Archives for category: solo hiking

How do you know who you are, specifically? Is it a question you easily ask and answer, or does the “who are you, really?” question mess with your head? I suppose I revisit this question rather frequently, and with little stress, these days, and sometimes with some surprise (as in “Is this who I am?”). I’ve changed a lot as a human being over a lifetime. (You’ve probably changed some, too – haven’t you?)

When I think about who I am, who I have been, and the journey between those points (and, frankly, extending well beyond my current understanding of self, into the murky unknown of the future), I prefer to rest comfortably on what I know of myself, personally, understood in the context of my own values, my own experience, and my own understanding of the world. There is value in hearing the perspective of others, and honest self-reflection on the words and impressions of others can be an eye-opener worthy of deep listening and consideration…but… at the end of the day (any day), the greater value is in self-knowledge, self-awareness, and an internal dialogue that is frank without cruelty, I find. It is a literal truth that no one knows me like I know myself.

How do I know if my internal dialogue is sufficiently honest? I guess only by being honest with myself about that, too. There are choices involved. Awareness is a good starting point on any journey.

Why does this matter today? Well, I guess because (to me) it matters every day…but… tomorrow is New Year’s Eve, and New Year’s Day will (if all goes well) follow it fairly closely. 🙂 I celebrate New Year’s as a simple enough turning of a calendar page, and I celebrate it as the end of the winter holiday season, and also as another opportunity to begin again. No “resolutions” – change doesn’t work for me quite that way. I’ll sit down with myself, reflect on the year that has ended, consider the year to come, and look at the journey I’ve made in life so far. I’ll look ahead to destinations I hope to reach, successes I hope to achieve (larger or small, it’s not really about scale, more about trajectory), and changes I hope to make for myself to improve my quality of life, or to be more the woman I most want to be. I’ll consider the things I didn’t reach along last year’s journey, without diminishing myself or treating myself poorly. I’ll give myself the opportunity to learn and grow from both my successes and my failures. No shortcuts. No self-deception. No looking away from the harder moments, or less pleasant truths, and also willfully and eagerly embracing the lovely moments, the delights, the wonders, and the joys.

I use an assortment of tools, tasks, and practices to consider and reconsider the year behind me, the year to come, and the woman in the mirror poised between them. I spend time writing. I update my “Life in Weeks” calendar and reflect on how I have spent my time, and what I can do differently to better meet my long-term needs in life. I meditate. I meditate on questions I may not previously have thought to ask… sometimes it helps to have a tool for that. I take a walk along one path or another, sometimes new, sometimes more familiar. More than anything else, though, it is a matter of taking the time for constructive self-reflection, and placing enough value on that time to fully respect it, to set boundaries, and to take care of the woman in the mirror. Once a year? I definitely have time for me once a year. 🙂 Over time it has proven to be a worthy investment in self, and so I continue the tradition year after year.

Today I will get the housekeeping out of the way for the weekend, run errands, do chores. I’ll treat myself exceptionally well by preparing in advance for deeply satisfying celebratory self-reflection and leisure to come. No discomfort, no guilt, no reluctance; I enjoy this time I spend with myself each year, and invest some effort in making it a moment worth savoring. Other people, other celebrations, this is me, doing New Year’s my way. I’m okay with that; it’s enough. 2017? Bring it!

I woke this morning during the wee hours, which is not unusual. I went back to sleep, not terribly rare either. I even managed to sleep in, wrapped in comfort and contentment, drifting among pleasant dreams, even sleeping through the bzz-bzz of the good morning greeting from my Traveling Partner when his message reached my fitness tracker. Sleeping in felt so good… right up to that point at which a neighbor’s idling vehicle in the parking lot woke me. It’s not my favorite way to wake up, but my coffee is tasty, and the day has begun. 🙂

A first look at a misty morning

A first look at a misty morning

My calendar is empty today. No appointments, no plans, no events, nothing whatever actually scheduled happens to be happening today (for me). Interesting. The morning is foggy, most of the view beyond the window softened to an indistinct gray-scale beyond the meadow, a bit as if the day itself just hasn’t been formed quite yet. Clearly, I am awake too early; the day is not yet even created! I sip my coffee, smiling at the whimsical image of each day being truly formed anew from components of reality.

