Archives for category: inspiration
« Older Entries
Newer Entries »

The Can, and the Can’t,

May 21, 2024 //
0

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…

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Practices, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being

Lessons and Metaphors

May 20, 2024 //
0

This bit of downtime is giving me quite a lot to reflect on. I’ve caught myself chuckling over that more than once, since I got here with plenty upon which to reflect, as it was.

It’s been a lovely day.

I slept badly last night, restless and wakeful, dreaming that I was awake even when I did manage to sleep. I was cold for a long while, in spite of a warm sleeping bag, blankets, and layers. I was too tired to do anything much about the sensation (and I was pretty sure it was mostly in my head). I lay awake, often, thinking about other cold nights in tents. lol Fucking dumb, and pointless. Definitely not helpful.

I finally managed a deep restful sleep after the Party People at the site next to mine stopped drinking and fucking, sometime around midnight. I knew what I could expect when they rolled in: two cars, two couples, one tent and a cooler, no gear, and three shopping bags of grab-n-go snacks, and many six packs of hard cider. lol Based on the coughing and giggling, they were probably also getting high af. Don’t misunderstand me, here, I’m not criticizing the choice to spend a night outside partying with friends. I just found the lack of preparedness for a basic outdoor experience a little funny. And also… they were keeping me awake. lol

…I pause to put more wood on my camp fire…

So many lessons to be learned in one mortal lifetime. I wonder if I will ever get through them all? What does a passing grade look like on life’s final exam? What would it mean to be the best student “in the class”?

I watch the fire crackling away, feeling the heat of the fire and the chill of the evening  depending on which way the wind is blowing. There’s a metaphor there, and something deeper to understand. I  sit with my thoughts awhile.

The edge of the Oregon dunes.

My morning coffee was so good, warming and welcoming, I made three cups before I hit the trail for my morning hike along the lake, to the edge of the dunes. The views were splendid. I am camping in time to see the wild rhododendrons in bloom! I hadn’t expected that. Delightful.

Wild rhododendrons

I’ve pushed myself so hard getting prepared, packed, and getting set up once I got here, I ended up taking it pretty easy today. One mile and a half walk along an easy trail at a very relaxed pace, taking pictures of flowers,  and the rest of the day mostly meditation. I got a bit of the rest I needed in the quiet hours between check-out time and check-in time, napping while the sun warmed the tent. It was wonderful and felt quite luxurious.

I took time to prepare for the rain the forecast says is likely tomorrow… Maybe we’ll get another solar storm and some warmer days instead? (Wishful thinking.)

I sit quietly. Contented, if a bit chilly. I think about adding a sweater and base layers, and making a cup of tea… the journey is the destination – and I’m here, now.

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Practices, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, Uncategorized

Evening Light

May 19, 2024 //
0

There is a crow that is apparently a regular visitor to my camp site. This crow has come by a dozen or so times since I arrived around 11 a.m. this morning. I get the impression that my visitor is checking out my camp, probably watching to see where I might leave something tasty laying around unattended. I would leave a couple plump sweet cherries on the far side of the picnic table,  but apparently I’ve grown up at least a little bit, and I resist the impulse, reluctant to mess with the natural foraging behavior of the crow. We watch each other. Time passes.

…It’s quite early to be “evening”, really,  but the moment has that feeling to it…

I took my time getting here, and I didn’t rush getting camp set up (sometimes I time myself and try to beat my previous set up times). Instead of my usual 45 minutes to an hour for set up time (from parked to feet up sipping coffee), today it was a relaxed 2.5 hours. Oh, I moved pretty quickly through setting up the Moon Shade, and the camp kitchen and solar power,  but I dithered over where to put my tent, and stopped for a break to buy fire wood and find the restrooms. Once I resumed setting up (just my tent and laying out my bed), I was done pretty quickly. I think it took me about an hour and a half of actual setting up.

As the sun begins to sink low in the sky, the mild afternoon sunshine begins to take on the chill of the coastal breeze. I started a fire about an hour ago with this change in temperature in mind. It crackles merrily, and even though it’s a smallish fire, I’m warmed through and the temperature in my camp generally is a bit less chilly. Besides, I really like sitting by the fire with my thoughts. I don’t even know if this post will upload when I hit “publish”… the connectivity is very unreliable. I like it that way out here every bit as much as I appreciate the reliable high speed connection at home. The context matters.

