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I got home from work yesterday, grateful to have survived humanity through one more commute. Fuck, there are a lot of stupid people “out there”… Each homecoming at the end of a work day in the office feels worth celebrating.

Carrots from the garden

I began the evening by picking some carrots from the garden to roast for dinner. They’ll make a nice side dish for the tarragon chicken I plan to make. I’ll use tarragon from the garden, too. This a real treat, because the tarragon is relatively young (planted this year, back in March I think) and still getting established.

The evening was lovely. We hung out awhile, listening to music, watching videos, and enjoying some “family time”. Pleasant. I ended the evening at more or less the usual time, in more or less the usual way. I had a plan to sleep in, have a walk, and go to a morning appointment, and do grocery shopping on the way home. (So far so good, I suppose. I didn’t sleep in at all. I woke without an alarm, at some ridiculous hour, for no obvious reason. Definitely no sleeping in, though I was groggy for the entire drive to the trailhead.)

The morning greeted me with a fat full moon hanging low in the predawn sky. I watched it set, and the sunrise begin, as I drove. Lovely.

A last glimpse of the full moon setting, from a favorite mid-point on my walk.

The summer air is fragrant with a spicy floral scent of something blooming. I can’t describe it, and don’t know for sure what the fragrance is. I breathe deeply. I walk the trail marveling at the dense mist clinging to the ground. The sunrise is hues of peach and pink, edged in delicate gold. I feel fortunate to see such splendor with my own eyes.

Here’s the thing… I’m not in a great mood. I’m cross and fatigued and in pain. Yesterday evening, my shitty mood from sleeping poorly the night before continued to linger. Shitty moods and difficult moments are part of the human experience, but they are not all of it, even in those difficult moments. What I remember most about yesterday are those beautiful carrots from the garden and how delicious they were. What I will remember about this morning will more likely be the scents of summer and the beautiful sunrise, not my headache or my crappy mood. Learning to savor (and be present for) the small joys in life has tended to make life more pleasant, generally.

I sit, smiling, in this favorite spot, watching little birds and chipmunks and squirrels enjoying the morning. I watch the sun rise. I watch the shifting mist flow over the ground, moving with the air, almost as if it were liquid. I watch the moon set, disappearing below the edge of the western horizon. I’m not in any rush. Lingering over this pleasant moment is more than enjoyable; it is restoring my joy and merriment. Each pleasant moment, and each breath of fragrant summer air brings a sense of joy, and my mood slowly improves. My irritation diminishes. I’m still tired and in pain, but it matters a little less with each passing moment of enjoyment in this place. We become what we practice. 😁

I reach a point of quiet contentment and general satisfaction with the moment, and with life. Nice place to find myself. I breathe, exhale, and relax. Sunlight fills the meadow and lights the tree tops. I sigh as I get to my feet. It’ll be time to begin again by the time I get back to the car.

I’m sipping my coffee grateful to have it, and grateful to be done with the budgeting and payday stuff. I didn’t sleep as restfully as I’d have liked; my sleep was interrupted by my Traveling Partner (I think? Was I dreaming it?) who woke me up for some reason, in the wee hours. My sleep after that was less than ideal, restless and plagued by strange dreams of stress and failure. I woke up feeling cranky and anti-social – and I’m grateful that so far the office is empty of other voices. It’s just me, here, now. I’m good with that. I’m not really “fit for company” quite yet.

…So cranky…

I sip my coffee and find myself vexed by “what ifs” and “if onlys”, and this headache (which is reliably worse when I sleep poorly). I’m cross with myself for doing such a shitty job of adulting when I was younger, and I’m annoyed that I failed completely to “look after” my future self, from that youthful vantage point. I didn’t make much money back then… Hell, I don’t “make much money” now – just an amount that covers the expenses with some small amount left to protect against emergencies to come, and I’m grateful for it. It could be worse. I do okay these days, though I’ll never be “wealthy”. This morning, I find myself wishing and yearning and frustrated that I’m not in a very different place (for example, already retired and living contentedly in my “leisure years”, spending my hours painting, writing, reading, and gardening). These are the sorts of thoughts and feelings that often develop out of restless nights, fatigue, poor self-care, and the sour moods that result from those experiences. They aren’t any more “real” than the dreams that plagued my sleep – and certainly they have no power over me that I don’t give them myself. They are the sort of thing that can generate a fuck-ton of “second dart suffering”, or become the kernel of discontent that can later become a major meltdown or moment of drama “for no reason”. I breathe, exhale, and relax, and do my best to let that shit go. There’s no value in letting it fester.

