Archives for posts with tag: endurance

Number 9

July 21, 2026 //
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I wrote this Saturday morning, after getting some sleep and looking back on the first day of my recent camping trip.

The work day ended on Friday in a purposeful push to finish everything and remember each commitment, each loose end. I managed it, and it felt like an achievement unlocked. My attention immediately turned to finishing loading the car and saying sweet loving goodbyes…

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

… I always forget something. This time it turned out to be batteries. Well, more accurately, when I checked my gear I failed to test my headlamp or my little camp lantern. Dumb. I’m getting ahead of myself – that discovery was later.

It was not a given that I’d find a suitable camping spot. Without exaggeration, every reservable camp site within a three hour drive from where I live was reserved, for all of the dates I had available! My next step was looking for camp grounds that are exclusively first come/first served. There turn out to be several in the big state forest north and west of my home. Okay, so it’s an adventure, and I set off eagerly.

… you’re not waiting for an “and then…” twist, are you? It was a lovely drive, and almost no traffic. I arrived when I expected to. I circled one loop, then the next. I could hear my Traveling Partner’s doubtful tone when he advised me that everything would be full. I stayed hopeful. I’d try the walk-in tent sites, and hope that they aren’t half a mile into the forest, all down hill.

I stopped at the pay kiosk and took a slip, and filled out everything but the site number and started walking. At long last, and feet already hurting, I see one that isn’t occupied! I start toward it. A frantic plump woman of a mommy age rushes past me and quickly clips her receipt to the numbered post and turns to me simultaneously challenging and somewhat embarrassed. “I already saw this, I went to get a slip is all. I was already here!” I shrug and walk on, limping a bit. I was already resigned to finding a more remote site in the disbursed camping area when I walked up on an empty site from behind. For real?! I’m almost relieved but also a little wary. I check the post. Nothing. I clip my receipt there after writing the site number on it.

So relieved. I sit down at the picnic table and drink some water.

Number 9

A woman approaches me looking frustrated and waves the white slip of her receipt, telling me in broken English that she had seen this site first and only walked away to get her receipt. I drank water, and pointed to the numbered post with my receipt clipped to it. I had read the camp rules; no reservations, first come first served, someone must be occupying the site to claim it, or their gear must be present, no holding a vacant site for someone else. I felt her frustration, I had felt it myself moments ago. I definitely prefer being able to reserve a spot.

The painfully slow process of getting my gear to the site on one foot with plantar fasciitis and the knee on the other leg being quite obnoxiously unpredictable, began with real determination. It was slow going, and before I’d made two trips I was already tired and really feeling the limitations pain places on my abilities. This is one of the exceedingly rare circumstances when I truly regret my lost youth. I definitely could have done more, better. We don’t know what we don’t know. That 27 year old powerhouse physique would come in handy right now. Hell, roll the clock back to 55, this wouldn’t be much of a challenge. Today? I find myself wondering if this may be my last solo camping trip altogether…

… Beginnings imply endings, and we are mortal creatures…

Getting my basic gear to the site took three trips. Then two more because I forgot stuff I’d definitely want tonight or first thing in the morning. Another back and forth for coffee beans, and my portable grinder. It was after all that, that I discovered neither my headlamp nor my camp light would light up. In one case, the batteries were exhausted. The other had no batteries at all. I made the trek to the parking lot again, and a trip a mile down the road to Lee’s Camp Store. I’m glad I did. My beloved sent me his love and told me he misses me, and it finally reached me. (No WiFi or connectivity in the forest.) A nice way to end the day.

Lee’s Camp Store – worth a stop anyway, and peculiarly magical.

Oh, it wasn’t actually late, I was just fucking exhausted. 😆 I knew I’d get a fresh start in the morning. For the rest of that Friday evening, I focused on getting off my feet and getting some rest. Beginnings could wait.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, 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, The Big 5, Words

Perspective on Lived Experience

July 25, 2024 //
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I walked the trail in the chill of the morning. I walked with my thoughts and my tinnitus and my pain, contemplating how easily we “understand” each other without actually being able to truly understand each other. We’re each having our own experience.

It’s pretty easy to think I understand my Traveling Partner’s pain. I have pain myself, and it is chronic and a substantial part of my experience. But, and this is important, we experience our individual pain quite alone. I can’t feel his. He can’t feel mine. Our sympathy, empathy, and compassion are built on our good intentions, our desire to be helpful and understanding, and our perspective on our own pain, which is what we know. Our lived experience may provide us with useful insights, but it may also limit our ability to truly understand.

