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Change

January 24, 2026 //
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I slept in. I reached the trailhead as the sun cleared the horizon, and after enjoying some lovely views of Mt Hood at sunrise on my way up the highway. It is a clear cold morning, frosty and breezy.

Dawn, and the mountain in the distance.

I thought to make my way around the nature park from the less frequented trailhead tucked out of the way along the west side of the park, nearer to the river. I’d forgotten that the trail on that side is part of the seasonal route; closed until Spring. I grab a shot of the sunrise and head to the main trailhead. As late as it is, this morning, there are only a couple cars in the parking lot. It’s too cold for most walkers, though it is now a few degrees above freezing. Photographers and dedicated bird watchers still show up – and me.

I reach my halfway point, grateful for the added warmth of my gloves, scarf, and hat. I sit awhile, watching small birds hopping among the bare branches of nearby oaks. Busy morning for small birds, apparently.

Which is the distraction, the many small birds, or the tangle of branches against the blue sky?

I sit with my thoughts awhile. “Other people’s drama”, mostly, pulling my focus from what I need for and from myself most. The amount of emotional energy any one of us has to put into supporting, avoiding, addressing, healing, resolving, soothing, or staying out of such things is sometimes pretty fucking ridiculous (and draining). We inflict it on ourselves through social media, we find it forced upon us in our relationships, we create it in some moment of frustration, disappointment, or misunderstanding. It’s all very messy and annoying. We could do better. Unfortunately, emotional intelligence, critical thinking, conflict resolution, and healthy communication practices are rarely explicitly taught as part of mainstream curriculum (definitely not in the US), and many of us only notice the lack in our own life and development when we finally breakdown to the point of getting (and accepting) real help. Most of us just get by on a DIY approach, changing problematic behavior only after it destroys some important relationship, or after our life “falls apart” as a consequence of our shitty behavior or lack of emotional control.

“Feel what you’re feeling, do what is right,” a monster used to say to me. (I didn’t realize then that through other eyes I might be viewed as a monster, myself. PTSD is a relentless adversary, and hurt people do hurt people.) I can’t say I learned many good lessons in that relationship – and I’m lucky to have escaped with my life. This phrase has continued to stick in my memory. It’s an important idea about choice and values and free will and could have been really useful guidance if I’d had more understanding of my emotional experience in the first place, or if I’d had a more clear understanding of what I thought was “right”, and where I stood in relation to my values. It is more useful now, however regrettable the source.

Human beings, being human. It’s complicated. Sometimes some pretty important basics elude us until we’ve made a mess of our lives completely. Sometimes we just don’t accept guidance we’re offered. People are complicated. We’re each having our own experience, but often behaving as though we have shared perspective, values, and understanding of circumstances – even though we barely manage to communicate clearly. Often we aren’t even listening to the Other, we’re just wary, defensive, and waiting to talk. We could definitely do better.

Who do you most want to be? How will you be remembered by those who matter to you most?

I sit listening to the wind blow. It’s a different experience with the hearing aids in. I ask myself what steps I would take to improve a valued but contentious relationship if it were critical to preserve and deepen that relationship? What would I tell a friend if asked? I think I’d begin with utterly basic practices, starting with the Four Agreements. (Nevermind mind the “woo”, these are really effective basic practices.) I might also suggest:

  1. Be sincerely curious – ask questions from a place of goodwill.
  2. Listen deeply.
  3. Assume positive intent.
  4. Remind yourself why this person and relationship matter to you.
  5. Behave with kindness.
  6. Do not escalate.

I know. Not the easiest list of practical suggestions. Feasible with practice, but so many verbs and opportunities for failure. It can be really hard to pause in some moment of temper and say in an honest and vulnerable way “hold on, I want a do-over on this conversation, this is not how I mean to behave.” Practice will result in incremental changes over time. No guarantees that people dear to you will stick around while you struggle to become the person you most want to be. Use your words. Do your best.

… You’ll definitely have to do the work involved in being a better version of yourself, all on your own…

…Yes, it’s real work, and a lot of it.

I guess I’m just saying, things are sometimes challenging in these human relationships. It can seem so unreasonable to have to work so hard at them. It can be so worth it! Do your best – and when you fail (and you will), take a breath, apologize sincerely for the harm you may have done, and begin again.

