, in spite of pain and discomfort, depression and inconvenience, and dealing with his injury ceaselessly. My gratitude for his persistence and endurance are hard to overstate and I count on him more than is fair under the circumstances.

I’m grateful for my steadfast friendships. However far away, and however long it has been since we’ve seen each other, I’ve got some amazing friends, and I am so fortunate to know some truly lovely good hearted people.

I’m grateful for the love between my Traveling Partner and I. I’m grateful to love and to be loved. I’m grateful for the love I have learned to show myself. I’m grateful that love exists in the world at all – it’s a special thing. I am grateful for every chance to be more loving.

I’m grateful for this sunrise. I’m grateful for modern conveniences like running water, electricity, and internet connectivity, and this car that gets me where I want to go. I’m grateful for clean clothes to wear and sturdy boots that let me walk so many miles. I’m grateful to be able to walk. Yes, I am sometimes stressed that I may be losing my hearing, but I am also grateful to have it, now. I focus on the gratitude… and the now.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I put my focus on the positives, and all the many reasons I have to be truly grateful. It’s not that there’s nothing to be irked by, disappointed over, or dissatisfied with, it’s more that those feelings and experiences are by far the lesser portion of my experience, generally, and if I am willing to take a moment for gratitude I see that so clearly. So, this morning I do.

The morning is pleasant and mild. It’s a good one to walk with my thoughts. It’s a good morning for gratitude. It’s a good morning to begin again… I’m grateful to have the chance.

Every sunrise is a new beginning.

It’s a quiet start to the day. The morning air feels subtly autumnal. I find myself regretting that I didn’t wear my fleece hoodie. The walking warms me up though.

One perspective on the morning.

There’s a low mist clinging to the ground along the river when I begin my walk. It drifts over the meadow adjacent to the trail, becoming a thin fog. It’s very quiet this morning. I don’t hear any birds, or traffic, only my footsteps and my breathing.

It is a routine work day, possibly a busy one. There is a project to be done, later, and later still an evening meal to prepare. I sigh quietly as I walk. The to-do list is long. Having the Anxious Adventurer in the household lifts a measure of the everyday housekeeping burden, but greatly increases the “mental workload” and emotional labor landing on me day after day, on top of the increases associated with caregiving for my Traveling Partner. I’m less physically exhausted than I had been…but… I often find myself very much “over” dealing with people at all, far sooner than I typically might. It’s a struggle to get enough time alone, unbothered by what everyone else needs moment to moment, and undistracted by pings, questions, or requests for my thoughts on the various topics. I often end up feeling like a bitch just trying to get a moment alone with my thoughts.

… I’m grateful for this solitary time in the mornings (and I am pretty certain it’s keeping me sane).

I turn the last bend on the trail and sit down for a moment to think and to write. “This too will pass,” I remind myself. I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s time to begin again… I head down the trail towards the car, and the beginning of the work day.

It’s a new day. The sunrise has started. The trail ahead is revealed. The morning air is sweet with the scent of meadow grasses and wildflowers. The weather is pleasant and the temperature mild. It is, to be brief, a beautiful summer morning.

A new beginning.

I could have started down the trail earlier, but chose instead to sit quietly for a little while, enjoying this lovely moment. Worth it. It’s not that anything particularly noteworthy or interesting happened, quite the contrary; it’s just a pleasant quiet moment. Still, it’s been a very nice way to enjoy it, simply to sit quietly and be.

A lovely moment.

I put on my boots feeling relaxed, refreshed, and uplifted. The sunrise inspires me. Perhaps I will paint today, between loads of laundry? No grand agenda in mind, and the day ahead has no firm plan. It’s a long weekend, too, suitable for hanging out with my Traveling Partner and enjoying our precious all-to-brief mortal lives together. Maybe some gardening? I smile, feeling at ease and comfortable in my skin.

Breathe, exhale, relax.

I hit the trail happily with a goal in mind. 5 miles. Seems a good morning for it. The trail is not crowded yet. The sky flares boldly with shades of orange, peach, and pink, with hints of soft mauve and lavender. My mind visits my pastel box on the sly, recalling colors I have that would be useful to capture this colorful sunrise. I sigh contentedly and walk on.

So many colors, but can I capture a sunrise?

At the halfway point of my walk, I sit with my thoughts, looking out across the summer meadow. In winter, much of this broad meadow becomes marsh, and the migrating birds have it to themselves. I enjoy the view in all the seasons. I have not always been able to get this far down this trail. It’s very satisfying when I do, and worth stopping to enjoy the view – and the achievement. Someone else might not think this relatively modest success truly amounts to an “achievement”, I get it, but… I am living my experience, not theirs. lol

… Our small joys matter too, savor them!

I remind myself to be kind to people. I can’t really know what they might be going through, or how hard life is for them. It costs me nothing to be kind, it only requires consideration and practice. The “payoff” in goodwill (and a feeling of decency and civility) is very much worth the modest effort required.

I meditate for some little while, until I hear voices coming down the trail. I stand and stretch and prepare to finish my walk. The journey is the destination. It’s time to begin again.