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Unsolicited Advice

July 7, 2024 //
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It’s going to be another hot summer day. I remind myself unnecessarily to drink enough water (meaning, specifically, more than usual). Seems likely that the remaining summers ahead for human kind will continue to be hot and then hotter, unless something changes. Stay cool. Take care of yourself. Avoid punishing manual labor in the heat of the day. Be alert for signs of heat-related illness and take steps sooner than later.

Another hot summer day ahead.

I woke early and slipped away into the earliest hint of dawn. The morning air was still and felt somehow warmer than the 67°F than it was. Yesterday the morning felt warm at 60°F. Tomorrow it’ll no doubt feel warmer still at some higher temperature. The nights are not cooling off completely and the days are getting warmer, too. Summer.

The sun rose an irritable looking orange at the edge of a hazy pink horizon, as I drove to the trailhead. It was vivid and beautiful, particularly the view as I came around a bend in the road, with Mt Hood silhouetted a deep smudgy lavender against the vibrant colors of the dawn. I love that particular view, and I am forced to enjoy it in the moment; there’s no place to stop, there, so no opportunity to get a picture, and I never know ahead of time what beauty may appear – and quickly disappear – as I come around that bend in the road.

So here it is another day. Another hot one. I walked my walk, taking note of the increasingly warm temperatures as I walked. Drinking water. At my halfway point, I sit awhile watching and listening. I update my list of things to get done today. I drink more water. I write these few words. The warm humid morning and sense of sharing the trail (though I don’t see anyone else) push me to maintain a brisk pace, and I am eager to get home and have a shower. I’m unpleasantly sticky with sweat.

I walk on, thinking thoughts of balance, perspective, moderation, and sufficiency. I breathe, exhale, and relax, grateful to have remembered to take allergy medication this morning. I watch the sun rise as I walk, and now I am distracted by having to pee. Still drinking water.

I approached the parking lot (and the restrooms), unsurprised to see it nearly full. It’s clearly time to begin again.

… Stay cool. Be safe. Drink water. Know your physical limits. Wear sunscreen if you’re going outside. Take care of yourself; you matter. Be careful with those spoons…

An update, some time later, same day…

My Traveling Partner woke shortly after I arrived home, and not in a good mood. His sleep was interrupted and less than ideally restful. He’s had a change of medication, too, and it’s causing considerable irritability. He’s aware of it, and alerts me (and the Anxious Adventurer) of the situation, asks for our patience, and suggests we keep our distance as much as possible. Practical advice, and I plan to take it. There’s little about my to-do list that requires participation or even input from anyone, so I figure I can keep myself productively occupied for much of the day.

…First things first, a healthy breakfast salad, and a nice cup of tea…

I queue up my art video playlist for some study time over a bite of breakfast. A good beginning, suited to the day ahead, beating the heat. Next, after breakfast, I’ll tackle the housekeeping chores while the day is still cool… I may even paint with these new pastels, today! 😀 I sip my tea and hope that my partner’s experience of the day improves once he is fully awake, and has had his coffee. If not then, I hope he finds a suitable opportunity to begin again, and finds his success there.

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

Seeing Through New Eyes

July 6, 2024 //
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My choice of trail this morning is a bit crowded. Summer mornings often find me sharing the trail, even at this early hour. I can already feel that it’s going to be a hot day, too. Things cooled off during the night quite a lot, but it was warmer when I stepped out of the house than it has been, by several degrees. I’ve a few things I’d like to get done while it’s cooler, before the heat of the day settles in.

A new day.

I finally got started on my soft pastel adventure yesterday afternoon. A change of preferred artistic media is… complicated (at least for me). I’ve been a painter in acrylic for decades. It feels comfortable and natural to me. Pastels are new, novel, and unexplored previously. I’ve got my pastels ready, and for me the next step is study. This is much easier than it was back when I began with acrylic, or even further back in time, to my watercolor origins. Now I can easily queue up some YouTube videos of artists working in pastels and just watch them work. I sometimes find that even a very artistically “fluent” artist may not really understand what they are doing as they do it, and the discussion is a distraction. I finally turned the sound off and just watched various artists (whose end result spoke to me), while I listened to music. I greatly value watching an artist work in their chosen medium.

