Archives for category: Oregon Trails

For a long time I daydreamt of having a home of my own. I couldn’t call it planning, at all, because… I wasn’t. I was just daydreaming. The difference, I think, being that a daydream can be expansive, fanciful, and very nearly wholly unconstrained by any sense of reality or real-world limitations from a practical perspective, and planning… well, it isn’t that. A plan has to account for reality, legitimate limitations in resources, time, skills, and opportunity. A plan can be (must be) acted upon to produce the desired result. Acting upon a daydream may result in that dream becoming a plan, and potentially, at some point, that plan becoming something real – but a daydream, as a daydream, is just the mental equivalent of cotton candy. Sweet, but without substance.

Now I’ve got my own home. I got there by way of good fortune, good timing, the help and support of my Traveling Partner, and a plan. I’ll note that if I’d planned sooner, more skillfully, and in a more forward-looking fashion, as a much younger woman, the reliance on good fortune and good timing may have been reduced, and perhaps I’d have had my own home sooner…? That’s something I think about now and then, although I’m quite content with the home I have. Things worked out pretty well.

…I do enjoy daydreaming, though…

I daydream about camping (and hiking) all the time. Any moment of stress is likely to find me turning my thoughts to a distant trail, a remote campsite, the long drive to get to the quiet place, until my mind is eased and the stressful moment has passed. Daydreaming has a function. I daydream when I’m stuck on a problem. I daydream when I’m bored. I daydream to calm my mind, and to find inspiration. I daydream as I drift off to sleep, until my daydreams become the surreal circus of nighttime dreams.

…I’m also super into planning…

I’ve been daydreaming of Spring camping for weeks, since well-before the temperatures were warm enough for my idea of comfortable camping. I whiled away delightful minutes thinking about one camp ground or another, various trails I’d like to walk, doing some wildflower photography, quietly meditating among the trees, or on the beach, or in the high desert… or… somewhere. As April has progressed, warmer temperatures have returned (at least in our area), and I shifted gears from daydreaming to planning… and now I have a plan. I’ve got a location picked out. I’ve got a camp site selected (and reserved). I’ve got my Oregon State Park Special Access Pass renewed. I’ve identified some trails I’d like to hike. I’ve also identified some things that need doing before I go (like get an oil change, and get my brakes done). I’ve laid out a list of equipment I definitely want to take, that I’ll need to get out of winter storage and look over for damage. I’ve got a plan. 😀 Looks like I’m going camping in May! I’m excited about that, and feeling pretty prepared, even though all I’ve done is make a plan. There’s joy in the planning itself, most especially because it allows me to more realistically enjoy the anticipation, while also maximizing the successful outcome of the experience itself; I’m more prepared through planning.

…It helps not be too attached to the outcome…

Plans are only plans. The map is not the world. Plans may lead to great things, but along the way there will be missteps, inconveniences, and reality having its way with the outcome. Being too attached to how things really happen can result in a lot of unnecessary stress, and in practical terms a loss of enjoyment. No reason to do that. I make a point to also plan for things to go wrong. For the plan to break down. For alternate options to be something that will be needed. I’m planning hikes – but what if it rains? Would I be hiking the sandy muddy trails then? Maybe not. So I’ll also bring a book. lol It’s part of the fun of planning, for me; anticipating the things most likely to go “wrong”, and to be just as ready for those things as for the things I’m legit planning for.

So… I’ve got my camping trip planned. Now there’s some waiting time, then I’ll begin to execute the plan – beginning with staging my gear and making a point to replace things like band-aids and Benadryl, and making a point to put a fresh bee sting kit in my pack. Shopping for food items. Packing clothes and gear. I’ll be so excited by the time I load the car… and according to my plan, that’ll be about 24 hours before I hit the road, heading for a campsite I’ve already reserved – because I planned. 😀

A future destination. I’ve got a plan.

