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Breathe in the Moment

December 12, 2025 //
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I sip my morning pod coffee in this hotel room. It’s been a strange break from some things that have been vexing me and wearing me down. I say “strange” because it hasn’t been at all (physically) restful. Not in the slightest. The pace has been fast and could have felt stressful. It didn’t feel stressful because I got a real break from being worn down, exhausting my resilience, day after day. There’s something to learn there.

Still a luxury.

I reflect on that awhile, sipping my coffee. How do I more carefully protect my peace? Preserve my energy? Care for this fragile vessel? How do I more skillfully set boundaries without creating conflict? These are important questions worth answering with some measure of experience-informed wisdom… I hope I find some.

I haven’t taken many pictures. I haven’t done any sightseeing. I haven’t even taken any walks through beautiful places, although I’ve been on my feet and walking from here to there, often. I don’t feel any heartbreak over that. It’s just a detail. I’m grateful for the rest I’ve gotten, in spite of the pace. Here, in this “strange place”, I have slept well and deeply, and even slept in, once. I feel rested.

I’ve gotten to meet and get acquainted with some amazing people on this trip. It’s been worth it.

I’m eager to return home to my Traveling Partner. I check for messages after I turn my notifications on for the day. I am not so eager to return home to drama, emotional bullshit, or the interpersonal friction of cohabitation. Humans being human. It’s often (mostly) nothing to do with me. I sigh to myself and reflect. I have enjoyed the solitude. I’ll soon be home to love… and also laundry, housekeeping, cooking, running errands, helping with whatever, and trying my best to find any time for myself to enjoy some quiet time when I can sit with my own thoughts, or read, or paint. I miss my Traveling Partner so very much. I don’t miss caregiving or housekeeping, drama, or emotional labor.

I remind myself that having the Anxious Adventurer move in was always temporary, and as with all things temporary, it will end. We’ve all agreed that he’ll move after the holiday season, nearer to Spring, when the weather is predictably safe to drive through distant mountains and isolated highways, to wherever his chosen destination turns out to be. I’d love for him to be able to stay in the area, he seems to like it, and it’s clear my Traveling Partner enjoys having him nearby and seeing him often. The cohabitation doesn’t work comfortably. I don’t think I’m even surprised,  when I consider things more deeply. It hasn’t significantly improved over the 16 months he’s been here, even with coaching and encouragement (and sometimes raised voices and frustration). I sigh to myself. Communication can be difficult. Accommodating each other’s needs, limitations, and boundaries can be hard. I already know I don’t prefer cohabitation – it’s a lot of fucking work. I can’t force either man to change his approach to the other, to listen more deeply, to make changes in behavior, to be more considerate, kinder, quieter, or be anyone other than they are. (It’s not my place to do so; they’re both grown-ass men, who ideally already know who they are and where they need to improve themselves.) I can set boundaries, myself, and do my own best to be the woman I most want to be, and to be accountable for my decisions and my actions, that’s it. We’re each having our own experience. I’m not inclined to allow these father-son difficulties so far outside my own experience dominate my thoughts, time, or to-do list.

… I’m also not inclined to sit around seething over it, if I can simply stay out of the way and let them figure it out. That’s not always possible; sometimes I’m invited to help, or reframe or rephrase in some heated moment. I breathe, exhale, and relax. That time is not now. I’m alone in a quiet hotel room, and it’s almost breakfast time. I miss my beloved Traveling Partner – and I know what matters most (to me). So… I let it go, at least for now. I’ve got this moment here to live.

I look around the room… everything is packed. Breakfast next, then the office for a couple hours and a noontime departure to the airport. On the other end of hours of airports and flights, I’ve still got the drive home…more solitude. I’ll fill up on it while I can. Soon enough it’s back to the familiar routine, and time to begin again.

I settle into a comfortable position. I have time for meditation before breakfast…

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, autumn, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, The Art of Being, The Big 5, women, Words

In the Evening

December 11, 2025 //
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I’m unwinding after the office party. It is evening. I didn’t drink much (1 Sapphire and tonic, not as good as the ones my Traveling Partner occasionally makes for me), and I limited my calories and made healthy choices. I played ping pong with colleagues, and enjoyed some lively conversations. As company parties go, probably the only one I’ve really enjoyed. Ever. Making good choices was definitely part of that. The good company and the venue both also played a part. A pleasant evening out… that lasted too long.

… I’m tired…

… My feet ache, my head aches, and my tinnitus is almost deafening (noisy venue)…

S’ok. I’m fine, just tired. Tomorrow, immediately after the company All Hands, I will get into an Uber or taxi and head to the airport, homeward bound. I miss my Traveling Partner, and I’m ready to go home. Good trip, productive, although peculiar inasmuch as I simultaneously feel that I got a lot done, and also that I got nothing done. Pretty funny. Very strange.

I sit quietly after a hot shower, just relaxing and thinking my thoughts. I could watch a video…or the TV…or read a book… but I just sit quietly, listening to the heat click on and off keeping the temperature a comfortable 73 degrees F (22.7 C). Time passes. My mind idles. I’m not waiting on anything, and I don’t feel anxious or stressed. I’m just being. I breathe, exhale, and relax. Bedtime soon, meditation first. Begin again, tomorrow.

I yawn, and notice a broken nail. Inconsequential, unless it becomes a temptation to tear at my hands. I clip my nails short, and file them smooth. Better. I sigh to myself and turn the thermostat down a bit for comfortable sleep, and stretch. I put devices on chargers, and turn off lights. Sleep now…new beginning tomorrow. It’s enough.