… I learned a lot through observation…

This morning the world “looks different” as I walk along the trail between river and marsh. There’s a mist clinging to the ground in the low land at the water’s edge, and the early morning sunshine is dazzling, illuminating leaves and stalks of meadow grass. I look at my surroundings in the context of painting the scene using pastels instead of acrylic. My perception and understanding of what I see is altered. I walk, eyes open with wonder and curiosity. “How would I capture that?” Is an unspoken question, repeated frequently.

… I keep walking…

The sun rises higher. The light becomes brighter, bolder, harsher. Shadows shift. Colors change. I walk and watch.

Voices approaching from behind me startle me from my reverie. I pause and let a small group of photographers walk past. I stop where I am to write and reflect, finding myself eager to “get on with things” in order to knock out my list of crap that needs doing, so I can get back to my studies and subsequently take advantage of this wellspring of inspiration welling up from within me. I’m eager to give the new pastels a proper exploration and see where they take me creatively.

More voices. More people. The trail is too crowded for a creature such as I. lol I stand up and prepare to head back to the car to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, art and the artist, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Practices, Summer, The Art of Being

A New Day, A New Beginning

July 5, 2024 //
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I slept well in spite of the noise of fireworks going off well into the night. I woke occasionally and quickly sank back into sleep. I woke up at my usual early hour, no alarm set at all. I rose, dressed, and slipped away quietly into the early light of a summer dawn.

It’s a lovely morning. The sunrise began with streaks of peach and pink clouds across a hazy mostly clear sky. It’s going to be hot today.

I find myself straddling past moments of recollection and future moments of speculation, in this pleasant quiet “now”. The paved portion of this trail is quiet beneath my feet. Small birds explore the weeds and grass for tasty bits as I walk past. The air feels soft on my skin and I hear the sound of distant traffic… and my tinnitus. Squirrels play, chasing each other up and down and around the trunks of trees along the trail. I breathe and walk.

… Summer…

I let my thoughts wander freely as I walk. My Traveling Partner’s surgery is scheduled. I’m not fretting over that; I’m hopeful. Grateful. Eager to see him well (repaired?). I’m thinking ahead to getting some real downtime, sometime beyond the most critical recovery time immediately following his surgery. I’m eager to have a few days alone, spent on creative work and solitary reflection, unconstrained by the requirements of caregiving and service to hearth and home. I’m tired frankly, and any rest I get and all the resilience I can build, have been almost immediately consumed by the next need, week after week, for months. I’m not even complaining; I have been needed and also appreciated. My Traveling Partner has shown me great consideration, love, and gratitude, and I have no resentment in my heart. I’m just tired and eager for him to be himself at 100% again.

I don’t yet have anything specific in mind. Camping? A hotel holiday on the coast? A trip to some glittering metropolis? A quiet stay in some remote bed and breakfast? A stay at some monastery that hosts retreats? “Spin the wheel” and just show up at the airport or train station and grab the next cheap seat to somewhere at random and figure it out when I get “there”? Options.

Rather unrealistically, I want to be sitting in my Granny’s kitchen on a lazy summer morning, listening to the sound of seabirds and the tides changing along the marshy edge of Mine Creek. I’d like to make a cup of fairly terrible drip coffee and pour it over ice, and take it out to the porch, with my pastels and my sketchbook, and while away the cool morning painting landscapes of the shore along Frenchtown Rd. My heart aches for qualities of peace and serene beauty and the joy of solitary moments I don’t find often these days. The world is complicated and messy, as are human beings with their violence and villainy, their petty deceits and corruption. Peace is sometimes hard to find, and difficult to cultivate. I feel momentarily homesick for places that no longer exist outside my memory, and a bit lonely for people dear to me who are gone now.

… Strangely sentimental morning…

The sky is a brilliant clear blue as I finish this bit of writing. The morning is beginning to warm up already. It’s time to head back up the trail to the car, and back to the house to start the work day. I sigh to myself and remember to take my morning medication. It’s already time to begin again…

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Categories Allegories, art and the artist, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, loneliness, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being, Uncategorized

Independence Day Celebration

July 4, 2024 //
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Nice morning for walking. The sunrise was a bit hazy in the distance, but the air is still cool and mild. The heat expected this week will probably develop later in the morning. I walked along this favorite local trail, planning to do the entire loop, as I did yesterday, but I got to my “halfway point” and took a seat to rest, reflect, and write…as much because my knee is hurting as anything else. I’ll go back the way I came and settle for the shorter distance. Seems wise.

