Archives for category: Uncategorized

I’m watching the sun rise from my halfway point on my morning walk. It’s not exactly chilly, and today will likely be another hot one, but I am grateful to have worn this fleecy long-sleeved top. I’m comfortable as I sit here.

I made a point to have an expectation-setting conversation with the Anxious Adventurer yesterday evening. It went decently well, although I am certain I’ll be needing to reinforce a lot of very basic stuff with my well-intentioned (but sometimes surprisingly ignorant) stepson. It’s a process. Growth happens over time with persistence, patience, and practice.

It was clear some of what I had to say was hard for the Anxious Adventurer to hear in the moment. I felt for him; it’s a lot to learn and grow into when we uproot ourselves from what we know to embrace something entirely new. I’m sitting and thinking about two important things he communicated to me during our conversation. Firstly, he is suffering from a ton of self-loathing, which is sad to hear (a lot of us have had to deal with it, ourselves). He’s a rather human assortment of good intentions and poor decision making that seems pretty ordinary, really. Nothing especially hateful or disappointing. He added the second point, which is that he doesn’t have a sense of who he would ideally like to be, and that he lacks a clear picture of what that could look like (or what it would require to achieve). Rough. How does a person go from “here” to “there” without a sense of some sort of general direction to go?

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I take a moment to feel grateful for my sense of self, and my sense of purpose.

I sit with my thoughts and consider what tools and practices brought me face to face with the woman in the mirror, and allowed me to begin building a clearer picture of the person I most wanted to be. I think about the conversations and self-reflection involved in eventually learning to be my own best friend, to be the first one to really listen to myself, reliably, and to embrace the person I am as actually worthy. It’s been years of practice, of self-care and self-reflection, and of therapy… I can (and do) encourage the Anxious Adventurer to seek therapy, definitely. There’s so much of this fairly mundane shit that he could so easily work through himself, it’s hard to know where to begin with a suggestion… (I’m no therapist). I do dislike seeing my stepson suffer, but realistically he’s the one who has to do the verbs here. No map. No user’s manual. Life is messy and sometimes complicated. Being human can be so difficult to do well.

What matters most?

How did I get from there to here?

What practices are most likely to produce quick encouraging results?

How can I most helpfully foster growth and appropriate behavior without undermining the Anxious Adventurer’s agency or taking on work he needs to do for himself?

What exercises in meditation and self-reflection can I recommend that will help him understand his lived values, select the values he wants to live with real care, and sort out who he most wants to be?

I sit awhile longer with my thoughts and my questions. Soon enough it’ll be time to head back to the car and start a whole new week. My Traveling Partner’s surgery is now only a week away. There’s a lot going on in life. It’s a bit chaotic and rather demanding to adult at the required level. S’ok, I’ve got practices for this. It’s just a peculiarly busy time.

Most of the time, things are pretty ordinary.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. This morning’s sunrise wasn’t much to talk about, but it’s a new day nonetheless. There are practices to practice, and it’s time to begin again. I get to my feet with a sigh, straightening my stiff legs, and hit “upload” before I walk on…

Rain fell during the night. The morning air when I stepped out into the predawn darkness was fresh and humid. The days are already noticeably shorter. Daybreak came and went, revealing stormy clouds that threaten the possibility of thunderstorms.

The first hint of a new day.

I put on my boots at the trailhead, my mind on my walk, my heart feeling light, and hoping that my Traveling Partner got a second night of really restful sleep after a change to his medication. These human bodies are so fragile and complicated, and lack a proper user’s manual.

Yesterday was a good day, productive and sufficiently restful to feel as if I got a bit of a break from the grind. Most of my day was spent supporting the Anxious Adventurer, sorting out his vehicle needs for work, and getting his hoopty sold and out of the way. Easy but time-consuming. I was glad I had gone to the store earlier, and that I had a plan for lunch. The day lasted well-past when I might usually go to bed, but we were having a good time hanging out together, and I went with it. There’s been stress and worry and struggle aplenty lately, and it was good to just enjoy a few moments together.

