Archives for category: Sleepless Nights
« Older Entries
Newer Entries »

Let Go of FOMO

November 29, 2025 //
0

Seriously. Let go of FOMO. Fear of missing out drives some pretty crappy decision-making. Remember the instant craze for those Stanley drink cups, when they came out in colors? Yeah. I’m glad I passed on that foolishness. Why? Um… Simple…

Who really “won” in this FOMO craze?

Those cups are everywhere now. Most likely that was always the goal for Stanley – a product becoming a huge fad and selling well. Right? Profit. The fuss drove so much interest these things are now readily available at most big box retailers and discount chains. If you spent more than retail pricing on the reseller market when this product was a big deal, you overpaid.

Tis the season to do a bit of gift shopping, for many of us. Want your dollar to go further? Don’t waste your time on FOMO. Want your dollar to mean more? Spend it locally, on locally produced and manufactured goods. Buy imported items from retailers you know are committed to fair trade practices and supply chains free of human trafficking and child labor. Avoid goods produced in dictatorships, or by prison labor. Small details like that can really matter. Make this gift giving holiday one characterized by thoughtful consideration, and careful selection, and not quantity. Or don’t. It’s your celebration and I’m not telling you what to do, just offering suggestions. Just maybe be mindful that “Black Friday deals” aren’t actually about you, the consumer. They are about business, and selling more product.  Those big box and chain retailers don’t care one bit about you, the consumer, beyond the limits of your bank account, and they’d happily take all you have and give you nothing, if that were feasible.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. My good mood yesterday morning was thrashed within minutes of returning home from my walk. I didn’t want to vex my Traveling Partner with my irritability, so I grabbed my purse, turned myself around, and headed into the retail chaos of Black Friday.

I don’t generally shop on Black Friday, seeing it as a retail cash grab more than anything else (and I loathe the crowds), and often the things I want to give as gifts are not the sort of things that are most often discounted. Specific books. Specialty tools. Handcrafted goods. Locally produced specialty products (around here that could be wine, various farm-produced goods for kitchen or home, olive oil, spirits, blown glass, chocolates, or charcuterie). Something to keep in mind is that artisans and craftspeople often sell their work at the lowest price they can afford to, already, just trying to compete with low cost mass produced goods. So… Do you want to gift people dear to you with a lot of cheap poor quality items for a festive morning of unboxing followed by a bit of gracious depression when the reality of worth sets in? Maybe gifting a small number of carefully selected gifts that will be enjoyed for some time to come sounds more appealing? It’s your call, and I’m not criticizing or even suggesting these are the only options. (And I’ll admit that one gift high on my wishlist this year is cheap colorful fuzzy spa socks of the sort commonly found in dime stores and grocery stores; they’re my favorite for lounging around the house or sleeping. 😆) The unicorn we’re all hunting is “more for less”, I suppose. Enjoy the hunt!

I didn’t actually buy anything on Black Friday, aside from a non-holiday (also not discounted) tool item for my Partner’s shop. I didn’t even grocery shop. I just wandered around a couple of very holiday forward retail spaces, a little bored and very irritable. “Holiday blues”, maybe, or “the down” the day after having taken more pain medication than is routine for me, in order to push through the work of bringing the Thanksgiving holiday to the table; it matters less why I was irritable, than how I dealt with it, and whether I was successful at managing it. The day ended well.

Daybreak comes.

Today is a new day. I’m sitting at my halfway point on my morning trail walk, contemplating yesterday’s failures and successes, and making room for gratitude and joy. I’ll get some grocery shopping done on my way home, and spend the day decorating the Giftmas tree. There are already carols in my head, and I caught myself singing “Joy to the World” as I drove to the trail this morning. I notice, again, the dearth of secular holiday carols. It is a chilly autumn morning, clear and still, no rain, no wind, and the clouds are breaking up as they slowly move across the sky.

A woman, a moment, a sunrise.

