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House of Pain

August 31, 2025 //
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Yesterday was a pretty relaxed day of getting things done, although not that many things, and rather slowly. I spent the day in pain, and that put pain management as a high priority, competing for my attention through the day. My Traveling Partner was also dealing with pain, and struggling to focus on the work he was doing, too. We managed to enjoy the day together in spite of pain. Later, when the Anxious Adventurer returned home from work, he brought his own pain along with him. Nonetheless, we all mostly managed to mostly enjoy the time, without complicating the experience with pain. That’s something, and I sit for a moment this morning, grateful for the good day yesterday in spite of pain. Everybody hurts sometimes… Living with chronic pain is its own special hell, but it can be managed to some extent.

It could have been worse; I found enough “spoons” to bake cookies.

I woke this morning from a deep restful sleep, and was awake for a few minutes before I realized I wasn’t asleep anymore. I got dressed and headed to the local trailhead I favor. I don’t have any reason to drive further, really, and this is a pleasant trail and it is a quiet morning. It’s Labor Day weekend, and there’s no one here but me, so far. It’s the sort of weekend a lot of families use to go to the coast or to the mountains, this little suburban trail is neither of those.

A hazy summer sky reminds me that the world is burning, elsewhere.

I walk the trail, down through the oaks, between the parking lot and the vineyards, winding around the bend past mature grape vines, and down into the trees that grow more densely along the creek, until I get to this spot, convenient to sit a moment with my thoughts. I’ve grown very comfortable with practicing meditation outside, somewhere along the trail I’ve chosen, in the early morning. I’m rarely interrupted. It’s pleasant and quite calming. Lovely morning for it, in spite of the haze of distant wildfires.

… I’m still in pain (again) today. Like a lot of people, I live with chronic pain…

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I reflect on age, and aging, the vagaries of the absolutely crap-tacular US healthcare system, and what it means to balance endurance with joy, and what it takes to thrive in spite of chronic pain. Then I let all that go and enjoy this lovely morning moment of quiet contentment out here on this trail. I’m less anxious, knowing I’ll go back to work on Tuesday, which is helpful. Like a lot of other things, anxiety tends to worsen pain, or at least seems to make it more difficult to manage or ignore.

I watch some chipmunks playing at the edge of the trees. They delight me. I would definitely pet one if it came close enough, and laugh at myself over it. It’s probably not a good idea to try to pet wild creatures, generally speaking. I spend a moment wondering if I’m such a chucklehead that I’d actually do something so foolish, or would I only want to? I find myself unable to be entirely certain. I hope I’d choose wisely. My ability to apply self-restraint and impulse control are much better on the GLP-1 I’ve now been taking for more than a year. It has improved my life quite a lot, because I’m not so likely to do dumb shit “because it seemed like the thing to do at the time”.

The rising sun illuminates the strip of meadow beyond the trail that separates the forest from the vineyard. I see an elder couple walking their dog slowly approaching from the farthest point along the trail still visible to me. Nice morning for it, and I knew I wouldn’t have the trail to myself indefinitely. They wave and offer a cheery greeting as they pass. I wave back and reply.

More housework today, I guess, that’s the routine. Pain slows me down, but I try to avoid letting it stop me. There’s just too much to do, and we’re all in pain (in this household) – someone still has to get things done. When we all commit to doing what we can and coordinate our efforts, we still manage a pretty good quality of life, and sometimes even manage to forget the pain for a little while. It doesn’t do to let things go too long, it’s harder to catch up than it is to stay on top of things.

…New job Tuesday…

I sigh to myself and enjoy the cool summer morning and the scents on the breeze. Meadow flowers. Mown grasses. Forest and creek. The lavender scent I’m wearing, that reaches my nose when I move. My hair feels soft on my shoulders and I wonder again if I should get it cut? I feel comfortable in my skin in spite of my pain, and grateful to have worn a sweater over my lighter summer top. The first hints of autumn approaching are all around, and the cooler morning is just one sign.

