Archives for category: turning 60
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Time Will Crawl

May 12, 2024 //
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I’m taking a minute or two after finishing my walk, to sit with my thoughts awhile before moving on with the day. It’s Mother’s Day. I am thinking about my father, and trying to remember how old he was when he died… wasn’t that in 2003? 2002? I’m not certain, and it vexes me. He wasn’t “old”; he passed in his 60s. I didn’t find out when it happened, only after. Quite a bit after, actually. I wasn’t very close with my family at that time (even now, actually). I have a David Bowie song in my head… I don’t know why these are related, but I feel as if there’s some connection.

The sun rose orange, this morning. I stayed quite local, not that what trail I walk has much to do with anything. It’s just a detail.

Mt Hood in the distance.

Mother’s Day is a weird sort of holiday. Certainly mothers deserve to be celebrated, and supported, and also given some fucking help with things, and an occasional fucking day off. No question about any of that… but… if a woman with a child (or children) isn’t getting these things from her partner, family, community, or society, does a “Hallmark holiday” make up for that at all? Mother’s Day is bit like the “carbon offset credit” of holidays. A “get out of jail free” pass for not paying due regard to mothers and the difficulty of that work in the first place. Still, I’m not intending to piss in anyone’s punch bowl; enjoy it, Moms, you’re overdue for more and better. It’s tough exhausting work.

…Funny that I’m thinking of my Dad, though, and can’t remember any Mother’s Days, from my youth…

I’m 100% okay with not being a mother, myself, and don’t feel any loss over not being part of this “holiday”. Choices. I am glad I made the choices I made. They led me here.

Looks like another sunny summer-y day ahead. My Traveling Partner turned the outside water back on for the season, in spite of being injured still. I can’t quite reach the valve, myself. I think about the day ahead, and my list of things to do. Some of the stuff on my list is routine housekeeping, and gardening, and with my camping trip only 7 days away now, a few things to do with that are making  it to the list, too. I’m excited about that. I’m  hopeful that I’ll have no cause to leave the house after I return from my walk; it’ll be utter chaos “out there”, being Mother’s Day. Looks like a lovely Spring Sunday ahead…

…60 doesn’t “feel old” to me and I sit with that thought for awhile,  remembering my Granny at 60… my Mom… my Dear Friend… My perspective on age and aging has changed a lot over the years, as I’ve aged, myself. I  was in my 20s when my Granny was 60. I  was 40 when my Mother was 60. By the time my Dear Friend was 60, I was not quite 50. Time is catching up with me. lol 60 hasn’t really changed much…but my understanding of it sure has.

I’ll be 61 this year. I haven’t given it much thought. I have most of what I need in life, and a handful of pleasant luxuries besides. It’s a good life, and I am in a good place, and have to put real thought into it to come up with something to want “for my birthday”. Mostly I want my Traveling Partner to be sufficiently recovered to go out for a meal together, and maybe a drive in the countryside – perhaps a picnic lunch at a favorite spot, and some romance… something simple and ordinary.  Modest wholesome experiences of life and intimacy and a wee outing together would feel pretty lavish right now. Fuck, that actually sounds quite delightful! I surely won’t hold it against him if he’s not yet up for it. Sucks to deal with an unexpected injury and the time it takes to recover, but it can’t be rushed, and it’s something most people eventually deal with. We’re in it together and that matters so much more than any birthday gift could.

My camping trip feels like a birthday present to myself. It’s planned for a bit longer than I might typically go, and I’ll be geared up for “glamping” thanks to my Traveling Partner. I’m super excited about it.

What love looks like to me.

I sit smiling, thinking about love. The other day I came home from a manicure appointment with glittery aqua-blue nails. My partner commented that they were cute but didn’t go with anything else I generally wear. I laughed that off and pointed out the sweater I’d been wearing as close enough. Hardly an hour later he had 3D printed me a super cute pair of earrings that were an amazing color match for my nails. I feel so loved. Earrings are the only jewelry I wear, generally. He knows and cares, and loves making me smile. I’ve pretty much been wearing them ever since. lol It feels good to be so loved.