I sit listening to the traffic on the highway on the other side of the seasonal marsh trail. I can see hints of the sunrise developing, through the trees. My tinnitus is loud, but I pay it no attention. Eventually, I may forget about it for awhile. The twisted oak branches, bare of leaves, make an interesting silhouette against the sky. I look for shapes and faces in the tangled branches, for fun. As daylight improves the visibility, I see a small brown bird seated on this fence rail, at the other end, paying me no attention at all, feathers fluffed for warmth, head tucked in a bit, eyes closed. Sleeping? I stifle my laughter, but still manage to shake the fence rail, disturbing my wee neighbor, who wakes, shakes her feathers, and flies off. I see the shapes of other little birds, sitting in the tree branches. (Sit still long enough, watching, and you will surely see some things!)

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I consider the day ahead. This moment here? Quite enough precisely as it is. I think of my Traveling Partner sleeping at home. I know he was up during the night, for some while. I hope his “second sleep” gives him the rest he needs. I’ve no need to rush home from my walk, and silently commit to giving him time to sleep undisturbed. Far from being any sort of hardship, doing so also serves my own needs; I enjoy the solitude in the morning.

I sigh to myself. My hands are becoming stiff in the cold. I finish my writing and get ready to begin again. It’s a brand new day.

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories 2024 Election, Allegories, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, joy, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, The Art of Being, The Big 5

The Secret to Better Sleep

November 23, 2025 //
0

Well…a secret to better sleep, anyway, there are others. Sleep hygiene is tricky. The modern world has a lot of distractions, and a single day sometimes seems too short to fit everything in it. Sleep difficulties can become sleep disorders over time, and there are many of those, each with their own characteristics and common causes.

Over a lifetime, I’ve experienced many sleep disturbances: nightmares, insomnia, sleep paralysis, night terrors, “exploding head” dreams, somnambulance, talking in my sleep, paradoxical insomnia, hypnagogia, apnea… That’s not an exhaustive list. I have a difficult relationship with sleep, and always have. These experiences aren’t limited to my adult lifetime, some have been characteristics of my sleep since early childhood. Some don’t trouble me anymore at all. Some linger as occasional occurrences. Here’s the thing, though, I mostly sleep pretty well, generally, these days. Yes, there’s actually “a trick to it”, one single small change that made a really big difference.

I’m not going to drown you in words making you wait for me to share this incredibly useful practical change that did so much to help me get better, healthier sleep. No subscription. No course to purchase. Also no promise offered nor guarantee being made, I just know this one detail has made all the difference (for me). I reset my expectations about sleep, and I stopped being stressed out and frustrated over not sleeping.

… That’s it.

Like a small town on along the highway, if you blinked you may have missed it. What was the change I made? No kidding, I changed my relationship with, and expectations of, sleep. That has been the thing that has done the most to improve my sleep. I still have occasional (sometimes frequent) sleep disturbances, but they rarely amount to a “disorder” these days, and they rarely last long or recur endlessly. See, it was the frustration, stress, and anxiety over not sleeping that resulted in the worst adverse effects of impaired sleep over time, not the impaired sleep itself. The emotional reaction to not sleeping restfully caused more problems than occasional failures to sleep ever could.

Seriously. It isn’t that noise keeping you awake, or the light, or the ticking of the clock, or that other person’s breathing. More often than not, it’s the stressed, frustrated, angry emotional response to not sleeping. The more vexed by our wakefulness we become, the worse our difficulty getting back to sleep. That’s been my experience, anyway. Take it for what it is; subjective experience, and a sample size of one.

I’m not saying changing one’s perspective on something as vexing as poor sleep is easy, or that it takes less practice than any other willful change. It takes practice, and commitment, and repetition, and I failed a lot and endured many annoying, sleepless, restless nights getting from “there, then” to here, now. It’s a huge improvement, though. The stress and frustration, anger, and despair over not sleeping was doing a lot more damage to my overall wellness and quality of life than my impaired sleep was, though. So…

