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The Path We Choose

November 3, 2025 //
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It is early morning on an ordinary Monday. I’m awake, and feeling as if I’d slept in, but that’s more to do with the end of Daylight Savings Time than anything else. I got up and dressed and left the house without waking anyone, as far as I could tell. I reached the trailhead before daybreak and got to my halfway point before sunrise. The sky is just barely showing any hint of daylight yet-to-come.

It can sometimes feel as if my choices are very limited, or potentially even that I “have no choice” in some moment of stress or urgency. That’s rarely true. Just this morning, getting to this ordinary location for an everyday experience that is quite commonplace for me, I made many choices. Fleece or cardigan? Put my boots on while seated on the edge of the bed, or carry them down the hall and put them on right before I leave? Hair pulled back, worn in a twist, or loose? Grab a yogurt drink or a bottle of water on my way out? Do I need to stop for gas? Most of these choices happened almost in the background, requiring very little of my attention. They’re still choices.

I smile to myself in the darkness. I’m okay with my choices so far, today. If I weren’t, I could begin again, and walk a different path (literally or metaphorically). The small everyday choices may seem insignificant, but they say something about my values, and how well I do (or don’t) live them. That’s information worth having. It can be hard to correct the path we walk, if we don’t notice we’ve stepped off that path.

A sprinkling of rain begins to fall. I can continue on, until I reach the parking lot, or I can turn back. In this instance, the choice won’t be about distance; it’s about the same either way. 😂 I laugh and pull my tightly folded rain poncho out of my pocket, and pull it over my head. It was a smart choice to bring it, I think to myself. Then the rain stops, making it completely irrelevant. It rained only long enough to make my poncho too wet to shove back in my pocket. I chuckle to myself. Sometimes choices do work out that way. I don’t really mind being unnecessarily prepared. It’s far better than being unprepared.

I think about the day ahead. Am I prepared? Ready to make choices? Ready to do the many verbs awaiting me further up life’s path? I don’t know… I’m at least ready to begin. Again.

It starts to sprinkle again, and I get to my feet, ready to walk on. Prepared.

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Categories Allegories, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, The Art of Being, Words

Better…And Worse

October 30, 2025 //
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The work day ended gently, and it’s been productive. which surprises me. The morning passed pretty quickly, but the minutes became prolonged and tedious as the afternoon began, and by 13:00 I was definitely aware that I’m ill. The headache that seemed to have diminished during the night is very much back. My sinuses feel weirdly dry and irritated, in spite of my drippy nose. I finally noticed that I had forgotten to remove my shoes after running a brief errand… then still managed to forget about them entirely until some minutes ago. I ache all over, although the chills and sweats seem to be over with. I’m “tired” – but not the healthy tiredness of the end of a long day at hard work, nor the anticipated tiredness of bedtime. Just feeling generally rundown. The malaise of illness seems so utterly mundane. But…

…I’m okay for nearly all values of “okay”, presently, in spite of being sick. It’s just a headcold. Pretty commonplace, and very ordinary. Hell, it’s that time of year, anyway, eh? I sigh, and let that go. It’s not really worth bitching about, and I’m snug at home and cared for…

My Traveling Partner asks me, every so often, if I’m feeling better. I mean… mostly? Sort of. Some? A little bit? As with the way I often answer questions, the answer isn’t helpful at all, and fails to communicate anything worth knowing. It’s a challenge I deal with often, and I know it frustrates people. What frustrates me is how often people who know I have brain damage either completely forget that there are some very specific things that result from that (which affect communication in some cases) that I can’t reliably do much about, or behave as though it is as simple as doing things differently. Practicing doing some particular thing in some very particular way can be helpful over time, but (most especially) when my executive function and communication impairments are most severe (like, when I’m sick, or deeply fatigued), there’s often damned little I can actually do about it in any practical way. I just have to deal with the experience of struggling to communicate, when it happens. Frustrating all around.

