Archives for posts with tag: walk your own path

It’s very foggy this morning. It is chilly, but not actually cold. I get to the trailhead safely, feeling eager to walk in the fog (if only because I’ve been painting foggy scenes lately and I enjoy the view of things obscured by fog).

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

The lights of the parking lot are eerie through the trees.

I walk the trail thinking about luck, and how routinely very successful and very wealthy people fail to honestly account for various lucky breaks they benefited from on their journey to success or great wealth. The “pull yourself up by your bootstraps” myth and similar tales of self-made success are frankly dishonest, though people may eventually come to believe that shit in the retelling of their stories over time. We don’t get where we are alone, good or bad. Sure, we’re each having our own experience, and yes, we are individually responsible for our own actions… but luck matters, too. Like, a lot.

I sigh to myself as I walk with my thoughts in the fog. The entire experience feels like a metaphor.

I get to my halfway point thinking about my general good fortune. I sometimes yearn for an easier life than I’ve got, but this life is good, just as it is. I have it better than my parents did, and lacking their lucky breaks getting here was a lot of work over many years. I’m grateful. I’m here, living this modest life in a small pleasant suburb, at the edge of a beautiful rural region of vineyards and farms and beautiful views. It’s enough to live this life, and more than enough to get to enjoy it in the context of my Traveling Partner’s love and good company.

… I somehow still find myself complaining about petty dumb shit that vexes me momentarily, forgetting how good I do have it, after all these years…

I may never be wealthy (by percentages, very few people ever will be). I may never have a life of excess and luxury. I have it pretty good though – there is a roof over my head, a secure home and well-stocked pantry, indoor plumbing and safe drinking water, and clean clothes to wear. I’ve got a good job and skills I can rely on. I live with chronic pain, but I have the medical care to manage it. I’ve got a head full of chaos and damage – but I’ve also got good therapeutic support and the tools for appropriate self-care. This isn’t a bad life. It’s actually pretty good.

What do you yearn for? What is your dream of a perfect life? Are your own desires obscuring your view of the life you live now? Are you “walking in fog”, not really seeing the joy and beauty of the life you have?

I think and walk until I reach a suitable place to stop, rest, write, and just be. It’s not my usual stopping point. I walked past it in the fog. 😆 There’s definitely a useful metaphor or two in this morning’s walk. There’s a piece of construction barrier handy to sit on, so I stop for meditation and writing. I use my rain poncho to make a dry place to sit. I breathe, exhale, and relax, and repeat. I give myself up to breath and calm observational awareness, sitting in the fog.

I could do without this fucking headache, though; I breathe, exhale, and let that go.

I could do without the arthritis pain. Another breath, another exhalation, and I let that go too.

As each internal criticism arises, I take a break, exhale, and let it go.

Every distracting thought is followed by a breath, and exhalation, and a release of that distraction, letting it dissipate into the fog with my breath.

This is not a difficult practice, nor is it costly. It does not require an expensive course. It does not require a subscription. It only requires practice. It is necessary to do the verbs, there are no shortcuts.

The predawn darkness is giving way to the earliest hints of nautical dawn. This may be my favorite time of morning, these moments when the first clear silhouettes of trees become distinct in the gloom. Shapes appear and become recognizable. There is a feeling of anticipation; the sunrise is coming. Even this feeling is released with an exhalation, to dissipate into the fog. It’s not as if I have any control over the coming and going of the sun anyway.

Lovely quiet morning, I think as I get to my feet. I peer into the fog. Headlamp? No. No headlamp, just this beautiful foggy twilight of dawn, and this foggy trail. It’s enough. I begin again.

I’m feeling better. Enough better to really enjoy a walk in the chilly autumn air before dawn. Refreshing like a cold drink of ice water on a hot day.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

It is cold, though. Above freezing, but only barely. I’m grateful for this warm sweater and the fleecy cardigan I added to that as I left the house this morning. The cold manages to feel more refreshing than anything else. I’m glad to resume my morning walk. It just “feels right”. I definitely needed the rest I got from taking a break from my walking for a handful of days. I’m glad I yielded to my Traveling Partner’s strong recommendations that I stay home, get some rest, and give myself a break.

When I am sick, one of the things that is notably impaired is my judgement, along with my impulse control. In other relationships, this has lead to things like me going out in a snow storm to take a city bus to the closest location of a specific fast food chain at my then-partner’s behest, in spite of being feverish and struggling to breathe when I had the latest hideous strain of flu. It sounds ridiculous without any embellishments or storytelling strategies. I was so sick I was having to sleep sitting up – but my fucking partner still sent me out in a snowstorm for a fucking cheeseburger. I very nearly missed the last bus back before the roads were shut down and the buses stopped running completely.

…He complained that the burger was cold by the time I got it home to him…

I sigh to myself. I didn’t even understand at the time that I was being taken advantage of, which still feels more than a little embarrassing, now.

I’m grateful to enjoy a relationship with a partner who looks out for me, now. Being cared for truly feels really good. I’m always looking for ways to return the favor. Partnership; we’re in it together.

The weekend is coming. I’d take off on my own and give my beloved a break from having me around so much while I’m sick, but I did that last weekend. We don’t have it like that. Besides, I’d probably do well not to rush myself back into the full measure of work and busy-ness, immediately. I sit at the halfway point of my walk thinking it over. A short work day today makes sense. Maybe a gentle weekend close to home, and time in the studio, or reading quietly? Coffee with my Traveling Partner, over conversation about our radios, perhaps? Quiet and gentle sounds good.

The cold morning nudges back to my feet. It’s some time before sunrise, and there’s only a hint of daybreak to be seen. I’ve got a busy (short) day ahead… May as well begin again, and get started on it. This path won’t walk itself!

