Archives for posts with tag: walk on

My walk this morning was early, quiet, solitary, and thoughtful. Pleasant. Nice way to begin a new day.

When I started down the trail, a glance at the sky in one direction revealed dense dark storm clouds, homogenous and gray. Looking the opposite direction the sky was bright with promised sunshine later, and shades of peach and gold. Between these, fingers of clouds stretched across from one perspective to the other, feathering away to nothing into the clear skies from the stormier view. I walked along thinking about perspective.

This morning I am missing my Dear Friend who died earlier this Spring. There is so much I would share and talk over with her. There’s a particular feeling of rather acute loneliness that turns up within me each time I remember, again, that there’s no point in writing an email to share some particular moment with her, to get her perspective, or to share my own. She was always first to see new paintings (after my Traveling Partner, who is right here), and first to read new writing. Now… funny; I haven’t painted anything at all since she’s been gone. I take fewer pictures and rarely share them. I walk on with my thoughts, feeling the solitude from a different perspective.

…I have an appointment with my therapist later this month, but it’s nothing like talking and sharing with a Dear Friend…

I’m 61 this year. In about 7 days actually… I feel strange that there are so few around anymore who will care about that at all, or even know about it, if I don’t mention it. 61 doesn’t “feel old”, from this lived perspective, but I’ve lost (or lost touch with) many friends and family members who might once have been celebrating my birthday. It’s a strange feeling. I walk on.

I find myself feeling a bit blue as I walk. I wonder whether it may be some lingering effect from tinkering with my medication in order to do the requested diagnostic test. Seems possible, but I don’t really know. I keep walking.

By the time I am back to the car, I feel rather as if I’ve experienced an entire day’s worth of emotion and shifts in perspective, simply walking along with my solitary thoughts. I’m okay, and I am okay with having emotions (and thoughts about those), but it still feels strange and somewhat empty this lack of my Dear Friend to share some of this with. It’s not as if she were my only friend, nor even the only friend I regularly email… but it’s her perspective I am missing so painfully. I’m very aware of that, this morning.

…Every time I think I might like to paint, or feel inspired, or feel that inner tug to return to the studio, my heart seems to answer “why bother?”. This is an unexpected outcome of my grief over this particular loss…

I relied on this Dear Friend’s perspective as counterpoint or reinforcement of my own for some 25 years. I guess I am not surprised that I miss that. I know I am not surprised that I miss her.

Tears fall as I sit with my unexpected moment of grief. My grief expands as my tears fall. I cry over the loss of my Mother, although we never forged a close adult relationship, and were rarely closer than “pleasantly civil”. I grieve that lack of intimacy and connection. My tears fall for my Granny,  too; she did much to raise me and prepare me to find my own way as an adult and she was more mother to me than my Mother was. I’m not criticizing; we expect too much of women, and motherhood isn’t a good fit for all of us.

…I guess I am just feeling kind of alone with the years this morning, as I approach 61. Strange that it hits so hard on this quiet morning, 7 days from my birthday. Stranger still to feel this way when I am truly not “alone” in life. I have a loving partnership, and a handful of good friends (though some are distant), and the fond regard and esteem of many others…

Feelings are not facts. The map is not the world. The forecast is not the weather. I sit with my emotions and breathe. This will pass. I will begin again. I’m okay for most values of okay.

I give myself a moment for gratitude and reflection. I take time to consider more immediate worries than my lingering grief over lost dear ones. My Traveling Partner’s health is top of mind, often, lately and I find myself wondering if the weight of my worry over that may have provoked my thoughts to turn elsewhere for something that feels more “manageable”? Interesting perspective…

…My Traveling Partner pings me a greeting. He’s awake. It’s time to head home, and begin again.

How to find joy; make room for it. Be open to it when it happens upon you. Savor the joyful moments. Allow joy to exist. Sounds so simple…

…Sometimes it’s not so simple and requires some practice…

I’ve got the trail to myself this morning.

My tinnitus is loud in my ears this morning. It can be a real irritant. I look for joy in the moment, and build that by listening for the breezes rustling Spring foliage and whispering through the meadow grass along the trail as I walk. I listen attentively to the birds singing their morning songs. I craft joy in this moment by filling my thoughts with pleasant recollections of recent other joyful moments,  taking time to savor them and fill my heart and consciousness with these precious small delights. Joy doesn’t require grand gestures, big purchases, or flare. Many of my most joyful moments are humble bright spots in life that might go unnoticed if I allow myself to wallow in misery instead.

