Archives for posts with tag: do your best
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Ring, Zing, Buzz

March 24, 2024 //
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I’m waiting for the sun on a Sunday morning. The forecast is for rain, but it isn’t raining here, now. Across the highway, and further still across some fields, suburban lights glitter low on the horizon. This is no wilderness, although the trail I’ll walk feels at least a bit remote, down along the Tualatin river. Daybreak is approaching. Soon. In the meantime, I sit with my thoughts, listening to passing cars and the ring, zing, buzz of my tinnitus. It’s a quiet morning and at least for now, my tinnitus is the loudest thing I hear.

Daybreak on a cloudy morning.

A break in the clouds reveals the blue of the morning sky. Daybreak is not helpful for walking, this morning. Anyway, I am still waiting for the park gate to open. The lower marsh trail I can reach from this parking space just outside the park is seasonal, and off limits until May. Frankly, some mornings (many), it’s tempting to walk the seasonal trail anyway, although it is off limits this time of year, but doing so would come with additional risks; it’s a lowland trail along the edges of the marsh, often muddy and sometimes flooded in spots. It would be just a bit more stupid to walk it in near darkness than I prefer to be. Also, these sorts of community spaces rely on people following the rules in place to protect them (both the spaces and the people using them), to maintain their beauty for years to come and new generations.

… So, I wait…

Waiting, watching, being.

I sit with my thoughts, enjoying the stillness. It’s a mild Spring morning and a good one for walking. The cloudy sky hints at rain. I’m glad I spent time in the garden yesterday. Between the gardening and the weather, it definitely feels like Spring here. I’m grateful for the change of seasons. Another new beginning.

I feel a poignant sorrow that my recently deceased dear friend missed the coming of Spring. No tears. I have the sense that she “chose her time”, and I can only honor her memory and respect her choice. I’m okay; we are mortal creatures. I’m fortunate to have shared so much time with her.

It’s time to begin again.

The park gate opens with a quiet “clang”. There’s enough light to see the trail. The day and this walk are ahead of me, and that seems like a worthwhile direction to go…

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Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, grief, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, turning 60, women

How the Sausage is Made

March 16, 2024 //
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It’s still dark here at the trailhead where I am waiting for daybreak. It’s a pleasantly mild morning and expected to be a warm sunny day. I’d hoped to sleep in, but woke at my usual early hour, and did my best to slip away quietly so my Traveling Partner could get the rest he needs, too. So here I am, thinking about life and waiting for the sun.

I watched an excellent perspective piece on YouTube last night with my Traveling Partner, discussing what makes a “good life”, and what a life well-lived consists of, generally. That’s an utterly inadequate summary. It sort of describes “how the sausage is made” with regard to all the media crap we cram into our brains that tell us we could or should do more or live differently. You could just watch it. I found it a worthwhile way to spend 11 minutes. Inspiring in a wholesome way. I don’t think I could have said it better.

Daybreak comes. Mt Hood is backlit by a broad strip of a relatively bold orange. It’s a lovely morning to be on the trail early, alone with my thoughts. Time to wrap this up and get going…

Is this a “boring” life because I don’t travel to exotic destinations or do amazing adventurous things? No. It’s a quiet life built on contentment and sufficiency, doing things I truly enjoy, and spending time with people I have real fondness for. It’s not only not boring, it’s very much the life I have been working towards for so long. 🙂

… And it’s time to hit the trail and begin again.

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

Driving Lessons

February 21, 2024 //
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I’m contemplating the day ahead, and the commute behind me, and considering the things I’ve learned while driving. I mean, there are really some useful lessons that can be applied in a more general way, too.

  1. You can only go as fast as the traffic ahead of you is going.
  2. Driving conditions vary.
  3. Letting anger control your behavior does not contribute positively to the outcome.
  4. Other people’s behavior is not about you at all. Stop taking that shit personally, but also don’t be a dick.
  5. Open road ahead feels like “freedom”.
  6. Self-care matters; taking a break from stress is helpful.
  7. Until you “get there”, the journey matters more than the destination.

Things I’m thinking about as I start my day. Figured I’d share. 😀

If the stress is getting to you, in life or while commuting, stop and take a break! You’ll thank yourself.
Driving conditions vary.
Traffic sucks. Do your best. Breathe.
Most of the misery you experience is something you create for yourself. You can choose differently. Your results will vary.

I sip my tea and consider this; people who will “cheat” the traffic rules to get ahead in traffic are likely to be the same people who cheat in life, in various minor and major ways. More to think about. Who do you want most to be? I direct the question to the woman in the mirror, and begin again.

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Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, Healthy Living, inspiration, Metaphors, Parables, Perspective, Practices, The Art of Being, The Big 5

Playing Catch Up

February 5, 2024 //
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My commute into the city this morning was pleasant and uneventful. I got gas. Got coffee. Arrived at the office a bit early – and that proved to have real value, since I’d managed to forget to slip my office fob and key into my coat pocket on my way out of the house! I didn’t lose my head over it – it wasn’t even a particularly stressful moment; I had the presence of mind to think to check with the building concierge and was able to check out a key and fob temporarily, to let myself in. (Being first on site has its downsides. lol) Turned out to be just as unremarkable as it sounds.

