Archives for category: Post Traumatic Stress
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What It Is, What It Isn’t

June 16, 2025 //
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The ringing in my ears is loud this morning. I pay it no particular attention; it’s reliably always there and the only thing to do about it is to focus on other things. My hot coffee. The chill of the morning at the edge of a meadow surrounded by forest. The distant sound of traffic on the highway, faint but still audible. Voices. I sigh and lace up my boots. A walk after coffee sounds delightful.

… I slept poorly but it hasn’t caught up with me yet…

Light in the darkness.

I woke several times during the night to pee. I guess I’m adequately hydrated. 😆 Each time I stepped out into the darkness, I paused to gaze at the stars a little while. I could see the Milky Way. I would return, following the short path between my campsite and the restroom, guided by the merry string of colored lights that I hung around my tent, specifically to make it easier to find in the dark. The night didn’t begin to feel cold until shortly before daybreak and I was pretty comfortable, just not sleeping restfully.

… The night felt long…

My walk warmed me up more than my morning coffee did. It’s been mostly uphill, and I wound my way through the trees, stepping carefully where the trail was not well-maintained. I reached my goal; the day use area. It took me longer to get here than I expected, but I wasn’t going for speed, only solitude. Walking to leave the sound of voices behind me, and in this instance quite successfully. There’s no one else here right now. It’s lovely and quiet (except for the tinnitus, which no one else hears).

A new day.

My head aches and I am thinking about more coffee, though I certainly had my usual amount (more than). I look over the park map. This trail? That one? What about this other one? It looks new, since my last visit here (which was 2022, I think). It’s probably early enough to find parking at one of the trailheads for the BVT… I yawn and stretch. It isn’t nap time, yet.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. What is my purpose, here? Meditation. Self-reflection. Setting intentions for this next year of living. This, right now, it isn’t really any if those things in a useful way. The miles of trails do seem to connect me with my sense of purpose. I look out at the horizon and wonder how many miles to those hills? The map suggests that those are in the Tillamook State Forest, and about 16 miles away (as the crow flies). It would be more than an hour to drive there, and about 12 to walk it, according to Maps. I think about how often the thing we seek seems so near, but really isn’t near at all. That’s a useful bit of perspective.

The sun comes out from behind morning clouds and warms me. I remind myself to put my phone on the charger when I get back to camp, as I eye the trail heading back down the hill. I think about heading back, and take another look at the map. Time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being, War and News of War, Words

What Do I Even Know About It?

June 13, 2025 //
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I’m sipping my coffee in that pleasant space between finishing the budgeting for this pay period and digging into the work of the day. There’s a cloudy sky beyond the window of the office, and the morning termperatures are cooler than they have been – of course; I’ve got a camping trip planned, so obviously the weather will turn chilly and possibly rainy. LOL

A moment of celebration, love, and delight; delicious, and worth savoring.

I smile every time I think about my birthday. What a lovely day, and in every regard thoroughly satisfying. Oh sure, more money/youthful energy/time perhaps it could have been more elaborate in some way, or involved other activities, but frankly the day’s simplicity and very high “chill factor” made for a completely delightful experience that met my needs. I feel loved and appreciated and celebrated. It’s a pleasant feeling, and I sit with the recollections, savoring them and sipping my coffee. 62, eh? So far, so good. I certainly feel more prepared to handle adult life and challenges than I did at 21. Or… 30, 40, 45, 50… I am, as they say, “a work in progress”. The profound value of incremental change over time is that it is a reliable path forward toward other (better?) things. I am more the woman I most want to be than I was in any prior year, and I keep making progress as a human being, learning and growing – and practicing.

I’ve learned some things over time, and I’ll share them (though I suspect we’ve all got to learn things our own way, and walk our own hard mile, regardless how much wisdom or knowledge may be available at our fingertips). I’ve learned that:

  • there is no rational justification for genocide, ever.
  • governments wage war because war is profitable.
  • human beings will persist in confusing anecdotes with data and can be easily mislead.
  • some people prefer to bitch about crap they could easily change rather than do the work to change it.
  • it is possible to find joy amidst chaos and tragedy.
  • change is, and although it can’t be prevented or avoided, it can be embraced and guided.
  • terrible hateful people walk among us, and they look like everyone else.
  • it’s very hard to be angry and grateful at the same time.
  • we can each choose our own path.
  • there’s always more work to do, and it is important to take breaks, and rest.
  • no one “makes it” on their own.
  • we can choose what we fill our thoughts with.
  • character and ethics matter, a lot.
  • if your only argument is name-calling or personal attacks, you have lost that argument (whether you accept that or not).
  • when “choosing sides” it is important to be clear about what the side you choose actually stands for.
  • critical thinking takes more work than most people are willing to do.
  • most of the things in life we stress out over aren’t actually worth that amount of emotional energy.
  • sometimes the “easiest” path requires the most work.
  • we become what we practice.

