Archives for category: Oregon Trails
« Older Entries
Newer Entries »

Unexceptional and That’s Fine

January 7, 2024 //
0

Another rainy weekend morning at the trailhead waiting for daybreak.

Rainy perspective on a moment.

There’s nothing extraordinary about this wintry rainy morning. I’m okay with that. Life is built on moments and most of those moments are utterly ordinary in every way. That’s not even a criticism, it’s fine. Perhaps better than fine, it’s sustainable and useful.

The rain spatters the car pretty ceaselessly. I’ll have a better idea whether I will be walking the trail once daybreak makes it visible, in the meantime I sit enjoying the sound of the rain and thinking my thoughts. I’ve grown to embrace this waiting time; it’s mine, for me, solitary and still.

I set aside my writing and take time for meditation. I breathe, exhale, relax, and let my thoughts pass as clouds on a breezy day, noticed but without doing anything with them. I settle into a feeling of profound contentment and love. The thought of my Traveling Partner and our shared journey fills my awareness. A sense of gratitude enriches the moment. Pleasant morning. I woke so gently this morning, and now here I sit, enjoying… now. It’s enough.

I sigh contentedly. Daybreak. I hear the clang of the park gate opening. I notice that the rain has stopped, at least for now… If the trail isn’t too flooded, it’ll be a lovely morning to walk it. It’s a lovely morning anyway. Time to begin again.

Tags , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Allegories, breathe, forgiveness, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Practices, solo hiking, The Art of Being, turning 60, winter

New Year, Another Change

January 6, 2024 //
1

I’m sitting at the trailhead, early on a Saturday morning before dawn, listening to the rain on the windows of my car. I watch the lights of passing cars on the nearby highway sweep over the soggy roadside and the marsh beyond. I am waiting for a break in the rain and for the gate to the park to open. I won’t have to wait much longer on the gate, it opens at daybreak.

I’m sipping an iced espresso, more ice than coffee, and thinking about yesterday. New job. Well… Same job, but as a full-time employee rather than a contractor. I’m smiling as I recall the moment, because my boss seemed every bit as excited to make the offer as I was to receive it, and said some pretty great things about the work I’ve done so far. It feels really good to get that kind of validation.

… I remind myself not to take the compliments personally, just as I would if I had been grievously insulted; they’re words. Opinions. Impressions in the moment. They provoke an emotional reaction, sure, but my own lived experience reminds me they guarantee nothing and provide no assurance of a particular outcome.

… Still… I’m pleased and excited. It’s a step I wanted to take and it puts me in a good place for the year ahead. I sit quietly with the feeling of eagerness and contentment for awhile, waiting for daybreak.

Daybreak comes. The park gate opens. The geese begin their day and I hear them honking at each other before I see them overhead. The rain just keeps coming down steadily. Too rainy to bring the camera out. I wait, still hopeful I might get a break in the rain sufficient to walk a couple miles along the soggy marsh trails. Maybe. Maybe not.

I sit wondering what to do with the day before remembering it’s time to take down all the holiday decor and put it away for another year. I’d almost forgotten all about it. lol My heart is still celebrating, I suppose. It’s not that there’s all that much joy available in the world right now, more that it is more urgent that we savor the joy there is.

I sip my coffee (honestly more ice water than coffee at this point) swirling it in the cup to hear the ice rattle. Life can change so quickly. I sit with my thoughts, my joys, my sorrows. I enjoy the pleasant stillness and solitude awhile. No agenda. No demands on my time or attention. Just this moment, the rain, and the sounds of the geese… It’s enough.

… Later, I’ll begin again.

Tags , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Practices, solo hiking, The Art of Being, turning 60, winter, Words

Turning the Page

December 31, 2023 //
0

I’m sitting at a favorite trailhead, listening to the quiet of these predawn moments, and waiting for daybreak to illuminate the trail enough to walk without a flashlight. It’s the last day of the year.

An occasional car passes as I wait for the sun.

This nature park is only open from dawn to dusk, but there’s also parking near the gate. I wait to hear the quiet “clang!” of the gate opening, which reliably occurs just at daybreak. There are a couple other “regulars” who turn up to walk or take pictures as early as I often do, but this morning it’s just me. I’m okay with that; I’m not here to make conversation. None of the early morning people are. lol

2023 is over. What a year. So many lives lost to conflict or genocide. Humanity can be so terribly disappointing. The amount of violence and trauma left behind by 2023 would be shocking if we weren’t all so numb. I sit quietly, in solemn reflection and acknowledgement; we’ve got to do better if we’re going to survive ourselves at all.

