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Something, Something Else

September 15, 2024 //
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I was complaining yesterday about my early morning “me time” being interrupted and trying to communicate the way that has potential to undermine my self-care, generally. I didn’t recognize it at the time, but I did get through to my Traveling Partner, who was subsequently very considerate about my time this morning, although he is excited to talk about a tool he’d like to have and a choice opportunity to obtain it that developed last night. I feel very loved and “heard”. I remind myself to say so and express my appreciation.

… This morning I overslept…

I headed to the nearby local trail I favor, for my morning walk, just in case I may later be driving a distance for a tool. Love is funny like that; I’d do most anything to see my partner smile, even drive a long way on a short weekend, to look at a tool.

… Funny thing… I got to the trailhead ahead of the sun, eager for a peaceful satisfying walk with my thoughts… Humans. Shit. Two vehicles parked askew in my usual spot. I don’t own it, so… Shit happens, eh? Public place. I park on the other side of the parking lot and start meditating as I wait for the sun. One vehicle starts it engine and idles awhile. (Are you kidding me!?) It’s a biiig Cummins diesel with a nasty whine to it. Fucking loud. It’s hard to meditate. Or think. Fucking noisy humans. Finally. The truck drives away. Minutes later the aggressively well-cared for sports car that was parked alongside the truck starts it’s engine, high beams shining in my eye, and idles awhile. (Are you fucking kidding me with this rude-ass bullshit?! What the hell?) I sigh irritably and wait it out. They leave, too, and I’m finally alone with the stillness of morning… until another early riser shows up, parks right next to me, and begins unloading dogs to walk the trail, too. FFS. G’damn it. Life is clearly teaching me a lesson this morning.

It’s not quite daybreak and she walks away, with her headlamp on. Damn that’s a lot of dogs for so early in the morning. lol

I move my car over to my preferred parking spot. No bright streetlight overhead, better view of the treeline on the far side of the meadow. I begin again.

It’s a new day. Enjoy it.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I sit quietly with my thoughts. I meditate while I wait for the sun. I wonder about the day ahead while I lace up my boots and grab my cane. Change is. Our expectations are not the reality. The map is not the world. We’re each walking our own mile and having our own experience. Circumstances are what they are; how we understand them, and what we feel and think and choose to do are within our control. We have choices. Results may vary. The journey is the destination.

There’s enough light now to see the trail ahead, until it turns the bend into the darkness among the trees. It’s definitely time to begin again – this path won’t walk itself. 😀

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

Practicing

September 11, 2024 //
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There was a misty rain falling when I got to the trailhead before daybreak. I don’t mind that. It had rained rather heavily at several points during the night, too, and I didn’t mind that either. My sleep was restless and unsatisfying, and I didn’t get enough of it. The household seemed noisy until almost midnight. I struggled to return to sleep each time I woke. I feel fine this morning. Eager to get a walk in along the damp marsh-side trail. It’s a short drive to the office from this nature park, and that’s where I’ll be working today. In general, the day is off to a good start, though seeing it through that lens is largely a matter of practice over time. (It wasn’t all that long ago that a restless night followed by a drizzly morning would likely have found me exceedingly irritated with life and wholly unpleasant to be around.)

…I keep practicing…

A rainy dawn, a new day.

Daybreak comes and I swap my shoes for boots, and grab my cane. I finish off my iced coffee and double check that I have my water bottle ready. I breathe the rain-fresh air and sigh contentedly, stretching before I head down the trail.

Practices come in all sizes. Changing the things I practice in life has done a lot to change my quality of life, my thinking, and my perspective. I’m more resilient. I am calmer. I bounce back from stress more easily and more quickly. I still have challenges. I still have to deal with my own bullshit and baggage. I’m very human. Trauma has changed me over the course of a lifetime and there’s no knowing who I might have been without it. There’s no “going back” – but it hardly matters when I remember that all my choices are ahead of me when I am present in this moment, awake, aware, and ready to begin again any time I fail myself or fall short of living my values. Failures are part of life.

I smile at the cloudy gray sky thinking about how best to capture those hues in pastel. This is a worthy moment to be here, now, and I embrace it. I breathe, exhale, relax, and begin again.

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, art and the artist, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being

Savoring Each Moment of Joy

September 3, 2024 //
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Here it is, a Tuesday. First day back to work after a long weekend that actually felt long. It was a delightful weekend in the company of my Traveling Partner. Evenings shared with the Anxious Adventurer, too, after his work days were done. It was pretty nice all around. It is satisfying to see my partner continuing to improve and recover after surgery (though he is less satisfied, because progress feels so slow).