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Categories Allegories, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being, women, Words

A Song in My Heart

December 11, 2025 //
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The soft beeping almost didn’t wake me this morning. I had forgotten to set an alarm, but that is rarely of any consequence, since I also rarely sleep past 04:30 or so. This morning the quiet beeping alarm that goes off at 06:00, my morning medication reminder, was what woke me. I slept in! I even “overslept”, if I want to call it that.

I smiled through my shower and while I dressed, half humming some merry tune. I feel good. Rested. It’s a nice feeling. I let myself feel it without resistance or argument, savoring the moment. I make myself a cup of pod coffee in the hotel room, and double check that I’ll be ready to join my colleagues at breakfast.

There’s a pretty long day ahead, although much of the afternoon and some of the evening will be the office holiday party. I wonder how well rested my colleagues will be? They continued the evening after dinner, heading to some local favorite for cocktails. I rarely drink, and wasn’t inclined to join them. It was around 19:00 when I got back to the room, as it was, and I was already too tired for much more.

City lights, a view from a taxi.

… But I’m not seeing much of SF! 😆 Sightseeing isn’t the point, though.

It’s a strange journey, this thing called “life”. Meeting some of my colleagues in person has been an experience of it’s own. There are some very smart, creative, kind people here, sharing this professional journey, and making their own ways in the world. I feel fortunate to meet them and be received and accepted as their equal. I’ve had some great conversations and many chances to practice listening. I even tried shawarma for the first time!

I tidy up the hotel room. Meditate. Take time to write a few words, and wonder how my Traveling Partner is doing this morning, and hoping he slept well and deeply.

Somehow it’s already time to begin again…

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, joy, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being, The Big 5, winter, Words

Perspective Shift

December 10, 2025 //
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I’m in an altogether different place this morning. I woke slowly, to the sound of an audible alarm. Strange enough (for me), and it jangled my nerves a bit; I was deeply asleep and had forgotten where I was (a hotel room in San Francisco).

I got up and dressed, fussing around in a most disorganized fashion, finally starting some coffee brewing before I left the room for a short walk in the morning air. Once around the block, and then back to the hotel room for coffee.

Each journey starts somewhere.

Yesterday was an interesting adventure in travel. Nothing really went “wrong”, it was simply unexpectedly tedious. The taxi from the airport to the hotel was fun; the driver was skillful and made interesting conversation (at half the price of an Uber, as it happens). He even pointed out various sights along the way. It was almost an hour, in heavy traffic. Yeesh. Big cities have familiar big city problems (Like needing an hour to go 17 miles).

Oh look! A sight to see.

By the time I was in the hotel room it was 5:30 pm. How was I “already” so tired? I mean, new city, and I’m in a hotel in a location with a lot to do (Fisherman’s Warf). My feet ached. I was tired. I slept poorly the night before and fatigue was clearly taking over. My Traveling Partner reminds me to eat something in a message, while we catch up and exchange pleasantries. I unpack and get my stuff rearranged such that my backpack is longer luggage, just a computer case. Handy. In the process I delight myself; I had carelessly put three little stuffed kittens onto my backpack “out of the way” while I was packing for the trip and didn’t realize they’d dropped down inside. There they were, soft friendly reminders of home, I chuckled happily and snapped a picture of them.

Small moments of joy are precious.

I spent the evening in silence, just sitting quietly for some little while, before admitting I was just done for the day. By 7 pm, I was asleep, waking only once and promptly returning to sleep. Now, it’s a new day, full of promise. The morning is quiet. I am alone. The only sounds are traffic beyond the window, and my tinnitus. This coffee is okay…pod coffee. It’s generally neither bad nor good, but completely acceptable and of reliable “sameness” every time. I find myself struggling for a moment to find the correct word for that idea. Consistency? So many useful words available to choose from!

A colleague who is also staying at this hotel pings me about breakfast. It’s already time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, joy, loneliness, Love, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being, Words

All This Rain

December 9, 2025 //
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Well, it’s definitely autumn in the Pacific Northwest. It’s raining steadily. I’m sitting at the trailhead, in the car, wondering if the rain will let up long enough to get a walk in this morning? It is beginning to seem unlikely. I sigh out loud and sit quietly, waiting.

…Later, I travel…

This morning, I deal with my anxiety, and I deal with a concerned email from my Traveling Partner. His own anxieties were keeping him awake during the night, and he tackled them directly, expressing his concerns with care and asking me for assurances and charges in behavior. His approach reflects our years together as partners. I read it over, a couple times, before I reply. Of all the things causing me stress right now, this email isn’t one of them. I value his candor.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I find myself vacillating between already missing my Traveling Partner (I’m not even gone yet), and hoping this trip away for work somehow also meets my need to get some real solitude, beyond a trail walk in the morning. It’s been a long time since I’ve managed to get a couple of days away to myself (and being home alone seems completely out of reach pretty chronically).

I have a peculiar sudden stabbing bit of anxiety, weirdly out of place in my experience – I find myself anxious over “what if I returned home and he was gone though?!” I have literally no reason to consider this fear a legitimate concern. No idea where it comes from. No doubt it is some remnant of old baggage or past trauma; I let it go. It isn’t real, and I definitely have enough real shit vexing me and stoking my anxiety.

The rain slows to a sprinkle. I’m looking forward to walking in the rain freshened air before spending hours on a plane. I pull on my poncho and grab my cane. It’s time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, Healthy Living, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, The Art of Being, The Big 5, Words
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