Archives for category: inspiration

Filling the Empty Vessel

February 1, 2024 //

I hit the road a bit earlier than I’d planned, but happily so. I got a few things done to provide for my Traveling Partner’s comfort while I am away, and did a bit of tidying up, too. The drive was beautiful – mild temperatures, clear skies with just a few fluffy clouds scooting past on the breeze, and sunshine – it felt like Spring, and there was no traffic.

I arrived at my destination too early to check in to the hotel, so I went from favorite beach to favorite view point to favorite quiet corner, stopping to walk the beach, or sit in quiet meditation on a bench, rock, or driftwood log. It was a lovely way to pass solitary hours, and I arrived at the hotel nearer to check-in time with a smile on my face and feeling very relaxed.

After check-in, I discovered that the elevator was being serviced… so… several round trips from the ground floor parking up the stairs to the 4th floor room later, and I was finally “moved in”. 😀 I unpacked enough to plug in the computer, check my connectivity, verify my Blue Tooth devices were doing their thing, and put my phone on a charger. I unpacked toiletries to the bathroom counter. I grabbed my book, kicked off my shoes (put on my slippers) and sat down with a cup of tea and a contented sigh.

…I woke up later, the sun going down and twilight taking over… my Traveling Partner had pinged me a reminder that a favorite creator has a new episode coming out tonight. I say thanks, and set a reminder; something fun we can “do together” while we’re apart. I like that. There’s certainly room in my experience for that kind of shared fun. 😀

I shake off the remnants of sleepiness, and drink my (now cold) tea. I broke 3 finger nails getting my luggage to my room, so I cut my nails back and file them smooth to reduce the chances that I’ll end up biting them down to the quick. I make a fresh cup of tea (chamomile), and drag a chair onto the balcony to watch the light fade – no beautiful sunset on this cloudy overcast evening, but I love listening to the waves crash in, and breathing the fresh sea breeze. It’s a moment to savor, and very satisfying just as it is.

The ceaseless ringing in my ears is almost masked by the sound of wind and water. My headache almost fades into the background of calm and contentment. My arthritic spine seems irrelevant in this moment. It’s lovely. It’s enough. I sit with it awhile – as long as I can before darkness falls. It’s a good time to enjoy the evening light before I begin again.

Tags begin again, emotional self sufficiency, evening light, filling the empty vessel, perspective, practicing the practices, ptsd, savoring the moment, solitude, taking care of me, taking in the good, TBI, The Art of Being, there are verbs involved

Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, The Art of Being, winter

Now

February 1, 2024 //

The day began earlier than it needed to, and I am okay with it. I’m waiting for daybreak to get a walk in while my Traveling Partner sleeps. Afterwards, I will make a trip to the grocery store to stock up on things he likes (and can make pretty easily), and then do a bit of tidying up before I finally finish packing, load the car, and hit the road for a couple quiet days of (hopefully) restful downtime.

I spend a few minutes meditating. I look over my packing list for obvious omissions. I update my to-do list. I sit quietly, taking note of how my body feels, and “where my head is at”.

My tinnitus is loud today and I am in more pain than usual. I’m physically uncomfortable, but I also feel pretty good emotionally, and generally quite merry and eager to face the day. Learning to hold space for these very different experiences at the same time took a long time to learn, and longer still to recognize the value in doing so, but so worth it. Being able to acknowledge and enjoy what’s going well in spite of what’s going poorly is a way of preventing shitty experiences or feelings from wrecking my entire moment (or day). Handy, considering how often I am in pain.

I take a breath and sigh as I exhale. It’s early, but I go ahead and take something to help manage my pain. Self-care is important to my own well-being, sure, and it’s also something I can do to support my relationships; miserable people make other people miserable, too. I’m not miserable with pain yet, but I could easily become so, and that’d be a crappy way to start off on a few days solo.