It’s not much. Certainly I’ve learned more, other, things – or – maybe I haven’t? Sometimes some lesson I thought I’d learned comes back to bite me because I had not truly put what I thought I learned into practice, reliably. Words are easy. Deeds…? That gets more complicated, doesn’t it? I feel my smile take a somewhat cynical twist, and sip my coffee. Life is a strange journey without a map, toward a destination we don’t necessarily choose with our eyes open (or recognize when we approach it). It’s a bit like seeing a funhouse mirror suddenly snap into a very clear focused reflection when I find myself very clear on some detail that had previously eluded me. My results often vary, and there are so many verbs involved…

The site I reserved for my upcoming camping trip, from the perspective of a moment in time 10 years ago.

It hits me in a moment what I really want out of my camping trip next week; time with my thoughts. I don’t really feel inspired to paint (yet), or even to take photographs (though I know I will). I want quiet solitary time with my thoughts, and a pen and some paper. lol Very low-tech, no fancy techniques, tools, or apps required; I want to walk trails, and watch clouds, and meditate. I want to breathe the Spring-becoming-Summer air, and take a closer look at the moss, the lichen, and the wildflowers. I want to sit quietly watching a braver than average small creature approaching me slowly with curiosity. I want to feel the weight of the world lifted from my shoulders because for a little while it will have nothing whatsoever to do with me. I want to “give my soul a rest” from the chaos of the world. I want to miss my Traveling Partner, because through missing him I discover again how deeply immersed in this love I really am. I want to unplug from the rest of the world and reconnect with my own deepest inner self. I sip my coffee and laugh to myself – seems clear enough. Now I’ve just got to do the verbs. lol

The clock ticks on. 62 now, and for the next 364 days to come. I hope I make good use of my time. I hope I live well and wisely, and love deeply. It’s time to get started on another year of living. It’s time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, art and the artist, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, joy, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Spring, Summer, The Art of Being, turning 60

Steps on a Path

June 11, 2025 //
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I’m thinking about the year that is ending today. My birthday is tomorrow. My birthday last year is barely an afterthought or footnote in my memory, and I have to look up photos by date and old writing to recapture of sense of that day. It wasn’t as important-seeming as the imminent arrival of the Anxious Adventurer, or my Traveling Partner’s scheduled surgery and day-to-day care needs. At the end of May, I’d gone camping for a few days. In July, I made a change from painting in acrylic to painting in pastels. June? June is largely missing from my recollection. I think I was mostly just glad to have survived another year.

Pictures tell a tale of living life along familiar pathways: walks on favorite trails, getting storage ready to accomodate the Anxious Adventurer, and time spent on watches and my Traveling Partner’s watchmaking tools, a coffee at a little cafe in the Pearl District. All of it felt like either a distraction from, or preparation for, my Traveling Partner’s surgery, scheduled for August. It was a weird time, and my birthday wasn’t really a particularly “big deal”, all things considered. I was definitely okay with things just being okay.

Strangely, the more I search my emails and photos for pictures to do with my actual birthday last year, the clearer it becomes that I don’t have any. lol I appear to have (perhaps) gotten a new phone around this time last year? Possibly a new watch, although it’s not clear quite when that happened – perhaps in May. lol The photo history on my phone just stops some days after my birthday, and there is nothing older there. The photos in my cloud storage skip the entire week of my birthday. lol I was clearly putting my mind and my time on other things. I sigh to myself and let it go. It’s barely even a minor aggravation, just a bit puzzling considering how commonly I snap a picture of this or that moment. The year, taken as a whole, was a busy rollercoaster ride of emotions and trying circumstances, but there were many joyful moments and things I recall quite fondly in a life well-lived, generally speaking. I’m okay with that. More than okay with it, I just lack the right words.

…In spite of the chaos in the world, and the train wreck that is American government presently, I am happy to be alive, and faced with another birthday…

…62 years…

For sure this journey has not been all cake and ice cream. I’d laugh, but frankly trauma isn’t all that funny. I’m glad I have survived all that I have, and have had so many opportunities to begin again, to do more better, and to walk this path toward becoming the person I most want to be. I’ve grown a lot. I’ve learned a lot. I’m proud of the woman in the mirror; she’s been through some shit, and she’s seen some things, and still she persists in walking her path. I’d be impressed, too, but… (and?) I do know how very human I actually am, and how hard I really have to work, and how often it isn’t quite enough. My results vary and I need more practice. That’s just real.