Summer sunrise.

It’s Independence Day here in the U.S… For me, this day represents more than an element of national identity. I have literally become independent of some difficult experiences on this day. I left my violent first husband on a July 4th. I finished basic training on July 4th. I finished my military service just a few days after a July 4th. My Traveling Partner and I moved into a home of our own on July 4th, too. Just seems like a lot of (my) summer milestones happen on or around July 4th. I’ve gained or regained my independence from something many times… totally worth celebrating. I’m not sure firing off various sorts of colorful ordnance is properly the way to celebrate one’s independence, but it’s an American holiday, so… maybe? lol

Are you feeling trapped? How will you gain your independence? How will you regain your freedom? You have so many choices…

My knee aches. My head aches. My back aches. I’m tired this morning after a night of weird dreams of fighting for my freedom and arguing for my personhood. My tinnitus is ridiculously loud in my ears. I’m not listing my aches and pains for any particular reason, just being aware of them and the way they can potentially encroach upon my quality of life, this morning. I’d love to be independent of these experiences!

…I could use a good cup of coffee…

I sigh out loud, feeling myself relax with my exhalation. Breathe, exhale, and relax. Repeat. Again. I sit awhile with my thoughts. This moment feels so free and easy, in spite of pain. In a few minutes I’ll resume walking, head back to the car, and return home to share the day with my Traveling Partner and the Anxious Adventurer.

… Maybe I will finally find a moment for those new pastels…

Freedom comes in many forms, but rarely happens by chance. How will you free yourself from the things holding you back? Where does your path lead? We become what we practice. What are you practicing? Are you the person you most want to be?

It’s a good time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, art and the artist, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Practices, Summer, The Art of Being

The Best Advice

July 3, 2024 //
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Beautiful sunrise. Good morning to get a walk in. I’ve had the trail to myself, and watched the sunrise as I walked. Lovely.

Every day, every journey, begins somewhere.

The weather forecast indicates there is an extreme heat warning for the latter portion of the week, possibly record-breaking. I checked with my Traveling Partner about whether there were steps we might need to take to stay comfortable and ensure our AC functions properly. I’ll make a point to stock additional beverages and cold foods, so we won’t be required to cook using the oven or stovetop for long periods of time. I’ll drink more water.

…”Drink more water” is excellent hot weather advice, but there’s something quite limited about even the very best to bits of advice; it only works when actually taken. There are verbs involved. If we receive great advice but choose to disregard it, instead of applying it, our failures and misadventures thereby are of our own making. No one to blame but the person in the mirror. We for sure can’t claim we didn’t have guidance or that the advice was ineffective. lol

Why do people get great advice and then choose not to follow it? I don’t have an answer, I’m just wondering. I mean, actually, I can come up with several possible answers, but I don’t at all know which are likely to be most correct. Maybe we don’t trust the advice to be accurate? Maybe we don’t find the source to be credible? Maybe we think we’re a special case and the norms don’t apply to us? Maybe… maybe mostly… we’re just not really listening in the first place? That seems likely… people are pretty crappy at listening to someone else talking.

… Maybe sometimes there’s too much new information to process…

Are you listening to the good advice you’re given? Do you use it?

My neck aches ferociously this morning. I think I “slept on it wrong”. Ouch. The pain colors my experience unpleasantly. When the time comes, I take my morning medication, grateful to be able to add prescription pain relief, grateful to have it available, hopeful that it will bring some relief. I stopped on the trail several times trying to “work the kinks out” by practicing the release and self-massage techniques my chiropractor taught me. These are often quite helpful, this morning they are less so. I still make the effort. The headache that rises from the pain in my neck spreads like flames across the left side of my face. Occipital neuralgia. Fuuuuuuck. “Just kill me now”, I snarl quietly to myself, though I don’t mean it literally. I just hurt. I stretch. I breathe. I keep walking. This too will pass.

I reach my halfway point and keep walking, lost in my thoughts and preoccupied by my pain. This trail is a loop. Though I often walk out and back, a shorter distance, the full distance of the loop isn’t unreasonably far. I laugh at myself; looks like I’m going the distance this morning. I have time. Anyway, I’d be shit to be around this morning, and my Traveling Partner was already up when I left. No reason to rush back with my bitchy cross mood intact. I sigh as I walk.

… I should probably begin again. That’s pretty good advice…

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Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Practices, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being, turning 60, women
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