Archives for category: Washington Trails

I am slow to wake this morning. The alarm roused me, but I sat quietly for some minutes trying to understand why I was awake, and why the light was on. I have trudged through the morning so far, mostly spent looking over my camping plans for an upcoming weekend of beach camping spent meditating, walking, and observing the autumnal equinox, but not really getting anywhere with my thoughts; I haven’t any.

I notice my first coffee is nearly gone, and more than an hour of my precious limited lifetime too, and still I am not really awake. I add another item to my “to do list” for the upcoming weekend, which I plan to spend on quality of life improvements, generally, and housekeeping, tidying up, and things of that sort. A relaxed weekend of taking care of myself and my living space seems like just the thing to follow a weekend road trip.

I make another coffee. I make some oatmeal. I remind myself to start the dishwasher when I leave for the day. I wonder briefly when I will actually feel awake, and “why today?” I could so easily just go back to sleep… a rare thing for me. I find myself wishing it were already the weekend so that I could – also not my usual approach to morning. A loud irritated sigh punctuates the silence. I definitely need to begin this one again…but…where to start?

This is a very physical experience, so I begin in a physical place. I get up and stretch, and take some deep cleansing breathes, make my way to the kitchen and pour a big glass of water, and take a multi-vitamin. Oatmeal is my common breakfast, but it can’t be said to be nutritionally dense as it is. Coffee? Isn’t water. I walk from room to room drinking my water, and adding a few things to the list of planned weekend tasks. I make a point of being aware of my posture, and holding myself fully upright as I move through my space. I make a point of being aware of my breathing. Hell – I make a point of being aware.

…In time, being “aware” becomes being awake. Beginning again? It’s a thing we get to do, if we choose to do it. There are verbs involved. My results vary. Still… as often as I’d like to do so, I can begin again.

There were other things on my mind to write about as the evening ended last night. Oregon is burning. It’s sort of on my mind, you know? The air is hot, sort of humid or thick feeling in my lungs, and irritating to breathe. The smokey sky has worsened over the past two days, as has the fire in the gorge. I chuckle when I think of the POTUS awkward hurricane Harvey photo-op; I know he won’t be coming to Oregon to be pelted with rocks by black bloc protesters. For some reason, that makes me smile in spite of the terrible natural tragedy of the many wildfires destroying hundreds of thousands of acres of forest as days pass (at least one of which was caused by careless people who didn’t think the fire safety restrictions applied to them). This too will pass. The fires will dwindle, or burn out once their fuel source is consumed. The weather will change, as will the climate. The land will be re-seeded, and will bloom again. More likely than not, the Earth will survive us.

Will we? 

Isn’t that what we’re really all afraid of? It’s less about the Earth than it is about our own experience on it. Perhaps we are seeing the end of our human infestation on the Earth…? Grim thought. We could do better with our resources, with our conservatorship of this fragile singularly lovely world, and with each other. We could choose to save the world…

Will we begin again?

 

Everyone needs some down time now and then, and I’ll take some this weekend. A vacation more than an escape, and as much because I have the short-term convenience of having a car for the weekend – and there’s a meteor shower to see! I will be away, offline, in the trees, for a couple days. Back again soon. 🙂

We each have an idea of what feels peaceful. :-)

We each have an idea of what feels peaceful. 🙂

I hope you enjoy your weekend, whatever you choose to do with it. 🙂

I hadn’t really noticed I’d lost sight of ‘the future’ until I was inspired to plan on something a bit further along on my calendar – more than a year away. I’d been bouncing between past and present, working to hold myself firmly in the moment…and forgot about the future, more or less completely, which seemed odd once I noticed it.

I’m sipping my coffee this morning, feeling something sort of anxiety-ish, and recognized that I am actually excited, which is quite a different feeling. I find it hard to focus on things that matter less than this idea that hovers in the distance, still just a plan, and an intention. I am planning a solo hike in the Olympic National Park. I was inspired by a recent article about the quietest places that remain within reach, places where one can stand in stillness and not hear the sounds of humanity’s machines in the background. The Hoh Rainforest is one of them, apparently. I’m not sure the ‘where’ really matters at all. I could as easily be planning a solo hike in the Grand Canyon, or Death Valley, or the high desert of southern Oregon, or the Yukon wilderness…all remarkable places, all with wilderness within reach, all having that ‘remote’ quality that so often accompanies a sense of stillness. It is, rather obviously at the moment, the planning that matters most.

One detail of this fragile 'now'.

One detail of this fragile ‘now’.

There are actually quite a lot of places of beauty and wonder to see in the world. Seeing them before they are gone seems like a good idea. I’m not ready to do 2 weeks in the wilderness alone, quite yet, though – thus the valuable planning time, equipment testing time on shorter hikes and camping trips nearby, and study. Yes, I’ll actually be studying the trail, the history of the area, the local flora and fauna, reading trail reports from other hikers, looking at maps with great care, reading FAQs from the Forest Service… and daydreaming of a long long walk with a big big smile.

The map is not the world...

The map is not the world…

There’s a lot to consider. I enjoy the planning, and the anticipation, and the focal point on the horizon of my future…more than a year away. 15 miles down the trail would be a poor time to discover I forgot my bee sting kit… or didn’t break in my boots… or really can’t carry enough food for the trip… I’d rather get all of it worked out beforehand, as much as possible – to do literally my best planning to enjoy a great experience is the goal.

Small details sometimes have big impact.

Small details sometimes have big impact.

I had a notion to check on something small that matters to my self-care, and happily report that SuperBetter now has an Android app! I’ve been waiting for this – I’m not at my workstation at the best times/places to use SuperBetter most effectively. The Android app is a delightful upgrade there.

It’s funny that although all these things are important, something else that I finally understood more clearly soaked into my consciousness about communication, following a really enlightening conversation with my traveling partner yesterday morning before work. I hadn’t previously understood a basic concept of hierarchy in delivery of information that can be applied easily to spoken word, and although after-the-fact it seems odd that I hadn’t understood it (to the point of being vaguely embarrassing after more thought), it is an idea with power and value; deliver the highest level summary first. Answer the yes/no question with ‘yes’ or ‘no’. K.I.S.S. (Keep It Simple, Stupid). It’s the listener’s opportunity to engage, and that is the fundamental starting point of conversation, shared interest, and connection. I have long tended toward verbosity. You probably already know that. 😉 I am eager to see where this new understanding may take me, and how it may affect my relationships.

Today is a good day to arrive at a new starting point, and begin again. Today is a good day to consider the future, too. Today is a good day to plan a journey – don’t forget to bring a map! Today is a good day to remember that the map, however detailed, however lovely, however accurate it may seem, is not the world.