Archives for category: solo hiking

It’s a Monday morning. This has only whatever significance I choose to give it. Does my choice to face Monday differently (than ‘Oh, damn, not another Monday’, for example) also determine the outcome? Will I most certainly enjoy a lovely calm Monday without any challenges or stress simply by changing my assumptions going into the day? Realistically, there are no guarantees – I might have a terrible Monday however positive I feel going into it.

When I started down this path, I held onto the fairly childlike notion that good choices, and being open to success and positive outcomes would be enough to ensure the successes and positive outcomes would occur. It was incredibly disappointing the first many times I had a straight up no bullshit bad day – I’d chosen so well! I’d been so positive! I’ve learned a lot more since then. I’ve learned that my will is not the only will that is involved in my outcome – and that whatever the outcome, itself, I still have opportunities to enjoy what is enjoyable, to savor things that nurture me, and to learn from what wasn’t so pleasant. Those good choices all still matter – even if the day goes sideways, or ends poorly – because they determine more than merely the outcome. They say something about who I am, and build memory and experience. All of that matters.

Yesterday I had planned to go for a solo hike in a nearby park I’ve never visited. I planned to get there on transit, and it looked pretty easy to do. I checked my route again on Friday. I woke ready to go, yesterday, and was out the door at the time I had intended to be. The day was beautiful. I got downtown to my transfer point, and checked the bus timing; there was just one bus listed as going to the park I had in mind. Right – Sunday. I had checked the bus schedule on a weekday and failed to account for Sundays. No matter, I check my map again and notice the Sunday bus would still get me within a half an hour’s walk of the park itself. Close enough…right? (Can I pause to observe how convenient this technology is? This powerful computer in the palm of my hand can do so much!) A closer look reveals the walking portion of my route is along a detour – with no pedestrian space. Well…that’s a plan changer, right there. I might walk a few feet along a busy road without a sidewalk or pedestrian easement, but doing so for half an hour, early in the morning seems foolish without at least wearing reflective gear of some kind – and I wasn’t prepared.

A change of plans requires a change in perspective.

A change of plans requires a change in perspective.

As little as 3 years ago, I might have been frustrated to the point of being sensitive and easily angered, and disappointment would likely have been a companion for some hours, at least. A year or two ago, I’d have taken a few minutes to let that go, and moved on with my day with acceptance – probably returning home to ‘start over’ somehow. Yesterday was different – and delightfully not at all ‘special’ in this regard – I was barely disappointed enough to register the emotion as being part of my experience, and took time to enjoy quite an exceptional coffee at a favorite cafe, and a well-chosen pastry to complement the coffee (ensuring the low blood sugar didn’t complicate disappointment; it was time for some calories). I didn’t waste time fussing that my plan had fallen apart – the park exists, there are more days in the future (as far as I know), and there is so much that can be done with a lovely Sunday. I sipped my coffee, munched my pastry, and watched people come and go while giving the day some thought, without stress or anxiety.

Taking care of me.

Taking care of me.

Back to the wonder of the technology in my hand…I used it while enjoying my coffee to determine what other area attractions of interest to me might be a good ‘plan B’ for my Sunday adventure. Thank you, Science! Thank you, HTC! Thank you, Android! Thank you, Google! Thank you, DARPA and all the contributing developers of the World Wide Web and the Internet! I don’t say thank you enough, but I do benefit every day from the device you have put in my hands.

I observed on the map that a short walk, followed by a short bus ride, would put me on a trail to the International Rose Test Garden located in Washington Park, and felt the excitement of surprise and delight that goes with discovering ‘a better way’ to get somewhere I really like to go. The Japanese Garden is located nearby, too…and miles and miles of the Wildwood Trail, which I have walked very little of in the years I’ve lived in the area…my Sunday quickly began to take on its new form. I’d take this new route to the Rose Garden, visit the Japanese Garden, too, and enjoy the trails to, from, and between, along the way.

New path, new perspective.

New path, new perspective.

