Archives for category: solo hiking

The trailhead parking is thankfully empty today. My “extra headache” has abated (but my Traveling Partner and the Anxious Adventurer now seem to have it, so maybe some kind of illness going around). The rain has been quite light and intermittent. I swap my shoes for my hiking boots, expecting to get a walk in before work this morning.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. My neck aches ferociously and my tinnitus is quite loud this morning. Typical physical bullshit I deal with daily, and this morning I don’t let it wreck my mood. I am feeling the holiday spirit this year, more than some years. I enjoy the excitement and feeling of being “lifted up”. It’ll no doubt pass; most emotional experiences are very temporary. I’m okay with that. I’m enjoying it now, and listening to the rain fall. I’ve got holiday carols stuck in my head and just now realized I haven’t sent cards! LOL

… I guess I’ll do that this weekend…

It’s a nice morning for beginnings. I listen to the traffic rolling by on the wet highway. The rain has stopped, at least for now, and it’s definitely time to begin again. I grab my cane and my headlamp and get on with it.

Cold morning. Above freezing, though, and I’m dressed warmly. I walk the trail in the pre-dawn darkness, grateful for the circle of light cast by my headlamp bobbing along with my steps. It rained during the night and the trail is slick with wet leaves in some spots, and in others there are puddles to avoid. I step along with care, feeling the cold, grateful for gloves and a scarf, and my warm fleece over a favorite sweater.

Clouds illuminated by city lights before dawn.

… This morning writing would wait until I’m back at the car…

It was a good walk. It’s a Monday morning. I’m in the kind of pain that only seems to come around in cold damp weather, unpleasant for sure, but I’m more angry about it than suffering from it. I resent the imposition on my abilities and my will. I’ve got shit to do, and a life to live. “Fuck pain,” I snarl quietly to myself as I warm up in the car after my walk.

Monday isn’t my busiest workday, generally, but today any sense of ease has been overcome by errands that need to be run, which bookend my day; early errands to drop off items being returned, and packages being posted, and at the other end, running my Traveling Partner over to his PT appointment. In between? Work, yes, but since I’m working from home, also anything else I can wedge into the day… taking out recycling, laundry, dishes… sometimes the notion of “a day off” dissipates like fog as the sun rises. I breathe, exhale, and relax. There’s no point being mad about it; I’m the one doing it to myself, and could certainly do a better job of managing my time and setting boundaries. It takes practice.

…I keep practicing…

… I’m tired as the holidays hurtle towards me on the calendar.

The VA sent me a “sound machine” after my audiology appointment. It arrived yesterday. It’s supposed to help with my tinnitus. I wonder if it will? Am I noticing any improvement after one night? I don’t know. I don’t think so? But, the shrieking of my tinnitus in my ears wasn’t the first thing that had my attention this morning, and when I got up to pee during the night, it didn’t keep me awake. So… maybe? How is success measured? I found the sound I selected very pleasant as background noise for sleeping… maybe that’s enough?

… I’m more eager to get my hearing aids…

I laugh at myself when I realize I’ve projected myself into a future moment only to feel discontent that it is not now. That’s just fucking dumb. A waste of precious mortal lifetime for sure. I pull myself back to now. This moment right here is quite a pleasant satisfying one, deserving to be enjoyed. I reflect for a moment on how easily I allow some new momentary difficulty to create chaos in my experience by letting it overwhelm a very pleasant moment I’ve been enjoying. That’s the entire point of practicing savoring each small joy and pleasant moment; to learn to refrain from twisting chaotically with every little thing, and to build emotional resilience.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. Lovely moment, this one. I take time to enjoy it. To meditate. To enjoy the steady progress towards the soggy sunrise before I begin the work day. It’s useful to let each new beginning be preceded by a quiet moment of reflection. So… I do that. Then I’ll begin again.

I sit quietly with my coffee. A steady light rain is falling. My tinnitus is loud in my ears and my mind wanders, unsettled and restless. I’m fine, for all describable commonplace values of “fine”. There’s nothing amiss. I’m tired perhaps, having wakened to the final full brightness of my sunrise alarm this morning, pulled from a very involved surreal dream that involved a large elegant home, a handful of friends, and a colony of guinea pigs.

I reached the trailhead during a break in the rain. My walk did nothing to improve upon my strange distractedness, but it was pleasant and that’s enough.

Rainy morning, another beginning.

I returned to the car just as the rain began falling again. I sit listening to it contentedly, warm and dry, enjoying my coffee. I’m grateful for insulated travel mugs (definitely a technological win). I’ve got an errand to run before I head home, and my Traveling Partner slept poorly during the night. I’m in no hurry, and he’ll benefit from some quiet time for sleeping before I get home and start on the housework.