Now, when I am wakeful, I turn on soft lighting unlikely to rouse me, and read awhile (taking care to choose reading material unlikely to cause excitement, itself), or get up briefly for a drink of water, and some meditation. Nightmares? I let myself wake in my familiar safe environment and soothe myself with a bit of meditation and return to sleep after my nightmares fade. I accept that I have some sleep challenges, and refrain from worsening those with aggressively anxious or frustrated rumination, obsessive blame-laying, or defeated self-talk. The acceptance itself is a useful tool. I’ve stopped trying to force my sleep pattern to comply with some notion of what sleep should look like, and I allow myself to sleep as suits me best. Does that “fix” my insomnia? No, but it doesn’t bother me when I wake during the night, or struggle to fall asleep. I just go with it. The result being that I am more likely to fall back to sleep fairly quickly – and on those occasions when I don’t, I’m not beginning my day in a negative emotional state on top of being tired.

I sit quietly at the trailhead, thinking my thoughts and grateful for the pretty good sleep I enjoyed last night. Did I sleep through the night? No. I rarely do, but I wasn’t awake long, and sleep returned relatively quickly. It took a long time for me to learn that the stress over poor sleep was doing more damage to my sleep than the poor sleep itself would do. It took even longer to really accept how true that was and do something useful with that information. Along the way, my sleep improved, quite a lot, because I also made a point to learn and practice good sleep hygiene, generally. All the many practices I practice intended to improve my emotional wellness and physical health have also helped improve my sleep.

I guess what I’m saying is that changing my response to poor sleep in the moment has done more to improve the quality of my sleep than any one other change.

I sit with that thought awhile. I’m happy to share it without monetary gain, and I hope you find it useful if you struggle with poor sleep. There are still verbs involved, and you’ll have to do the work of making a change on your own. I can’t really help with that. I hope you do though, and I hope you get the rest you need to be and become the person you most want to be. We’re all more pleasant and capable when we get the rest we need.

Another day, another chance to begin again.

Daybreak comes. It is a gray and wintry looking autumn morning. The oaks have lost most of their leaves. The surface of the marsh ponds is still and dark. The sky is a featureless wash of gray-blue. The path stretches ahead, disappearing around a bend. I breathe in the chilly autumn air; no scents of flowers now, only the autumn damp, and a hint of rain to come. I exhale, letting lingering background worries go with my exhalation, dissipating with the cloud of my breath. Lovely morning. A good morning to begin again.

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Allegories, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Sleepless Nights, The Art of Being, Words

Authentically Grateful

November 11, 2025 //
0

It’s Veterans Day, today. It is a mild morning in the Pacific Northwest, before sunrise. I’m at the trailhead, in no hurry, waiting for a bit of daylight before I start down the trail. The bridges in town and even the entrance road to this park and the trail that wraps around one side of the air museum property are marked with American flags. It is one way of honoring Veterans of the armed forces on this holiday. Today, I’ll hear a lot of performative expressions of appreciation for my service, and possibly some small number of sincerely felt expressions of real gratitude.

Have you put any thought into what you are thanking Veterans for? Saying “thank you for your service” is not a telling indicator that someone actually understands the sacrifices and changes such service demands. Mostly, it seems to me, people – civilians who have not served their country, I mean – don’t “get it”, at all. They simultaneously seem to elevate military service, and also seem to think that hollow performative thanks are sufficient to meet their obligation to care for and provide for those Veterans their nation has created, used, damaged, and cast aside. “Thank you” isn’t enough. Fund the VA. Ensure Veterans have access to the lifetime of healthcare they may need – at no cost to them, at all. These Veterans already did their part; they served. Make sure they have jobs. Homes. Resources. Relief from poverty. An opportunity to heal their moral and emotional injuries. All of this requires more than a perfunctory “thank you” delivered in passing on a single date on the calendar. You can’t easily know what Veterans go through, or what it takes to “put Humpty Dumpty together again”, but you can care, and you can vote.

Daybreak. Veterans Day 2025.

I get to my feet as daybreak reveals a new day, and start down the trail, alone with my thoughts.