I made good choices, and the outcome was pleasant and worthwhile. I’m not sure how connected our choices are to our outcomes, though – sometimes more than others, it would seem, and I admit to being a bit confused by that sometimes, even now.  Acceptance of change is a big piece of the contentment puzzle, and it surely helps to be flexible and adaptable in the face of change. Perspective has a say in my outcomes, too, providing me an opportunity to build a different understanding of my experience, and perhaps a moment of calm in the face of the turmoil of change or an experience of disappointment. My assumptions, and the way I define the elements of my experience, will also have a say in my perception of the outcome; we are creatures of both emotion and reason, and my will can be applied to my thinking as well as my choices. I think what I am getting at is that I have a new understanding of choice and outcome. There’s a gap between them, filled with opportunities to learn, grow, consider, observe, enjoy, adapt, accept…and that gap is a worthy moment to be present and engaged, and to savor life. Or something. Your results may vary.

Why, yes, I think I will, thanks. :-)

Why, yes, I think I will, thanks. 🙂

Today is a good day to make good choices, and roll with changes. Today is a good day to enjoy the journey. Today is a good day to be my own cartographer; perhaps a good map can change the way I see the world?

I took today off in the middle of the week. This one is for me. It’s a lovely spring day, and aside from getting my hair cut later this afternoon, I have no specific agenda besides walking in the sunshine, with my camera, and simply being.  I hope to stroll unexplored streets of a city I love, and I hope to visit some of the many lovely parks I have not yet seen. Perhaps I will have my lunch in one such park or another, enjoying the collage of passing strangers, birdsong, and flowers? It’s an ideal day for it.

Every day holds vast potential, unexplored wonders, new opportunities; I need only be awake, aware, and willing to be engaged in the moment.

Every day holds vast potential, unexplored wonders, new opportunities; I need only be awake, aware, and willing to be engaged in the moment.

Today I take time to treat myself truly well, as a choice, with will and intention, open wonder and possibilities previously unconsidered. Today, I enjoy the world.

I slept rather poorly and feel a little groggy, and less sharp than usual. The morning is quiet and gentle on my consciousness. The house is still. I feel generally content, calm, and if not delighted, certainly I feel decently well and whole. My coffee tastes very good, and the heat of the cup warms my hands. I feel rather stiff, and movement is more awkward than I’d like it to be – and this will likely ease with a bit more yoga, some walking, and getting the day going. My pain is ‘managed’, and simply exists in the background in a less noteworthy way than it often does. Spring is here, summer on its way, and for a few weeks I will likely get some measure of relief from the worst of my pain, before autumn returns.

In general, this morning is quite lovely, relaxed, and quiet. This leisurely stillness and these few relaxed moments in the morning, are a favorite feature of life, for me.

In contrast with the stillness and calm of the morning, itself, I notice my bed is in a total state of disarray. Odd, because I often sleep in a very still way, without overturning or disturbing the covers  much at all – often enough, that it is quite characteristic of my sleep. Nights like last night look almost as if someone else slept in my bed, or perhaps a very small tornado hit just right there, in the middle of the bed. With the restless night behind me, I don’t stop to wonder ‘why’ or to probe the remnants of my dreams for answers. It isn’t truly relevant to my waking experience of ‘now’, and pursuing idle curiosity about forgotten dreams sometimes leads into darkness. I have no time for darkness, today.

Sometimes the path I walk seems well lit.

Sometimes the path I walk seems bathed in light.

There are quiet a few opportunities along my journey to choose to continue on, rather than taking the time to become mired in something painful, awkward, or unpleasant. Like any solo hike, I’m sort of ‘on my own’ in life, making my own choices, pursuing my own goals, learning the life lessons most relevant to me in the moment, and finding my own way out of the darkness. Solo hiking is good metaphor, here, especially because even solo hiking is rarely entirely utterly solitary throughout; we pass by each other on the trail, sometimes we walk alongside a friend and our journey is less solitary for some while, we have chance encounters with strangers on their own journeys, we reach out to others for connection, contact, or help. It’s still our own journey. We are each having our own experience. Life is a long solo hike through moments, hours, days, years…I am fortunate that, in spite of the chaos and damage, I know love.

Sometimes the path seems more challenging; it's helpful to have something to hold on to.

Sometimes the path seems more challenging; it’s helpful to have something to hold on to.