…Funny how easily we can become focused on, and mired in, our most miserable moments, and how reluctant we can be to spend similar time and energy on the things that delight us and feel good…

Spring flowers are blooming.

Sustaining joy is largely a matter of being willing to put more attention on it day-to-day than on the many small shitty experiences that occur in a human lifetime. I hate pointing it out, but… it’s a choice.  No kidding. It’s as simple (and as difficult) as choosing joy, and choosing to prefer it as a priority for putting time and attention on. That’s truly difficult when stuck in some unpleasant moment or enduring some crappy experience in life, nonetheless, it’s a choice.

…In my darkness moments, I still could have chosen joy, instead (a rather annoying matter of will)…

It matters what we choose to put our attention on.

Yesterday was a good day. I spent it on housekeeping and hanging out with my Traveling Partner. He spent the day healing and working on his laptop. I cleaned the kitchen thoroughly and spent a little time sorting things out on the new Linux OS on my desktop computer. We enjoyed meals together, laughter, conversation… a very pleasant day. I take a moment to savor the recollection. I chose joy all day. Toward the end of the day a couple packages arrived… for me!

…I  keep forgetting my birthday is coming up in a few days. lol It’s not any sort of “milestone year”… and 61 doesn’t feel “important” beyond surviving to celebrate it at all. Getting a couple unexpected (extra) gifts from my Traveling Partner delighted me immensely. 😀 😍 🤩  One rather practical (ish) gift of camping gear; a somewhat fancy pour-over set for making coffee, and a wee jar of an exotic rose petal tea. I  sit grinning and feeling incredibly loved. This human being “gets me”. I feel fortunate to be enjoying his presence in my life…I’ve never been more loved (as far as I know).

My big birthday gift is a delightful marble run that my partner 3D printed for me, and which I assembled before my camping trip. It’s super cool and captivates me. I love watching the marbles going around! I enjoy “seeing chaos in action” and it’s a beautifully harmless chaos model.

Joy is a funny thing… like contentment (and unlike “happiness”), it can be cultivated, crafted, and sustained… but that does require choices to make joy a priority, and to put time and attention on embracing joy. Make time to linger on, and savor, joyful moments. Stop ruminating over and catastrophizing small moments of unpleasantness. Your results will definitely vary, but we really do become what we practice.

…Cultivating joy may cause you to become an actual optimist, which honestly isn’t so bad (although I don’t think I could have imagined it when I was deeply cynical and pessimistic)…

I enjoy joy… it’s enjoyable. lol

I smile to myself, thinking my thoughts and watching the river flow by as I  rest and write at my halfway point. It’s a good day for joy. I breathe in the scent of Spring wildflowers and listen to the birds and breezes. I fill my heart with joy before I head back up the trail to begin again.

It’s a new morning. I hit the trail at sunrise, hoping to “walk off” this headache, this backache, the pain in my neck, and my general irritation with the day (which hasn’t even had a chance to get started)… but, as is often the case, all those things “follow me” down the trail and linger in my awareness.

Every journey begins somewhere.

…I find myself dreading the day, and feeling a bit trapped by my circumstances and choices. I remind myself how illusory such feelings can be, and to let shit go – let small shit stay small – and I remind myself to practice non-attachment, and to be mindful of impermanence. In the meantime, my steps carry me down this trail…

Pretty words and aphorisms don’t create change. My experience changes when I change my thinking or my actions, and it often takes some time. It’s a process. It’s important to understand that changing my own thinking and actions doesn’t change anyone else’s; it’s important to choose change based on what I want from the woman in the mirror. We’re each walking our own path, each having our own experience.

For many years I twisted helplessly within one relationship or another  trying to be the person a particular partner wanted, and often lost sight of who I,  myself, want to be. I suspect that’s not an experience unique to me. I try to approach things differently these days. I work on becoming the person I most want to be, myself, for me, based on my own values and sense of self. Taking the raw materials I’ve got, chaos and damage and all the messy broken bits, and practicing the practices that move me along my path in a way that causes no harm in my relationships, and creates harmony and connection isn’t reliably easy (or obvious), but I keep at. Seems a worthy endeavor and life is better for it.

…I am for sure not “perfect”… (there is no “perfect”)

Just as I walk this trail one step at a time, I walk my path in life one step at a time. The nice thing about this is that when I stumble (and I do), I can begin again – one step at a time. I set my goals. I measure my progress. I define my success (and my failure).

