Archives for posts with tag: walk on

I woke from a deep sound sleep, surprised that it was “already” morning. The lights in the room had reached full brightness before my alarm woke me. This surprises me, but does not cause any anxiety; even waking with my alarm does not create any condition of “lateness”, it’s simply unusual for me to sleep to that point without waking on my own to some sound or perception of movement in the house (that may or may not be real). I get up, dress, and move through my morning routine until my feet carry me across the threshold of the front door, and out into the world. Hopefully, I managed not to wake anyone, but my Traveling Partner is a relatively light sleeper, and it is often the case that my departure (or some noise as I was dressing) will wake him, if not for the day for some little while. (I hope he slept; he needs the rest.)

I made the drive to the co-work space, as much for the time spent in thought as for any characteristic of being in an office. I’d happily work from home every day (and I’m set up for it, and have a job that expects it), but circumstances being what they are, and faced with the demands of basic consideration, and also just not liking having to “deal with people” first thing after I wake… it’s just easier to go somewhere else for a few hours, if not for the entire day, at least for the morning portion of it. I do everything I can to create some solitary time for myself to properly wake up, drink some coffee, and sort myself out before I interact with other people. I do everything I can to give my Traveling Partner that same opportunity. I consider it a matter of courtesy, but it is also entirely self-serving; I dislike drama or conflict when I’m “still waking up” even more than I dislike interacting with other people at that delicate hour, which is really saying something. The most effective means of avoiding all that is to be somewhere else, preferably where other people aren’t.

The co-work space is quiet. It’s early. I’m alone. There’s only the soft clicking of my fingers dancing across the keyboard, and the background noise of the ventilation. I sip my coffee (iced) and alternate with a hot cup of tea (chamomile & rose, with a bit of honey) to sooth my throat. My head aches, but it could be worse. My arthritis is griefing me, but again – I’ve had worse days than this. I am still fighting lingering symptoms of having been ill… and it’s been just a bit more than two weeks, now. (I knew what I was in for when the ick moved from my sinuses into my throat, then into my chest. I’ll fight this shit for weeks more, probably.) These fucking meat sacks are fragile and bothersome…but life, as it is, offers few alternatives. lol It is what we make of it. I chuckle to myself. I know damned well it could be so much worse. I breathe, exhale, and relax. Sip my coffee. Sip my tea. Think my thoughts.

2025 is nearly over. Good times, and hard times, we’ve seen some things, haven’t we? Wow. Another year over… another new year about to begin.

…the new year is a blank page…

I think for a bit about how easy it is to be down on each other – or ourselves – when things are going poorly, or in some moment of vexation or conflict. We may say some pretty terrible things to people we care for deeply, in some moment of anger or frustration. I’m not excusing that; bad behavior does not benefit from excuse-making. Better to correct it, once identified. We’re each human beings, being human, though, and it is true that hurt people often hurt people. We develope “coping skills” over a lifetime to deal with trauma and petty bullshit, and often don’t reevaluate those behaviors later in our lives when they are clearly no longer ideal (or possibly not even appropriate). Being kind, considerate, and gracious take practice. Saying “I’m sorry” takes practice. Being open and listening deeply take practice. Being an uplifting presence in our relationships instead of a chronically sarcastic buzzkill takes practice. For any one of us to become the human being we most want to be, there is a requirement that we do the work involved in changing who we may already have become at some point in the past. It is necessary to change. That all sounds really obvious… and I guess it mostly is, but…

…Sometimes when we’re stressed or feeling down about ourselves in some moment, we lose track of the real value we bring to our experience, and to the lives of those with whom we are “sharing the journey”. We overlook our value in our relationships. We have so much unrealized potential as human beings, each one of us, but when we are mired in harsh words, hurt feelings, emotional baggage, past trauma and present regrets, we wander around in a fog of hurt and sorrow feeling “stuck” and lacking options. It’s an illusion. We have value as individuals, and unique perspective and our own experience of life and the world.

