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The Way Things Are Going

November 8, 2026 //
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I woke feeling angry following a night of terrible dreams and repeatedly waking to find that I had pulled off my CPAP mask in my sleep, again. (I say “again”, but it is quite uncommon generally. Last night was unusual.)

Note: I notice after I finish this, it’s mostly fairly pointless bitching about physical pain and this shitty mood I’m in. Maybe you’d prefer to skip it? Figured I’d give you that chance right up front.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

I woke angry, yes, and I also woke aware that I “wasn’t feeling like myself” in some fashion. As I reflect on the experience, my suspicion is that the combination of yesterday afternoon with my Traveling Partner (fraught with contentious angry conversation) on top of not taking a opiod painkiller this morning, is the root cause of my irritable mood. Bad moods, like bad dreams, are temporary, fleeting, and I know they will pass. In the meantime, I’m sitting irritably by the side of this favorite trail, content with the solitude and darkness, and definitely okay with not being around anyone else right now.

My tinnitus is shrieking loudly in my head. The high pitched whine and cicada-like buzz are more than usually annoying. My osteoarthritis is raging up my spine from its origin near my fusion, and climbing vertebrae by vertebrae from about T13 to the base of my skull. It has taken it 40 years to make that journey, one inflamed crunchy joint at a time, over years. Yeah, if you think arthritis is exclusively a disease of aging, you would be mistaken. Each year, the pain is the worst where it is the newest development. I guess I’m grateful I still have a few joints that are not obviously arthritic. Was it last year or the year before that it got to my collar bone? (I know, right? I didn’t know that was a thing until it happened!)

… This year the slow progression of my osteoarthritis reached my thumbs, that first joint, where the thumb connects to the hand. The pain is remarkable. I have no words to describe it. Some days, it robs me of my ability to hold a pen, a pastel, or do anything much that requires a grip.

… What a downer, I know…

Daybreak comes. So far I have managed to beat the rain. It followed me up the highway, and stopped shortly after I arrived at the trailhead. I have the trail to myself. I’m glad. I honestly don’t want to deal with people at all, this morning. No errands to run, and I’ll stretch this morning time out as long as practical, to give my beloved some wakeup time before subjecting him to my pain and my shitty mood.. I will probably duck into my studio and paint, while my hands permit it.

How long will I still be able to paint, and what comes after that? I sigh to myself. Slow tears slide down my face. I don’t know what they are really about; this morning is hard. I pay them no attention, I allow them to fall.

“This just in; middle-aged woman sobs by the side of a lonely marsh trail on a rainy autumn morning. It isn’t very interesting. Back to you.” 😆

… I still have my sense of humor, such as it is (which is, generally, not actually funny to anyone else, but it will suffice)…

Look, some of this angsty bullshit is almost frighteningly mundane. Emotional baggage combined with chronic pain, fear of losing my ability to paint (and the sad  feeling that it may be inevitable), on top of a difficult night, and not taking an opiod this morning (after taking them for several days) seems like a lot to deal with – it would be an incredible stroke of good luck if I didn’t feel like hell this morning in one way or another. That it feels like “all the ways I could feel like crap” is unfortunate, but not my first time dealing with it. I breathe, exhale, and relax. Part of good self-care is taking a minute to observe, acknowledge, and let go. No, it isn’t easy, but it is a shorter path to feeling better again than… not.

… Still gotta do the verbs. PT stretches. Healthy exercise. Regular medications on time. Meditation. A shower, clean clothes, healthy calories. Drink water. Be present. Be kind to myself. Rest when I need rest. Ask for help when I need help. Accept that these mortal bodies are only good for so much. Do what I can, and do my best, and only that.

… And paint. While I am able. Less fucking bitching, more g’damned painting. 😂

I watch the ducks and geese floating on the marsh ponds. The ponds have begun to refill with autumn rains. The meadow is becoming marshy again. I sit enjoying the solitude awhile, grateful for the unseasonably warm weather, and the pause in the rain. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I’ll just enjoy this moment, here, now, until it is time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, art and the artist, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, The Art of Being, women, Words

Sprinkles

November 6, 2026 //
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The autumn air smelled of rain as I left the house. I inhaled it deeply, grateful for the mild morning, and also that I had managed to leave for the day without creating drama over the difficult unrestful night.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

It started sprinkling just as I got to the trail. Little spatters of rain tapping pleasantly on my rain poncho. It’s isn’t enough to discourage walking. I walk on, thinking about other “sprinkles” in life…

… Major changes in Congress, both House and Senate.

… Amazing firsts among newly elected Governors.

… Celebrity rapists being tried and convicted.

…. Communities standing together against AI data centers and AI slop.

A lot of things won’t change, or won’t change yet, but some things will. Maybe humanity will figure shit out and do better? Maybe elected officials will figure their shit out and actually govern skillfully on behalf of all the people?

