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When It’s Good

February 22, 2026 //
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Enjoy the moment.

Stormy but mild, the weather is what it is.

Yesterday was lovely. Oh, not without a brief moment that was less than ideally harmonious, but we are human primates after all, the emphasis being on “primates”. Sometimes communication is more difficult than we’d like it to be, and in any household that includes me, this is complicated by both PTSD and brain damage. Still, generally speaking it was a lovely day spent in my Traveling Partner’s good company, and the rare moment of irritation or discord resulted in a better connection and clearer understanding of each other. Useful.

I make it a practice to focus on the positive, to reframe conflict in terms that allow me to grow and become more the person I most want to be over time, and as a means of allowing me to appreciate each finite mortal moment with my beloved. We’re both quite human. There’s no doubt we love each other deeply, and it truly matters to both of us to to heal, to support each other, and to move on from moments of conflict. Yesterday didn’t require much effort in that regard; it was a lovely day in good company.

I spent a good while reading, yesterday, which I enjoy quite a lot. I spent time writing and enjoyed sorting the many stickers my beloved Traveling Partner had gifted to me. (So fun! So delightful!) He worked on a project nearby, and we hung out together, each contentedly doing our own thing, together.

Today begins well. I get to the trailhead at sunrise, feeling well rested and merry. The walk down the marsh trail is pleasant, if a bit “squishy” from prolonged recent rain. It is sprinkling this morning. I don’t really care about that. I do care about the pain in my left foot (which I have been thinking was a flare up of tendonitis or maybe plantar fasciitis), which slows me down a bit. It becomes obvious as I walk this morning that it may be something much more practical in nature; I think the heel in these boots has some kind of “air cushion” or similar design, and I think the left side has blown out from wear. I’m annoyed by this because these boots can’t be re-soled. Well shit. They’re three, maybe four years old, and I’m probably due to replace them. I don’t really feel like dealing with that, but the path ahead will need sturdy boots, eh? That’s not even a metaphor; good boots make a lot of difference in the quality of a walking experience. I mean, okay, it’s also a metaphor.

…But I guess either way, I need new boots…

I stop a little farther on from my “halfway point”. I’m in no rush. It begins to rain a little harder and lacking overhead cover from the trees, I walk to the photographer’s blind grateful to find it unlocked, and unoccupied. It is a good spot to write and to take shelter from the rain.

What about the day ahead? No idea, really. Yesterday was lovely. There is no shopping to do, no errands on my to-do list, nothing on my mind. I’ll walk, and maybe do a bit of boot shopping before I head home to do some routine housekeeping and such. Maybe bake some bread if I have the energy later? Seems a good day for it. Maybe chili for dinner? I remind myself to check that I have all the ingredients.

Life being lived. Nothing extravagant or fancy, all pretty ordinary stuff. Where it gets complicated is that it is too easy to become wound up and twisted over some moment of disharmony or disappointment, and overlook all the joy and contentment. Savor the joy! Be present for the moments! Appreciating the pleasant moments and the small joys with the same focus, commitment, and energy we seem to save for arguments creates emotional resilience and a more accurate implicit sense of who we are and the life we lead. It’s also simply a very nice way to experience life fully; be present for each moment. That’s a pretty useful practice.

The rain stops. My Traveling Partner pings me a good morning greeting as he wakes. A large flock of geese passes overhead. There are more storm clouds on the horizon. The sky is a homogeneous milky gray. I sit with my thoughts and this quiet feeling of joy, and prepare to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, joy, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, The Art of Being, The Big 5, winter, Words

In The Beginning

February 20, 2026 //
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A new day is dawning. The morning is cold and misty. The trail is slick with lingering dampness from rain. No frost, but the winter chill reminds me how quickly conditions could become icy.

My eyes see shades of gray, the camera shows me blue hues. The oaks stand silent on the question of colors.

A mist develops, and begins to thicken and spread. Daybreak arrives with the fog. The day begins here, now. What will I do with it? One thing I won’t do with it is sit here for long minutes reflecting on life and watching the sun rise. First; it’s a foggy gray morning, and there won’t be much to see sunrise-wise. Second; it’s cold! I don’t prefer it for lingering outside, still and quiet. I’m already feeling the cold in my hands and in my bones. It’s a good morning to keep moving.

…I do like the walk through the fog, though. It brings mystery to the mundane and wonder to the familiar.

I breathe, exhale, and relax, as I stand and stretch. It’s as good a time as any to begin again. I look down the path into the fog. Where does this path lead? I’ll know when I get there, I suppose. The clock is ticking.

