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What I Thought I Meant

February 4, 2025 //
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I went to bed with a headache. I woke up with a headache. It’s not even unusual anymore, and as close to “permanent” as chronic seems to get. I mostly have this headache. It’s not what I want to have on my mind, this morning, but here I am sipping my coffee and thinking through (and about) this headache. Like so many things, it is what it is (nothing more, nothing less, and only that).

I breathe, exhale, relax. I double-check that I actually took my pain medication this morning; it does nothing much for the headache, really, but not taking it would definitely contribute to making the headache worse. I get up, stretch, get more coffee. The office coffee is pretty mediocre, but this morning it isn’t actually bad. That’s something. I take a minute to appreciate that, and to be grateful. How much longer will coffee even be affordable? Or… available at all? Will I live to see coffee fade into obscurity, a legengary delight of a bygone era? I know I’ll live to see it become more expensive, perhaps unaffordably so for someone of modest means, such as I am. What strange disturbing times we live in. It saddens me, and I let my sorrow and rage wash over me momentarily before I sigh and make a point to let it go. It’s a work day, there are other things that need my attention.

A shadow of myself.

Another breath, another moment, another thought. The morning sunshine casts my shadow on the bare wall beyond the desk. “Nothing to see here,” I chuckle to myself and my shadow.

…This headache, though…

Valentine’s Day is coming. I’ve said this about that. On the other hand, my beloved Traveling Partner actually has made a practice of getting me a gift and taking a moment to honor the sentiment of the day with me, every year for rather a long while. I enjoy that time together. I enjoy celebrating love in an authentic and romantic way. Last year was… not any of that sweet stuff. lol No idea why, it just wasn’t a great day. “Human” is not always easy and our path is neither paved nor even.

I sigh to myself. I’ve got a lot to be grateful for – even this headache does not diminish that. I sip my coffee grateful for love, most especially. (I wonder what my Traveling Partner got me for Valentine’s Day…?) I turn my thoughts to work. It’s time to begin again – already.

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Categories 2024 Election, Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being, winter

Better & Worse

January 23, 2025 //
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I slept badly last night. I woke to the full brightness of my artificial sunrise (which usually wakes me much sooner, in soft dim light). My routine was thrown off by the addition of putting in my new hearing aids, which I’m not yet super skilled at, and doing it felt clumsy. My long hair and glasses complicate that a bit; it’s necessary to brush my hair before I put in my hearing aids – but brushing my hair is often “the last thing I do”, and I’d set things up such that the hearing aids were “too soon” in my routine (thinking I’d put them in right after I put on my glasses). lol Being fond of routines and habits has a downside; the plan needs to account for the realities of my lived experience. So. I found myself mentally rearranging my morning routine – during my morning routine – and the end result was that I forgot my computer glasses when I left for work. Fucking hell.

…The hearing aids work very well, though, so there’s that…

The drive to the office was ordinary enough, though I’m still getting used to the “convenience” of hearing things so differently. Even car sounds, like the seatbelt warning ding, are quite different, and not just “louder”. Interesting. It’s somewhat similar to the experience of getting new glasses after needing glasses for awhile. There’s a certain awe and wonder to the level of additional detail. (I also need new glasses…)

When my Traveling Partner wakes and sends me a text message, the notification reaches me through the hearing aids, which are paired with my phone. I rather stupidly had the volume almost all the way up, because without the hearing aids, that’s what it took to get my attention – and I still missed tons of messages, because I just wasn’t noticing the notifications. Well, that’s not a problem now! I chuckled and turned the volume way down, fairly delighted that I can stop compulsively checking for missed messages, now, being able to count on hearing the notification each time.

…Pretty mundane stuff, eh?…

I sip my coffee and take a moment for myself before I start getting caught up on work. My back aches in spite of taking pain medication for that. I shrug to myself grateful that I’m not yet experiencing eye strain from wearing the wrong glasses. It’s a very human experience. This fragile vessel isn’t in the shape it once was, and various components are needing attention, or assistance. My thoughts wander briefly to “how much longer?” but I don’t linger there – I know I won’t live forever, but I’ve no desire to drag the end closer to my “now” moment. I hear the phrase “death and taxes” in my thoughts and roll my eyes; it is time to do the taxes. Apparently I’d rather think about death. LOL Humans are weird. I breathe, exhale, and relax. This moment here, with my coffee and my inbox, is quite enough for now. I pull my attention back to “now”.

