Archives for posts with tag: CBT

I woke groggy from a deep sleep, and couldn’t immediately recall why I had set my alarm on a Sunday.

… Only it isn’t Sunday at all, it’s Friday…

Right. I’m off today for the Equinox. I’m up early to see the sun rise.

Welcoming the dawn, taking a moment for quiet joy and reflection.

I made it to the trailhead in time to see the first hints of dawn begin to color the horizon. It’s a gray Spring morning, quite overcast, and smelling of rain and green things sprouting all around. The meadow and marsh are looking less brown. The trees are full of little birds, and squirrels are playfully sprinting past me in the grass as if I might chase them. After yesterday afternoon in the garden, I ache all over, and would not be chasing the squirrels even if I were inclined to do so, which I’m not.

I’ll be in the garden again today, later. It’s that time. There is so much to do! Weeding mostly, this time of year, and some pruning (which I finished yesterday). Early seeds, like peas, should have been planted months ago, but my fall laziness paid off in consequences; the garden was not ready for planting. After I catch up on all of the preparatory work, I’ll plant young starts and enjoy them every bit as much as watching seeds sprout. There are lessons to be learned in the garden.

A small brown bird stops on the fence rail next to me, rather close. I stop writing to avoid startling her with my movement. We sit together for a couple minutes, then she looks at me and sings a little song before flying away. A good omen? Perhaps. If you’re into that sort of thing.

I think about the world, and it’s a crazy terrifying mess. Not humanity’s finest moment, if we’re being honest, is it? I sigh to myself and come back to this moment here. The coming of Spring… only… Spring got here weeks ago. But it is the Equinox, for me that represents balance and renewal. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I take a few minutes for meditation. As I sit, a small herd of deer wanders by, all does. They watch me with soft brown eyes as they pass me one by one. They cross the trail, heading into the meadow towards the marsh ponds. They are not troubled by the state of the world.

I reflect on the lessons of deer and of gardening. Life has a lot to teach us, when we live it. That’s worth considering more closely. I smile to myself and to the plump robin rustling breakfast from the ground beneath the leaf litter at my feet.

I welcome the Spring and the dawn of a new day. It’s time to begin again.

[No AI was used to create or edit this human content.]

Yesterday was a good day, a better than average Monday. I arrived home from work with a headache, an unfortunate result of working from a seat at the library where the afternoon sunshine was directly on my face. “A sunshine headache,” the sort of thing I find difficult to explain. Surviving head trauma can have some peculiar lingering consequences, and in my case those include this particular type of headache (which were much worse when I was younger but still occur in a dim fashion now). It didn’t last; I spent awhile contentedly doing my own thing in a quiet darkened room and it passed.

We often have the tools we need for the circumstances we find ourselves in.

For me, it was a pleasant evening. I am not certain what kind of experience everyone else was having. I managed to refrain from allowing concerns about experiences that are not my own to overcome my experience, and instead simply lived my moment. I slept well and deeply. The night passed uneventfully. I woke early, earlier than usual.

When I woke, I noticed my Traveling Partner was already up. I could have made assumptions about why he was up so early, but doing so could potentially lay the foundation for stress or misunderstandings. Instead I observe that he is awake and leave further understanding for later on, when I have more information. I dress and go through my morning routine, and head out for the day. On my way, I pass my beloved, in the open doorway to the deck, breathing the cool morning air. I say good morning. He returns my greeting with a few words of explanation. I depart without disturbing his peace, nor does he disturb mine.

All of this to say we are making choices. It’s not fancy or particularly complicated. We choose our words and choose our actions. We choose peace or we choose something else. Our choices definitely matter. We become what we practice. We create the person we are with our choices.

Who do you want most to be? How do you want to be remembered?

I sit at the trailhead, waiting for daybreak to come. It is a mild morning, and the warmer Spring days after so much rain have created slippery conditions on this trail, even on paved portions. Moss is growing over the trail in places. Fallen leaves, partially decomposed, are slick mats waiting to create a slip and fall accident for some unwary walker. I choose caution – and a bit of daylight. I reflect on choices and change, and preserving my peace under challenging circumstances.

I don’t look at the news this morning. Why would I? I already know enough about what’s going on to function in society. More would be too much. I’m taking “preserving my peace” pretty seriously. If asked, I would encourage our leaders to do the same; preserve peace. I doubt they would listen to me; they are making too much money off of war and enjoying the thrill of having so much attention. I find the whole mess distasteful and frankly crass. Humanity could do better.

Choose your actions and your words with care. They have consequences.

Daybreak. The first hints of the new day dawning reveal a stormy overcast sky. The forecast says the day will be warm, like yesterday. I look down the familiar path, feeling capable and prepared, and ready to begin again.

What will you choose? It’s your path to walk.

Today is “Pi day”. 😁 Pi day has always put a smile on my face since it became a thing I was aware of. Eat some pie. Celebrate some fun with numbers. Maybe take time to learn more about pi as a number. Have a little fun, and remember that math doesn’t change based on whether you understand it. You can learn it, it’s just a different language.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I reached the trailhead sometime after daybreak, just as sunrise began, but the clouds were positioned such that it wasn’t particularly colorful. A thin crescent moon hangs over the farm fields that become a seasonal lake with the autumn rain. This year it was Spring before that happened, and it is not the dramatic change it usually is.

