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Details Get Lost in the Mist

September 21, 2024 //
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Peculiarly foggy morning, now that the sun is up. The mist crept up from the river bed slowly as the sun rose. The morning, before dawn, was crystal clear and chilly. Summer is already becoming fall.

My Traveling Partner pinged me an early greeting that became a 30 minute conversation, before I set out for my walk. No point trying to walk and text chat at the same time; it renders the experience little more than distracted mindless exercise, which I don’t particularly enjoy. I like to be where I am as I walk, taking in the sights, the changing light, and breathing the fresh air. The exercise is a bonus.

He pings me several times more after my walk begins, but explicitly says “read after your walk” and I mute my ringer happily and walk on. I’m in pain this morning and I definitely need this self-care time. He’s in pain, too, and cheating myself of good self-care doesn’t serve either of us well. I walk on.

The trail is noisy and crowded this morning. I’m in no mood for cheery greetings and human voices, but I set off on my walk much later than usual, choosing conversation over walking, and love over solitude. Choices. I’m okay with it. I just keep walking. The leaves of the oaks take on a golden glow high up, even as the mist swirls around their bases, covering the meadow grass. The horizon is obscured. When I look towards the sunrise, the mist is a golden wash of color, trees and distant buildings silhouetted but not revealed. It’s an interesting effect.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I walk, wondering what the day will hold. What do I want out of it? What needs to get done? What can wait? What might bring me joy? My thoughts are imprecise and vague, not unlike this misty morning, details lost in the fog that has gathered. I don’t make any effort to force things one way or another. It’s a Saturday. I just let my thoughts come and go, like an autumn mist in the morning, trusting that it’ll clear up later. It’s enough to enjoy this moment, walking with my thoughts.

Soon enough I’ll begin again. Until then, I’ve got this moment. I take a few minutes to relax at the edge of the marsh, on a convenient bench at my not-quite-halfway point. I write a few words. Watch the Canada geese drift across the water of the pond nearby. Watch the sun rise. Breathe. Nice morning for it…

… Isn’t this enough..?

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, The Art of Being, Uncategorized

A Monday Moment

September 16, 2024 //
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It’s dark and I am waiting for the sun. I’m sitting at the trailhead, paused between meditation and writing, some time before my walk. It’s a Monday morning, probably a fairly routine one… But… And?

I’m feeling a bit “off”, somehow. Vaguely irritable, only… maybe not? I don’t know. I’m in a strange discontented headspace, with nothing much to complain about, and nothing going on that actually seems “wrong”. I’m not “unhappy”… neither am I “happy”. I sigh heavily. The weekend wasn’t particularly restful or productive. I enjoyed it in the company of my Traveling Partner, and that was pretty nice. I very much feel that I should be looking back on it with much more gratitude and enthusiasm, but… this strange discontented mood has a pretty firm hold on me. Something like the sensation of wanting something I simply can’t have, ever, and knowing it while only half accepting it, but also not taking any steps to change that. Weird mood.

Soon enough I’ll have to “put my work face on”, and wholly adopt a certain professional positivity, and get the day going. Fine. I will and it’ll work out. I’m just…here… now, in this very different place. No idea why. I feel almost as though laying down for awhile and just… weeping… might be a more authentic use of my time, but it seems like a fairly childish and ineffective approach to take.

…I wonder if my walk will help…

I breathe, exhale, and relax, waiting for the sun. I’m not yet in any particular amount of pain. This could be a very pleasant moment. It isn’t quite. Am I, perhaps, reacting to my Traveling Partner’s (understandable) feelings of depression and negativity, as he confronts and deals with his emotions regarding potential long-term consequences of his (more severe than we knew at the time) injury, or becoming fused with that experience instead of living my own? It’s possible. We spent the weekend closely together, enjoying (or sometimes not enjoying) each other’s company.

… Maybe I didn’t get enough rest? Or didn’t get enough done…?

Another sigh breaks the silence. The sky slowly lightens as daybreak approaches. I think to myself that perhaps I could sleep a bit later in the morning now that the days are shorter, but I know it’s a wasted thought; I wake when I wake. It happens to be quite early. I do my best to make good use of the time.

… I resent feeling so stupidly fussy and irritable without good cause…

I pause my writing and my thoughts when my alarm reminds me to take my morning meds. I do that while noting sourly to myself that as things are going, I’ll be unlikely to ever retire, becoming one of those older folks who works for a living until my grave opens up to receive the last of my frail remains. G’damn that’s fucking depressing. I’ve wanted to retire since I entered the fucking workforce. I take a deep breath and let it go, along with the thought. The future is not written. I breathe, exhale, relax, and bring myself back to this moment, which, although characterized by this almost comically bleak mood, isn’t really all that bad, otherwise.

