Archives for category: Oregon Trails

Practical Adulting

August 10, 2016 //

I’d put it off for weeks. (For years?) It wasn’t even a long hike (2.5 miles). It wasn’t rough terrain, just steep (as steep as 6%). As a bus ride, Terwilliger Blvd is long-ish, twisting through forest, around the sides of small-ish mountains, gaining and losing elevation. It’s also quite lovely, with views that are difficult to enjoy driving a vehicle, or to enjoy long enough as passenger. I’ve had my eye on walking it for… years. Yesterday was a lovely cool misty gray morning, suitable for hiking. So I went.

Hey, this isn’t so bad…

I felt rather reassured that on foot, the perceived steepness of the paved trail seems quite manageable. Trail? Sidewalk? Hiking? Walking? Do those distinctions matter? Not today.

In the distance, a city I love.

The first view-point, hiking from my starting point at Sam Jackson Park Rd, was well up the hill and quite beautiful enough that if the hike had been tough going, I could have contentedly turned back at that point and felt satisfied with my progress… maybe. I exchanged pleasant greetings with a nice elder gentleman smoking a large aromatic cigar, and walked on.

A route for another day.

I observe side trails along the way, taking note of each one and considering future hikes as I pass by. Once they are behind me, I return my attention to the path I am on, and this moment, now.

What’s left of us when we’re gone?

Along the road, off in the weeds, are the remnants of a well-planned exercise course laid out along Terwilliger Parkway. It hasn’t been maintained. The signage is rotting away in the weeds. Stations with exercise equipment still in place (like this one with a balance bar) are in disrepair, and not safe to use. We leave bits of ourselves behind as we move forward in life, don’t we? I found myself curious about the vision and intent of the parkway itself, and promise myself I’ll read up on it when I return home.

Nearing the top… and a place to rest.

It would seem amusingly metaphorical some minutes later… but for now, I pause to enjoy a celebratory moment – I can see ‘the top’ just ahead!

The top!

Nope. Not the top at all. Just a peak, not the peak. There’s a lesson to be learned there, something about becoming attached to, or emotionally invested in, some goal or another… 🙂

…And then, too, there’s the part about how it rained softly much of the way.

I have a raincoat, and proper rain gear for hiking. I could have worn it. Or brought it. Or checked the forecast. Instead, I just enjoy the soft mist, and cool fresh scent of petrichor as I walk through the forest.

Another beautiful view.

I look eagerly up the trail… (“No. It’s not the top. Stop asking.” I tell myself.)

Beautiful parks and green spaces dot the trail.

It’s a lovely day, and delightfully, I have the trail (and the day) mostly to myself. It is quiet, aside from the sound of traffic passing me now and then. Good timing… mid-morning on a Tuesday. 🙂

Just beyond the forest, the city.

I keep walking. The trail keeps climbing.

Some of the exercise stations are well back into the trees, and quite overgrown.

Every point of view is subtly different. Each perspective on the city and the world beyond has nuance, and value. The trail just keeps climbing. So do I.

More forest, please.

More acreage has been added to the original parkway over time. The high value placed on green spaces in the community is a characteristic I cherish about living in this area. More forest, more green, more trails… more ways to find a few chill content moments of stillness in a busy world. [Your results may vary.]

A handy side trail down into the dense wetland acreage conveniently at hand.

I stare down the trail into the wetland acreage… It’s tempting… but a lot steeper than I feel prepared for… and I’ve just spent nearly an hour walking a more or less continuous incline. I’m already feeling it. I’m not up to it, standing there staring down the steep staircase built into the bank… but I am thinking about other days, other hikes… I walk on.

Looking back from around the next bend.

I almost reconsider that side trail… I look back from farther up the trail, and see the staircase down through the trees from the other side. New perspective. Yeah… totally too steep for me, in that moment then. I chose wisely. I continue to walk on. My only real destination is to finish the 2.5 miles I’ve planned, and reach the bus stop at the far end. I’ve passed the last bus stop I could take if I cared to shorten the trip; I have to reach the finish at this point.