I sigh contentedly. I needed this.

The sun continues to drop lower in the sky, peeking through the Spring foliage. So many shades of green! I walked a bit finding the restroom, earlier, and noticed so many wildflowers blooming! Tomorrow I will hit the trail with my camera and see what flowers are blooming and take pictures of them. Maybe do some sketches or watercolor in the heat of the afternoon? Today I spent my energy and time just getting here and getting set up. That’s okay; it’s all I needed from myself. It’s enough. Now I can just relax by the fire.

Thimble berries blooming.

Tomorrow is soon enough to begin again.

Tags , , , , , , ,
Categories Allegories, breathe, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Practices, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being

Hand-crafted Stillness

May 18, 2024 //
0

I woke early and headed to a favorite trail. It was already daylight when I reached the trailhead. I had the trail (and the park) all to myself this morning and enjoyed my walk, listening to birdsong, the distant sound of traffic on the nearby highway, and the crunch of of my steps on the trail.

I’m sitting at my half-way point, now, enjoying the stillness I walked so far to reach. 1.5 miles. My first 3 mile walk in awhile, by the time I get back to the car. Feels good. It’s an overcast morning. Looks like it might rain. I breathe the cool air deeply, taking in the scent of Spring wildflowers. Lovely morning for it.

Today I’ll spend the day on various preparatory tasks for my camping trip; I leave tomorrow morning sometime. (I’m not rushing and don’t have any reason to set some firm timeline.) I’ll do a few things to help ensure my Traveling Partner only misses me because he loves me, not because there’s some massive inconvenience that is difficult for him to overcome. I’ll make a point of having him give me a refresher on setting up and using the solar power; it’s the sort of “use it or lose it” knowledge I am at risk of discovering I’ve lost, just when I need it most, and I’ve only taken the system with me for solo camping once before. Not enough practice with it, yet, to count on implicit memory.

…Tomorrow is so soon…

I’ve already fueled up the car. Had a couple repairs and some maintenance done. Got the oil changed. Made sure the wiper fluid is topped off. Fixed a broken latch on the lid of the center console (should have been done months ago). The car is ready for the next long drive. Next is packing the gear that’s at the house. Tomorrow, on my way out of town, I’ll stop by storage for the rest of the gear I need; I’ve already checked it out and figured out what goes and whether it fits in the Mazda.

…I  remind myself to take a minute with my partner to check the gear in the truck; there are probably a couple things I want that are kept in the truck, generally…

…Another trip to the store, too…

Mildly vexed by the cloudy morning, I check the weather forecast for my camp site again; still says sunny weather most of the time I expect to camp. I’m happy about that, but also unconvinced – and unconcerned. The weather will be whatever it is and I can’t do a thing about that, besides prepare for it. The map is not the world. The plan is not the experience. The forecast is not the weather. lol

I’m excited to get started, but equally eager to enjoy a relaxed experience, treat myself and my partner well, and avoid later aggravation by being well-prepared and un-rushed. It’s a bit of a balancing act. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I have no potential to find myself “running late”, my time is already my own for the next 7 days. That feels amazing. I can’t possibly find myself “ahead of schedule” or finding my plan going sideways, this simply isn’t built on such a delicate plan at all. Damn, it feels good to just not even worry about time or timing. I needed this rest, so much.

I sigh and laugh at myself, when I catch myself checking my watch for the time. lol These all too brief mortal lives are so time-bound. Hilarious. We made that shit up, and routinely forget there’s only now.

…Still…It’s a good time to begin again. Time to head back down the trail…

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, turning 60

If You Weren’t Here, Now, Where Would You Be?