Be here, now.

I work at resetting my mood. I fail, and I try again. I look for different perspectives. I take a moment to really “hear myself”. Limited success, and I keep trying. I know “the way out is through” and I know I will become what I practice. I keep practicing. Change is, and eventually this mood will pass. Eventually, I’ll understand what gadfly is biting my metaphysical ass and be more easily able to do something about it. Slow going, this morning, and my irritability vexes me.

The first hint of a new day.

Daybreak comes, and with it a chance to begin again. I frown pointlessly at the sky, missing old friends and somehow also missing solitude (in spite of being literally alone in this moment). I grab my cane and get my stupid human ass out of the car and on my feet. It’s time to begin again.

… Maybe I can just walk it off…?

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Categories Allegories, anhedonia, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, Frustration, health, loneliness, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, The Art of Being, War and News of War

Something, Something Else

September 15, 2024 //
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I was complaining yesterday about my early morning “me time” being interrupted and trying to communicate the way that has potential to undermine my self-care, generally. I didn’t recognize it at the time, but I did get through to my Traveling Partner, who was subsequently very considerate about my time this morning, although he is excited to talk about a tool he’d like to have and a choice opportunity to obtain it that developed last night. I feel very loved and “heard”. I remind myself to say so and express my appreciation.

… This morning I overslept…

I headed to the nearby local trail I favor, for my morning walk, just in case I may later be driving a distance for a tool. Love is funny like that; I’d do most anything to see my partner smile, even drive a long way on a short weekend, to look at a tool.

… Funny thing… I got to the trailhead ahead of the sun, eager for a peaceful satisfying walk with my thoughts… Humans. Shit. Two vehicles parked askew in my usual spot. I don’t own it, so… Shit happens, eh? Public place. I park on the other side of the parking lot and start meditating as I wait for the sun. One vehicle starts it engine and idles awhile. (Are you kidding me!?) It’s a biiig Cummins diesel with a nasty whine to it. Fucking loud. It’s hard to meditate. Or think. Fucking noisy humans. Finally. The truck drives away. Minutes later the aggressively well-cared for sports car that was parked alongside the truck starts it’s engine, high beams shining in my eye, and idles awhile. (Are you fucking kidding me with this rude-ass bullshit?! What the hell?) I sigh irritably and wait it out. They leave, too, and I’m finally alone with the stillness of morning… until another early riser shows up, parks right next to me, and begins unloading dogs to walk the trail, too. FFS. G’damn it. Life is clearly teaching me a lesson this morning.

It’s not quite daybreak and she walks away, with her headlamp on. Damn that’s a lot of dogs for so early in the morning. lol

I move my car over to my preferred parking spot. No bright streetlight overhead, better view of the treeline on the far side of the meadow. I begin again.

It’s a new day. Enjoy it.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I sit quietly with my thoughts. I meditate while I wait for the sun. I wonder about the day ahead while I lace up my boots and grab my cane. Change is. Our expectations are not the reality. The map is not the world. We’re each walking our own mile and having our own experience. Circumstances are what they are; how we understand them, and what we feel and think and choose to do are within our control. We have choices. Results may vary. The journey is the destination.

There’s enough light now to see the trail ahead, until it turns the bend into the darkness among the trees. It’s definitely time to begin again – this path won’t walk itself. 😀

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

Cosmic Joke

September 10, 2024 //
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I may be losing my hearing. I’m also still very “sound sensitive”. This seems like an incredibly cruel prank, and it’s hard to find the humor in it…but…I’m betting it’s there, somewhere, because this shit is too stupid, annoying, and also all too fucking real to be tragic, and I’m sick of it already. Irrelevant to the present moment, aside from the high-pitched whine and “static” in my ears all the time. (It seems much louder than it once was.) My Traveling Partner reminded me recently that it could be a byproduct of one or more of the medications I take. That’s it’s own annoying thing.

This morning is fine, though. I sigh and let go of my annoyance over the tinnitus and breathe. I woke on time, thought about resetting my alarm and sleeping longer, but wakefulness overtook me as quickly as the thought formed. The mild fever (probably caused by one of the vaccines I got on Sunday) that sent me to bed so early yesterday seemed to have broken during the second half of the night, sometime. I woke damp with sweat but feeling generally okay. It’s a new day.

Waiting for the sun.

