Daybreak comes, revealing cloudy skies. I walked to this spot rather unenthusiastically. I’m not in any sort of bad mood, just “feeling the weight” of it all. It is a subjective feeling, and it will pass. I pay it no particular attention, I notice it and let it go.
[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]
The stormy looking clouds gathered to the east probably don’t hold much potential for rain; it is summer; August in the Pacific Northwest, and a dry, hot one. The weather forecast says sunny today, hot in the afternoon. Right now the air is cool and mild and I regret not grabbing my fleece. My arthritis aches from my fusion to the base of my skull, finally completing a journey that began sometime around 1990, some 36-ish years ago, with the vertebrae immediately above the fused ones. Every year since, it has climbed a little further. About two years ago, I think, I developed arthritis in my shoulders and my collar bone (did not even know that was a thing). Last year I developed arthritis in my thumbs. Osteoarthritis sucks (any pain does, really), and it’s not really feasible to take enough of whatever pain remedy to really be “pain free“. Movement helps, but it’s more pain to have less pain. Vexing. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I let it go. Again.
Cloudy morning. The sky to the west is a smooth homogeneous soft gray, with occasional streaks of clouds drifting past. The work day is ahead. I’m fine with it. Maybe I just need some coffee to shake off this bland disinterest in this moment (or, if I’m being fair, any other). I’m fine, for most values of “fine”. As I said earlier, I’m not in a bad mood, just sort of sitting here glaring somewhat uninterestedly on this new day, which seems a bit unreasonable. It’s new, full of unrealized potential and so many options! I sigh to myself. My inner cheerleader is nowhere to be found.
I breathe, exhale, and relax. I take time for meditation. Who knows how I’ll feel after I begin again? Change is. Moments are fleeting.
I get a good morning greeting from my beloved Traveling Partner, and it puts a smile on my face that pain can’t stop. I stretch and get to my feet.
I woke early, with my alarm. I dressed quickly and quietly, and watered the lawn before heading for the trail. I arrived just at daybreak – ostensibly when this park opens – and as I drove into the park to the trailhead, I passed one, then another parked car. Imagine my surprise (and, frankly, my irritation) to see random cars parked willy-nilly on the narrow access road. These were no early morning hikers, either, these were over night visitors or people parked out of view, sleeping in their cars.
[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]
I sigh crossly, grateful I don’t speed down this road in the twilight of dawn. I easily could have hit one of them, parked well into the road (there being no parking at all along the access road and no pullouts).
I get to the trailhead parking. Another overnighter parked in just the stupidest fashion in a spot very much outside the actual parking and blocking the path down to a lovely river view. I swear to myself, thoroughly vexed by this bullshit. I start down the path, stepping around the truck quietly, and find myself startled by the guard dog chained beneath the truck, who lunges at me barking furiously. Well fuck that shit. I turn back even more annoyed, but not wishing to risk a dog bite.
…G’damn, fuck rude people abusing park spaces with their entitled bullshit…
I turn down a different path as I wonder “who even does this shit?!”, but I don’t really want to know – I just want my peaceful morning walk. Disappointing start. I inhale the fragrant summer air as I walk down the path into the meadow. It had been dense clover, blooming with sweet smelling purple flowers only a couple weeks ago. It has been mown since then. The tidy arrangement of rows makes me wonder what sort of farm equipment was used for the purpose. The view isn’t as lovely as when the meadow is lush and blooming. An altogether disappointing start to the day.
I get to my halfway point on this loop trail. The rock I generally sit on has a fat pile of dog shit dropped right next to it. Gross. “Fucking hell, people, clean up after your g’damned dogs”, I mutter crossly as I walk on. I have the recollection of a convenient rock or log somewhere along here… Now my walk becomes a vigilant search for somewhere to sit, instead of a peaceful, mindful, meditative progression of steps on a path.
