Archives for posts with tag: do your best

Rested and Eager

July 2, 2026 //

I woke gently after a good night of deep sleep. I woke surprised to be awake, and surprised that it was only minutes until my alarm would have brightened the room. I got up quietly, hoping to avoid waking my Traveling Partner, and slipped out of the house and watered the lawn before I headed for the trail.

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

A new day, full of promise and opportunity. Don’t waste it

It’s a chilly morning. I walk down the trail marveling at the vapor of my breath, like a child, and watching the sun illuminating the oaks as it rises. The sky is a beautiful blue, clear and cloudless. I walk with my thoughts. I’m eager for the long weekend ahead. Eager to paint and feeling deeply inspired. My eagerness to paint competes with my eagerness to fly my new drone, although I chuckle to myself every time I think about my drone, because I also think about South Park, season 18, episode 5, “The Magic Bush” (a hilarious and rude cautionary tale about drones and “drone hobby enthusiasts”).

I grin happily as I walk on. My very first drone is cute, and rested so lightly in my hand after I unboxed it and inspected it with care. It arrived rather late in the evening last night, and even if it had been all charged up, I was already too tired to take it out for a flight. Today is soon enough. I’m pretty good at waiting. 😆 I satisfied myself in the moment with the excitement of its arrival and busied myself with charging the batteries and the controller.

…New experiences slow that ticking clock…

I reach my halfway point and stop awhile. I breathe, exhale, and relax, and enjoy a solitary moment on a peaceful summer morning. I’m looking forward to some studio time this weekend. I’m looking forward to hanging out with my partner. I sit in the morning sunshine feeling grateful and anticipating a pleasant long weekend.

I don’t much care that this particular long weekend is thanks to the 4th of July holiday being observed on Friday the 3rd. Trump and his clown car of corrupt cronies and billionaire sycophants have largely ruined the holiday with their grotesque (and extraordinarily unsuccessful) partisan spectacle of wasted taxpayer dollars. I have no interest in celebrating the walking obscenity that we elected to office, I’m just hoping we manage to salvage our democracy from the wreckage when he’s gone. Still… I do enjoy a long weekend. There’s that.

I sigh to myself and shiver a bit. I should have grabbed my fleece, I think to myself. The sun is warm on my back. The contrast makes my nerves tingle. I check the flight map on my device… Would I be able to fly here? I’m delighted to see that I would be cleared to fly here. (I’ve always wanted to see what is beyond the trees on the far side of the vineyard.)

I sit with my thoughts, composing the view as if to paint it. It’s a pretty scene. I feel relaxed and unbothered, grateful for the lovely moment. It’s a promising beginning to the day. I stretch and sigh when I notice the time. Already time to finish this hike and begin again.

Tags be here now, be safe, begin again, choose wisely, choose your adventure, do your best, drone hobby enthusiast, droning on, go outside, read the manual, results may vary, self-care, solitude, South Park season 18 episode 5, try new things, watch where you fly that thing

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

Another Early Morning

June 24, 2026 //

… Like, stupid early, and here I am awake, with an unfortunate “go f* yourself” feeling at the moment. It’ll pass. I’m just awake ridiculously early. Too early to get coffee, not too early to walk in the dark moodily, vexed by the circumstances.

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

It’s still dark when I reach my halfway point and stop. It looks like a winter morning, but it’s pleasantly mild (15C/60F). Daybreak soon. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I definitely need the calming, self-soothing benefits of meditation this morning, after being abruptly startled awake by my Traveling Partner yelling, rhetorically, “Why can’t I just sleep?!” or something very like that. I don’t have an answer for him.

I sit with my thoughts, and this slice of peace here in the darkness.

Eventually, the night sky takes on a hint of deep blue. To the east, I see a streak of lighter blue, hinting at the sunrise to come. A new day.