The sun is rising, shining beautiful hues of gold and brilliant white light into the office through these big windows. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I feel encouraged by recent developments in my life, and plans I’m making for camping in May. I feel “more well” than I have for awhile, and moment-to-moment, day-to-day, even my pain feels just a bit more managed – and manageable. It is “real”? I don’t know, but I enjoy the feeling in this moment as if it is. Why not? Savoring our small joys and moments of delight, pleasure, contentment, joy, and wonder fuel us for future moments that are perhaps less than ideal.

Taking a moment in the morning.

Minutes pass. I sip my coffee, contentedly. Pleasant morning. Looks like a pleasant day ahead. My tinnitus chimes, rings, hisses, and buzzes in my ear loud enough to obscure the sound of the ventilation. I sigh quietly; I can hear that, and it helps anchor me to the “hear and now”. 🙂

I think about the upcoming camping, eagerly planning details in my head, then replanning them, then considering new questions, other options, different details. This will continue until the weekend before I go, most likely. That’ll be when I pull my gear out of winter storage, and look it over for anything needing repair, or replacement. I’ll restock consumables, if necessary, and check things for “use by” dates that may have passed. I’m camping a Monday through Friday plan, and although I may not stay the full week, I’ll be ready to. I’ll pack up the car on Sunday, and leave early Monday morning after I wake, and maybe after coffee with my Traveling Partner (if he’s up, that’s a lovely way to start a day).

I glance at the clock. It’s already time to begin again…

Misty, chilly Spring morning and I have the trail to myself. Bliss. I walked with my uninterrupted thoughts, watching the sunrise. The park gate opened at 05:45, pleasantly early, enough light to walk the trail without a headlamp or flashlight. So little traffic on the nearby highway, all I hear are the sounds of nature and wildlife… and my tinnitus. lol I’m okay with it. Beautiful morning.

Health and fitness-wise, this morning is a small milestone; 3rd shot on Ozempic, first weigh-in (at home) since I started it. I even get to discontinue another medication, since I am tolerating the Ozempic well, I get to discontinue the beta blocker I am taking,  which also means getting back some energy,  being a bit less out of breath when I am walking, and losing the edema in my ankles that developed when I started the beta blocker. I am excited about that.

Will I be bummed if I haven’t yet lost any weight? Nope. My overall health and feeling of wellness is improving and that’s the actual point (and goal). More energy means more exercise, more easily, and the results over time are what matter. Increasing my activity level and skillfully managing my calories and nutrition will get me down the path. It’s not a sprint, it’s an endurance challenge. lol

The mist is still clinging to the marsh, as I return to the car. The Canada geese take flight in large flocks that fill the sky overhead. The golden sun shine begins to fill the sky with warmth and light, and I am smiling as I walk, thinking my thoughts and feeling pretty good.

The most recent updates about my Traveling Partner’s injury and recovery are somewhat reassuring and provide some hope and encouragement. I feel more comfortable planning to camp in May. I’m excited about the possibility of also feeling stronger and having more energy for it, too.

The weekend isn’t over. There’s more to do at home, and in the garden. It’s already time to begin again.

I got a great walk this morning, watching the sun rise as I walked. My allergies, which typically flared up only rarely but seem more likely to be seasonal these days, were bothering me from the moment I woke. I’ve been dealing with them since, taking OTC remedies and walking back to the car with the pockets of my hoodie filled with used tissues. I’m also in a ferocious amount of pain this morning, and having already taken a prescription pain reliever, on top of the allergy meds, I feel stuffy and a bit stupid. Didn’t stop me from getting a walk in, but likely slowed me down a bit.

…It’s 4/20… Saturday. Once upon a time this “counter culture holiday” would have had great meaning for me, and my day would have been planned around it. Not so much these days, though my Traveling Partner made a point to wish me well with a holiday greeting and I returned the merry sentiment. My plans just aren’t built around this anymore, and cannabis is legal here and it’s use quite commonplace. So… yeah. Happy 4/20, though. 😀

My plans today are mostly to do with tidying up the deck and draining, cleaning, and refilling the hot tub, and I am hoping to do it all in spite of the pain I’m in… I hope I can. I’d really like to be using the hot tub.