An exercise station deeper into the forest.

Each exercise station I pass reminds me of other forgotten human endeavors, trips with my Granny to see ghost towns, crumbling homesteads along country roads, isolated cabins left standing in land claimed by national parks… we settle, we live, we move on…

Approaching the final peak on this trail (in this direction).

I laughed at myself when I experienced real relief seeing the final peak in elevation just ahead. Tired, and feeling more committed than joyful at that point, I feel renewed and re-energized by the feeling of achievement. Silly primate – it’s just a hill. lol

Unexpectedly pointless…

I shot a picture standing in a moment of utter stillness. No cars. No voices. No traffic in the distance. Nothing but the soft breeze, birdsong, and one still moment. I breathe. Relax. Exist so gently and contentedly… one moment that put the entire walk into perspective. This. This is my destination. A picture seemed appropriate…

…It was the last picture I took, with half a mile left to go. 🙂 I rounded the next bend and instantly frustrated myself with regret about the way I use my device; the battery died entirely, and my device powered down just as I approached a viewpoint called “Eagle Point”, with a carved wood totem pole standing nearby, and the landmark restaurant located there, The Chart House. I might have considered stopping there for coffee, but I was completely distracted by the sudden lack of camera, my feet were really aching by that point, and the bus stop was just a half mile further, down hill. I got started walking, after a few minutes enjoying the view from Eagle Point.

My bus ticket? On my device, which was as entirely dead and powered down as a device can be and still ever come back to life. lol I’m fortunate that the bus driver was very understanding about it, and my morning hike ending as the afternoon took over. If I took a moment I could remember what I did with the rest of the day… I do remember feeling quite content. That’s enough.

Every day is a solo hike on life’s journey. Destinations come and go, and have only as much meaning as I give them. The map is not the world. The destination is not the journey. I am my own cartographer, and each day is a new beginning. The future is a vast unwritten page in our unfinished story. What will I do with it?

(There are verbs involved.)

Tags a solo journey, are you going my way?, be the change, begin again, being and becoming, breathe, emotional self sufficiency, good self-care, I am my own cartographer, meditation, mindfulness, Oregon trails, perspective, practicing the practices, ptsd, taking care of me, TBI, Terwilliger Parkway, The Art of Being, the map is not the world, there are verbs involved, walk on, walking my own path, what matters most?

Categories Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being

Lovely Morning, Dreadful Coffee

August 6, 2016 //

On a whim, yesterday, I put aside my doubts and concerns and hit the trail for a few hours. I definitely needed that. I arrived home tired, feet aching, and feeling renewed, and more “aware of myself” in some hard to describe way. It was a good day for it, and I found the deep feeling of peace and contentment I was yearning for. This too shall pass. 😉

Today has not yet begun, and there’s little to say about it at this point; my coffee is terrible. Yep. I wasn’t really awake, muddling around clumsily. This carelessly made cup of coffee is both bitter and insipid…but it’s hot, it’s got some caffeine in it, I made it for myself, and there’s no one here to impress. I sip it slowly (it’s still quite hot), unconcerned about those other details. I… just don’t actually care this morning that this particular cup of coffee is pretty awful; I made it for myself, and I’m appreciative that I have it now. 🙂

I am struck by a question; do I treat myself better when I hike regularly? I think over yesterday’s journey.

Bees enjoy roses.

I began at the rose garden, picnic lunch in my daypack. I got a later than usual start and the idea of having my lunch among the roses sounded lovely. It wasn’t really… it was crowded with tourists there, even on a weekday. I shared a shaded bench with an elder traveling from afar. We talked of roses, gardens, grandchildren, sunny days, and love.

Tourists also enjoy roses.