In spite of yesterday’s fatigue, after struggling to find restful sleep (after being awakened in the wee hours), the day went well enough. I called it a night a little early and slept restfully. This morning’s unfortunately stressful start at least begins my day with enough sleep. Work itself should be routine. I scrounge around the groggy corners of my mind trying to recall things I may have committed to doing in addition to work, hoping to avoid forgetting something I’ve been asked to do. I’d like today to be a good one.

I stretch and yawn and watch the eastern horizon change colors. I wonder what the day holds? I answer pings from my partner. I think about coffee.

… I think about beginning again.

Tags ACT, be here now, begin again, breathe exhale relax, CBT, choose wisely, do your best, don't wake the baby, fighting symptoms, fuck this shit, impermanence, let a bitch sleep damn, meditation, non attachment, options, ptsd, quiet hours, results may vary, self-care, this too will pass, waking to panic

Categories anger, Anxiety, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being, Words

Friction and Pressure

June 20, 2026 //

Sometimes life feels pretty easy. Some other times, not so much. I could probably stop right there, it is a complete thought.

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

I start down the marsh trail leaning more heavily on my cane than on most mornings. Pain. It is what it is. It is mostly managed. The path ahead appears deserted, but the handful of cars in the parking lot when I arrived tell a different story. I don’t much feel like seeing or talking with people – strangers or otherwise. The stormy looking sky suits my mood and the pain I’m in.

Sometimes the path ahead is not obvious.

I walk with my thoughts until I get to my usual halfway point on this trail. There are photographers set up there. Birdwatchers, probably. I didn’t ask, I just walked on. I give a casual wave to someone who waved at me. No one speaks; I don’t want to have conversation, and they don’t want to disturb the wildlife.

I woke too early. I woke already in pain. I’m not saying so to complain about it, it’s just an observation and a potential explanation for my shitty mood this morning. I don’t plan to let either the pain or my dark mood take over my day, although it isn’t always easy (or reliably successful) to change course. Emotions are complicated. For now, this is the experience I’m having. “The way out is through,” I remind myself, and I keep walking.

“Emotion and Reason” 18″ x 24″ acrylic on canvas w/ceramic and glow. 2012

I get to a fork in the path. There’s a convenient rock to sit on, and I am alone. I reflect on paths and journeys, on beginnings and endings, and on how difficult uncertainty makes decisions. I sigh to myself and sit with my thoughts awhile. I ignore the silent tears that well up and slide down my cheeks. A brief moment of sunshine doesn’t last, and the morning returns to shades of gray.

I write for some little while, without ever nearing any sort of useful conclusion. My thoughts are mostly my own, this morning. I breathe, exhale, and relax. Every time my mind begins to sink into meditation, the tears begin, slow and steady. I know this is probably telling me something, but I’m less certain I want to deal with whatever emotional mess is percolating up from within. I let it go, and let it go again. It is a new day, and I’ve got options. I sigh quietly. “Choose wisely,” I remind myself. The menu of the Strange Diner is vast. I don’t have to stay in the mire.

I start to feel stiff as I sit here. No wise woman on a mountain to consult with, only a mirror, and a moment, a woman, and a path. I get to my feet feeling cross about pain and mortality. I turn and look down the path. I can’t see beyond the next bend, and reluctantly I begin again.

Tags ACT, apologize, be here now, be impeccable with your words, begin again, CBT, change is, chaos and damage, choose wisely, Clean Up Your Mess, do your best, don't drink poison, doom spiral, emotion and reason, feelings and behavior, I have options, mired, results may vary, the Strange Diner, what the actual fuck is even going on?

Categories Allegories, anger, anhedonia, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, forgiveness, Free Will, grief, health, loneliness, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being, women, Words

Zoom Out

June 18, 2026 //

The morning begins gently, if a bit earlier than I’d hoped. I dress, water the lawn, and head to the trailhead.

