Archives for posts with tag: choose wisely

I arrive at the trailhead before dawn. Already, the sun rises earlier and I’ll likely see it as I reach the end of my hike. One last breakfast with The Author before he returns home and life settles back into something like a routine (after a flurry of doctor’s appointments). This morning is not an unpleasant one, nonetheless I feel uneasy; it is inauguration day. The start of Trump II, and I’m not reluctant to admit that I am concerned about the outcome(s).

… I have my own thoughts answering the question “how the fuck did we get here?, but I’m sure everyone does, and mine are perhaps best left for another time…

I breathe, exhale, and relax, and pull myself back to this quiet, pleasant, moment right here, on the edge of a favorite trail, a few minutes before daybreak. Another breath. I’m in a lot of pain this morning. It’s just my arthritis; the weather is quite cold and my pain is reliably worse in cold weather. (This is the likely cause – or one of them – for so many people moving to sunny warm places to spend their retirement years.) I’ve got my cane. I put on gloves and scarf. I’ll warm up as I walk. My pain will be both improved and worsened when I get back to the car. My osteoarthritis stiffness and pain will have eased some with movement. The pain in my left ankle and right knee will increase with each step. I snarl something irritable at past versions of myself for not taking better care of this fragile vessel – then remind myself to practice better self-care, myself, now, too.

…Time keeps passing. Aging is…

Still. Things could be worse. I passed several homeless people walking their carts of belongings down frosted sidewalks on this icy cold morning. I am fortunate to be housed, warm and secure. I’ve got good healthcare coverage (for many values of good, though limited by our 100% craptacular US healthcare system) – I can (and should) continue to work with my (new)(good) physician to improve my health and manage my pain more effectively. My Traveling Partner’s care is also in pretty good hands, and we have each other’s support and care, too. Things could definitely be worse. We never know when they might be.

I lace my boots, and think my thoughts, before I hit the trail. Martin Luther King Jr Day, today. I wonder what that means to people… Shouldn’t it be more than just a day off from work? I think about the ways in which the world has changed since I was a child, in the early 60’s… Pretty significant changes, mostly profoundly good, but often seeming “not enough” – how is there even any discussion over the Equal Rights Amendment? It’s 2025, how are we still at war? How are poverty, disease, and inequality still major, noteworthy, progress impeding, concerns around the world? How are there still people who want to work but can’t find jobs? How are there people who want to dedicate their lives to creative endeavors but can’t find (or afford to take) the time?

I sigh to myself. I’ll walk with my thoughts awhile, solve nothing (but maybe learn something about myself), and then begin again.

I woke abruptly shortly before my silent alarm lit the room. I lay still and quiet, wondering what woke me, and still sensing the lingering remnants of my dreams. There was, rather oddly, an old Juice Newton song stuck in my head – not music I listen to, nor have I heard it recently. Peculiar, especially knowing I have not heard it recently (on background music in the grocery store or something of that sort). 1981 – I was finishing high school and preparing to head to basic training that year. It was a year of a lot of change. I was 17.

By the time I reached the office, the music in my head had shifted. 1975 – 10cc. Weird way to time travel, eh? I’d have been… 11? 12? Not long after my (most significant) TBI. It was a strange time, and I still lived at home, with my family of origin. I guess I could just say “with my family” – but that means different things to different people these days, and I’m specifically referencing my mother, father, and my two sisters, in this case. As I settled in to work, the music in my head moved on with the years… Alice Cooper… Van Halen… AC/DC… I listen to songs from other times, still loving them, still moved by them, and just a little astonished by how much my tastes have changed over the years, with moods, with moments, with circumstances, and with relationships. I shake off a moment of soft sorrow, and choose a playlist from a more recent time, more upbeat, associated with happier memories and easier times. “A better groove“. Music is almost a kind of magic, I sometimes think – a way of casting a spell over ourselves, and carrying our heart back to another time, a different place.

I grin to myself and think of my beloved Traveling Partner and his exceptional gift for creating an emotional moment using music. He has inspired me so often, and moved me to laughter, to tears, to passion, so many times. I remember that I don’t have to sit with my pain just because a song plays… I can change the music.

It doesn’t do to dwell on sorrow and pain, and it’s very much a choice I can make – to let that go, to control the mood in the moment, to grab the wheel and drive. It’s my journey, after all.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. There’s a horizon in the distance, and a journey to make between here and there. It’s time to begin again.

Perspective is an interesting thing. Change the context, or vantage point of an observed thing, and it may look quite different. Change the filter or lens on a camera, and the pictures are transformed. Zoom in, or step back, and what is revealed changes. Scale in comparison to other things may alter the apparent importance of something experienced or observed. A change of perspective has as much to do with our understanding as a change to the facts themselves. How interesting is that?