…I feel my awareness of my own disappointment begin to evolve into seething irritation, almost anger, that sits at the edge of becoming a feeling of entitlement…
I sigh and stop. I just stop on the trail and stand for a moment, listening to the birds chirping, peeping, and singing. I lean against a large-ish maple of some kind, resting my feet. My back aches already, today. My tinnitus whines loudly in my ears, and I focus on the birds singing to assure myself that the tinnitus isn’t “real” and hasn’t actually deafened me. I breathe, exhale, and relax.
… It’s a beautiful moment, in a lovely spot along a wooded trail, on a cloudy summer morning. It’s worth redirecting my attention to here, now…
I let my irritation and disappointment dissipate. I watch robins foraging in the leaf litter at the edge of the trail. It’s a beautiful quiet morning. I hear Spring Valley Creek trickling past nearby, unseen beyond the thicket of shrubs and berry vines. Young chipmunks chase each other through the trees. The leaves of the trees shake and rustle in the breeze. The clouds hint at rain that may not come and I find myself wondering why I am in so much pain this morning? I have no enthusiasm for the work I committed to helping my beloved Traveling Partner with, today, but maybe I’ll feel more like it later. I don’t dwell on it, or on my pain.
I walk on down the path, and find myself in a pleasant glade near a bend in the path. There is an old picnic table tucked back away from the trail, in a regrettable state of disrepair, but adequate as a place to sit that isn’t on the ground (harder to get back up at 63 than it would have been at 30). I sit awhile. I write. I meditate. I wait on a moment that hasn’t yet arrived. I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s so easy to take shit personally that isn’t personal at all. Reality isn’t going to bother with correcting our mistakes for us, it will simply punish us when we’re incorrect. I sigh to myself and remind myself to do something about my pain when I get back to the car.
I don’t bother with the news today. Why would I? Ads. AI slop. Sponsored content. Cookies. Paywalls. Slanted opinions instead of clean emotionally neutral factual reporting, or honest authentic and explicitly stated personal biases revealed openly. All of it on repeat, and supplemented by copies of copies of copies shared across media groups and individuals. Completely pointless, and all of it seriously joy destroying crap targeted at getting all of us to pay someone for something. Bleh. No thanks. I sigh, feeling a little impatient even having the thought, and pull my attention back to “now”.
“View of the Willamette River” “7 x “9.5”, soft pastel on Pastelmat
It’s not reliably easy to find, make, or preserve our peace or our joy. There are verbs involved, and a willingness to persist. I’ve been finding it helpful to spend more time in my studio, painting. I smile to myself; the view I missed this morning is the view I painted from memory last night. I find some little bit of comfort, joy, and peace in that idea.
I take a deep breath of the cool summer air, smelling the scent of recently mown clover mingling with the scent of wildflowers. A bird of prey somewhere nearby screams about whatever is on their mind. The chipmunks all vanish. This moment may not be “perfect” (what ever is?), but it is mine, and it is enough. I think about the day ahead and wonder if my partner is also in more than usual pain this morning?
… Sometimes the best I can do is to keep walking, putting one foot after the other, until I get somewhere. Each day offers a new beginning, and each moment is a new chance at peace and joy. What will I do with it (besides “my best”)? The clock is ticking – today I feel it more. The clouds overhead are definitely threatening rain now – I guess it’s a good time to begin again.
I woke too early. I didn’t get enough sleep. I’ve got a wicked headache, my eyeballs feel like they are sandpapered, and my skin “feels uncomfortable”. My neck aches from waking twisted and alarmed in the wee hours. I never went soundly to sleep after that, but I catnapped a bit between strange dreams filled with dread and doubt and “exploding head” nightmares.
… It’s a very human experience.
[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]
I watered the lawn thoroughly; it’s expected to be another fiercely hot day. I headed for the trail at daybreak and arrived in time to greet the dawn, which glows like an infected cut, hues of red and orange along the horizon.
Mostly beautiful and a bit inspiring.
