Archives for category: solo hiking
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A Fence, A Crossroad, A Ledge

August 10, 2023 //
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I am sipping coffee and thinking over metaphors drawn from travels of various sorts. My Traveling Partner is preparing to embark on adventure with his son; a camping road trip. I’m eagerly staying behind on this one and enjoying some solo time at home – a first since before we bought the house we now live in. I’m quietly excited about it, although life is life, adulthood has requirements, and there’s shit to get done basically every day, all the time. Dishes. Laundry. Watering the lawn. Picking up the mail. All the routine details of an ordinary life simply are what they are. I’m even okay with that.

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That was around 07:00 this morning. It’s now almost 15:00. …3:00pm. Later. Hours later. The house is quiet. The morning passed quickly as my Traveling Partner and his son finished with last minute preparations and decision-making. Eventually, the time came and they hit the road, seeming quite eager to be on their way. I was eager, too. Eager for the quiet and solitude, even for a few hours.

…Funny thing… As soon as my partner was gone, I was missing him (at least a little bit), and checking the map for his location almost hourly. In between? I was mostly doing housekeeping. Tidying up here and there. Listening to my thoughts. Feeling the heat of the day develop outside through the sound of the air conditioning occasionally coming on, and that happening more frequently as the day progressed. I made a quick trip to the store, and wasn’t surprised to find myself reluctant to leave the peace and quiet of my home. It’s a pleasant environment that suits me well. I smile again each time I walk down the hallway, recently hung with paintings that had been selected for the purpose some time ago. My partner made a point of hanging them up quite recently. Days ago, now, and yet I’m still smiling every time I walk down the hallway. Seeing the paintings hung with such care and my partner’s studious eye for detail, I feel so loved. These paintings tell the story of my life [as an artist] and each one reminds me of something I thought I had forgotten, and does so with such regularity that I’m fairly certain I don’t at all forget these things. Weird, eh? It’s the sort of detail a human primate can really get hung up on, but which has very little importance, relevance, or substance. It’s just a detail. There are so many. 🙂

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I think about my Traveling Partner and pull up his most recent reported location on the map. It’s a cool spot to camp; we had scouted it last time we were camping up that way, and hoping to find a site just maybe a bit better than the one we had settled on for that trip (which was a bit too close to a cluster of managed sites, and thus rather… people-y). We spotted this other site a short drive down the forest road and down a very rough narrow “road” (more a jeep trail, really), a bit further on, and agreed it looked like a great one for the next time we were up that way. Tucked away from the road, distant from other sites, and spacious, with a nicely done fire ring out in a small clearing. I’m delighted to see his location right there. 😀

The quiet feels good, like soaking in a hot tub, or getting a massage, or going back to sleep on a lazy weekend morning. Luxurious and nurturing. I had music on for a little while. While I was tidying up. I’ve since turned it off. It’s a quiet I enjoy – the sound of feeling safe at home. I savor it. All the minutes, and these quiet hours. Life and love are busy with interactions and communication; stillness is luxury. I’m not even complaining, I’m just saying I enjoy this, and I’m shamelessly immersed in the cognitive and neurological feelings of it. Hell, I don’t even have words for how good this is for me, or fully understand why. I think those details matter less than the experience itself.

…That’s the thing I was thinking about this morning… on this journey, whether an experience is “a fence” limiting us or holding us back, or a crossroad at which we must choose, or a ledge we teeter on the edge of, with some urgent question in mind is mostly a matter of perspective. Individual definitions, filters, lenses through which we consider our experience are every bit as “important” as any detail grounded in “the facts of the matter”. I think about this a lot. It seems worth understanding. I sit with that awhile…

I catch myself sitting quietly here at my keyboard, not typing, not even “thinking” really, just being. It’s not a very productive sort of endeavor, though, and I remind myself of things I’d like to do and enjoy while I have this time. …Where’s that book I’m reading…? I look at the time, without really caring to much what time it may actually be right now. I know it’s time to begin again. 😀

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, Logic & Reason, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being, turning 60

767 Miles of Self-Reflection

July 24, 2023 //
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I drove down the coastal highway, thinking thoughts, and sometimes singing bits of songs I remember well enough to sing them as the sights go by. I stopped often, for various “view points” from which I had hoped to snap a few pictures. Most of those looked like this…

One of many “sights” along my route.