This year it seems likely that, for various reasons, I’ll be hanging out with just one Veteran today, my Traveling Partner. He’s Navy. I’m Army. The differences in our service are less important than the similarities. He never chides me over my mixed feelings about my military service. He understands more than most people can. We’ve each had our own experience of military service. Veterans are not a hive mind, and we don’t all feel proudly patriotic about our military experience. Some come home grievously wounded,  physically, morally, and/or emotionally. We don’t all look back fondly on our service or our former comrades-at-arms. Some of us drag that baggage through a lifetime of struggle after we leave the military, never really healing, never really finding our way, never moving on from the damage done. (That’s more common than people probably realize.)

… Some never make it home at all…

I sigh quietly, sitting at a favorite halfway point. It’s been awhile since I’ve been here in daylight, watching the sun rise… or was that yesterday? 😆 I turn around for a look back, toward the rising sun. Pretty sunrise this morning. I don’t see much of it from this spot, but I see a bit of it between the trees that line the paved portion of the trail. Isn’t that representative of the limitations of our perspective, more generally, too? We see only a small portion of everything there is to see in some moment, and our understanding is limited – because our information is limited. Accepting uncertainty, practicing non-attachment, testing our assumptions, fact-checking what we’re told, and being open to new information are important skills for reasoning well, and thinking critically.

A metaphor in a colorful sunrise, and a moment of gratitude in which to enjoy it.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I meditate as the sun rises. I contemplate my good fortune and take a moment for gratitude. It’s been a long and sometimes difficult journey. I’ve been through some things. I’ve seen some things. I’m here, now, though, and I have better tools for dealing with the chaos and damage – even the lingering baggage of my military service is easier to lug around these days. (If you need help, get help! There are resources, and you can heal. You’ll have to do the verbs, but you are not alone.)

The VA hasn’t reliably done well by me, and I’m not inclined to sugarcoat that, but I’m also very much aware that it doesn’t get the funding it requires (and deserves), making it difficult to live up to the explicit commitment to provide care to Veterans. The solution isn’t privatization, so much as accepting the reality that doing the needful comes at a cost. Social safety nets like the Veterans Administration, and Social Security, and SNAP, shouldn’t be about profit, ever. They are about decency,  care, and a common good that should ideally matter more than profits. (My opinion.)

The VA has also done more, better, often, for me (and many other Veterans)than many civilian medical professionals ever could. It’s been sort of hit or miss, over the years, and mostly due to constraints and systemic failures due to partisan bullshit and inadequate funding. Still, I’m grateful. I’m okay, now, for most values of “okay”, and the VA has played a part in my journey.

… I’m glad Veterans Day is in the autumn, that just “feels right” to me somehow..

I sit thinking of old friends, battle buddies, and the many uniquely military experiences that are shared among Veterans that wouldn’t likely be understood by civilian friends and colleagues. Some are quirky and amusing. Some are dark, to the point of shared trauma. Some seem almost nonsensical out of context, others seem unbelievable. Some make great anecdotes, others can’t be shared even in whispers, except among those who know, and know better than to discuss it freely. Sometimes I miss active duty service… mostly I don’t.

The colorful sunrise becomes an ordinary looking autumn morning. I’ve got a couple of errands to run. Sooner or later, someone well-meaning will thank me for my service. I’ll thank them for their appreciation, without making it “a thing”. Then I’ll begin again. Good enough.

…If you really do care about “supporting our troops” and caring for our Veterans, please also vote for representatives who will actually fund the VA, and social security, and SNAP, because I promise you – our Veterans and active duty service members use those services and need them.

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories 2024 Election, Allegories, anger, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, Free Will, gratitude, grief, health, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, The Art of Being, War and News of War, Words

Too Early, Too Much

October 20, 2025 //
0

I woke around 03:00, to some noise most likely, or perhaps my Traveling Partner’s wakefulness, though when I returned to bed from the bathroom, he seemed to be snoring softly, asleep. I hope he gets the rest he needs. I sure didn’t, not last night. Took me some time to fall asleep, and I was awakened abruptly at some point by raised voices. I returned to sleep shortly after waking, but my dreams were restless, irritated, and unsettling. I was tired when I finally woke, too early, but I couldn’t find sleep again, and gave up – hopefully before my restlessness woke everyone else.

