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Well, Hey, How About GFY

September 13, 2026 //
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My morning began the usual way, with waking up. It seemed fine. My headache is pretty bad, my arthritis less so. I get going and get gone, and head to the trail along the river. Seems like a good morning for it.

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

I had the trail to myself when I got started. That’s a nice treat, for me. The morning was off to a lovely start. (Do you hear that sound? A metaphorical shoe dropping…)

I set off in the darkness, headlamp on. Cloudy morning, and the darkness is thick, the air is still. I walk, alert and present, watching for hazards within the bobbing circle of light ahead of me. The trail is muddy and slick. I skid sideways a couple times, losing my footing in some bit of mud. I slow down. Take my time. Even late in the summer, the Willamette River is very cold. If I did fall in, it’s quite likely I would drown. I keep my steps cautious, grateful for my cane.

My Traveling Partner pings me a good morning greeting. The “good” part of that doesn’t last much longer, which sucks. There’s not much point breaking it down any further. Humans being human. (And that other shoe drops.) A missed opportunity to communicate yesterday becomes a problem today. I sigh to myself. What a shitty development. Feels as if this beautiful morning was wrecked over coffee beans, which strikes me as really peculiar, since we didn’t run out, and there was a new bag of good quality coffee beans available.  My recollection is that we hadn’t yet used up the last batch. Doesn’t matter.

In any case, this morning the magic eightball says… “Go fuck yourself.”

… Fucking hell, being human is complicated…

What matters is that my Traveling Partner started his morning with frustration and annoyance, and I lack the personal discipline to ignore the notification when he pings me while I’m occupied with other activities, and as a result, my morning peace is also wrecked (or at least interrupted), and my safety is at risk because I try to walk and text at the same time. Human. Fairly stupid, to be sure, but also very human.

So… This morning all is not well in paradise. I hurt too much to deal with anyone else’s crap this morning, even my beloved, so I’ll have to find something to do that puts plenty of distance between me and everyone else. Maybe that sounds “antisocial”, I look at it as self-care on a difficult day.

Right about now 100% of everyone who isn’t the woman I see in my mirror can fuck right off. It isn’t personal, I just don’t have enough in reserve to take care of anyone else, presently. I’ve got shit of my own to do, a great mountain of which I’ve allowed to pile up unattended over the two years of intensive care my partner needed then. He reminds me regularly these days to put more energy into my self-care, and that he’s doing much better. I know he’s right – about both those things. 

I sigh to myself, sitting in a quiet glade along the trail, alone (and enjoying that). There are chipmunks playing in the berry thicket. Robins are scratching in the muddy soil looking for a convenient breakfast snack. The air smells like autumn, and the leaves are beginning to turn. The clock ticks on. The season is changing. The sunlight of a new day catches the treetops. Whatever else I may do today, I’m definitely going to begin again.

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

Some Monday

April 13, 2026 //
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I am awake. I’m groggy and clumsy with sleepiness I haven’t been able to shake off yet. Initially, I wasn’t sure what woke me from my deep sound sleep. I rarely get such sleep. I struggled to sit up, to disentangle myself from the hose of my CPAP mask. When I sat up the room was dark. What the hell woke me? I had a vague recollection of hearing my name called, and trying to understand what was being said to me.

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

I got up, dressed, and left the house, still wondering what woke me. My Traveling Partner messaged me on the way out. It wasn’t an apology for waking me. It was information about his poor sleep through the night. Context? The timing suggests he did indeed wake me, and it’s pretty close to my usual time, anyway. I shrug it off, yawn, and pull out of the driveway. Maybe my walk in the fresh Spring air will wake me more thoroughly?

… Sucks that he had a bad night, though…

I sat stupidly at the trailhead, in my car, for rather a long time before I was clearheaded enough to recall that taking actual steps would be required. I just wasn’t awake. Once I noticed I was “stalled”, I grabbed my cane and set off down the trail, my mind still quite foggy.

It’s a beginning.

Down the trail, past blooming cherry trees, and tall oaks. Past vineyards with tall green grass growing between the rows. Along the creek and the strip of forest growing along the bank, I walk listening to the loud calls of the robins and softer calls of a variety of small brown birds. Eventually, I reach my halfway point and stop for a moment. Mostly awake by this point, I sit and write, meditate, and reflect. New day, new challenges…

… Lovely weekend, now over…

It is a Monday. No dread, really, but little enthusiasm, either. I’m here. I’m ready to do the things, but the day ahead doesn’t fulfill any particular purpose of my own. It’s a job. I do the work, collect a paycheck, and live my life. I chuckle to myself, without merriment. Humanity could do better than this.

