Archives for posts with tag: self-reflection

I get so much peace and clarity out on the trail. Any trail, really, whether new or familiar, it’s more about the walking, the seeing, and the thinking. Moments spent on self-reflection and contemplation are precious and often useful for finding (or creating) depth and breadth in my perspective.

… I keep walking…

A clear blue summer sky.

The tangerine sunrise gave the morning a lovely golden color, and as I drove to the trailhead I watched it develop, stretching over the horizon. The sun took me by surprise, briefly blinding me, seeming to pop up from behind distant hills without warning, a fiery orange. I arrived at the nature park, surprised by the dense mist clinging in the low places; it didn’t seem to have gotten cool enough for that, but there it was.

I walked with my thoughts until I reached a pleasant spot to linger, watching the Tualatin River flowing by. I don’t generally stop at this viewpoint, it’s often “crowded” (for some values of crowded, it’s a popular spot). I’ve got it to myself this morning, and I’m grateful for the shaded little bench. Comfortable. Protected from the heat of the day that hasn’t yet arrived. I remind myself not to linger too long – I plan to make banana bread before it gets too hot to have the oven on.

The world is a mess right now. People with power or vast sums of money are pretty commonly quite terrible and working aggressively to increase their power, clout, standing, or hoarded wealth as quickly as they can pry resources away from people who already have too little. Grim. America keeping immigrants and refugees in cages. Israel planning concentration camps for Palestinians who have (so far) survived genocide. Russia willing to slaughter every Ukrainian to the last standing in order to expand their real estate holdings. Chaos and bloodshed everywhere, and every single time there is some profit making endeavor involved. It’s grotesque. We could do so much better as human beings.

… I think about small ways I can do better, myself, to be the person I most want to be…

Who are you? Where does your path lead? Are you living a life that requires a ton of excuse making and rationalization? Are you defiant when someone knows more than you do? Are you smug when they know less? Are you kind, pleasant, and approachable? Are you building bridges or destroying them? Are you even paying enough attention in your own life to know who you are and why? These are questions worth answering – or at least asking and giving some thought to. You tell the world what your values are with your actions, wouldn’t it be wise to have some understanding of what you may be saying?

Are you being an unpleasant dick because you can’t be bothered to take a moment for human decency and basic consideration? (You’re not alone, if you are, but it’s a choice with consequences, and also likely to degrade the quality of your relationships.)

What are you doing to become the person you most want to be? Who is that? Have you figured that out?

The future is unwritten.

The sunshine of a new day stretches across the meadow. I look down the path ahead of me and consider the steps along this path. The journey won’t make itself. I have choices. My results will vary – but it’s my journey, my path, and my choices. Every step and every moment is a chance to begin again and to do better. I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s time to walk on. Time to begin again. I smile to myself and tell the woman in the mirror to go take a hike. The clock is ticking.

I’m sitting in the sunshine as the sun rises. Pretty morning. My walk to this point has been quiet and pleasant. There was no traffic on the highway, either. If the folks in my neighborhood are a representative sample of Americans in the area, most folks who were going somewhere this weekend are gone, and those that were up late firing off various fireworks and noise makers are probably sleeping in; that shit was still going on at midnight.

A misty morning at the trailhead.

I’m enjoying the quiet and the solitude. Somewhere in the distance, I hear an occasional car pass by. My tinnitus is crazy loud this morning, and my back aches ferociously. I breathe, exhale, and relax, pulling my posture more upright. Changing my position doesn’t ease my pain in any noteworthy way, but slumping carelessly definitely tends to make it worse. Choices. I grumble silently to myself; everything seems to require a fucking effort. lol I laugh at myself for resisting the truth of it. Yes, surely things require effort. That’s just real. I sigh to myself and let it go. There’s no use fighting the effort required to do things. The best I can do is to make wise choices about what I am doing and where I’m putting my limited resources as an individual (even down to the effort involved).

Halfway “there” is just a point along the way. The journey is the destination.

…Fuck pain…

I sigh to myself and smile, thinking about yesterday. Nice evening. The Anxious Adventurer made lemon bars. Tasty. I made (a fairly simple, summertime) dinner. Nothing fancy. We enjoyed it together as a family. The weather was fairly mild and not hot, and we had turned off the AC, enjoying the natural breeze through windows open wide to the summer air.

I’ve no clear agenda for the weekend. Routine housekeeping stuff I guess. I sit watching the little birds at the edge of the meadow. I think about old friends and try to distract myself from pain. Maybe it is a good day to get out into the garden? There’s laundry to do, too. I chuckle at myself when I find myself daydreaming about doing housework as I sit here in the sunshine visualizing this or that task I know I am likely to do on a Saturday, and wondering what I can actually accomplish in practical terms. I’d rather sit with my feet up in the garden, sipping iced coffee and ignoring the tick of the clock, but time is a precious and finite resource and I have things to do. Another sigh breaks the stillness.

What next? I don’t know, yet. I’ve got options to consider. Choices to make. I’ve got my own path to walk. For the moment I am content just to be here, now, enjoying the morning sun without attachment to any particular outcome. Later, I can begin again.

The sunrise was a bold assortment of hues of pink and magenta this morning, rays of color flaring from behind streaks of pink clouds edged with mauve. I watched as I drove to the trailhead.

A new day, a new perspective.

…I wish I’d slept in…

I yawned through the first half of my walk, feeling sleepy. I feel like I could easily enjoy a nap, though I slept well and deeply and woke rested this morning. Doesn’t matter, and I keep walking.