The view beyond the meadow

The view beyond the meadow

The lack of notation on a calendar page is no indicator of what the day is worth, nor a limitation on where it may take me. A painting is not often made of a single brush stroke. There are moments ahead, choices, actions, thoughts, details… The details add up, and when I look back from a later vantage point, the day will likely be filled with them. Will I make today another success with my current dietary restrictions? Perhaps a list of chores will be written, checked off, and my quality of life improved thereby? Will I finish the book I am reading? Will I start another? Will I spend minutes or hours meditating? Will a fire crackle merrily in the fireplace on a chilly winter day? Will I hike many miles and return home tired, smiling, and eager to enjoy a leisurely hot shower? Will I try a new recipe for chicken? Will I see birds and squirrels at the feeder? What emotions will characterize my experience, today? If I choose poorly and find myself mired in some unpleasant moment, how will I deal with that? All choices. Each choice matters in some moment. The moments add up.

There is something marvelous about choice, and choices; however things may be going, I can choose differently any time, and change my experience. 🙂

Today is a good day to consider, and a good day to choose. We become what we practice. It’s enough. 🙂

 

Today I’ll head to the office. My clothes are appropriate for the weather. I’ve got a warm coat. I’ll put on a hate, scarf, gloves, and my Yak Tracks (even though my hiking boots have good tread and are very “grippy”, they’re not the “tool for the job” on icy surfaces). I’ve got a hiking base layer on under my work clothes. I don’t expect to make the trip as quickly as some dry autumn morning. I don’t expect my footing to be as secure as a summer day. I’ll take my time and make the trip without rushing myself, unconcerned about timeliness, and focused on safety.

Not all journeys are “the same”; we are each having our own experience. I live in the Portland (Oregon) area, and although we playfully mock ourselves for coming unglued over two inches of snow, here, the icing over that happens regularly is genuinely a hazard. I stayed home yesterday; travel wasn’t very safe, and working from home is an option for me. Today, I’m choosing to make the journey less because there’s any great improvement in the safety, and more because the specifics of the work to be done will benefit from being on site. I miss my Traveling Partner like crazy, but his safety matters more by far (and Giftmas is almost here, and we have plans to spend some time together over the holiday, making it easy to be patient).

We are each having our own experience… and in this icy winter weather, we are also “all in it together” as soon as we step out onto the pavement, or get into our cars. How do I find balance between taking care of me, and being fully considerate of my fellow travelers? It’s a question that has a permanent place on my list. What matters most? Another good question. How can I help? A good question to have ready, generally, and excellent for use in tough circumstances.

Today is a good day for care and consideration, for taking care of me, for looking out for others. Today is a good day to put safety first, and to be aware of those that could use some help or a moment of kindness. Today is a good day to dress for the weather, and approach the journey with a measure of caution. It’s winter out there. I can choose whether I see it as a wonderland, or… something different than that. I can choose how I see the world.

Each having our own experience.

Each having our own experience.

I went to be quite early last night. I was tired. I slept through the night. I woke this morning, a couple minutes ahead of the alarm. I feel well-rested. All of that is good stuff. I ended my evening on the recovering side of a bad headache that lasted most of yesterday (and started the day before), and my last few minutes before bed were spent working out a terrible leg cramp – in the muscles of my left shin, which still seems rather strange. The pain, as with any other leg cramp, was quite terrible. It woke me twice again during the night, but awareness and a position change was sufficient to work things out and return to sleep. I’m not in any particular pain this morning, as I sit here.

Not too tired to pause for a beautiful view.

Not too tired to pause for a beautiful view.

If I spend more time, this morning, thinking about the headache, arthritis pain, or leg cramps of yesterday, I will quickly lose sight of not actually being in pain right now, and lose the opportunity to hold this moment in awareness, to appreciate and deepen it, to linger in this pain-free moment. So, instead, I note those less comfortable moments briefly, without emotional investment, and move to on steeping in this moment right here, pain-free, listening to the wind howl around the eaves, the wind chime rocking out madly, and the low whisper-y moan of the wind in the flue pipe, sipping my coffee. The weather forecast is cold. Freezing, in fact, with some hours of snow thrown in later, making it clear it is a winter day.

Even cold winter days offer beautiful moments.

Even cold winter days offer beautiful moments.

