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Memento Mori

October 12, 2025 //
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I don’t really feel like walking this morning, but I’m here at the trailhead nonetheless. It is not yet dawn, and daybreak is almost an hour away. I would have slept in, but I woke to a noise, and it was quickly clear I would not be able to return to sleep, so I got up, dressed, and left the house.

On my way to the trail, I got an iced coffee.  Turns out to be one of the worst coffees I’ve ever had. It tastes bitter, stale, and over-roasted. It is thoroughly disappointing, but it is liquid, cold, and manages to serve it’s purpose in spite of its flaws. It’ll have to do. Coffee is expensive and I am not going to waste it.

So, I’m here. It’s early. I’m cross about not getting to sleep later. I remind myself to be grateful I’m at least getting an adequate amount of sleep, if not a restorative amount. By being flexible and adaptable, I’m doing my part to ensure my Traveling Partner gets the rest he needs to continue to recover from his injury. That’s an important detail, and I wouldn’t change it, and I don’t begrudge him the opportunities he has to get more rest. I know he needs it, and that matters to me. I’ve had sleep difficulties quite literally all my life, even sleepwalking and profound nightmares and insomnia as a toddler. My sleep these days is the best, by far, that it ever has been, other than during periods in my life when I lived alone (although even then, good sleep was unreliable at best). 

It doesn’t take me long to get over feeling annoyed. Certainly, it isn’t worth taking personally. G’damn this coffee is terrible, though. I still manage to feel some gratitude that I’ve got this cup of coffee at all. Grateful, too, for a partnership and abiding love that nurtures my spirit and enriches my life.

I sit quietly, reflecting on how brief this mortal life may be. We have a finite time in these mortal bodies. The moments are precious and too brief. There’s no time to waste on vexation and bullshit. It makes more sense to enjoy another sunrise from the trail than to fuss about being awake “too early”, doesn’t it? The clock is always ticking. The grains in life’s hourglass are steadily trickling away. Living life becomes cherished memory too quickly. It makes sense to be present, to be grateful, and to really live. Doesn’t it?

I sip my dreadful coffee. I meditate. I wait for the sun. I see the earliest hint of daybreak in subtle changes. The horizon hints at dawn. The clouds overhead seem more defined. A sense of the trail leading away from the parking lot begins to develop. Close enough, I guess. I put on my boots and get ready to begin again.

…

…

…

… halfway down the trail, it begins to rain…

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

While I Wait

October 11, 2025 //
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I’m waiting for the sun. I was up too early, and at the trailhead too soon.

My Traveling Partner woke minutes after I woke up to pee. Did I wake him? I don’t know. Doesn’t matter. He woke panicked, and struggling to breathe. That’s a dreadful way to wake up, and he was cross about it. I didn’t hold that against him, I get it, but not having a magic wand handy, my best option to be helpful to him in the moment was to get going and give him a chance to get back to sleep.

…So I did…

I could have tried to go back to sleep, myself, I guess, but his panic and frustrated snarling triggered my anxiety and getting back to sleep wasn’t going to be ideally easy. I was feeling pretty well-rested, already, anyway; no harm done.

Before daybreak, night settings on the camera reveal a cloudy sky.

I get a coffee on the way to the trailhead, arrive before dawn, and sit with my thoughts awhile. The coffee is good, and the cup warms my hands. I sit contentedly in the predawn quiet, thinking my thoughts, unconcerned about the chaos of the world in this moment, here, now.

Some little while after I meditate, my thoughts wander to my Traveling Partner’s enduring (and obvious) affection for me. I smile, thinking of the many little ways he shows his love. Most recently, this comes in the form of newly made 3D printed earrings, with Halloween themes. I am delighted by their variety and the fun of them. He knows me so well. He made “extras” so I can share them with friends who take similar joy in such things. I’ve planned my day around attaching findings and hooks to them; I’m eager to wear them. Eager to share them, and enjoy them in conversation.