I woke earlier than I planned. Earlier than necessary at all, but once I was awake, there wasn’t much point in hanging about at home waiting for an unexpected opportunity to make a household-waking amount of noise inadvertently. I dressed, made coffee for my Traveling Partner, and got on with things. Somewhere between the front door and the trailhead, sleepiness caught up with me, and getting up so early now feels foolish. I parked the car just as the rain began drumming on the roof. Well, shit. I sit back a bit, listen to the rain sleepily and watch the clouds cross the sky while I wait for a break in the rain sufficient to walk the trail comfortably.

I am thinking about the “lens” through which I view the world. It’s a useful metaphor for perspective. I think about the necessity of “polishing the lens” for accuracy through education, fact-checking, and testing assumptions. I think about taking a closer look at events and experiences for a deeper understanding by way of “increasing the magnification” as one might with the lenses of a microscope. I consider how many lenses my eye doctor uses to get my prescription on my glasses just right, and the many comparisons between lenses that process requires. The lens is as excellent metaphor for perspective and clarity of thought. I sit contentedly, listening to the rain, and considering things through a variety of “lenses”.

…It makes sense to view the world through a variety of lenses, and to build nuanced understanding through considering things from more than one perspective…

My tinnitus rings and chimes and buzzes loudly in my ears and I am sleepy. My mind wanders. That’s okay, I’m not in any particular hurry and it’s still raining quite hard. The clouds are a pale soft gray against the darkness of the night sky. I find myself wondering if the new administration really will manage to put an end to the bullshit back-and-forth of the Daylight Savings Time changes we put ourselves through each year. If they do, which way will they go: permanent DST, or the other? I consider each option from several points of view and realize I’m not actually certain which I’d prefer, myself. I can see value to either, depending on the lens I choose. Summer hikes? Winter commutes? Sleeping in? Camping? Gardening? Children going to school? People with seasonal affective disorder? This lack of certainty tends to suggest it may be tough to bring about such a change, if many people are similar conflicted or uncertain. I find myself wondering, too, who will have the loudest voices and most money to spend on influencing the outcome.

I yawn drowsily as the rain stops. Seems a good time for my wandering mind and I to hit the trail. I put on my boots. They feel heavy on my feet this morning. I hang my headlamp around my neck. It dangles loosely, pointing toward my feet. I pull on my fleece over my sweater and stuff my rain poncho into my back pocket, just in case. Time to walk a couple miles in my own shoes. Time to stay on my path. Time to see the world with new eyes from a new perspective.

… Time to begin again… again.

A familiar walk from a different perspective, and through a different lens.

It’s the first morning of 2025. Unimpressive in most respects thus far, but that isn’t the point of a new beginning, nor is it the goal of this very human journey. There’s really no one to “impress”, and nothing much with which to impress them, not really. Thoughts to the contrary tend to be illusions we create in our own heads or adopt from others and subsequently use to torment ourselves with further illusions of disappointment and perceived failure. We could do better by ourselves than all that nonsense. It’s at least worth the attempt.

A new year, a new beginning. Choose your verbs, and practice.

We’re each human beings, having our own very human experience, each walking our chosen path alone, all of us in this together in spite of that. I look down the trail. It is a chilly misty morning that threatens rain. The world is damp and quiet. I sit with my thoughts a moment after lacing up my boots. Another mile ahead of me. Another moment of this precious mortal life, in which to consider, to choose, and to act. Where does this path lead?

In practical terms, last year I walked 788 trail miles (according to my tracker), and lost about 50 lbs. They may or may not be related. I’m not doing the walking to lose the weight in any specific direct way. It’s probably helpful to keep walking. Certainly it’s helpful to eat in a healthier way and manage my calories more closely. I’m very certain the semaglutide is a huge part of the weight loss, but even that is more about my health overall, and managing tricky details like my blood sugar, and oddly, my cognitive and emotional approach to food. It was always more complicated than “willpower”. It took a long time to be okay with that and to give myself a fucking break and be as kind and compassionate with the woman in the mirror as she seeks to be with the world. Humans being human.

I don’t really do “resolutions” at the New Year. I do take some quiet time to reflect quite seriously about who I am, who I most want to be, and what it might take to close the distance between the two. It’s a journey. The journey is the destination. There are so many steps in a mile, so many miles in a journey… and so many choices. I’ll definitely keep walking, both practically and metaphorically. In practical terms, I hope to reach one thousand trail miles this year. (Sounds like a lot but it averages to less than 3 miles a day over a year, which sounds pretty doable.)

I’ve got a list of books to read, and some quality of life goals that require changing some behavior. Nothing fancy or drastic, and incremental change over time can have really big results. We become what we practice. It’s enough.

