Archives for category: Spring
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Green On Gray

May 15, 2025 //
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Cloudy morning. The deep dark green of the oaks dressed in Spring foliage dominate the view as I set off down the trail this morning. My head is full of vaguely grim musings, like “how many more sunrises?” And whether or not human life is sustainable on this planet at all, or how many idiots it takes to destroy democracy as astonished others watch it fall? My head aches. I woke with the headache and my tinnitus loud in my ears. I walk anyway.

Oaks along a well-maintained local trail, on s gray Spring morning.

It’s a workday. For some reason I feel cross and moody every time I think about my upcoming birthday. I don’t know what to do about my moody bullshit, but I guess I know more or less where it comes from. Change. I feel childish and stupidly emotional over it. Change is, and there are much more serious things going on in the world to be moody about than the details vexing me now. I’m just still dealing with it, I guess.

In spite of making tremendous progress recovering from his injury and the surgery that followed, my Traveling Partner, my beloved, is still healing, adapting, and working to recover skills and mobility that were lost or impaired. (We made dinner together last night and it was wonderful to see him back in the kitchen, cooking!) I’m incredibly impressed and proud of him for the sheer will and commitment he’s shown. I know how hard it is; I’ve been there (though I was in my 20’s when I broke my back, and that’s a very different age to deal with such a thing). So I want to be clear about my angsty nonsense; it’s not about him, or in fact about the current circumstances. Not really.

Love matters most.

I catch myself thinking about my 60th birthday. We’d just gotten the Ridgeline, and we were happily purposeful and excited, and eagerly exploring the local wilds together. The physical intimacy in our relationship was connected, deep, and joyful, and we “had the house to ourselves”. Him getting hurt wasn’t even on our radar. A year later, my birthday was mostly caregiving and preparing for his surgery with him, and doing the needful to help the Anxious Adventurer relocate to move in and give us a hand with all that, whatever he could while also building a life here for himself and working. Then another 6 months or so of crazy intense caregiving that exhausted me and pushed me to limits I didn’t know I have, before my beloved really started to “be himself” again. I’m not complaining. I’m just saying that these are the circumstances and changes that brought me to this weird and moody place, facing a birthday I mostly wouldn’t care much about under other circumstances. 62? Not even a milestone (and I don’t “feel old”, generally speaking, in spite of chronic pain). I just have feelings. Very human. I don’t know what to do with or about this particular birthday. I simultaneously ache with poignant feelings of loss and strange regrets, and also don’t give a fuck and want to put it behind me.

I have planned taking the week after my birthday off work, but I have no actual plans. It’s just all really weird and the emotions have piled on, and I’m having trouble sorting myself out. It’s annoying.

“Emotion and Reason” 18″ x 24″ acrylic w/ceramic and glow details, 2012

I breathe, exhale, and relax. There’s so much to appreciate and to be grateful for. I focus on that as I sit at my halfway point, writing and reflecting. Things could be much worse. Change is, and this too will pass. I can count on that. lol I will find small joys to help me past blue moments. The clock will tick on, regardless. A week off spent sleeping in, painting, and puttering in my garden, reading books, and walking local trails, is time well-spent and needs no elaborate planning at all. It’s even enough, truly. Ah, but I do have these feelings, and the way out is reliably through – so I give myself room to experience and process my emotions, without taking them personally. Just feeling the feelings and reflecting on those. They’ll pass. They’re only emotions after all, not truths, not requirements, just their own sort of experience. I give myself a break and let them come and go like gray clouds on a Spring morning; yes, they appear to cover the entire sky, but they will move on, and there is blue sky beyond.

… Clouds make a nice metaphor for emotions…

I smile to myself. I’m okay for most values of “okay”, and this is a good life. I am indeed fortunate. Emotions are so very human. I sigh and chuckle to myself as I get to my feet and stretch. This path won’t walk itself. There are practices to practice and the clock ticks on. It’s time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, grief, health, Healthy Living, loneliness, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being

