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Mask On – Mask Off

August 6, 2026 //
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Being cared for comes in a lot of forms. Yesterday, it came in the form of a 3M NIOSH half-mask respirator, on a morning so hazy with wildfire smoke I definitely should not have been out in it.

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

I returned home to begin my work day, and greeted my partner. He noticed my background stress level seemed high (and nothing going on to cause that) and asked me what was up, or suggested I take a breath, something – I don’t recall that part clearly, I only remember looking at him, trying to take a deep breath, and putting my hand to my chest and choking out something to do with how much my lungs seemed to hurt when I breathe. He looked alarmed and went into action. It was almost immediate; I had a mask in my hand, my Traveling Partner’s help with fitting it, and confirmation of the dangerous air quality. Putting the mask on, I felt almost immediate relief. I also felt very loved, and well-cared for.

…I wore that mask all day while I worked…

Being cared for takes a lot of forms. Some are obvious. Some less so. Some are life-saving measures. Some are conveniences. This morning, I enjoyed another moment of care; my beloved sent me a message for first thing, strictly cautioned me against going outside unless the AQI was better than 50, and provided me a wee guide to what my morning could look like (knowing my routine would be thrown off). He made me a list, and I checked it off with care: sleep in until 6, make coffee, put on jazz, make-up, and a smile, and start my day. He was quite right; it has made for a lovely beginning.

Today begins well. AQI is down to 90 – not ideal, but I don’t need the mask this morning to breathe comfortably. This cup of coffee is good. I did not rush through my wake-up or my make-up. I feel comfortable and unbothered. The work day is ahead, and in spite of following a wholly different routine this morning, the day feels very much on track to be quite a good one. I breathe, exhale, and relax. Feels good. No irritated eyes this morning. No raw scratchy throat. No pain when I inhale. Better.

I smile thinking of something I learned from my Traveling Partner, it’s not super relevant right at the moment, but the phrase is in my thoughts; “put your own oxygen mask on first”. Makes sense. If you don’t practice effective self-care, how do you preserve the capacity to help others? I was pretty stupid yesterday, going out for my walk without checking the AQI first, knowing the previous day had been hazy, and that we are more or less surrounded by wildfires right now. Smart would have been checking the AQI and staying home. Smarter still would have been thinking ahead the day prior, discussing the weather with my beloved, and establishing a plan, and maybe getting out that mask and having it ready when I needed it! Hopefully I learn from this. I had the knowledge. I had the tools. I failed on the verbs. Very human.

I sip my coffee and reflect on circumstances, before I begin again.

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

Adaptation

August 5, 2026 //
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This morning I do my walk, taking the loop around and heading back to the car. The air quality index is 139, unhealthy, due to wildfire smoke mostly. Worse than yesterday. I don’t really want to be out in it.

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

I walk with my thoughts before the sun rises. Cooler. The poor quality air seems to have somewhat less effect on my breathing, although still uncomfortable. I go through an entire pack of travel tissues before I complete the 1.5 mile loop. Still worth it to get out of the house awhile, before the heat of the day, and to give my Traveling Partner an opportunity to sleep, to wake, and to enjoy his coffee quietly.

My beloved delighted me with an unexpected gift yesterday evening – a handy bag for my RC car. So super cool. The best part is feeling seen and loved. I am eagerly looking forward to driving again, but this heat and the smoky air are keeping me mostly indoors. Maybe this weekend? There’s a nearby public track I’d love to check out, and maybe I will make the drive back to the hobby shop for… some reason. 😆

… I feel a bit as if I’ve found my way back to something that is part of who I am…

I’m grateful to have a partner who “gets me”, loves this person that I am, and encourages me to grow and be even more of the person I most want to be. This is a special relationship – not an “easy” one, but in the context of this romantic relationship (and really no other) I have grown so much! I think back to the woman I was in 1975, just barely on the edge of womanhood, reflecting on who I might become and what life could look like, then – I never imagined I could be here, now, living this life. A life characterized by contentment and love was so far beyond my understanding of what life could be, I hadn’t imagined such a thing. I was more focused on stuff, and money, and getting the fuck out of my parents’ home.