If you’re having one of those moments when you can’t find meaning in your life, or don’t feel that your existence has value, or you are feeling overlooked, ignored, disregarded – whether for a moment or a lifetime – it is within your power to change that experience! Take time to appreciate you – who you are, where you’ve come from, how far you’ve come over time. Think about times you’ve made someone laugh, or lifted them up when they were blue – how often have you been there for someone? Reflect on the moments of joy and of delight, however small; they are yours to keep and to cherish. Spending more time on those than on the things you’re irked by is a good step forward. Reflect on the things you do well. Savor the details of some pleasant moment, however inconsequential. You are not defined by someone else’s anger, frustration, or expectations. You get to live your own life, and you are having your own experience. However disrespected you may feel by some other person, ideally you can always count on being respected by the person in the mirror. Treat yourself well, with consideration and respect. Give yourself a moment to be heard – by the person you, yourself, are. This isn’t groundbreaking new thinking, just some suggestions for lifting yourself out of a funk when you’re feeling low (because frankly sometimes people can be dicks, and it has nothing to do with whether you “deserved that” at all). Emotional lows are also part of the human experience (“deserved” or not). You are the surfer riding that wave – and you are also the water.

You know what you are not? You are not the sum of the negative opinions of other people. You are not defined by someone else’s anger, frustration, or disappointment. You’re also not the sum of the compliments you have received. Opinions are not the substance of reality. Who you are as a human being is defined by your actions, your choices, your behavior, and the quality of your relationships; and these are within your control. So… if you don’t like where you are in life, go somewhere else, or make changes (or both). Here we are, standing on the edge of an entire new year. This could be the beginning of something amazing! What will you do with your unrealized potential, and how will you choose your next steps? Where does your path lead? The menu in The Strange Diner is vast…you may have more options than you recognize in some moment of stress or sorrow.

I guess I’m just saying…don’t stand waste deep in the shit someone else flung at you telling yourself you have no choice but to stand there. You do have choices. You create meaning from what is otherwise meaningless – and this puts a lot of power to change your life into your own hands. You can defeat an emotional spiral threatening to suck you down into despair. You can walk away from conflict – or even heal the hurts that created it. You have more power than you know.

…And there’s a whole new year ahead…

It’s time to begin again. Where does your path lead? What will you do to become the person you most want to be, in 2026? Are you ready? The clock is ticking…

There is no map, only fellow travelers along the way willing to share a tip, or offer a warning. Listen or don’t, either way you’re making your own journey, and having your own experience. Sometimes you’ll be the dumbest person in the room. Sometimes it won’t be about you at all. Sometimes the path is clear, the way ahead smooth and steady. Other times, every day will present some new obstacle to be overcome. I guess I’m just saying…

…Keep walking (metaphorically speaking). The “way out” is through, and ultimately, the journey is the destination.

The co-work space is hushed and empty, this morning. I am alone for now, and it will be hours before anyone else shows up to do the things they do to bring home a paycheck, pay the bills, feed their families, and get by for another handful of mortal days. Yeesh. That sounds sort of gloomy, doesn’t it? I sigh to myself. I’ll admit that I’ve been yearning for some kind of retirement, or other opportunity to exit the treadmill of the modern workforce since I was… 17, and just joining the Army. Honestly, one of the selling points of that adventure was being able to “retire” at 38. I probably should have done more homework on that notion – since the practical truth of it is that very few people who retire from the military at 38 are actually able to properly retire at that point. Most go on to some second career, and work until some more typical retirement age, if they are able to retire at all. There’s no point holding back the truth of it; the military does not pay well. Those retirement benefits are often not sufficient to afford even a working-class quality of life, unless one is fortunate almost to the point of ridiculous luck, and living quite a charmed life, indeed. Again and again, I’ve looked ahead to some milestone and hoped to be done with “gainful employment” by then, only to find myself reaching that point quite unprepared to be able to retire (for a variety of reasons, some to do with me, some to do with circumstances). Our dreams and our realities don’t necessarily intersect in some fortuitous way that results in a fairytale life of leisure and good company. Mostly they don’t, actually, and we live the lives we work (sometimes too hard) to have, and we get by on some combination of circumstances and decision-making that falls short of our fantasties – that’s just real. No point being unhappy about that; reality does not care what we yearn for in our fondest daydreams. Everything we want in life has some sort of cost.