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Categories Allegories, anhedonia, Anxiety, art and the artist, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, joy, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, The Art of Being, War and News of War, winter, Words

What a Weird Messy World

February 19, 2026 //
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I woke up feeling restless and strange. Nothing specifically “wrong”, just feeling vaguely troubled by dreams already disappearing from my recollection, and starting the day in more pain than usual.

I dressed and slipped away into the darkness as quietly as I could, which wasn’t very quiet this morning. I dropped my phone, my key fob, snagged my handbag on a door knob causing my keys to jingle… It’s been that kind of morning; intention and effort rewarded by clatter and chaos.

I considered taking a seat at the local Big Coffee Chain cafe, but I seriously just don’t want to deal with people, at all. It’s pretty cold for walking (37F/2.8C). I vascillate as I drive… coffee? Walk? Back and forth, even as I pull through the drive thru and get coffee, before heading to the trailhead. I still haven’t started drinking it. I get to the trailhead before daybreak and reflect on how much I have appreciated recent later start times to my days, wondering again what woke me this morning? I sigh to myself, and prepare to start down the trail…

…It begins to rain. Steadily, and hard enough to chill me to the bone quite quickly, I rethink walking. Having lost interest in a cold rainy walk in the predawn darkness, I sit in the warmth of my Traveling Partner’s pickup, feeling loved. I’m grateful to have the use of it while my car is still at the body shop. The comfort and features have even changed my thinking about what vehicle will replace my car when it has reached the end of its serviceable lifespan. I’m not a huge fan of brand loyalty generally, any more than I think mindless partisan voting is a smart strategy. Smart for whom? Only for the brand or party, not for the voter or consumer. I shrug and let it go; it’ll be awhile before I buy a new car. Now is not that time.

The city beyond the horizon illuminates the cloudy sky above.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. The morning quiet here is well-suited to meditation. I feel calm and centered, ready for a new day. It looks likely to be an ordinary work day. My Traveling Partner invited me to work from home today, and his welcoming encouragement had me seriously considering it when I went to bed last night, but here in the darkness with my pain and somewhat antisocial feelings, I’m inclined to head to the university library once it opens and take a seat in one of the quiet study cubicles in the back. I’ll be close to home if anything urgent arises, and my beloved will be unbothered by my bullshit. Lest it seem I’m being overly considerate, this is quite a self-serving decision; I will be more easily able to focus on work without having to juggle consideration of my partner’s needs, too. Generally easier on both of us.

I sit with my thoughts, avoiding the news. The rain continues to fall. I don’t need to scroll through the news feed to know the world is a messy terrifying place right now. Genocide and violence are ongoing. American democracy is at risk, with key positions in government filled by grifters, and wholly unqualified unethical assclowns. Big tech companies are continuing to go about the business of making shareholders and CEOs rich at the expense of the sanity, health, and resources of everyone else. Human primates continue to be vicious, petty, greedy, and unkind to one another. It can be a pretty awful place, this peculiar mudball hurtling through space.

…but…

There is beauty here, too, in every sunrise and sunset, and every smile. I focus on that, this morning, as much as I can. I owe this to myself! The choice where to put my attention is my own. Drowning my consciousness in global misery does not make me more effective at making useful changes, or speaking my mind with clarity. We all need a break now and then,  a chance at rest and opportunities for joy. I breathe in, filling my lungs with rain-fresh winter air. I exhale slowly, thoroughly, letting go of anxiety and concern and worry over things I can’t control here, now.

Daybreak comes. The rain slows to a dense drizzle. I still don’t feel like walking, this morning, too much pain for walking in the rain. I sigh contentedly; the solitude is enough. A few more minutes, and then I’ll begin again.

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Categories 2024 Election, Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, The Art of Being, War and News of War, winter, Words

Steps on a Path

February 18, 2026 //
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I reached the trailhead at daybreak. The days are getting longer, and dawn comes a little earlier. I also slept a little later, and got a later start. It all makes sense.

The tangle of oak branches against the gray winter sky manages to look a little eery, and the marsh trail is quiet. I have it to myself this morning. It is a Wednesday. I took off from work for a appointment later; I would have had trouble focusing on anything else. It’s to do with a fraud someone attempted to perpetrate against us back in the fall. It was massively stressful, and without my Traveling Partner’s calm support, I’d have probably lost my mind. It helped that there were clear steps to take to protect myself, my property, and safeguard my family, but it was also costly and vexing. I’m glad it is over.

… Human beings can be such bastards…

Taking time for this moment, now.

