Archives for posts with tag: choose your path
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What Are You Choosing?

September 15, 2025 //
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Chilly Monday morning. There is a faint veil of autumn mist clinging to the trees along the riverbank, and above the meadow grass. The vineyard is still a dark smudge across my view, in the predawn gloom. Daybreak arrives quietly. Hard to believe it is a Monday.

I walked the trail on this chilly morning, hands jammed into my pockets for warmth, admitting to myself the whole way that I should have worn my fleece. I feel fall coming. The morning sky is gray and cloudy to the west. The eastern horizon shows off a bit of orange as the sun rises. I stop at my halfway point to enjoy the moment, and write a bit with cold fingers, grateful that I thought to jam a handful of tissues into my pocket as I left the house this morning; I’ve already used them up.

I watched this video over the weekend. Timely. I recommend it.

I sit thinking about some incredibly worthy ideas I have embraced over the past year or two (or three, or five, i don’t know, the time passes quickly). Amor Fati. Vita Contemplativa. Ichi-go Ichi-e. Along with accepting impermanence, and practicing non-attachment, these ideas (paths? practices?) have been useful perspective-changing and have served to deepen my engagement with, and presence in, my own experience every day.

… I make more time to read books and waste less time pointlessly scrolling.

… I make more room to listen to my own thoughts and be comfortably alone with myself.

… I make enjoying each moment a practice of its own, and allow myself to savor small joys such that they linger in my recollection.

… I make my lived experience my focus more of the time, present in the moment, and recognize how finite and precious this mortal lifetime is, without grieving its brevity.

… I face change more comfortably.

Seems worth it. That’s a lot of value out of a handful of ideas. There are verbs involved. Choices. Curiosity. Study. Each moment and each day, I choose the path I walk. You do too. What will your legacy be? What memories will you leave behind? Will you be considered fondly when you are remembered, or an unpleasant footnote in someone’s memory of old hurts? Choose. Then choose again. Every day, you have the power to choose to be the person you most want to be.

… Choose wisely…

…Who are you now? Are you your ideal of who you could be? Are you letting yourself down? What could you choose differently to become more that person you most want to be? I sit with the questions as dawn becomes day… And then I begin again.

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Categories Allegories, autumn, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, joy, Logic & Reason, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, The Art of Being, The Big 5, War and News of War, Words

Pain & Winter Weather

February 19, 2025 //
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I’m sipping my coffee on a rainy winter morning, feeling cross and irritated and in considerable pain. It’s the pain making me so cranky, but it’s “only” my osteoarthritis (and my perpetual headache), and there’s not much to do about it, really. I live with this. A lot of people live with pain, that’s a real thing. I sigh to myself, as I pull my posture more upright. It helps a tiny bit, though barely noticeable in the moment. The moments add up. I’m grateful to have gotten a good night’s sleep. I’m grateful to have what limited Rx pain relief available to me that I do (and am willing to use).

My reflection stares back at me from the window; it’s not yet daybreak, and I see a middle-aged woman with slightly tousled carelessly-kept long hair, glasses, wrapped in a warm (if a bit frumpy) sweater, looking back at me. She looks pleasant and approachable, relaxed, with a soft smile hinting at a life well-lived, and maybe some interesting stories to tell. She looks just a bit… amused. I don’t see the pain, just the smile, which reaches her eyes. At the corners of her eyes and her smile, laugh lines, no frown lines. She looks… capable. She looks ready for the day and unbothered. I find myself liking what I see reflected there in the window. I sigh again and think “you’ll do”, and take another sip of my coffee. I’m not at all sure how I got “here” – it’s been a difficult journey in spots, and I’ve often wandered off my path – but I’m okay with where I am, and that feels like a win.

I sip my coffee thinking about friends. Thinking about love. Thinking about errands I need to run. I think about hearth and home and all the things that add up to this life I live. It’s not perfect; there’s the pain, obviously. That’s its own difficult experience. I try not to take it personally. Things could be so much worse. Instead of living with this pain, I could have rejected having the surgery to repair my shattered spine, and taken a chance on things “just healing up” more or less, and most likely ended up in a wheel-chair, unable to walk at all. It can be hard to trust the opinion of an expert; we live in cynical times. I’m glad I did – I walk every day, and often see the sunrise from some favorite trail. The pain seems like a price worth paying for that privilege, most of the time. My irritation slips away. I chose this with my eyes open. I may not have understood the full measure of the price I’d be paying when I lay there sedated in the ICU so many years ago, but I knew there’d be a price. TANSTAAFL.

One cold winter night 40 years ago, I ran from a knife wielding man to save my own life. I took the only route available to me, that I could see in the moment, which led me to dangling from a balcony rail, dangerously high above a beautiful tiled patio, slick with ice. That man was my then-husband, who rushed to the balcony to plead with me not to let go. I looked back at him in a moment of unexpected clarity and calm, aware of my agency in a new way. The choice was mine. “I have to,” I said, and I did. The explosion of light in my head and the sudden pain that shot through me and my breath knocked out of my body overcame me only for seconds before adrenaline and terror drove me to my feet to seek help. It was a moment of profound change. One choice. One moment.