… and so many more… I am fortunate to be so loved.

Eventually, daybreak comes. I wonder briefly at my (potentially erroneous) sense that a new day “always” comes… how true is that really? We are mortal creatures. Eventually our finite mortal minutes will run out. I sit wondering if the universe itself truly has its own similar limitations, such that one morning, the sun will not rise, again? It doesn’t feel like a grim weight on my spirit, it’s more just a question, of sorts. I can’t answer it. I don’t have enough knowledge to hold an informed opinion. It is a stray thought, like a cloud, drifting past, rather far away and abstract, and nothing to be bothered by.

There is enough daylight now to make out the trail. My coffee cup is empty. Seems like a good time to begin again. I lace up my boots and get ready to walk another mile. Yes, of course it’s a metaphor… but it’s also a favorite trail, a beautiful morning, and a nice way to begin a new day.

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

Cloudy, Rainy

October 10, 2025 //
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It rained during the night. The trail is wet, puddles frequent. The sky is dark and the clouds obscure the coming dawn. No moon to light my way this morning. I am dependent on my headlamp. Neither the darkness nor the occasional sprinkles of rain stop me, though. I have this path to walk.

I slept decently well, and woke feeling sufficiently rested to enjoy the day, in spite of my restless night. Some noise or other prevented me sleeping for some little while, and I woke during the night sometime later, though I never figured out why. Given the opportunity, I could maybe go right back to bed and sleep away the morning… although it’s probably wishful thinking, and anyway, it’s a work day.

This morning, my back aches fiercely. I remind myself it’s “only” arthritis pain – I’m rarely without it anymore, but it could be so much worse. I sit on this picnic table, rain poncho spread beneath me to make a dry place to sit. The night sky is beginning to lighten. My mind wanders to other autumn mornings, other points in my life. Other moments. I yawn, watching a mist begin to gather, here, close to the creek. I breathe, exhale, and relax, and take time for meditation as the mist becomes thicker, obscuring the “view” in the darkness.

I think about the new earrings my Traveling Partner made for me. I smile, feeling wrapped in love. He made enough for me to share with friends, of several kinds, and one cute pair of hearts, just for me. I feel visible and understood. I feel grateful, and appreciated. I definitely feel loved.

Love takes many forms.

I hear footsteps approaching slowly. A doe is walking down the trail towards me. She sees me, pauses, and veers off the trail in a different direction, heading into the trees and disappearing from view. The silhouettes of trees are now distinctly separate from the dark gray of the sky. Daybreak approaches, and I see the very first headlights of a farm worker arriving for work on the far side of the vineyard. The clock is ticking. It is a new day.

I yawn and sigh, sitting here in the quiet pleasant stillness before dawn on a Friday morning. It is enough simply to be…at least for now. lol This is a very human experience, filled with moments of all sorts. I get to my feet with an audible groan. Fuck this “aging” bullshit! 😆 I stretch and contemplate the day ahead. I could really use a cup of coffee… and it’s time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, autumn, breathe, Free Will, health, Healthy Living, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, The Art of Being

Change and The Inevitable

October 9, 2025 //
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The morning was clear and cold, as I left the house. The sky was flecked with stars and the waning moon peered down at me from above my quiet neighborhood. By the time I reached my halfway point on this morning’s walk, a dense mist was gathering, and I am now wrapped in fog. Change is.

I sit quietly with my thoughts. I meditate. I exist. The moment feels timeless and static, fixed in place, and unchanging. It is an illusion. Moments are brief. The mist gets thicker, as the clock ticks onward.

Can a picture truly capture a moment and hold it still?