I’ve lingered here awhile and my legs are beginning to feel stiff. It’s time to walk on. This day is a good one to get things done… but there are definitely some verbs involved. lol It’s time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, joy, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Practices, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being, weight loss secrets

Where Does This Path Lead?

August 30, 2025 //
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I arrived at the trailhead just at daybreak. No waiting required. I laced up my boots, grabbed my cane and stepped out onto the trail dimly visible in the gloom of dawn. There’s a dense mist clinging to the low places, and the air feels a bit more brisk than recent summer mornings. Fall is coming.

A new day, a new moment, a new beginning.

The trail crunched under my feet as I stepped along carefully. With each step the sky lightened, dawn becoming day, and more of the trail being revealed to my eyes. Sounds in the brush became little birds, an occasional squirrel, and a possum. Further down the trail, I passed by a family of racoons, and wondered if it is the same family of racoons I’ve seen here before? Out in the mists of the meadow, I see a small herd of deer. I have the sensation of solitude, though I know there are other people on the trail this morning; I saw two cars parked nearby when I arrived.

I walk with my thoughts. I’m back to work Tuesday, though not inclined to fuss about it much or celebrate too eagerly. No particular doubts or concerns that it could fall through, it’s not that at all, it’s more that these feel like uncertain times, and I’m very fortunate to secure a new position so quickly, and not inclined to have that information create stress for folks who may not be similarly fortunate. So, I take a chill and somewhat discreet approach to the whole thing, to avoid being callous or haplessly cruel. I am excited though. It’s a new beginning, and a new adventure.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. It is a Saturday, at the start of a long weekend. I don’t have any plans, besides a bit of housework and getting myself ready for a new job. I decide to go to the co-work space I’d been frequenting in my previous job, for day 1. Convenient, familiar… and “colleagues” there will appreciate knowing I am back to work and okay. I’ll work out something closer for the long-term if I can. Gas is expensive and it makes very little sense to drive so far to work remotely! 😂

Summer oaks

Arriving at my halfway point, I see racoons playing where I generally take a seat, on a fallen log. I walk on a little way to a large rock, out in the open, past the oaks. The meadow stretches out before me, and I can see headlights sweep around the curve of the highway beyond. In a few more weeks, most of the meadow will become marsh, and the seasonal trail will close. I take a deep breath of the fresh morning air. It smells of summer flowers and mown grass.

I’m feeling mostly pretty ready for the changes ahead. I know change can be hard on me, though, and I give thought to what sorts of things might ease the feelings of upheaval and disruption. Like doing the first shift from a familiar co-work space, there are little things I can do to make the experience feel more comfortable. It’s mostly a matter of good self-care.

I watch the dawn become day. No sunrise, really, the sun is obscured by dense gray clouds on the eastern horizon and the clear starry night sky has become a milky overcast backdrop for silhouetted birds and trees, with only the faintest suggestion of blue. Will it rain, I wonder? The forecast says it’s unlikely, but the air smells like rain, here, now. The morning mist spreads, creeping towards me until I am surrounded by it. I’ll sit awhile longer with my thoughts… and enjoy this new beginning.

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Categories Allegories, breathe, gratitude, Healthy Living, joy, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Practices, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being

Don’t Forget To Breathe

August 28, 2025 //
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I’m waiting for the sun. Daylight will arrive, I’ll walk this local trail, then it’s job search activities, appointments, and errands. I’m grateful that planning and task management are among my skills; the fatigue of what I’m presently going through finally caught up with me yesterday. (I even snapped at my Traveling Partner in a misdirected moment of frustration and cognitive overload.)

There’s nothing noteworthy about a human primate feeling emotional or overwhelmed by stress, or distracted by competing priorities. Hell, there’s nothing noteworthy about having to manage stress, or needing to reinforce good self-care practices. It’s not even noteworthy that I finally reached the tipping point between purposeful action, and disabling fatigue. Just happens to be that I got there yesterday.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I needed the deeply restful sleep I got last night. Today feels a little less overwhelming. I sit waiting for the sun, drinking water, and thinking about a recent conversation with a friend (who is also a former colleague). I may not be out of work very long, which is reassuring. I’ve even gotten a couple of “lucky breaks” this week that serve to reduce my stress quite a lot. I’m more okay than not, just very human and enduring a stressful circumstance.