I wasn’t looking for company, and when I’d finished lunch I offered my well-wishes to the human being sharing the bench with me and continued on my way, seeking… something. At that point, I didn’t have something specific in mind.

I set off through the trees.

My frustration followed me up the trail at first, in the form of inescapable children’s laughter from the playground area I’d passed by. As the trail became steeper, and wound away from the sounds of the road nearby and the playground now in the distance, the world grew quieter.

What am I seeking? Does it determine what I am able to find?

I kept walking, having fairly quickly reached a seeming ‘the way out is through’ location on the trail. I took fewer pictures than I often do; this one was for me, in that moment, and savoring it was urgently more needed than saving it for later. I listen to myself silently bitch awhile… about the weight I’d gained and haven’t lost, about my feet aching, about the distant sound of traffic (barely audible at that point), about feeling reluctant to return to the work force, about how much harder a steep hike is than I’d like – I was really working at this one!! Then, I really heard me. I stopped at a likely looking log suitable for sitting, and I took some time for that, too.

I’d reached a point in the journey well-suited for stillness. Quite a luxury – no sound of voices, no sound of traffic, and having stopped walking, even the sound of footsteps and self faded from memory. No clock, no timer, no agenda, just one quiet moment to embrace stillness under the trees. I had “arrived”.

Bathed in light, wrapped in stillness. Walking on.

Some time later I resume hiking the trail, considering myself more or less ‘half way’ – since I had “arrived” at a “destination”. It was a lovely day for it, neither too hot nor too cold, and no hint of rain to muddy the trail.

I walked on, contemplating emotions, thoughts, the nature of those things, how they work with or against each other, and in what context. I thought about how much effort so many of us put into forcing ourselves – or others – into tiny well-defined boxes of characteristics, almost insisting that if a being has any one of them, that being must therefore have all those that we have associated with it. We make ourselves crazy forcing our expectations and assumptions on one another. Silly monkeys, we’ve so much room to grow, to live more skillfully, with more heart… “I’ll get right on that” I assure myself, and smiling, I walk on.

That looks painful…

I walk past a tall tree with a spectacular wound, its lifeblood flowing down to the ground, without visible motion, timeless, enduring. I wonder if that hurts? I can’t imagine having such a wound and not being in pain. I think about how we treat each other, as if our wounds don’t pain us, as if we are not suffering together. I stand in silent gratitude for the lesson, and feel that immense sense of age and wisdom, grand experience, mighty tolerance and perspective that I so often feel present, deep in some forest. Small stuff seems pretty small out here. “What are they thinking?” I wonder – I always wonder.

There’s further to go.

I walk on. I walked a good while, actually, covering about 3.5 miles of decently steep well-maintained trails. Once I entered the Hoyt Arboretum, I enjoyed winding around from this trail to that one without much attention to my map, enjoying short bits of trail through distinctive groves. I was alone throughout, without even passing others on the trail, until I got quite near to the end point of my hike, at the light rail station.

I stood waiting for the train, content and still quite alone, enjoying the stillness that seemed to so completely ‘belong to me’, a sort of distillation of satisfaction, contentment, and ease that felt rather similar to post-coital bliss in some way that I found mildly unsettling, and therefore also somewhat amusing. More than “okay right now” – I even felt “happy”. 🙂

There were verbs involved… some that needed doing, some that needed to be discontinued.

I wonder if I’ve learned anything? I wonder what today holds? I wonder if my second cup of coffee will be better – and I wonder if I’ll care if it isn’t? Today is a good day for wonder. 😉

Tags are you going my way?, be the change, begin again, being and becoming, breathe, do you?, emotional self sufficiency, good self-care, life is a banquet, listening deeply, live live live!, meditation, mindfulness for beginners, mindfulness matters, out in the trees, perspective, practicing the practices, solo hiking, stay on the trail, stop and smell the roses, take a picnic lunch, the map is not the world, there are verbs involved, walk on, walking my own path, what do the trees say about it?

