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Going Anyway

July 17, 2026 //
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Local news outlets reported that more than 8000 lightning strikes occurred yesterday in this region (Oregon/Washington) – in an area where proper thunderstorms used to be rather rare. Wild. (I think we broke our planet, y’all…) This morning the sky still looks stormy. Gray cottony clouds cover the sky, threatening rain.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

… I definitely need a little time away…

More stormy weather.

… and I’m for sure heading into the forested mountains of the Tillamook State Forest for the weekend. My car is already mostly packed. I think over the things I decided to pack, and the things I decided to leave behind. I nearly always bring way more than I need, and this time I’m trying to be less wasteful with my energy, and my resources.

I run through my mental list of things I’ve yet to pack. I’m nothing if not serious about making lists (and checking them twice 😆). I’ve got time and I’m not rushing. It is early morning and I’ve still got a work day ahead of me. I don’t plan to leave before about 13:00… but I do want to do a load of laundry…

I chuckle to myself as I sit trailside with my thoughts; I could have skipped my walk today. 😆 Why not? There will be more walking later, and there’s manual labor involved in setting up camp. It didn’t even occur to me to skip my walk this morning – how to tell when a practice has become a habit. 😁 I breathe, exhale, and relax. No colorful sunrise this morning, still a good time for meditation.

… I still need to pick out a book (or two) for this adventure, pack up my paint box, make sure to put my CPAP machine in the car, load the last few things into the car and double-check for missed essentials. I sigh to myself and reassure my busy eager mind that there’s plenty of time.

… but I’m counting the hours, and the clock is ticking…

I watch the cloudy sky doing cloudy sky things, and double-check the weather forecast. It’s fine. (Yesterday’s thunderstorm was not in the forecast, my brain “helpfully” reminds me.) I’m going anyway. My tent is waterproof (for many values of “waterproof”), and it has never failed to keep me dry.

I sit by this trail, comfortable and unbothered, grateful to be so easily able to just take a few days when I need them. Grateful for the partnership that is okay with my getaways. Grateful for the job that pays for the time off. Grateful to have adequate well-maintained gear. Grateful that I can drive an hour in anyway direction and feel “away”. I’m looking forward to a couple days of solitude.

I look at the time and get to my feet. Less than 8 hours until I’m in a forest, setting up camp somewhere utterly new for me. Exciting. It’s time to begin, again.

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

Thunder, Lightning, Everything Else

July 16, 2026 //
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I woke shortly before my alarm lit my room. (That became important later, because I forgot to shut it off.) I dressed quietly, grateful for clear sinuses and no sign of allergies. I left the house without making any obvious noise and stepped outside into…a thunderstorm. Huh. No kidding? Those used to be quite rare, here.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

I got to the trail and started walking. Watching the flashes of lightning. Listening to the thunder. Smelling the scent of petrichor. Feeling raindrops on my bare arms. Shit. I didn’t put on my lightweight hoodie or remember my rain poncho. I walk hoping it doesn’t rain harder, still enjoying the sensations of the morning.

A different beginning. A different day.

It didn’t last long. We often create the conflict we find ourselves dealing with. Our actions have consequences. My failure to turn off my alarm became a seriously crappy start to my Traveling Partner’s morning – and he let me know in very clear and specific terms.

… I’ll definitely be more careful about my fucking alarm in the future…

Stormy weather.

I’m grateful that the climate is quite good, even when the weather is bad, metaphorically speaking.

I made a plan, yesterday, to get away for a couple days. I’ll head out in the afternoon Friday, make the drive (grateful for the long summer days) to the location that I hope has an available site, and counting on disbursed camping if that campground is full. Everything reservable within a three hour drive is booked for this weekend, but this particular camping area is all first come/first served, so I’ve at least got a chance. My Traveling Partner suggested maybe a shorter getaway and booking a room might be the better option, but most of the affordable places are full (and everywhere is peak season pricing). So… Taking my chances on camping.

… I’m rarely out of cell phone range these days, but this trip will definitely take me beyond most signals. I wonder if that will be weird for us? It’s been a long time since we couldn’t just message each other whenever we like.

…I’m looking forward to the digital break…

Now it’s a couple of days and a bunch of preparation. I’ll shop for groceries and mostly finish loading the car today, and get my nails done (short). After work (short day) on Friday, I’ll pack up last minute items, kiss my beloved, and head out. Oh damn I am looking forward to the drive, maybe even more than the camping. 😆

…The weather seems good for it; I’ll bring my paint box and my easel…

I look at the morning sky, watching the lightning and chatting with my partner between sentences as I write. Soon enough it will be time to begin again. For now I’ll just enjoy the moment I’m in.

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, art and the artist, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5, Words

One Day of Many

July 9, 2026 //
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I have a splitting headache and my sleep was interrupted. I’m tired and cross, and feeling very much that I’d like to be left alone. I’m grateful for these few moments of solitude in the morning.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

I’m sitting at the edge of this trail wondering. I take a welcome sip of the coffee I carried down the trail with me. The morning feels chilly. It’s probably me, not the weather. The coffee is warm in my mouth and down my throat. I’m grateful for the moment of self-consideration that directed my groggy decision making this morning. Coffee sooner was a good choice this morning.