… Good luck! This shit is hard sometimes…

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Categories anger, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, meditation, Metaphors, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, The Art of Being, The Big 5, winter, Words

Step One…

January 1, 2026 //
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It is New Year’s Day, January 1st, 2026. I woke up early, no hangover, feeling pretty relaxed and comfortable in my body after a good night’s sleep. This is only surprising because quite a few of the neighbors were up well into the night setting off fireworks and celebrating the end of 2025. Sounded like quite a lot of enthusiasm to see it end.

I’d gone to bed early, still struggling with lingering symptoms of recent illness and just not feeling up to a lot of fuss and bother. The sound of fireworks did not prevent me from sleeping. No parties, no drinking, no fancy dinner, no company over to ring in the new year; it was a quiet evening at home. It’s not surprising that I slept well and woke without a hangover.

The year ended somewhat painfully, with one final “fuck you” from circumstances delivered on the last day of the year. My parked car was sideswiped by something while I was working yesterday, which I discovered when I left the office to return home. Fuck. For real?! I cried. I pinged my Traveling Partner for comfort and guidance (too upset to easily process next steps), then called my insurance company to file a claim, and then local police department to file a report. By the time I got home, I was merely annoyed, and managing to feel grateful it hadn’t been worse. The damage to the car is cosmetic, and I wasn’t injured. It definitely could have been worse!

I sip my hot cup of cheap gas station coffee, listening to the rain falling at this trailhead, and thinking about how much my choices create my experience in some circumstances, and how circumstances sometimes create an experience I didn’t see coming, in others. I still have to deal it, with regardless of my previous choices or circumstances. It’s a journey. I do have choices and something to say about the experience I have. Powerful. Knowing this does nothing to prevent me from being upset when things go poorly, just reminds me there’s a lot about it that remains within my capabilities to handle, manage, control, or deal with properly.

… I’m still mad, though, I mean, for real? I have lingering “why me?” feelings, but I’ve done what I can for now…

I left the house this morning feeling a muted sense of purpose, and undecided on what trail to walk. It was early. I’ve got options. It is a cold morning, but not freezing. As I get into the car, it begins to rain. My nose is running and I’ve started coughing – taking my noisy sleepless self back into the house would only serve to wake everyone else, too. I don’t feel like dealing with that, so I head out in spite of the rain. It’s not cold enough to snow – I guess I’m grateful.

Now I’m sitting here at the trailhead, waiting for a break in the rain, and maybe for daylight. There’s no traffic beyond the parking lot. The morning is quiet and suited to meditation and self-reflection. It’s a gentle beginning to a new year. I make a point not to look at the news; I don’t want to do anything that might break this fragile moment of peace and contentment. Not yet. Later will be soon enough to begin again.

…

…

…

… I can’t believe I’m still dealing with being sick… Maybe I’ll just go back to bed after I return home? Anyway… Happy New Year!

First light on the trail, first morning hike of the new year.
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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, breathe, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, meditation, Metaphors, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Practices, solo hiking, The Art of Being, winter

Wind and Rain

December 15, 2025 //
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I’m at a local trailhead, waiting for a break in the rain to walk this trail. It’s dark, not yet daybreak, and a Monday morning. The rain is falling hard, and the wind is blowing hard enough for the strongest gusts to create the appearance of waves on puddles reflecting the lights of the parking lot. If I were to walk now, I’d be soaked almost immediately, and having to fight my rain poncho every step as it whips about. No thanks. I’ll wait. 😆

The weekend was lovely. I sit thinking about the upcoming Giftmas holiday. It is shaping up to be a merry one, if modest in scale (appropriate to these peculiarly dark times here in the US).

My mind wanders to work. I pull it back to this quiet moment, here. Now is mine. At least, this “now”, right here is mine. I make a point to be present, here, listening to the wind and the rain. I think of other rainy moments that left lasting memories for one reason or another. In the distance, I see holiday lights shining through the trees along the creek beyond the vineyard, most likely decorating some otherwise hidden apartment balcony. Seeing the lights makes me smile. Seeing communities “dressed up” for the holidays in colorful lights is one of the best parts of the winter holiday season (to me).

Things on my to-do list for today continue to intrude on my consciousness – or try to. I continue to set a boundary with myself; this is not that time.

