Archives for posts with tag: sit happens

Banana Bread

March 15, 2025 //

The work week finally ended. I got home tired and uninspired about home cooking, late in the afternoon. I wasn’t hungry, just thirsty and fatigued. My Traveling Partner had put in a full day in his shop machining parts to upgrade the lathe. He had overlooked having lunch. I made him a hearty sandwich and then put my feet up for a little while, taking the break I should have taken earlier in the day.

I never did feel like cooking a proper meal, and never had much of an appetite. I ordered pizza, instead of fussing. I did remember, at some point, that my beloved had asked me if I’d make banana bread with the last two bananas, so I did that. It turned out splendidly well. I used the Better Homes & Gardens recipe, with a bit more salt than it calls for, and being generous with the walnuts. I chuckled to myself about how often it has turned out that my Dad’s “secret family recipes” have been from that cookbook. It was definitely worth the effort. The pizza was good, too. It was a simple, quiet evening.

This morning I woke from a sound sleep feeling rested, got up and started the morning. I’m sitting at the trailhead, waiting for enough daylight to see the trail on this rainy, muddy, morning and hoping for a break in the rain. The dense clouds overhead seem to tear themselves apart, a jagged gap opening to reveal the blue-gray sky of daybreak beyond. I lace up my boots.

I’m grateful for the simple joys in life. I’m grateful for these quiet morning moments of solitude and reflection. I’ve got a few days off work coming up, and I’m grateful for that too. I’m tired, and I am finding it harder these days to manage my pain; a couple days of leisure and creative time will do me good. I run my fingers through my hair, enjoying the softness of it, and watch the clouds moving away toward the horizon. No colorful sunrise this morning, but many beautiful shades of blue and gray and lovely soft shadows. I’m content with the morning as it is. It’s enough. The pain is a small detail, inconsequential compared to the beauty of the morning, just a thing to be endured.

A soft rain starts and stops, again and again. That won’t stop me, either. Like the pain, it is a small detail; I grab my rain poncho from my gear tote.

I sit awhile longer with my thoughts, savoring the moment before I begin again.

Tags ACT, banana bread recipe, be here now, be the change, begin again, breathe exhale relax, CBT, change is, create your moment, don't let the bastards grind you down, meditation, mindfulness, results may vary, self-care, self-reflection, simple joy, sit happens, solo hiking, subtext, taking in the good, verbs, walking my own path, we become what we practice, what are you practicing?, what matters

Categories breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, joy, Love, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Practices, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being

Well It’s Not Raining Now

December 16, 2024 //

In spite of it having rained through the night, this picnic table I’m sitting on had a dry spot pretty much just the right size to comfortably sit for a few minutes. I can see the full moon peeking from the clouds as they drift past, under this natural awning of evergreen boughs. Nice spot to sit awhile in the pre-dawn darkness. I turn off my headlamp and enjoy the quiet moment. Somewhere in the distance I hear traffic, and the sound of human endeavors.

“Enjoy it while you can.” I think to myself. The world is messy and complicated and frankly a little scary. Talk of curtailing banking regulations that explicitly protect consumers and the potential withdrawal of approval of the fucking polio vaccine just terrify me. (Why would anyone even want these kinds of terrible changes?!) Not gonna lie – these are trying times, and I feel it. I make a point to take time to sit, to reflect on the things in life that matter and bring me joy, and to feel gratitude for the many advances humanity has made. The risks and problems that plague us all too often get all the attention.

… It’s important to give myself a break from all that…

I grin in the darkness, swinging my feet like an excited child when I think about Giftmas. The holiday is almost here! The shopping is done. Presents are wrapped and waiting under the tree. I’m eager to share that joy with my Traveling Partner. It’s good to see his progress as he continues to recover from his injury and subsequent surgery. I find myself “missing the man that he was” much less often, because I find him standing beside me once again so much more often, now. Feels good. Feels safe and encouraging. I fucking love this man, and he has become part of me. I’ve been tremendously worried for the past year, and it feels good to finally feel some relief from my fear and worry, and to feel truly hopeful again.

The moon appears again, fat and round and luminous, as if to say “I see you”. A spattering of raindrops fall from the branches overhead, shaken loose by the breeze. My heart feels full of goodness and hope and gratitude, and it’s a lovely feeling to start the day with. I glance at the time. It’s a work day. Time to get back on the path and head back to the car. Time to begin again.