I had a modest plan for today, and I don’t know if I am realistically up to it. I spent yesterday pretty ill, and I’m not yet back to 100%. I’ll take it easy in my walk, keep it short and unambitious, and be gentle with myself. Later I’ll take down the holiday decor – I’m pretty sure I’ve got enough in reserve to get that done. My other thought was to do the floors, all the floors, all the ways. Sweep, mop, dust baseboards, spot clean here and there were needed, and vacuum thoroughly – it’d be nice to begin the year bringing order out of chaos in this humble way, and I always enjoy how the house looks after some serious “detailing” of some kind… but… I’m fairly certain that project might be too much for me, today. Pushing it off to the weekend feels like “giving up”, but it also feels like self-care.

New year, new beginning – there are choices ahead, some simple, some complicated, and there’s a life to be lived. It’s definitely time to begin again. What will you be practicing? Where does your path lead? See you on the trail (metaphorically speaking).

One step at a time.

I woke this morning aware of yesterday’s news; former president Jimmy Carter had died at 100 years of age. Aside from that being a pretty long life for a human being, I was struck later in my own life, by how genuinely decent he was as a human being. Sure, sure, a lot has been said about what a terrible president he was, but I don’t know that that’s actually true, when I reflect on the specifics of the criticisms.

Jimmy Carter took a lot of heat for shit he could not have directly controlled in any way, and other things commonly called out critically were actually things that are easily viewed as actions taken from a positive of moral good, with positive outcomes. He sold the Panama Canal back to Panama for basically nothing. Why is that a bad thing? What business of ours was it to “own” that? (Oh, right – business. Not exactly known for standards of moral goodness or good character, eh?) He pardonned Vietnam draft dodgers – and why not? Fucking hell, are you kidding me with that shit? How is that even a fucking criticism? Vietnam was a fucking horror – we had no business being involved at all, nothing about that bullshit was good, or just, or righteous, or useful, and so many lives were wasted due to conscript service (in spite of having ostensibly done away with slavery) – which we ended shortly afterward in favor of an all-volunteer military. I can’t say that I’m at all critical of pardonning human beings who refused to go to war. I’ve been to war (as a volunteer in a powerful army), and it sucks. You know people kill and die in wars, right? So… yeah. As a young (conservative) thinker, I basically just spouted the “Jimmy Carter was a bad president” bullshit I heard from other people. I’m not sure I agree with it now – because I don’t think I know enough to say such a thing in an informed way. I do know one thing; he proved himself over time to be one of the most generally ethical, decent, and good human beings to have ever occupied the Oval Office.

…Americans don’t tend to elect good, decent, ethical people to political office. There’s something to be learned from that, and it’s probably important…

I shake it off as I dress for the day. I let it go, again, as I drive to the office. (My walk got derailed by a traffic accident on the highway between the turn to go to the office, and the trailhead; I chose to let that go too, avoiding a hassle.)

The office is comfortable, if a bit chilly. I’m finding myself having to “let that go” over and over again, though, as little things surface and annoy me for some moment. None of it “important” in this immediate moment for me as one human being here, now… all of it feeling somehow “important” in a larger picture of what makes life generally worth living, and how best to extend that experience to 100% of all of everyone (and why the ever-loving-fuck is that not obviously the goal for all of us??) I sigh, and remind myself that in spite of humanity’s everyday bullshit and nastiness – Jimmy Carter found reasons to be a good person. Like, all the fucking time, daily, in spite of the shit he took for not being the “good president” (bad human being) that people seemed inclined to want him to be – that’s something worth examining more closely, and learning from. At least, I think so myself.

People are dicks (often). People can be mean (damnably so). People do unforgiveable heinous things to each other (unrepentantly). People are violent (mercilessly). Sometimes it’s hard to remember that they are choosing – and I can choose differently, myself. That’s the important takeaway for me; I can walk my own path. I can be the woman I most want to be. I can choose to be a better person today than I was yesterday – every day. It’s not for me to decide your path – or anyone else’s – and I don’t have to cave to pressure and become something monstrous simply because someone else has, or because it is trending, or because it can be rationalized given enough time, money, and excuses. I can choose – in fact, I don’t really get an option on that; I have and will choose, again and again. What those choices are is very much an individual decision. I will become what I practice. That’s unavoidable. That I do have a choice simply gives me the freedom to be something better than my nature, perhaps.

I sigh and sip my coffee. I glance at a news article shared by a coworker about some jackass saying something pretty horrible in response to something else pretty ugly. Fuuuuck. I’m glad I’m not that guy. I’d choose differently. I smile to myself quietly, and just a little sadly; Jimmy Carter died, and the world is just a little less good because of his passing. I hope I’ve learned something from the example(s) that he set…

It’s time to begin again.