The rain stops, starts, and stops again. It’ll be daybreak soon. Can I get down the trail and back to the car before the rain starts up again? I decide to chance it, and grab my cane and pull on my poncho.

…

I’m most of the way along the trail before the rain begins to fall again, softly. I’m almost back to the car before the intensity increases from a soft sprinkle to a seasonally typical downpour. The heavy rain catches up with me just as I reach the car. I feel fortunate. I’m not soaked to the skin, missed the worst of the rain, got a good walk, and managed to avoid tromping through any deep puddles. I’m chilly and damp, but otherwise fine. I get comfortable in the car and start drying off with a microfiber towel from my gear bin, grateful for the gear I keep in the back for whatever emergencies might arise (and for hiking and camping).

The gear bin in my car sometimes gives a sort of “Mary Poppins” vibe; I often surprise myself with what is in there, and how prepared for what sorts of things I actually am. This delights me every time I open the bin with some need to address and find that I’ve got just the thing, although I often don’t recall that I put it there. 😆

The wind is blowing ferociously again. It almost drowns out the sounds of my tinnitus. I close my eyes and am fascinated by how much I am reminded of the seashore.

There’s really nothing particularly noteworthy about the morning. As is so often the case, it’s an ordinary weekday morning. The pain I’m in makes me aware of my fragile mortality for a moment, but as bad as it is, it’s not the worst I’ve known. Far from it. I’m grateful to experience the morning aware that things could be much worse; it is reliably useful perspective. I continue to sit with my thoughts awhile longer. I’ve got a little while left for myself before the desk in the library I’ll be working from today will be available. It’s still too early. I think about coffee.

I think about holiday cards (we haven’t done them this year and probably won’t; at some point I had to admit I don’t have the energy, or the will). I think about the last bit of gift shopping yet to do. I think about Giftmas morning and brunch. Biscuits and gravy this year? I find myself wanting to pair that with Bloody Marys, as my Dad would have done most Giftmas mornings. I rarely drink, and the thought makes me smile; it’s an idea built purely on nostalgia, and maybe some desire to celebrate a certain gratitude for the holiday magic my parents achieved in spite of hardship. I’ve carried that holiday spirit into the rest of my life, year after year, and I’m grateful that it continues to last.

Curtains of dense rain continue to sweep over the car. The wind rocks it with the firmest gusts. I am warm and dry, and grateful that I am not forced to be outdoors in this. There’s privilege implied in being free to choose to walk on a rainy day. I’m grateful for the choices I have in life. I may never be wealthy (nor have any notable affluence), but I do get to choose whether (and when) I walk in the rain. That’s more good fortune than many folks have. I sit thinking about that for a few minutes longer.

In spite of the darkness of the stormy morning sky, eventually daybreak comes, and it’s time to begin again. I sigh to myself, and get the day started.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, joy, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, The Art of Being, winter, Words

Weapon of Choice

July 17, 2025 //
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I got my walk in this morning, around the neighborhood where the office is located. It’s a pretty middleclass neighborhood, with few sidewalks and lots of lovely landscaping. The summer air was still and smelled of flowers, exotic and vaguely tropical. Very summery. The sun was up and the morning beginning to hint at the heat of the day to come by the time I got back to the office.

…The entire time I was walking, I had a favorite “big beat” track in my head, Fatboy Slim’s “Weapon of Choice“…

It was less about the music, this morning, than the words. I kept turning the phrase over in my head, “weapon of choice”… I’d always heard that as meaning “preferred choice of weapon”. This morning it hit me that it also means… choice, as a weapon (or tool). Huh. Words are fun.

We have a ton of choices in life. The menu of the Strange Diner is – in a practical sense – almost unlimited. (Limits we observe are often self-imposed.) Choice is an important tool in our toolbox, whoever we are, regardless of our circumstances. Volumes are written about choice and choosing and how to make choices. What are you choosing? Are your choices taking you where you want to go? Do they make you more the person you most want to be? Are you trapping yourself with foolish choices? Do the choices you choose to make tend to make the world a better place, generally, or… not? I don’t need the answers to these questions (from you) – but maybe you do? (I know what my own answers are, and I ask myself these questions often.)