I’m missing my Traveling Partner, but not enough to sacrifice our comfort or wellness by making demands on his time, or mine. Yesterday, I was exhausted and headache-y. The day before, he was exhausted, himself. So it goes. The busy weekdays are a tough fit, worsened by the commuter traffic in our area, and the limited amount of leisure left over after working. Moving into my own space with the fairly childish daydream of somehow always being together while somehow also being alone much of the time was an awkward thing, and did not reflect the realities of either of our lives, or our varied needs. It took time to find my way here; content with solitude, content with the time I spend in the arms of love, content that the quality of our time together balances the time I spend alone, also of high quality, as I learn to treat myself truly well, and really care for this fragile vessel, and to adult more skillfully. Lonely is a rare thing these days, even when I miss my Traveling Partner the way I do this morning, as I sip my coffee listening to the wind howl.

This is a lovely morning, characterized by contentment and quiet. I smile and consider the woman in the mirror… When did she become so easily satisfied? …This definitely feels like “enough”…

The morning commute offers some lovely moments.

The morning commute offers some lovely moments.

I’m strangely eager for my walk this morning, as cold as it is. The winter wind will whip across the bridge, it may be slick in places, icy. It’s a good day for bundling up, and I find myself wondering if I would be more comfortable with a hiking base layer under my work clothes today. Oh but to see the blue sky peeking out from behind the clouds, the city illuminated by dawn… it won’t matter that it’s winter in that lovely moment, cold fingers working a colder camera… beauty is worth stopping for. How much slower is the pace of life if we simply stop for each beautiful moment at least long enough to notice it? 🙂

Today is a good day to enjoy beauty, and to pause for pleasant moments. Today is a good day for practicing practices. Today is a good day to be, and to become. Today is a good day for sufficiency.

I’m sipping my second coffee. The first disappeared quickly as I sifted through invoices, receipts, and purchase records looking for all the details the insurance company needs. It is a subtly de-humanizing process, this requirement to prove that I life the life I do, have the things I have accumulated over a life-time. It is very telling of the sort of creatures we human beings are that it is a necessary thing to require such detailed documentation; we’ll lie for money. I’m not pointing fingers, and it’s not “about me”, so I am not taking it personally…but, damn, what ugly caricatures of our own potential for greatness we tend to be. I’m not angry… more disappointed.

It is a quiet morning. I slept well and deeply, going to bed far later than usual and waking very much at a ‘sleeping in’ time of morning. That’s often what it takes for me to get enough rest. I don’t stop to wonder why. I take time to enjoy feeling rested.  I still don’t feel “safe” here, and I catch myself repeating the narrative as though it was the break-in that created that change in how this space feels, in some abrupt distinct very defined way – was it really? Not if I’m being entirely frank with myself; the process of letting go my attachment to this place, to ease the process of moving on, is certainly a more likely beginning – but those tentative first steps in the letting go direction surely made me far more vulnerable to that moment when my sense of safety was undermined so dramatically. Was I ever as safe as I felt? No more so than I am as unsafe as I feel now. Perspective. Still a thing.

When I exist engaged in this moment, here, now, present, awake, aware, there is little clear sense of “more than”, “less than”, or a need to set a threshold and maintain or monitor the outcome. It feels good to be. Content in the moment, because this moment is safe… or feels so. I suppose if I lived under siege, and had to dash to a remaining grocer through a hail of sniper fire, or gaze warily into the sky for unseen drones, or wait, breathless with terror, between bombings, or sleep lightly for fear of the knock on the door, no one moment would be any safer than another, either. Perspective.

I’ve survived some things in life. It has cost me dearly more than once to be able to stand here, in a quiet space, and say so. The price was worth paying. I’m here, in this quiet moment. It is enough. A moment of terror, a moment of trauma, a moment of abuse; we all survive some terrible moments, and our own pain is pretty nearly always the worst we can imagine. Without perspective, we might wander about continuing to allow ourselves to think that is the true truth of it. It is not; right now, somewhere, someone else isn’t sure they will get out alive, while I have a very different moment. I breathe. Sip my coffee. I find room to really savor how good this moment is.

Today is a good day to be mindful how little it takes to be okay right now, safe in this one moment. Today is a good day to embrace sufficiency, and to treat myself well and with great kindness. Today is a good day to remember we are each having our own experience – and some of those suck for some of us, maybe even right now. Today is a good day to listen, to care, and to make amends for the wrongs we’ve done – not because any one of us is more deserving than any other, but because we choose to be better than the human being we were, yesterday.

It’s time to walk on. 🙂