Tears fill my eyes and threaten to spill over. I brush them away angrily. “I don’t have time for this weak ass shit this morning,” I snarl to myself softly, “and fuck this headache, too.” My tinnitus is loud in my ears. I didn’t get enough restful sleep (haven’t for days) and my thought processes are slowed way down. My pain is poorly managed. I’m feeling very human and very fragile. My eyes sting from tears that finally begin to fall. Too much? Not enough? I feel broken and out of alignment. Out of step. Faltering on a path that has seemed certain and clear on other days.

… Moments pass…

I’m finding little reassurance in aphorisms and platitudes this morning. This morning I am uncomfortable with uncertainty and impermanence, and I feel myself clinging. Wanting certainty so much. Yeah… good luck with that shit. I take a deep breath in, and as I exhale I find myself weeping. Just fucking crying by the side of this trail, sitting in the summer sunshine on some random Thursday morning. Wondering.

…Is the sky still blue…?

I begin again. Breathe, exhale, relax. I shift gears. Meditation. Failure. Breathe. Repeat. The morning is not off to an ideal beginning. I’m struggling with my demons, and although for the moment I’ve got some sort of tearful stalemate, I still feel pretty shitty. My pain meds begin to kick in. So does the coffee. Eventually, I’ll “mask up” – put my work face on – and begin the work day. I don’t know, maybe the utterly disappointing ordinariness of it all will anchor me to here, now, and I’ll feel less hopeless.

… The clock is ticking…

The sunshine in the oak trees is beautiful. The air smells sweet. Songbirds sing merry songs. The tidy vineyard rows are a playground for so many little birds. I watch them flitting about, and try to identify as many as I recognize, but don’t put much effort into it. I am distracted and preoccupied. I keep letting this shit go. I breathe, exhale, and relax… and find myself back in the mire again and again.

I sigh out loud, frustrated with myself and the shitty start to the day. (And also? Fuck this headache.) I watch the dawn become day. Sooner or later, I’ve got to begin again… only I don’t know where this path leads, and I lack enthusiasm for walking it.

…

…

… This too will pass. Everything does. Change is.

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, loneliness, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being, War and News of War, women, Words

Dizzy

July 8, 2026 //
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The room spun when I woke. It was ahead of my alarm, but I had reset it when I went back to bed after spending awhile during the wee hours up with my Traveling Partner. I still managed to wake up by 05:00. I would have preferred to sleep longer.

… I laugh at myself softly; I had crashed out still dressed, having taken my boots off, and my hearing aids out. It didn’t take long to get up and get going with that kind of “head start”. 😆

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

Getting to walk the trail from beginning to end in full morning sunlight is a treat. I don’t rush, I savor it. I sort of have to; the mild vertigo I woke with persists. I’m glad I can rely on my cane for support. I proceed down the familiar path with caution, thinking about my Traveling Partner and hoping he got some rest. (Probably not; he pings me a good morning greeting as I walk, and it’s still pretty early.)

Headache, tinnitus, vertigo, arthritis pain… As I walk I take inventory and get a sense of my comfort and what kind of self-care and support I need to provide myself, today. Busy day ahead. I try to remember why… Right. An audit. I sigh to myself. A good night of rest would have been preferred, but being there for my partner still feels like the better choice. I keep walking, turning my attention to the morning sights and scents. There is a beautiful clear blue sky. The trees are decked out in deep green summer foliage. Meadow wildflowers encroach on tidy vineyard rows.

I get to my halfway point. I won’t stop as long this morning. I have less time. I’m not even bitching, just being aware of the time and my preferred timing. Up nearly two hours later than a typical morning, it doesn’t throw off my timing for the rest of the day much at all. I’m grateful for the reduction in potential stress that provides. Grateful that hang ups over time and timing no longer set off a panic attack if I am a few minutes late, or miss an alarm. That’s a lot more progress than one sentence can carry.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I make time for meditation. The vertigo? It will pass. The rest? I have tools to cope with most of that adequately well. It’s enough.

Coffee next. I sigh and stretch and look down the sunny trail. Time to begin. Again.

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Categories Allegories, anger, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, Love, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5, Words

Stumble

July 7, 2026 //
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It’s not quite 04:00. I’ve been awake since my Traveling Partner woke me around 02:10, unable to sleep, struggling to breathe. I don’t have any help to offer, and everything I say seems likely to start an argument. I dress and leave the house.

I sigh to myself, grateful to have a good therapist.

… My path feels uneven, and I’m walking in the dark…

There’s really nothing to do but keep walking. Stumble, fall, begin again. Incremental change over time adds up. I can count on that. Impermanence? That’s real, too. Change is. We are each having our own experience, too. What feels like a reasonable question to one, may feel very different to another. Practicing non-attachment feels hard, sometimes. Walls and mirrors, and humans being human.

… The real motherfucker is that I only have the power to change myself or my own choices, regardless whether useful or necessary changes could be made by another person – that’s on them and entirely out of my hands…

I get all up into my head in the wee hours, thinking about values, character, boundaries, acceptable behavior, relationships, choices… We walk the path we choose. We become what we practice – whatever we practice. I sigh to myself in the darkness. Almost an hour yet until daybreak. Maybe I can nap for little while? Later is soon enough for beginnings and choices.

… Until then, I’ve got this path to walk and a bunch of thinking to do.

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being, War and News of War, women, Words
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