Smoked oaks.

I look at the trees along the trail. A smoky haze obscures the more distant horizon. The haze looks almost like a foggy morning, but for the hint of dirty brown to the color. I breathe, exhale, and relax.

The wildfire map, today.

As recently as 2016, wildfires were not yet a seasonal occurrence in this state. They definitely seem to be, now. It’s disappointing that we’ve managed to break our planet, and the people with the means (whether money or power) seem unwilling to do the needful to turn things around. I sigh to myself, wondering how much longer humanity actually has… The clock is ticking.

The sinus headache from the smoky air vexes me. There’s nothing much to be done about it; breathing smoke is unhealthy. Once I return home, I’ll definitely stay indoors as much as possible. I remind myself this too will pass. Fires will be extinguished. The wind will change direction. “Fire season” will end. The rain will return. Change is.

… In the meantime, I’ll adapt, and I’ll begin again.

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

Reflections

August 3, 2026 //
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The morning feels chilly on the trail as daybreak comes. The forecast says the day will be hot. My short sleeves manage to feel like a poor choice for the moment, right now.

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

The weekend was pretty amazing. Not easy, not comfortable, not entirely peaceful or joyful, but certainly heartfelt, deeply connected and meaningful. A necessary step on a long journey together, I suppose. Weirdly, I am missing my Traveling Partner intensely this morning, though he is no further away than home. Funny how subjective our emotions and perception of reality can be. We really are each having our own experience.

I’m thinking about one detail of the weekend that matters greatly to me. For context, many years ago, living in Germany, I bought an RC car kit. I was excited about it. It was a very detailed kit that required me to build it more or less entirely from a box of parts. When it was built it was amazing and ran beautifully! I was so excited. My then-husband helped me a bit with some of the electrical pieces I didn’t understand, but in general seemed not exactly uninterested, but watchful. Very little time passed before he stomped my car to pieces in a fit of rage. I only got to drive it once. Since then I haven’t considered RC cars as a hobby. I pushed the whole issue – car, enthusiasm, trauma, tears, and lingering baggage left behind – into a tiny box in a dark corner of my mind and memory, and marked it “do not open”.

… This weekend I opened the box…

More specifically, my Traveling Partner did, without planning to. It started some weeks ago with him buying me a drone and sharing time together learning and taking the TRUST test to safely and legally fly recreationally. It started with the first time I flew my drone – and realized quickly that I’m maybe not personally ideally suited for hobbies that include actual flight. (A combination of neck pain, poor eyesight, and cognitive limitations that make remembering all the many rules and restrictions difficult make flying difficult, nothing tragic.) I said something about having once had an RC car, and quickly realized my mistake; the box was open. I tried to close it up again, only to find myself standing in a big pile of stinking rotting baggage that had to be cleaned up at long last.

The way out is through. It was one more bit of trauma to work through. I like cars. I like driving. I like the fun and delight of miniatures. I like tinkering with small machines. My Traveling Partner gently forced the issue into the open. We talked. I gave up my drone with an emotionally difficult admission that my interest in flying a drone was more about loving him and sharing the time and fun with him. I admitted I prefer cars. He was encouraging and supportive and even pointing out that we could still enjoy that fun together; him flying, me driving.

I know there will still be reflections of past trauma to heal and old baggage to unpack… but I’ve taken a big step. I watched numerous videos with my beloved. We talked cars for hours and looked at videos. He likes cars, too, and has a love of, and affinity for, machines generally. So many choices. We looked at all kinds of RC cars in a variety of scales and styles. I found one car that really captivated me. Again and again, it turned up in moments of “ooh!”, “ah!”, and “wow!”. He talked about driving to the hobby store together and I was an eager yes. At some point he gently asked if I might find value in going alone, and independently making my choice and purchase, having settled on a budget (he has an astute sense of such things and reliably takes steps to support my autonomy and emotional wellness). I definitely knew which car I wanted. Calling the shop had confirmed they had one. I admitted I’d enjoy going by myself. He assured me he had work he needed to get done and kissed me sweetly, all love, before I left.