A new day begins now.

I am starting the day with that “song in my heart” feeling. It’s quite wonderful. I made a point to set things up for my partner at home to make his morning easy, and slipped away into the pre-dawn darkness. The Anxious Adventurer has an early start at work this morning, and has been making great progress with being quiet and considerate in the mornings. I’m hopeful that my Traveling Partner will be able to sleep in and get more of the rest he needs. He’ll have a quiet house for a few hours.

As soon as there is enough daylight, I hit the trail and get a short walk in. Short this morning because I’ve got work and getting an early start gets me home earlier…

…An early ping from my Traveling Partner upends my careful planning. He woke, and can’t find his glasses. Recent experience suggests they may have fallen into a gap between the mattress and headboard, and if so he won’t be able to see or reach them. He asks for my help and if course I don’t mind working from home; I prefer it. I assure him I’m on my way and head back up the trail to the car.

… It’s time to begin again. Change is.

No, seriously – change is a thing. Reliably.

Later…

I’m at the office. Funny story… well, not really, but for context; my Traveling Partner found his glasses. He’d knocked them to the floor, but they were within reach once he spotted them. Difficult, but not (apparently) completely outside the realm of possibility… because he got it done. He alerted me. We chatted awhile, and I resumed my plan for the day with minimal delay. Hilariously, I still feel “more than connected” with him, presently. I feel alert for his outreach, sensitive to the idea he may yet need me, and I’ve got a persistent sensation of having “half an eye on my phone” for incoming messages. My full (very – it’s a Tuesday) meeting calendar today limits the ease with which I could promptly return home (following an almost hour-long commute), but I settled my nerves by alerting my work team of the potential, and then I just… let it go. It’s fine. Routine. Human.

…Fuck I love my Traveling Partner so deeply and so enduringly that even my lingering hang ups and baggage regarding time and timing are nothing compared to my love, and my willingness to come to his aid on a moment’s notice.

Change is. The journey is the destination. There’s no point getting overly invested in the details of a plan, or in expectations or assumptions about how things may go or what the future holds. Breathe. Exhale. Relax. Roll with it. Practice non-attachment and practice not taking shit personally, and life becomes so much less prone to OPD (Other People’s Drama) and disappointment. Go ahead – be daring – just be.

Isn’t right now a fine time to begin again?

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Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5

Shades of Gray

September 2, 2024 //
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There’s a dense misty rain falling this morning, here at the trailhead. It’s not enough to keep me off the trail. I’m grateful for the rain poncho that I keep in the car with my boots and gear that I like to have on hand “just in case”. I’m not in any particular hurry. It’s a holiday Monday and, with the drizzle this morning, I have the trail (and the park) to myself. I take my time enjoying it.

The grays and greens of a rainy summer morning have their own beauty.

The scents of the park are different on a morning like this. Petrichor. The birds are more plentiful and a bit noisier. I hear a different assortment of birdcalls. The minimal traffic on the highway nearby creates a hushed background noise, tires on wet pavement, that sounds almost like the wind in distant trees, or waves on an unseen shore. The tiny misty raindrops make no noise. They cover everything quietly, silently soaking surfaces, and making everything more damp than actually wet. “Good for the garden”, I think to myself, but it may not be raining there; it wasn’t raining when I left the house.

I listen to the sound of my breathing, and my tinnitus. There have been pretty clear signs lately that I may be developing a real hearing impairment. I’ve made an appointment with an audiologist. I find myself wondering if all of this head and neck shit is related… the hearing, the tinnitus, the headache, the degenerative disk disease, the eustachian tube dysfunction, the weird whatever the fuck is going on with my collar bone… Probably not, but g’damn – I’d very much like to get it all sorted out and at least have a clear accurate understandable diagnosis. It would be something to work with.

… These fragile fucking meat suits in which we reside are disappointingly unreliable and prone to failure over time…

I just keep walking. Breathing. Practicing. Living my life has become a thing I have learned to embrace with a certain joy, in spite of pain, aging, and whatever bullshit and baggage I am dragging along. There’s always plenty of that to go around, I can at least enjoy my life and treat myself with kindness.

I enjoyed a pretty splendid day with my Traveling Partner, yesterday. We shared the day shopping online for a tool he was wanting. It was tremendous fun. When the Anxious Adventurer returned home from work, I made a hearty fairly healthy dinner for the three of us (although I went a bit overboard on the portions). It was well-received and there are leftovers for lunch today. None of this is particularly noteworthy by itself, it’s just lovely to feel life returning to a more comfortable commonplace emotional “atmosphere” as my partner continues to recover from his surgery. Encouraging and a huge relief; we humans too easily assume that whatever things are like in this moment now somehow says something about future moments or represents some kind of ongoing state of being. That’s rarely the case, good or bad. Change is.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. My arthritis is griefing me hardcore this morning. No surprise; it’s rainy. Damp. Humid. Of course I hurt. I check the time and take appropriate medication. Best to get ahead of it, so I can more easily enjoy the day with my Traveling Partner once I return home.