May 16, 2024 //
0

Tomorrow is for sure my last work day in this lovely office space. I’m not changing jobs; we’re leaving this space. Feels… strange. It’s okay. Not a sorrowful moment, just a moment. I sit quietly, looking out these windows at this view, and wondering what my day-to-day experience will be like after I return from my camping trip to a new, different, routine? Probably still pretty routine; that’s how I tend to live, mostly. lol

…I didn’t have to commute to this place to do the work I could as easily have been doing at home. I embraced the commute, and this space, as an opportunity, and I’ve enjoyed it for these past 8 months or so. Change is. I’m okay with that. I’m also okay with giving up the cost of fuel for the commute, and parking in the city, and all the vexing details that go along with all of that…

Traffic.

I’m counting down the days until my camping trip. My Traveling Partner was frank last evening that he’ll miss me, that it’s hard to do everything for himself when I’m away right now (while he recovers from an injury), and that he’s also a bit jealous to be stuck at home while I am camping. That’s real. I feel for him – and I feel fortunate to be so loved as to be missed when I’m gone. That’s beautiful. We both get something out of missing each other now and then, and I know I’ll miss him too. I also yearn for this time away, which I will spend in a solitary way, quietly among the trees, on the trail, or by the campfire. I need this solo time much the same way he needs the joyful camaraderie of our union as lovers and traveling companions on life’s journey – we do our best to strike a healthy balance, so we each thrive individually and together. He probably gets more time alone than he needs (I often find myself a bit jealous of that), and I don’t always get the solitary time I need – but we know the needs are there (his for steady, close companionship, mine for interludes of aloneness), and we work together to meet them (all). Funny how much love makes that matter – and how hard love can make it to achieve. It’s a peculiar puzzle.

“Life Sparkles (with the love we feel)” 11″ x 14″ acrylic on canvas w/glow and glitter 2018

I think about the here and now, and contrast it with daydreams of other places, other lived experiences, over the course of this one lifetime. There are so many experiences that I will likely never have, that I’ve often considered, or even yearned for. We make choices, and follow the path our choices take us down. Some choices take a few items “off the menu”, and some choices open grand vistas of new opportunities to consider. There’s a lot of variety in the human experience. I sit with my coffee, considering my choices, and where they have lead me. I couldn’t always say so, but it is very true today; I am walking my own path. That feels pretty good. I’m okay with where I am standing in life, presently. It’s a good place to be, although the world often feels like a pretty seriously fucked up mess on a terrifying order of magnitude (when I zoom out to consider that)… up close, this one life, this moment here, is pretty good. I’m okay… contented. Even “happy”. Deeply in love with my partner. Working a job I find satisfying, alongside people I respect and enjoy as both people and as colleagues. Living fairly simply in a little home I can call my own. I’ve got a veggie garden, beautiful roses, a small library of books I love. I’m fortunate. I can’t attribute all of my good fortune to my exceptional decision-making… because frankly, that’s not been the case for me. I’ve bungled a ton of shit, and made so many awful choices in life… but… I’m here, now, and this is a good place to be. I’ve gotten lucky, a lot, and I’m grateful for the circumstances and friendships that have paved this path, and continue to light my way.

Like a potted rose slaking its thirst on a gentle rain; I’m grateful.

I sigh contentedly. Be here, now. Good suggestion, if you like where you’re standing. If that’s not the case, it’s time to begin again, perhaps, and choose differently? So many choices. They aren’t all easy – and mistakes will be made. Results will vary. Verbs will be involved. The best plans still require attentive follow-through, care, and action. Sometimes adulting is hard. Sometimes life is filled with sorrow. We fail, we fall, we hurt, we struggle… and then we begin again. No do-overs, really, but we can pick ourselves up, brush the dirt off our knees and the tears off our cheeks, and walk on. Mostly it’s enough. The journey is the destination. We become what we practice.

…What are you practicing?…

I chuckle when I notice how filled with aphorisms and purpose-built slogans this particular bit of writing happens to be. I’m okay with that, too. “Repetition is learning.” I heard that first from a monster, many years ago, under circumstances I don’t care to repeat (or share in any detail). The source of useful information has nothing much to do with the usefulness of the information, itself. Another good lesson learned.

Change is. Choose wisely.

I look fondly out the windows to the park below. It’s a lovely view and I’ll miss it, but it’s time for change – and time to begin again.

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Spring, The Art of Being, turning 60
« Older Entries
Newer Entries »