Archives for category: Free Will

G’damn, yesterday kind of sucked. I was in so much pain that managing it required more effort than usual and I ended up spending a notable portion of the day just laying down. I didn’t get shit done… like,  not anything, beyond making waffles for breakfast. Today I’m in less pain (so far), but my allergies are bad. I’ve already gone through an entire travel pack of tissues, and I’ve only been awake an hour and a half.

Yesterday didn’t go all that well, generally. Between my pain, my Traveling Partner’s pain, and various complications of managing chronic pain day-to-day, the result was an unfortunate amount of poor communication, inadequate mood-management, and vexatious terseness with each other that was the opposite of “getting along”. I’ve rarely felt so unwelcome in my relationship. I’m definitely not casting any blame; neither of us was up to delivering our best in the way of support,  encouragement, kind words, affection, or even a welcoming presence,  like, at all. It was unpleasant, but could have been ever so much worse. I sometimes wonder if we (either or both of us) fail ourselves – and each other – by being too tolerant or accommodating of poor behavior because we do both know just how much worse it so easily could be, because we’ve both had those other much worse experiences in prior relationships…? We for sure could potentially have done more, better, to treat each other well yesterday. We didn’t. We’re both quite human. It was on my mind when I woke this morning, and as I dressed and slipped out of the house with as much consideration for my partner’s sleep as I could muster.

I went to bed feeling frustrated and a bit peeved. I woke feeling only concern and love, and wanting to soothe my partner and invest positive emotional energy in the day ahead. Here’s hoping that works out for us both.

New day, new perspective, new opportunity.

I hit the trail feeling hopeful and stronger than yesterday, and substantially recovered from the exertion of my camping trip, and subsequent return. I feel up to tackling a good couple miles along the river and the edge of the marsh, and feel optimistic about following through on my list of shit yet to do, before the new week begins. Feels pretty good – definitely better than yesterday!

At my turn around point I sit for a few minutes listening to the birds and breezes, and the traffic in the distance. Memorial Day. Hey, I’m not feeling weighed down by grief and grieving, this year… remarkable. I sit with my feelings awhile. Gratitude and a moment to contemplate those who have fallen, with fond thanks, and soft sorrow… seems enough this year. I’m okay.

I sigh out loud, and breathe the Spring air deeply, taking in the scent of flowers. I think about my Traveling Partner, still sleeping at home (I hope), getting the rest he needs. The sun climbs higher, warming my shoulders as I sit, watching the river flow past. I hope today is mellow and cheery and relaxed. We both need that visceral experience of being wrapped in love and in the good company of someone dear to us. I’ll do my best to deliver… painfully aware that “my best” yesterday was not even close to “good enough”. How do I make ammends for my part in yesterday’s unsatisfying experience? I sit with my thoughts awhile longer…

I hear voices approaching from somewhere down the trail. Must be time to move on. lol I get to my feet, and prepare to head back to the car, and on to the next moment. It’s already time to begin again. Hopefully my results today are better than yesterday… they do vary.

I’m taking a few minutes, having a mid-morning, post-waffles, cup of tea (Smith’s No.120 Jasmine Nectar, which has a lovely delicate fragrance). The tea is quite good. The moment is… meh. It’s okay. Not great. Not terrible. Just a moment, and it’ll pass and I’ll move on to the next one. I’m in a ferocious amount of pain this morning, which colors every experience in spite of knowing how pointless and unhelpful it is for that to be a thing. I keep having to make a point of not allowing it to seep into every crevice of my awareness and experience. My results vary.