I’m irritable and out of sorts, cross with myself, my circumstances, and even this moment. I’ll get over it, I’m sure. I’m more resilient than I once was. For now, though, I am in no mood for… people. Or anything. I don’t want conversation. I don’t want to share space. I don’t want an exchange of ideas nor any kind of shared experience. I just want to be left alone to be irritable in peace, until it passes.
… I am recognizably not my best self this morning…
Maybe after work I’ll just retreat to my studio and paint moody landscapes of sunrises and sunsets, counting on the vibrant colors to distract viewers from the dark shapes silhouetted against the sky?
… G’damn I’m cranky…
I definitely needed more (better) sleep. My Traveling Partner wasn’t sleeping well either. He was having trouble breathing – possibly the worst way to not sleep. He seemed to have found sleep at some point; he wasn’t awake when I finally just got up. I tried not to make noise as I dressed and left. I didn’t want to be any part of waking him again, before he had gotten the rest he needs.
I smile for a moment, recalling the unexpected gift of a couple books I haven’t read, which my beloved gave me yesterday. I feel loved when I think of them. The feeling lasts as long as the thought does; I try to hold on to it, with limited success.
I love the feeling of a new book in my hands.
I sigh to myself at the halfway point on my walk. Fucking hell it’s going to take so much coffee to push me through the day, today. I could do without this fucking headache, too.
I breathe, exhale, and relax, and take a few moments of this quiet morning for meditation. My routine tends to help me past most of life’s difficult bits these days. It’s not perfect, as solutions go, but it’s better than nothing. I glare moodily at the rising sun. I don’t feel like dealing with the heat, but “not dealing with it” isn’t really an option that reality provides. It is what it is. I’ve got a bottle of water with me, half finished already. Letting myself get dehydrated would be stupid, particularly since I’ve already got this headache.
I sigh heavily, feeling my discontent like a weight on my shoulders. I look down the trail with a somber acknowledgement; I walked this far, now I’ve got to finish it. Shit. I get to my feet feeling impatient with myself and vaguely angry. I’ll have to begin again. Maybe it will help.
I woke on time, gently, from a sound restful sleep. I barely noticed the headache, at first. I got up, dressed, watered the lawn, and headed for the trail. It is a pleasantly mild Wednesday morning.
[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]
I sigh to myself as I reach my halfway point. This headache is vexing me. It seems to rise from somewhere between my shoulders, following my spine up to meet the base of my skull, blossoming into pain that spreads around the curve of the back of my head, becoming a beacon of “extra” pain in my forehead. Fucking hell this sucks all the ass. I laugh briefly, but that shakes my head unpleasantly. What sort of madwoman writes an entire paragraph on a pleasant Wednesday to carefully describe pain?
I had planned to work from home, specifically to also get some laundry done during the work day. At least right now, waiting for medication to be effective, I’m not feeling like “being around people”, at all. Alone feels better, for the moment. Working from home may be less than ideal, in spite of comfort and convenience and the company of my beloved Traveling Partner; I’m cranky as hell in this much pain.
… Fuck this headache…
I sit wondering if I can somehow justify blowing off work completely today, but I’m uncomfortable with the optics of an unplanned absence. I’ve been a professional for too long. 😆 I’d probably end up spending the day on errands and chores, and still enduring this fucking headache.
I let my thoughts wander on. Staying focused on the headache is worse than useless. The morning is a feast of fresh hues of green, and the stormy looking clouds that were overhead at daybreak have dissipated revealing clear blue skies. I breathe, exhale, and relax. A small brown bunny steps cautiously out from among the grass along the side of the trail. He watches me. I watch him. A curious bluejay startles us both.
My birthday is coming up soon. I’ve no idea what to do about it, really. I don’t have a crazy wishlist of things to do, acquire, or experience in mind. I don’t yearn for something with a reasonable price tag. My needs are pretty well met, generally. I would feel like a jerk to indulge a vague desire to be quite alone for my birthday; I know my Traveling Partner would probably want to celebrate with me, and might be hurt to be left alone on my birthday. I don’t really have any expectations or birthday wishes. Perhaps a cheesecake or an elegant fruit tart? Maybe a day without chores or cooking. Meh. I guess that’s the vibe, at least from this vantage point, peering through this headache. 😆 “This too will pass.”