So… today is the last day of being 61. It wasn’t exactly a milestone year of any kind, but it was the year during which I had to learn caregiving for real (and omg do I ever suck at that – it’s very difficult), and I am pretty glad to see this particular year coming to an end. Recent months have been pretty splendid, and I’ve loved feeling my relationship with my Traveling Partner deepen and grow and become something quite wonderful, like falling in love all over again. It’s good seeing him making real progress toward regaining his skills and mobility, and freeing himself from being dependent on caregiving. I’m eager to discover what 62 holds for me – and for us, as a new year together begins.

I sip my coffee looking out at the blue summer sky. There was a fat luminous full moon hanging low over the horizon as I left the house this morning, but it is long gone now. It’s a new day, and it’s time to begin again.

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Categories art and the artist, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Spring, Summer, The Art of Being

Feels Like Summer

June 7, 2025 //
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There’s a heat warning for later this weekend, and today looks like it’ll be a hot day by afternoon. Here on the trail in the morning sunshine, the air smells sweetly of mown grasses and meadow flowers. A fence rail makes a convenient seat to stop awhile. I listen to the birds calling to each other and singing morning songs. It’s hard to separate the sound of distant traffic from the sound of the river, from this spot.  The golden hues of the sunlight remind me I have work to do in my garden this weekend. The inappropriately warm sweater I threw on reminds me I also need to do laundry.

A perspective on a summery morning.

My mind wanders to other summers, and recollections of summer mornings long past. I hear bees getting their day started, and instinctively check for my epi-pen, in my pocket. One more thing to grab each morning before I set off down the trail. I’m grateful to be so well prepared when I hit the trail, my backpack stocked with things I might need, and always right there in my car, ready for adventure.

… I send a silent “thank you” to my Traveling Partner, who suggested years ago that I just leave my backpack in my car, since I’m out on the trail so often and might need something in it. He was right, great practice that has served me well, from bee sting kit to snack bars, to hand soap, toilet tissue, and hair ties, rain gear, and clean dry socks. lol I’m prepared for most circumstances, most of the time…

I sit watching the sun rise, thinking about icy cold sweet tea on a screened in porch, and the sounds of insects buzzing, and the big floor fan blowing the humid air around without much effect. I recall wading in the warm muddy shallows of Weems Creek, chasing minnows and tadpoles, crabbing, or fishing for sunnies. Childhood memories untainted by trauma.  Summers were stifling hot, and summertime seemed timeless, made up of swimming lessons, weekend mornings in the garden, and long quiet afternoons reading books. Books were my readily available escape from the world, but I often find myself wishing I had been more fearlessly present in my experience at that time, and more easily able to recall it clearly, now. Funny how perspective and time change the value of past events.

Nozomi needs weeding. I remind myself to wear gloves.

I sit with my thoughts awhile longer. It’s nothing to be moody about, and I don’t tend to linger on regret; it serves little useful purpose. Besides, the sun is up, and the clock is ticking; there are experiences to have now, today, and memories to make in the garden that is my own. It’s time to begin again, already.

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

Steps and Practices

June 3, 2025 //
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Beginnings are pretty easy. I enjoy a beginning. Momentum can be difficult to sustain, though, and practices do need practicing. Failures are a thing human beings have to deal with. Beginnings come in handy as a way to follow-up on a failure. Just begin again. Ideally having learned from that failure, of course; it’s not super helpful to repeat the same failure and learn nothing from it. lol Steps on a path though; every beginning, every failure, every new attempt, each practice practiced takes us further on down the path we’ve chosen. Walk on.

Where does this path lead?

…I love a good metaphor…

The path isn’t always easy. It’s not always paved or level, it won’t always have convenient points at which to stop to catch your breath, it won’t always be illuminated, and sometimes – often – there’s no map to guide you. It’s a complicated journey in that sense, but in another very practical way it is as simple as taking another step. Incremental change over time is reliable, just slow. We do become what we practice – whatever we practice. 😀

I breathe, exhale, and relax. My walk was short today; there was a somewhat sketchy stranger on the trail, and I let my discomfort guide me back to the car a little early. Safety matters. The day stretches ahead of me, mostly unexamined and so far utterly routine. Just a day in a life. I’m okay with that. Working from home means taking my breaks in the garden, and I’m looking forward to it. First though? Coffee. Then? Then I’ll begin again. 😀

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, breathe, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, Healthy Living, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, Spring
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