…I got up, dressed, and slipped away quietly…

I don’t much feel like walking, this morning. Aches and pains and bullshit, nothing of real consequence. I sit with my thoughts, perched on a picnic table near the trail, ready to walk if I get past my moody and irritable moment of ennui. I listen to the background noise of machinery, traffic, HVAC systems on nearby buildings… the sounds of humanity mismanaging a planet. There is a glow along the western horizon, the clouds overhead being illuminated by the city below. Pretty mundane stuff. I sigh quietly. My ankle aches, even within the comfortable security of my hiking boots. My left hip hurts in a way that suggests arthritis may be developing there. My head aches, feels mostly like fatigue and the studious, focused, effort to maintain top down control in spite of it. I catch myself gritting my teeth, and purposefully relax my jaw and let go of that bit of stress. My tinnitus is shrieking and whining in my ears. I’m not bitching about any of it, just noticing each detail, as I inventory my sensations and experience the moment with as much presence and awareness as I can.

… And I still don’t feel like walking…

I had an excellent brunch with a colleague on Sunday. Feels like, potentially, a real friendship forming. Maybe. Harder to be sure than it might have seemed when I was younger…or… before the pandemic, although I’m not at all sure how that is relevant. I really enjoyed the conversation. The food was good, too, but that clearly wasn’t the nourishment I was seeking – or what I found. It was more about the human connection. We talked about doing it every month, and talked about having some kind of holiday get together with our families, in December. That might be a lot of fun.

I sit enjoying the morning quiet. I think about love and my Traveling Partner, and how much faster his recovery is going these days. He’s able to do so much more now, and more every week. It’s a relief to feel some measure of day-to-day work being reduced as my beloved begins to resume tasks that he was handling routinely before his injury. Out of habit, I sometimes forget to give him the opportunity to do for himself. I’ve got to knock that shit off, for myself as much as for him.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I meditate in the chilly autumn darkness before dawn comes. For a moment, the world seems peculiarly peaceful and undisturbed. I find that it often does in these solitary moments. The world’s chaos and hardship is almost entirely created by the human primates clinging to the surface of this mud ball hurtling through space. I almost sympathize with the “burn it all down and start over” cynics and nihilists. I was once among them, a like-minded sort, but it seems like a wasteful approach to problems that could be solved quite differently, and with a greater good in mind. Another distracting argument keeping us all preoccupied while billionaire grifters empty our bank accounts in exchange for empty promises.

…I sigh and let that go, too…

There is still no hint of daybreak, yet. The clock is ticking, though, and this moment is finite. I get to my feet with an impatient sigh, feeling more resigned than purposeful. I commit to dragging myself along the trail again this morning. I’ll feel better once I’ve gotten a walk in, I know. I just don’t happen to “feel like it”, but I also decide not to let that stop me.

…Fuck, I really want a nap. 😂 Instead, I begin again.

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Allegories, anhedonia, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, health, Healthy Living, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, The Art of Being, War and News of War, Words

Sirens and Rain

October 19, 2025 //
0

It is the wee hours, before 02:00, but after midnight. I’ll get back to sleep shortly. Noisy neighbors, rudely partying outside, in a rainstorm, well into the “quiet hours” indicated by the local noise ordinance. To be sure, a Saturday night, and they don’t do this often, but…they’re sure as hell doing it tonight, loudly. Fucking hell. We’re generally pretty chill about such things, but it’s too much, and quite unreasonable. I go out on the deck and ask them to keep it down. My Traveling Partner, still vexed by continuing noise some minutes later, finally has enough, and yells out the window, audibly angry.

… The noise finally dies down, some 15-20 minutes after we said something. I commit to bringing it up tomorrow, directly. Boundaries, people, consideration. Damn.

I hear my Traveling Partner turn in, again, in the other room. I prepare to do the same. The rain continues. Somewhere in the distance I hear a siren. Tomorrow is soon enough to begin again…

I went back to bed, and slept soundly and deeply, and woke later than usual by more than an hour. I dressed and managed to slip away quietly, without banging, clanging, sneezing, or dropping something to the floor with a crash. Win. Due to the time of year, and the dense storm clouds, it was still dark when I got on the highway, headed for this morning’s trail. The drive on a Sunday morning is reliably pleasant, no traffic.