I’ve packed my paint box. My camera is ready, too. I’ve put the Lord of the Rings “Return of the King” in my bag, planning to finish it. There’s very little packing left to do (my CPAP, my pillow, things I was using during the night mostly). I’m really down to doing things to maximize my Traveling Partner’s comfort and convenience while I am gone. I take a moment to sit in quiet contemplation; I am so grateful to have a partner who is comfortable with me taking a few days solo now and then, and who truly supports my emotional wellness.

I smile, thinking about how much I know I will miss my partner, even though I am choosing to be away, and really need this time. I also know I will return home eagerly and happy to see him, and to love and be loved. It’s useful perspective to miss each other now and then.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. Soon it will be daybreak. Soon it will be time to begin again.

Tags basic self-care, be here now, begin again, doing it my way, downtime, going coastal, meditation, pain management, ptsd, spending time with the woman in the mirror, taking care of me, TBI, tinnitus, walking my own mile, what matters most?

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

Countdown to Solitude

January 31, 2024 //

Some people are not at all into being alone. Solitude can be nerve-wracking for people who don’t like being alone. I’m not one of those people. Quite the contrary, some of my easiest most relaxed and comfortably contented moments are those when I am alone. I enjoy a solitary hike more than I enjoy companionship on the trail, and even the distant presence of others within view is a subtle irritant when I am most craving solitude. It’s beyond the irritation that is the sound of voices… it’s almost as if the mere presence of another human consciousness is too much for mine. It’s a little weird, because human primates are social creatures – even me. I just happen to have a strong liking for solitude, and a relatively high need for it, from a basic self-care perspective. Yes, yes, I know; it’s likely a trauma thing, but honestly that’s neither here nor there when it comes time to care for this fragile vessel in practical terms.

I’m sipping my coffee and counting down the hours; tomorrow I head to the coast for a couple days of quiet solitude. I’ll have my paints with me, my camera, and I’ll be near to a couple of favorite trails, and miles and miles of walkable beach. I’ll bring Lord of the Rings (books) – maybe I’ll finish it? I’ll sleep in (maybe) and nap (probably), and my life will not be constrained by clocks or calendars or lengthy to-do lists. It’ll just be me, being. I’m looking forward to it. Like… a lot.

…Funny… I’m also aware that I’ll miss my Traveling Partner the entire time I’m gone (which is okay, we gain a lot of perspective on how deeply we love each other when we have a chance to miss each other now and then)…

Yesterday’s unexpected almost-Spring weather of breezy sunshine and mild temperatures has given way to stormy gray clouds and intermittent rain. This does nothing to dampen my enthusiasm for tomorrow’s drive, or the coastal weekend ahead; rain or shine a view of the ocean is a marvelous change of scenery. When I go to this favorite location, I often leave the balcony door open wide to the ocean breeze and the sound of the waves crashing in for hours. If it’s chilly weather, I put on layers. I love to listen to the sound of the seashore. (Funny how different from each other the Atlantic and Pacific coasts sound. Funnier still that they both remind me of my Granny, and times we spent on the seashore together.) Being on the coast, near the seashore with a view of the ocean, really does something to replenish and recharge me. Similar-but-different to forested getaways or visits to vast plains or deserts; they each have something to offer the solitary traveler.

…I used to think I might like to take a cruise, then I really considered being crowded into a huge floating city with thousands of very human strangers and… um… no. That actually doesn’t sound pleasant at all. Too much people-ing. lol

So, yeah, the countdown to solitude has commenced in earnest… tonight I’ll pack my paints in my paint box for portability. Tomorrow… everything else, and a trip to the store for my Traveling Partner so he can also comfortably chill and enjoy some time on his own terms without having to fuss over groceries. The plan is made, and so are the reservations. 😀 It’s almost time to begin again.

