Archives for posts with tag: self-care

The morning sky is a featureless homogeneous soft gray. It rained during the night, and feels like it might rain again today at some point. My walk was quiet, and I spent the time mostly in my own head. I’ve got my own opinions about world events, and I know you have yours. No doubt we each think we’re right (or at least justified) about the opinions we hold. The smarter we each actually are, the more likely we’re also aware of how wrong we could be, or sensitive to how nuanced circumstances truly are.

Being human is funny that way; we’re each having our own experience. Each walking our own path. Each of us making the journey on our own terms, except where we’ve yielded our decision making power to some Other. We’ve got our own opinions, formed and informed by our own experiences, and our own circumstances, colored by our individual pattern of biases, assumptions, and superstitions. We’ve got our own dreams, our own goals, our own disappointments and inner demons. We are individuals capable of critical thinking, when we choose to think critically (a choice which is quite separate from the ability). We create the world we live in directly through our choices and our actions. We are, as a species, uniquely creative and incredibly intelligent, while also being willfully stupid and terribly destructive. The scale of our ability to destroy is likely to be our undoing; we lack the wisdom to be cautious and to approach threats to our survival with care. A large portion of the whole of humanity is thoroughly committed to profit and personal gain even at the cost of humanity’s demise. Weird.

Oak trees in a meadow, the largest of them have been here longer than I have.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. Warfare is stupid and pointlessly destructive. That’s my opinion. We could do better.

I sit with my thoughts and my opinions at the edge of this meadow, wishing human beings weren’t so completely shortsighted and criminally greedy. I sigh and try again to let that go. Fretting over things I can’t change about the decision making and opinions of other people is just about as pointless as things get. I definitely have better things to do with my time. Strange that people so eager to make war don’t seem aware that they could choose peace instead.

“Golden Opportunity” blooming on a rainy day.

I sit awhile wondering how it is we have not yet overcome the most basic flaws in our character as human primates and wonder why it is so many of us are so greedy for arbitrary representations of wealth. I hear the traffic in the distance. It’s a quiet morning, here. No bombs falling here. No drone attacks. No artillery fire. No landmines in these meadows. No trenches. No destruction. Americans tend to be some very NIMBY motherfuckers about such things; we fling our munitions at targets elsewhere in the world, and very few Americans have stared directly into the face of the God of War. To do so would force us to confront the cruelty, waste, and injustice of war, and to reckon with the body count. It is my opinion that most people who understand war and the cost in wasted resources and lost lives don’t so easily choose to inflict it on others. What do I even know about it, beyond my own experience, though? Maybe nothing.

I have seen war, up close and personal. I’d rather not go there again. Nothing is worth paying that price. Nothing. Humanity could do better. We make terrible choices.

A crow watching the tide come in.

It’s been a lovely week off. Now the weekend begins to end and the world is waiting. What next? Where does this path lead? Each moment is a blank page – what story will you write? What choices will you make? How will you (or I) make the world a better place for every creature who makes this muddy rock hurtling through space their home? We could… There are verbs involved, and our results will vary. I promise you one thing; war is not the way.

I sigh to myself. You can lead a human being to knowledge but you cannot make them think.

I get to my feet and look down the trail. Moments are fleeting. It’s a good time to begin again. I’ll do my best to live well, to embrace joy, and encourage others, and to refrain from acts of destruction. I can, if nothing else, live my values authentically and avoid violence. I may not change the world for the better in any obvious way, but I can surely avoid making shit worse.

I slept in, like, properly slept in, waking a couple hours later than I ordinarily would, feeling well rested, and ready for a new day. Being home feels good.

A familiar view from a favorite trail.

My legs ache. It’s just sore muscles, from recent days of more than usual walking. I mostly ignore it, and walk on. The blue skies of recent days have yielded to encroaching gray clouds gathering overhead. The air feels heavy with higher than typical humidity. I keep on walking, through oak groves and alongside meadows and vineyards. I pass by a creek, and lush dense weeds and wildflowers that grow along the banks, edged by trees. Farm workers in the vineyard eye me warily as I pass. I wave. They wave back. We have nothing to fear from each other. I continue walking.

It was an ordinary walk on an ordinary morning. I hope I have many such walks (and mornings) ahead of me. Gray skies or blue, the details matter less than my ability to walk on, and my freedom and opportunity to do so.

I sit quietly after my walk, on a convenient picnic table tucked among the oaks trees that line the beginning of this particular trail. It’s not remote or exotic, and lacks any sort of features that might attract crowds. It’s just a convenient local trail, well maintained, paved and mostly level, and even lit in some sections (which is nice for very early mornings before sunrise). It feels safe and familiar, and long enough to be satisfying (it’s about a mile and a half all the way around), but short enough to be quite manageable even when I’m having some difficulties. This trail is rarely crowded, which is a nice bonus.

My tinnitus is annoyingly loud in my ears. I do my best to focus on other things. I breathe, exhale, and relax. It is a pleasant morning and I am happy to be home. I remind myself to stop at the store on my way home, but can’t recall what I need to get. I chuckle to myself; I have an app for that. I probably rely on that too much.

I sigh contentedly, savoring this pleasant moment before I begin again. The clock is ticking on a new day. It’ll soon be time to begin again…

Where does this path lead? What will I see along the way?

The ringing in my ears is loud this morning. I pay it no particular attention; it’s reliably always there and the only thing to do about it is to focus on other things. My hot coffee. The chill of the morning at the edge of a meadow surrounded by forest. The distant sound of traffic on the highway, faint but still audible. Voices. I sigh and lace up my boots. A walk after coffee sounds delightful.

… I slept poorly but it hasn’t caught up with me yet…

Light in the darkness.

I woke several times during the night to pee. I guess I’m adequately hydrated. 😆 Each time I stepped out into the darkness, I paused to gaze at the stars a little while. I could see the Milky Way. I would return, following the short path between my campsite and the restroom, guided by the merry string of colored lights that I hung around my tent, specifically to make it easier to find in the dark. The night didn’t begin to feel cold until shortly before daybreak and I was pretty comfortable, just not sleeping restfully.

… The night felt long…

My walk warmed me up more than my morning coffee did. It’s been mostly uphill, and I wound my way through the trees, stepping carefully where the trail was not well-maintained. I reached my goal; the day use area. It took me longer to get here than I expected, but I wasn’t going for speed, only solitude. Walking to leave the sound of voices behind me, and in this instance quite successfully. There’s no one else here right now. It’s lovely and quiet (except for the tinnitus, which no one else hears).

A new day.

My head aches and I am thinking about more coffee, though I certainly had my usual amount (more than). I look over the park map. This trail? That one? What about this other one? It looks new, since my last visit here (which was 2022, I think). It’s probably early enough to find parking at one of the trailheads for the BVT… I yawn and stretch. It isn’t nap time, yet.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. What is my purpose, here? Meditation. Self-reflection. Setting intentions for this next year of living. This, right now, it isn’t really any if those things in a useful way. The miles of trails do seem to connect me with my sense of purpose. I look out at the horizon and wonder how many miles to those hills? The map suggests that those are in the Tillamook State Forest, and about 16 miles away (as the crow flies). It would be more than an hour to drive there, and about 12 to walk it, according to Maps. I think about how often the thing we seek seems so near, but really isn’t near at all. That’s a useful bit of perspective.

The sun comes out from behind morning clouds and warms me. I remind myself to put my phone on the charger when I get back to camp, as I eye the trail heading back down the hill. I think about heading back, and take another look at the map. Time to begin again.

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…

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.