Categories Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being, weight loss secrets, Words

Easy and Hard

July 5, 2016 //

I could so easily mess with today by getting myself invested in expectations of misery, frustration, and boredom… I caught myself on the first attempt, and gave myself a chance to reconsider. I’m going down to the VA today, to wait on a cancellation or other opportunity to get my imaging done sooner than the [only available] scheduled appointment more than three weeks away. I’m hopeful I’ll be fortunate, and that my patience will pay off today. If it doesn’t – there’s tomorrow, and I’d likely commit 2-3 days a week to this, to get the images done sooner than later.

It’s a journey, there is no map. Sometimes, there is no trail.

This is where things start getting trickier for me; my perspective, my experience, my emotions… those are just me. What about ‘everyone else’? It’s a matter of balance, and sure, perspective, too. It matters that “we are each having our own experience”, because “we’re all in it together”. Today I will do my best to be approachable, to-the-point, and calm. I’ll listen deeply, and do my best to avoid interrupting. I’ll ask clarifying questions. I’ll be patient with others and respect their humanity. I will remind myself regularly that at the VA almost everyone hurts in some way, and be considerate and compassionate – with myself, too. It’s a lot to practice…

A deep breathe. A lovely flower.

We become what we practice. I’ll have to face the woman in the mirror at the end of the day. I hope to choose my practices wisely.

Practices… perspective… mindfulness… balance… It’s a lot to keep up on, if I take them one by one. Thankfully, they’re sort of ‘bundled’ together in one practice-filled mindfulness package. 🙂

I balance my bee sting allergy with my fascination for bees by keeping my bee sting kit handy, and using great care.

Balance is important enough to practice. I thought about it, metaphorically, while I worked on balancing literally during my workout, this morning. One portion of my workout is entirely about balance, and when I began it, some of it seemed pretty silly… “stand on one leg”. Huh. Okay, sure. Easy! Oh… not so easy these days. Hmm. I begin again. Again. And again. I wobble. I sway. I keep at it. I practice. Seems easy. I guess, in most practical regards, it actually is quite easy. It’s the doing it well reliably bit that complicates things… and then… well… I’ve been on this new workout routine for…a week? About a week. A bit more maybe. It’s feeling really good, in the sense that my muscles tell me each day that there is change. Then, yesterday, I was able to put some real miles on my boots with much more comfort. Bad posture and pain had begun really holding me back… By the time I got home, feeling refreshed, strong, and exhilarated, I was also feeling my left knee ache. (Damn it!) This morning, I got up and felt it as soon as I took a step. I reached for my hiking staff before I even made coffee – looks like I’ll be walking with support for a few days. Balance… definitely not ‘easy’. Definitely takes practice.

Perspective matters, too; it’s easy to focus on how much my knee aches… or how unpleasant I find dealing with the VA…

There’s more to it than this moment! I consider my needs over time; how do I best take care of myself long-term?

We become what we practice. Incremental change takes time. Building new skills – or restoring old ones – requires both. A good measure of patience with myself, and some perspective on the challenges, will probably be useful, too. 🙂

Practicing patience, self-soothing, and learning balance has unexpected delights.

Tags a few deep breaths, balance, be love, be the change, compassion, consideration, listening deeply, meditation, mindfulness matters, patience, perspective, practice, practicing the practices, The Big 5, trust the process, we become what we practice, what are you perfecting?

Categories Anxiety, Brain Injury, health, Healthy Living, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5, War and News of War, women, Words

I Walked a Mile…

June 25, 2016 //

…To escape myself, and I walked another mile to be alone with my thoughts, and I walked a mile after that to achieve a goal. Along the way I discovered, again, that my baggage goes with me on every journey I take, that my thoughts have no substance that I don’t give them myself, and that goals are chosen – often rather randomly (and sometimes achieving them fails to satisfy). 🙂

The thought of a goal, of a destination, is no more real than any other thought.

