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Taking It As It Comes

August 1, 2025 //
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Pretty morning. Mild. Quiet. I got to the trailhead ahead of the sunrise.

Perspective on a new day

I walked the trail in solitude, enjoying it greatly. Nice morning for it. Seems like I’ve got it all to myself today. I get to a convenient stopping point, about halfway, more or less. An imprecise measure, but in this case accuracy isn’t a requirement. I sit watching the sky change colors as the sun rises. I see headlights sweep across the vineyard that covers the distance between this part of the trail and the oaks and the parking lot beyond. Farm workers arriving for the work day. This is no wilderness trail. It’s well-maintained and reliably walkable in almost any weather, and conveniently located when I work from home. Nothing fancy, but it is safe and familiar, and I enjoy the walk. It’s enough.

In just two days my feet will walk other trails, new to me. I’m excited about it. My thoughts are filled with camping gear and trail maps, and fresh coffee at sunrise. I’ve got my site reserved, and all that’s left is to pack my gear and go. Well, that and the final details about glamping or camping… Carry more gear? Pack fewer options? Take this? Take that? The most difficult bit of planning is keeping my enthusiasm in check and planning based on my capabilities and limitations, not just my daydreams and wishful thinking!

I think about the drive out… I’ve deliberately planned a slower far more scenic route (no freeways, no major highways) through farm country. The journey is the destination and the entire point is the time spent with my thoughts seeing things from a new perspective. I definitely don’t want stress related to the drive itself to be any notable part of the experience. 😂

… Looking forward to this break from the routine…

I sigh to myself. The sun is up. I shield my eyes and look to the east, back the way I came. Lovely morning. Already time to begin again.

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

Here. Now.

June 15, 2025 //
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I’m relaxing on a sunny hillside, looking out across the trees, to distant hills on the horizon. It looks much closer than it is. The breeze is cool on my face, the sunshine is warm on my back. The sound of laughter mingles with birdsong.

Here. Now.

For the moment I am relaxing at the day use area of this State Park where I’m camping – I can’t move into my campsite until a little later, but getting here early gave me the time and opportunity to switch up my campsite with one more suited to my limitations. Realistically, I wasn’t going to be easily able to hike my gear down to the more remote site I had booked, but it wasn’t obvious until I got here and looked at the trail conditions while I stood on my aching ankle.

The day use area is somewhat crowded. It’s a gorgeous day for picnics, bike rides, barbecues, and outings with family. It’s also a gorgeous day for solitude, but that’ll have to wait another hour. I get a short hike in on a pretty forest trail, and enjoy the views, before returning to the car to sip an iced coffee and wait for check in time.

Meadow flowers. The same flowers, when spotted in my garden, are weeds. Perspective.

It’s quite a bit later, now. About three hours later, and well into the afternoon, with several more hours of summer sunshine before nightfall comes. My camp is set up. It’s a very sunny camp site, and my tent is set up in the one corner with some afternoon shade. I swap my hiking boots for “camp sandals”, after applying Deet to exposed skin to minimize bug bites. I wet a handy compressed paper wash cloth/towel thing with ice water and wipe the sweat off my face and neck, which feels refreshing. I crack open a cold bottle of water and add a hydration mix to it. It’s time to relax for a little while, and get settled. Somewhere far away, sirens wail. The world is out there, somewhere, but for now I am here not dealing with any of that mess, just sitting here at the edge of the sunshine, listening to birdsong and breezes.

I smile thinking about the short conversation with my Traveling Partner, as I got my camp set up. He misses me. I miss him too, and it’s nice that we can say as much without any awkwardness or fussing over me taking this time. I do miss his face, though, and I cherish the words and cute “stickers” we share back and forth. I feel loved.

A tiny spider drops onto my shirt from somewhere and I jump up startled, swatting it away. Well shit, that was good for a bit of excitement. lol I breathe, exhale, and relax. I sit in the shade drinking my water and watching new campers arriving. I’m glad I’m already set up. It’s hotter now (but not actually hot), and somewhere nearby a small dog is yapping. I could do without the yapping dog…

Butterflies, birdsong, and breezes.

…Still, it’s quite a lovely moment, and I quickly forget about the yapping dog, lost in the moment, feeling the silky caress of the breeze, scented with meadow flowers (and Deet). These moments are so fleeting.  I sigh contentedly, sitting in the sunshine with my thoughts.

Eventually, I’ll begin again… What then? There are so many paths to choose from…

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

The What and The Where

June 14, 2025 //
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I spent my walk this morning mostly thinking about my upcoming camping trip, packing the car in my head. Take this? Take that? What about this piece of gear instead of that one? Can I carry all of this down the trail to my campsite? How many trips will it take to make that work?

