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Golden Years

June 2, 2026 //
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I woke with a song in my head this morning. “Golden Years“, David Bowie…from sometime in the 70’s I think?  1976. An interesting year. His album Station to Station was one of the very first albums I ever owned. No idea why that was the song in my head as I woke… The song still lingering in my ears and my heart as I retired for the evening last night was very different, “End With You“, Benjamin Tod. Both are love songs, and certainly I’m feeling very loved this morning (as I did last night).

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

The waning full moon setting at dawn.

Another new day begins. I get up, dress, and water the lawn before I head to the trail for my walk. All very ordinary for the life I live now. My “golden years”? Yeah, maybe; I’m as close to living “happily ever after” as I’m likely to get, and it feels good to feel safe and to feel loved. Neither life nor love are “perfect” (whatever the hell that even is), but they’re pretty g’damned good, generally.

I sit with that thought at the side of this local trail as the sun rises, illuminating the stand of oaks that line this part of the path. The moon is a lovely pale pearl against the delicate pastel blue of the morning sky. Pretty. I smile to myself, thinking about a book and two new sweaters – early birthday presents from my beloved Traveling Partner who decided to give me multiple little gifts this year in the days leading up to my birthday, instead of all at once. I grin and swing my feet from my seat on this bench. I’m eager to wear the sweaters (they’re cute and cozy and suit my sense of style), and to read the book (it’s one I’ve been wanting to read). Today will be too warm for sweaters and there will be little time for reading, but these are temporary conditions and do nothing to dim my enthusiasm or change this feeling of being loved.

The sun lights the vineyard, and the clock keeps ticking. I remind myself to enjoy the time I have, “while I’m standing in it” – it’s the only time I’ve got! Now. The rest is either anticipation or memory. I breathe, exhale, and relax, and enjoy this moment.

… The work day will begin soon enough…

I smile like a kid and wonder what my next birthday present might be and what kind of birthday cake I might be enjoying when the day comes? My Traveling Partner knows so well how to delight me. I suddenly miss him with a ferocity that surprises me. He’s not gone, he’s at home, still asleep, and has yet to start his day. 😆 I’m as in love with him as I was the first time I felt his strong arms around me or the tenderness of his touch. I’m fortunate to know a love like this.

… What delights you? What little moments of good fortune put a smile on your face? I hope you make a point of enjoying every fleeting beautiful moment of joy that life brings your way!

I laugh when the song in my heart shifts gears unexpectedly. “Happy Together“… the Turtles? Weezer? Doesn’t matter, it’s the sentiment that matters. The joy. I’ve definitely got a few minutes for joy. Then it’ll be time to begin again. Hopefully I can pack my joy like a lunch and take it with me to enjoy all day.

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Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, joy, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, women, Words

A Masterclass in Being Human

April 29, 2026 //
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Wow. Yesterday, though. It got off to a great early beginning, and crashed into chaos when the morning skittered sideways unexpectedly colliding with mental illness (mine) that is generally well-managed to the point of being mostly forgotten. With my Traveling Partner’s recovery making such good progress, I’ve been making adjustments to my HRT trying to find the sweet spot between effectiveness and timing/dosage. This went very wrong yesterday. I may as well have been an adolescent girl screaming at her mother with no justification, only hormones. Fucking hell.

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

I 100% lost my shit over nothing at all – a bit of very ordinary feedback and a request to check my breathing while I was on my device (curled over it uncomfortably and possibly holding my breath). On another day I’d have said thanks and corrected my posture. Instead I had a massive tantrum over it, which exploded into a PTSD meltdown and a complete loss of emotional control. It was ugly. My partner tried to deescalate the situation, but I had lost my fucking mind, like, for real.

Detail from “Emotion and Reason” 2012

We eventually got back on track, which was frankly mostly to do with him. I trudged through a miasma of fucked chemistry and feelings of shame for much of the rest of the day. (Being mentally ill can be seriously embarrassing.) In spite of eventually recognizing the role my hormones (both my own and the artificial kind) played in the mess I made, I struggled to regain my feeling of balance. It took most of an uncomfortable and frequently paused workday to get things right. Adulting is hard.