I sit with my thoughts a while. “I had no other choice” is reliably a lie. We have choices (many) – I know I’ve made a lot of them. Probably the worst choice(s) I’ve ever made? Telling myself I’ve no other choice, and and following the path that took me down. The menu in The Strange Diner is immense. We choose, on our own, to keep it folded, and to narrow our options willfully. Refusing to consider all the options is also a choice.

We’re born “a blank page”, and although we have little to say about our introduction to life, we have so many choices as we grow, and more once we are adult and free to do as we will. What will you do with it? The menu in The Strange Diner is impressively vast. What will you choose? Will you make your world (and your life) a better place in which to thrive? Will you walk a path that leads you somewhere beautiful? Will you take the steps that carry you to becoming the person you most want to be? Who is that? What will your legacy be? You have choices. Choose wisely. Pay the price. Don’t take the pain personally.

It’s time to begin again.

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

Hand-crafted Stillness

May 18, 2024 //
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I woke early and headed to a favorite trail. It was already daylight when I reached the trailhead. I had the trail (and the park) all to myself this morning and enjoyed my walk, listening to birdsong, the distant sound of traffic on the nearby highway, and the crunch of of my steps on the trail.

I’m sitting at my half-way point, now, enjoying the stillness I walked so far to reach. 1.5 miles. My first 3 mile walk in awhile, by the time I get back to the car. Feels good. It’s an overcast morning. Looks like it might rain. I breathe the cool air deeply, taking in the scent of Spring wildflowers. Lovely morning for it.

Today I’ll spend the day on various preparatory tasks for my camping trip; I leave tomorrow morning sometime. (I’m not rushing and don’t have any reason to set some firm timeline.) I’ll do a few things to help ensure my Traveling Partner only misses me because he loves me, not because there’s some massive inconvenience that is difficult for him to overcome. I’ll make a point of having him give me a refresher on setting up and using the solar power; it’s the sort of “use it or lose it” knowledge I am at risk of discovering I’ve lost, just when I need it most, and I’ve only taken the system with me for solo camping once before. Not enough practice with it, yet, to count on implicit memory.

…Tomorrow is so soon…

I’ve already fueled up the car. Had a couple repairs and some maintenance done. Got the oil changed. Made sure the wiper fluid is topped off. Fixed a broken latch on the lid of the center console (should have been done months ago). The car is ready for the next long drive. Next is packing the gear that’s at the house. Tomorrow, on my way out of town, I’ll stop by storage for the rest of the gear I need; I’ve already checked it out and figured out what goes and whether it fits in the Mazda.

…I  remind myself to take a minute with my partner to check the gear in the truck; there are probably a couple things I want that are kept in the truck, generally…

…Another trip to the store, too…

Mildly vexed by the cloudy morning, I check the weather forecast for my camp site again; still says sunny weather most of the time I expect to camp. I’m happy about that, but also unconvinced – and unconcerned. The weather will be whatever it is and I can’t do a thing about that, besides prepare for it. The map is not the world. The plan is not the experience. The forecast is not the weather. lol

I’m excited to get started, but equally eager to enjoy a relaxed experience, treat myself and my partner well, and avoid later aggravation by being well-prepared and un-rushed. It’s a bit of a balancing act. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I have no potential to find myself “running late”, my time is already my own for the next 7 days. That feels amazing. I can’t possibly find myself “ahead of schedule” or finding my plan going sideways, this simply isn’t built on such a delicate plan at all. Damn, it feels good to just not even worry about time or timing. I needed this rest, so much.

I sigh and laugh at myself, when I catch myself checking my watch for the time. lol These all too brief mortal lives are so time-bound. Hilarious. We made that shit up, and routinely forget there’s only now.

…Still…It’s a good time to begin again. Time to head back down the trail…

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Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, turning 60

A Slammed Door and Irritation

January 12, 2020 //
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I slept well last night, and got enough rest. I woke gently, and quietly made coffee, hoping not to wake my still-sleeping partner. I headed to the studio, sat down with my coffee, and started trying to put my thoughts together, words on a page, on a quiet Sunday. I’m grateful to have had an entire night’s sleep. Today, it looks like I’m going to need it.

This morning, my writing is interrupted, several times, for what I can only describe in this moment as “difficult interactions”. I’m not yet fully awake, and lack adequate emotional resilience for the irritated (I hear it as angry) tone of voice, so early in the morning. My thoughts are fractured, scattered, and now focused on feeling hurt, instead of nurturing something within me. My studio door gets slammed, probably without intent. My tears spill over. A quiet morning is apparently not on today’s agenda, and I am the hapless villain in this story – but who is the author? I feel frustrated, sad, and isolated (as much because I don’t really know what to do with these feelings, in this moment). It irks me that I woke up feeling so soft and amiably inclined toward my partner… and at the moment, I feel only the sting of his irritation, his disappointment with me (“What do I have to do to help you remember??”), and the visceral sensation along my nerves of a slammed door.