I take a break with my Traveling Partner. He’s working on a project in the shop. He’s having his own experience with frustration and shares details with me. He offers to show me something he’s working on, or something to do with the thing frustrating him. I’m aware that I’m too sick to be sharp enough to appreciate and value the experience, putting us both at risk of still more frustration – so I decline in favor of more self-care, and maybe laying down for awhile. This fucking headache is kicking my ass, and has now partnered with my “everyday headache” to bring real oomph to my headache experience. I sigh to myself, alone in this comfortable space. My headache is not eased by whatever the fuck that low frequency whine outside is. A leaf-blower? A distant train engine idling on a siding? One of those vacuum or carpet cleaning trucks over at the apartment complex on the other side of the creek? It could be any number of things. One thing it definitely is, is incredibly irritating and I’ve got a fucking headache. I snarl quietly to myself, then remind myself it isn’t personal, at all. It’s just noise.

…This headache, though…

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I’m not at risk of death. I’m not headed to the ER. I’m not immobilized. I’ve got a headcold. Some random virus going around the community at the start of flu season caught up to me. I could have rolled d20 and predicted the outcome, most likely. Annoyingly mundane and not at all interesting. (Sorry.)

I sit quietly for a moment, appreciating the other details. The good stuff. I pull my focus back to this moment, this relationship, this little house situated between town and farm. There’s a lot to be grateful for. I’m grateful that the Anxious Adventurer is willing to make dinner, and that I had ingredients on hand to make that relatively easy on him. I’m grateful to have the means to quickly go to the pharmacy for cold remedies, and the freedom to do so at my convenience, even on a work day. I’m grateful that I can afford to do so, without worrying about trade-offs. I’m grateful for the good quality well-roasted sustainably sourced fair trade coffee beans from which I made my morning coffee. I’m grateful to have the opportunity to make that choice. I’m grateful to have become the kind of person who cares about the other human beings in the supply chain for the things I want or need in life, and the sort who makes choices that are informed by that caring nature. I’m grateful to recognize my relative privilege in life, in spite of the tough times I’ve endured along the way. I’m grateful for the computer that sits here on my desk; my Traveling Partner built it with my needs in mind, and it suits me so well! I’m grateful to be so well-loved by such a very interesting and delightful human being, one that I love so well. I’m grateful that my problems in life aren’t worse than they are – and that I am aware of my good fortune.

…Even when I’m sick, a few minutes of sincere gratitude is a powerful mood-lifter…

When I’m sick, my emotions are often very much “at the surface” of my awareness. This puts me at risk of losing my temper, or weeping over nonsense. In addition to those risks, though, it also puts me in touch with the softer subtler emotions, the little joys, the childlike delight over something that sparkles, the pure radiant happiness of a hug. It’s a weird time. I’m tired, but energized and restless. I’m volatile, but capable of beautiful moments of great joy, love, and delight. I’m kind of stupid, but barely matters because I’m also feeling accepted and safe and cared-for. Being human is peculiarly complicated. Nuanced. I try not to take it personally. If things go sideways, I know I’m loved anyway. I smile to myself and finish my tea. The work day is behind me. I can begin again tomorrow – for now, I’ll just take care of myself.

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Categories Allegories, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, health, joy, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being, The Big 5, Words

89 Seconds to Midnight

October 30, 2025 //
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I left work early yesterday (by a few minutes) with a wicked headache. Not my usual headache, this one felt…viral. By evening I was definitely not feeling well. I crashed at 18:30 and slept through the night waking only twice for one biological need or another, and quickly returning to sleep. I woke at my usual time, and went back to sleep, waking later to make coffee and slowly start getting myself together for the day, figuring I’ll work from home, at predictably lower productivity, but “being there” for my team and still getting needful things wrapped up for October. A reasonable plan.

The first notification to reach me this morning is a DM from a friend. “Are you worried?” Well, damn, yeah, honestly, more often than not lately – at least any time I step outside my safe-seeming home. But, I feel certain she means something specific, and I ask. I immediately wish I hadn’t, when she replies “he wants to re-start nuclear testing”. I know which “he” she means, and my response is… to make a cup of coffee. I mean, damn, even if the end of the world were literally upon me, at this hour of the day I’m definitely going to want to face that shit with a fresh cup of coffee. lol I’m not meaning to make light of something that is truly horrific, but I honestly don’t know how else to take it. The notion is completely fucking ludicrous – what is there to test? What don’t we already know about the profound destructive power of nuclear weapons, and the lasting damage to this one planet we live on that inevitably results? Have we forgotten all the other nuclear tests that have been done? It’s an ugly dick measuring contest. A toddler’s demonstration of power (that they clearly should not have in the first place). Renewed nuclear testing achieves nothing good and protects no one. It does nothing to improve the stability of global trade or diplomacy. It’s also fucking expensive, which seems odd from a guy who campaigned on how good he was going to make America, and how much he would bring down the debt, the deficit, and the cost of fucking groceries. I’m annoyed by all of it, so I…

