Archives for posts with tag: a journey without a map
« Older Entries

One Dark and Foggy Morning

November 11, 2026 //
0

Walking this trail in the fog and predawn darkness is pretty much like any other. Which trail? Doesn’t matter; there is nothing to see but fog beyond the small-seeming circle of light bobbing along. It lights enough of the trail that I am safe from stepping into the marsh by mistake, or slipping and falling into a pond.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

… This is definitely no time for AI. 😂 Breathing the fresh autumn air as I walked the trail reminded me with each step how precious this mortal human life is. The experience of walking in the foggy darkness, of waking and walking ahead of the sunrise, of the scents of autumn – AI can’t create or experience any of these. Life is a very human experience.

… Be sure to live some of it…

I smile to myself as I take a seat on a fence rail between the trail and a marsh pond. In summer it’s a very small stagnant pond, more of a puddle, and the ground between the fence and the pond itself becomes grassy and firm. The autumn rain returns each year and refills this pond such that it swells and extends almost to the fence. This section of the trails in this nature park is my favorite. It cuts through the marsh. On a foggy morning like this, it is eerie and mysterious. It’s also on a seasonal trail, restricted between October and May, and I feel a moment of guilt and embarrassment; I had forgotten. It is November.

I sigh to myself, admitting I also ought not really be out here before dawn. The signage is quite specific; park hours are dawn to dusk. I face my mixed feelings about my rule-breaking. It feels strangely American to defy authority and break rules – but that doesn’t address the right/wrong of the choice to be out here on this trail in the darkness of a foggy autumn morning well before daybreak.

I understand myself as someone with a commitment to being my best self, and respecting rules… but here I am, unmistakably not following clearly posted rules. I sit with the discomfort and cognitive dissonance, letting the truth remain prominent in my thoughts long enough to accept who I am, and my decision making which brought me here. Nonjudgmental self-reflection, consideration of what is real and true of this moment. No games or self-defensiveness, no excuses or rationalization. Observation, acknowledgement, and acceptance, only – challenge accepted, I tell myself, and sit awhile longer. My human primate mind really really wants rationalization and approval, I persist in refusing to provide it. I made choices.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. The fog envelopes me in the darkness. Hints of daybreak begin to appear. The sky is a paler gray. The oaks dotting the marsh and meadow are silhouetted, black against the sky. Smaller trees appear through the fog, looking like strangers just standing out there in the gloom. Spooky. I have the trail to myself this morning. Not only because it’s ridiculously early, but also, it is a Wednesday, Veterans Day, but an ordinary work day for many.

… The sky and fog all around me continue to lighten as dawn becomes a new day. Everything around me is fog, as though I had inadvertently stepped out of my reality into some vague, unimagined space, gray and… waiting. Waiting, perhaps, for me to choose a direction, select a path, and begin again.

There’s enough light to see now. I’m still surrounded by fog. The sound of distant traffic on the edge of the park is muffled. The air is so still and quiet that the sound of a nearby wakeful duck on the pond ruffling her feathers seems loud. My feet crunch on the gravel trail when I hop down from the fence rail, stretching as I stand. I look down the trail, into the fog. The world seems to disappear completely about 50 ft (something like 15 meters) from me.

… I walk on, imagining each detail that emerges from the fog to be wholly new, and my own doing. If I were to create the world anew – what would I change? With what purpose in mind? How would I shape it with all of humanity in mind? And everything else? What about all the many details I don’t know or can’t imagine? Would my world be comically lopsided without? I stop on the trail further on, realizing I hadn’t yet finished this. Strange foggy morning.

Walking in the fog. It’s a metaphor.

I finish my writing, and begin again.

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

What the Future Holds

March 7, 2025 //
0

I’m sipping my coffee and thinking about the future. I wonder what it holds? I mean, besides uncertainty… It’s not yet written. I’m making it right now (so are you) with every choice, every action, and my participation in any circumstance in which I may be involved (and perhaps some in which I am not directly involved at all). The future is… complicated. We can’t see what is on the path ahead, but we keep right on walking toward the next bend. We have to; the journey is the the destination. Even standing still (metaphorically) doesn’t halt our forward progress through time. The clock is always ticking.

