Archives for posts with tag: be the change

Lush Life

May 24, 2025 //

What a beautiful morning! The sunrise was nearly over when I reached the trailhead. I hit the trail as soon as my boots were on. The sky was hues of tangerine and peach, and the sun was a deep orange as it rose. Mt Hood was a misty lavender silhouetted against the colorful sunrise and I walked eastwards, shading my eyes from the glare, full of a sense of wonder.

… I didn’t think to take a picture, I was immersed in experiencing the moment…

The trail takes a turn into the trees, if I bear left where it divides. Everything is so green! It’s that time in Spring when all the marsh and meadow grasses are rich hues of green, the trees are fully dressed in their Spring finery, and all of the Spring-blooming flowers present colorful accents to the lush assortment of greens everywhere I look. So beautiful! I walk with my thoughts, grinning to myself. Robins call to each other. A young blue jay follows my progress on the trail, flitting from tree to tree, watching me.

Later a bit of housework, maybe some gardening, definitely a stop at a local nursery to inspire (and soothe) me after yet another sighting of the doe eating my damned garden. I laugh in spite of my frustration. I’d rather deal with the deer than not have a garden at all.

I think about animes that we’re watching as a family, and their common themes of growth over time, and the will to act, and the need to persist in the face of hardship and challenges. I find them inspiring (even when a little ludicrous and exaggerated). There are useful moral lessons in those animes that are nothing to do with any one religion or school of thought, and everything to do with becoming one’s best self, and living ethically and making wise choices. They present stories of complexity and demonstrate the importance of compassion, consideration, and perspective. They teach with kindness, humor, and art. It’s a world worth exploring.

I sigh, sitting in the sunshine at my halfway point watching a doe standing quietly in the adjacent meadow, nibbling at the grasses. She bolts when I turn my camera in her direction and the picture I snap is blurry.

I sit awhile longer with my thoughts, ignoring physical pain in favor of enjoying the sunshine. I should definitely make time for the garden…

I breathe, exhale, and relax. Lovely morning for it. I wonder where the day will take me? The air smells sweet with wildflowers. I sneeze a couple times and laugh at myself – I don’t care about the sneezes nearly as much as I enjoy the fragrance of flowers. I’m glad I shoved a pack of tissues in my pocket, though. Handy. Another breath, another moment with my thoughts. Soon it’ll be time to walk back down the trail and begin again.

Tags art and life, be here now, be the change, begin again, being and becoming, happy place, life lessons, love matters most, practicing the practices, results may vary, self-care, self-reflection, spring flowers, walking my own path, watching anime

Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Practices, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being

Change It

May 9, 2025 //

I’m sipping my coffee, back aching, and contemplating the day ahead of me. The world seems ever to be in turmoil, and I find myself wondering if maybe that’s just the way of worlds? Humans being human, stumbling in the darkness, failing to live up to their own expectations, trying and trying again – sometimes without changing what they’re doing that didn’t work the first time. We’re strange creatures; we have immense capacity for reason and intelligent thought, but often choose not to make use of it. Isn’t that strange? We have the power to change how we feel and what we do, how we experience the world around us, what we think of this or that, and to deepen our understanding and knowledge over time, to choose differently based on experience and learning, and sometimes we just… don’t bother. Isn’t that peculiar?

The weekend ahead of me is filled with choices and opportunities. Will newly started seedlings have enough roots to be ready to plant into the new little solar hydro garden that my Traveling Partner made for me? Will the deer eat more of my tomato plants? Will I find a pair of jeans that fit as well as this pair that is falling apart and can’t really be worn anymore in spite of being my favorite pair? Will I make “the perfect cup of coffee” and manage to enjoy it before it gets cold? Will I take time to finish the book I’m reading? Will I paint or write poetry or gaze at the stars in the hour before dawn? Will my Traveling Partner delight me with some unexpected token of his affection crafted for me by his loving hands? Will the Anxious Adventurer share a funny meme, or cook a tasty meal for the family, or give me a hand with the irrigation project for the west side garden? I think about the possibilities without setting expectations or making assumptions. The possibilities are nearly endless – what brings them to life will be the choices we each make.

…”Choose wisely,” I remind myself, “the clock is ticking”…

Still, choices or no choices, actions or no actions, busy or not-so-busy, it’s worth making time to also simply enjoy each moment. Like the roses in my garden, each moment is unique. Unrepeatable. “Once in a lifetime”, however similar it may seem to some other moment quite like it. Being present – really present – slows the clock, and enriches each experience. Mindfulness as a practice has its greatest value in that quality above most others; presence. It teaches presence. It’s a practice, though, and it requires effort, and the doing of the thing. There are verbs involved, and choices. It’s not a passive happenstance that I can count on, it’s a choice I have to make, and a practice that requires practicing.