…Take a breath, followed by a sip of my coffee, which is exceptional this morning. I get my work tools set up. I seem to manage to avoid waking my still-sleeping Traveling Partner, which pleases me (I hope I’m right!), because I’m fairly certain he will have slept restlessly, worrying about me during the night. Then I check The Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists to see if the clock has changed since January 28th… it hasn’t. I let it go, with a sigh. Not relief, just… I don’t know. The madness of renewed nuclear testing is not something I can change, or fix, or act upon, really. I’ll write letters to representatives later.

It’s not that I’m ignoring the crazy going on around me, nor the costume ball of assholes, douchebags, and clowns in Washington haplessly proclaiming that this or that new horror is somehow not their fault. I’m not ignoring any of it. I am refusing to let those fuckwits camp out rent free in my consciousness full-time, though. I will continue to live my life as well as I am able until the world actually ends. I’ll do my own best to be kind, to be a good neighbor, to be compassionate, to make wise choices, to care for home and hearth, to love with my whole heart, and to refrain from making shit in the world worse – for anyone – if I can. I’ll continue to call genocide “genocide”, when I see it. I’ll continue to speak truth to power. I’ll continue to refuse to laugh at “jokes” that hurt people. I’ll turn my attention away from the click-bait headlines, sponsored content, and AI slop. I just don’t have time for attention-getting bullshit.

I dislike being sick, but compared to some of what is going on in the world, a headcold isn’t that big a deal, is it?

I sip my coffee. I meditate. I run a brush through my hair so that on my calls I don’t look like a muppet does my styling. I move my keyboard a litte more to the left… Then after I shift my chair, I move it back to the right some. After a couple of repeats, I realize I’m just fussing, and willfully stop my restless fidgiting. I breathe, exhale, and relax, and let my lingering stress and irritation go with my exhalation. I feel my posture become more relaxed, more upright, more “easy”. Feels better. I don’t always easily recognize “discomfort” for what it is, at least not immediately. I take a moment for a “body scan”, feeling various tight spots, and letting myself relax further. There is endurance, resilience, and comfort in self-care. I take my time with myself, and my coffee. I’ve already set expectations that I’m not at 100% this morning, and that I may begin the day a bit later than I generally do. Clear expectation-setting and managing healthy boundaries is also self-care.

What matters most? The moment of panic over a madman’s idiocy – or how I live my life, moment to moment? I realize that I hadn’t sent my friend a proper response to her concern. Am I worried? Of course I am. Am I letting that worry take over my experience? Nope. Not a chance – there is nothing whatsoever about the terrible crap in the news that requires that of me, or over which my reaction in this moment would be some sort of catalyst for change. I tell my friend I am taking a wait-and-see approach, and staying prepared for disaster, but that I won’t be allowing such things to wreck my day-to-day experience. I send her laughing emojis and tell her I have too much “real stuff” to do. She laughs, too, and tells me she appreciates my practical level-headed perspective. I’m grateful that she sees me that way, and I let those words remind me that this is who I am – with practice.

I remind myself to sit down with my Traveling Partner and the Anxious Adventurer, and have a conversation about cold-war era fears of nuclear disaster, and ensuring that together we have disaster plans that are appropriate, and that our level of preparedness for the “come what may” is sufficient. It’s a conversation for another time, and needs no further thought from me now. I set it aside for later, along with my general disappointment in humanity that we’re even in this predicament in the first place. We could do better. Honestly, it’s such a simple thing; it begins with electing people of good character who have the necessary skills and willingness to govern accountably and ethically. Without that, we just end up right back here. I sigh to myself, and let that go, too.

I glance at the clock… It’s time to begin again. There is no time to waste. The clock is always ticking.