I reached my halfway point happy to pause, but wishing there were a hammock conveniently nearby. lol There is not.

I sit watching a small herd of deer crossing the meadow. They have two fawns with them. It’s that time of year, and I know I’ll be seeing the fawn that has been keeping the local doe coming back to my garden again and again. Soon they’ll move on for the summer, and my roses will get a break from being nibbled at.

4 of July. My Traveling Partner has some work he expects will keep him occupied for much of the day. I’ll busy myself with tidying up the deck for cooking, later. The groceries are on hand. No errands to run that can’t wait (none that I recall right now), just a pleasant holiday weekend ahead, available for relaxation, good food, and fun.

I sit awhile watching the new day begin, and thinking about summer times past. The things I miss most about childhood summers are fireflies, thunderstorms, and leisure time (which seemed so endless then, it is hard to imagine now). There are no fireflies in this part of the world, and thunderstorms are quite uncommon. I’m managing to get sufficient leisure time, generally, but it doesn’t feel like those endless days of summer from my childhood. I sigh to myself, grateful for the three day weekend.

A little yellow and black bird hops quite close to me and sings a little song before flying away. I don’t even try to get a picture. I already know he’s too quick for me.

I get to my feet. Another yawn. It’s already time to begin again.

I’m sipping an iced coffee and readying myself for the day ahead. I’m also browsing the pictures in the “gallery” app on my phone, and enjoying pleasant recollections of my recent day trip to the coast. I am thinking about goals and intentions, and forward momentum, and how different an object on the horizon looks compared to what I may see up close when I arrive at that destination – and how easy it can be for something along the way to distract me as I travel.

The horizon, a distant smudge. How far away is that?

I sigh out loud and rub my neck. My headache was with me when I woke this morning. It’ll probably be with me all day. Doesn’t matter, really, and there’s not much I can do about it. I breathe, exhale, and relax, and let that go.

A destination, a goal, and idea – what does it take to get there?

It’ll be another hot summer day, today. I’m okay with that. I’m grateful for the air conditioning that makes that a comfortable idea, at all. I’m fortunate to have that luxury available to me, and I sit with my gratitude for some little while, thinking about other times and places when I was not so fortunate.

Where we thought we’d like to go may be less achievable than we anticpated, or require more of us to reach than we planned. It’s okay to change our path – or to work for our goal. The choice is ours.

I feel a little tired before the day even begins, which surprises me, until I realize that there is this subtle awareness in the background of my thoughts of a world in chaos: genocides, acts of war, terrible cruelty, lives lost, lives wasted, and terrible people doing terrible things. Is my fatigue simply the unavoidable awareness wearing me down, or a sign that I am fighting that awareness too much with too little positive result? I think about that awhile, too, and ponder the critical need for skillful self-care. What do I need from myself this morning to nurture this fragile vessel and this valiant heart?

When I take a closer look, I am sometimes surprised by what I find. Definitely look closer (it’s a metaphor).

…For starters, I would do well to drink more water than coffee on such a hot day, eh? (I remind myself to get some water when I finish this.)

…Maybe make a point of getting up from my desk every hour and stretch or walk around a bit rather than sit here hyper-focused on work that absolutely can wait on a wee break. (I put a couple break intervals on my work calendar and mark myself “busy” for those, and set reminders so I don’t forget.)

…My mental and emotional health will benefit from reconnecting with distant friends, and checking in with those dear to me who are nearer, too. (I smile and think of people I enjoy and who are dear to me. I’m grateful there are so many.)

I sip my coffee content to have a forward path and some idea what sorts of things will nurture me and lift me up, that also easily fit into a busy work day. It’s a start. More often than not, a beginning is enough to get me going – if nothing else, it’s where I begin (again). 😀 That’s enough. The clock is ticking… it’s time to get on with it.

Big or small, we choose what we put our attention on – and our choices matter.

I’m sitting in the sunshine in a favorite spot along a favorite trail, at the edge of an oak grove, between meadow and marsh (although the marsh is less marsh-y and more meadow-y this time of year making the distinction less clear).

A nice quiet spot for a pleasant quiet moment.

I’m taking a few minutes for meditation, and writing a few words before I get to my feet and finish my walk. Lovely morning for it. I enjoy this time and often use it for reflecting on this or that, and sometimes just to relax, breathe, and “hear myself think”. This morning? No agenda. No errands. No necessary shopping on the way home. Just this pleasant summer morning, this sunny spot in an oak grove, and these quiet solitary moments. It’s enough. Feels almost luxurious.

What might you see if you slow down to look?

Yesterday, at my Traveling Partner’s suggestion, I drove over to the coast and enjoyed a couple hours on the beach, exploring tide pools and walking with my camera, my thoughts, and my eyes on the horizon. Time well-spent. I returned home quite tired and satisfied with the day. I don’t know what I’ll do with today. My finger is still healing, no longer wrapped in a cumbersome bandage and surgical dressing, just a bandaid, but it’s not yet healed enough for hard work, gardening, or household cleaning solutions and still needs to be kept quite clean and dry and protected from damage. Maybe I’ll read? Do a bit of laundry? I just don’t know yet.

I sigh to myself and let all that go; it’s not important in this moment that I know what I’m doing in some future moment. Not this morning, on this lovely summer morning, perched on a fence rail, feeling the sun on my back. I let myself just enjoy this moment right here, now, while it lasts.  Soon enough it’ll be time to begin again.