… My reserved site is 1/2 mile from the parking. lol I’m 62, not as fit as I’d like to be, and I’ve got some mobility limitations that will require me to walk the trail with my cane in one hand, reducing the amount of gear I can realistically carry in any single trip down that trail reliably…

It’s like an elaborate puzzle every time I camp. New location, new site, new scenario. I noticed my face hurting as I walked with my thoughts. It hurt from smiling so hard. I look forward to the planning puzzle almost as much as I look forward to the actual camping. 😂

The cloudy cool morning reminds me to pack a cold weather layer in case of cooler than forecasted weather.

I go over my list in my head again, testing my memory for the details and trying to catch myself overlooking an important piece of gear. I laugh off items I have reliably packed in the past, and reliably never needed. As the years wear on, I am more mindful of my physical limitations and inclined to pack with greater care, and also to avoid over-packing; I don’t need to bring what I know I can’t carry.

… Knowledge is having a detailed awareness of the gear available to me. Wisdom is not taking a heavy solar powered refrigerator on a trip that requires a long walk to the campsite. 😆 …

I’m not sharing these thoughts because you need them for a camping trip. It’s more that the basic “lessons” apply to other situations that are similar in some way. There’s a metaphor buried in this casual sharing. Real life can get really real, and being prepared is helpful. Being over prepared potentially not so much, it could just be more to carry, and a waste of resources or intention. How we visualize upcoming events can be a helpful means of preparing, or an impediment that sets us up for failure by inflating our sense of capacity and ability, or by blowing our anxiety and our concerns out of proportion to the anticipated events. I try to be realistic, but also very positive and encouraging. I think of favorite anime characters overcoming great obstacles and growing stronger and seek to do so myself on a somewhat smaller (less fantastical) scale in my own life.

I grin to myself as I change my boots for soft shoes after my walk. Comfort matters, too. Reality is not what we remember, nor what we imagine; it is what it is. I laugh at myself; however skillful my planning and preparation for a camping trip is, I nearly always forget something. All this planning ideally results in whatever I end up forgetting having very little importance. 😂 That’s a great outcome! I went out once having forgotten my bee sting kit (and there were bees) and my coffee (and omg are you fucking kidding me??) and ended my trip early over it. No coffee?! No camping. Non-negotiable, I know my limits. LOL

I look out across the meadow. Nice morning. I look over my shopping list, inhale, exhale, and relax, sighing deeply. Contentment feels good. Still, the clock is ticking, and it’s time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, joy, Logic & Reason, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Practices, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being

What Do I Even Know About It?

June 13, 2025 //
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I’m sipping my coffee in that pleasant space between finishing the budgeting for this pay period and digging into the work of the day. There’s a cloudy sky beyond the window of the office, and the morning termperatures are cooler than they have been – of course; I’ve got a camping trip planned, so obviously the weather will turn chilly and possibly rainy. LOL

A moment of celebration, love, and delight; delicious, and worth savoring.

I smile every time I think about my birthday. What a lovely day, and in every regard thoroughly satisfying. Oh sure, more money/youthful energy/time perhaps it could have been more elaborate in some way, or involved other activities, but frankly the day’s simplicity and very high “chill factor” made for a completely delightful experience that met my needs. I feel loved and appreciated and celebrated. It’s a pleasant feeling, and I sit with the recollections, savoring them and sipping my coffee. 62, eh? So far, so good. I certainly feel more prepared to handle adult life and challenges than I did at 21. Or… 30, 40, 45, 50… I am, as they say, “a work in progress”. The profound value of incremental change over time is that it is a reliable path forward toward other (better?) things. I am more the woman I most want to be than I was in any prior year, and I keep making progress as a human being, learning and growing – and practicing.

I’ve learned some things over time, and I’ll share them (though I suspect we’ve all got to learn things our own way, and walk our own hard mile, regardless how much wisdom or knowledge may be available at our fingertips). I’ve learned that:

  • there is no rational justification for genocide, ever.
  • governments wage war because war is profitable.
  • human beings will persist in confusing anecdotes with data and can be easily mislead.
  • some people prefer to bitch about crap they could easily change rather than do the work to change it.
  • it is possible to find joy amidst chaos and tragedy.
  • change is, and although it can’t be prevented or avoided, it can be embraced and guided.
  • terrible hateful people walk among us, and they look like everyone else.
  • it’s very hard to be angry and grateful at the same time.
  • we can each choose our own path.
  • there’s always more work to do, and it is important to take breaks, and rest.
  • no one “makes it” on their own.
  • we can choose what we fill our thoughts with.
  • character and ethics matter, a lot.
  • if your only argument is name-calling or personal attacks, you have lost that argument (whether you accept that or not).
  • when “choosing sides” it is important to be clear about what the side you choose actually stands for.
  • critical thinking takes more work than most people are willing to do.
  • most of the things in life we stress out over aren’t actually worth that amount of emotional energy.
  • sometimes the “easiest” path requires the most work.
  • we become what we practice.