I get to my halfway point, and stop awhile to write and reflect. (This is me, now, doing that.) It’s a cold morning. Properly cold, at 31F (0.5C). After my walk, coffee with a friend (who is also a colleague), and on into the city for my appointment. It feels like a busy day, but it’s more that the events on my calendar are significant or important in some way, than truly being busy. I think about that awhile; how subjective our sense of time really is.

An enormous flock of geese takes to the sky from the marsh. It fills the sky overhead as it passes. There is a thin layer of ice over the marsh ponds. The meadow grass sparkles with frost. However long or short the moments feel, in a practical sense there’s really only “now” to work with.

I think about my Traveling Partner, hoping he is getting the rest he needs and that I managed to slip away without disturbing him. We’ve had a couple of difficult days together, which sucks, particularly considering how much we’re both obviously putting into having a better experience than we are. Shit gets real sometimes. We’re both going through some health stuff that complicates our shared experience. We’ll get past these challenges. We’ve gotten through worse.

I yawn and stretch. My fingers are getting cold. I look down the trail – “steps on a path”, I think to myself. Time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, The Art of Being, winter, Words

The Unexpected Detour

February 15, 2026 //
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Once upon a time, many years ago, a younger version of me was making the trip down to visit family in Baltimore over a weekend. At the time, I was stationed at Aberdeen Proving Ground (more specifically, at Edgewater Arsenal). It was winter, and the roads were icy and there was a heavy snow falling. A smarter human primate would have more carefully considered the risks and stayed “home”, safe and warm in the barracks. I chose differently.

As the rear end of my Honda CRX Si broke loose from the icy road, and the car began to slide sideways around the tight curve of the offramp, spinning slowly, I resisted the urge to apply the breaks, began down shifting gently, and steering against the spin. I began rethinking my life choices. I came to a stop at the foot of the offramp, grateful there was no one behind me, and that I hadn’t hit anything. The car stopped, centered in my lane, but facing the wrong direction. I counted myself lucky, and got turned around, then finished my drive to my Aunt’s house.

… It’s a metaphor…

The unexpected is going to happen. However well-prepared we may think we are for this or that circumstance, we are mortal creatures of limited vision, and our meager preparations are no match for the vagaries of reality. Sometimes shit is just going to go sideways, whether we are prepared or not, and all we can do is hold on and do our best to “steer out of it”, and maybe learn something.

Yesterday was pleasant. The additional rest of sleeping in made a lot of difference and I enjoyed the day in my Traveling Partner’s good company. We are each having our own experience, and today is a new and entirely different day. Had I known when I woke this morning what I know now about where we each stand with our own shit to deal with, I might have made very different plans. 😆 Here I am, thoroughly human, crying in my partner’s pickup, parked at a local trailhead, thinking perhaps I’ll “just walk it off”, but it’s hard to walk while crying. My tears make my eyes burn, and the trail is crowded with strangers today. I don’t want to deal with them any more than I want to deal with me.

My head aches and my tinnitus is loud enough to be a distraction and uncomfortable. I’m irritable, partly just because those things are irritating, but also because my beloved is similarly irritable himself, for his own reasons, and we can’t manage to coexist in shared space, for the moment. Easier to just leave the house and know that one of us may find something like peace, maybe. Maybe not. I just don’t know what else to do at this point, besides give him space and take some for myself.

Like winter, circumstances are not personal.

The sky is gray. The trees are bare. The mild temperature doesn’t hide the fact that it is a bleak wintry day. I’m probably bringing the gray bleakness with me. I’d like to be at home, reading and resting or playing a video game, or baking or just anything besides sitting here crying in a parking lot. Acknowledging these feelings only serves to remind me I could have grabbed the book I’m reading and brought it with me. Stupid drama-prone primate brain! Inefficient. I sigh to myself. I try to meditate. I breathe, exhale, and… It’s hard to relax with my tinnitus shrieking in my ears this way.

A lot of the shit we go through is hard, but very little of it is “personal”. I remind myself to let small shit stay small, and to assume positive intent. I remind myself to do my best, and to take care of myself. I remind myself to be kind, patient, and compassionate – to my Traveling Partner and to myself. I remind myself to ask for help when I need it, and to accept it graciously when offered.

I reach out to the Anxious Adventurer, and ask if he can handle doing the dishes and making dinner? I’m grateful that he can. My feet already ache from my walk earlier, but I grab my cane and my resolve and get ready to put another mile on my boots. I want something better out of the day, and I will have to begin again to get there.

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