I glance at the time, fighting my headache-fueled ennui. I could use a new beginning right about now… so I get to my feet and begin again.
It’s been lovely having a bit of a vacation. The clock keeps ticking. The wheel keeps turning. Eventually every pleasant vacation drops us off at the starting point to begin living life in “the usual way” (more or less). I’m not unhappy with that. The power of taking a break comes from the way (and amount) it deviates from the day-to-day. (This is why a “stay-cation” can still be a wonderful interlude that refreshes and recharges us.)
A familiar sight on a familiar trail.
A new beginning, a restart, a chance to set off on the journey with new perspective is one of the things I value each time I take a vacation (or even a break, or after a long weekend). If I’ve learned something new about myself, I take advantage of that new understanding in some way. If I’ve used the time to build a new habit or make a lifestyle change, I carry it forward into my everyday living. Practical. This approach can be so effective that I’ve even taken time off specifically to begin or end some behavior in order to focus on that change before resuming routine living, in order to “make it stick” more effectively.
I finish this morning’s walk just as the rain begins spattering the windshield. Of course it’s raining. I’m not even surprised. I felt it coming.
My arthritis has been griefing me all week. The amount of pain I’m in nearly every day is just fucking stupid, and unreasonable, and difficult to manage, and seems wholly “unfair”, and I mostly just don’t even complain about it or bring it up beyond the occasional mention (in my lived actual life), though I mention it relatively frequently here. It’s mostly pointless to say anything much about it. There’s nothing much anyone can do about it, and I’d rather not be defined by my pain or allow it to dictate the boundaries of my experience. Besides, everyone hurts sometimes, and we can only ever really understand our own pain. It’s truly difficult to understand the magnitude of someone else’s pain, and far too easy to dismiss it as being somehow less than our own. I’d rather not discuss it or argue the point; it’s not a competition. I think it sucks to be in pain, and I’m often cross about it while trying my best not to make it anyone else’s problem (especially my Traveling Partner); we’ve all got our own pain to deal with. If you’re in pain, I’m sorry to hear it, and I wish that it were in my power to ease your suffering.
I breathe, exhale, and relax. The rainy weather pretty reliably means more arthritis pain. I smile to myself, somewhat mirthlessly. I enjoy the rain so much! The spectacular mismatch between my delight in rainy days and the pain I’m in on rainy days is not lost on me. If I’m lucky, my delight and my joy in life may distract me from my pain for some little while.
Are you in pain? I get it. Please take care of yourself. Take it easy when you can (and when you must), and set healthy boundaries. Pain doesn’t have to become your whole world – you can choose differently (often)(sometimes). Your results may vary.
When I arrived.
Yesterday was a nice finish to my vacation days, although a storm blowing in from the sea ultimately chased me back to the car and got me headed home a little earlier than I’d planned. It was still quite a lovely day. It has been a supremely relaxing and restful week. I needed that more than I knew.
When I left.
I didn’t mind the storm. Like change, the weather simply is, and it’s not to be argued with. lol It was too blustery for plein air painting, and I didn’t really mind. I adapted to the conditions (easier than trying to argue with the weather). I enjoyed walking on the beach and exploring the tide pools. I took pictures of the rocks and waves and the storm moving in. I enjoyed returning home to see that a rose I had planted the year after we moved in had finally bloomed. (She took her sweet damned time with that, but she’s beautiful, and worth the wait.) The hollyhocks are blooming too, but colossal, and clearly “in the wrong spot” as planted. As with any garden, I learn with the seasons, and make changes based on what I learn along the way. (It’s a metaphor.)
“Golden Opportunity” blooming.
So… Here I am. Now. Being. Listening to the rain fall, and reflecting on the moment. My tinnitus is louder than the rain, but my pain is managed. Good enough. I’ve got things to do, and it’s time to begin again.
Evening Light 