Breathe. Exhale. Relax. Repeat as needed.

I sigh to myself. Things are not “perfect”, but they’re okay for most values of “okay”, and I’m fortunate – and grateful for my good fortune. I’m also pretty cranky, and I’ve got a headache. I work on keeping those experiences separated from each other, in my emotional experience of the moment; they are not in any way actually related to each other. Human primates are weird. When we’re cross or frustrated there’s this odd tendency to make it about “everything”, connecting dots that aren’t really connected, conflating one thing with another, and blowing shit way out of proportion over… nothing much at all. No doubt it served some evolutionary purpose intended to ensure our survival as a species, but it sure as shit isn’t very helpful now. lol

As with any choice, there are verbs involved.

I drag my consciousness back to this moment, right here. This moment in which I am 100% fine, thanks. It is an ordinary enough Friday morning, an ordinary enough summer day, the beginning of some new moment unrelated to the moments I’ve left behind – a new beginning. I’d honestly like to begin it with a damned nap – or some sort of notable relief for this fucking headache – but realistically, there’s this work day ahead of me, and I’ve got shit to do. “Nap time” is not now. I sip my coffee and remind myself that resources are always limited in this finite mortal life (for most people). It is the nature of resources to be limited. Time or money, or precious goods cultivated or dug from holes in the ground. Limits exist. So, we budget, and plan, and do our best to make all the pieces fit in our lives. It’s a very human experience.

The clock ticks off the minutes. I sigh again, frustrated by life’s limitations. Frustrated by feeling tired and cross with the world. Vexed by humanity.

…I let all that go, again

Finding a pleasant distraction in recent photographs can help lift my mood.

I flip through pictures from my camping trip to distract me from my irritability. I feel my face soften into a smile, and my shoulders relax. Some moments feel harder than they really are. We make so much of our own stress, and behave as if it is external to us. I know I can choose differently – it’s just not always easy to shift from intention to action. The effort matters quite a lot. The choices too. It’s necessary to accept that things can change – and that I can change them.

…I’m almost out of coffee…

Each time for the first time, each moment the only moment. ~Jon Kabat-Zinn

The clock ticks on. Limitations do exist. Choices and opportunities for change exist. The journey is the destination. In practical terms, I create my path as I walk it – the route is mine to choose. So… yeah. I’m cranky right now, but I can choose differently. Fuck I wish saying as much made it easier to do the verbs! There’s real effort involved, and I’d frankly rather just take a nap and begin again later… that’s not on today’s “menu”. lol It’s already time to begin again – and I’ve got choices to make, and verbs to do.

I’m sipping this excellent cup of coffee and enjoying one more morning off of work before resuming the day-to-day routine of work-errands-chores-cooking-sleeping, and hoping to keep up on everything before something unexpected goes awry. Real life. It’s nice to get an occasional break from the routine.

A new day, a familiar view.

I woke to a rainy morning. No surprise; it was the rain in the forecast that brought me home a day early. “Good fold”. My walk was slow and careful this morning – the hiking miles of the previous days have left me sore and aching, and my arthritis has flared up painfully (predictably enough). I still got out on the trail; it just doesn’t do to let good habits slide (for me) even for a couple days. Actions have consequences, and I try to choose wisely and work around my limitations.

…My results vary, of course…

Practices are about repetition – sometimes even things that I feel I’ve “mastered” need reinforcement, and frankly, when I think about those tasks I feel I’ve acquired some mastery over, I often find there’s more to learn. Practices are also about effort and will and consistency, and overcoming my own reluctance to change or inner resistance to coming face-to-face with things that really just don’t work, however much I may favor them. Humans being human, we tend to cling to what we think is right or true or useful, without examing our results too closely. It’s an unfortunate characteristic of human cognition; we like to take shortcuts. Sometimes I fail myself or fall short of my expectations. Human. When I do, I begin again.