Maybe. Maybe not. I won’t hold my breath – but I will appreciate the sprinkles of improvement and change.

… Sometimes the best thing I can do for myself in a difficult moment is stop and really appreciate what is good, and the things that are going well. It is easy for our negativity bias to take over and persuade us that life is crappy. Moments pass. It is worthwhile to let small shit stay small.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. My usual halfway point was occupied today. Racoons. So cute and fluffy, but seriously not to be trifled with. I walked on a ways to this spot. In the darkness, it may as well be the same spot. The sky is cloudy, no stars. There’s an orange sort of glow along the northern horizon, where the lights of town illuminate the clouds from below. The rain stops. My physical pain continues. Life. Change is. I take another deep breath, and exhale slowly.

I sit with my thoughts awhile. The weekend is ahead. I’d like to paint, but there’s a ton of housework to do. It seems smart to focus on getting healthy rest and doing a bunch of chores. I remind myself to ask my beloved what he needs out of the weekend before I commit to plans.

The sky begins to lighten. A new day. A doe steps out of the trees and crosses the trail into the vineyard. She regards me calmly as she passes. I exhale the breath I had been holding unintentionally and breathe in again, exhaling, and relaxing.

I meditate. Write. Then? Begin again. There’s a whole new day ahead. Time to walk on, get coffee, and get to work. I get to my feet, and look down the path. No idea where the journey ultimately leads, but this is my path and I’m walking it.

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Categories Allegories, art and the artist, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, The Art of Being, The Big 5, Words

Choices, Chances, Changes

November 4, 2026 //
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Wednesday after an election day Tuesday, so half(ish) of the nation is waking up to (predictable) disappointment, the other half to (premature) celebration. A smaller number may wake wondering whether or why it matters at all.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

Me? I wake up groggy, exceedingly so. I manage to avoid making a lot of noise as I dress and leave the house, but I’ve got a nagging sensation that I forgot something, or forgot to do something… and as I walk the trail my thoughts are dominated neither by the election results nor by the starry sky overhead; I’m wondering if I left lights on.

… G’damn it, I sure hope I didn’t wreck my beloved Traveling Partner’s sleep!

The morning is quiet. I get to my halfway point and stop. The starry sky overhead delights me, although I only recognize a small number of constellations and visible planets. The night sky is quite beautiful. The autumn air smells of past rain and current dampness, leaves, and fireplace smoke. I inhale deeply and exhale slowly. I relax as I sit here.

I breathe, exhale, relax, and take time for meditation. I don’t practice meditation when I’m stressed out; I simply practice. Every morning and evening, and sometimes in the afternoon after work, are my “regularly scheduled” times for meditation. Yes, I sometimes also meditate when I’m stressed out, but isn’t that more akin to grabbing a screwdriver when you need one, than practicing a practice?

…It is the steady practice that makes meditation so effective for stress reduction…

It is a work day, but that time is not now. I sit under the stars on this mild autumn morning thinking about… Giftmas. It’s very much time to plan the holidays. It’ll be a quiet and modest year for it, this year. Minimal expense, maximum joy. (Or something like that.) Thanksgiving is less than a month away… I remind myself to order pie at the farm store down the road.

…Pleasant calming thoughts, apparently; I doze off while sitting here and wake with a physical jerk, probably a response to my head dropping as sleep began to overcome me. I’m still pretty groggy. I stand up – I’ve never been able to fall asleep standing up – and finish my writing on my feet.

A fog begins to gather, seeming to flow up out of the creek bed and pooling in low places as it spreads across the vineyard adjacent to the trail. Coffee will be a much appreciated luxury after this walk. I’m grateful for the mild weather. I’m grateful that although I am groggy and still struggling to shake off sleep, I’m not also struggling with vertigo or my headache. Physically, I feel pretty good this morning, and the touch of arthritis pain is manageable.

Mm… Definitely coffee next. I stretch and yawn, and turn my headlamp back on. It’s already time to begin again.

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

Tips From a Friend

October 12, 2026 //
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Here it is Monday, again. I’ll admit, my enthusiasm is seriously limited by the pain I’m in. It is what it is, I guess.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

I re-read the article my Traveling Partner shared with me, yesterday and think about it as I walk. It’s a cold morning, but not freezing. Today I remembered to dress warmly. I walk down the trail in the darkness, thinking my thoughts.

The article my beloved shared with me includes some excellent tips for clear communication, practices that (when practiced) really work:

    Active Listening: Practice active listening by putting your own opinions aside and genuinely trying to understand the other person’s perspective. Reflecting back on their thoughts and feelings can help establish a sense of empathy and build rapport.

    Empathy and Validation: Recognize and validate the emotions and concerns expressed by the other person. Acknowledging their experiences, even if you disagree with their viewpoints, can create a more receptive atmosphere for any discussion.