Perspective & Reminders

May 14, 2025 //
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I woke up slowly this morning, slipping gradually from strange distressing dreams of poverty, privation, and desperate futile “choices”. My dreams were anxious and restless. I dreamt of drinking terrible coffee on a sweltering morning, sitting on the edge of broken second-hand patio furniture – no AC, windows thrown wide to non-existent breezes through the night, hoping for a moment of cooler temperatures. I dreamt fretfully of having to choose between paying the electric bill and buying food, and of having to choose between filling a prescription or putting gas in an unreliable car. Would it even start next time I needed it? I dreamt of times gone by, and times I’ve never lived but recognize to be within the realm of possibility in a human lifetime. I dreamt of being in my final years, without means, without partnership, alone and deeply concerned about seeing another sunrise. I squinted at the rising sun in my dreams, anxious, then woke slowly to the lights coming on in my room, here, now, okay. Fucking hell. I’m not sure I’d call my dreams “nightmares” – there was no terror, really, only sorrow, and despair, and trying to so hard to make something of nothing last long enough to be… enough. My dreams were drenched in the anxiety of effort and insufficiency – and even in my dreams I found myself trying to find the best of it, to find the small joys in that dismal existence, sitting quietly with my coffee watching the sun rise. It wasn’t enough – but I felt some tiny fragment of hope and clung to it desperately.

…Fucking hell. I definitely do not need more nights like that…

Still, I sip my (relatively shitty) cup of coffee this morning, thinking about luck, circumstances, good fortune, and how very hard a person can work at life, at trying to provide for their family, at trying to live well within limited means – and how easy it is to fail at all of that, anyway. People get mired in despair because life can be hard. Very hard. Sometimes it not only seems like there is “no way out” – it may even be true in some limited sense. Rough. Sometimes doing better or “finding our way” requires really difficult decision-making, or even what feels like a complete “do-over”. Scary. None of that is easy. You know what is easy? Being a jerk to people when you do not know, or can not understand, what they are going through. Super easy to be a raging asshole, lacking in compassion and consideration. (For a choice bad example, we need only look to Congress trying to pass a budget.) Maybe don’t do that, though, right? Just don’t be a jerk to people.

Simple joys are worth savoring and it doesn’t take much effort to be kind.

It’s a good morning to reflect with gratitude on my good fortune, and where I am in life right now. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I embrace the quiet somewhat rainy looking morning with a measure of joy; I am not in that place where my dreams placed me. I’m not wealthy (not even “affluent”). I have enough to meet my basic needs. My Traveling Partner and I are comfortable together, managing life together. We provide for each other; it’s likely neither of us would be in the same place in life without each other. I smile thinking of the cute 3D printed earrings I am wearing this morning – he made them for me. That he made them with me in mind matters so much more than their intrinsic value. They’re plastic – super cute and I love them. Diamonds could not ever please me on the same level at all – their cold sparkle would only remind me of what I don’t have and can’t (or have not) achieved. They would exist to say something to someone else, and I would wear them only to “make a statement” – and one which I don’t personally feel moved to make. I’m not competing with the world. I’m walking my own path. I don’t aspire to diamond jewelry – only to loving and being loved, living well (within our limited means), and finding joy in a life that is enough. But that’s me. You do you, I guess. 😀

Who are you? What do you really want out of life? Where does your path lead? You will become what you practice – what are you practicing?

My mind wanders. I reflect awhile on how best to avoid being a jerk to people (even when I’m tired, or in pain, or aggravated by something). So many people suffering, doing what they can with too little, just trying to get by… I think awhile on being kind, being considerate, demonstrating concern and compassion, and how best to be the woman I most want to be. “Being and becoming” seems to be a long, sometimes rather slow journey from the greed and demanding inconsiderate foolishness of childhood to … something else. Something better, ideally, something practiced and thoughtful, and patient, and wise, and… fuck I’ve got work to do on this “being my best self” stuff! So many negative examples out there in the world, too – I know who I don’t want to be. I know how I don’t want to behave. I guess it is a starting point, eh?

The clock is ticking, but there’s time to begin again. Do better. You have choices.

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Categories 2024 Election, Allegories, anger, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, Free Will, gratitude, joy, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Spring, The Art of Being, War and News of War

Something About a Change of Perspective

May 13, 2025 //
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My ears are ringing like crazy this morning. I focus my attention on the sound around me, and the songs of early morning birds (mostly robins). I listen to my steps as I walk the paved section of trail near home. I am walking westward. The sky is gray, densely cloudy, and the air smells of recent rain.