I reach the trail at daybreak, boots already on because my casual wear soft slip-on shoes – an Allbirds knock-off – gave up on life a few days ago. I haven’t replaced them (yet?). The storm clouds overhead are beginning to break up along the eastern horizon, but it is also sprinkling. I chuckle to myself, thinking it might be nice if the weather would make up its mind, although I’m not actually bothered at all, I simply put on my rain poncho.

Actually, as I walked along contentedly to my halfway point, I noticed that nothing much is bothering me, presently, which is a nice change. I’ve been struggling a bit with my PTSD as the world seems to go crazy in a daft orgy of authoritarian cruelty and ignorant douche-baggery. I do my best to manage my symptoms when they flare up. It’s a lot of work, but I have better tools these days, and a more resilient, healthy partnership with a human being who loves me enough to give a shit about my mental health. I am emotionally supported, and more.

Yesterday was, as it turned out, the kind of day built on love and consideration, and my Traveling Partner and I moved through the challenges created by my bullshit with love and gracious good nature, generally. The evening ended with loving intimacy, and I felt profoundly cared for and nurtured, and thoroughly loved. I hope he did too. I sit on the fence rail swinging my feet like a kid, grinning to myself happily. Today has the added fun of brunch with a colleague who is local to me, and who is becoming more a friend than purely a professional associate. More reasons to smile, brunch and friendship.

My thoughts wander to my beloved Traveling Partner and his progress with healing and regaining more and more of his capabilities. G’damn I am so impressed and proud of him. He works at his physical recovery with dedication and diligence. He continues to make progress, and as he does, he continues to begin to do more and more of the day-to-day practical stuff he once took care of. Slowly the weight of the added workload that had fallen to me is being lifted, along with the stress that came of being unable to do all of everything every day. It’s not “about me”, though – I’m grateful to see him really doing better. I can’t describe my feeling of gratitude – and relief.

And it’s not raining! Small wins count, too.

I sit gazing out over the marsh, or the oaks that dot the hillside, listening to the wind blow, watching the trees bend to it, and observing the ripples that stretch across the pond (lake?) nearest to me. Migratory birds float on the water in small groups. Out in the marshy meadow I see a dot of color, as daylight comes. A tent? There is no camping permitted here, but this is a federal asset, and with the government shutdown, the gates are open 24 hours, and there are now two cars that seem permanently parked in the parking lot, one appears abandoned, the other, lived in. I feel annoyed by the cars, the tent, and the stupid shortsighted partisanship of our government.

I sigh and let that bullshit go; it’ll be there to consider some other time, and there is no reason to sacrifice my merry morning to it. I breathe, exhale, and relax, taking my time with meditation, so still and relaxed that a chipmunk climbs the fence to get closer with her curiosity, creeping up near to me, as I sit. I don’t have any of the sort of treats in my pocket that might interest a chipmunk… and anyway, common wisdom is that it is a bad idea to handfeed wildlife, or to take steps that could interfere with their natural routines. With that in mind, I just sit, still and quiet, enjoying her hesitant proximity. Delightful! An enormous Great Blue Heron flies past, low to the ground, heading to the water, startling the chipmunk. She darts away.

I think about brunch, and wonder whether it will go as planned? My new friend and I are both comfortable with change, and share very realistic expectations of such things. Either of us could cancel without causing hurt feelings, and we both deal with chronic conditions that make it likely that we might choose to, any time we plan something. lol I’m very much looking forward to brunch, but prepared to pivot to other things, should plans need to change.

I breathe the rain-fresh marsh air, deeply. It’s a lovely morning in spite of the rainy weather. The sprinkle begins to become something more like rain, and I’m grateful for my rain poncho. I get to my feet, ready to begin again.

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories 2024 Election, Allegories, anger, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, joy, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, The Art of Being, War and News of War, Words
« Older Entries
Newer Entries »