It’s still quite early, and I have the office to myself for the time being. It’s pleasantly quiet, although it sounds quite different in many little ways. I listen to the ventilation, the hum of distant machinery, and the subjective “silence” of this space. It’s not silent at all. It’s not even actually “quiet” – I just perceive this experience as “quiet” because it is not filled with the chaos of human voices. I sip my coffee, content and grateful. This is enough – even with the wrong glasses on. 😀 I look out the window into the pre-dawn darkness. Daybreak soon. I turn off the office light, too better see the day begin. The light of my monitors is enough to work by.

I feel incredibly grateful and fortunate. I’ve got a partnership I can count on, with a human being I quite adore. I’ve got a good job that keeps the bills paid, and the pantry stocked. I’ve got decent healthcare, and what it doesn’t cover is mostly handled by the VA when I need something more. I’ve got good friends and good colleagues. I’ve got this pleasant moment right here, and the hope that I’ll see many many more. It adds up to a pretty good experience. I sit with that awareness awhile. It’s been a worthy journey so far – and there’s further to go.

…It’s time to begin again…

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, joy, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, The Art of Being, winter

To Sleep, Perchance to… Sleep.

January 19, 2025 //
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I woke from a restless slumber to a note from my Traveling Partner letting me know he hadn’t been sleeping well, himself. Sometimes that’s how it is. He doesn’t need me to rush back from breakfast with The Author, nor bring him an interesting bite of brunch from a favorite local restaurant. Maybe just make him some scrambled eggs later, he suggests. Easy enough.

I dress for another cold morning. 25°F this morning, definitely a winter morning. It’s clear and icy and I drive to the trailhead still thinking about my dreams. The evening went later than it typically does (for me), and although my sleep was restless, it was filled with dreams and I slept past my usual waking time. I’m not complaining; my dreams were more thought provoking than distressing, and I clearly needed the sleep. My dreams seemed filled with personal significance and reminders of important things, but now they are slipping away, leaving behind only colorful surreal remnants, and an incoherent recollection. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I let them go. They’re only dreams.

I lace up my boots for my walk down the frosty path. I’ve got my cane, and my headlamp. I open my gear tote in the back of the Mazda, and pull out my hat, scarf, and gloves. My writing will be done before I walk and after I return, from the warmth of the car. It is too cold for sitting at the midway point writing in the darkness of the morning. The cold path beckons me, and I go…

… I stepped along the path briskly in the cold. The frost sparkled everywhere that my light hit it. So beautiful! So cold. My thoughts stayed quite practical, fixed upon the moment of cold quiet darkness. The path was icy in spots. I walked with care but didn’t slow my pace any more than necessary for safety. I was ready to be done with it before I reached my halfway point, and considered turning back again and again, until turning back had finally become likely to be further than any sort of shortcut. Then, I simply pressed on with determination, ready to be done with it.

I think thoughts about the delightful time I am spending with The Author. Making it an annual thing is discussed. It sounds like a great plan. I grin, thinking about our visit to Powell’s yesterday, and their rare book room. Wonderful! I feel the warmth of my friend’s affection all over again remembering his gift – a book I am wanting to read, in an unusual edition. I’m moved, and grateful. I’m fortunate to have the friends I do. This friendship is special, indeed.

When the path finally turns me back to head towards the eastern horizon, I see an ever so faint hint of pale orange painted across the sky, clinging the the ground and silhouetting the distant trees. The sky began to lighten, a new day becoming more real each moment.

By the time I reached the car, I’m quite grateful to be at the end of my brief journey. Soon enough, coffee and a bite of breakfast with an old friend. We make good conversation and have not yet exhausted the many things we’d hoped to catch up on. I hope we find breakfast worth lingering over, and something to do to occupy us sufficiently long to let my beloved sleep awhile more. I sigh and warm my hands.