The moments tick by as the sun rises. It’s already time to begin again.

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

What’s Really Holding You Back?

May 11, 2024 //
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I’m sitting at the trailhead,  having just finished my walk. I feel relaxed, comfortable, and accomplished; 3 miles in one hour. This was an important bit of “backsliding” in my general fitness I was eager to overcome. It’s taken awhile and required a lot of persistence and new beginnings. My bad ankle generally begins to ache noticeably around one mile mark, these days. My fitness being what it has become, by the time I get myself two miles down a trail, my back is often aching, too. I still want to go on, but some days it’s hard to push past the inconvenience of my pain. I don’t want pain to make all my decisions and determine all my limits. I’ve got a lot of living still ahead of me at 60.

Sunrise on a misty morning.

When I headed down the trail, the sunrise had inflamed the morning horizon with fiery hues of peach and orange, and Mt Hood was silhouetted against that bold background, still and dark and large on the horizon. Every picture I took of that vibrant scene somehow diminished it. I stopped trying and just stood watching for a while.

Mists on the marsh.

As I crested a low hill near a favorite stopping point, the view of the marsh below, mists clinging to the meadow grasses and the water spread across my view. What a gorgeous morning to be on this trail! I  don’t have it all to myself this morning, and that’s not a surprise. Pleasant summery sort of morning on a Spring weekend? Of course there are other people here, most of them with fancy camera gear, heading to those favorite spots for capturing a view or for bird watching. Nice morning for it.

Lupines in bloom.

I pass by a hillside covered in lupines. The lupines in my garden are this same variety of wild lupines indigenous in this area. Mine are not yet blooming; they have more shade than these on this sunny hillside.

I  walk with my thoughts and my pain. I listen to the thoughts, and mostly disregard the pain. This pain, particularly,  has nothing much to teach me, beyond the resolve to overcome it. My thoughts on the other hand? My thoughts are as a playground for my spirit this morning. I walk and think, and consider the things in my life that may be holding me back, and what choices, changes, or practices could make the most positive difference…? The thinking, ideally, precedes the actions. lol I find value in self-reflection and “rational meditation”.

…In spite of the beauty of the morning, my thoughts this morning are mostly pretty practical…

The rising sun, a fitting metaphor.

As I turn back down the trail the way I came, I catch a glimpse of the rising sun. It illuminates the heights of the big oaks trees. I fill my lungs with the fresh morning air as I walk. The day ahead is filled with promise. The warmer weather is pleasantly encouraging, and I think about my upcoming camping trip. It would be nice if this weather continues.

…I think about getting into the garden…

I reach the car and notice the parking lot is quite full now for so early. I’m glad I took the less traveled trail! There’s new signage in the park, cautioning “no running” and “no dogging”… I chuckle, fairly certain that the intention is to indicate dogs are not allowed… but… “dogging” has a specific other meaning in English slang, and although I am certain that activity is also prohibited, I’m equally certain it’s not the intended meaning. lol

…What a lovely morning for new beginnings…

I feel the sun warm on my face. I sit sipping my coffee, listening to birdsong, and the traffic on the highway beyond the park. Loud voices of rude humans interrupt my reverie – maybe they’ll just go away? No. I  guess I will, then. lol

It’s time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, turning 60

Listening, Practicing

May 5, 2024 //
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It was early when I got to the trailhead. The rain started, again, as I arrived. It didn’t matter, since the gate was still closed. I sat quietly through the few minutes of waiting,  listening to the rain falling, meditating, waiting, drinking coffee I was grateful to have stopped for (what with the waiting and all).

The gate opens now at 05:30 a.m., and daybreak comes much sooner than it did just a few weeks ago. I move the car into the parking lot, up a hill from the couple of spaces outside the gate. It’s still raining, and I’m still waiting. I’m pretty good at waiting.