Knowing love, sometimes I find myself suffering; I occasionally blame love, itself, for my choice to suffer. It’s not actually the fault of love that I am capable of suffering over, or for, or about love; it’s a very human thing, tending to indicate I am unskilled at love and loving, more than saying anything about love’s own qualities.

Since we’re human beings, we make mistakes. We cause others to suffer. We hurt our loved ones, and we feel regret. But without making mistakes, there is no way to learn. If you can learn from your mistakes, then you have already transformed garbage into flowers. Very often, our mistakes come from our unskillfulness, and not because we want to harm one another.”

from “How to Love” by Thich Nhat Hanh

I continue to practice, to be a student of love, and to take to heart such wisdom as I find in the world that speaks to me. I continue to walk on, to walk it off, to walk away from what doesn’t work well for me, to continue toward practices and choices that work well for me, and tend to strengthen my ability to love, and to love well. I’m not seeking an achievement, a goal, an award, or any recognition on this one; it is the journey that matters, and the choices I make along the way. I regularly stumble on missed ‘take care of me, first’ moments, as if not noticing a snag along a trail; I learn from each miss how important good self-care is, whether it is taking my Rx medication on time, keeping an eye on my blood sugar, getting enough rest, or simply showing myself some kindness in the face of some mistake or another. I am only able to love well when I am also very high on my list of people I love…really high on my list. Like… first. Sure, sometimes I do find it hard to put me at the top of my list; the effort to do so, and to treat myself truly well, pays off in how much more easily I am able to love others when I am well-cared for from within. Experience suggests that when I care for myself well, and treat myself with kindness and affection, I am also easier to love. So…no down side to treating myself well, then. 🙂

One moment of many; an opportunity to breathe, to observe, and to be.

One moment of many; an opportunity to breathe, to observe, and to be.

It’s a lovely day for forward momentum, and a lovely day to walk my own path. Today is a good day to enjoy my experience of myself, and to embrace and nurture the qualities of heart and mind that I value in myself.  Today is a good day to smile at strangers and wish them well; they are each walking a path of their own choosing, toward an unknown destination, and worthy of well-wishes wishes, consideration, and good-natured regard. Today is a good day to look ahead with gratitude and appreciation. Today is a good day to change the world.

I am the hiker. I am the flower along the trail.

I am the hiker. I am the flower along the trail.

I am enjoying a lovely quiet evening. It is very different from what I may have expected – a good lesson in letting go of attachment to expectations. It is also very different from I might have planned; having not made specific other plans, those thoughts are irrelevant – the very essence of thought: lacking substance or reality of its own, but seeming unarguably valid. Certainly, the evening is different from what I may have said I wanted, had I been asked, and again the thought lacks relevance, circumstances being what they are; pleasantly calm, quiet, and solitary. Funny that such a quiet evening of contentment and study wasn’t higher on my list of possible desirable evenings… I consider wondering why it wasn’t, but quickly realize that what matters is to enjoy it as it is, without criticism or judgment, and to trust that practicing being accepting of, and kind to, myself on a quiet evening requires no excuses, justification, or defense.

I have my challenges. I find myself struggling to let go of attachment. I have a loyal, kind, and generous nature that leaves me open to exploitation, too tolerant of poor treatment, and with a brain injury that limits my ability to set firm boundaries, or reliably communicate clearly in the moment. It seems strange to admit it so simply; I have refused to acknowledge these traits for so long, out of shame for being weak and broken. I have been hesitant to be vulnerable out of fear of leaving myself open to ridicule. I could be kinder to myself, and benefit greatly from it. I still have a lot to learn, and much to practice.  Hard, too, is the inevitable discovery that things I enjoy in myself, and qualities I choose to nurture because I value them, may not be similarly valued by others; it requires strength and persistence to choose me, and to show myself the loyalty, kindness, and generosity that is so much who I am.

Where does this path lead? I am in unfamiliar territory.

Where does this path lead? I am in unfamiliar territory.

The path to emotional self-sufficiency seems also to be the path to The Art of Being, and a path that speeds to creative freedom, satisfaction, and a less chaotic day-to-day experience. More choices, fewer reactions. More day-to-day calm. More likelihood that I will be able to meet my needs over time.