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

I started down the trail as the sunrise began, walking towards the west, counterclockwise on the loop that circles the vineyard. I walk with my thoughts, still processing an epiphany I brought back with me from my coastal getaway. Something to do with time management and presence and meeting my need for solitude and creative time “on the cheap” and more reliably (and without having to upend my routine every time I need to catch a breath or practice self-care more skillfully). I am grateful for the opportunity to “reset” my understanding of my Traveling Partner’s improved capabilities, too. I feel more easily able to simply enjoy him as he is, without constantly working to anticipate (or soothe) every need and every circumstance. It feels good to be able to focus on what I also need, again.

My self-care “stall points” are pretty commonplace I suppose. I enjoy my beloved’s companionship greatly, and I am easily tempted into doing nothing at all aside from enjoying his company, which definitely prevents me from getting things done. I often attempt to counter this by jumping to immediately handle any task mentioned to me, to avoid forgetting it. The result is that I am constantly spinning from distraction to distraction without making room for what I need for myself, to be well and to thrive. It’s a puzzle. Stepping away and considering my life while a bit removed from it gave me a new perspective from which to compare, contrast, and evaluate. Useful time spent on self-reflection.

I reflect on my thoughts about better self-care, and being a better partner from the vantage point of my halfway point on this familiar trail. These aren’t new thoughts, not entirely, it’s more that they have resurfaced and gained my attention at a moment when I can give them deeper consideration. Useful.

I’ve decided to add two practices to my day-to-day routine, and resurrect another that I had dropped when life was too full with caregiving. The two new practices are rather simple and mostly about time management: firstly, I’ll take 15-20 minutes after work each day for solitude, (just sitting quietly and allowing my mental buffer time enough to clear out anything still queued up at the end of the day would allow me to feel more easily able to be fully present with my partner) and secondly, I’m going to begin committing two hours on the weekends for studio art. I’ll take the time from time I often spend just chilling on the couch with no purpose in mind and which could be better spent – and giving up a portion of the weekend to artistic endeavors sounds very nurturing, to me.

As far as a practice that got dropped being resurrected, I’m going to get back to practicing yoga. Healthy movement has lasting value and I definitely spend too much time just sitting. 😆 I can begin slowly and work around my injuries gently. It’ll be good for me. (And hey, better fitness will likely mean better sex, too! Win!)

I watch the trees become filled with light. The sun has crested the horizon and it is a new day. I have a new opportunity to begin again.

Tags be here now, be present, begin again, breathe exhale relax, chronic fatigue, chronic pain, do your best, don't make assumptions, Don't take things personally, impermanence, non attachment, one step at a time, perspective, practicing the practices, results may vary, self-care, self-reflection, speak gently, steps on a path, sufficiency, walking my own mile, we become what we practice

Categories Allegories, art and the artist, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Spring, Summer, The Art of Being, weight loss secrets, women, Words

Good-Bye and Hello

June 13, 2026 //

It is a new day. My birthday is behind me, and a new year waits ahead of me.

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

A robin greets the day as I water the garden.

I get to the more distant trailhead for the marsh trail that travels past the Tualatin River. Yesterday was the trail at Spring Valley. Tomorrow the trail at Basket Slough. After that, a couple days of painting on the coast. What an extraordinary birthday celebration. I love how much it has been more about presence and experiences than presents. I didn’t go without gifts, happily, and I’ve got quite a delightful stack of new books to read.

63 was a good year, generally speaking. I wonder what awaits me in the year ahead?

I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s a beautiful morning. The clock is ticking. It’s time to begin again.

Tags ACT, be here now, beating level 63, begin again, being and becoming, CBT, choose wisely, do the verbs, do your best, enjoy the moment, impermanence, level 64, meditation, mindfulness, moments are fleeting, non attachment, read a book, results may vary, self-care, the clock is ticking, upgrade your software, use only as directed, walk on, we become what we practice, where does this path lead?

Categories Allegories, art and the artist, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, inspiration, joy, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, turning 60, women, Words

Rested and Eager

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Another Early Morning

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Friction and Pressure

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Zoom Out

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Good-Bye and Hello

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