New morning. New day. New opportunity to begin again. I breathe, exhale, and relax. The hint of chill in the air suggests a warm fleece and I am grateful to have left mine in the car. I put it on and feel more comfortable. I sit with my thoughts, waiting on the sunrise. Short walk today, maybe. I consider my energy level and the likely demands of the workday ahead. It was a good choice to take yesterday off. I definitely needed the rest.

I sit for a moment, quietly, wondering what I need today?

I take my morning meds, and sip my coffee. Cosmic jokes aside, it’s an ordinary day, likely to be filled with ordinary moments. I think about dinner, later… Can I reserve enough energy to cook a proper meal? I’d very much like to. There are so many careful choices to make between now and then, if that’s to be a thing. (When did it become so complicated?)

I breathe, exhale, and relax. Daybreak comes and I can see the trail sufficiently well to walk it (at least along the edge of the meadow and the vineyard), by the time I get to the denser trees along the creek bank, it’ll be past sunrise. I chuckle to myself; none of this requires planning or additional thought, this is a familiar trail, and a familiar experience. I only need to do the verbs. I change from my soft shoes to my boots and prepare to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Practices, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being

What Are You Practicing?

August 24, 2024 //
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We become what we practice. Prove me wrong. When I practice being calm, I become a calmer person. When I practice listening I become a better listener. When I practice kindness, I become more inclined to be kind, generally.

…If I practice being angry, I become more easily angered, more often, and more likely to react with anger to circumstances and people that may not warrant such a reaction at all…

When I practice perspective and consideration, my perspective on life deepens, and I become more considerate.

The next conversation you have with someone may determine whether you continue to have the relationship you do. Good or bad. More connected or more distant. The words you choose and the emotions you embody become reality. A real experience being experienced. A memory being made.

Who are you? Who is that other person to you? If you live as the person you most want to be, how will you behave? What are you choosing to practice?

The way ahead is not always clear. It’s still your path, and you choose your direction and your steps.

You have choices. Choose wisely.

I reached the trailhead before daybreak, park gate still closed. I’m okay with that. I find the quiet solitary time necessary to my well-being and sometimes hard to snatch from a busy day. I enjoy every quiet moment that I happen upon. I sit awhile and reflect before I ever reach for my device, listening to the sound of traffic on the highway, and the ringing in my ears that never ceases and rarely diminishes.

A morning well-suited to solitary reflection.

The gate opens with a sort of screeching creaking sound. This morning my plan is to walk the entire loop trail around the marsh, (3 miles), then cut over to the river trail, and walk that out and back (1 mile each way) for a 5 mile walk. Goals. I change into my boots, remembering to grab my water bottle, my cane, my lightweight collapsible 3-legged camp stool, and a beautiful tangerine for later. The sky begins to lighten, and the fog begins to lift. Nice day for a walk with my thoughts.

I stand ready at the beginning of the marsh trail, listening for a moment, before  I begin. I breathe the meadow-sweet air at the edge of the marsh. I feel vaguely sleepy under the cloudy gray sky. I sigh to myself as I step forward; no beautiful sunrise this morning and it looks like rain.  As an afterthought, I grab my lightweight rain poncho and stuff it in my back pocket, “just in case”, and head down the trail.

Weed or wildflower? It’s largely a matter of context and perspective.

Sometime later, I stop at my decision-making point, where the marsh trail and river trail intersect. Walk on? Three miles or five? I unfold my little camp stool and take a seat to rest a moment. The air is cool and fresh and scented with something that seems at once both floral and spicy. I breathe, exhale, and relax. This moment is mine to enjoy however I wish. I choose gratitude, contentment, and joy, sitting here with my solitary thoughts.

…It really doesn’t have to be more complicated. Choose. Practice. We become what we practice…

I can’t tell you how to live your life. I’m just pointing out that you have (and make) choices. If your emotional experience of life is characterized by anger, frustration, and disappointment, which definitely sucks, you have the opportunity every day to choose (and practice) something very different. Life isn’t something inflicted upon you; you are living your experience. You choose your words, your actions, and to a large degree even your thoughts. If you don’t enjoy life as you live it now, choose to live it differently. The choices (and consequences of those choices) are yours.

… Sometimes growth and progress are uncomfortable. Sometimes we have to work harder, and go farther. Sometimes we have to chuck out what hasn’t worked and begin all over again. I look down the trail ahead of me. Five miles. I choose to walk on, and go further. I collapse my folding stool and sling it over my shoulder. It’s time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being, weight loss secrets
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