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Step One…

January 1, 2026 //
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It is New Year’s Day, January 1st, 2026. I woke up early, no hangover, feeling pretty relaxed and comfortable in my body after a good night’s sleep. This is only surprising because quite a few of the neighbors were up well into the night setting off fireworks and celebrating the end of 2025. Sounded like quite a lot of enthusiasm to see it end.

I’d gone to bed early, still struggling with lingering symptoms of recent illness and just not feeling up to a lot of fuss and bother. The sound of fireworks did not prevent me from sleeping. No parties, no drinking, no fancy dinner, no company over to ring in the new year; it was a quiet evening at home. It’s not surprising that I slept well and woke without a hangover.

The year ended somewhat painfully, with one final “fuck you” from circumstances delivered on the last day of the year. My parked car was sideswiped by something while I was working yesterday, which I discovered when I left the office to return home. Fuck. For real?! I cried. I pinged my Traveling Partner for comfort and guidance (too upset to easily process next steps), then called my insurance company to file a claim, and then local police department to file a report. By the time I got home, I was merely annoyed, and managing to feel grateful it hadn’t been worse. The damage to the car is cosmetic, and I wasn’t injured. It definitely could have been worse!

I sip my hot cup of cheap gas station coffee, listening to the rain falling at this trailhead, and thinking about how much my choices create my experience in some circumstances, and how circumstances sometimes create an experience I didn’t see coming, in others. I still have to deal it, with regardless of my previous choices or circumstances. It’s a journey. I do have choices and something to say about the experience I have. Powerful. Knowing this does nothing to prevent me from being upset when things go poorly, just reminds me there’s a lot about it that remains within my capabilities to handle, manage, control, or deal with properly.

… I’m still mad, though, I mean, for real? I have lingering “why me?” feelings, but I’ve done what I can for now…

I left the house this morning feeling a muted sense of purpose, and undecided on what trail to walk. It was early. I’ve got options. It is a cold morning, but not freezing. As I get into the car, it begins to rain. My nose is running and I’ve started coughing – taking my noisy sleepless self back into the house would only serve to wake everyone else, too. I don’t feel like dealing with that, so I head out in spite of the rain. It’s not cold enough to snow – I guess I’m grateful.

Now I’m sitting here at the trailhead, waiting for a break in the rain, and maybe for daylight. There’s no traffic beyond the parking lot. The morning is quiet and suited to meditation and self-reflection. It’s a gentle beginning to a new year. I make a point not to look at the news; I don’t want to do anything that might break this fragile moment of peace and contentment. Not yet. Later will be soon enough to begin again.

…

…

…

… I can’t believe I’m still dealing with being sick… Maybe I’ll just go back to bed after I return home? Anyway… Happy New Year!

First light on the trail, first morning hike of the new year.
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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, breathe, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, meditation, Metaphors, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Practices, solo hiking, The Art of Being, winter

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

Remembrance of Lives Lost

May 26, 2025 //
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So, hey, Memorial Day, yeah? Maybe you’ll barbecue with family, or perhaps you’ve been spending the weekend camping or traveling? Maybe, like me, just a long weekend spent more or less the usual way, at home? It is Memorial Day, though. Don’t forget to make time to reflect on the many lives lost to war – civilian lives, too. Lives lost to conflict, to genocide, to the ridiculous unwillingness of some in power to refrain from slaughtering innocents needlessly. The consequences of such things linger for generations. We could do better.

A Spring morning well-suited to reflection.

I started down the trail this morning, alone. The parking lot at the trailhead was empty, though it was much later than my usual time. Now, though, it’s almost crowded (meaning to say I’ve seen more than one other person walk past). I walked with my thoughts, mostly to do with fallen comrades of wars (cold and otherwise) that are in the distant seeming past. Memories. It’s been a decent year, in a sense; no new outreach alerting me that yet another old friend has taken their own life, unable to live with their memories, or the world as it is. It’s been awhile since I received such news.

I sit at my halfway point, reflecting on war – the pointless wastefulness and loss of life, the violence, the hate, and the lasting damage done. There are no “winners” in warfare. There are only the wealthy and the powerful (getting wealthier and more powerful), and the dead.