… I still woke up at 4 a.m. LOL

The stormy sky this morning delights me, as the luminous pink of an unseen sunrise shifts with the clouds. I snap a few shots, thinking about those pastels. Maybe today I’ll spend some time painting?

Like thoughts, shifting.

I walked the trail thinking my thoughts and listening to the passing geese overhead. The air smells like it may rain again. I sit at my favorite spot along the trail and listen carefully. Was that thunder? Makes sense that it could be.

… Definitely thunder…

I think about the day ahead. There are things to do to prepare for the week, and next weekend will see me heading down the highway to the coast for a couple days. I’m eager to go, knowing my Traveling Partner won’t be left home alone this time. That’s very reassuring.

My mind wanders. I don’t stop it. I let my thoughts drift as I drink in the fresh air, and this quiet calm moment. It’s such a small thing, but this is an important self-care practice for me, to simply sit quietly and be for some little while. No criticism or doubt, no negative self-talk or worry, just a few quiet minutes as my thoughts drift by like summer storm clouds. I am awake, aware, and grateful. I breathe, exhale, and relax, listening to the sound of distant thunder.

A fat, warm, unexpected rain drop hits my face, and then another, and another. Will it actually rain? Maybe. Maybe not. The “maybe” is enough to put my mind on finishing my walk, so I finish my thoughts, finish my writing, and prepare to begin again.

Human primates are peculiar. I got so thoroughly involved in my delightful morning, yesterday, I completely forgot about my physical therapy appointment, which was planned to be my next stop after my walk. Instead, I went home and began enjoying my lovely morning further, with my Traveling Partner and the Anxious Adventurer. lol Costly mistake; the clinic phoned me to ask if I was “on my way”… Nope. Miles away, content at home. The caller politely reminded me I would be charged for the missed appointment. I replied that I understood and moved on with the delightful day, and spent it in relatively little pain.

It was a very pleasant and thoroughly relaxing morning. I enjoyed it. I spent much of the day exploring my new pastels, and reading, and some little bit on grocery shopping and helping my partner with this and that. I got some of the rest I have needed so badly.

Today there is laundry to do and errands to run, and housekeeping, but having some help is already significantly lightening the load and I face the day with real joy and enthusiasm. I sigh contentedly, sitting here by the side of the trail, at an”halfway point” I like that has a comfortable spot to sit down for a few minutes. The sunshine is warm on my back. The morning is mild and not yet hot, (but I can feel that it will get there again today). It’s summer, sure, but I can easily remember summers being cooler in this part of the Pacific Northwest than they tend to be now. I frown for a moment thinking about how thoroughly we’ve fucked up this planet. We could do better. It may be too late…

A beautiful morning in a beautiful place.

I think over my list of things to do and add some small tasks that make big differences. I’ve got more to offer, today, and I feel rested and strong. Funny how much difference the thought of having help makes. I don’t feel the need to plan ahead for exhaustion at the end of the day.

I sit awhile with my thoughts, watching the light through the trees change as the sun rises. I watch and wonder how I would capture the qualities of light and the various hues of green with my pastels. I feel content and centered. I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s a good beginning for a new day.

I slept well and deeply through the night. I woke some time past when I’d usually be planning to be out the door, and more than an hour later than usual. It is unusual for me to “sleep in”, and having planned to be up and out for a walk early, I rushed through waking up and getting dressed, as if trying to reestablish a sense of expected timing, though it’s Saturday and that just isn’t necessary for any reason, today.

I left the house quickly, quietly, and forgetting that I had committed to taking my Traveling Partner’s truck instead of my car, and made myself pause, double back, and grab the other keys and start the journey over again. I wasn’t at all inconvenienced by that; I’m just going up the road to get a walk in.

The drive was pleasant. No traffic. Beautiful sunrise. The sky was a luminous hazy cotton-candy pink and the mountains on the distant horizon faded into the background as the sun rose, a vibrant orange. I drove wonder-struck and carefree, happy to have this moment.

