Archives for category: Practices
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Beginnings

July 12, 2024 //
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Yesterday had a pace and intensity I don’t generally prefer, but a lot got done, and what got done is behind me now. Some details in our living spaces are being refreshed and updated, partially triggered by the arrival of the Anxious Adventurer, but some of it simply completion of long-planned projects that had been delayed too long (life happens).

The dark somewhat monolithic secretary that has sometimes been a computer desk, sometimes a “mini office in a box”, and sometimes a cabinet to hold stray things is finally out. All the way out. It has served its time and I am grateful for all of that, but it didn’t really fit the aesthetic of any room it stood in. Glad to see it replaced with beautiful natural birch bookcases, into which the books have been unpacked. We had planned for this for four years. Overdue.

A finished project.

Other things got done, bathroom cabinets added, and things moved out of the way ahead of changes to come. It was a labor intensive day for everyone, each of us doing our best at maximum capacity. By the end of the day we were all exhausted, but also feeling quite satisfied with the outcomes.

Growth works that way, too. It’s sometimes necessary to dig deep, do more in a moment than we think we can, and push through the things holding us back. It’s often necessary to discard things that don’t work and begin doing something quite different. Growth can be incredibly uncomfortable, in spite of satisfying outcomes. It’s quite a bit of actual work and there are no guarantees of immediate success.

Another perspective on growth.

…It can be so hard to let go of things to which we have become attached over time…

Reassuringly, I find, incremental change over time is generally “the way”, and we definitely become what we practice. (What are you practicing? Will it get you where you want to go?)

… Let go of what does not work…

It is pleasantly cool on the trail this morning. I feel lighthearted and at ease. It’s Friday. It’s payday. The heat has substantially abated. Almost all of the work involved in getting the Anxious Adventurer moved in and settled has been done, now. He’s here. He’s unpacked. Now things can truly begin to settle into a new normal.

… There are still a handful of details, but my to-do list no longer scrolls for several seconds. Progress.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s a lovely morning to begin again.

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

A New Normal

July 11, 2024 //
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Life is beginning to develop a “new normal”. Change is, and it won’t be argued with. We adapt. Shift gears. Adjust routines. Change our habits. Resisting change, generally, is fairly pointless (especially if we chose it). How we cope with it says a lot about who we are.

My Traveling Partner and the Anxious Adventurer seem to be enjoying the new arrangement generally speaking. I’m okay with it, too. It’s pretty nice having some help while my partner is injured. I can now see a time on the horizon of my future when I won’t be chronically exhausted and on the edge of hitting some emotional or physical limitation that shuts me down and reduces my capacity to be helpful. It’s encouraging.

Having still less time to myself and less space of my own to retreat into takes getting used to. This is offset, though, by how much better things can be for my Traveling Partner, how much more skillfully his needs can be met by the two of us splitting up the work of caregiving, and how this makes it so much easier (for me) to also focus on my partner romantically and emotionally (because I am not completely run down by physical labor). Caregiving is more difficult than it may appear to someone not involved in caregiving, themselves. I’ve certainly got a newfound depth of understanding about it, personally!

I sigh quietly to myself, sitting alone on a bench along the trail, watching the sun rise. Pretty morning. Maybe less hot than it has been? I’m grateful for these quiet solitary moments.

As often happens with me, changes in my environment (and living situation) have disrupted my sleep. I wake briefly at odd times, responding to a new noise, or turning over and somehow noticing my orientation in the room is different than it had been previously, or just different than I expect. Sometimes I actually wake, maybe sit up for a moment, or read for a little while. It’s fine. It’ll pass. Annoyingly, one of these new “wake points” is at 03:00, too close to my typical time to wake up such that I can’t easily get back to sleep. lol It’ll pass. Change is, and I do adapt.

Another work day. Soon the weekend. 16 days to my coastal getaway. It’s nice having that to look forward to. There’s quite a bit of work and change to manage between now and then, but… It’s fine. Truly fine. I feel pretty good this morning, in spite of arthritis and headache pain. Pleasant morning.

I find myself missing my Traveling Partner, though we’re separated only by a handful of miles and the few minutes of travel time from finishing my walk to returning home. Humans are strange creatures prone to attachment. lol

The sun continues to rise. It’s time to finish my walk and get on with the day. It’s a good time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being

Taking Steps

July 10, 2024 //
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I am taking steps, this morning, both literally and figuratively. In the literal sense, I am up early, before dawn, and on the trail. Steps. In the figurative sense I am putting a plan in motion to ease my persistent fatigue and get some better rest. I made reservations for a couple days away, at the end of July, to get some solitary restful time with my thoughts and my pastels. The former feels quite routine, the latter quite necessary, but I guess they both have all those qualities – they’re just different practices that I use to care for this fragile vessel.

Daybreak

… I’m so tired…

I walk on, enjoying the brief solitary interlude I’ve learned to count on each day. A few precious minutes with my thoughts, walking my own path, just… being. Most days, I can’t really expect even one additional solitary moment that isn’t spent in a bathroom, or driving (which rarely feels solitary). There’s nearly always someone around (at home, my Traveling Partner, and at work my colleagues), and in spite of human primates being “social creatures”, I struggle to get adequate solitude, as an individual. I sigh as I walk, thinking my solitary thoughts. Most days, these minutes and miles on the trail are enough to refuel me and keep me going. It’s enough.

…A couple days of creative time on the coast will be lovely, and I am already looking forward to it…

The sunrise softens to a pale sky of pastel hues, pink and pale yellow and a streak of baby blue. Pretty. It’ll be another very hot day today, though maybe just a bit cooler than yesterday’s 106°F.