It’s been a challenging couple of days, for me. Caring for my Traveling Partner while he recovers from an injury has some difficult moments, bringing me to confront some things I would like to do differently and with greater skill. Requires practice. He’s got his own path to walk, and I can’t walk it for him – and it’s a poor choice to take that at all personally. His path is not about me. It’s more effective to focus on what I can do to be a good partner and care provider, and to be alert for opportunities to do more/better – or at least not make shit worse.

…I gotta say, my results vary…

The weekend is almost here. These days that doesn’t promise any great amount of actual rest, at all, there’s just too much to get done, and pretty much every day I already feel very behind on basically everything, more or less all the time. I’ll make a list of “must do” items and add things my Traveling Partner has explicitly asked me to take care of, and do my best to work down that list, task by task, until it’s all done… if I’ve got it in me. Some days I manage it. Others I don’t. “Everything I can manage” has to be enough.

I breathe the fresh Spring air as I walk. It’s a beautiful morning. I exhale each breathe grateful to have another day ahead to practice being the woman I most want to be. Who is she? How does she interact with the world? How does she handle her emotions? What’s her self-talk like? I see her as kind, considerate, experienced, and able to calmly deal with most of life’s chaos without losing perspective. I see her as someone helpful and understanding, compassionate and concerned for the state of the world (and her relationships). I see her being willing to listen, and honest without being unkind. I see her as comfortable setting boundaries, and respecting the boundaries set by others. I see her as a woman of great joy and enormous capacity for love. She’s hospitable, generous – but not a “sucker”. She walks through life with purpose, confident her path is right for her.

…Gotta have goals! Helpful to have a sense of self, both as I am here/now, and also where I would like to find myself. I walk on with my thoughts…

…Breathe, exhale, relax… walk on.

The day ahead seems more ordinary and routine, as I walk. I find myself more able to avoid taking my partner’s recent temper personally (or my own) as I walk down the path. Most of these moments of ill temper are a byproduct of injury or pain, and the ups and downs of medication taken to relieve discomfort or promote healing. An astonishing amount of the medication we’re given pretty commonly also happens to be mind or mood altering, though people rarely discuss it as being so. Even OTC stuff often has profound potential to color our thinking or the lens through which we view the world. I remind myself to be more patient and kind about such things, and to try to let petty aggravations just… go. It’s not personal.  Hell, sometimes that shit is barely real.

I laugh to myself, thinking about my own moments of misplaced temper in life. No shortage of those. Perspective. I could do better. I keep practicing.

I also keep walking. I get to the bench at the turn around point and sit down to write for a few minutes. This is some of my most cherished time each day. These few minutes of self-reflection and writing help me focus on what matters most, and help me find my calm center, my sense of perspective, and my joy. Whatever else any given day throws my way, I’ve got this moment, pretty reliably. That’s something worth having. I savor it.

I breathe, exhale, relax, and take a moment to enjoy the Spring sunrise and the golden hues that filter through the trees. It’s a new day, and I’ve got the path ahead, and a chance to begin again.

This morning I am sipping my coffee by the warmth of the fire in my propane-fueled FireCan (linked, because I love this thing). It’s the titular can to which I referred. lol

Taking the chill off the morning.

The “can’t”, on the other hand is all the stuff either utterly outside my control (like the rain expected later today), or outside the limitations of my abilities, or prevented by some fundamental of reality itself. My thoughts are provoked simultaneously by the chilly morning and this warm fire, and the rangers who happened by talking about another recent hiker death caused by straying off a marked trail, and falling to their mortal end. (Not here, but elsewhere in Oregon.)

Stay on the path, people, stay on the path.

…There is something to be learned about living well in the mistakes people make that so easily send them to their doom over an out-of-reach desire… or a fucking selfie. Just saying, in life and on the trail, plan your journey with as much care as you can, tell your loved ones where you’re headed, prepare for the likely conditions, and stay on the fucking trail. It can still all go very wrong, but you’ll have done your best to prevent mishaps through bad decision making. Maybe.

My coffee this morning is very satisfying. I am drinking more than usual and until later in the day, while I’m camping. That’s not unusual for me. It doesn’t seem to affect my sleep out here. Noise definitely does. Last night was very quiet. I slept well and deeply waking once to pee, and later to the sound of creature wandering through camp, perhaps very close, perhaps some kind of cat. Depending on the specifics, I guess I am glad we didn’t meet on the trek to the restroom, earlier. lol

A beautiful moon rising after sunset.