A new day and an opportunity to begin again.

The marsh is soggy. The seasonal trail is flooded in places and not safe to walk. The all season trail is less fraught with obstacles and unlikely to be impassable at any point. It takes me alongside the Tualatin river, and there’s a very nice place to sit, there. I head out content to walk with my thoughts awhile. It’s enough.

Spring feels like it’s already here.

When I reach this “view point”, I stop and sit with my thoughts awhile. It is as different a day from yesterday as it possibly could be. I feel comfortable, contented, and unbothered. I feel lighthearted and wrapped in love. Feelings are feelings. Feelings are not rooted in factual objective circumstances. I’m okay with letting yesterday’s feelings go; they are part of yesterday. That was s different moment, a moment that has passed. I don’t benefit from clinging to it.

Little birds flit among the still bare branches of the trees and shrubs around me. I watch them with delight. This moment is enough just as it is. Later, I’ll begin again, for now I’ll just be here, enjoying the moment I’ve got.

First, I’m fine. I’m okay, and there’s nothing amiss in this moment. That is an important detail.

I woke abruptly to a loud noise and a sense that something was seriously wrong. I woke fully triggered and in “overdrive”, ready to react to danger – of whatever unknown type there might be. There was nothing going on of the sort I could do anything about, it was only a loud noise. A door slamming somewhere, but it could have been anything or nothing at all; along with the PTSD, I am sometimes afflicted with “exploding head” nightmares. So… suddenly waking up in a panic, fully triggered, is not an unknown sensation for me.

I’m okay. My Traveling Partner is also okay for most values of okay, though he didn’t sleep through the night. I’m grateful that he isn’t hurt. When I woke that was my first (only) concern.

I dressed and headed to the trailhead. It’s raining. Today I don’t care at all, and I’ll feel better after I burn off this adrenaline fueled energy in a healthy way. My heart is still pounding and I was trembling for awhile. In every practical sense, though, I’m okay. Years of practice have given me more resilience. Totally worth the effort, though at the time, in the moment, the discipline of practicing practices often feels a little pointless. There’s no obvious immediate return on the effort… Well… It’s subtle and not obvious. The gains are there.

…I pull on my poncho and find my headlamp…

This is my path and I’m walking it. 😄 A little rain isn’t going to stop me. I definitely need to begin again.

Seems to be very effective so far… probably doesn’t hurt that the path is mine, and that I choose it myself.

I get back to the car a bit damp but not drenched. The rain is still falling steadily. I couldn’t stop at my usual halfway point due to that bit of the trail being flooded, and the place I often sit being surrounded by a large muddy stretch and water. Nope. I just walked on. By the time I reached that point I was feeling relaxed and merry. Ready for a new day. It’s enough.

The path ahead isn’t always smooth and well lit. There are going to be rainy days. There will be obstacles along the way, and detours. Being prepared for those is sometimes a matter of acceptance and a willingness to adapt to circumstances. PTSD screams that something is an emergency, though nothing is “wrong” in that kind of way at all. Sometimes a noise is just a noise. Being able to bounce back once I’m triggered is a pretty notable win for me.

I breathe, exhale and relax. I take a few minutes for meditation in the car. It’s already time to begin again.

It’s a rainy morning. I reach the trailhead ahead of the sun and listen to the rain falling. I watch an interesting video, and wait for a break in the rain. I pull my rain poncho from my gear bin when I get my opportunity and set off down the trail in the darkness.

Even once I get to this convenient stopping point more or less midway, I’m still groggy. I’m struggling to really wake up. It’s my own fault, I guess. I woke around 03:00 having to pee, and went back to bed although my wake-up time was only a couple hours away. As I drifted back to sleep I remember thinking I was for sure at risk of achieving deep sleep but waking too soon. Getting up at that hour wouldn’t allow for a second sleep, and would have been much too early. I’d have risked resetting my sleep cycle. I sigh to myself. Groggy it is then, I guess.

I’m in more pain than I’ve been enduring most mornings lately. It’s annoying, but demonstrates how effective the new medication really is. I’m grateful for the medical science that produces effective medication and the agencies that oversee and assure quality and safety. I’m appalled by fuckwits attacking science, medicine, and safety standards. Fucking hell, fund the right stuff you giant jackasses. Healthcare instead of bombs, maybe? Also, get vaccinated, and only vote for knowledgeable ethical people to represent you in government. (And if your response is that there are no ethical politicians, I’ll point out that this may be the heart of the problem.)

I sigh to myself. I’m cranky with pain, waiting for my medication to kick in.

I sit with my thoughts awhile. There will be more rain. That’s the sort of place we live. Rainy, often. I’m okay with that. I like the rain. Anyway, it passes. Change is.

I’m slowly becoming chilly. It’s not especially cold, just chilly and damp. I regret not wearing an extra sweater or a base layer, but it’s fine. I get to my feet and get ready to begin again. I look down the trail as the rain begins to fall, and walk on.