I was excited to read that there is now a public transportation option to reach Multnomah Falls – how cool is that?! I was also fairly earnestly needing some time away in the trees… The opportunity seemed a good fit, and I took it.

The map is not the world. The fantasy is not the reality.

It was a crowded trip over on a shuttle bus just filled to bursting with corporate douchebags on vacation. What is it that makes people just keep talking louder in a noisy place, thereby increasing the volume and density of the wall of noise? What makes videos on cell phones more interesting than beautiful mountain scenery? What makes a firm, over-confident, absolutely-no-risk-of-error tone of voice so often associated with colossal bores and aggravating asshats? lol By the time the shuttle pulled into the parking lot, I knew a great deal more about many of my traveling companions than I cared to, and was already bored with the movies some of them are purportedly making. lol (And, for what’s it’s worth, Dude, although I didn’t say so in-real-time, it’s really just not actually any of your business what her career choices are, or what they are ‘about’, and I sure wish you could have stopped yourself dissecting them because I’m pretty sure the woman you were insulting ‘behind her back’ was the one sitting close enough to hear you, based on her silent, visibly evident fury as you spoke.) Have I bitched enough about the shuttle ride? I could also take a moment to mention how awesomely convenient it was, and how pleasant and skilled the drivers were. 🙂

Hey, Everyone – look at this! lol

I’d forgotten that the ‘real’ reason I rarely travel to these trails is less about distance or convenience, and more about crowding. As with any popular landmark or location, Multnomah Falls is crowded. Really crowded. In spite of the rain that poured continuously from the moment the shuttle pulled away, this water fall is so popular that dense crowds line even the narrow rocky trail beyond the first walk-up view-point, and the bridge above it, too. Even at the top of the falls, a slippery, rainy, steep mile high or so, the crowds were…crowding. It was a first-rate opportunity to see how well (or poorly) our society works together… some parents gently/firmly cautioning their kids to stay on the trail (as also directed by signage), others completely disregarding their feral offspring darting here and there between moving adults, on and off the trails, over and around barriers, walking the tops of walls, running, jumping, shouting… Yeah, I didn’t find it a particularly pleasant hike. I struggled to find balance, peace, stillness – the trees themselves seemed impatient with the noise. And it rained. It rained hard enough, continuously enough, that not only did I need the rain gear I inevitably stuff into my pack, but also hard enough that my camera wasn’t very useful.

In spite of aggravation all around, there is still beauty.

I found myself relying heavily on practices for managing stress. Finding any quiet spot was a challenge.

There is time for beauty – I only have to take the time I need to enjoy it.

With the rain falling, it was difficult to make the best use of my camera, and I found that to be one actually okay thing about the day’s hike; I was there every moment. 🙂

So many people looking at the same thing, taking the same pictures…

By far the best pictures from yesterday’s hike were all the many pictures I simply couldn’t take because of the rain; they are the memories of the moments, and the day, and at least for now they are as clear and sharp as any photograph. “Wow” sights that would be difficult to photograph (for me)… bits of jovial conversation among strangers on a rainy crowded trail… the smell of wildflowers… laughter… and a couple good miles toward my fitness goals, all worth experiencing, no camera required.

I headed home much sooner than I might have, had the location been quiet, comfortable, and less (much less) crowded. The shuttle back was quieter; most people riding it clearly were not the sort to spend many miles on their feet, and there was a lot of napping going on. I enjoyed the quiet, and the scenery.

One last picture…my favorite of the day, taken by mistake while I fussed with the camera to take a different picture altogether – that didn’t turn out. There’s a metaphor in there, somewhere. 🙂

The rain continued to fall… until I stepped off the light rail, close to home.