The entire northern section of my drive was enveloped in fog, or mist, or wrapped in low-hanging clouds. Not much to see. LOL

A couple cups of coffee later, the mists persisted late into the morning, well-past the point at which I had expected the clouds to have “burned off” with the rising sun. It was clear I wasn’t going to be pleasantly distracted from my thoughts by the tremendous views; those were utterly withheld from me. lol

For most of the drive, the world appeared to be mostly undeveloped, as if created instant-by-instant from my own thoughts…

It was still a lovely day for a drive.

It was early on a Thursday morning, though, and there was very little traffic. I made good time down the highway, as if toward a clear destination. Truth was, though, the journey really was my destination. I set out to spend the drive with my thoughts, and there wasn’t anything to distract me. It was hard to see it as a problem.

At several stops, and all weekend long, I made a point to take notes about the journey. Thoughts that seemed worth preserving beyond the moment. For convenience, I’d started a draft blog post, and just saved my notes there. When I look them over this morning, I’m amused that they seem almost poetic…

I sit quietly with my morning coffee, trying to assemble some group of words to share the experience of these recent days, mostly without success. I can’t do better than the fragmented notes I took along the way, and a handful of pictures. There’s something to learn from that, I’m sure. More to consider. Another opportunity for self-reflection beckoning me from a distant future moment.

I did eventually drive far enough down the highway to escape the cloud cover…

Looking back, between the clear blue sky overhead, and the deep blue ocean below, in the distance the clouds linger.

The camping wasn’t fancy, it was just a place to rest for a night. I stayed in managed state park camp grounds. It was fine. It was also quite crowded. The camps were clean, and well-maintained, but also rather noisy. In spite of the crowds, both were really pleasant places to camp, and I may go back, some other time, for some other purpose.

There was no real solitude to be found in these places, and each morning I packed up and drove on, content to make my departure with haste. I drove with purpose.

There were reliably flowers everywhere.

In the middle of all this driving, there was an important (and delightful) stop midway to visit an old friend. My longest female friendship of many decades. We haven’t sat down together in shared space in so many years – it was long overdue, and very grounding. It felt like a homecoming of a different sort.

…There are few things as precious as time spent in the company of good friends. I don’t do enough of it.

There is more to share, and a lot to continue to reflect on. There were lessons learned, and lessons observed – with much to learn still developing slowly from those observations. In general, the whole thing was time well-spent. A good time.

…I’m so glad to be home once more…

…so glad.

It’s already time to begin again. 🙂

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, art and the artist, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, grief, Healthy Living, inspiration, loneliness, Love, meditation, Menopause, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being, turning 60, women, Words

No Helpful Perspective

July 19, 2023 //
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It’s shortly after 05:00 a.m. I am tired. Groggy. Already in the office. I have a headache. At this point, I’d be awake most any work day. On this day, I woke with a panic attack, well before dawn, and even before my scheduled time to wake up. I zone in and out. It’s hard to focus. I did not get enough sleep. I was an emotional mess when I dressed and left the house quite abruptly; I don’t make my best decisions from deep within a panic attack. The point of my departure was exclusively to do with giving my Traveling Partner an opportunity to get much-needed sleep, himself. I sure wasn’t going to be going back to sleep. Now I’m stuck in that not-quite-awake/not-quite-sleeping place. Eyelids are heavy. I feel stupid and a bit dizzy.

…It’s these harder days that I practice for on all those easier days…

I left the house so early (before 04:00 a.m.) that there were no coffee shops open anywhere, on the entire drive into the city. The gas station near home was open, so I stopped in – my plan was to buy bottled or canned coffee. Coffee for the drive. I forgot all about doing that, and just got gas and got on the road to the office. lol The drive in was uneventful, aside from just… no other traffic at all, really. The streets were empty at that hour. It was spooky and pretty surreal. When I got into the city, the parking garage wasn’t even open yet. I parked on the street. I set a reminder on my phone to pay the meter; it is too early to do even that.