… Dwelling on regrets is neither healthy nor helpful…

This morning? It is an entirely new day with new challenges, and I begin again, feeling hopeful and pretty much okay. I send a note to my GP about changes I could potentially make to my HRT and seeking advice. I have an appointment with my therapist later today. I sigh to myself, and check those off my list. Too much chaos, and for some reason I am regretting ever giving up an analog to-do list on a legal pad written in ballpoint pen, illuminated in the margins with commentary and little doodles. Why now, I wonder? The idea is enticing, though, more visual, more tactile, and just maybe more effective (for me; your results may vary).

This morning begins with phone calls (business) that I never could have handled yesterday. I complete them, feeling a bit unsatisfied with the outcomes. It is a sunny morning, though, and a lovely day so far. I don’t rush through my morning walk, although I got a later start than usual. Yesterday really fatigued me, and I woke only 1 minute ahead of my alarm. I dressed and slipped away quietly, hoping not to wake my beloved. I sit at my halfway point at last and wonder if I should work from the library today, at least for the morning? Seems wise, and would avoid disturbing my Traveling Partner’s rest. After yesterday, I know he really needs it. I find it quite hard to do battle with my demons, myself, I can’t imagine how much harder it is for him.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I sit thinking about yesterday’s blog post, the re-reading of which in the afternoon was part of how I began to get my shit sorted out. I never imagined, when I wrote those positive encouraging words how much I would need them myself, nor how soon. Humans being human. Mental illness is a really hard challenge – and maybe at its most complex and vexing when we heal enough to feel well generally. It’s easy to forget – I know I want to forget it, and even more so when things are beautiful and healthy and fun. Especially then. This is a massive pitfall, and a set-up for failure.

I watch the glow of early morning sunshine light up the treetops. We each have to walk our own mile, eh? What we practice matters; we become what we practice. Choose wisely.

I sigh and glance at the clock. Already time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, Healthy Living, Hormone Hell, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, War and News of War, women, Words

F* You In The Morning

March 25, 2026 //
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I’ll admit I didn’t expect to have love songs in my head this morning. I didn’t sleep well and my dreams were strange and disturbing. I woke up too early. I woke with a headache.

Trigger warning: emotions.

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

I dressed and noticed my Traveling Partner was already up. I managed to make a colossal mess of that, this morning, although I really tried to make a comfortable exit without causing any chaos or heartache. My excuse is that I wasn’t completely awake, yet. It’s not much of an excuse. I hurt his feelings terribly. That is the large and the small of it. By the time I reached the trailhead he had messaged me enough sincere and carefully worded “fuck yous” that what could have been a small misunderstanding between lovers resolved with patience and communication… wasn’t.

I walked the first half of my walk in tears, pretty much just hating humanity, the complexities of good communication, and wondering what the fuck love even means. I’ve still got a work day ahead. Looks like I’ll be starting the day wondering whether the love I think I share with my partner is real at all – which hurts so much I don’t have words, just more tears.

“Hurt people hurt people,” I whisper to myself through my tears, sitting here feeling foolish and exposed, by the side of a public trail. I’m embarrassed to have hurt my Traveling Partner’s feelings so badly, to the point that I feel hesitant to ever go back to my own house… which feels ridiculous when I see it in words. I feel hurt, myself. He managed to say some incredibly painful things, phrased for maximum damage. How do I measure the impact of emotional weapons? Shit can escalate so fast, out of some inocuous seeming moment, laying waste to to any feeling of emotional safety.

… When you hurt someone, apologize…

G’damn this sucks.

I sigh and try to regain lost perspective. I also stare into the face of my worst fear; that I will return home to find him gone, house emptied, our life together abruptly ended. The tears start all over again, but facing fears seems more effective than running from them.

My ears are ringing like crazy. My head aches, and my left arm feels numb. I’m annoyed by my perceived frailty right now, when I need my strength. I breathe, exhale, and… do my best to let this go. Emotions are fleeting. They don’t make a good substitute for thinking. I’m not having an easy time of it. I’m hurting right now. So is he, I’m sure.