We’ve been working hard at home to get the Anxious Adventurer moved in, and things sorted out for maximum comfort and shared convenience. Yesterday’s arrival of beds (which wasn’t without mishaps) signaled the end of the most intensive work and the multitude of changes that needed a “sooner than later” approach, and the most shared focus and coordination. My Traveling Partner suggested over dinner that we all take it easy and rest and recover, this weekend. Seems wise, and I am approaching the day with that in mind.

A beautiful summer morning.

I’ve had the trail to myself this morning. Another unexpected delight. What a splendid morning! I found a pleasing spot to sit for a moment with my thoughts and write a few words. Later I’ll stop by the store on my way home. There’s no hurry. I’m relaxing and taking it easy. 😁

Sometimes life is complicated, unpleasant, difficult, and a lot to manage. Sometimes life is easy. It’s important to enjoy – and savor – those easy moments, and to “fill up” on them. Doing so makes the difficult bits a bit less difficult and less likely to be overwhelming, or feel like they are “everything”.

I smile and sigh. I’m barely aware of my tinnitus or my pain in the background. It’s a beautiful morning, and a beautiful moment. I brush the dirt off my jeans as I stand up. Time to hit “publish” on this, and walk on. It’s time to begin again.

Enjoying the moment is so worthwhile. Beginning again is so necessary.

I slept well in spite of the noise of fireworks going off well into the night. I woke occasionally and quickly sank back into sleep. I woke up at my usual early hour, no alarm set at all. I rose, dressed, and slipped away quietly into the early light of a summer dawn.

It’s a lovely morning. The sunrise began with streaks of peach and pink clouds across a hazy mostly clear sky. It’s going to be hot today.

I find myself straddling past moments of recollection and future moments of speculation, in this pleasant quiet “now”. The paved portion of this trail is quiet beneath my feet. Small birds explore the weeds and grass for tasty bits as I walk past. The air feels soft on my skin and I hear the sound of distant traffic… and my tinnitus. Squirrels play, chasing each other up and down and around the trunks of trees along the trail. I breathe and walk.

… Summer…

I let my thoughts wander freely as I walk. My Traveling Partner’s surgery is scheduled. I’m not fretting over that; I’m hopeful. Grateful. Eager to see him well (repaired?). I’m thinking ahead to getting some real downtime, sometime beyond the most critical recovery time immediately following his surgery. I’m eager to have a few days alone, spent on creative work and solitary reflection, unconstrained by the requirements of caregiving and service to hearth and home. I’m tired frankly, and any rest I get and all the resilience I can build, have been almost immediately consumed by the next need, week after week, for months. I’m not even complaining; I have been needed and also appreciated. My Traveling Partner has shown me great consideration, love, and gratitude, and I have no resentment in my heart. I’m just tired and eager for him to be himself at 100% again.

I don’t yet have anything specific in mind. Camping? A hotel holiday on the coast? A trip to some glittering metropolis? A quiet stay in some remote bed and breakfast? A stay at some monastery that hosts retreats? “Spin the wheel” and just show up at the airport or train station and grab the next cheap seat to somewhere at random and figure it out when I get “there”? Options.

Rather unrealistically, I want to be sitting in my Granny’s kitchen on a lazy summer morning, listening to the sound of seabirds and the tides changing along the marshy edge of Mine Creek. I’d like to make a cup of fairly terrible drip coffee and pour it over ice, and take it out to the porch, with my pastels and my sketchbook, and while away the cool morning painting landscapes of the shore along Frenchtown Rd. My heart aches for qualities of peace and serene beauty and the joy of solitary moments I don’t find often these days. The world is complicated and messy, as are human beings with their violence and villainy, their petty deceits and corruption. Peace is sometimes hard to find, and difficult to cultivate. I feel momentarily homesick for places that no longer exist outside my memory, and a bit lonely for people dear to me who are gone now.

… Strangely sentimental morning…

The sky is a brilliant clear blue as I finish this bit of writing. The morning is beginning to warm up already. It’s time to head back up the trail to the car, and back to the house to start the work day. I sigh to myself and remember to take my morning medication. It’s already time to begin again…