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Categories 2024 Election, Allegories, anger, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, The Art of Being, War and News of War, Words

Tinnitus, Still

October 29, 2025 //
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I had high hopes that my hearing aids might somehow improve my tinnitus. That hasn’t been the case, although it is sometimes less distracting, since I can more easily focus on real sounds in my environment, being able to hear them more clearly. It’s something, but it’s not a solution to the tinnitus, which is vexing me a bit this morning. In the predawn darkness on the trail, I hear my footsteps, my breathing, and my tinnitus.

I sigh to myself and keep on walking.

The news is grim and stupid to the point of seeming surreal. It’s as if The Onion is in charge of the news… only, this crap is entirely real. I mean, for most values of real. (Sometimes it is hard to be certain what “real” even is, with AI slop becoming heavily featured.) What did we think would happen as businesses (including media companies) lay off human beings in favor of (apparently) cheaper AI bots and “agents” taking the place of human beings with actual creativity, discernment, judgement, and comprehension? The demand for news and information is still there, and it looks like a notable portion of the news consuming public will settle for sponsored content and clickbait slideshows as an adequate substitute. So grotesque.

I keep walking.

Grocery prices are way up, while the president says explicitly that they are down. This entire administration seems to be one long tedious string of actual fact-checkable blatant shameless falsehoods. Lies. Like, “look straight into the camera, smile, and lie” levels of disregard for truth or factual accuracy. I’m not sure which bothers me most, the childishly obvious lying, or the personal attacks in lieu of reasoned discussion. Sarcasm, mockery, and name-calling used to seem beneath the dignity and character of our leaders… but someone let schoolyard bullies take seats of power. Stupid. Stressful. I keep finding myself wondering if we truly are living the decline and fall of America. That would be such a shame.

I keep walking.

The pavement is wet. It rained during the night. I wonder how many people in my own community spent the rainy night outdoors, who will wake up hungry this morning and instead of a fresh cup of coffee and a job to get to, spend a cold morning trying to find resources. Shelter. A hot meal. A means of being clean, warm, dry, and safe. Where will they go? What would I do if it were me?

I keep walking.

I notice, this morning, that my readership is way up. Like, almost ridiculously so. If you’re a new reader, welcome. I laugh to myself. The things I write are not the sort likely to drive a ton of new views, generally. I’m not naive enough to imagine I’ve suddenly become wildly popular with a broad audience. It’s more likely to be bots and non-human traffic. (I once saw readership spike when a particular post was used as an example of something in someone’s curriculum. Things like that happen now and then.) Still, if you are a human primate who happened upon my blog, you are very welcome. Enjoy.

I get to my halfway point and stop to write. The morning is dark and quiet, chilly and damp, but not actually raining. It’s a workday, and I expect a busy one. I sigh and let that go. I don’t need to be thinking about work right now, this moment is mine. I don’t have to think about “the world”, either, not right now, and I let that go, too. I breathe, exhale, and relax, and let concerns about money, civil rights, personal freedoms, genocide, aging, AI, and the future of humankind, fall away, and I pull my focus to this quiet moment right here. Here, now, generally speaking, things (for me) are mostly fine. I’m okay for most values of okay. The bills are paid. The pantry is stocked. There’s a payday coming. The gas tank is half full. I’m wearing warm, dry, clean clothing appropriate for the weather. Hell, I’m even in a pretty good mood, if a bit world-weary and disappointed in humanity.

I sit with my gratitude awhile, wishing very much I could share this moment with my Granny, my Dear Friend, or even my Dad – all people who spent some considerable time in their lives worrying over me. I’m okay. Took a long g’damned time to get here, but I’m here, now, and I’m okay. I fill my lungs with the chilly autumn morning air and exhale slowly, emptying my mind of stressful things as the vapor of my breath mingles with the autumn mist.

G’damn, my tinnitus is loud this morning.

Daybreak comes later each morning, this time of year. “No point waiting,” I think to myself. I sit a little while longer, watching the stars and looking for even a hint of the dawn to come. It’s not yet time. For a moment I wonder whimsically (if a bit grimly) whether the sun will rise at all. How would I behave if one morning it just… didn’t? That would certainly change the relative importance of some of the bullshit going on in the world, wouldn’t it?

I sit with my thoughts, and my breath, trying to make sense of things. It is a favorite endeavor of human primates to try and “figure things out”. I hear an old familiar voice in my memory, “you can’t figure out crazy”. Still true. I sigh and get to my feet. It’s time to walk on. It is time to begin again.