I squint at the newly planted section of vineyard alongside the trail, as I approach it. Something red is blooming at ground level, and I can’t quite make out the grape vines in the gloomy early light. Red clover? Vetch? Last year this was meadow (or fallow fields), and I reflect on the feeling I had the first day I came to this trail after the meadow had been plowed under and replaced by vineyard.

One perspective of many possible perspectives.

Here and there wild blackberries encroach on the edges of the vineyard. They aren’t the native sort, they’re an invasive non-native. The blackberries themselves are tasty nonetheless, but it will be many weeks before blackberries dangle ripe from the thorny canes. I walk past some wildflower blooming – or is it a weed? So close to the planted vineyard, I guess it’s very much a matter of perspective. I walk past reflecting on that.

Wildflower or weed?

Breathe, exhale, relax, and keep walking. I am having my own experience, walking my own path, and quietly enjoying this gray rainy morning.

… The clock is ticking…

I pause at my halfway point and sit for a few minutes, listening to the sound of geese overhead and distant traffic. Breathe, exhale, relax. My tinnitus is still pretty bad, but it’s no longer dominating my attention. There is forest around me and I can hear the nearby creek bubbling past. A small brown bird stops near me, hopping here and there in the grass at the edge of a the trail.

This is a lovely quiet morning, suitable for walking. I get to my feet and begin again.

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, War and News of War, weight loss secrets, Words

Gray and Dreary

May 12, 2025 //
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Well, that’s Mother’s Day behind me, already – “the year is nearly half over”, I think to myself, sipping my coffee and looking out the office window on a dreary gray morning. “At least it isn’t cold, too”, I add as an afterthought.

It was a lovely weekend spent in the good company of my Traveling Partner. I ended up letting most of the housekeeping and whatnot just fall by the wayside, to be handled another day. I kept the kitchen tidy, did a couple chores and errands that really couldn’t wait, and enjoyed time with my beloved. Time well-spent, no regrets – we don’t live for housework, we do the housework in order to live well. Sometimes there are better choices. 😀

In memory of a Dear Friend, a quiet corner of the garden.

I did manage to get into the garden a bit, which was lovely, and I planted a couple tomato plants to replace the ones the deer ate to ground a few days ago. A rose in my “memory garden” is blooming, and I found some cute beaded decorations to add there (I think my Dear Friend would have enjoyed the whimsy of these, and their colorful sparkle). More than any of that, as delightful as it was (and is), I am enjoying the recollection of time spent at my Traveling Partner’s side. Video games, 3D print projects, just hanging out, enjoying meals together, and getting some useful coaching from my beloved on the new solar hydro mini-garden (which will be planted very soon, so I needed to know how to mix the nutrients for that, and he has so much more experience); it was a delightful weekend.

An old favorite is blooming early. “Nozomi”

I love seeing the roses begin to bloom. It’s a lovely time in the garden. The curry plant is covered in buds, too, and some of the lavender is as well. The strawberries have actual berries beginning to ripen, and still more blossoms. The romaine is thriving, and I had radishes enough to serve with a meal this weekend. I even boldly planted a couple of hardy smallish varieties of fig in large pots this weekend, hoping they do sufficiently well to be planted into the garden somewhere, in a year or two (they’re pretty wee, at this point, and likely to be inadvertantly mowed or stepped on). I love “edible landscape”, particularly in hard times. Such things give me a feeling of security and stability, and “good living”, and I definitely benefit from feeling that these days. I can’t do much (or, really, anything) about the crazy terrible bullshit going on in Washington DC, beside simply not succumb to terrible behavior, myself, and I find having “hope” available to see and feel in my day-to-day life makes enduring the bullshit going on elsewhere just a little less fraught with despair. It’s a small thing, this small garden, but the return on my time and effort is huge.

A wee fig sapling, getting a start in a pot.

I sip my coffee grateful for my good fortune, and grateful for my good partnership, my pleasant home, my good job – I know things could be much worse (and that for many many people they very much are). I breathe, exhale, and relax. There are verbs involved, and I have to do my part, but there’s also a large measure of “luck”, “good fortune”, and circumstance that I get value from, and should not take for granted. Circumstances can change. So, I make a point of holding space for gratitude, and this morning’s gray and dreary backdrop to the day is a handy reminder that things could be worse. I sigh quietly to myself. I look fondly at the desk organizer and wee desktop waste recepticle my Traveling Partner made for me, and grin happily to myself. I feel very loved.