…The waffles were good, though…

I don’t feel inclined to finger-point, lay blame, or even “troubleshoot” this moment (or any previous, this morning), it’s not even about that. We’re each having our own experience. I’m pretty sure my Traveling Partner is in every bit as much pain as I am in, maybe more. That likely colors his experience, too. Probably best to simply acknowledge our individual and mutual discomfort and not take any of that at all personally. I sigh. Breathe. Exhale. Relax. (Fuck I wish I weren’t in so much pain, though… but at least the waffles were good…)

I think about the dishes that need doing. The laundry. Tidying up my office space in preparation for working from this location, generally. It didn’t sound like much to tackle when I woke up this morning. It seems almost too much, now. Nothing has changed but the amount of pain I’m in, and my perspective on the day (that is probably a lot to do with the pain I’m in). I’m glad it’s a long weekend… tomorrow may be better, but regardless, it’s at least another day to work on these “getting back to the day-to-day” sorts of details. I’ll be ready by the time the work week begins. I sure feel tired now.

I think about the wildflowers out on the coast and the ones on along the trail this morning. It’s interesting what a different assortment they are. I look for pictures, and only just now realize I didn’t take any this morning. I sort of just rather purposefully walked down the trail to “there”, and then back. It wasn’t a grim trudge, but it wasn’t notably joyful. I was just… existing. Doing a thing. I was already in pain.

I hear my Traveling Partner laughing in the other room. That brings a smile to my face, even though he’s been a bit cross this morning. He enjoyed the waffles, though – those were good, this morning. It was lovely to share that experience with him. Good waffles. 😀

…The waffles are gone. They were delicious. The moments pass. One by one they go from a moment of being to nothing more than a recollection. Impermanent. A small piece of a larger whole. Any given moment, however good, however difficult, is another chance to begin again. It’s something. It’s enough.

Breaking camp was pretty orderly, and time-consuming only because I chose to take my time and care for myself and the gear. The drive home was uneventful and I made pretty good time.

…Damn, I was sooo tired, though…

The afternoon and evening with my Traveling Partner were pleasant. It’s good to be home.

“The Alchemyst” in bloom when I arrive home.

Returning to the routine of day-to-day isn’t particularly strict or uncomfortable. I missed my comfortable bed, running water, my own bathroom (and not having to walk a distance to reach it). I’ve got a long Memorial Day weekend ahead of me, and I’m looking forward to spending it gently.

The weekend begins with accompanying my partner to an appointment. It was part of my plan, and not a surprise. Then we head home. There’s probably some grocery shopping to do… meal planning… put away the camping laundry (already washed and dried)… I’m not feeling overwhelmed by the growing list. My away time was deeply restorative. I needed it.

…Where will the day and weekend take me? I don’t know. I guess I’ll just follow my path and find out. I’d kinda like to go out for brunch… but I don’t think my Traveling Partner is quite up to that yet. Soon, maybe…

…I managed to spend 4 days camping without getting any insect bites… or so I thought. Apparently, I did get a couple my last day, and only noticed this morning. It’s just a couple bites, around where the top of my socks were, yesterday. I even remember a moment in the morning, as I got up, noticing a gap between my socks and the edge of my jeans, before I pulled my socks back up and the hem of my jeans back down,  and thinking “I’m lucky I didn’t get bitten…” lol I did. I  just didn’t feel it.

…What a good trip out. Well done  restful,  satisfying, and nurturing. I’m still smiling. Now it’s time to begin again.

It’s time to end something in favor of beginning something else. New beginnings often follow some ending quite closely.

I’m sipping my coffee wondering for the first time in days “what’s going on in the world, I wonder?” I guess I will know later on. For now it’s me, this cup of coffee, and this quiet morning. Very few other people are awake yet, with the exception of some early risers heading to lake to fish. Camps are quiet. I ground my coffee yesterday, to avoid waking people to the sound of a portable burr grinder. This is a very good cup of coffee, and the morning chill doesn’t hurt the experience at all.

I fuss with a torn cuticle that developed yesterday, which is how I discovered there’s no nail kit in my backpack, my assorted other gear and gear boxes, nor is there one in my fucking handbag! Which,  while I am on about oddities, why the hell did I even bring my damned handbag? It doesn’t belong in the woods. lol I make a mental note about ensuring there’s an easily accessible nail kit in my backpack. Definitely want to do that. So far I’ve managed to leave the torn cuticle alone. Didn’t know I had it in me to do that.