…Keep walking, and make wise choices…

I pull myself more upright, and take some deep cleansing breaths. My headache is not as bad today as it was yesterday, and I’m grateful – yesterday’s headache was much, and I got very little done as a result. My arthritis pain is what it is – and it’s winter, so what it is, is pretty awful. I shrug to myself, an expression of some combination of feeling resigned to it, and also being mostly rather unbothered by it; it has been part of my life, year after year, for close to 36 years now, slowly worsening over time. And if I had been offered a choice? Told about the arthritis is clear very certain terms? Would I have chosen not to have the surgery that kept me on my feet, and out of a wheelchair, in favor of some potential imagined future without the arthritis that would eventually develop in my spine? No, I would not have chosen to leave my shattered spine in the state it was in on some fantasy hope that it might magically heal on its own. There was no scenario – no realistic scenario – that was going to see me pain free in my 40s, 50s, and 60s. That would have been magical thinking, and the consequences would likely have been worse than any I deal with now. I’d have been seeing the world from a different vantage point, too (a wheelchair). Very few of the trails I am so fortunate to be able to enjoy walking are accessible to someone in a wheelchair. I take a moment for gratitude; I do love seeing those sunrises from the trail.

…Chronic pain is nothing if not ongoing. It could be worse, though. I got good sleep last night, and I face the new day feeling mostly pretty chill and comfortable, mostly pretty prepared. It is an ordinary enough work day, and the pain I’m in is manageable. I make a point to be grateful for that, too.

Are you making careful choices, or following along with someone else’s?

Our individual journeys are paved with our choices, our decision-making, our actions – and we’re walking a path that we largely create ourselves, moment-by-moment. Where does this path lead? Does it have any potential to take me to my goals? I sit with my coffee, reflecting on my life, my decisions, the consequences of my actions, and incremental changes over time. The new year is ahead. Am I the woman I most want to be? Are my day-to-day actions aligned with my values? Are my choices a reflection of consideration and will? Am I getting all I can out of this journey that is my lived mortal life? If I could change one detail of “who I am” effortless, like toggling a switch, what would that detail be? What would I change it to? Having identified this detail as something I’d like to change – am I prepared to then also make the choices and do the work to see it change over time? I think about how long it can take to make some kinds of changes really “stick”. It can be so much work! Sometimes the path seems unreasonably long as it stretches ahead of me. Sometimes that distance is an illusion. Your results may vary… We do become what we practice. Choose wisely.

…Keep walking…

I think about the pleasant holiday, and the weekend. I feel fortunate to have enjoyed both so thoroughly. I think about the gifts, the sweets, the moments, each so very beautiful, so delightful. We didn’t spend much (didn’t have much to spend), and that mattered not at all – it was all so well done, and there was so much love and genuine joy involved. The company was good. The food was good. The amount of consideration given to each other was exceptional. Presence definitely mattered more than presents, this year – and I’m grateful for all of it.

Stickers, and a novel I’ve never read – simple joys are worth savoring.

I sigh contentedly. I don’t need more out of this moment than I’ve already got. I’ve even got some time before work to enjoy a walk through this suburban neighborhood, still lit with holiday lights. After that? Another opportunity to begin again.

I woke too early, but there was no going back to sleep. I’m feeling generally some better, after being ill almost a week now. By afternoon I’m likely to be thinking I feel much better, but another morning will come around, and I’ll be feeling much worse… again. That’s how it’s been so far with this sickness. I feel worse first thing, better later with considerable self-care. I sigh to myself which sets off a coughing fit.

I am better, enough to walk a mile or so of this trail on this chilly, damp morning, if slowly. It is winter now, and a mild one so far, which seems fortunate. I welcome the rain. I’m glad the days aren’t freezing cold. I sip hot coffee and wait for daybreak. It is a work day, but I’m on half days this week, if I can keep up with the workload on those minimal hours. I’ll be off on Wednesday and Thursday for the Giftmas holiday.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. The weekend was restful, mostly focused on whatever housekeeping essentials I could do, and on getting well. At this point,  I definitely have some regrets about traveling for work in December. It seems like a pretty stupid idea looking back, but at the time it seemed… fine. The plan is not the experience. I remind myself of errands I’ve agreed to run today, later. My thoughts are fragmented and chaotic, each cough or sneeze becoming a distraction. I will do my best with the day ahead of me.

I sit with my thoughts awhile, waiting for the sun. There is no hurry. There is only this moment. I let that be enough.