… It’s fucking hard sometimes…

Yesterday I watched the Anxious Adventurer express understanding of my Traveling Partner’s pain – through the lens of his own ordinary aches and pains, as if the pain of a spinal injury would compare at all. I catch myself doing it, and although the pain of my persistent headache, spinal arthritis, and degenerative disk disease in my neck likely get me closer to real understanding, it’s still not the pain my partner experiences. I can’t know that, I can only guess, listen when he talks about it, and do the work of being humane and supportive and kind. It’s fucking hard sometimes, especially just accepting the fact that truly we can’t know each other’s pain.

… Pain sucks and pain management is complicated by our very broken healthcare system, in which doctors also seem to lose sight of how little they can actually “understand” a patient’s pain, beyond listening, themselves.

We’re each having our own experience. Don’t be a dick about someone else’s pain. You can’t know what they’re going through, really, and it isn’t a fucking competition. It doesn’t matter at all whose pain is “the worst”. Our own pain is always the worst we’ve ever personally experienced, and if all you’ve known is occasional sore muscles or stubbed toes, you certainly don’t know anything much about pain. Be kind. Be patient. Be compassionate. Be gentle. People are suffering and hurting. You can’t know what they don’t share, and you don’t know much even when they do.

I hurt this morning. The chill makes my bones ache. I walk on. It could be worse. I’m doing my best not to take my own pain personally. I have my own way of dealing with my pain. It’s not always effective but it’s mostly enough, most of the time; a complex assortment of practices, medication, and pure seething anger about being in pain in the first place. I push through when I can. When I can’t… I cry. Like… A lot.

… It’s hard seeing my Traveling Partner in pain. I feel so helpless…

… My own pain is barely managed day-to-day…

I sigh and keep on walking. I stop to answer angry frustrated pings from my partner, who is in pain. Pain shrinks his world. It’s most of what’s going on for him, until he has his surgery and moves on to recovery and rehabilitation. It’s a complicated journey. I wish I could do more. I try not to be a dick about his pain and the way it affects him…

There’s another work day ahead, then one more, and a day to run errands… Then I get a short (but very needed) break from caregiving and from my partner’s pain, before his surgery.

… I still have my own…

I take a few minutes to write and reflect. It’s not satisfying. My Traveling Partner is awake and pinging me and needing emotional support. This is a difficult experience and I do what I do; I push my own needs to the side to provide support. I’m irked with the Anxious Adventurer, who hasn’t figured out a morning routine that respects my partner’s need to rest. I’m annoyed in a very human way because this affects my morning experience too. This shit is hard.

… I stifle my frustration. None of this is personal…

This is an endurance race, not a sprint. I try to look at the morning through the lens of opportunity for growth… I just have to begin again…

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, 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, The Big 5

The Worst Headache Possible…

January 13, 2024 //
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…I remind myself for perspective that there are worse headaches than this one. The worst headache possible would quite likely be much worse than this. This one’s bad, though, and I didn’t sleep well with it once it developed. I woke cross and irritable and in more pain than usual, and it’s not a good place to be…but… it’s icy and stormy outside, and I’m safe and warm inside, and I guess things could be just so much worse. No bombs falling on my neighborhood, for example. No flood waters rising. No terrible plagues sweeping through the community. I’ve got this good cup of coffee, and this quiet office, and that’s saying something. I’m in a fortunate place. I just happen to also have this really awful headache competing with my arthritis pain for my attention. It’s shitty, but… it could definitely be worse.

…I sip my coffee and try my best not to be obviously irritable. My “best effort” feels incredibly inadequate, and I commit myself (again) to at least going through the motions of being a pleasant human being if I’ve got to interact with my Traveling Partner – but it’s admittedly easier to be alone in my studio, headphones on without music, avoiding the necessity of interacting until called upon for some specific act of support or care that he needs enough to ask for. Some days, I’m recognizably a fairly limited and shitty human being whose “best” is wholly inadequate for “the common good”. Still doing my best. Hoping to outlast this headache without being a shit to my partner.

My tinnitus is incredibly loud in my ears – that’s often the case if I’ve got a worse-than-usual headache. This one is complex, a combination of my brainstem “feeling like it’s on fire”, and intense aching pressure across my forehead, from temple to temple, and behind my eyes. The whole painful mess seems to begin with my neck, up high, against my skull, and deep inside – I find myself wishing it were “only” a tension headache instead; that would almost be a relief. I know my Traveling Partner worries about my headache. I’m overdue to pursue more attention on some of these physical ailments. I admit I’m frustrated to the point of learned helplessness as far as dealing with them, though. I sigh and remind myself not to catastrophize; it’s just a headache, right? It’ll pass.

