It’s early, still. I’m at the trailhead and ready to walk a couple more miles in these boots. Soon. I jot down some notes, details of my thoughts as I made the drive to this place. Notes to guide a conversation with the Anxious Adventurer a bit later today. Problematic assumptions may have been made, and these require clarification, and a clear resetting of expectations. Boundaries need to be clearly pointed out, and reinforced. Household rules and day-to-day “standard operating procedures” need to be clarified. We’re all in this together, but it’s frankly not a democracy (at all), and it’s important we all have a shared understanding of some basic details regarding housekeeping, basic manners, and the practical requirements that everyone “hold up their end” without nagging or dropping a fuck-ton of additional emotional labor on me (or on my Traveling Partner). So… I make some notes. I know what I’d like to communicate. I know I want to maintain a comfortable, considerate tone, and that I have a further obligation to myself to avoid undermining (or renegotiating) my firm boundaries.

I sigh quietly to myself. I catch a frown as it develops, when I wonder “how the hell did I get here?” – I’m childless by choice. I for sure did not anticipate being in a position of having to provide “parenting” to what appears to be a grown ass adult. Another sigh, and I hit the trail with my thoughts.

The morning air is still and warm, hinting at a hot day ahead. It’s so quiet, the sound of my footsteps and my tinnitus are the loudest sounds I hear. There’s a police siren in the distance. Sounds of traffic on the highway along the edge of this protected nature preserve. No breeze. Somewhat humid. The feel of the air seems “heavy”, and I am reminded of summer mornings growing up in Maryland. I get to my halfway point before the sunrise and sit down on the convenient bench to meditate, reflect, and write, as I watch the sun rise.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s a pleasant quiet morning. I savor the moment. There’s no reason to rush this; the moment is mine to enjoy.

I had an exceptional and excellent day with my Traveling Partner, yesterday. With his pain more skillfully managed (finally), and less chaos and stress generally, we comfortably relaxed in each other’s good company, talking and connecting, sharing, and really enjoying each other. It was a wonderful day enjoying the companionship of my best friend and lover, my Traveling Partner on life’s journey. We laughed and talked deeply and intimately. We shared the serious and the lighthearted. It was a great day, well-spent.

… Maybe today will be another like yesterday…

… Maybe it won’t be…

… What will I do with the opportunities ahead of me? What choices will I make? There are so many opportunities, so many choices. So much of my experience is within my own control…

I watch the lowland mist drift over the marsh as the sun rises into a shell-pink sky. I listen to birdsong. Beautiful morning. Beautiful moment. I sit smiling, feeling grateful for this sunrise (and so many others). I think about how far I’ve come as a person, and how much my Traveling Partner and I have grown, together. I think about the lessons I’ve learned over time, and what matters most (to me). I reflect on how best to communicate these ideas in words, and ponder what to share and what to keep for myself.

Self-reflection is a critical practice, for me. It comes with an interesting complication in the subtle distinction between reflection and rumination. Self-reflection is deeply informative and can guide my decision-making in a healthy way. I learn a lot through observation and self-reflection. Rumination, on the other hand, generally provides me with nothing productive, serving to reinforce thinking errors and “doom spirals”, and retraumatize myself with “ancient pain”, and internalized bullshit. Rumination masquerades as self-reflection, but doesn’t “do the work”, and doesn’t get me anywhere. I sit with that a while, and consider how best to communicate the distinction to someone struggling to find their own way.

Another critical practice for me is practicing a positive outlook, generally. I don’t mean faking positivity – that can quickly become toxic, in spite of the positive veneer. I mean to say I practice being authentically positive as much as I am able, and seek to minimize any tendency to bitch and complain “recreationally”, or for an effect, or for humor. Negativity is unpleasant, contagious, and corrosive in most social interactions. Time spent bitching about a challenge could be better spent on problem solving and action. I’m not a fan of forced smiles or inauthentic cheerfulness. I also don’t think the choices are “either/or”. I do my best to be positive, sincerely, and to be grateful, and aware that things could generally be far worse. It does take actual practice sometimes, although continued practice over time has truly changed my thinking and improved my overall outlook on life. Worth the effort.

I practice. I change. I begin again. It’s a journey, and the journey is the destination.

Choose your steps wisely. Select your practices with care. Keep practicing. Fail, and reflect, and learn, and begin again. Repeat as needed. We become what we practice. Who do you most want to be? What are you practicing? Will your current practices reliably get you to your goals? What needs to change – your practices, or your goals?

I sit a while with my thoughts. Pleasant morning for it. Soon enough it’ll be time to head back up the trail and return home to enjoy the day with my partner. Soon enough it will be time to begin again.