Tags awake and aware, be here now, be kind, be present, be the change, begin again, breathe exhale relax, caregiving, gratitude, managing anxiety in a scary world, meditation, Merry Giftmas, p.s. I love you, practicing the practices, results may vary, savor the moment, see the progress, self-care, sit happens, stay on the path, there are verbs involved, vaccines work

Categories Allegories, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Menopause, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, The Art of Being, War and News of War

A New Day Ahead

September 27, 2024 //

I woke feeling rested and positive. I sit quietly, now, at the rain-soaked trailhead waiting for daybreak, and enough light to safely walk the rainy trail before work. It’s quiet here, as if the whole world sleeps. Like so many things we may think we perceive, it is an illusion.

I use the night settings on my camera to see the “meadow” between me and the river out of view beyond the trees on the far side. It’s no meadow, now, (it’s been mowed and plowed) and I wonder if it’s been “so long” since I was last here? I really don’t think so. Change is. Sometimes it’s an overnight thing. Sometimes it comes at me much more slowly.

I remind myself of errands I need to run today. While I remember them, I write them down. I need to pull a painting out of storage for shipment; it recently sold. I need to get my suitcase for my upcoming trip to the coast for a few days of painting. I’m exhausted, again, physically and emotionally, and I definitely need this downtime. A chance to sleep whenever I sleep, until I wake, with no agenda or commitments on my time besides my own attention on my self-care and my pastels. The sea air will do me good. I’m eager to spend time focused on art and self reflection, meditation, writing, and rest. Damn, do I ever need the rest. Wednesday evening seems simultaneously very soon and very far away. Four more work shifts. Six more days.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I’m enjoying the rainy morning. It reminds me I need to get out into the garden and clean it up for winter. I couldn’t keep up with juggling work, household tasks, and caregiving, and the garden got left behind. It’s untidy and wild. This weekend? Maybe. I pause and add a note to my list of shit that needs to get done. It’s a long list. I’m struggling to stay caught up. The Anxious Adventurer is some help, and i am grateful, but there’s so much more to do than he even knows to think of. lol

… I’m so tired. I worry sometimes that the stress of it may be shortening my life…

I pause my thoughts to add more to my list. Tasks that need to be done before I head to the coast for a couple days of not doing.

The rain begins to fall steadily. Maybe no walk this morning? The sun isn’t even up yet. No way to tell. I listen to the rain fall, content to sit quietly, waiting. This moment of quiet is enough, just as it is. I breathe, exhale, and relax. Plenty of time for meditation before the work day. The rain falls. I wait. I breathe. I rest. Soon it will be time to begin again.

Tags a moment for me, be here now, be kind, be positive, begin again, breathe, CBT for pain relief, finding peace in a chaotic world, finding perspec;tive, having my own experience, I'm okay, it's fine, keep practicing, meditation, my results vary, sit happens, the map is not the world, the plan is not the reality, we become what we practice, who even am I?

Categories Allegories, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, health, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, The Art of Being

Endurance

July 17, 2024 //

Short walk. My ankle aches. My back aches. My head aches. It’s okay, it’s physical pain, and aside from that the morning is a pleasant one. I sit listening to the sound of distant traffic through the buzz and whine of my tinnitus. The sky is a threatening assortment of stormy clouds, blues and grays, but the forecast has no rain in it, just a summer warning about heat and wildfires.

I sit quietly with my thoughts. Another work day. Weirdly, I simultaneously feel surprised that it is “already Wednesday”, and also annoyed that “it’s only Wednesday”. lol Human primates are hilarious and not wholly rational about such things. Time is kinda “made up” anyway; there’s only “now“. I chuckle, entertained by my own foolishness. It’s that kind of morning.

We’re seriously the sort of creatures that would think up some dumb shit like this. 🤣

I catch myself picking at my cuticles and make myself stop. I watch the clouds move sluggishly across the sky, colors shifting as the unseen sun rises. The leaves and branches of the trees within view are tossed on a lazy breeze that I don’t feel.

… I remind myself to go by the store on my way home, later…

I had the trail to myself. The park is still deserted. It’s just me, here, on a quiet morning. On the other side of the vineyards adjacent to the park, migrant workers are already working. I wonder to myself who would do all the agricultural work, if we stopped allowing migrant workers to come here for that purpose? I don’t know many people willing to work that fucking hard for so little pay. Another solution would be to pay farm workers a living wage… But I don’t know many people who could afford what groceries would cost then, and I am damned sure the big food conglomerates aren’t going to trim back their profits. It’s a hell of a problem. I think about it pointlessly for some minutes. I have no solutions to offer.