… It’s still raining. Daybreak has come and the sun has risen, though the only confirmation is the lighter gray of the sky and the visibility, limited only by the misty rain and not at all by darkness. I’ve got my boots on. I’ve got my cane by my side. I’ve got my rain gear ready to put on as soon as I step out of the car. Nice quiet morning to walk a favorite trail along the river and the marsh. I guess it’s time to get on with it…

It’s a good time to begin again.

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

Making Time for What Matters

August 29, 2024 //
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I’m sitting at the trailhead, waiting for the sun. There’s an owl somewhere very close,   and I listen to it’s calls in the pre-dawn darkness. The sky is clear and starry, with a pale small crescent moon visible. A breeze stirs the tops of the tallest meadow grasses, but it’s not enough to move the trees on the horizon in any way I can see from here. I sit quietly with my thoughts. Waiting is. I’ve become rather good at it over a lifetime.

I am thinking about time and timing and wondering how best to make time for art and for painting in such a busy period in my life… I definitely need to figure it out. I was severely grumpy yesterday evening, and only partly because I was uncomfortable from pain and annoyed by the challenges of eustachian tube dysfunction and the possible loss of perceived hearing on one side. I was also grumpy because…

I very much want to be painting. I’m itching to pick up the pastels again and feeling inspired, daily… and I can’t seem to find even a few minutes of this precious limited mortal lifetime to call my own (besides these quiet minutes in the early morning, already spent on needed self-care). I’m not bitching that there are things to be done and that I must do them. It’s more that I am irritated that the days feel so short. By the time all the things that simply must get done have been done, I am too tired for anything more than a shower and an early bedtime.

… I could do a better job of setting my priorities perhaps, or explicitly asking for help from the Anxious Adventurer…

… It’s fine. It’s temporary. I’m carrying the load for two people in so many ways right now. It’s important to note how much I really am getting done. How well I am managing it. But…yeah… I’m letting myself down in this one important way, and struggling to resolve that sometimes has me feeling really cross and also pretty fucking invisible. No one else seems to notice anything “wrong”, so long as the dishes are done, the laundry is kept caught up, and all the errands are run.

I sigh quietly with frustration, then silently acknowledge that I subtly sabotage myself on this one by enduring conditions silently (most of the time) without speaking up about my needs. Would it even matter? Oh fuck yes, it would. It does. I know this because yesterday evening I did speak up – and did it without yelling or tears or any sort of tantrum. I just said I really want to make time to paint and that I was struggling to do that because there always seems to be more expected or needed from me. My Traveling Partner made eye contact with me, looked thoughtful, and made it clear he really heard me. He suggested he might already be up to short trips out of the house, if not now, then soon..? He asked me what I need. I replied that I don’t need him to be gone. I do want to be able to set things aside and focus on art for a little while is all. He gently assured me that if I make it clear I am taking time to paint or draw or work creatively, he would not make demands on my time until I was finished. Wow. I feel heard and supported. It feels really good. And…

…Well, shit… That does leave it up to me to manage my time, set and manage expectations about what I am doing, and to follow through with and for myself. It puts my agency in my own hands… which means the choice is mine. (Maybe it has been all along?) So… Okay. Maybe tonight? After work. After dinner. I feel excited and eager. Hopeful. A little bit timid. Do I have the strength of will to choose myself over the dishes now and then? I sit in the morning darkness thinking about will and freedom and choices and responsibility. I think about agency. I think about love. It’s a nice morning for thoughts and for self-care.

… It’s important to recognize whether circumstances are holding me back… or I am. I sit with that thought until daybreak.

Here it comes, a whole new day.

It is a new day. I can choose differently. I can do more to take care of myself, and enjoy my life. I can make choices that allow me to thrive vs merely surviving while supporting hearth and home. I can invest some of my time in more of the things that matter most to me. When I get the balance wrong (and I will), I can begin again. Like today.

I smile and think about my Traveling Partner, and how much he clearly loves me. I lace up my boots, and grab my cane. It’s time to walk a mile or two and watch another sunrise. It’s time to begin, again.

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Categories Allegories, Art, art and the artist, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Summer, The Art of Being, Words
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