Zoom zoom.

… I have an RC car. I drove it that very evening after charging the batteries. She’s super cute and crazy fast (even on the lowest speed I was blown away by how fast she zips along). I stared a piece of profound emotional damage in the face and said, at long last, “you have no power over me”, and meant it. That’s a powerful step on this journey.

… and I even got the laundry done…

I smile as the sun rises, thinking about life, love, drones and RC cars. I think about beginnings. I think about the next time I get to drive – maybe after work today? I think about building a display diorama to park my car in when I’m not driving her. 😆 I breathe, exhale, and relax, grateful for this partnership and the beautiful weekend of deep connection and heartfelt conversations. I forget, momentarily, that it is Monday.

There was more to the weekend and to the work and changes that will come out of it, but this is representative of the character of the weekend generally. Loving partners working honestly through a variety of issues together in a meaningful loving way. Beautiful.

I sit smiling in the summer sunshine filled with gratitude, contentment, and love. It’s a nice beginning to a new week. August already? The clock is ticking. I get to my feet to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, grief, joy, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5, women, Words

Life is Defined by Decisions

August 2, 2026 //
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Walking with my thoughts at daybreak. I have a Benjamin Tod song stuck in my head. The refrain is direct and deeply meaningful for me.

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

Life is defined by decisions
You may burn bridges you ain’t got time to mend
You’re too old to be in this condition
You’re too young for the lord to take in

Real. Life is defined by our decisions, or at least shaped by them significantly. We are shaped by circumstances. Shaped by trauma. Shaped by our decisions. When I give it too much thought I begin to feel the mighty fist of fate squeezing and molding me with as little regard for me individually as a toddler with Play-Doh. Here I am.

Yesterday was “defined by” decisions, for sure. A lot of words come to mind, but I still have a lot to consider and process and put into future decisions. Verbs.

My beloved reads my writing (almost every day). One of the most delightful things about my Traveling Partner reading my writing is that I feel very “seen” – visible. Understood. When I make some point very well, he takes a moment to let me know and sometimes shares my writing. It’s something I appreciate.

One of the most uncomfortable things about my Traveling Partner reading my writing is that I am very visible; he sees where I am falling short on good self-care, and when I let some critical practice fall by the wayside. He points out hypocrisy. He calls me on my bullshit. When I’m struggling with something I’ve dealt with before, he observes the pattern and redirects my attention to some previous bit of writing with which I can support myself and get back on track. This too I appreciate – but it is uncomfortable as hell. I’m grateful. We don’t grow from comfortable experiences.

…If I were a better person, perhaps I would find a more gracious approach to accepting his support. I sigh to myself. I can be a resentful defensive asshole about feedback sometimes. I can do better. I’ll practice…

Our conversations yesterday were powerful, raw, deeply meaningful, heartfelt, frank, and vulnerable. I’m not going to call it a good time – but it was needed and I feel more deeply connected with my partner as a result. That’s good stuff. The discomfort doesn’t last. The feeling of connection can, if I feed it some verbs.

The sun lights the treetops, looking a bit like autumn.

The morning is cloudy. It feels like it may actually rain. After I finish my walk, it’s another day of laundry, and chores and housekeeping. My pain feels pretty well managed. I’ll work on keeping it that way.

… Life is defined by decisions…

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I’m still more questions than answers. Still a student of life, practicing practices, doing my best, and taking this journey without a map one step at a time. Incremental change over time really does add up, but it is a slow process, and we definitely can’t expect the promise of future progress to satisfy every circumstance. It is what it is (which is to say slow and uncomfortable, but worth the effort).