I watch the sky lighten to a dishwater gray. The hills to the west are hazy from smoke of distant wildfires. A walk will feel good. I remind myself again how critical good self-care is, especially right now. I’m fatigued from managing stress, and I’m in pain from my arthritis. The physical discomfort piles on with the background stress, and in spite of a good night’s sleep and good self-care, I feel rundown and quite exhausted. Hilarious that I see more physical work as something to re-energize me. It probably will, though, for some little while. Eventually there has to be a reckoning and I wonder what else I can do to help myself through this?

I can almost hear my Traveling Partner’s voice reminding me, “don’t forget to breathe”, and realize I was indeed holding my breathe. I exhale, and breathe deeply. The summer air is sweet and floral with the scents of summer flowers and mown grasses. It is a pretty morning, pleasantly cool, and very quiet.

Nice morning to walk with my thoughts.

I lace up my boots and grab my cane. The beautiful summer morning calls me to come walk and enjoy the moment. I’m grateful to be reminded that I don’t have to hustle frantically from task to task and moment to moment. Better to take things one by one, to be truly present, and really enjoy things as they are. This won’t last, and overloading myself with self-imposed stress and nonsensically strict obligations is just silly. Life is best lived, savored, and enjoyed!

I smile and sigh to myself, and stretch. I look down the trail and think about it as a metaphor for forward momentum and progress, and this journey that is life. It’s time to walk on. Time to begin. Again.

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

Perception, Perspective, Reality

August 16, 2025 //
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I am in some pain this morning, but nothing like the worst of the pain I am sometimes in. My coffee is good, better than average, not my best cup of coffee. I sit quietly with my thoughts and my coffee, after my walk, giving my illness-weakened body a little time to recover from the walking, before I get started on the housework. It’s a cycle, this thing we call “life”. Many cycles, actually, on a journey without a map. It’s easy to narrow my focus to just this space, here, and to allow life to become the cycles, and little more: sleep, walk, coffee, write, work, rest, cook, clean-up, sleep again. We are so much more than the practical task-handling endeavors that are necessary to build and maintain the quality of life we enjoy. Getting ahead sometimes means so much more work, and doesn’t always feel “worth it”. Falling behind happens in an instant of thoughtless ease. Finding balance is sometimes difficult, and I sometimes sacrifice self-care on the alter of providing for others (not a healthy approach long-term).

…I am fortunate and grateful for a partnership that encourages self-care and provides mutual respect…

My Traveling Partner inquired about the towels this morning – were there more clean washcloths somewhere? I’d fallen behind on the laundry, and committed to doing that today. When I arrived home, he’d already started a load of laundry. Having help feels good. Going into the kitchen, I see dishes piled in the sink… no one thought to do the dishes while I was down sick. I frowned at the dishes while I made my coffee. I’ll get those done, too. (Definitely feeling better.) Pride of place, a sense of responsibility, and a desired quality of life tend to be enough to keep me at it, but omg, sometimes it is just much. (I will admit that one practical factor in my lifelong decision to remain child-free was my total lack of interest in doing all that work for some other human being, most especially without help!) It’s hard to take the breaks I sometimes need, to maintain my own health. Finding balance is complicated… Why is that so complicated?? I think it comes down to a couple of things: perceptions, perspective, and reality.

One perspective on a morning walk.

How we perceive things around us changes when we’re ill, or under stress, and our priorities may change in the moment. How people around us perceive things may be something we have to consider, too, depending on their needs and expectations. When we’re sick, we may care a lot less about the vacuuming, or clean kitchen counters. When we’re exhausted, we may not care at all about whether the shower is actually clean. All very human, eh? But, once we’re back at our best, those things may suddenly matter quite a lot, and begin to be something causing us stress or a sense of urgency.

…I really dislike the “catch-up cycle” after I’ve been ill; I feel like I have to get it all done immediately to make up for any allowances and accommodations I made while I was ill (a thoroughly internalized lingering consequence of growing up in a culture of misogyny that treats the unpaid labor of women as a given, and a notable bit of baggage I am still dragging around)…

A very different perspective, focused on the details.

