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Well, Now

September 17, 2025 //
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It’s a strange morning, although I can’t put my finger on why exactly it feels so strange. I feel “caught between moments”, I suppose, and not sure what to do about it, or even whether anything I do about will make any difference at all. I feel vaguely disconnected from the many details of a busy adult life, and struggling to care about that. I’d rather drive out to the coast, park somewhere with a view of the beach and the tide, and just… sit awhile with my thoughts. Perhaps clarity would come if only I weren’t listening to my tinnitus, loud, shrill, and grating on my nerves?

… When I am at the seashore, I can’t hear my tinnitus at all, it’s drowned out completely by the sounds of the wind and the waves breaking on the shore. Maybe I just need a break?…

“You lack discipline!” some stern voice in my head says, unyieldingly. “Do your best”, is the kinder recommendation I offer myself. I’m tired. Oh, well-rested enough for the work day ahead, and tonight I’m not also having to cook dinner, but still, I am chronically, persistently fatigued from decades of working. Sometimes the fatigue becomes hard to overlook, and I’m sitting here feeling it – and feeling both a little sorry for myself, and also seriously annoyed about that. It will pass. So will my awareness of my persistent fatigue. Some days are better.

My head aches, and the headache is vexing me. I breathe, exhale, and relax, hoping that the fresh chilly morning air will lift my mood. I watch the sun begin to rise, from a favorite vantage point along a favorite local trail. It could be worse.

I sigh to myself, thinking about life, and the way the path we take can have so little resemblance to the path we planned to take. I’m not filled with regrets or overcome by sorrow or some gloomy feeling of futility, it’s not that at all. I’m just tired. Often. So many things take real work, and require more of me than may be apparent. My little family counts on me for so much… I’m not always sure I have enough to give. I’m doing my best. That’s all I’ve got.

I stretch and get to my feet, eyeing the path that leads back along the riverbank, around the vineyard, and back to the parking lot. It’s already time to begin again, I’ve only got to take that first step to get going…

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Categories Allegories, anhedonia, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, health, Healthy Living, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, The Art of Being, War and News of War, Words

Next Steps, New Moments

September 16, 2025 //
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It was still dark when I stepped onto the trail this morning. It’s only barely daybreak now. My tinnitus is loud in my ears, and the morning is otherwise quiet and still. It is a peculiar solitary moment, not quite lonely, but a little poignant, perhaps, though not for any particular reason. I sigh quietly, and sit with my thoughts.

Yesterday was a good day. I enjoyed a lovely evening at home, after work, with my Traveling Partner, watching favorite shows in the newly reorganized media library. Time, well-spent. I slept well and deeply. I woke feeling rested. I feel pretty good now, too.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I sit in the solitary stillness, wrapped in contentment. For a time, there is no moment but this one, here, now. I think about sunrises and new beginnings, autumn rains and the end of summer. I realize, as I blow my nose on the last tissue in my pocket, that I forgot to pick up travel tissues for the car yesterday. I guess I was just that eager to get home after work.

I reminisce about former colleagues and past jobs, and smile thinking about my new team. Four analysts, soon to grow to seven – it’s not the biggest team I’ve ever lead, and I find it a very manageable size. Comfortable. Each team member brings a unique skillset to the work we share. Fun people, too. I’m enjoying this element of the new role. There’s so much to learn and to do. The “hardest” part, for now, is consuming all the policy documentation and learning all the new tools fast enough to be really useful, as close to immediately as I reasonably can. It is a fun and busy time. I remind myself that it is still “just work”, and relative to other things in life, it isn’t the most important thing going on, at all. There’s more to life than the job we do for the money to live that life.

Another breath of cool autumn morning air fills my lungs. I sit quietly, breathing, aware, and letting my thoughts pass through the open sky of my consciousness for a little while, like fluffy clouds.

… I am out of tissues…

I think about the upcoming Autumnal Equinox. I usually take that day off from work. My Traveling Partner had asked if I have plans. It wasn’t even on my mind, after the chaos and upheaval of losing one job, and the scramble to find the next. I’m reluctant to take time off during the first thirty days. I probably could, though. I think about it for some little while. Then I let myself think about the winter holidays, coming up so quickly. It seems only weeks ago that it was New Year’s… But it also seems an unimaginable long time ago, too, with so much going on in the world. What’s next, I wonder?