I sigh to myself. The air tastes sweet and I wish I were headed for some destination, and not to a desk and a digital workspace. I’d rather be at my easel or in my garden. I’d rather be sleeping in or drinking too much coffee at some sidewalk cafe in some forgotten little beach town somewhere, or hanging out with friends beside a crackling fire. This is not that time and I let it go. Clinging to some other moment or some desired moment that is not now robs me of the chance to savor this one. I smile and look at the many signs of Spring around me. A carpet of tiny yellow flowers in the grass beckons me to sit awhile… The clock is ticking, though, and I’ll soon have to begin again. It is, after all, a Monday.

One moment of many, insignificant by itself.

I get to my feet with a sigh, a yawn, and a sneeze, and turn to head back down the trail the way I came. It’s time.

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

War and News of War

March 1, 2026 //
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I’m sitting at the halfway point on this trail I’m walking. It is familiar and safe. The news feels distinctly less safe, so I refrain from looking at it. I know what war looks like, and I don’t need to ingest repetitive AI slop and propaganda retelling the approved narrative. I’ll sit here bird-watching instead. Nice morning for it.

Birds know better.

…Oh, make no mistake, I’d definitely like to see the people of Iran free to govern themselves under a system of government they have chosen for themselves. I earnestly hope our corrupt government’s almost certainly self-serving violence has the effect of also improving the lives of Iranian citizens. Any who survive it, I mean. I admit, I am curious how it seemed necessary to intervene with airstrikes and bombs in Iran, but not Ukraine, Palestine, Rwanda… You get where I’m going with this? We aren’t going to be told truthfully why we are intervening now, in Iran, but not the many other times a nation’s citizens have pleaded for our assistance. I am as certain as I can be that it is about power, and money, and oil. Gross.

Look for the beauty in the moment.

I sigh to myself and pull my attention back to the many birds on the marsh and in the oaks dotting the meadow here. Portions of this nature park were once farm or homestead land. The signs of that expose themselves each Spring as flowers begin to bloom. Varieties that don’t grow wild here grow here and there in little pockets, places once planted and cared for by people who are now gone. The flowers remain. Crocuses and daffodils, for now, and I think I spotted paperwhites back up the trail a ways. I am reminded of the battlefield memorial places I have visited. Revolutionary war. Civil war. Mexican-American War. World War I and World War II… I feel both privileged and saddened to have seen so many… You’d think a sentient relatively well developed species could do better… You’d be wrong. At least, you’d be wrong to think homo sapiens would do better. Are you kidding? We can’t even see past campaign lies and political rhetoric to vote wisely for our leaders.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. Fuck war. Do better, people. Our survival depends on it

I sit watching the little birds and wondering whether our perception of “intelligence” in living creatures is waaay off, and perhaps we’re just the dumbest fucking things around… too stupid to enjoy our lives and each other, or to appreciate this beautiful planet we live on. Honestly, that does seem pretty stupid, from the perspective of this moment, sitting on a fence rail between marsh and meadow, enjoying the sunshine and the company of little birds. I smile, grateful for this moment, and this place.

I swing my feet and am reminded that my boots are worn out. I found new ones I like during my shopping yesterday, but the local retailers were selling them for more than twice the manufacturer’s price – for a model from 2023! A quick check of their website resulted in a purchase… and some wait time for them to arrive. I have learned the value of waiting.

It’s been a good weekend for self-care, and a recommendation by my Traveling Partner with regard to my pain management seems to have resulted in notable improvement. I feel pretty good. I’ve a few more things I can (maybe should) do for myself this weekend. I’m reaching the point of awkwardness, when I begin to question whether “this is too much”, but that’s just bullshit and baggage. I can let that go.

I sigh happily, feeling the sun warm on my back, and grateful that no bombs are dropping here. I see fellow travelers approaching on the trail. I hop down from the fence rail, feeling merry and light on my feet. It’s a good opportunity to begin again.