I sit with my coffee watching the dark rainy night slowly becoming a gray rainy morning, listening to the rain falling steadily,  drops tapping on the car. Surely there will be sufficient break in the rain to get a good walk in? I think it over, unperturbed by either potential outcome. I find my mind wandering to my upcoming camping trip and wondering if it will rain there, then, too? I’ll go prepared for it.

My head aches ferociously this morning. My arthritis is also quite painful. Head, neck, back… so much pain. I’m glad it’s Sunday. I can put more time and energy on self-care. There’s still laundry and dishes to do… no doubt other things I am overlooking for the moment. Still, it’s a gentle relaxed morning. I’m contented and pretty merry in spite of pain.

I start the car and give the windshield a swipe with the wipers; it sounds like the rain may have stopped, and I want to “take a closer look” before I get out of the car and put my boots on. It’s just a slow spattering of random occasional raindrops now,  suitable for walking…

Once my boots are on, I step onto the gravel trail with a crunch. It’s time to begin again!

A lush and rainy Spring morning

I get back to the car a bit damp, after getting a mile down the trail, and turning back when the rain began falling more steadily, again. The trail along the marsh and riverbank is scented by blooming trees and wildflowers. The rain contributes petrichor and that certain specific freshness of a rainy day. No flocks of geese overhead, but the robins don’t mind the rain, and busily went about the business of finding tasty morsels in the leaf matter and muddy ground along the trail. They watch me as curiously as I watch them.

As I change my boots for sneakers, I think about the day ahead. Already another “benchmark day”, and I have been looking forward to it. Seems a good one for tidying up, too, or helping my Traveling Partner with his projects. Maybe both? I’m not rushing to return home; I know my partner is sleeping and likely had a restless night. I am making a point of giving him time to get some restful sleep before I return home and start making noise. (We’re both fairly light sleepers, prone to being a bit noise-sensitive.)

I sit quietly, contentedly listening to the rain fall, before I begin again… again.

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Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, turning 60, weight loss secrets

Benchmarks and Milestones

April 28, 2024 //
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I’m paused on the trail. I arrived just as the park gates opened, put on my boots and got started down the trail moments after daybreak. The trail was still quite dim and I have it to myself, even now. I  set a good pace, and at my planned turnaround point (a riverfront viewpoint) I stopped to catch my breath and write. It’s a cool morning, but not so chilly that my fingers would struggle with my phone. I’m warmed through from the walk.

My night was wakeful and not especially restful after my Traveling Partner woke me up. I don’t remember why he woke me, only that it was difficult to get back to sleep, and my sleep was interrupted with wakeful moments and anxious dreams from then until morning. Less than ideal. He left me a sweet and kind apology note, which I saw when I woke. I’m okay. Not mad or cranky about it,  just not well-rested. Maybe a nap later…?

…There are nutria playing along the riverbank. I watch them awhile…

It’s a gray rainy looking morning. There’s laundry to do. Vacuuming. Salad greens in the garden are looking good, and I consider carefully harvesting enough of the more mature outer leaves for a salad for breakfast after I return home. It’s Sunday…

Today is a “benchmark day”. Time to take my next dose of Ozempic, do my weigh-in, and take a couple pictures of progress-to-date. This is my 4th shot. This is also the first time I’ve ever approached fitness and weight-loss from a perspective of actual eagerness and confidence, since I was  bodybuilding in the 80s. It helps to see the progress, and as with so many things, the progress is often only visible if I’m really looking for it. So, the meal tracking, weigh-ins, and weekly progress photos serve to help me see the reality of my subjective experience. I found myself actually excited to get to Sunday, my “benchmark day”, more and more as the week progressed, and here I finally am.