I’m 97 days away from my next birthday. There were years in my life when I could not imagine being in this place, or having come this far. I couldn’t even begin to plan for a future I felt fairly certain (at some points) that I would not live to see. I did a pretty shitty job of being prepared for this place in life… older. Aging. Feeling my capabilities descreasing as my wisdom and joy in life increase. Wanting to retire but needing to continue working. “Complicated” doesn’t begin to explain it in any simply way, it merely obscures the nuances of the truth. I’m not even complaining – I’m just thinking about it and feeling rather mortal. My time is finite. I wonder how much I have left? Would I choose to “live forever” if I could? I think I might, actually, yeah – even as unprepared for that as I am. I rather enjoy living this life, and seeing each sunrise. I’m definitely not bored with it, and there is so much more to learn and do and see and experience.

I’m not feeling discontented this morning. I’m not even in much pain – quite manageable, and I’m grateful for that. I got a good night’s rest, after a rather trying day yesterday, and I’m feeling fairly relaxed and on the edge of feeling actually… merry. Joyful. Grateful. Almost… happy. But I still wonder how many grains of sand remain in the hourglass… and what lies beyond?

There are things to do – I have a list – and I’m looking forward to most of them. The weather has been tempting me out into the garden, and it’s a lovely way to occupy my time productively, and happily. I smile when I think about my childhood resentment of having to spend time on my hands and knees weeding the garden, or preparing the soil, or moving things from here to there to help out in a garden I had no particular fondness for. I think I was only about 19 when my perspective on that changed. Certainly by the time I was 22, I was eager to create and nurture a garden of my own. I remember my very first roses fondly (Mr Lincoln, and Olympiad, which were part of the landscape of a little house in Texas I’d moved into). They changed my mind about roses, and I’ve grown roses ever since. Isn’t it strange how our perspective can change over time? How what matters most evolves over a lifetime of experience?

Roses on a sunny day. Impermanent. Like moments.

Beyond the garden, my to-do list is all practical things, part of taking care of hearth and home. I’m yearning to paint, but there are things that come first as priorities. I’m hoping perhaps to make a trip to the coast over the vernal equinox, to relax for a few days and paint, and get some solo time…but… there are costs to consider, and I’d very much like to avoid “Spring break” crowds (just not my thing, too much noise and chaos). I frown at my calendar… when is Spring break, anyway? I feel almost relieved to see that Spring break is the week following the equinox…but… can I make it work? I sigh to myself. I can remember being less “responsible”, but while that seemed to be “more fun” in some ways, it was a rocky path and one that I don’t care to walk these days. I’d rather plan with care, and choose wisely, and work within the limitations of my resources in a practical way. Less stress. Weather permitting, I’m pretty comfortably equipped for plein air painting, and there are some lovely spots for it locally. I could just take the time, stay fairly close to home, and make day trips to see things from a new perspective, paint awhile, and return home. I sit with that thought and sip my coffee as the sun rises. It starts to sound like a real adventure of a sort I rarely indulge. My mind wanders the map in my head of places I could go, handy picnic tables with pleasing views… will the weather cooperate?

I sit awhile longer with my thoughts. Soon enough it will be time to begin again.

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories art and the artist, breathe, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, joy, meditation, Metaphors, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Practices, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, turning 60

Whatever Your Plan Was

December 28, 2024 //
0

I’m sitting at the trailhead listening to the rain fall, still hoping for a break in the rain sufficient to get a walk in without also getting soaked. I listen to the traffic drive by on the nearby highway. I observe the gleaming wet stripe of asphalt that crosses the view. The fields on the other side of the highway are in a low spot, as is the marsh behind me, and each year the fields and marsh flood in the winter rainy season, closing the lowland marsh trail and creating a vast shallow lake where the fields are. I had planned to walk the marsh trail. I’ll take the year-round trail for the rest of the rainy season. Different trail, different view; reality doesn’t care about my plans. lol

Lights reflected off a seasonal lake, before dawn.

I’m enjoying the quiet. I’m unconcerned about the rain. Circumstances change and change again, it’s best to enjoy things as they are whenever possible. Some people struggle to find joy. I used to be one of those. Turns out it is surprisingly easy to change that in favor of becoming a person who easily finds joy in the moment. It does take some practice, and it’s not really something that can be faked. I breathe, exhale, and relax, noticing again the quiet of the morning and enjoying it.

Maybe today I’ll do some painting before the clock runs out on the holiday season and the year?

I notice how much my neck is hurting and how loud my tinnitus seems. I shrug off my discomfort, because I also notice that the rain has stopped, and there is, for now, clear sky overhead. I grab my headlamp from where I leave it hanging from the gearshift, and my boots from the floor on the passenger side of the car. The weather is quite mild, although rainy, and it’s a good morning to walk, in spite of the darkness. I smile to myself, finding joy in this moment, too. It’s a good moment to begin again.