Coffee first… then tear down my camp, and repack and stow the gear for the trip home. If I do things correctly, I can stop by the storage unit on my way home and unload everything that isn’t kept at the house. Seems smart…

The moon lit the path, no headlamp required.

I got adequate rest, but of poor quality. I managed to wake up having to pee 3 times before the night was over. I definitely feel renewed appreciation for indoor plumbing and hot running water! I’ll be glad to be home (for a lot of reasons, including missing my Traveling Partner). It took more than two hours to get set up here. It’ll likely take about the same to tear down and repack, but mostly because I want to take the time to do it right, and make sure everything is put into the correct bin or box, and stowed safely for travel. I brought way more gear than I needed. More food, too, and although I never needed any of the freeze dried hiker meals, it was a secure feeling to have them available.

…Good coffee…

…Make breakfast, or just start packing…?

…Probably just start packing… but coffee first. Then I will begin again.

This morning I am sipping my coffee by the warmth of the fire in my propane-fueled FireCan (linked, because I love this thing). It’s the titular can to which I referred. lol

Taking the chill off the morning.

The “can’t”, on the other hand is all the stuff either utterly outside my control (like the rain expected later today), or outside the limitations of my abilities, or prevented by some fundamental of reality itself. My thoughts are provoked simultaneously by the chilly morning and this warm fire, and the rangers who happened by talking about another recent hiker death caused by straying off a marked trail, and falling to their mortal end. (Not here, but elsewhere in Oregon.)

Stay on the path, people, stay on the path.

…There is something to be learned about living well in the mistakes people make that so easily send them to their doom over an out-of-reach desire… or a fucking selfie. Just saying, in life and on the trail, plan your journey with as much care as you can, tell your loved ones where you’re headed, prepare for the likely conditions, and stay on the fucking trail. It can still all go very wrong, but you’ll have done your best to prevent mishaps through bad decision making. Maybe.

My coffee this morning is very satisfying. I am drinking more than usual and until later in the day, while I’m camping. That’s not unusual for me. It doesn’t seem to affect my sleep out here. Noise definitely does. Last night was very quiet. I slept well and deeply waking once to pee, and later to the sound of creature wandering through camp, perhaps very close, perhaps some kind of cat. Depending on the specifics, I guess I am glad we didn’t meet on the trek to the restroom, earlier. lol

A beautiful moon rising after sunset.

The moon lit the night sky such that when I woke during the night and got up to walk to the restroom, I didn’t need my headlamp at all. The night was surreal and beautiful in my less than ideally awake state. I wondered at the beauty of it all. I gazed into the night sky, through the shapes of trees silhouetted against the starry sky. Night even smells quite different, some flowers are more fragrant at night. The quiet was so… quiet. I lingered long enough for the chill to catch up with me, before I returned to my cozy sleeping bag, still warm from my body heat.

A crow is cross with me this morning. I wonder what he thinks I should be doing differently? A massive RV pulls past, loud engines giving voice to the amount of power it takes to move an entire house up a narrow road. I chuckle to myself. There aren’t that many campers in my age group still tent camping, seems like; they mostly prefer a nice comfy house on wheels of some sort. I get it. I’m not criticizing at all. Tent camping is a bit of work. There’s manual labor in the set up and tear down (so much), especially for campers who enjoy being “well-equipped”. (I’m honestly more “glamping” than camping, but doing so is built on my own labor, and I enjoy the little luxuries.)

I make a bite of breakfast. Freshly scrambled eggs with some squash and mirepoix, and sourdough toast, toasted over the fire. Some time after breakfast dishes are done, I’ll hit the trail, striking out in some new direction, on a path I’ve yet to walk… but I’ll totally stay on the path.

…It’s time to begin again…