It’s another ordinary enough day, just beginning. I breathe, exhale, and relax. There’s nothing much to comment on that hasn’t been said before. There are practices to practice. Results that will vary. Moments to enjoy. A path to walk. I watch daybreak slowly become dawn, then daylight. I take time to meditate and to reflect. Perspective is useful. The sound of the rain falling is peaceful. Yesterday was lovely, and busy, and I am tired in spite of a good night’s sleep. There’s much to do today in spite of fatigue. I’ve got a list. lol I think for a moment, looking over my list… and move “self-care” to the top.

It’s time to begin again.

It’s another icy morning. The fog is dense on the highway, and denser still on the trail, where it dips low towards the marsh and the river. Frosty ground is slick beneath my boots and branches and grasses sparkle white as my light passes over them. I’m thinking about hot coffee, grateful for warm gloves.

I won’t sit long at my halfway point. It’s too cold to write comfortably, and the fog obscures the view. It’s a work day, too, and timing matters.

I’m in a bad mood this morning. My Traveling Partner started my day with his annoyance over some small thing, and I didn’t need that on top of my tinnitus screeching in my ear and this fucking headache, and my arthritis. I keep trying to push past it. Move on. Let it go. It wasn’t my annoyance, after all. Pain sucks, though, and I’m cross about dealing with it. I’m hoping for a relaxed routine work day after a lovely holiday weekend.

I yawn in the cold morning air and see my breath mingle with the fog. It’s time to walk on. It’s time to start the day. It’s time to let small shit stay small and not take other people’s bullshit personally. It’s time to begin again.

I woke up feeling cross and headache-y. I rolled up the road in the foggy darkness after making coffee for my beloved Traveling Partner and putting out a fresh glass of water and some morning snacks for him to wake up to. Hopefully his night was better than mine. I get awfully annoyed with him when he’s stupidly cross or frustrated with me, particularly when it is over something I don’t have a lot of control over, or something that isn’t about me at all in any reasonable way. He’s human too, and recovering from a serious injury is difficult and frustrating on its own. That’s not made easier by the medications he is taking to ease this or that symptom. I remind myself often that it isn’t personal, that he’s doing his best, and that he loves me. Doesn’t always make it any easier to endure.

Last night he was pretty crabby, in general, and I was “over it” almost immediately. I have needs of my own, and I definitely didn’t feel supported, cared for, or held in high regard. Didn’t help that I hadn’t slept well the night before, and knowing that was true for him, too, I suspect poor sleep was the biggest piece of our shared experience. I called it a night early and tried to get the rest I needed. That was a mixed success and my night was interrupted and not ideally restful. I’ll get over it.

I remind myself not to be a jerk to people; I can’t really know what they’re going through, and most people mean well, and generally try to do their best. Choosing to do anything else than my own best, to treat people well and kindly, with patience and understanding, comes with real predictable consequences. I know that’s true in work, family life, and love. People have a finite amount of nastiness or disrespect that they’ll endure before they lash out or just walk away. That’s reasonable, too. There’s no need to put up with someone’s bullshit rudeness, mistreatment, or drama, at all – there are other (better) options.

I think about my behavior, and I think about my beloved’s behavior, too. We’re walking this path together out of love, and I’m grateful for this deep and enduring love we share – but I’m no fool; we both have options. There’s no reason either of us should settle for each other’s worst behavior, ever. We have a mutual obligation to each other (and to the love we share) to do our best every day. Sure, sometimes our results may vary, and human is human. Still, it’s worth the effort, and certainly if we give up making the effort, love will bear the consequences. That’s just real.

I sit in the pre-dawn darkness out on the marsh. The fog is dense this morning. My head aches and my tinnitus is louder than the traffic on the nearby highway. I sigh quietly and see the steam of my breath become part of the fog. The VA says I need hearing aids now. I guess I’m not surprised. I haven’t really processed that yet. I don’t know how much it really matters. I hope they’re easy to wear and use and that they help. It’s been frustrating to have to be face-to-face with my beloved to be certain of hearing what he’s saying to me, and it’s clearly been frustrating for him, too. The doctor suggested, kindly, that there’s a chance the tinnitus will seem less loud when I’m hearing voice frequencies at a normal volume once again. That’d be a nice change. I’m grateful for the chance to have this technology available. Pretty amazing.

I sit with my thoughts awhile. It’s a chilly morning. Thanksgiving tomorrow, and I’ve much to be grateful for. I focus on the gratitude. It’s pretty hard to feel annoyed and grateful at the same time. lol Useful cognitive trick.

I get to my feet. It’s time to begin again. I’ll do my best.