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Categories 2024 Election, Allegories, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, The Art of Being, War and News of War, Words

Breeeeeathe…

October 23, 2025 //
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I get it. Maybe I even read that same headline and had the same astonished, frustrated, dismayed, disgusted, horrified, or flummoxed response.

Was it billionaire cash grabs? Was it DHS blandly disavowing any knowledge of pregnant women in custody being mistreated? Was it another report of masked agency thugs harassing citizens? Was it the thoughtless narcissistic destruction of a historical treasure to build a monument to a tacky tasteless display of personal wealth? Was it news that yet another powerful crony of Trump is directly profiting from flouting ethical rules? The high cost of healthcare and groceries? The government shutdown? Corporate data centers driving up the cost of residential consumer power bills? I get it. It’s all pretty g’damned horrible and disappointing (and worse)… but… we’ve got to breathe, and we’ve got to practice skillful boundary-setting and good self-care to get through this absolute fucking disaster. No kidding. Breathe. Please. (And I remind myself, daily.)

…Take a moment, and do the best you can to calm yourself, and find perspective…

…Maybe put down the news, or your doomscrolling device of choice…

Don’t mistake me for saying “be silent and endure”, that isn’t my message at all. Protest. Resist. Write to your elected officials, even if you suspect no one is listening. Take action, when there is action to take. Speak truth to power. Don’t let the enemies of democracy win because you forfeited the game! But… take care of yourself and your loved ones, and be kind and considerate to your fellow travelers. We’re all in this together. A lot of people are suffering needlessly, all around us. Don’t add to the misery.

Self-care and good mental and emotional health matter even more in difficult times.  Practice the practices that nurture and heal you, lift you up, and spread joy in your circle of influence! Share what’s going well in life at least as often as you bitch about everything going wrong (more would be good). Maintain balance and perspective, and stay mindful that change is, and we are mortal creatures. All of us are mortal, including the monsters among us. Nothing is permanent , not even this freak-show shit-storm of hate and incompetence that is the current US administration. This too will pass. Do what you can to get through it with your soul intact.

Take a moment for something beautiful.

Sometimes when things are hard in the world, the stress seeps into my consciousness from all around me, and the tiniest details of my own experience become subtly tainted with it. My PTSD symptoms, generally pretty well managed these days, flare up unexpectedly. My sleep becomes routinely disturbed as if I’d never had the years of therapy, of practices, of healing, and of good sleep hygiene that once resolved that problem almost completely. My degraded sleep leads to cognitive impairments due to fatigue, and emotional volatility increases with my frustration with myself, and my dread of conditions in the world at large. The stress piles up, each moment of panic, of dread, of frustration, of sorrow, of anger, adding to a haystack of poor mental health and degraded cognitive faculties that leaves me even more vulnerable to spiraling out of control into despair or rage. Yeesh. Human primates are fucking complicated. (…Where is that damned owner’s manual… Maybe a handy user’s guide…?)

I breathe, exhale, and relax. A single glance at the news headlines was enough, and I set that shit aside. The blend of regurgitated outrage, sycophantic dick-sucking, and sponsored content is more than disappointing enough viewed through headlines – I surely do not need to read further. Not today. Today, I’ll take care of this fragile vessel.

I slept through the night last night, and woke feeling more rested than I have in days. I’m not in as much pain, either, though enough to signal coming rain, probably in the next day or two. I allow myself a moment of amusement that my aching bones predict the weather. I made a point of bringing a bottle of water along with me this morning, rather than allow myself to drink coffee all day long. I make a point of taking my medication on time, and also my vitamin supplement (which I probably skip too often). I didn’t rush through the morning, taking my time as I dressed, and allowing myself to be less ludicrously vigilant about small noises (which often results in some moment of clumsiness and much more noise). I breathe, deeply and exhale completely. I check in with myself… jaw clenched? Relax that. Shoulders tight? Relax those too. Detail by detail, I make room for self-awareness. I breathe, exhale, and relax. The day begins in an ordinary enough way, and the commute was easy.

I stretch. Yawn. Sip my coffee – and begin again.

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Categories 2024 Election, Allegories, anger, Anxiety, autumn, breathe, Despair, Free Will, Frustration, health, Healthy Living, joy, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, The Art of Being, The Big 5, War and News of War, Words
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