“We become what we practice” is so very true it almost goes without saying, except that by not acknowledging that truth, I create the risk of stepping into some trap that is built on practices that are less than ideal. Doesn’t matter what I’m practicing; the more I practice that thing, the more it becomes characteristic of who I am. True for you, too. Unavoidably true. What are you practicing? Does it lead you to becoming the person you most want to be? If it doesn’t, then why are you practicing that?

Sometimes it helps to look beyond the obvious.

I sip my coffee and reflect on self-reflection, and the value of incremental change over time, for some little while. There is no one walking this earth who is utterly perfect without potential for change or growth. The journey is the destination, and if it were “easy” a lot of people would still manage to fail, somehow. Practicing the practices that make any one of us the person we most want to be still requires work, real work, with effort. This is more effective when we practice in a willful, self-aware way. This further requires self-reflection – an examination of our successes and failures, independent of the opinions of other people, reliant on our understanding of ourself and our goals. Each experience thus examined and understood, and explored for potential to learn and grow becomes another step on a path. The map is not the world. The plan is not the experience. We each have to walk our own mile – wherever that takes us. It’s easier to make a journey – any journey – with eyes open, and some light on the path.

Like it or not, you’ve got to walk your own path – and get somewhere.

When you stumble – begin again. Examine your failure, learn from that, do a little better than you did yesterday. Over time, you will have made a journey, and gotten yourself somewhere. Where does your path lead? This is your experience. Your life. Choose wisely. Keep practicing.

My last day out here in the trees. The night was chilly, and my sleep was restless. Noisy families. Noisy late arrivals. Distant sirens. Humanity is noisy. We’re not very good at quiet.

The nearby hydroelectric dam that creates Estacada Lake is one more source of noise, in the background.

We’re also not good at “leaving no trace”. Yesterday, I spotted pop cans, coffee cups, and bits of assorted trash in the brush along the edges of every trail I walked. Not a lot, but that isn’t the point – any is too much. Disappointing. This morning I took a trash bag with me on my mid-morning (after breakfast) (and second coffee) hike. (Might have been easier to say “my second hike” this morning.) I returned to camp with the bag half full, and feeling I’d done at least a little something to make the world just a little bit better in some small way. I’m not feeling smug about it, more that I’m grateful to have had it in me to lug that bag along the whole distance. Some days I just don’t.

Where does this path lead?

… G’damn my feet ache. 😆 I’m not bitching, just noticing…

I’ve put a few miles on my boots and seen a few things.

I settle into my camp chair and put my feet up on the seat of the picnic table. I drink water. I sit with my thoughts, a little bit distracted by adjacent campers breaking down their camps for departure. I’m thinking about it, myself; there’s a strong forecast of rain beginning in the wee hours and not expected to end until quite late in the day, tomorrow. I dislike tearing down camp in the rain. Wet gear doesn’t pack easily, and reliably needs to be unpacked to dry out and repacked all over again before going back into storage until next time. I don’t like the extra work involved. I don’t like getting wet while I’m breaking down my camp.

…If you don’t like the circumstances, choose differently…

I know my Traveling Partner misses me, and that I’ll be welcomed home. I still reach out and check that I won’t be inconveniencing him with a change of plans – that’s basic courtesy. I respect his time and plans the way he respects mine. So… Stay? Go? I’m leaning towards heading home this afternoon, late enough to enjoy this beautiful sunny day, early enough to be home for dinner. I do a mental walk through of the repacking. I consider small changes to what I’ve got packed where, with my next trip in mind.

Sooo many chipmunks!

I breathe, exhale, and relax, and let all that go in favor of “now”. Begin again? It can wait for some later moment. I sit watching the chipmunks playing in the sunshine (so many chipmunks!). Maybe another coffee…?

Not “brand placement”, not “sponsored content”, just a woman thinking about another cup of coffee. 😂

And bunnies…

… one of many.

So… I’m sitting here enjoying the breeze and the sounds of the birds and squirrels and chipmunks, and letting the idea of it being my last day become more real and settled. I’ll have another coffee, maybe another short hike and a bite of lunch… Then I’ll pack up the gear and begin again. This trip into the trees has served its purpose, and that’s enough (it was never about the plan).

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.