The world finds me even here in the early morning alone on this trail. My Traveling Partner pings me. Tells me about his difficult night, the pain he is in, and how he’s doing so far this morning. I stop walking to reply and decide to write these few words. (I happened to be at a convenient spot to sit for a minute, so the timing fits.)

Sometimes it feels like there is no rest, really, no real solitude, no actual “downtime”… There’s a sensation, some days, that “someone always wants a piece of me”. I breathe, exhale, and relax. There’s no reason to push myself so hard. Boundaries can be set and reinforced. I can reclaim my time and attention for myself, for my own purposes. There are verbs involved, and my results vary. Success requires practice.

Later today, we move forward with some of the planned changes around the house, making room for one more human being. Yeah, even knowing myself as I do, I agreed to this shit. 😂 It’s fine. I’m for sure not sorry to see books on shelves in the living room instead of tucked away in a small bedroom being used as a library. I enjoy books and could happily cover every wall with bookshelves.

The sunrise continues to develop as the morning warms up. The colors have shifted to a more homogeneous shade of peach (or is it a pale salmon or coral?), with a smudge of lavender smeared along the horizon. My mind wanders as I sit with my thoughts. This is also…fine. I breathe, exhale, and relax. This mile won’t walk itself! I laugh quietly and watch little birds in the recently mown grass. It’s time to get going, finish this walk, and get on with the day.

… It’s time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, art and the artist, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being

Summer Heat

July 9, 2024 //
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This morning I woke early, watered the lawn before sunrise, and enjoyed coffee with my Traveling Partner. I left the house at more or less the usual time. Instead of an iced coffee, I picked up a bottle of water on my way to the trailhead, because I stupidly forgot to refill my water bottle. It’s going to be another hot day and I didn’t want to end up dehydrated walking the trail as the sun rises.

As I drove, the sun breached the horizon, a demonic angry red, seeming larger and more intense in the sky than on other mornings. It was such an astonishing sight that I grabbed my phone as I drove hoping to snap even one blurry picture – because that was some unbelievable shit right there! Wow. So huge in the sky and such a fierce relentless hue, it seemed as if disaster must surely be imminent. I failed to get a picture. I succeeded in not causing (or becoming victim of) a collision.

As I rounded a later curve in the road, I saw the sun, now fully above the horizon, still looking massively large in the sky, and only slightly less strange in color, a bold deep orange slowly rising in a hazy summer sky. It’s going to be another hot day for certain. I’m glad I took time to water the lawn and the garden.

Summer heat ahead. A strange mist clings to the low places.

I hit the trail and walked my miles. Returned to the car still thinking about that crazy sunrise. Climate change? Distant wildfires? Summer heat and haze?  I find myself wondering if I will ever see such a sunrise again…or will a day come when every sunrise seems to herald possible disaster or appear on the horizon as some sort of dreadful sign of worse to come? I hope not…? But what a sight!

…We may yet have a chance to avoid destroying our planet… We might want to do something with that, eh?

…It’s already past time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Summer, War and News of War

Enough Blame to Go Around

July 8, 2024 //
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I’m sipping an iced coffee, perched on a stretch of fence, watching the sun rise. Another hazy warm summer morning that foretells of heat to come. I’ll be in the chill of an air conditioned office for much of the day. Right now I am sitting outside, along the edge of this trail that wanders betwixt marsh and river, looking out across an expanse of meadow, breathing summer air scented by flowers and grasses. It’s a pleasant moment and my being here, now, is mostly due to my Traveling Partner’s need to get some sleep in early morning hours, and the resulting habit of mine that has developed over time; I walk in the early morning hours (avoiding making a bunch of noise knocking about the house while my Traveling Partner tries to sleep).

Another summer morning. Another sunrise.

I smile and breathe the summer scented air. It would not be an exaggeration to place the “blame” for a lot of my current living situation and quality of life on my Traveling Partner. When he and I began to become close, I was in a very different situation (professionally, financially, domestically, medically, and romantically), and from the beginning he questioned (often) why I was in that place instead of living quite differently (and better). He suggested I could do more/better with the resources I had, with my background and experience, and with available options that seemed so obvious to him. He encouraged me to choose differently. It was 2010. He nudged me into getting my first smartphone. It started with that small change, and with the change in my outlook on life that developed and began to deepen through that first year together. He really “backed me up” and encouraged me in a way no previous partner had.

…He has reliably encouraged me to be my best version of the woman I would most like to be that I possibly can…

How I live my life is in my hands. My choices are my own. I am responsible for the consequences of my actions and my words and deeds. (Good and bad.) But… I likely wouldn’t have made many of the choices I did, when I made them, or pursued the results I have gotten, without the love and encouragement, and day-to-day confidence in my abilities that my Traveling Partner has shown me. I playfully “blame him” for much of my experience of success in this latter portion of my life. I doubt I would be in this specific here and now without him. I’m grateful, both for his enduring love and friendship, and also to be here, now, living this life. However long this lasts, it’s pretty pleasant and generally comfortable, and I hope I never take it for granted.

… I’ve done the work to get here, but I wasn’t alone on this journey; it’s been a shared experience. We’re in this together…

The sound of distant traffic reminds me this is a work day. I could happily sit here with my coffee, listening to birdsong and breezes until the heat of the day made it uncomfortable, but there’s work to be done, and it’s part of maintaining this pleasant life I share with my Traveling Partner (and the Anxious Adventurer, for some while to come). I glance at the time, on my cute wrist watch, a gift from my partner earlier this year. I’ve got plenty of time to make my way back up the trail, and my coffee is gone…

… Seems like a good time to begin again…

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Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being, Words
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