…I’m so tired…

Every time my consciousness lands on my waking-up experience of this morning, I start crying all over again. Weeping, to be more accurate. Tears well up and start falling. It definitely messed with my head to start my day from a place of panic, fear, and anxiety. I have a headache right on the edge of becoming a migraine. From the perspective of this fatigue and the associated lack of emotional resilience, tomorrow’s planned drive seems a tad daunting, at least for the moment. I wouldn’t want to be starting that journey from this point. “It’ll be easier once the sun rises,” I tell myself before rubbing the sleep out of my eyes and cleaning my smudgy glasses. “The world” absolutely will not actually care about “my bullshit” or chaos and damage, not even a little bit, and there is a whole new work day between me and setting forth on my weekend of driving, camping, and self-reflection. “One foot after the other,” I remind myself, “and don’t forget to breathe.”

…I get a can of cold-brew from the office kitchen…

Starting the day triggered is shitty. Just saying. I’m acknowledging that explicitly for myself because failing to do so would tend to set up the day as one on which I “don’t feel heard”, or cared for, or supported – because I need those things (feeling heard, cared for, and supported) from me every bit as much (more?) as I need them from anyone else. I take a minute to accept that the day started very poorly, and that I feel tired, and at a disadvantage. I definitely do not feel properly “engaged” or prepared for a routine day of work. My eyes glance at the time… I’ve got basically an hour to “sort myself out” and face the work day. Fuuuuuck. At least it is a “no meetings” day… that’s something. I know I can take some time to get my head right before other people have to deal with me.

…I’m so tired…

I keep sipping this coffee. It’s canned cold brew. It’s… fine? Not good. Adequate. It meets the need. I catch myself picking at my torn up cuticles (again), and sigh out loud as I let my hands drop back to the keyboard to type these words. It’s going to be that day, I guess. Tears start falling again. I let them. Now is not the time to beat myself up over a handful of fucking tears. It’s been a difficult morning. I mean, well, those first moments. The rest since then has been utterly uneventful aside from being stupidly fucking early. It takes me a while for the chemistry of some emotions to clear up… like being on a bad trip, I know it will pass. It’ll end. Things will be okay… later. For now… I sit here with this fairly crappy iced coffee, watching the sun rise beyond the windows.

…Good grief canned coffee is pretty dreadful…

The car is almost entirely packed for my roadtrip. I sip my coffee and contemplate getting on the road today, after work (although honestly I’m probably too tired for that, and may be taking a bit more than usual risk just driving home in commuter traffic later today). My timing is all based on an early departure tomorrow. I chuckle grimly; the early wake-up today will give me one advantage tomorrow morning; I’ll be “more used to” getting up earlier than I tend to for work. I’ll set my silent alarm for 04:00 and try to catch the sunrise in my rear view mirror, from the highway to the coast. I’ll just get up and leave whenever I wake. Why not? No reason I need to put any pressure on myself, and I’ll have at least 11 hours to make the 5-hour drive to my camp site for my first night. 🙂 There are lots of beautiful places to stop to see sights and get pictures, and there is no need to rush. This adventure is about the time spent in my own good company.

…I feel a genuine smile form, and although it doesn’t linger it stills feels like progress…

I am so very much looking forward to a couple days without having to “deal with people” much (hardly at all)(including my Traveling Partner). Alone with my thoughts. Alone in my own head. Alone to sleep, to eat, to breathe, “interrupted” only by a few also greatly needed hours in the company of a dear old friend. I’ve been feeling hemmed in on all sides by what everyone else seems to need from me. I suspect that’s an illusion, and I don’t “trust myself” about that feeling. I do need a proper break from “things”, and a few hours in the company of an old friend. More than that, I need a few days to handle my self-care on my own, and see to the needs of the woman in the mirror. Having come face-to-face with the unexpected existence of internalized self-directed misogyny still lingering in the way that I treat myself, it’s time to do something to heal that wound. I don’t know if a 4-day roadtrip is sufficient to do that work (it’s a lot), but it is at least a beginning. I am a big fan of beginnings. 🙂

…Isn’t each moment a small new beginning all its own…?