I sigh to myself, filling my lungs with the cold morning air and exhaling, adding the mist of my breath to the morning fog. Nice moment, this. I could almost imagine that the world is at peace, that people feel safe in their communities, and that the world is a rational, ethical, nurturing place…

I haven’t looked at the news today. I don’t plan too, beyond what may be shared to me by my Traveling Partner, or in the course of the work day. Very little changes there, and between the atrocities of foreign genocides, global human rights abuses, and the horrors of American governance in the current administration, I have no stomach for it, and no need to see the same terrible news every day. It isn’t new at all. That, and then also the ads and the ever devolving quality of the writing, generally. Omg, AI “writers” are hilariously bad, and the prevalent errors and outright falsehoods are… unacceptable. So…no. Not this morning. I’ll just sit here, enjoying my peaceful morning, feeling safely wrapped in the mist.

I sit thinking about it being “Banned Books Week“. Good week to buy real books by human authors – particularly any of the many excellent books that piss off the government. It’s not healthy for our freedom to permit someone else to tell us what we can’t read. I’ve got a lovely long list of books I’d like to read… The holidays are coming. 😁

Daybreak comes gently. The fog seems to take on a hint of blue. My mind already feels “too busy” and my calendar “too full” – but it is an ordinary work day, and I’ve actually only got one errand to run. I slept well and deeply last night, but somehow already feel tired almost to the point of exhaustion. I find myself missing the company and laughter of old friends, and the wise counsel of my Dear Friend, and my Granny. We are mortal creatures. The clock is always ticking, and the grains of sand in the hourglass are finite

I breathe, exhale, and relax. Workers begin arriving to start their day in the vineyards alongside the trail. It was inevitable; it is time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, Healthy Living, inspiration, loneliness, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, The Art of Being, War and News of War

You Know What Though?

October 6, 2025 //
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It is evening. Just at the moment, I am finding myself in a very “why do I even bother?”, and also a very “you know what, just fuck all of this nonsense” kind of place. I know it will pass. I’m not in a good place in this moment, but change is, and moments don’t last. I’m rarely this coldly angry about anything, it’s not my way to let stuff get that bad without doing something about it, so when it does happen, I’m sometimes taken by surprise and not equipped to handle it. Not this moment. I saw potential for it in a change to my medication. Things have been okay for most values of okay, but I’ve been predictably moody, and a bit blue. I’m irritable and struggling to be kind or approachable. I’m also dealing with it, and I’ve done pretty well with that. I’m just right on the absolute edge of my last nerve.

It’ll pass.

I finish getting ready for bed. It’s not late, but I’d like to begin again, with a whole new day. I move things around and set up a cozy meditation space. I breathe, exhale, and relax… We become what we practice. My results vary. I guess I need more practice…no surprise there, really, that’s the whole point of viewing things through a lens of practical practices in the first place; it’s never finished work, and there is room to do better over time.

A full moon, a new day ahead.

I woke ahead of the alarm. Some noise, undefined, unrecognized, but enough to rouse me, pulled me from a sound restful sleep. I dress and head out and reach the trailhead early enough to see the full moon, a lovely pearl against the velvet of the night sky. I try to get a picture, but it’s a wasted effort. Even with a better camera, no picture I would take could equal the haunting beauty of the full moon on an autumn morning. I enjoy the sight while I lace up my boots and put on my headlamp.

… Yesterday’s moodiness seems to be behind me, now…

The work day ahead is… just a work day. My new normal. It’s fine. I’m prepared (although I did try to leave the house this morning without my laptop! 😆) I take a moment to appreciate that I didn’t actually forget it, or have to turn back for it in any significant way. I noticed just as I was leaving the house. Win. It’s a small thing, but still worth appreciating.

As I walk a fox darts across the trail ahead. I stop, astonished. I don’t recall that a fox would be any sort of threat, it’s just unusual to see one, here. It was definitely not a coyote or a dog. I walk on, to my halfway point and sit writing. Chilly morning. Beautiful moon. A new day, and another chance to be my best self. I failed on that endeavor yesterday, but not my worst, either. It was okay for most values of okay, and that’ll have to be enough. I can do better today.

I take time for meditation. I watch the moon setting slowly. I get ready to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, anger, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, health, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, The Art of Being, The Big 5, women, Words
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