… Memorial Day sales are not the point of Memorial Day…

I sit watching clouds drift across the sky. I’m grateful that I have survived the wars I was sent to fight. I find room in my heart to honor the dead on both sides of those conflicts. There were no “good guys”, only fighting and chaos and killing and destruction. Ugly shit. Don’t go to war – the price is too high.

I sigh to myself, remembering. I’m okay though. Some years it’s been hard to face my memories and the losses left me feeling wounded and struggling with tears. Today not so much. What are one woman’s recollections of warfare in the face of ongoing actual genocides around the world? How do we even allow that to continue? Tough talk by idiot leaders is just performative puffery intended to convey strength by weak fools with too much power and fueled by greed (and, generally, also racism). Why do we permit it? It’s pretty ugly, and very wasteful. I have a pretty clear understanding of why leaders and governments participate in warfare – there’s quite a lot of money to be made, and wow, so much useful material for manipulating a population develops out of conflict. Do I sound cynical? I’ve been to war. I’ve stared into the eyes of the god of war. I’ve been “part of the machine”.

… I still consider myself a patriot, and in spite of trauma and the personal price I paid, I don’t regret serving my country, only that we continue to fight wars…

… never forget…

I think about “honor” and “valor” and “heroism” and ethical service to a cause, and wonder, again, why so many of us have to stare death in the face personally to understand that there is no honor in war… Only killing and death and destruction. The price paid in lives lost is too high.

My Traveling Partner pings me a good morning greeting. There is hope in the world because love exists. I smile to myself, and get ready to begin again.

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Categories 2024 Election, Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, grief, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, Uncategorized, War and News of War

Riding the Wave

April 15, 2025 //
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I had a moment yesterday. Feelings of loneliness and despair began to well up seemingly out of “nowhere”. It wasn’t “nowhere”, of course, these are troubling, baffling times for ethical compassionate people who want (and work) to see good in the world. I took a moment to shed some private tears and regain my balance, to self-soothe, and step back from thoughts of things I can’t influence directly or change in any practical immediate way.

“Breathe, exhale, relax.” I reminded myself. It helped and the evening moved on.

There’s still blue sky overhead.

If you’re hurting and struggling with the strange terrible times we’re in, you’re not alone, I promise you. Be kind. Be considerate. Be your best self in spite of seeming to be surrounded by a world of monsters. Look with scorn on terrible people, but don’t let them transform you. Don’t become the thing you find detestable. Don’t let the bad acts and cruelty of the world make you cruel, yourself. Resist the poor choices your own anger and fear nudge you towards and stand firm on your resolve and your convictions. Be the person you most want to be, not whatever facsimile of humanity it may seem that you are expected or encouraged to become by circumstances, systems, or corrupt individuals. Be honest. Be real. Speak truth to power. Make the wisest choices you can for the greatest good within your family, tribe, and community. Be the change you wish to see in the world. It’s not a platitude if you make it real in your own experience.

Remember that the goblin king has no power over you. He is a farce. He is a fiction. Make your own choices. Use your own words. Be the main character in your story, instead of an NPC in the game of life.

It’s a new day. A new beginning.

This morning I watch the sunrise. I listen to birds singing cheerily along the trail. No tears. I am okay right now. Sometimes shit gets hard because I actually do care, and all by itself that can be a hell of a burden to bear. It’s an interesting path I’ve chosen in life, and it isn’t paved, and I don’t have a map. Sometimes the going is easy, sometimes it is difficult. Regardless, it is a worthy journey of being and becoming, and I walk on.

I sigh quietly as I walk. Trolls and monsters and lines on maps – it’s a strange and sometimes scary world, but the journey is the destination and it isn’t really “about” any of that. Those are worldly distractions. I remind myself to be present, here, now. To be kind. To be the woman I most want to be. To make wise choices. To listen well and deeply, and to love with my whole heart.

I listen to my footsteps on the trail. The clock is ticking. It’s time to begin again.

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

Sound Sensitivity

January 24, 2025 //
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Used to be I had major issues with sound sensitivity, particularly in the voice frequency range. That seemed to be so much less problematic the last couple years, since shortly before the pandemic, I think. I never stopped to wonder why; I attributed that change to progress through therapy. Seemed obvious. Now I’ve got these hearing aids, and my sound sensitivity is back. lol Apparently I’d just been losing my hearing in the voice frequency range. LOL G’damn it.