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Categories 2024 Election, anger, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, joy, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, War and News of War, winter, Words

Catching the Sunrise

March 7, 2024 //
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This morning I am starting my morning close to home. I started the morning on a nearby trail, and watched the sunrise as I walked. The sunrise was hues of orange, gold, and red, and the moment made of pure contentment. Satisfying. Also chilly. Actually, quite cold. At just 28° F, I am super glad I thought to dress quite warmly and always have gloves and a scarf in the car for such mornings. It was too cold to fuss with a camera.

The sky is now a beautiful clear blue. There’s some snow atop distant hillsides, and pockets of mist in the low spots along stream banks and rivers. Rays of sunshine have begun to reach the closest treetops. What a perfectly lovely morning.

It’s a work day. I’ll be working from home today, making it easy to help my Traveling Partner get to an appointment later. I pause for a moment of gratitude that I have the option to work where I choose. It’s a very useful detail. I sigh contentedly and sip my coffee. Just an Americano I picked up before my walk to enjoy afterwards, it’s satisfying and warms my hands. I relax with my coffee enjoying the quiet time between my walk and my workday. It’s a pleasant interlude.

My thoughts wander to the unwelcome experience of receiving a message from an ex this week. (My recently deceased dear friend’s first-born, specifically, seeking to let me know of their mother’s passing.) Rather rudely, the message was sent during the night, and interrupted my sleep, but I wasn’t surprised by the discourtesy. I acknowledged the message in the context of its intention and let it go at that. Almost predictably, my ex followed that up with a new attempt to engage me in dialogue. I turned it over in my head awhile, and even shared it with my Traveling Partner and discussed it with him for additional perspective. My thoughts on the matter didn’t change, and there are good reasons for having cut off contact after the relationship ended (14 years ago, now). Having identified the previously unknown phone number in my contacts as belonging to my ex, I archive the message thread without further reply or action. That, and these few words, are already enough time spent on it.

I sip my coffee, enjoying the relaxed feel of the day as it starts. I gaze into the blue sky, ready to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, The Big 5, winter

Busy, Then, Busier

December 14, 2021 //
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Stop.

Seriously, just put it all on pause for a minute or two. You’ll be fine. The work will wait. The pings and texts will wait too. That urgent whateverthefuck you just have to get done right now? Yep, even that will wait for a couple minutes. Take care of you for a minute. Breathe. Exhale. Relax.

Turn off the music. Quiet as much of the noise as you can control. Just sit for a minute. Another breath. Need a timer? I’ve got you… here, try this one. You’ve got two minutes for you, right?

…<sigh>… Feels good. Just a quiet minute or two…

There’s a lot to get done. Life sometimes feels so crazy busy that I walk around with a chronic lingering sensation of something being incomplete, unfinished, or forgotten. Sometimes, when I stumble on the thing driving that sensation, it’ll turn out to be something forgettably unimportant like being interrupted while reading a receipt, and having the sensation of “an unfinished conversation” that turns out to be with myself. lol I’ve found, more than once, that the “secret” to feeling less busy, less frantic, less consumed by the details… is to slow down. So. Do that.

Do it again.

Set expectations with yourself and others about how much you really can (or are really willing) to do. Take care of yourself. “Human” comes with some known limitations. Respect your limitations – and your boundaries. Tired? Rest. Hurting? Heal. Cross with the world? Take a step back and enjoy you for a little while. Recognize that everyone around you needs those same things – rest, healing, and time to just be who they are, and enjoy that experience.

Look, I’m not telling you what to do. I’m telling you what I’m doing – and going to do, and planning to continue to practice until I get properly good at it. It just doesn’t make any damned sense to be the person in the world treating me the worst. lol I am practicing treating myself – and my loved ones – as well as I know how to treat anyone at all. Every day. Every interaction. Moment by moment. I expect to fall short of my goals – maybe a lot. Failure is an option – pretty commonplace, actually – and we learn more from failures than from successes, so… there’s that. 🙂 You’re gonna fail at some things. That has to be okay. Start over. Begin again. Understand where things went amiss, and do something different or change the context. Just don’t give up on yourself. You have room to grow – and even that journey can be fun, and even pleasant, and rewarding, and filled with love. 🙂 Worth exploring, I think.

…I’m in so much pain today. Arthritis in my spine. Cervicogenic headache. The consequences of injuries, aging, and cold weather… and it seems so completely ordinary as to defy being worth bitching about…but here I am. I think I’ll just begin again, myself. 🙂 I’m certainly too busy to let pain tell me what to do. 😉

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Frustration, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Sleepless Nights, Summer, The Art of Being
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