A yawn splits my face. I finish this coffee – probably the first of several, this morning. There’s definitely at least going to be one more following this one. lol My back aches. My head aches. The tears have dried up. That’s something. The steady whir of the A/C in the background softly suggests napping. I’m so tired.
“Soon enough,” I tell myself, “the work day will end, and it’ll be time to sleep again.” Probably make an early night of it. What else can I do? I’ve got to get some sleep before I drive a long distance or I’ll be at risk of falling asleep at the wheel. That’d be a poor choice. Safety first.

I look over my To-Do List… today seems the sort of day I’m likely to forget things. I check the list. There are still a couple items to toss in the car… my camera bag, the emergency satellite communicator, coffee beans, and my power brick for charging things. I’m glad I’ve got a list. I sit awhile wondering if I’ve overlooked anything. Coffee filters. I add them to the list. I print off the registration and window tag for each of my planned campsites; having them will be handy.

…I remember to take my morning medications (it was too early when I woke)…

I let my mind wander to the roadtrip ahead. I’m looking forward to the journey, and also looking forward to the camping. I’ve got some “new gear” to enjoy, like the fire pit we got for camping with the pickup – it’s well-suited to solo adventures, too, compact and light-weight, easy to store, easy to use… and because it is both a cook stove and also a heater, by design, I am planning on cooking real food while I camp instead of relying on dehydrated and freeze-dried food (which has been my usual practice for years). I’m excited about that. The little coffee grinder & pour-over setup that I’ve got now is also an exciting “upgrade” in gear; still compact, it will mean having a really excellent cup of very fresh coffee while I’m camping, instead of my usual “downgrade” to instant. 😀 Both items were recommended by my Traveling Partner, and it feels good to enjoy them with him in mind. I’m grateful for those suggestions, they’ll definitely be an improvement on my usual ways. 😀

I laugh outloud when I look over this morning’s post; I’ve obviously gone entirely too far with this. Definitely one of those 1500+ words posts. LOL …And my coffee is gone. Finished. Clearly, it’s time to set this aside and begin again. 🙂

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, forgiveness, gratitude, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, Summer

A Studious Approach

July 13, 2023 //
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Interesting week so far, and already almost over. I finally “have time” to pause and reflect. My visit with my therapist yesterday was… eye-opening. Revelatory. Inspiring? I’ve got a lot to reflect on, is what I’m saying. I was even overcome with a fairly urgent feeling need to be alone, to be in a place/time with the freedom to reflect at great length and at leisure, and maybe talk it over with someone dear to me… but also quite removed from my direct experience. An old friend. Another woman. Someone with more lived experience.

Talking things over with my Traveling Partner the words sort of just tumbled out and a plan developed in the moment I spoke. I decided to take advantage of an opening on the work calendar to get some time away, alone. My plan is to drive down the coastal highway, see an old friend, camp for a night or two, and head home again.

Later today, unrelated other than part of my experience and journey, and one of the many things to reflect upon, generally, I see a sleep specialist. One I have not previously seen. It took almost an hour to fill out the sleep questionnaire. It was very thorough. As is so often the case, I find it difficult to fill out such forms; my answers are often don’t fit neatly into the “often? sometimes? never?” options provided. I’m always writing in the margins! I check “never” – then opine that it’s not actually never, just very rare. Or I pick “sometimes”, but feel compelled to explain that when it’s going on, it’s actually “often”. That kind of thing. Like… routinely. It’s hard to fill out forms. I’m not “typical”. LOL The answers I want to give are thorough, nuanced, and given context – anything less feels like I’m not able to share my experience correctly. It’s probably a bit much for the medical professional that has to read it. Still… I am hopeful as I prepare for the appointment.

Summery weather of late. I don’t mind. I’m in less pain, generally, when the weather is warm or hot, and quite dry. I sit for a minute, giving myself “room to just be” and paying attention to my body. Pain today? Yeah. Arthritis is about a 3 today… manageable. My headache? Just at this moment, in this specific position, for the time being… it isn’t a headache. Just a bit of tension in that left levator of scapula (or is it the supraspinatus? I’m not sure, honestly, I just live in this meat suit!). It all seems connected somehow… the shoulder pain, the neck pain, the headaches… a weird crescent of pain that feels as if I am balancing it between my shoulder and my ear somehow. Meh. I let it go. I’m okay-ish today.