I curse my first husband under my breath, and my father, too. The lessons learned in those traumatic relationships caused so much damage that I reliably face this sort of situation with real mortal terror, and actual fear of potentially deadly consequences. That seems so unfair to my Traveling Partner (and to me, now); he has demonstrated real love and kindness, without violence or mind games, and we’ve shared 16 amazing years together. My heart aches with confusion and uncertainty.

I sit with my tears, replaying every conversation over days and weeks like some sick game of “he loves me, he loves me not”, tearing my certainty of his love to shreds. I take a big breath of Spring air and blow it all out, watching my breath mingle with the fog. Chilly morning. I quietly chastise myself for being overly dramatic, for blowing things out of proportion, even for cowardice. That’s not really helpful, so I let that go too. I try to be a little kinder to the woman in the mirror; tears aren’t her best look, and she deserves better from me.

Fucking hell, I hope I’m not seeing the twilight of this relationship… that’s almost too painful to bear. That’s the big fear. I breathe, exhale, and relax. We’ve been through a lot in 16 years, this doesn’t seem likely to be the thing that ends a relationship like ours. Another breath, and I dry my tears, blow my nose, and notice daybreak has come. Coffee will be nice… This amount of emotion, stress, and drama is not sustainable…

Having a brain injury that results in difficulty controlling my emotions comes with some baggage. I do my best to keep things in perspective. I work to build and protect my emotional resilience. I seek to forgive easily, and to make room for the people I love to make mistakes and move on from those. I know I need that myself, far more often than I’d like.

I yield to the temptation to curse the new day; it’s off to a pretty bad start. I breathe, exhale, and relax, and begin again. I repeat the effort again. And again. As often as it takes to calm myself and face my fears – and my beloved – and begin the new day from a better place. Because moments are moments, and love is bigger than that.

My Traveling Partner sends me an apology for his harsh words. I send one back for my insensitivity and hurtful behavior. I look into the fog, seeing the trail ahead disappear into the mist. I can’t see where the path leads, but it is time to begin again. For real. I get to my feet and head for home.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, grief, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, The Big 5, women, Words

Between Rain Storms

November 24, 2024 //
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I got home yesterday afternoon, a day early. My Traveling Partner needed me; the careful plans intended to support his care for a couple days unraveled, so of course I hastened home. I was definitely annoyed at the necessity, and actually angry about the cause, but I didn’t (and don’t) hold any of that against my partner. He still needs considerable care, although he’s making quite a lot of progress. It wasn’t any fault of his that the backup caregiving fell through.

As soon as I got home, I started completing tasks that should have been handled in my absence: bringing the trash cans back from the curb, picking up the mail, opening packages that had been delivered,  and preparing a hot meal. Simple stuff. Routine and necessary, basic adulting and household upkeep. I’m still aggravated that none of this was handled. On top of that, and an indication of the basic lack of consideration and manners involved more broadly, I haven’t heard a single word of apology (from my partner’s son) regarding the necessity of my early return home. I’m annoyed by that on a whole other level. I feel like I don’t personally ask much of my partner’s (adult) son, and the disrespect and lack of consideration is seriously bothering me.

I sigh to myself. I have better things to do with my time than be aggravated by his bullshit, as annoying as it is. The Anxious Adventurer will find his way in the world eventually. I’m definitely feeling pretty aggravated with him presently. I let it go, again; it’s not personal, he’s just got a lot to learn.

I started down the trail this morning happy to be home, in spite of the early return. I’d stay home for my solo time if that were presently feasible, but my Traveling Partner can’t easily go elsewhere, for now. If I need solitary time, I’ve got to go somewhere besides home. Oh, well, I’ve got my walks and a few hours on weekend mornings that I can call my own. It’s tempting to waste time wishing I weren’t in so much pain, but it’s not helpful to bother with wishes. lol I walk on, grateful to be walking. Grateful for a good life and a loving partner.

I’m stuck under the limited cover of some evergreen trees, and it’s raining again. I’ll wait it out and finish my walk. Daybreak is almost here, and I’ll enjoy finishing the walk as dawn becomes a new day. I’ve got a bit of shopping to do, getting things together for Thanksgiving, and an errand to run for my beloved, then home to catch up all the housekeeping before it’s time to begin a new work week. Too much of the burden of the day-to-day maintenance of the household falls to me these days, and I tire easily, but I have the experience to recognize the need, the will to get shit done, and the considerate nature to want to. So, I do. I don’t resent the effort, I just have limitations and also needs of my own. It’s frustrating when I just don’t have it in me to get it all done, and I reliably choose partner, hearth, and home, over my own needs when I begin to run out of energy. That has consequences, and I know it.