… And what about dinner, tonight? Beef and broccoli, stir-fry? That does sound good, and I’ve got everything I need to make it…

I sit with my thoughts awhile longer. Soon enough it’ll be time to begin again…

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Categories Allegories, autumn, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, The Art of Being, War and News of War, Words

Welcoming the Moment

September 14, 2025 //
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It was dark when I left the house, even though it was an hour or more later than usual. I’m slowly convincing my body to shift the day to a somewhat later start (and finish). It was still so dark partly due to the rainy weather and dense cloud cover. It was still raining gently, but had clearly rained harder during the night. I have a vague recollection of hearing the pleasant percussive chime of raindrops on a vent cover, during the night when I got up briefly to pee.

I arrived at the trailhead as the rain became a soft misty drizzle, grateful for my rain poncho, but I’m laughing now, because it isn’t raining at all, and my poncho’s only purpose is as a dry spot on this fence rail, where I often like to sit for some little while.

A favorite perspective on a moment.

My Traveling Partner pings me, asking if I am sitting in the car, waiting for the rain to stop? It’s not raining here, now, and I share that information. Simple communication, and I feel loved that he cares enough to ask. I sit watching the many little birds doing little bird things; they don’t mind the wet morning at all. Looks like the squirrels and chipmunks are sleeping in, though, no sign of them this morning. There are more migratory birds on the ponds each time I come, lately, another sign of autumn approaching. The cool rain-fresh air is another sign. The dark green of the oaks isn’t any different than summer, too early for them to change, but other deciduous trees are beginning to turn and I see hints of yellow and orange here and there. Somewhere a rooster crows.

This is one moment of many in this finite mortal lifetime, and soon I’ll return home to other moments, with a sense of being refreshed and recharged, feeling rested and purposeful, ready to tackle the Sunday housekeeping chores, and maybe bake something.

My mind wanders to yesterday. My butane stove, which I use with my wok, failed me. The nozzle or the carburetor, or some smaller part between the two, wasn’t working. It wasn’t an expensive stove, and may have simply used up what it had to offer, but it was a gift from my Traveling Partner. We looked it over together to determine whether to fix it or replace it, and decided in favor of replacement, though we both have the necessary skills to tear it down, and rebuild it. (It wasn’t obvious whether it could be repaired and safely used after doing so.) If the replacement really does arrive today, I suppose I’ll make stir fry tonight and try it out…

I breathe, exhale, and relax. Nice start to the day. I enjoy rain, and the fragrance of petrichor. I watch a rather large nutria waddling down the gentle slope from the oaks back to the edge of the pond, where I see her little ones playing on the bank. They pay no attention to me.

I sit awhile longer with my thoughts, aware of my breathing and distant sounds of traffic. I remind myself to stop at the big box DIY store on my way home for something my beloved asked me to pick up for him. I’m pleased that I didn’t forget, and didn’t need my many notes and reminders on my calendar, shopping list, and to-do list. Win! It’s a small thing, but always pleases me to remember something without help.

These gentle lovely moments really matter. I sit with this one awhile. There is no hurry, today, and there is value in savoring each moment of joy. This moment will end, soon enough, and it will be time to head back down the path and begin again.

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Categories Allegories, autumn, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, joy, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, The Art of Being, War and News of War

Feeling the Chill

September 13, 2025 //
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I slept in. I got to the trailhead after daybreak. No colorful sunrise, the morning is misty and gray, and a little chilly. Fog obscures the meadow on the other side of the highway, as I park.

Not much of a view this morning.

I head down the trail contentedly, feeling rested and ready for the day ahead. It is the weekend. I walk with my thoughts, and the sounds of distant traffic and geese on the marsh. The meadow is brown and waiting for the autumn rain to come.

I get to my halfway point and take a seat on a nearby fence rail looking out over meadow and marsh, enjoying the stillness and the misty morning. I breathe, exhale, and relax, taking time for meditation and reflection, and making room for a moment of gratitude. There’s real joy (for me) in the simple pleasure of a moment of contentment and quiet. I savor it. The world being the place it presently is, it doesn’t do to waste a moment of contentment and joy by overlooking it.

I’ve got a project today, that fits into the needs of hearth and home, and also the garden. I am planning to tidy the garden shed, which is crowded with this and that, and no longer the convenient solution it was intended to be. I won’t need to work around the oppressive summer heat, it is a cool day, making me glad I delayed this project a couple weekends. I may even be looking forward to it.

Perspective on a moment.