I smile thinking about enjoying a cup of coffee with my beloved before I set off for my walk this morning. Vulnerable is hard. Connected is supremely beautiful. These experiences are related; connection requires vulnerability. I am good at neither of these. I sigh to myself at the admission. Okay, now that I’ve said it, where does that leave me? Standing on the edge a beginning, I guess.

Summer meadow flowers

I sit watching a new day begin. It’s time isn’t it? We create a lot of our experience. Our lives are defined by our decisions. Choose wisely. Do the verbs. The clock is ticking. Fuck it all up? Well, shit, learn something and begin again. Learn what matters most. Decide who you most want to be. Do those verbs. Didn’t work out? Do something different. Incremental change over time will continue to shape and define you. It’s a process.

I sit awhile longer reflecting on the progress I’ve seen my partner make in the lifetime we’ve spent together. He’s certainly playing the game on advanced settings. We’ve traveled a long and difficult journey together. It is an adventure I hope to continue all of my mortal days (and whatever may be beyond them).

It’s time to begin. Again.

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5

Hazy Sky

July 31, 2026 //
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I walk with my thoughts. The sky is hazy from distant wildfires. The western United States burns (somewhere) every year now. I don’t recall that being a thing at all when I was a kid. I think about the likelihood that we’ve broken our planet, and whether there is any hope. Gloomy thoughts.

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

The weekend stretches ahead of me shrouded by a fog of uncertainty. I have no specific plans. I’d like to paint, but there’s quite a lot of housekeeping that wants doing. I feel tired, vexed, and generally annoyed with… Something. I don’t know. Probably biochemical bullshit,  nothing more. Feelings. Sand in my metaphorical oyster. Another work day and then… something else. I don’t know. I don’t even know what is bothering me or what might resolve it – but, hey, at least I’m aware that there’s something here I don’t know and which isn’t a certainty. That’s something, I guess.

… Embracing uncertainty is helpful, there is always uncertainty…

My back aches. I grief myself over “whining about it”, though I haven’t actually said words aloud. Well… Okay, there’s this, here, a handful of words. I remind myself that I chose this. I chose to live, not die. I chose the uncertain outcome of potential injury over the certain outcome of being stabbed and beaten to death in my apartment. My injuries were serious. Life changing. I am, however, quite alive. So far, I have even survived myself, and the ebb and flow of circumstances. So… there’s that.

I watch the haze on the western horizon become pearly pink, and developing a gradient fading into pale orange and then blue overhead. I sit at my halfway point – on this trail, and possibly in life (depending on genetics, lifestyle, and quality of medical care over time). I sift through my thoughts looking for fragments of optimism to stitch together into a properly good mood. I’m not finding much, but I keep looking.

“Emotion and Reason” 18″ x 24″ acrylic w/ceramic and glow details

One cannot rationally argue with emotions. They have their own purpose, and their own way. Arguing about how another person feels is completely pointless; people feel how they feel. What I do find, at least for me personally, is that it is possible to gently interrogate my emotions to determine what may be causing the feeling. This morning it seems rather likely that my mood is heavily influenced by the physical aftermath of a really heavy conversation with my Traveling Partner last night, and not really about this moment here at all. (Messed up chemistry from the strong emotions themselves, mostly, and dehydration from crying, feelings of uncertainty and sorrow that linger; human stuff.) So… self-care and self-reflection are on the menu today. (Shouldn’t they be part of every day?) I sigh to myself. Doing the work to build a healthy relationship is challenging, and more so perhaps between partners who both endure chronic pain, and both have PTSD. Worth the effort and the tears, it’s just hard sometimes.

…I think about what works, what doesn’t, and how annoying it is that it can be so difficult to be certain which is which…

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I reflect on this mortal life and the clock that never stops ticking. I think about what matters most. The sun rises on a new day, and new opportunities to be the woman I most want to be… and I think about beginnings.

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5, women, Words
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