…Are you even making your own choices, yourself, or are you following some talking head on the internet, or an app, or an “AI”? Are you aware that it matters?…

I sip my coffee thoughtfully. I think my thoughts, grateful for another day to make choices and to practice practices. Grateful that I was finally able to get my Ozempic refilled, and my “sense of things” feels quite ordinary once again; I’ve clearly grown used to the changes it makes in my headspace (the increased impulse control demonstrably extends even to my ability to manage my temper, as it turns out). I breathe, exhale, and relax, feeling filled with contentment and a certain feeling of internal comfort that only seems to come from feeling very “at home in my own skin”. No anxiety, and for the moment no physical pain (which is a pleasant change). No headache. No allergies. Just a pleasant summer morning and a good cup of iced coffee, and this lovely quiet moment that is all mine.

…I am momentarily distracted by the awareness that a lot of my life is captured in words: emails, fragments of unfinished manuscripts, a rare bit of surviving journaling here or there, letters written in the days of snail mail as the only option, and this blog. I find myself wondering if I should be giving thought to preserving any portion of that (the internet may not actually be “forever”, considering current world events, generally)…

I sigh to myself, and my thoughts move on. Who am I? Who was I “then“? What relationship does she have to me, now? Memory is a thin thread that connects our past selves with our present self, and a bit unreliable at times. Does it even matter? Strange thoughts on an ordinary summer workday morning. There’s value in self-reflection, though, and asking the worthy questions is worthwhile whether I answer them or not. They demonstrate thoughtful curiosity and a regard for the unknown. They light the path ahead in some way I can’t easily describe or explain. They hint at what I don’t know, even about myself. Hell, sometimes they stave off the existential dread and doubt that sometimes accompanies awareness of how precious and limited this mortal lifetime is. I hear that metaphorical clock ticking.

The weekend is coming. What will I do with it? I’ve got a camping trip planned for a couple weeks from now. What will I do with that? I’ve got choices. So do you. What will you choose?

Every choice is a new beginning – even if you choose to stand still and do nothing.

One day I will not wake to begin again… It’s how mortality works. There is much to savor in each waking moment, and less to struggle with than I sometimes choose.
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Categories 2024 Election, Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Practices, Summer, The Art of Being, War and News of War, Words

If It Ain’t Broke…

May 20, 2025 //
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I’m sipping a cup of tea after my morning walk.

My legs ache fiercely, mostly because we purchased a used elliptical machine to improve our fitness strategy (at home), and I’ve been using it. I can “go further, faster” on the elliptical than I can on the trail, with less strain and more emphasis on cardio. I’m hoping this gets me past being a bit “stuck”, and hoping it is a helpful addition for my Traveling Partner, too. Being “stuck” needed attention, and this feels like a win – if we reliably use it. My short-term goal is to add at least 1 mile on the elliptical each day to my routine, and increase that over the next few weeks until I’m managing an additional 5 miles per day on the machine (on top of my trail miles, which tend to be slower).

I’m sipping my tea and thinking about a job opportunity that has developed, with a former colleague I have always greatly enjoyed working with. Here’s the thing, though, unlike the fitness challenge that I was struggling with and needed a solution for, I am enjoying the job I have right now, and wasn’t looking for a change. Weighing the value of the opportunity against my current contentment feels a lot different than “solving a problem”. It’s okay to let an opportunity pass by if the timing and circumstances aren’t “right” for it. I think it over, and sip my tea. What do I want? What does my life need? What takes me further down the path of becoming the woman I most want to be as a human being? These are important questions to answer, before I make a change I don’t really need to make.

…Nice problem to have…

I sigh and stretch. Breathe, exhale, relax. Sip my tea feeling satisfied with the moment and wrapped in love. It’s an ordinary work day, doing a job I enjoy with a team I appreciate and hold in high regard. I’m working from home in a space that feels comfortable and supports my needs. I pull my posture more upright, adjust the position of my keyboard. I notice the pain in my legs (just sore muscles) and in my back (osteo arthritis), but my headache is minimal (a nice change) and my tinnitus is present but not a major distraction this morning (I’m grateful). It’s an ordinary enough day, all things considered. The clock ticks on, questions to ask, questions to answer, moments to live and things to decide – all very ordinary indeed. It’s already time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, joy, Logic & Reason, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Spring, The Art of Being
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