…Suddenly I am missing my beloved most ferociously, as if he were very far away, or it had been some long time since we last embraced. lol Strange to love to fiercely, and so enduringly. We are, afterall, just humans being human. My reflection smiles back at me in the window. I am fortunate to be so well-loved.

I’ve got a nice moment on which to begin a new day, right here, now. I look over my email, my task list, my day plan, and remind myself of phone calls I need to make, an appointment I’ve got later in the afternoon, and think briefly about what to do about dinner, although it is too soon to give it much thought. Another sigh. Another smile. Another moment. The clock is ticking, and it’s time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, Healthy Living, joy, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, Roses, Spring, The Art of Being, War and News of War

Gray, Rainy, Moody

May 11, 2025 //
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Just as I reached the trailhead the rain began. It’s not falling hard, but steadily. I waited a few minutes before yielding to the practical details of walking in the rain, and just did the thing. Boots, cane, rain poncho: I’m ready for it, so why not? My aching back yesterday is no surprise now; my arthritis reliably responds to specific changes in the weather. I ache today, too, and I am cross and moody, even out on the trail.

I started walking, and kept walking until I returned to the car, not soaked but finding myself struggling with pain and irritability. Less than ideally pleasant as morning walks go, and more a matter of will and practice than delight. It’s okay. There’s nothing really wrong and this crappy mood will pass.

Tedious discussion of health stuff follows, skip this next paragraph if it’s “tmi”!

I breathe, exhale, and relax. It is “shot day”. Sunday is the day I’ve set for my weekly Ozempic shot and my weigh-in. Actual weight loss progress is very slow now after an initial 8 months or so of fairly steady losses. Here’s the thing though; I’m using it to control other health conditions and it’s doing that exceedingly well (I’ve been able to discontinue medications aside from my thyroid and pain medication). I’m continuing strength training, and building muscle (heavier than fat) along with having gotten very near the weight my current caloric intake supports means it’s harder to change the number on the scale – but that’s an inadequate measure of health improvements overall, and I try not to fret over it. Instead I seek to walk further, faster, and to continue to advance my weight training (ideally without injury). I consider additional calorie reduction, at this point it’s probably necessary. I’m not unhappy with my progress, generally, just saying that the Ozempic is not a magic trick, a cheat code, or a guarantee of getting to a size 6 again. It’s just a tool and a means of dealing with my problematic blood sugar that happens to also improve my health in a number of ways.

I check the grocery list. Practical stuff, and healthy foods and ingredients, nothing to trim from the list, it’s all good stuff. It’s easier to commit to healthy eating when everyone in the house is in on it. I’m fortunate in that regard. It still requires practice, and attention to details – and a measure of will and impulse control.

I sigh to myself and think about my birthday in June. What sort of “birthday cake” might I enjoy? Cheesecake? A fruit tart? Something creamy? Something light? Definitely not chocolate – too rich, and too dense, it’s just not my favorite. Something fruity might be nice… Something not too dreadfully sweet. Sugar isn’t so appealing these days. Maybe something subtle and a little “fancy”? Lemon-y and spongey and creamy with a hint of lavender or blueberries? Something like that might be nice… but I’d probably be the only one enjoying that. lol My thoughts wander on… and I’m feeling less irritated just indulging the thought of birthday desserts. Human beings are strange creatures.

Looks like it may be a cloudy, rainy day all day. I guess I’m okay with that; there’s considerable housekeeping to do today. I smile to myself thinking about the two small hardy fig plants I planted in large pots yesterday. Eventually I may put them in the ground, if they are truly suited to our climate, but I don’t yet know where. It’ll be a couple years before it really matters, and I’m delighted to have the figs in my garden; I’ve wanted fig trees or bushes since my first garden. It’s to do with a lovely memory of my Granny and my first experience of fresh from the tree sun-warmed figs. I smile. Pleasant memories are a beautiful mood-lifter.

I frown a little impatiently at the foreboding gray sky. I guess it’s time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Practices, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being
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