It was an unsatisfying hike, as hikes go. It was a peculiar day, spent crowded together with strangers – when I had been seeking solitude and peace. How very strange to make the choices I did. I sip my coffee and consider it further; it seems clear I could have anticipated all the details that were uncomfortable, and could easily have chosen differently. What was I thinking? It’s not a matter of discontent – and I’m not actually ‘bitching’, more… curious. It was an interesting adventure – and I realize as I consider the day in the context of living life that it has more value that I thought to give it, initially; I now know how easily I can reach those more distant gorge trails – and that’s pretty sweet. Just beyond the crowds? The wilderness. 🙂

Eventually, steps add up to miles, miles add up to distance, and distance traveled eventually becomes a lifetime of experience. I still have to take all the steps, do the verbs, practice the practices… and some days it rains. 🙂

Tags emotional self sufficiency, meditation, mindfulness, perspective, practicing the practices, ptsd, taking care of me, TBI, The Art of Being, The Big 5, the map is not the world, there are verbs involved, walk a mile in my shoes, walking my own path, what matters most?

Categories Anxiety, Brain Injury, Free Will, Metaphors, Mindfulness, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5, Uncategorized

Just Let It Go

June 24, 2016 //

It’s morning. I’ve already gotten sucked into reading the news and found myself being baited into reacting to this or that with, of course, outrage. The media stokes the reactive side of our nature, because in reactions are ratings – and consumer spending. It’s that simple. I let it go, again.

I found myself baited into outrage via Facebook a short time later. I let it go. Again. It’s too early to tilt at windmills. I haven’t even finished my first cup of coffee. I pull myself free, and make a point to sign off. It’s a good day for a digital detox. I’ve no desire to let my devices dictate my day, or my experience. 🙂

Well, sure. This.

Twice more I find myself pulled into emotional reactions that aren’t really anything to do with me, directly; I am reacting to the outrage machinery on which the media relies so heavily. I let it go. Again. And then again. I sign out of more stuff. I sip my coffee and redirect my attention to my own experience, right now – this one, here – and take note of a couple things I’d like to get done today, for me. It’s a short list, and I smile at it, wondering if today might be the sort of day that nothing on the list gets done… I’ve no interest in being pinged on by the world, frankly, and our messy tedious ongoing social issues are commonly of a sort that are willfully chosen, inflicted on all by a few, and entirely easily resolvable – if we chose to do so as a body politic. That seems unlikely to happen today. Perhaps instead of fussing over all that, I simple get started with the weekend…maybe head to the trees for the day, and put some miles on my hiking boots?

I take some minutes to consider forest trails…

Date night was called off last night, due to my traveling partner potentially being contagious; his Other is sick. I definitely don’t want to get sick while I am likely to do interviews. It made sense to change our plans. I enjoyed a quiet evening, and got a good night’s rest. Both are experiences I enjoy. I miss my traveling partner. I smile thinking of him, looking forward to the next time we’re together.

Where will life’s journey take me?

Yesterday I was in a lot of pain. Today less so. The reduction in pain makes everything seem easier. Yesterday I couldn’t bend low to empty the dishwasher. Small things. I feel eager to hit the trail, this morning and realize that I’ve made my decision about the day, without being aware that I had; I’m already distracted from writing, from making my list, from drinking my coffee – even distracted from the outrage engine working tirelessly to get my attention on The Next Terrible Thing. I’m plotting my journey, staring intently at a map unfolded in my lap… keyboard, blog post, world…all but forgotten.

It’s a good day to walk on.

I think today I’ll head for the trees. 🙂

Tags a body in motion, are you going my way?, begin again, choose, head for the trees, just say no, meditation, mindfulness matters, no thanks I've read 'news' before, practicing the practices, staying on the path, the choice is mine, the choice is yours, the outrage machine, the weekend starts here, walk on, walk with me, walking meditation

Categories Brain Injury, Free Will, health, Healthy Living, Mindfulness, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being, weight loss secrets, Words

Practical Adulting

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Lovely Morning, Dreadful Coffee

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Easy and Hard

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I Walked a Mile…

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Just Let It Go

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