Our perspective on the details, large and small, is a big piece of how we set our priorities. Do the dishes in the sink matter a lot – or just matter a lot to me? Is it a health concern, or just something I don’t like to see? (Some people don’t care that much about having a handful of dishes in the sink that need to be washed and put away, other people have literal break-downs over a dirty glass sitting in an otherwise clean sink. Care to guess which one I am?* Which one are you?) Sometimes, keeping an orderly house feels more like self-care than it feels like manual labor. In circumstances such as that, it’s pretty easy to “stay caught up” and handle those tasks as a sort of meditation. Things do take the time they take, though, and housekeeping workload stands in defiance of creative endeavors. Again with the challenge of finding fucking balance. I sip my coffee and laugh at myself. I do what I can. I get a lot done – often more than I think I’m capable of, because even there – my perspective may not be a close fit to reality.

What we turn our attention to, and how we think about what we perceive, changes how we understand the world around us.

…Reality always gets the last word…

When I had cats years ago, I was quite convinced that my cats didn’t do any damage to my home, and that I kept things sufficiently tidy that there was “no cat smell”. That’s perception. I felt that the benefits to having my (much loved) cats far outweighed any concerns about cleanliness or health – lots of people have, and love, cats. That’s perspective getting involved. We don’t all see the world the same way, nor do we all share the same understanding of it. Still, the world is the world – reality largely ignores our perceptions and perspectives and just does its own thing. My apartment full of cats (and many of my belongings) definitely “smelled like cats” – but I didn’t perceive it (acclimation) and didn’t understand what I didn’t see as a potential concern (lack of adequate perspective). The reality of it was unmistakable when I moved out. (As well as difficult and costly to remedy, due primarily to my lack of awareness over time.)

I’m just saying – I have a shitload of housework to catch up on, after a camping trip, several days in too much pain to do housework, and then being sick. I can chuckle over how human that is, now. It is what it is, right? Now I see the need, because my perspective has shifted with my improving state of wellness. I feel the internal pressure to make it a very high priority – putting myself at risk of poor self-care. Cycles and balance. Fuck. Adulting is hard.

…We do become what we practice…

I sigh to myself and glare into my now-cold coffee. I’ve got a to-do list ready, and it’s a long one (but I’ve got the entire weekend to work on it). It’s already time to begin again – I’ll just be over here doing my best.

…

…

*Both. I’m rather inconveniently both of those types of people with regard to the dishes. Baggage is heavy… I remind myself to put some down.

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

Lighting Up The New Dark Age

August 11, 2025 //
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I’m sipping my coffee on a routine (for most values of “routine”) Monday. I consider checking the news feed for whatever might be genuinely newsworthy, but decide against it; I don’t feel like wading through the bullshit sponsored content, partisan lies and ill-intentioned spin, and clickbait intended to grab my attention while some unknown other grabs my data. None of that shit rises to the level of “news”, and I definitely don’t need to be told (again) that billionaires are self-serving, or that “the government” is corrupt.

There’s a “heat warning” for this area, over the next day or two. This is a type of weather warning that did not exist when I was a kid. This kind of heat, in a lot of places around the country (and the world) did not exist when I was a kid. For me, personally, this defines “climate change” – the heat. Hotter summer days and more of them, in an area that once laughed about summer’s lack of warmth in “June-uary” and enjoyed fairly frequent drenching rain, even in summertime; there’s a lot less laughter about that, now, and a lot less summer rain.