My beloved encourages me to care for myself, but there truly are non-negotiable tasks that must come first. When my partner has fully recovered, I know he’ll do his part and also “make it right” with me; he loves me, and that’s who he is. I know how frustrating it is that he can’t do more himself right now; some of what he’d be doing if he could, I’m simply less skilled at, though I do my best.

The one detail that does cause me some resentment, is having to do more work for a third person in the household, instead of enjoying less work because there’s a third person in the household. I breathe, exhale, and relax; no point holding on to that negativity. It’s a temporary situation, and the less help I get, the more temporary it’s likely to be. That’s just real. I think for a moment how often I ask myself “how can I be helpful right now?”, and wonder if it’s strange that I do?

I shake off my irritation again. I have other experiences to spend my time on. I don’t care to be mired in bullshit and drama. There’s too much to do, and a holiday ahead. There’s a break in the rain, and I get to my feet and stretch. It’s already time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, anger, autumn, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, The Art of Being, The Big 5, women

Do Not Disturb

September 24, 2024 //
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Well shit, yesterday went sideways abruptly after what had been a very pleasant day. Tempers and hurt feelings flared. Perspectives on individual experiences clashed. Unmet and unstated needs collided with the force only human emotions can create in such a short time. “Unpleasant” doesn’t even begin to describe it. I said things that were incredibly hurtful and will be difficult to apologize for adequately, if that’s even possible (and I am ashamed of having lost my temper so severely). He said some terrible things I can’t unhear. We hurt each other’s hearts – and the appalling thing about it is that we are each the person the other turns to for love, support, understanding, care, consideration… all the things. The person we hurt so deeply is our fucking partner.

… I didn’t sleep much last night…

Even after things calmed down and some sort of apologies were offered, the pain lingered. I went to bed unhappy. I don’t doubt he did as well. The house was quiet when I woke. My heart was heavy. Still is. Can we come back from this? Tears well up with the question every time it crosses my mind. I behaved appallingly.

I make my Traveling Partner’s morning coffee, put out a fresh glass of water, and a glass of iced tea, with a couple of fig bars to start his morning when he wakes. I hope he sees these things as the gesture of love I mean for them to be. I can’t imagine my life without him…

I’m not sure how we got to “this place”, and I sure don’t want to stay here. I remember a very different “us”, even quite recently (although it’s hard to stay mindful of how recent it was and that these changes are the result of injury, infirmity, and legitimate struggle, that truly will pass). I can do better. I’m confident he can too, and even that he means to. The medications he’s on make him more volatile and less clearheaded (no less so while he tapers off). The pain and fatigue I’m struggling with shorten my fuse and I rather stupidly try to avoid burdening him with information about my condition (that he actually needs to know to do his best to support me as much as he is able).

… I failed us both last night…

Fuck. The refrains of annoying 70’s break-up songs play on a loop in my thoughts. I snarl back at the unwelcome “programming”. I push them aside, because the feeling of hopeless and wistful futility that wells up is really terrible. I put on actual music (grateful for the technology that puts it within reach). The most positive thing I can think of for the circumstances… The Monkees, “A Little Bit You A Little Me”. Nailed it. I listen to Davy Jones singing words that remind me of my partner’s own pleas for me to “talk it out”. There’s wisdom there and hope. Don’t we deserve that for – and from – each other?

I breathe, exhale, and relax. The path isn’t always smooth. I’m still glad we’re walking it together – I’d be pretty spectacularly lost without my Traveling Partner. I hope he still feels the same about me.

We’re in this together.

There are apologies and amends to make. Work to do, and to do better. My results clearly vary… And I need more practice to become the person I most want to be. I’ve got to begin again. I hope he’ll continue this journey with me.

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Categories anger, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, forgiveness, Frustration, grief, health, loneliness, Love, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, The Big 5
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