… Human greed is some ugly shit…

My mind wanders this morning and I don’t make any particular effort to be more disciplined. I sit quietly and let the thoughts pass through my awareness without interfering. (Breathe.) It feels good to enjoy the stillness. (Exhale.) These few solitary moments are so precious. (Relax .) I savor the quiet time alone with my thoughts. I try but fail to recall quite when my tinnitus developed and when it became so bad… I feel certain I didn’t have it as a child. I definitely had it when my Traveling Partner and I got together. My outburst of laughter makes me choke on my coffee – that’s “only” a span of some 35 fucking years or so to sift through! lol

… The clock ticks on…

Things are starting to settle down at home. The Anxious Adventurer is moved in. The household is pretty much restored to order. New routines are beginning to develop. I feel genuinely comfortable with taking a couple days away for myself, knowing my injured Traveling Partner won’t be alone. 11 days? 11 days left to wait. I’m counting them down. I’m excited to spend some time alone with my thoughts and my pastels and see what comes of it.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s an ordinary enough Wednesday, and a pleasant summer morning. I don’t need much more than this; it’s enough. I glance at the time and think briefly of work. It’s not yet time…soon though. Another day, another beginning, another opportunity to be the human being I most want to be.

… Another chance to begin again.

Tags be here now, be who you are, Beginning Again, breathe exhale relax, do you?, enjoy the sunrise, grieving is a process, meditation, new journeys, new normal, practicing non-attachment, practicing the practices, self-care, self-reflection, sit happens, taking care of me, there's only now, what are you practicing?, what are you waiting for?, what does normal even mean?, your results may vary

Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being

Lessons and Metaphors

May 20, 2024 //

This bit of downtime is giving me quite a lot to reflect on. I’ve caught myself chuckling over that more than once, since I got here with plenty upon which to reflect, as it was.

I slept badly last night, restless and wakeful, dreaming that I was awake even when I did manage to sleep. I was cold for a long while, in spite of a warm sleeping bag, blankets, and layers. I was too tired to do anything much about the sensation (and I was pretty sure it was mostly in my head). I lay awake, often, thinking about other cold nights in tents. lol Fucking dumb, and pointless. Definitely not helpful.

I finally managed a deep restful sleep after the Party People at the site next to mine stopped drinking and fucking, sometime around midnight. I knew what I could expect when they rolled in: two cars, two couples, one tent and a cooler, no gear, and three shopping bags of grab-n-go snacks, and many six packs of hard cider. lol Based on the coughing and giggling, they were probably also getting high af. Don’t misunderstand me, here, I’m not criticizing the choice to spend a night outside partying with friends. I just found the lack of preparedness for a basic outdoor experience a little funny. And also… they were keeping me awake. lol

…I pause to put more wood on my camp fire…

So many lessons to be learned in one mortal lifetime. I wonder if I will ever get through them all? What does a passing grade look like on life’s final exam? What would it mean to be the best student “in the class”?

I watch the fire crackling away, feeling the heat of the fire and the chill of the evening depending on which way the wind is blowing. There’s a metaphor there, and something deeper to understand. I sit with my thoughts awhile.

My morning coffee was so good, warming and welcoming, I made three cups before I hit the trail for my morning hike along the lake, to the edge of the dunes. The views were splendid. I am camping in time to see the wild rhododendrons in bloom! I hadn’t expected that. Delightful.

I’ve pushed myself so hard getting prepared, packed, and getting set up once I got here, I ended up taking it pretty easy today. One mile and a half walk along an easy trail at a very relaxed pace, taking pictures of flowers, and the rest of the day mostly meditation. I got a bit of the rest I needed in the quiet hours between check-out time and check-in time, napping while the sun warmed the tent. It was wonderful and felt quite luxurious.

I took time to prepare for the rain the forecast says is likely tomorrow… Maybe we’ll get another solar storm and some warmer days instead? (Wishful thinking.)

I sit quietly. Contented, if a bit chilly. I think about adding a sweater and base layers, and making a cup of tea… the journey is the destination – and I’m here, now.

Tags a seat by the fire, be here now, begin again, being prepared, breathe exhale relax, making time for me, meditation, Oregon coast, Oregon dunes, self-care, sit happens, the plan is not the experience, walking my own path, where does this path lead?

Categories breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Practices, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, Uncategorized

Banana Bread

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Well It’s Not Raining Now

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A New Day Ahead

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Endurance

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Lessons and Metaphors

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