I’m laughing over it more than anything else. Cosmic humor for those inclined to perceive (or create) a god. Last night I went to bed just a bit early, deeply fatigued from fighting to stay relaxed and merry in spite of my serious annoyance over “every little thing” to do with a variety of human sound effects that sourced with the human beings in the room with me. It wasn’t personal. Hell, it wasn’t even out of the ordinary – it was merely audible in a whole new way. I’ve got my hearing back, so it should have been predictable that I would also regain some measure of my sound sensitivity, and irritation to do with chomping, lip-smacking, slurping, clanging of dishes and utensils, banging of dishes and pots, stomping of feet, forced laughter, dealing with congestion, needlessly loud remarks when I’m listening to something else… all the regular human stuff. Fucking hell human beings are ridiculously noisy. I made the mistake of mentioning it aloud with some surprise at the observation, and instead of any sympathy whatsoever, what I got from the Anxious Adventurer (and primary source of most of the noise) was “maybe you should turn your hearing aids down”? (“How about maybe you try to be a little quieter – or at least show some fucking consideration and understanding, ffs?” Was my unstated response.) I was surprised at the callous disregard for my experience, and my somewhat hurt feelings and notable irritation were a major part of deciding to go to bed. I just didn’t feel like dealing with being treated dismissively in my own house by a human being who I expect to care about my experience at least a little bit and who receives a fuck-ton of consideration from me day-to-day.

…I may still have some unresolved feelings about this, apparently, I should deal with that. (So much for mostly laughing about it!)

I sigh to myself. The Anxious Adventurer may legitimately “not get it”, and is in some regards still half-feral. I remind myself to be patient and kind, and to coach more often than I snarl.

So. Yeah. There’s that. It’s otherwise quite a pleasant morning. I woke up a few minutes ahead of my artificial sunrise, feeling rested and cozy and warm. My morning routine was… routine (hearing aids and all). The drive to work was pleasant and uncomplicated, and traffic was light. The office is comfortably warm and quiet. The details of the day ahead seem well-planned, and I feel relaxed and confident. All things considered, a very good day for this one individual human being.

I made the mistake of peeking at the news headlines. This terrifying new administration is already getting going with excessive zeal with their attack on immigrants, without regard to the rights of citizens, military veterans, or consideration of basic human decency – it’s appalling, and shameful. Attacks on the basic human rights of women are already beginning. Attacks on the fundamentals of democracy itself, too. The whole thing is a grotesque mockery of anything to do with America. I don’t know what I expected, and I guess I’m not surprised; when someone tells you who they are, believe them. The voters knew they were electing a misogynist xenophobic criminal fraudster in November, and they did it anyway. Horrifying, yes. Shocking, maybe. A surprise? No, not really. Maybe we’ll learn something and start providing education in emotional intelligence, and critical thinking, in K-12 education after this mess is sorted out? At least that ignorant huckster in the President’s office isn’t fucking immortal. (Note to self: don’t read the news. You know it’s terrible, already. Definitely don’t read the comments – that’s where the trolls live.)

Seriously. Just don’t. 🙂

I breathe, exhale, and relax and let that shit go. I pull myself back to this “now” moment, this place, this time. I’ve got enough to do in front of me, and plenty to take care of without getting myself all stirred up over things I can’t fix or prevent. That won’t stop me from being compassionate, aware, or speaking up when I see this bullshit going on. I make a note on my calendar to write to my elected representatives – that’s still a step worth taking, though it often feels futile. I stay committed to being frank about my thoughts on these trying times with friends, neighbors, even casual strangers when the topics come up. I refuse to pretend I don’t care, or to stand silent in the face of cruelty and injustice. I’m just not okay with that.

Another breathe. Another moment to relax and bring myself back to “now”. Trying times. I smile to myself, and give myself a moment of compassion. I’ve seen a lot in 61 years, and some of it has been bad. This too shall pass. For real; change is.

I take a phone call. Finish my writing. Begin again.

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Categories 2024 Election, Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being, The Big 5, War and News of War, winter
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