My stuffy sinuses and foggy head distract me from noticing an actual fog developing over minutes, seeming to well up from the nearby creek bed, and gathering in the vineyard, before beginning to obscure the trail. It happens quickly, and now it is quite a foggy winter morning, though not a particularly cold one, just foggy and damp. Low hanging storm clouds on the western horizon are a luminous pale faintly orange-y glow, lit by the lights of neighborhoods below, with nearby trees silhouetted darkly against that strangely bright sky. I sip my still-hot coffee, contentedly. Sure, I’m sick, but it could be worse.

Above the clouds, the sky is clear and starry. I sit gazing on one particular bright star in the northern sky, wondering what it is. A quick lookup suggests it may be Capella, which is not ideally useful information; I know nothing about any star by that name. Having a name for it, then, barely amounts to knowledge at all! I chuckle to myself. One human being human, nothing to see here. I sigh and get ready to begin again; this trail isn’t going to walk itself, and this is as good a time to begin (again) as any.

…I wrap my scarf around my neck and step out of the car…

Happy Solstice. It’s here. The longest night of the year, the Winter Solstice, is here. Another year over. Another winter has arrived.

I woke early and considered going back to sleep, but it was obvious I’d be fighting my sinuses and rather than wake everyone else, I got up. The sun won’t rise until 07:48 this morning. Less than 9 hours later, it will set. Short day. Long night. Ah, but seasons are cycles and the wheel keeps turning. It is time once again for the days to begin growing longer. I’m grateful to see another solstice. I hope I see many more.

Something like a view.

I park at the trailhead after a drive that was eerily free of traffic. I park with a view of the eastern horizon, and of the shallow seasonal lake that develops each year in the farm fields across the highway from this nature park. In the darkness, the reflected lights of the communities beyond give the appearance of a “waterfront location”. It is a pretty illusion. I sit sipping my coffee, waiting for the first hint of the sunlight of a new day. It’s a colder morning. I’m grateful for thinking to bundle up a bit.

… another Solstice…

Yesterday was the new moon, which seems fitting. A clean slate, a new beginning, a turn of the calendar page – all ideas to do with renewal. I like that. I sit sipping a hot cup of cheap coffee in the darkness. The cup is warm in my hands. The coffee is still too hot to do more than sip it carefully. The hot liquid is soothing on my throat.

Giftmas is only days away. Presents are wrapped. The lights on the tree illuminated the living room softly as I left the house, and the recollection of that merry glow fills me with joy. I sit awhile thinking about holiday traditions and rituals. ‘Tis the season, after all. I smile when I think about the basket of sharable treats assembled and waiting to be placed on the table. I reflect on community and sharing and a moment of light and abundance, a celebration of triumph over the winter and the darkness.

My coffee becomes properly drinkable after cooling a bit. The challenge now is to drink it and enjoy it before it goes cold. I breathe, exhale, and relax, hands warmly embracing the paper cup. I meditate, enjoying the scent of the coffee, and the stillness and quiet of a Sunday Solstice morning. There is no traffic. The geese, still asleep, drift on the fields covered in shallow water and on the marsh ponds. A lone coyote darts across my view. I love this part of Oregon for the characteristics of wild and rural spaces adjacent to suburbs and towns. Seeing deer wandering through McMinnville as if they belong still delights me, and I’m alert for cototes, bobcats, deer, and racoons as I drive in the early morning. I see them often. Well, all but the bobcats, lynxes, or cougars, which are not only much more rare, but also much less inclined to enter human spaces if they can avoid doing so. It would be rare indeed to see a wild cat of any sort wandering about in town.

I sigh contentedly. The temperature is still a chilly 38°F (3.3°C). I’m grateful for my cozy sweater and my fluffy warm cardigan. I reach into the gear bin in the back of my SUV and find my wool hat, scarf, and gloves, by feel and pull them out. It’s definitely cold enough for putting on a scarf and hat. The gloves would once have been left behind in favor of shoving my hands into my pockets, but I reliably take my cane along these days, so gloves are no longer optional on cold mornings, if I hope to keep my hands warm.

I bundle up, saving my gloves for last to finish this bit of writing. My left foot is griefing me with a bit of tendonitis, and I am wondering how far I’ll really go, today, but I don’t give up on the walk completely. I remind myself to stop by the storage unit and get more (better) pictures of an item we’re hoping to sell, and maybe take a load of smaller stuff over to the new unit. I’ll spend the day mostly creating order from chaos (doing housework) and writing to far away friends, and listening to holiday music.