Tags begin again, emotional self sufficiency, going coastal, perspective, practicing the practices, ptsd, solitude, taking care of me, TBI, The Art of Being, there are verbs involved

Categories Allegories, art and the artist, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, The Art of Being, winter

Making a List

January 28, 2024 //

I’m sitting at the trailhead, waiting for the sun. I use the time to meditate, which doesn’t use all the time I have for waiting. I sit quietly awhile, reflecting on life, generally, and looking out over the seasonal lake on the other side of the highway observing the way the clouds and water reflect distant lights. I listen to the sounds of traffic, and my ceaseless tinnitus.

I take a moment to make a packing list for my upcoming weekend trip to the coast. I decided last night to take a paint box with me, and maybe spend some time painting seascapes and coastal landscapes. Should be fun and relaxing. My packing list completed, I update my to-do list for today, too. It’s not a lot, but the meal I plan to make for dinner has some specifics that will drag my ass into the kitchen for some tidying up, and I definitely need to finish doing the dishes so the kitchen will be ready for cooking a proper meal later. I’m making a Bolognese sauce and I plan to make enough to have some left to set aside for my Traveling Partner to enjoy while I am gone.

The day feels planned. Even the next few days seem pretty well laid out. Oh, for sure my lived experience will have some variations from anything I’ve put on a fucking list; the map is not the world. Still, I feel prepared, and that’s a feeling I like.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. This is a pleasant quiet moment, as I wait for the sun. The weather is unseasonably mild, and it’s not raining. I sit quietly, enjoying the moment for what it is before I begin again.

Tags a morning routine, be here now, begin again, breathe exhale relax, doing it for me, making a list, meditation, my results vary, perspective, practicing the practices, savoring the moment, self-care, sit happens, waiting for the sun, walking my own path

Categories art and the artist, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Practices, solo hiking, The Art of Being, winter

Winter Rain

January 27, 2024 //

It’s late January and it’s raining. That’s not unusual in this area, particularly over the past few years; ice storms are rare these days, and even weather cold enough for snow is uncommon. It rains. It’s been raining all week and the forecast suggests the rain will continue through the week ahead. I’m okay with it, I like the rain. I’m sitting at a trailhead waiting for a break in the rain to get a walk in on a Saturday morning.

Where I’m parked I have a view of the low lying fields on the other side of the highway. Each Winter when the rains come, these fields slowly transform over days into a broad shallow seasonal lake. The migrating birds love it. I enjoy it, too. It’s good for pictures of sunrises reflected by the smooth calm surface of water on a calm day. In the pre-dawn darkness, it reflects the street lights of the neighborhood beyond. Pretty.

I look over the errands I plan to take care of on my way home later this morning and think ahead to my weekend on the coast next weekend. I’m excited about it, but experience a twinge of anticipatory “missing my Traveling Partner”. I always do miss him when we’re apart from each other. I still need the time away, it’s very much a self-care thing for me. It can be pretty difficult to get the solitary time I need when I cohabitate with a partner or as a family. I’ve learned to make that time happen as a personal priority. I can become pretty stressed and hard to live with when I don’t.

Emotional and psychological wellness is worth the work involved in good self-care. It took too long to learn that. lol

I sit quietly awhile, letting my thoughts drift through my mind like clouds on a breezy day. I listen to the sound of traffic in the rain and wonder briefly why there seems to be so much of it so early on a winter Saturday. I don’t actually care about that and the thought dissipates almost as quickly as it was noticed.

… The rain has stopped. Now I wait for daybreak, hopeful and encouraged, eager to walk the trail that winds between the river and the marsh. Eager to begin again.

Tags basic self-care, be here now, cure for pain, enjoying the moment, meditation, my results vary, petrichor, ptsd, rain, savoring the moment, taking care of me, there are verbs involved, waiting for the sun, walking my own path, what does happy feel like?, winter weather

Categories breathe, Free Will, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, The Art of Being, turning 60, winter, Words

Filling the Empty Vessel

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Now

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Countdown to Solitude

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Making a List

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Winter Rain

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