I sit more fully upright, hoping to ease the arthritis pain in my back. I’m aware of it there in the background. Does it hint at a change in the weather? Is it due to effort or strain? Does that even matter? I sigh quietly to myself and take something to ease the discomfort somewhat. I sip my coffee, and enjoy the moment without regard to the pain. Escaping it may not be an option, but neither do I have to let it control me.

Feels like a good day, generally. If it didn’t, I could choose to change things about my experience and perhaps improve it. That’s not necessary today; I feel okay for most values of “okay”, and I’m not weighed down by the foolishness, violence, and sorrows of the world. Not right now. It’s a pretty morning. There are flowers blooming in my garden (and beyond), and the day feels sort of “easy”, generally. I sit with that feeling, grateful and appreciative, not wanting to waste the moment by rushing it or taking it for granted, although I’m eager to get to the other side of the work day, and head home to my beloved and my garden.

I breathe, exhale, and relax, gazing out the window in front of me as cars stream into the parking lot below. It’s that time. Time to begin again.

Tags be here now, be the change, begin again, choose change, choose wisely, emotional self sufficiency, Ichi-go ichi-e, life, meditation, mental-health, mindfulness, personal growth, perspective, practicing the practices, pro-choice, taking care of me, The Art of Being, the freedom to choose, the power of choice, the Strange Diner, there are verbs involved, Vita Contemplativa, we become what we practice, you have choices

Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, joy, Love, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, Roses, Spring, The Art of Being

Around the Bend

April 29, 2025 //

There is a future, and the details of the specifics are unknown. Mostly, things will probably be fairly ordinary, because generally speaking, they are. I think about that as I walk, and wonder, and plan. No amount of planning and thinking will directly change the future, but it may lead to better choices.

I think about my garden as a metaphor. I can calculate the average yield of each plant I’ve planted, and plan ahead to do the necessary work, but these actions don’t determine what my harvest will actually be. My plans won’t determine what I actually get done. Circumstances will be what they are. I’ll know the outcome when I get there, and weigh the harvested produce. Will it be abundant? Will it fail to be sufficient? I can only guess, do my best, and hope to be prepared for all of the most likely outcomes.

Yesterday was sunny and pleasantly warm. I spent time in the garden in the evening after dinner. It felt like summer approaching. I planned to do some gardening on my breaks today (working from home). I woke to rain. It’s not raining heavily or steadily, though it obviously rained quite a lot during the night. I still manage to enjoy my walk. Drizzly now, but not raining hard. It’s not a good day for gardening though. It is sloppy and muddy and my arthritis is giving me a bad time. Yesterday, my view of today was obscured. I didn’t see this rainy day coming.

I sigh to myself as I walk, and I’m all the way back to the car before I take a moment for meditation and writing; my favorite stopping point on this trail was soaking wet and surrounded by mud.

I definitely don’t know what the future holds. Probably a lot more of all of the usual, which could be a bit of a buzzkill, until I consider how much of that future is within my control to at least some degree, all the time. I may not be certain of the outcome, but I do have a lot of choices. I can create and embrace change. I can hold space to succeed and to fail, and to find my way regardless of the circumstances. I can practice and build emotional resilience, contentment, and joy. Being present in this moment makes the journey a slow pleasant walk into a future I feel mostly pretty prepared for. Practicing non-attachment ensures that the bend in the path ahead is part of the journey, and not a cause for anxiety.

I smile to myself. My awareness of pain doesn’t make the morning less pleasant, only more human. I breathe, exhale, and relax, and prepare to begin again. The clock ticks. The sun rises. The rain falls. The journey continues.

Tags be here now, be the change, begin again, contentment, drawing a better map, emotional resilience, garden design, how to build a garden path, introspection, it's a big menu, meditation, non attachment, osteoarthritis pain, rainy mornings, results may vary, self-care, the future is unknown, the map is not the world, the plan is not the experience, the secret to true happiness, walk on, walking my own path, we become what we practice, what are you practicing?

Categories Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, joy, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being

Moments and Flowers

April 27, 2025 //

I woke early, got to the trailhead after a peaceful Sunday morning drive. No traffic at all. My walk was quiet, solitary, and uneventful in every way. It was just me, the sounds of distant traffic and my footsteps, and the occasional song of a robin somewhere nearby. There were flowers blooming along the trail.