It’s not much. Certainly I’ve learned more, other, things – or – maybe I haven’t? Sometimes some lesson I thought I’d learned comes back to bite me because I had not truly put what I thought I learned into practice, reliably. Words are easy. Deeds…? That gets more complicated, doesn’t it? I feel my smile take a somewhat cynical twist, and sip my coffee. Life is a strange journey without a map, toward a destination we don’t necessarily choose with our eyes open (or recognize when we approach it). It’s a bit like seeing a funhouse mirror suddenly snap into a very clear focused reflection when I find myself very clear on some detail that had previously eluded me. My results often vary, and there are so many verbs involved…

The site I reserved for my upcoming camping trip, from the perspective of a moment in time 10 years ago.

It hits me in a moment what I really want out of my camping trip next week; time with my thoughts. I don’t really feel inspired to paint (yet), or even to take photographs (though I know I will). I want quiet solitary time with my thoughts, and a pen and some paper. lol Very low-tech, no fancy techniques, tools, or apps required; I want to walk trails, and watch clouds, and meditate. I want to breathe the Spring-becoming-Summer air, and take a closer look at the moss, the lichen, and the wildflowers. I want to sit quietly watching a braver than average small creature approaching me slowly with curiosity. I want to feel the weight of the world lifted from my shoulders because for a little while it will have nothing whatsoever to do with me. I want to “give my soul a rest” from the chaos of the world. I want to miss my Traveling Partner, because through missing him I discover again how deeply immersed in this love I really am. I want to unplug from the rest of the world and reconnect with my own deepest inner self. I sip my coffee and laugh to myself – seems clear enough. Now I’ve just got to do the verbs. lol

The clock ticks on. 62 now, and for the next 364 days to come. I hope I make good use of my time. I hope I live well and wisely, and love deeply. It’s time to get started on another year of living. It’s time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, art and the artist, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, joy, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Spring, Summer, The Art of Being, turning 60

Turn That Noise Down!!

June 10, 2025 //
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My tinnitus is loud this morning. Distracting and annoying. I get my walk started early, close to home, but the sunrise had already begun. The sky is shades of orange, pink and dusty blue, and the western hills in the distance are soft shades of blue and gray. Feels like another hot summer day ahead, maybe not as hot as the past couple of days have been. Hot enough to feel like summer, and even the cooler morning temperature hints at the afternoon heat to come.

Sunrise, a new day, a new beginning, a new opportunity to choose.

I walked with my thoughts accompanied by assorted little birds hopping and flying along. Chickadees mostly, and robins;  though I hear the songs of other birds I don’t see them. A small herd of deer bolts into the trees when they hear me approach. The lovely morning might have a certain sparkling Disney sort of vibe if it weren’t for the sound of traffic nearby, and my damned tinnitus ringing and buzzing in my ears. Still, it’s a pretty morning, suitable for all manner of beginnings, and I’m grateful to see another sunrise.

I spot a woodpecker on the trunk of an oak tree, in that instance before he begins drumming away at that bark, either communicating or seeking a tasty morsel. He’s loud too. I laugh and startle him, he flies off to a different tree. I keep walking, until I reach my turn around point, where I stop awhile.

I sit in the early morning shade of the trees along the creek, smelling the scents of Spring flowers. The sun continues to rise on the new day. I think about doing a couple days of camping next week while I’m off, and maybe some painting. I make some room for my mixed feelings. I very much want my time to be wholly my own while I am painting, but I also experience strange pangs of separation anxiety when I contemplate it. That’s odd for me. I don’t really look forward to sleeping on the ground, getting up is more difficult every year. On the other hand, I’m yearning to sit quietly, gazing into the trees without being aware there are dishes to do, or errands to run, for endless seeming unmeasured minutes. I don’t expect to sort myself out on one morning walk. I sigh to myself and let my thoughts move on.

… G’damn my tinnitus is annoying…

Camera or pastels? Camping light, or glamping? A remote site that requires a bit of a trek to reach, or car camping with amenities? Well equipped camp kitchen and outdoor cooking, or freeze dried hiking meals that require little prep or clean up? Effort or ease? What do I really want for (and from) myself with my time? I watch the sun rise and think about it. I’ve got all the gear and most of the needed supplies whatever options I choose. It’s the choosing that is so difficult; it requires a level of frankness with myself about my current needs and limitations that feels mildly uncomfortable. I sigh quietly. There’s time to consider the options.

I get to my feet and turn to face the sun. It’s time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, art and the artist, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Practices, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being
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