The moon lit the night sky such that when I woke during the night and got up to walk to the restroom, I didn’t need my headlamp at all. The night was surreal and beautiful in my less than ideally awake state. I wondered at the beauty of it all. I gazed into the night sky, through the shapes of trees silhouetted against the starry sky. Night even smells quite different, some flowers are more fragrant at night. The quiet was so… quiet. I lingered long enough for the chill to catch up with me, before I returned to my cozy sleeping bag, still warm from my body heat.

A crow is cross with me this morning. I wonder what he thinks I should be doing differently? A massive RV pulls past, loud engines giving voice to the amount of power it takes to move an entire house up a narrow road. I chuckle to myself. There aren’t that many campers in my age group still tent camping, seems like; they mostly prefer a nice comfy house on wheels of some sort. I get it. I’m not criticizing at all. Tent camping is a bit of work. There’s manual labor in the set up and tear down (so much), especially for campers who enjoy being “well-equipped”. (I’m honestly more “glamping” than camping, but doing so is built on my own labor, and I enjoy the little luxuries.)

I make a bite of breakfast. Freshly scrambled eggs with some squash and mirepoix, and sourdough toast, toasted over the fire. Some time after breakfast dishes are done, I’ll hit the trail, striking out in some new direction, on a path I’ve yet to walk… but I’ll totally stay on the path.

…It’s time to begin again…

I woke early and headed to a favorite trail. It was already daylight when I reached the trailhead. I had the trail (and the park) all to myself this morning and enjoyed my walk, listening to birdsong, the distant sound of traffic on the nearby highway, and the crunch of of my steps on the trail.

I’m sitting at my half-way point, now, enjoying the stillness I walked so far to reach. 1.5 miles. My first 3 mile walk in awhile, by the time I get back to the car. Feels good. It’s an overcast morning. Looks like it might rain. I breathe the cool air deeply, taking in the scent of Spring wildflowers. Lovely morning for it.

Today I’ll spend the day on various preparatory tasks for my camping trip; I leave tomorrow morning sometime. (I’m not rushing and don’t have any reason to set some firm timeline.) I’ll do a few things to help ensure my Traveling Partner only misses me because he loves me, not because there’s some massive inconvenience that is difficult for him to overcome. I’ll make a point of having him give me a refresher on setting up and using the solar power; it’s the sort of “use it or lose it” knowledge I am at risk of discovering I’ve lost, just when I need it most, and I’ve only taken the system with me for solo camping once before. Not enough practice with it, yet, to count on implicit memory.

…Tomorrow is so soon…

I’ve already fueled up the car. Had a couple repairs and some maintenance done. Got the oil changed. Made sure the wiper fluid is topped off. Fixed a broken latch on the lid of the center console (should have been done months ago). The car is ready for the next long drive. Next is packing the gear that’s at the house. Tomorrow, on my way out of town, I’ll stop by storage for the rest of the gear I need; I’ve already checked it out and figured out what goes and whether it fits in the Mazda.

…I  remind myself to take a minute with my partner to check the gear in the truck; there are probably a couple things I want that are kept in the truck, generally…

…Another trip to the store, too…

Mildly vexed by the cloudy morning, I check the weather forecast for my camp site again; still says sunny weather most of the time I expect to camp. I’m happy about that, but also unconvinced – and unconcerned. The weather will be whatever it is and I can’t do a thing about that, besides prepare for it. The map is not the world. The plan is not the experience. The forecast is not the weather. lol

I’m excited to get started, but equally eager to enjoy a relaxed experience, treat myself and my partner well, and avoid later aggravation by being well-prepared and un-rushed. It’s a bit of a balancing act. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I have no potential to find myself “running late”, my time is already my own for the next 7 days. That feels amazing. I can’t possibly find myself “ahead of schedule” or finding my plan going sideways, this simply isn’t built on such a delicate plan at all. Damn, it feels good to just not even worry about time or timing. I needed this rest, so much.

I sigh and laugh at myself, when I catch myself checking my watch for the time. lol These all too brief mortal lives are so time-bound. Hilarious. We made that shit up, and routinely forget there’s only now.

…Still…It’s a good time to begin again. Time to head back down the trail…