…It’s sort of peculiar, I think, that I don’t easily account for pain in my planning. I would benefit from being more skillful about that. I’ve learned not to over-commit when I do plan tasks and projects, but I seriously underestimate the limitations pain may place on my abilities. This may be a product of routinely trivializing my pain, to attempt to prevent it from “getting the upper hand” or defining my experience. It’s a real limitation though, at its worst, and the result is that failing to account for it realistically sometimes fucks with my planning (or more specifically, my execution of said planning). I sit with my thoughts for a few minutes…

…fuck pain…

I sigh to myself. Drink some water. Look over my grocery list. I guess it’s already time to begin again…

Chilly morning. It’s near freezing this morning. The local trail I chose for my walk is slick with frost in places, and the air is crisp and quiet. The sunrise is gold and orange, with hints of deeper shades of red.  I’ve taken today off and for now my time is my own.

The colors of a new day.

I walk and think, until my steps bring me back to the car. I’m in quite a lot of pain this morning, which is annoying, but I’m managing in spite of it, so far. The sudden cold snap causes my arthritis to flare up. Nothing much to do about that besides complain and take something for it. It could be worse, and I am grateful that it isn’t.

…Funny how the many pretty little flowers that adorn the meadows and the ground beneath the oaks along this trail would be weeds in my garden…

I sigh quietly to myself. This headache is vexing me. I’m hoping it will diminish once the pain medication I took for my arthritis kicks in. I’d mutter something to myself about how much aging sucks, but I’ve had the osteoarthritis since I was about 25, and this particular headache for going on a decade. I remind myself, again, that it could for sure be so much worse. I take a breath and let my vexatious notions go as I exhale and relax. New day, new moment, new chance to begin again, eh?

I sit with my thoughts awhile longer, reflecting on my good fortune to have a partner who cares about my wellness and is supportive and kind, and careful with my feelings. He’s been very open to supporting my decision-making and goal-setting as I start new medication and reflect on changes I need to make to my diet and fitness plan. He knows it isn’t easy and doesn’t cast me as a villain, blame me, or nag or criticize me. He listens and offers suggestions when I ask for help or for his insights. So different than what either of us saw modeled by our parents. It’s a relief and I am appreciative and grateful.

…Changes do need to be made, though. There are no shortcuts or magic pills. I have to do my part. “Eat less and exercise ” is trite and basic, and probably a bit oversimplified, but… it’s trite and basic because it’s pretty foundational and reliably true, generally. It’s just how the biochemistry of our metabolism works. So, I am back to logging meals for a while, while I recalibrate my awareness of my calorie consumption and improve on the nutritional quality of what I eat. I’m back to weekly weigh-ins, holding myself accountable and staying aware of progress and setbacks. I’m back to pushing myself a little harder every week on the trail and at home to do a little more, go a little further and sit still a little less. It’s a journey. Like so many of life’s journeys, I have to walk my own mile, and I am my own cartographer. No shortcuts.

…If you’re thinking that Ozempic and other medications that may aid weight-loss for some people are somehow “shortcuts”, at all,  I gently suggest reconsidering that as a thinking error. How is medication for a medical condition any sort of “shortcut”? (And if you’re only taking or considering one of these new drugs so you can drop a couple pounds to soothe your vanity, maybe think about how that may reduce the availability of these drugs for people who actually need them.?)

Meh. Do you. I’m not your mom nor your babysitter. Maybe just don’t be an asshole to people who have challenges you don’t personally share?

The sun is up. It’s shining in my eyes, golden and bright. It’s a new day, a new moment, and there’s so much further to go. I guess it’s time to begin again.