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, joy, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Practices, solo hiking, The Art of Being

Time is Short

June 15, 2024 //
0

This mortal lifetime is a fleeting and all too brief experience. We haven’t yet defeated aging or death, and we inevitably face both those experiences in turn… if we’re fortunate enough to enjoy some longevity in the first place.

I’m not meaning to sound grim, just putting a bit of self-reflection and perspective into my morning. It just seems to me that there is no time for petty bullshit, taking things personally, or chronic negativity. We’re human, though  and pettiness, bullshit, negativity, and taking things personally often seem to be default settings for human primates. It’s unfortunate. Life is filled with wonder and potential joy and delight, and when we give ourselves the opportunity to experience those qualities, they have incredible potential to lift us up.

…We become what we practice…

I often wonder what keeps some people so invested in unpleasantness and negativity, when it is possible to choose differently? I’m forced to reflect on my own journey; it’s the one I know best. It wasn’t that long ago that I took a lot of shit personally (that wasn’t, at all). I was a chronically pessimistic, cynical, fairly miserable traumatized human being disappointed with life, feeling weighed down by futility and despair, struggling to find any relief, purpose, or joy. I began making other choices, setting off on this profoundly healing journey some 14 years ago, around the time I reconnected with my (now) Traveling Partner. Shortly before then, actually, but at the time I didn’t really understand the nature of the journey ahead, nor where it could lead me (I was only beginning to understand the necessity and ask the important questions).

Like a road trip without a map, through fog.

…If I had known how far I would need to go, how long the journey ahead would be, and how much work, study, and will would be required, I doubt I would have understood that I had it in me to undertake it at all, and I might have given up on myself (I almost did)…

I’m just saying that it is possible to get from “there” to “here”, and it has been worthwhile a hundred times over to make the journey. So worth it.

I’ve read books and studied mindfulness and relevant cognitive research and developments in neuroscience. I’ve given thought to the advice and recommendations of friends, family, lovers, colleagues, and mental health professionals, and taken so many of their suggestions for a test drive, looking for changes that could improve my experience. I’ve pulled myself back from the precipice of despair a thousand times. I’ve practiced a multitude of practices, adopting some as permanent features of the way I live (meditation, non-attachment, and “taking in the good” being among those). I’ve pursued honest self-reflection and committed to better self-care. I’ve sought (and found) perspective, and embraced change. I’ve begun to thrive in life, instead of merely surviving it.

…Powerful stuff…

I’m sitting here with my thoughts on a rather stormy morning as summer approaches, watching the clouds drift by. The sun is up. I’ve got this trail to myself. It’s a pleasant moment and I am grateful to have this quiet solitary time.

I can only walk my own path.

I’m a bit frustrated by one thing as I sit with my thoughts… It’s this; I can find success and joy in life through all the means I’ve named, and I can share all that with you here, and with people dear to me, but I can’t make anyone else follow this (or a similar) path. We’re each having our own experience. I can’t actually make someone else abandon their negativity or pettiness. I can’t make someone embrace joy, or cultivate contentment. I can’t do the work for someone else or even convince them of the necessity or likely improvement that could follow. We have to walk our own hard mile. I had to walk mine, and I walk it even now. You have to walk yours, and the consequences of your actions (and your words) are yours to bear.

I sit with my thoughts awhile longer. It’s a lovely morning. A blue jay hops about in the weeds near my feet. The large rock beside the trail that I’m sitting on is firm beneath me. I feel grounded and comfortable in my skin, in spite of the pain I’m in. I feel sure of my path, and my worthiness to walk it. I am grateful for the many opportunities I have had to grow and change and begin again. Learning to forgive myself has been hard. Learning to forgive others has been harder. Both have been worthwhile and I am less burdened thereby.

This very human experience is an interesting and complicated thing, and I often wonder what the real purpose of it is, or whether it has one at all.

Maybe it’s enough to enjoy the journey?

There is a lot to forgive in one lifetime, but there’s also a lot to enjoy, and a lot to celebrate.  The storm clouds regroup, and the sky darkens. Rain drops begin to spatter the trail and the blue jay has flown away. I stand and stretch, and get ready to head back to the car. It’s time to begin again.

…Where does your path lead? Is that where you really want to go? The clock is ticking; choose wisely.