Flowers are a bit like moments, aren’t they? They are brief and often quite beautiful, some more impressive than others, often regretfully fleeting, sometimes delightfully sweet. Lives are built on moments the way gardens and meadows are built on flowers; there is so much more to it than that, but it’s easy to overlook the underlying complexity distracted by the moment – or the flower.

Moments and flowers both have incredible variety. Some are intensely beautiful, others are quite subtle. Some are memorable to the point of creating a lasting impression or an archetype, others less so, becoming easily forgotten as time passes. Flowers fade and wither, their lives are short. Moments, too, exist and fade away, never to be repeated, each unique in some way.

I walked thinking about moments and flowers, both worth considering “from a distance”, and examined more closely. There is so much to learn from reflection on a moment, or from examining a flower. There is much to appreciate and enjoy being wholly present with either.

A worthwhile moment, considering a flower up close. An ordinary meadow flower, given a chance to become a moment.

The Spring air is fragrant with the scent of meadow flowers. My thoughts wander to my garden. The strawberries are flowering. Did you know that strawberry blossoms have a scent? The Swiss chard I planted has sprouted and the romaine is recovering from being nibbled upon by the deer. I planted tomatoes yesterday, and potted up the lemon balm I had sprouted. It’s a lovely tea herb, but a poor choice to plant freely in a garden bed; it will take over. Like the mint, I keep it potted. The clematis I added this year is thriving. The peas are climbing their trellis. The garden is a lovely metaphor for life.

Is your garden thriving? What have you planted there? Are you following a plan? Have weeds taken over? Your results will certainly vary (I know mine do), and there is so much work involved it can feel daunting to try to keep up. How we tend our gardens has a lot to do with how they grow and what we can harvest. It’s no good dreaming of plump sun-ripened tomatoes plucked from the vine if you didn’t plant any tomatoes to begin with! In every moment the choices we make matter, and guide our potential outcomes and future moments.

I smile and enjoy this quiet moment at meadow’s edge, smelling the flowers on the marsh breeze. Nice morning. I don’t mind that the clock is ticking, I’m not paying it any mind; I’ve got this moment to enjoy. I can begin again a little later.

Tags be here now, be present, be the change, begin again, breathe exhale relax, how to be present, Ichi-go ichi-e, introspection, it a metaphor, meadow flowers, meditation, mindfulness, moments and flowers, self-care, the garden as a metaphor, the path, the secret to well-being, Vita Contemplativa, walking my own path, we become what we practice, well-being and being well

Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, joy, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Practices, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being

Showers and Chills

April 22, 2025 //

This morning is a chilly one. Not quite freezing. There was a meteor shower peaking last night, but I didn’t stay up to see it, in spite of the likelihood of a clear night. It didn’t actually freeze overnight, and there was no frost on the ground where I live. When I got to the trailhead, I found a pleasant spot to watch the sky and enjoyed seeing Venus shining brightly, a beautiful crescent moon, and even a couple shooting stars. Worth a few minutes of time outside on a chilly Spring morning.

I breathe, exhale, and relax, and head down the trail as daybreak begins. Nice morning to put another mile on these boots. I think thoughts of Spring, and of camping. It’s still too chilly for sleeping on the ground (for me). It won’t be long before camping is a fun way to get a couple days of solo time. I’ve got reservations at a new spot, too, in July. I’m hoping to get a couple days of painting on the coast in June.

I feel restless and a bit distracted.

I sigh and keep walking to my halfway point, and stop to write and reflect. Hard to keep my mind focused on this present moment, here, now, this morning. I wonder why, before letting my thoughts wander on. I’m in pain on this chilly morning. I’m distracted by the lingering recollection of strange surreal dreams from which I woke just before my alarm. I feel sleepy and I’m certain I could go right back to sleep, but it is a work day. I watch the sky change colors.

I shake off my sleepiness. I get to my feet and look down the trail, past the vineyard. The clock is ticking. The sun is rising. It is a new day and it’s time to begin again.

Tags basic self-care, be here now, be the change, begin again, chilly morning, choose wisely, cold Spring morning, do your best, grateful for another sunrise, how many steps?, how to walk my own path, looking at the stars, meditation, pain management, self-care, self-reflection, unique moments, Venus, walking my own path, we are mortal creatures, we become what we practice

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

Lush Life

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Change It

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Around the Bend

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Moments and Flowers

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Showers and Chills

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