2024 is just about here… I think about the year behind me. The challenges. The successes. The failures. The unrecognized opportunities. The missteps and course corrections. Work. Life. Love. Change. I consider how fortunate I am to enjoy the relationship I have with my Traveling Partner. I reflect on my current job and how much I enjoy it… And how little my enjoyment of my work ultimately actually matters, inasmuch as it has very little correlation with my longevity in a given role, at all. I think about the books I’ve read this year and the books I hope to read in the year ahead. I think about how wretched and poisonous corporate greed is, and the way it taints just every-fucking-thing. I think about hearth and home, and how much difference love makes, day-to-day. I reflect on how fortunate I am to have this life and another year to live it.

One more walk in 2023.

It’s daybreak and I can see the trail. I take a moment to move the car past the gate into the parking lot.

I sigh. Finish my coffee and lace up my hiking boots. It’s time to begin again.

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Allegories, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, The Art of Being, War and News of War, winter

Waiting for the Sun

December 30, 2023 //
0

It’s early. Pre-dawn. I’m waiting for daybreak at a favorite nearby trailhead on a drizzly chilly-but-not-cold Winter morning, on a Saturday morning, a day before this year ends. I enjoy walking as a metaphor for forward progress, for momentum, and for pursuing a path. Good morning for it. It’s even seeming very likely that the rain may hold off long enough to get a proper walk in without returning home quite sodden and chilled, which is a nice bonus this morning. I’d be here, now, even if conditions were colder and wetter, but I am glad the weather is relatively mild.

I rub my eyes and sip the iced coffee I picked up as I headed up the road to this place. Good morning for that too; I’d hoped to sleep quite a bit later, and I am tired. So tired. I suppose I could nap in the car until the sun peaks over the horizon… but… I’d miss watching the sunrise. lol I do enjoy a sunrise. Another beautiful living metaphor, a sunrise speaks to me of change and renewal and new beginnings, and I enjoy each one I am so fortunate to see.

… Fuck… I could be sleeping right now, though… only I’m not. Nothing much to be done about that, however , so I make the best use I can of these precious minutes of mortal lifetime to do something nice for/with myself. That’s how I find myself here on this trailhead so many mornings, waiting for the sun. I’m okay with it. I’ve waited on the sunrise for far worse reasons in this life.

This iced coffee is very good. The barista did a great job pulling the shots for it. “Shaken espresso”, but without anything to flavor or sweeten it, and no milk or cream, just coffee and ice. On a colder morning this wouldn’t be an ideal choice, because I’d want to be able to warm my hands with the cup. lol This morning it’s 48°F, and an iced coffee seems fine. I sip it contentedly, as the waning moon overhead perks through the clouds and a gentle rain spatters the moon roof of the car intermittently.

It’s a good time for meditation and quiet contemplation of the year that is almost over. It’s a good time to reflect on what has worked and what hasn’t worked so well. It’s a good time to look ahead and wonder, question, dream, and plan. Later, the sun will rise, and it will be a good time to begin again.

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Allegories, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, The Art of Being, turning 60, War and News of War, winter

Quiet Night, Quiet Morning

December 23, 2023 //
0

I slept poorly. I mean, it could have been worse, and I am adequately rested, but I woke several times to imagined noises and vague discomfort. I was up, at one point, for more than an hour, trying to ease stuffy sinuses, the result of sleeping too long on one side, with my CPAP mask pressed too firmly against my nose. I eventually woke, and got up, to head out for my walk. It was before daybreak, and I was wrong about the time by more than an hour, although I had looked at the clock when I woke. (To be fair, I didn’t have my glasses on yet.)

I sit contentedly at the trailhead waiting for daybreak. Sunrise won’t be until almost 08:00. It’s a chilly drizzly morning, and I am bundled up for the weather. My tinnitus rings in my ears noisily. The sound of my breathing is soft and steady. There’s nothing going on to remark up on, and I am quite okay with that. I use the time to meditate.

… This imperfect world… This imperfect life… I sit quietly with my thoughts. The holiday weekend begins on the other side of the walk I will shortly take. What will I do with the day? Mundane things like laundry most likely; I’m a little behind. lol It’s like that this year. Slow and easy and uncomplicated because sometimes life is hard and I need a break. I’ll enjoy the holiday with gratitude this year, and keep it small, and filled with love. That’s enough.

Also? Fuck pain. lol Just saying. I could do without that complication. In spite of that, there’s quite a lot to celebrate. I smile thinking about my Traveling Partner, at home, still asleep. I breathe, exhale, relax. I notice a small bird nestled in the top of a hedge quite near me and realize daybreak has shifted to dawn. It’s time to begin again. I grab my cane from the passenger seat… This walk won’t take itself. 🙂

Tags , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Allegories, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Practices, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, The Art of Being, winter
« Older Entries
Newer Entries »