I think about things my therapist said about things I’d said. I think about my relationship with the woman in the mirror. She deserves better than I give her. I could for sure do better, and I find myself considering the idea that I’ve maybe been “stepping through” a lot of self-care practices in a “tick the box” fashion, without genuine care and affection, just… getting it done. Surviving life, coping with trauma, but not really “being there for myself” in an honest emotional heartfelt genuinely loving way. Wild to say so. Annoying to be aware that this really might be the case even after all this time and work. It’s a journey, though, isn’t it? A process of discovery and self-discovery, of learning and growing, of getting from there to here to over there further on? The journey is the destination, and I suppose I could be grateful to continue to put one foot after the other, over time, and continuing to make actual progress. 😀

…I guess I’ll begin again… again.

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being, turning 60

It’s Not Like I Know

July 9, 2023 //
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I’m relaxing on a Sunday afternoon. It’s been a lovely day, and a great weekend. Oh, nothing unusual or strange, just a thoroughly pleasant weekend, filled with love and laughter. It’s been quite nice.

I went to my imaging appointment Friday. It also seemed quite routine, and entirely lacking in any stress or drama. I’ll probably have results tomorrow, the next day? Something like that. It hasn’t been on my mind since the appointment ended; I’ve been enjoying the here and now. The weekend.

I’ve got a few quite minutes to play with. I decide to write. I sat down thinking perhaps I had a thought worth sharing. I ended up watching videos of squirrels, guinea pigs, kittens, and… belly dancing. I know, weird assortment. I wasn’t looking to kill time, but managed to do so anyway. lol

Here’s a thing to know… I don’t know “everything”. Honestly, I know a fair few things, but I don’t put a lot of emotional investment into feelings of certainty anymore. It’s a waste of time to feel “certain” about most stuff; circumstances change, use cases change, recollections change, understandings change, hell – according to physics, it’s likely even reality itself changes. So… what the fuck do I know?? Damned little, when compared to the set of “all knowledge”, frankly. Why mention it? Because – my results vary. Yours will, too. Taking advice from random weirdos or “experts” on the internet isn’t reliably the best option if one is seeking knowledge. I’m just saying; read the fine print. Ask discerning questions. Listen to the answers to your questions. Practice non-attachment. Trust your gut feelings. Also be skeptical of things you “feel sure of” – those are also suspect. It’s a weird puzzle, this funny journey that is one human life. You can select some other human from all the available humans around and follow them… or… you can walk your own path. No map. Be your own cartographer. Test interesting practices yourself, and make your own decisions. It is an option. It’s potentially even your best option… depending on… a lot of things, including what sort of raw materials you’re working with intelligence-wise, emotional intelligence-wise (which may be more important that just “smarts”, by far), education-wise… and so many other resources and experiences that went into the you that you became over time. Can you trust yourself to be your own best friend, and also wise, compassionate, and willing to think critically? It’s a lot to ask, I know.

It’s easy to follow someone else. If they lead you astray, you don’t even have to take the blame for where you end up, eh? Soooo easy. On the other hand… there is so much freedom, and agency, and creativity, and opportunity, in walking your own path! …You just don’t know where you’re going to arrive, when you reach your destination. How could you? The journey is the destination. But, hey… would you have known, anyway? Maybe not. Not really – just a guess, or accepting someone else’s word for it.

Walking my own path has been (is) scary sometimes. No, I didn’t “get here” alone – there are other travelers walking their own hard mile, on their own journey, who happen to share some portion of my path as I walk. It’s good to have company, now and then. Perspective. The tales of travelers are often quite interesting – if not always 100% true. Walking my own path hasn’t amounted to solitude in any particular sense, it’s just a walk, a path, navigated largely on my own decision-making, but often in the company of others. I don’t ask them to follow me. I’m not following anyone else in any specific way. I often seek advice, sometimes I take it. Sometimes I don’t.

It’s a lovely Sunday to reflect on how far I’ve come in a decade. A worthy journey, indeed, and time to begin again. 😀

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being, turning 60
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