Sometimes “doing our best” isn’t enough to overcome opportunities to fail at something, or to miss a detail, and “trying hard” is not enough to ensure success. This is true with or without a brain injury. We have to choose again and again to “do the verbs” and to try again. We have to choose again and again to walk our path, or select a new one. It is also true that we don’t generally grow from the things we are reliably good at, or which we find comfortable and easy. So, okay – routine human shit between human primates. Sometimes it’s hard. Sometimes it isn’t comfortable. Sometimes it is necessary to be reminded what the point of it is, and refocus our efforts, because it matters enough to do that. It reliably takes practice.

…What a shitty morning so far…and less than an hour into the day. Disappointment with myself, with the morning, with the circumstances, it all fills me up and spills over as tears, while I watch a little brown bird on the stoop, picking enough sustenance from the ground and from the sidewalk, just to get by another day. I watch the little bird, and try to nudge myself in the direction of recognizing that I am just experiencing some emotional weather; the climate in my heart (and, I assume, my partner’s) is fine. This? It’s just a moment. It’s useful to begin again, if I can start on that, somehow, then it’s not “a shitty morning” as much as a shitty moment. Moments are brief, and they pass.

This time, when my Traveling Partner opens the door to the studio, his face is softened, and he looks at me with love. The irritation is gone. He steps close, and strokes my hair. I apologize for the difficult start to his morning, through my slow, steady, tears. He tells me “it is what it is” and “I’m not angry”. He’s human, too. If I allow it to, the morning will shift gears to a happier place; we’ve made that possible, now it is just a matter of accepting that change and going with it. A matter of beginning again. I give myself a moment to appreciate having a partnership with so much resilience and potential to bounce back from a difficult interaction. I savor the feeling of gratitude that seeps in, as I contemplate the difference between this partnership, and others I’ve had.

I breathe. Exhale. Relax. Allow my heart to slow, and my posture to lift me more erect. I sip my coffee, and begin again.

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, Brain Injury, Despair, forgiveness, Frustration, gratitude, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, The Big 5, winter, Words

If You Had to Start Over?

January 17, 2019 //
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It’s a question worth asking, I think. It’s at least worth reflecting upon it, asking it of yourself, and perhaps even being prepared that this could eventually be a thing you have to wrap your head around; what if you had to completely start over – with nothing?

Where you would begin in life, if you had to begin again on an entirely different level? What if you lost everything, even losing your “way”, your sense of place in the world, your job, your home, your standing in the community? How to start over…? Where to begin…? What matters most?

What matters most?

If you’ve “lost everything”, it’s likely you still have something precious to count on… this moment. Here. Now. Maybe some choices? If you’ve already lost everything, you’ve also lost reasons to turn away from choices that could take you somewhere really new… that’s something. Maybe that doesn’t seem like much, by itself, just the freedom to choose. Choose anything. To start from nothing and rebuild doesn’t sound at all pleasant, but once we’re on the other side of that “rip off the band-aid” moment of loss, isn’t it, potentially, all forward momentum?

For fuck’s sake, though, grieve if you’re hurting! Don’t mistake loss – and the emotions that it evokes – for anything more permanent than any other emotional experience, but do give yourself – and take – the time you need to heal and be okay! Impermanence is one thing, but please, oh please, don’t treat yourself harshly when you’re hurting. Feel your feelings. Be the best friend you may not feel you have, right now. Treat yourself with the consideration you’d give anyone else who is hurting. There’s no magic happy pill (no, really really there isn’t). Maybe it’ll be slow going to pull yourself out of whatever you are mired in right now… but you can.

Where would you begin, if it were you? A cup of coffee and a good book? A few minutes on a meditation cushion, a lovely view, the sound of breezes through tree tops? A few hours playing video games? A walk alone through a beautiful forest? I don’t know where you’d begin again… that one’s on you. I’ve gone without more than a few times. I lost a lot in life, and rebuilt a time or two; it’s why I refer to my lives in the plural, and reference “past lifetimes” – it really feels that way. lol I’m here, now, though, and I’m okay. Choices.

Yeah, but… circumstances, too. Don’t forget about the circumstances, right? Unavoidable, undebatable, immutable circumstances. Well, shit…

…Nah, I’m going to argue that one. Not gonna let that go. It’s an excuse to fail. Circumstances are circumstances; you still choose your adventure, still decide who you are as a human being, and you still have choices – how to act, how to react, what to say, how to treat people, how to treat yourself, where to go in life… all choices. Are you going to get handed some tiles in this game? Yep. It’s true. Starting points. From there; choices.

Choose wisely.

There’s much suffering in the world (and in my feeds), and I don’t much want to call it out, but some of it appears to be based on… choices. You can choose so much of your experience, and yes, even the suffering. Why choose to suffer?

We become what we practice. What are you practicing?

Damn, look at the time! It’s time to begin again. That’s a choice. ❤

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Categories Anxiety, Brain Injury, Free Will, grief, loneliness, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being, The Big 5, War and News of War, winter
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