…Here’s the thing, though, at least for me; my choices really matter, and it is critical that they be made again, and again, and again, even when I am uncertain of the outcome, or experiencing insecurity or doubt. It’s how practice works, and there’s no short cut; I still have to do the verbs. I don’t always get the outcome I’m after…sometimes that seems to matter, at least long enough to blow my heart off course, sometimes it doesn’t matter at all. So…it’s not without effort, or failure; I fall, I get up, I go again…I learn, I grow. I gain perspective, and try again. It’s enough.

Tonight, I make good choices; I complete a project I committed to, and spend the rest of the evening in gentle solitude, enjoying my own company, my own moment…also, very much enough.

A lovely sunny spring day becomes a quiet somewhat chilly spring night. That, too, is enough.

There is so much free will in life. There are so many choices! I like that about the experience of living. Similarly, I am sometimes frustrated by the limits I place on myself, often without recognizing that I have also chosen those.

Even when we are awake, aware, and observing the world through a beginner's eyes, we choose much of what we see.

Even when we are awake, aware, and observing the world through a beginner’s eyes, we choose much of what we see.

Mondays get a bit of bad press. This morning I’m choosing a different Monday. (Because I can, that’s why. lol) This particular Monday is one that I will use to make choices, eyes open, willfully, in favor of things I enjoy. Today, simply, I am choosing joy, choosing delight, choosing pleasantness, choosing small things that put big smiles on my face. Will it be time in the garden after work? Will it be pen & ink sketches on my lunch time walk, or photographs of spring flowers? Perhaps I may choose to create small figures from colorful modeling clay to create a tiny world at the foot of my wee ornamental pistachio tree? I could choose to create order from chaos with mindful service to home and hearth; a wonderful way to put practices to good use on a number of levels. I could read a great book I love – or a book I know nothing about, but comes highly recommended by someone who matters. I could wrap up a productive work day over dinner with a friend, or in meditation. I could share a movie night with family, or enjoy a long walk.

Choosing my path with care seems worthy as choices go...

Choosing my path with care seems worthy as choices go…

What I’m saying is that I choose a lot of my experience, and it begins with a pretty vast menu of options. I filter those options – we all do – down to some much shorter list of things that in that moment seem most probable, most ‘do-able’, then peculiarly I sometimes find myself left with the illusion that this much shorter list is actually the whole of it – ‘all’ my choices. It isn’t. There are so many more choices than I generally lay before myself for consideration in any one moment.  This is not an uncommon experience, I see it in others – most often that scenario that begins with distress that ‘there’s no other choice’ or ‘nothing else I can do’. My reaction is often one of commencing to throw other options into the mix for consideration – behaving as if that person is unaware of the vastness of their unlimited options. It’s not helpful; people know they have more choices. They have excluded many of them, by choice. I am learning to take a new approach – even within myself – in the face of ‘I have no other choice’; I am finding value in asking to what purpose the choices have been limited thus, rather than offering more choices. Sometimes it isn’t at all that ‘I have no other choice’ – it is more likely that I have made the choice, and am not content with either the choice itself, or the anticipated outcome. It is an interesting exercise in perspective to make a point of changing what I anticipate the outcome of an uncomfortable choice to be, and reconsider it – it has the power to change what I think about the choice, and has often proven as likely to be a valid possible outcome, in practice. My ‘outcome predictor’ is quite broken; I anticipate catastrophe far more often than I anticipate profound success. I am regularly wrong, in both cases.

It feels very different lately to make more of my choices based less on some predicted outcome, and more on what the experience itself feels like for me – and to choose more frequently from the list of ‘Things I Enjoy Greatly’ rather than from the list of ‘Things I Must Do Or There Will Be Consequences’, or worse, the very short list of ‘I Have No Other Choice’ (a list most of us have, I suppose, and it seems dreadfully short on options, and usually made up of unpleasant ones).

Today is a good day to do things I enjoy, because I enjoy them. Today is a good day to do things that must be done – and to choose to do them, also, in a way that I enjoy. Today is a good day to choose well, and to choose wisely, and to keep myself high on my list of priorities. Today is a good day to explore The Art of Being, by being – artfully, joyfully, and fully embracing the best of who I am, from my own perspective. Today is a good day to take the time to enjoy my experience.