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Allegories, anger, anhedonia, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, grief, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Spring, Summer, The Art of Being, War and News of War, Words

Pieces

February 11, 2023 //
0

I type the word “pieces” into the title field, and immediately get distracted wondering why it appears to be misspelled. That’s the way of things sometimes, isn’t it? We puzzle over things that are not especially puzzling, mislead by a mistake in our thinking, or an erroneous “observation”. It’s pretty human that we do this – we are imperfect creatures with a persistent notion of being “better than” other creatures in some noteworthy way. lol

My coffee is good this morning. It’s a quiet Saturday. I had planned to sleep in. My Traveling Partner woke me. All good; he woke me sufficiently late in the morning to totally count as having slept in, and truly there is a new day ahead and plenty to do. It was nice to start the day with a few minutes of meditation, then coffee together until the point at which he began finding me less comfortable to hang out with (perhaps due to my fidgeting, or perhaps the pattern of my breathing had become irregular making affinity behaviors uncomfortable, or perhaps nothing really to do with me at all, but nonetheless ascribed to something to do with me). I give him some room to breathe, and take my coffee into the studio.

As soon as I sit down at my desk I feel uplifted and lighthearted; my Traveling Partner built this lovely space for me. Well, I mean – it’s a room in our house, and he outfitted it with this desk, built my computer, and installed the acoustic treatments. So, yeah. He had a lot to do with this space that wraps me in comfort and inspiration. The paintings on the walls are mine. I am surrounded by things that encourage and delight me. It’s an important space in my home – and in my experience. A piece of a bigger puzzle.

There are so many “pieces” in being this human primate that I am. My love of writing. My compulsion to do so. My willingness to share it. My fondness for my partner. My delight in this home. The enjoyment I take from the sound of rain. The pleasure I find in a cup of coffee – down to the coffee beans, and the cup itself even. I can spread the pieces out quite far and find value in distant forest trails, paths that wander the edges of a marsh, or suburban sidewalks that meander through neighborhoods filled with other human primates living other lives. I can focus on quite tiny details and find myself in the sensation of bare feet on carpet, deck, or lawn, and the sensation of fabric on skin.

There is so much joy and pleasure to be had in a single human lifetime. It’s easy to overlook all that when things go wrong and when I face challenges. There’s sorrow in this life, too. Pain. Hurt feelings. Lost opportunities. Vast choices such that the mind is overwhelmed and shortcuts just feel… easier. There’s so much to learn, and so many things to fail at before mastering anything at all. In years that I have focused too much on the difficulties, the joy in my life was diminished and life was dismal. In years when I have focused on hedonistic pleasures with a devil-may-care disregard for any moment but “now”, I’ve failed to grow as a human being – and also somehow failed to thrive. I find it a peculiar balancing act to find a comfortable middle ground, somehow settling on seeking calm, contentment, and joy – without “chasing” happiness. It seems to come to me often enough when I take this approach, though, so… I’m good with it. 🙂

I’m rarely deeply unhappy anymore. It’s been a long journey. It’s not over. I still struggle with the hardships I face. I still have challenges and fight the internal battles with my personal demons daily. It’s a worthwhile endeavor – and the conviction that this is the case is one major victory among many. I’ve come so far! Sure, I still have some rough days. Still struggle to get adequate restful sleep. Still have nightmares. Still have this headache, and this arthritis. Still deal with lasting effects of early life trauma, my TBI, my PTSD – but what a difference it has made to select my partnership(s) with more care, and to properly take care of myself! Meditation has proven to be a long-term value. Simple health-improving steps have also “given back” more than it feels like I have had to put in. Totally worth the “effort” to drink more water, to take my medications on time, to eat a calorie-and-portion managed nutritious diet, and get more exercise. Hell, those things are working out so well, I’m motivated to “do more better” and take things further. I keep practicing.

Nothing fancy or particularly unusual about today. It’s just another day. A sunny weekend Saturday with no explicit agenda unfolds ahead of me. Where will my path lead? If it’s not too chilly, it might be a good day to do some garden prep and tidy up spaces for Spring… Certainly looks like a lovely one to get a nice walk in, too. Maybe I’ll paint? I could work on my manuscript. I could bake some cookies, or finish tidying up and reorganizing the library (which is also our guest room, and presently a bit cluttered). What I do with the time is actually less important than that I do something, and that I treat myself and my partner well. The quality of the experience matters to the outcomes. I reflect on that and sip my coffee.

It’s a lovely day to begin again. What will I do with it?

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, The Art of Being, Words
« Older Entries