From my pleasant vantage point, I sit with my thoughts a little while, reflecting on the day ahead. I feel fortunate to enjoy such moments. Grateful. I breathe the morning air deeply, filling my lungs with fresh air, and my heart with fond appreciation and gratitude. The mist begins to thicken and envelope me. I watch the trees around me beginning to fade into the mist with child-like wonder. As the mist becomes a proper dense fog, the sounds of distant traffic are muffled and begin to be lost in the din of my tinnitus.

Grocery shopping, first, then my project and time spent hanging out with my Traveling Partner. Tomorrow, all the usual housekeeping stuff, preparing for a new week. My anxiety about being laid off, and then of being in a new job, has died away completely. Things feel pretty routine and ordinary. It’s a good feeling.

I sigh contentedly, and get ready to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, autumn, breathe, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, Healthy Living, joy, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Practices, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being, Uncategorized

It’s Not Jam

September 12, 2025 //
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Hate is contagious and corrosive. It can become lethal. Hate can influence the thinking of entire groups of people. Hate can make one individual do terrible things. Hate can drive people to murder.

… What does it mean when someone perceived as hateful, or who espouses hateful ideas, is themselves the victim of hate?…

I’m as human as anyone. There are ideas and people I find pretty horrible and hateful, myself. It’s most often not a personal sort of emotional experience, it’s more abstract than that. I’m not sure I’ve ever truly “hated” anyone in a direct and personal way. I have actively disliked people enough to avoid them. I have even loathed an individual to the point that I had nothing good to say about them, if asked. Hate, though? That seems a bigger deal, a deeper emotional investment that implies a commitment to infusing the awareness of the individual with persistent steady negative emotion – enough, perhaps, to be a weapon itself. I’d really have to care about someone, in some sense, in order to hate them, I think. What do I know, though? I avoid engaging in hate as an experience. There is reliably always too much I don’t know that could change my opinion.

Don’t shoot people because you’re angry. Don’t shoot people over ideology either. That kind of hateful shit is terrible for the perpetrator, in it’s own fashion, and it’s likely to have regrettable consequences. It’s terrible for the world. Violence is toxic and terrible and the “solutions” it provides aren’t the sort with real value. (Have you seen the images of Gaza and Ukraine since the most recent conflicts began in those places?) I don’t suppose, if you’re reading this blog, that you need that sort of cautionary reminder; you’re likely on a different path.

So… Charlie Kirk is dead, I hear. I can’t say his death moves me personally at all. He represented no good qualities or ideas to me. I did not know him personally, and was only aware of him in the most indirect way, as some favored conservative talking head notable enough to be mocked on South Park. (South Park is hilarious, and definitely knows how to tap the zeitgeist, and my opinion hasn’t changed.) I don’t have any personal feeling of loss over Charlie Kirk’s death. The hateful ideas of our conservative administration get people killed and wrecks lives every day…why would this one guy, famed for saying hateful things, getting shot be at all noteworthy?

I think killing people is wrong. It’s vile and wasteful and morally repugnant. Humanity could do better. That doesn’t change because someone I find unlikeable gets killed. It’s still wrong. I just don’t plan to spend more time thinking or talking about this particular death. Aren’t the innocent lives lost to school shootings, domestic violence, and police brutality more worthy of conversation? Isn’t genocide more important to address than the death of one voice espousing hate? And femicide? Infant mortality due to disease? I guess I’m just saying that this one particular shooting death carries no significance for me. It’s unfortunate people are still so primitive and barbaric that they seek to solve problems through violence. That’s the problem worth solving. We could definitely do better.

Don’t spread your hate around (or anyone else’s) – it’s not fucking jam.

I pull myself back to this gray moment, here, now.

I sigh to myself looking at the gray sky. Daybreak came on the trail and I am sitting with my thoughts before the work day begins. I’m tired and I slept badly. The alarm woke me, and I thought it was a mistake, at first. My eyes still feel gritty and dry. My head aches. I’m feeling cross with myself and with the world. I definitely need more rest than I got. I’m grateful the weekend is ahead and that the week has gone well… but… g’damn I’m just so fucking tired. I’ve got shit to do, and all I really want is to go back to sleep.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I yawn and rub my eyes. I don’t feel groggy – that’s something good. Too much to do to have to deal with grogginess or brain fog, too, and I’m grateful. Slowly I pull my focus back to the things that matter most (to me, right now) and let the rest go. I’m grateful that I remember telling my beloved Traveling Partner I’d run to the store before work, and glance at the clock. Already time to begin again…

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Categories 2024 Election, Allegories, anger, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, grief, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5, War and News of War
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