…I am curious about the outcome…

Life is full of benchmarks and milestones. Celebrating those, big and small, has real value, and amazing potential to lift us up – or “set us straight” about where we are on a given journey. I  sigh contentedly,  sitting in this place, listening to the birds, and the river as it flows by. It’s a beautiful morning and I made it to this goal, this lovely place to sit with my thoughts, in good time. That’s another piece of my fitness journey; overcoming my pain, and mobility issues, to “go further, faster”. I’m pleased to be back to being comfortable with 2.5 miles. I’m eager to reach 3… then 5… I’m counting on practice and incremental change over time. I know this works.

I’m grateful that I’m still walking.

A bit of daylight breaks through the clouds. It’s time to head back down the trail to other moments and beginnings…

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, turning 60, weight loss secrets

Clocks and Calendars

April 2, 2024 //
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It’s quiet early, but daybreak arrived before I finished my commute into the city. I’m sipping my coffee and watching the sun rise from the office. The big windows, and this corner seat, give me an amazing view of the changing colors of the sky. Looks like another sunny Spring day ahead. I smile to myself, enjoying the coffee and this moment.

A glance at the calendar reminds me it’s a short countdown to my next wee getaway to the coast for some solo time. I’m surprised that I’ve needed so many short breaks to maintain my emotional wellness over the past six months or so, but when I reflect on that, I guess it isn’t so surprising. I’ve had a job change, my Traveling Partner has had an injury (some months ago, now) that has required my continued assistance and support, as well as the picking-up-of-slack resulting from his reduced ability to do things around the house when I’m working (or, generally) while he recovers, and more recently the loss of a dear friend hit me hard – right in the emotions. So, okay, I need a bit of a break from life and routine and… effort. Not so surprising at all. I’m fortunate that I can take the break I need. I’m even more fortunate that my partner supports my doing so, and more generally supports my commitment to self-care (and has, himself, a personal commitment to my wellness as well as his own).

Calendar and clock remind me of all the many details of a planned work day. I sigh to myself, already chafing at the constraints of time and planning. The clock never stops ticking; what we do about that is what matters. I know I need a day or two without feeling “chased by time“, and I’m eager to enjoy a couple days of … no agenda. No plan. No specifics. Just sleeping, waking, breathing, and being. Meditating without a timer. Napping without checking whether it makes any sense to nap right then. Reading because it’s what I feel like doing in that moment. Walking on the beach without a goal or destination. Eating meals based on whim or curiosity without being concerned about what anyone else likes. Seeking awe in small details of the world around me, without chasing any particular experience or satisfying any expectations. Giving up the structure and routine of day-to-day life for a couple days, in favor of savoring each moment of existence as something of a personal adventure in leisure and relaxed joy.

…Oh, damn, that sounds soooo good…

In the meantime, I am counting down the hours with an eye on the clock and the calendar. There are things to do before I leave, and things to do to prepare to go, and … just things to do that need to be done. All very commonplace stuff, and nothing to be stressed about. No reason any of it should “weigh me down” or create a feeling of pressure… sometimes it does, though. Adulthood requires us, individually, to keep track of a lot of fucking details. This morning it was a gentle reminder from my Traveling Partner that I’d said I’d take the glass bottles on the counter to be returned or recycled, and hadn’t yet done so. Routine shit and I honestly just forgot; they’d become invisible to me sitting there, unless I was standing right there making coffee. Just a small detail that needed attention. They add up. I make lists. I do my best to keep on top of all the shit that wants doing. lol It’s a very human experience and my results vary.

The medical appointment that was stressing me out so badly was… fine. Productive. Useful. Promising. I’ve got to make some changes to medications I’m taking, and I’ll start a new one at the end of the weekend (yes, Ozempic), after I come back from the coast. I’m hopeful that small changes in treatment will result in big improvements in wellness – there are still verbs involved, and I’m not allowing myself to become overly eager and wantonly encouraged by the temptation of improvement in the form of a prescription; I’ve still got to do my part to skillfully manage my calories, the nutritional quality of the food I eat, the exercise I get, and on and on – details. Details that add up. I raise my cup to the sky, toasting the value of incremental change over time. I finish my coffee, and begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, turning 60, weight loss secrets
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