I’m finding the outcomes of the terrible (and cruel) decision-making of the current US administration pretty disheartening, and thoroughly objectionable. From refusing to regulate AI or protect creator IP, from censorships to tariffs, this government is succeeding… in bringing about a new dark age. What to do about that, though? I sip my coffee and think about how to bring the light of the world to the dark future unfolding right now… I probably sound overly dramatic. Still, here we all are, eh? So…what to do? I have some thoughts…

  1. Read (and buy) actual bound books written exclusively by human authors. Talk about them.
  2. Consume content (while the internet is still available at all) created by human creators. Share that.
  3. Enjoy, support, and buy real (original) art created by living human artists – and buy it, where you can, directly from the artist(s).
  4. Learn practical skills and buy the tools required to do the things. Especially skills that don’t rely entirely on electricity, internet connectivity, and the existence of the power grid – people with useful skills always have a place within their community. Learn to make things.
  5. Be curious and seek information (ideally from vetted sources with reliably recognized expertise).
  6. If you have land (even enough for a small garden, or containers on a patio) grow food – particularly heirloom varieties unburdened by patents, or reproductive restrictions.
  7. Connect with other real human beings in IRL places as frequently as you can – and have real conversations about real world concerns and circumstances, and current events and find common ground together. Yes, even with strangers.
  8. Practice good self-care – for yourself – and practice kindness and compassion – for the rest of the world.
  9. Spend your limited financial resources in your local community on goods and services made by local people, wherever/whenever you are able (or can afford) to do so.
  10. Explicitly communicate your expectations, your “wishlist”, and your “demands” or dissatisfaction to your elected representatives – even if they are not of your party or don’t share your beliefs. Do it often.
  11. Lift each other up. (There are already more than too many people and agencies out there in the world tearing people down.)

Don’t let your voice be silenced. Consider your options, and do your best to make choices that will tend to create the world you wish to see. Don’t let your fears or insecurities, or your petty biases or hostility to this or that cause or belief system cause you to become a monster that you can’t face in the mirror each morning (or, you know, don’t become a monster at all). Choose, each day, to be the person you most want to be, regardless of how vile and terrible the world around you seems to be becoming. Who you are is about you, not them. Do you – for you.

I guess the tl;dr is… don’t just bitch about the shit going on around you, make choices that are different than that, and speak truth to power. (I say that like it’s easy – it is not; it requires constant effort and practice.)

I breathe, exhale, and relax. The landscapers are already mowing this morning, likely due to the extreme heat expected later. If ICE showed up right now and started hassling those landscapers… would I take any action? Would you? It’s a worthwhile thought exercise. You should probably know what your values really are, there. What would you want of bystanders if ICE came for you? (Because, you know, at some point they may – we’re living in dark times.)

Where do you really stand in this new dark age? Here’s a test of your values and ethics that you may find interesting… a simple thought exercise. If you were offered a job (just a salaried job, no guarantees for continued employment) for millions of dollars in annual salary, with the explicit understanding that the results of your work would be directly responsible for putting thousands of people in poverty, reducing the quality of life of many millions of others, and likely result in a notable number of actual deaths…but you would be lifted out of poverty (for as long as you held that job) and live in comfort with your family, debt free with the world’s goods at your fingertips – would you take that job? I don’t need to know your answer – but you do. Are you one of the good guys, or just another self-serving asshole prepared to destroy the world so you can have a [fucking yacht, or Lamborghini, or whatever your symbol of fantastic wealth happens to be]? It’s an important question, and whether you answer it in words or not, the consequences of your actions and choices will tell the world what your values really are.

Yeesh. So grim and grounded this morning. lol I sip my coffee grateful to have a moment of time to explore thought exercises, and questions of ethics and values. The whole picture of my own adult life has not been characterized by wise ethical decision-making, or consistently living my values well. It’s been a very human journey, and when I set off down this path I not only didn’t know where it was leading me, I didn’t have a clear understanding of who is this “woman I most want to be”, in the first place. I suffered from a lack of honest self-reflection, and a lack of useful questions to light my way. Sometimes I still find myself “wandering in the dark” – and there are certainly those among us who would greatly prefer that we all “wander in the dark” without finding a sense of ourselves or understanding what we value, and what we want to see in the world. It is sometimes possible to vanquish those monsters simply by shining a light on the path.

I finish my coffee hoping to succeed in being my best self today. I’m grateful to have the opportunity to do my best on another day. It’s time to begin again…

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Categories 2024 Election, Allegories, anger, Anxiety, art and the artist, breathe, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, Logic & Reason, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5
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