…A good time to begin again…

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Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, joy, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, The Art of Being

Ring Zing Buzz

January 4, 2025 //
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My tinnitus is super loud this morning. Distracting. Annoying. I breathe, exhale, and relax, as I absentmindedly rub my left trapezius muscle, up near my neck… Or is it my sternocleidomastoid? That general area. Feels like it is carved of stone and most of the time also a prominent source of day-to-day pain. I see one of my care providers today. He’s very skilled and I am hopeful that I’ll have a few hours or a couple days of real relief before my fucked up neck recreates the painful circumstances all over again. I’ve grown resigned to accepting that it is simply the byproduct of an old neck injury, combined with progressing degenerative disk disease (C3-C4 mostly and cervical arthritis from C5 on up to C1). It sucks and it’s painful, but, and this is important and real, it could be worse.

I walked down the trail listening to the crunch of boots on pea gravel, and I focused on the external sounds around me; it helps push the tinnitus into the background some. I got to a pleasant spot along the river to sit for a moment. The world is quiet and from here I can’t hear the traffic on the nearby highway at all. Whether this is an atmospheric phenomenon, a lack of traffic, or hearing loss is not clear to me, and maybe not even relevant to this pleasant moment. There’s a strip of color, not quite orange, on the eastern horizon, peeking between hillsides, silhouetting the trees on the far bank where the river bends. I have the trail and the park to myself this morning, alone with my thoughts (and my tinnitus, and my pain). Well… mostly…

I sit quietly as a rather large raccoon waddles past. She gives me a look and hesitates a moment before proceeding. I sit still and watch her discreetly from my peripheral vision hoping not to discourage her and choking back a laugh remembering the desk sign my Traveling Partner made for me (“most likely to be eaten by something she shouldn’t be petting”). As the raccoon continues past she’s followed by 2…3…4…5 chubby fuzzy youngsters, one of whom appears eager to get a closer look at me. Mom looks back and lifts herself on her back legs and makes sounds that clearly manage to communicate “Damn it, leave that human alone, you have no idea where that thing has been! Come on, we don’t have time for this.” It’s super hard not to giggle but I really don’t want to alarm Mama Raccoon – she’s pretty big, and I’m definitely not up for defending myself from an angry or frightened raccoon; they are not to be trifled with.

She walks on with her youngsters following, heading down the river bank. I walk on, too, heading back up the trail toward the parking lot. It’s daybreak. Good time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Practices, solo hiking, The Art of Being, winter

Whatever Your Plan Was

December 28, 2024 //
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I’m sitting at the trailhead listening to the rain fall, still hoping for a break in the rain sufficient to get a walk in without also getting soaked. I listen to the traffic drive by on the nearby highway. I observe the gleaming wet stripe of asphalt that crosses the view. The fields on the other side of the highway are in a low spot, as is the marsh behind me, and each year the fields and marsh flood in the winter rainy season, closing the lowland marsh trail and creating a vast shallow lake where the fields are. I had planned to walk the marsh trail. I’ll take the year-round trail for the rest of the rainy season. Different trail, different view; reality doesn’t care about my plans. lol

Lights reflected off a seasonal lake, before dawn.

I’m enjoying the quiet. I’m unconcerned about the rain. Circumstances change and change again, it’s best to enjoy things as they are whenever possible. Some people struggle to find joy. I used to be one of those. Turns out it is surprisingly easy to change that in favor of becoming a person who easily finds joy in the moment. It does take some practice, and it’s not really something that can be faked. I breathe, exhale, and relax, noticing again the quiet of the morning and enjoying it.

Maybe today I’ll do some painting before the clock runs out on the holiday season and the year?

I notice how much my neck is hurting and how loud my tinnitus seems. I shrug off my discomfort, because I also notice that the rain has stopped, and there is, for now, clear sky overhead. I grab my headlamp from where I leave it hanging from the gearshift, and my boots from the floor on the passenger side of the car. The weather is quite mild, although rainy, and it’s a good morning to walk, in spite of the darkness. I smile to myself, finding joy in this moment, too. It’s a good moment to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, joy, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Practices, solo hiking, The Art of Being
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