A little more light, a little more view.

I notice that I can now see the ground pretty easily, although dawn is still almost 20 minutes away. Good enough for trail walking, and I won’t need my headlamp. I stretch and yawn, and rub my aching shoulders. It is the Winter Solstice, and a new day is dawning. It’s time to begin again.

I’m at the trailhead with a hot cup of coffee, waiting for the rain to stop. I’m a little cross and don’t feel well-rested. Sometimes that’s the way it goes for me. I’m not cross because I woke up early in spite of hoping to sleep in a bit. I’m cross because the noise that woke me was triggering, and I didn’t manage that sufficiently well to avoid also exchanging harsh words with my Traveling Partner before I left the house for my walk. I’m disappointed, and this makes me cross. It’s my beloved’s birthday and I want only good experiences for him.

… I can do better…

I’m not in any hurry, at least. I took off work today, and after my walk I will pick up the birthday cake and head home to enjoy the day. I’ve got time to sort myself out before the day really begins.

The soft sprinkle of rain that is falling isn’t really enough to stop me from walking. I’m enjoying the freedom to choose my timing and my experience, and waiting for a little daylight. I’m hoping to give my beloved time to get back to sleep for awhile, too. I meditate. I breathe, and let my thoughts pass by like clouds. “Nothing to see here”, it’s a quiet moment on a quiet autumn morning. It’s enough.

Yesterday was a strange one, and I reflect on it awhile. It was the sort of day when it seemed each attempt to focus on a single task was interrupted multiple times, with the end result that the one task I kept returning to never actually got started. I’d have to begin all over again each time I dealt with some distraction, and each time my focus was broken with a ping, a request for my attention on something, or some other thing someone else wanted done… I ended the day mentally exhausted, and feeling like my time and consciousness are not my own. It was super annoying. On the other hand, my Traveling Partner and I cooked dinner together, and that was fun, in spite of me being so tired I couldn’t easily tackle dinner without his help, and had to rely on the Anxious Adventurer to do cleanup after dinner. I went to bed early, too, and still woke feeling like I didn’t get any real rest.

A steady stream of headlights sweeps past, on the highway adjacent to the trailhead parking. G’damn, I’m so glad it isn’t me, this morning. I chuckle to myself thinking about my last visit with my Granny on the Eastern Shore. That would have been… 1995? Something like that. I was in my early thirties. She was some age between 65-75, and seemed ageless to me. I remember being surprised any time her response to a suggested outing or adventure of some sort was being “too tired for all that”. I definitely get it now. Fucking hell, life is exhausting sometimes. I “run out of spoons” much sooner these days, and things seem to require more of me than they once did. I often fail to account for self-care needs, beyond this quiet time in the morning, and my well-being and quality of life are slowly being more and more degraded by that. It’s poor planning, poor boundary and expectation setting, and also fairly fucking stupid – because I am aware of the negative consequences and also actually know better through direct experience. I could do better, and I’m going to end up paying a high price if I don’t treat myself better.

… I still, often, find it difficult to put my own needs high on my list, in spite of so much growth and progress. I should work on that…

I sip my coffee, struggling to rephrase my thoughts to avoid “should…” in favor of more emotionally healthy language. I don’t benefit from joining the queue of demanding voices pinging on my consciousness. I can do better.

The first hint of daybreak lightens the sky. I think of my beloved Traveling Partner hopefully sleeping at home. I sip my coffee contentedly, listening to the patter of raindrops and watching daybreak become the dawn of a new day, full of opportunity.

One mortal woman, limited capacity to do the verbs, limited opportunity to create change, limited ability to do more, better… I’ve only got so many spoons, and this brief mortal life to live. I sigh, still pressing myself to “do more, better”, aware that more often than not I am already doing my best. It has to be enough when we give all we have, but an unfortunate truth seems to be that sometimes it doesn’t feel like enough, and there’s no more to offer. Still… I guess “everything” is more than nothing, and as unsatisfying as that sometimes feels, it’ll have to do.

The rain keeps falling.

I sigh to myself and stretch as I get out of the car and pull my rain poncho, scarf, and gloves out of my gear bin. I can make out the trail now, in the predawn gloom. I’m so tired… and it’s already time to begin again. That’s okay; I’ll do my best.