I sip my coffee – it can’t be helping that I didn’t have my first sip of my first cup of coffee until almost 10:00, when I’m usually drinking coffee by 05:30. That’s one truth to be mindful of; the habits and routines that comfort and support me come with consequences, in some cases quite visceral and real consequences, when those habits or routines are broken.

My coffee tastes good. I barely notice or care. The headache is a major distraction. I feel my occipital neuralgia beginning to flare up across the left side of my face. Fucking hell, this too? Well, the coffee is soothing and welcome, and I try to force my focus back to that experience.

I peek out a window and see snow.

Snow fell during the night. It’s just a dusting, really, but the temperatures fell to well below freezing – 20 degrees at 10:00 am. I’m definitely not dragging my arthritic bones out in this. When I’m feeling less cross, it’ll be delightful to hang out and maybe watch movies or something. Maybe bake a coffee cake. The forecast suggests these cold temperatures may last until Tuesday… I take a minute for heartfelt gratitude that I am able to work from home. I often go into the office, because I can, but it’s definitely something I am grateful to have a choice about. My Traveling Partner put a lot of love and attention into my home office space, and it’s well-prepared for pretty nearly any sort of work I do, whether personal or professional, creative or billable (or both). It’s nice. I take a moment to appreciate the self-love and attentive self-care that have gone into this, too. I didn’t get here without me, any more than I got here without my partner. 🙂

…Good coffee…

How to begin again…?

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Categories Allegories, anhedonia, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, health, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, winter

Deal With It

May 7, 2023 //
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I watched a couple videos recently that “spoke to me”. One is a child coaching her Mom about treating people well – it’s a study in emotional intelligence. The other is a favorite content creator’s take on the way so many people make themselves miserable. I liked each of these for different reasons, but they both really resonated with me in some way, and I am sharing them with you – maybe you’ll find something of value in these, too? 🙂

I am sipping my coffee on a chilly Sunday morning in Spring. The weather looks nice. It was pleasant yesterday, too. My Traveling Partner and I hung out most of yesterday, talking over his gear as he packs for a trip away. I am simultaneously looking forward to a few days home alone, and also dreading the first moment my heart and soul realize he isn’t right here. lol I know I want (and need) the alone time, but… I will still miss him like crazy a lot. I’m not really looking forward to missing him; that bit hurts more than a little bit. I’ll be okay though – I’ll deal with it.

Sometimes the only thing we can do with or about a challenge in life is… deal with it. Cope. Accept something unpleasant or unavoidable. Change something within my power to make a change. Let it pass. Move along. Walk on. Breathe. Take action. Understand that results will likely vary. Demonstrate endurance and resilience. Adapt.

I sip my coffee and think my thoughts. Honestly, we could use a few days to miss each other – super helpful now and then, simply having the chance to reflect on the absence of someone dear, and be reminded how much we value their companionship, their humor, their touch, or other specific details that characterize our experience together.

I woke after a restless night. My Traveling Partner woke me a couple times during the night to ask me to roll over or change position. My snoring must have been pretty bad. I woke feeling relatively well-rested. I must have been clumsy and bumbling about making a racket in spite of myself; he woke shortly after I did, annoyed and not feeling well-rested at all. I made coffee for both of us, and made haste to the studio, to give him a chance to wake up and sort himself out without interference from me. Soon enough we’ll both forget these sorts of moments while we are missing each other and other sorts of moments we spend together. I’m grateful he’s thought of so many little things to make the time apart as low stress as possible. I smile, sip my coffee, and think nice thoughts at this human being I love so well, sipping his coffee in the other room on a chilly Spring morning.

…Camping season (for me) already…? It’s definitely feeling that way. The nights are warmer. The days are longer. The gear is ready. My partner is taking the truck for some solo camping this week. We’ve got a camping trip together planned for my birthday. I’m excited about that. 60 this year. It’s been 10 years of Evening Light. (Wow!) That’s worth celebrating. 😀

Another sip of this very good cup of coffee, and I start thinking about the day ahead. Sunday. Housekeeping mostly, I guess, and getting ready for the week ahead. I’ll have some alone time, but it’s also a work week. No point going to the co-work space; I’ll work from home this week. I’m looking forward to that too. Sunday is still laundry day, and grocery shopping if any needs to be done, and dishes, and taking out trash and recycling… routine household chores. Good day for it. I’ll get out into the garden for a while, too, I suppose. A merry and ordinary Sunday ahead…

…I suppose there’s nothing left to do but begin again…

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, Spring