I sat down to my computer and skimmed my email, and Slack notifications, and answered the most time-sensitive items straight away, then went to make coffee – only to discover that the weekend cleaning crew had jammed the door on the coffee machine, so… no fancy machine-made coffee this morning. I’m drinking instant. LOL I’m not too proud for that, and hey, it reminds me how fortunate I truly am, so I sip my instant coffee quite contentedly as I catch up on emails and whatnot that piled up over the days I was out of the office. Easy. Routine. Within minutes I’m sufficiently caught up for the day to feel like an absolutely ordinary Monday. Win.

It’s hard to measure the impact of anxiety on a day that begins with “catching up” after being out of the office. I can remember a time when my unmanaged anxiety would have had me spun up before I ever sat down to look over my email, and prone to reactively responding without thoroughly reviewing whole threads to see what had already been well-supported, eventually spending some notable portion of an entire week aggressively pounding out replies to things via email that might have been better handled (and more skillfully) after a moment of real consideration, and maybe a pause to reflect, instead of churning out new replies to haphazard earlier replies, and breathlessly dashing from meeting to meeting feeling like I was on the edge of losing my mind. That’s no way to live (or work), and certainly tends to undermine any restorative restful recreational hours that had preceded the shitstorm of “catching up”. It can be done more gently, and with greater presence and thoughtfulness. 😀 So… that’s what I do now. lol

It took me about an hour to fully catch up from taking a long weekend. Not too bad. I end the hour with a thorough understanding of what I missed while I was out, and what new action items are on my plate. My time is planned. My work feels supported. I know where I need to put my attention, now. This feels pretty comfortable.

…And all that in an hour after a long weekend…

The weekend was lovely and restful. The homecoming was comfortable, and warm, and welcoming, and I feel very loved (I hope my Traveling Partner does, too). I’m looking forward to ending the work day and maybe cooking up a stir fry after work, or some other properly home-cooked healthy meal. I feel refreshed and restored, and full of energy (at least for now, at the start of the work day). I sip my coffee and smile, hoping my Traveling Partner is getting the rest he needs.

The sun rises on a gray rainy day. The sky lightens to a soft featureless pale gray, and rain spatters the office windows. “Nothing to see here.” I think to myself. I sigh and think back to the sea breezes and waves, and the gulls floating on the air currents just beyond the balcony. It already seems “so long ago”. I laugh at my mortal foolishness, and begin again.

The sun setting on a lovely day.
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Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Practices, The Art of Being, winter

Sure I Have Regrets

January 17, 2024 //
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I woke up early after a short restless night of shitty sleep. I’m stuck at home because everything local is covered in ice. My Traveling Partner was already awake, and obviously not happy about that, tired, cross, and earnestly wanting very much to sleep. I said good morning, and as little else as was possible without being rude and slipped away to my office committed to being as quiet as I could so he could maybe sleep.

…My keyboard is too loud for this shit, and I find that regrettable. I briefly shop for a quieter one, then move on to catching up on work notes…

I sip my coffee, typing super gently and with great care, trying to be quiet enough that a sleeping person in the adjacent room would be undisturbed. I doubt that I am successful, and I am painfully aware of how noisy this mechanical keyboard I like so much actually is. Shit.

…It’s very hard to write in a digital space without hitting keys on a keyboard of some kind. I chose poorly for this environment…

If a human being could arrive at death’s door with no more serious regret than a poor choice of keyboard in a home office adjacent to a bedroom, that would indeed be an amazing thing. I do have more serious regrets, and I suspect that most people who proclaim they “have no regrets” either wholly lack compassion, or are not considering the question deeply. Just an opinion, based on having once been one of those people (and it was a bit of the one, and a lot of the other).

  • I regret the times I have hurt people, emotionally or physically.
  • I regret rushing into marriage at 18 (frankly it nearly killed me).
  • I regret not leaving that relationship sooner.
  • I regret not getting the help I needed when I first understood my mental health was at risk.
  • I regret how difficult it has been to overcome some of my TBI and PTSD related challenges and the way that has affected my relationships.
  • I regret that I can be such a bitch sometimes.
  • I regret a great many of my foolish decisions.
  • I regret not setting better boundaries earlier in life.
  • I regret that I’ve ever made my happiness someone else’s problem.

Big and small, regrets come in many sizes and an endless variety. Choose your adventure. Choose with care and with your eyes on your values, and perhaps you’ll have fewer regrets? Less to regret seems like a good goal… But, we’re all human, and our cognitive biases alone are enough to ensure sooner or later, we’ll have done something, said something, or been part of something we later find regrettable. That’s okay, though, isn’t it – if we learn from it, and grow to become more the person we want to be?

This coffee is almost gone. It’s time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, meditation, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, The Art of Being, The Big 5, turning 60, War and News of War, winter, Words
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