    Calm and Respectful Tone: Maintaining a calm and respectful tone and avoiding personal attacks or derogatory language can make a huge difference. By keeping emotions in check, you can foster a more constructive dialogue and prevent further escalation.

    Find Common Ground: Look for shared values, objectives, or aspirations that might serve as a foundation for getting to a common ground. Highlighting areas of agreement can help bridge the gap between differing perspectives.

    Ask Open-Ended Questions: Encourage deeper reflection and exploration by asking about things that invite the other person to speak out their thoughts. This approach can promote self-reflection and potentially lead to a more nuanced understanding.

Good tips. Profoundly good, and like chess,  the basics are so basic one might miss how difficult it might be to master. It is necessary to do the verbs. Worth the work that goes into it. Barring some clinical condition that might get in the way, this is a fantastic starting point for close connected communication and conflict resolution. I walk thinking about change.

This morning my head aches. My arthritis is giving me grief, too, in that very specific way that I associate with cold mornings. It seems worst in my thumbs, and my neck, places where it is a more recent development. I walk briskly this morning in spite of pain. It’s too chilly to stroll.

I get to my halfway point fairly quickly and stop, write a few words, reflect on the challenges of the weekend (and the moments of joy), and meditate under the stars. What peculiar mortal lives these are, and so brief…

Untitled pastel, 2026

I think I’d like to spend more time in my studio this week. I have a lot on my mind, and some of it I just don’t have words for. I sigh to myself, rubbing my hands together briskly in the cold. It’s time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, grief, health, inspiration, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, The Art of Being, The Big 5, War and News of War, women, Words

Seeing Red

October 11, 2026 //
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I have an anger problem. Just saying that in such a simple way makes me deeply anxious.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

I’m not certain quite when I became fully aware that I have a problem with anger. Sometime during my first marriage, maybe. Once my violent ex-husband had broken me, the coping skills that functioned as a frozen and inauthentic fake of emotional regulation went to pieces in a frightening way (for me). It was surreal and terrifying to really lose control, and in that loss of control, I became the bad guy. I mean, that was his narrative at the time. It was me. My fault, he’d tell me.

Many many years of therapy later, I understand better, but… I’m still left with an anger problem, and I haven’t done the needful to really sort it out. I squash it, and try to make it small. That hasn’t helped. I know, factually, that “the way out is through” but actually walking that hard mile terrifies me. So I keep dodging it.

“Seeing Red” pastel on Pastelmat 7″ x 9″, 2026

…Aaaand, since I’m not unpacking my own terrifying anger, I certainly can’t easily cope with, accept, understand, or make space for my Traveling Partner’s anger, however reasonable. So…yeah; I’ve got an anger problem. It’s my anger that I’ve got the problem with, but the result of not dealing with it has rendered me prone to being incredibly easily triggered by any anger at all.

“Anxiety” 10″ x 14″ acrylic on canvas w/ceramic 2011

Anger and anxiety have some sort of reciprocal arrangement. When I’m already anxious, being exposed to explicit displays of anger or aggressive posturing put me on the defensive, quickly, then mire me in panic. In more than one relationship this was used against me in a deliberate strategic way. I did eventually learn that love doesn’t behave that way. That life lesson ended a long-term relationship of more than a decade. I remember the way my Traveling Partner (a close friend at that time) helped me through it. I remember how shocked and puzzled I was that violence had erupted on the evening that would be the last of that relationship, out of nowhere, in a relationship that had never known violence before.

… I sit with that assessment realizing it might be viewed quite differently by my ex…

… I still carry the emotional scars; I respond to anger first with terror. I no longer know what might follow the terror. It’s been a long time since I’ve ever been pushed beyond the terror (and I hope I sort this out before I ever am)…

I sit with my thoughts in the autumn sunshine. My chest aches and my heart is still pounding. I feel as if I’m fighting for air to breathe. I remind myself that’s the physical experience of panic. Breathe. Just breathe. I hear the encouragement in my beloved’s voice. The breakdown of our harmonious communication was surely on me. Baggage, compounding brain damage. It used to feel easier, then I started working towards healing, for real. Now it isn’t so easy; I am accountable for my actions and my words. I’m responsible for the hurt they may deliver. It’s rough. A lot of work. I make a lot of mistakes. (I imagine I’m very hard to live with.) Authentic connected intimate communication between loving equals is not effortless, and faking it does not work.

“Emotion and Reason” 18″ x 24″ acrylic w/ceramic and glow details, 2012

I guess I’ve got to begin again, and start really dealing with my anger. It’s time. The clock is ticking. These mortal lives are too brief to waste on anger, but ignoring it or trying to stifle it isn’t the way forward. I squint into the sun, but can’t see past the bend in the path up ahead. I breathe, exhale, and repeat, focusing on my breathing. My beloved sent me an article he suggests may be helpful. Definitely time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, art and the artist, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, grief, meditation, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, The Big 5, women
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