I woke to my Traveling Partner’s voice telling me the weather and air quality are safe for walking. “Ideal” he may have said. I sat up groggy, and started dressing.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

I reached the trailhead sometime between daybreak and sunrise. The morning sky is pink and blue, with just a bit of haze coloring the distant hills in shades of muted blues. The temperature is mild and quite comfortable for now, but hinting at another very hot day ahead.

Sometimes “better” will have to be enough.

I remember, with some frustration, that I had meant to grab some items purchased online that didn’t work out, so I could run the return errand today. I forgot them in my rush to leave, hoping to give my beloved at least some quiet time for himself. Shit. Probably have to go back for those later. It’s a short day; I have an appointment later. I walk with my thoughts, mostly working on figuring out the timing. Can I make it work?

“Can I make it work?” Sometimes yes, sometimes no, eh? It is a question that comes up a lot in a human life.

I get to my halfway point and stop. Shorter walk, but still walking. I breathe, exhale, and relax, and settle myself into this moment, here, now. This? Right here? This moment of quiet peace, contentment, and joy? It’s enough. I sit with it awhile, savoring the scent of summer in the air (instead of smoke). I watch the sun rise and a new day begin. I think my thoughts.

… The appointment is relatively early in the afternoon, I can do the returns afterwards…

My thoughts wander on. Life. Love. Joy. Sorrow. Work. Chores. Dreams. Plans. Recollections of jokes my partner has told, and lovely things he has said to me. I breathe, exhale, and bring myself back to “now”. This is quite a nice moment without any extras. I enjoy it as it is.

I sit quietly until I can’t avoid hearing my tinnitus screeching in my ears, and my thoughts become dominated by eagerness to have coffee. I sigh to myself and get to my feet. The clock is ticking, and it’s time to begin again.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I sit quietly along this trail, appreciating a new day, a good mood, and having enjoyed a good night of rest. Small things, and still worth appreciating. A lot of small things have joy and wonder and plenty of value worth appreciating.

One moment, and the dawn of a new day.

The western sky is taking on some lovely pink hues along the edges of the clouds. I hear voices coming up the trail, rather loud for so early. “…use this trail almost around the clock, so we….” They come into view as they round the bend. I call out a cheery “Good morning!”, hoping to avoid startling them. “Morning, Young Lady!”, one replies. “We’re going down to put up caution tape and cut off a section of this trail for safety,” says the other. I ask if I’ll still be able to walk the loop all the way around with a detour, and they reply that I will. They walk on. I wave as they depart and they return the gesture. Human beings, being human.

Our words matter. Our gestures matter. Our ability and willingness to include others and to communicate matter. We have so much to offer each other and the world. Good things. We choose, and act on our choices. The consequences of our choices are our own to endure, and to be responsible and accountable is not something we can dodge or defer indefinitely. The bills will always come due. Worth thinking about.

Choose wisely. Speak gently. Act with intention.

The clouds roll past overhead, and it’s a gray sort of dawn. For a moment I catch a glimpse of a luminous fat full moon peaking through clouds and tangled bare branches. Pretty. It doesn’t last. Moments are brief. Impermanent. There’s something to be learned from that. I sigh quietly. I am wrapped in contentment and not eager to move from this place or this moment. The clock is ticking, though, and moments don’t last, even when we linger.

I stand and brush some damp leaves off my jeans and look down the path. New day. New moments. Time to begin again. I smile to myself and set off down the path.

I’m sipping my coffee as the day begins. My walk this morning was pleasant, uneventful, and frankly rather ordinary. The day is cloudy, and looks like rain. I’m in a thoroughly manageable amount of pain (for now), and I make a point of appreciating how (relatively) comfortable I am. In a life where chronic pain is a day-to-day experience, it is critical to really pause and be aware of it when pain is not a characteristic of the moment. Most of us don’t actually experience “chronic pain” as 100% of always every moment of every day all the time – it does come and go, and the severity varies. Our implicit memory and sense of “how things are” is notably affected by what we hold on to as “how we always feel” – so making room to be mindful and aware of a lack of pain becomes incredibly important for managing the whole experience of pain over time. Perspective matters. So, I sip my coffee, noticing how (relatively) little pain I am in right now, and make room for gratitude; it could be so much worse (and often is).

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I think about sunrises and sunsets, and views of distant horizons. I think about miles I have not yet walked, and contemplate trails I’ve yet to try. I think about camping, and I wonder when I might next spend a couple days on the coast, painting. I sip my coffee, and let my diffuse feeling of general contentment grow larger in my awareness. My eye falls on a small Hue Forge “painting” my Traveling Partner did from a photograph I’d taken. I feel loved and visible and appreciated as a person, as an artist, and as a partner.

Hue Forge rendering of a sunrise, Mt Hood silhoutted on the horizon.

That distant horizon is a good metaphor for goals and progress and walking my own path; there it is, just out of reach, that thing I think I want to get to. A goal, a vision, a destination – it could be any of those things, or just a place to camp that happens to be within view, but quite far away. What’s on the horizon? I never actually know, I only imagine, based on what I think I see. I have an idea, and a limited view. The closer that thing seems to get, the more detailed and real it may become – but it changes as it comes into closer view, more subject to scrutiny. Is it what I imagined? Is it actually what I want? Am I actually going to get “there” – or is that “there” quite different than I expected it might be? Am I being true to myself, and staying on my path, or has something fantastical on that distant horizon distracted me from my sense of purpose? Is it even real, or only something I thought I saw?

I sip my coffee feeling surprisingly content with “now”. Nice moment for it. Sure, the work day is ahead, but I don’t find that I mind. I’m fortunate to have a job I enjoy, working with a team of people I appreciate and respect (and even like), I feel appreciated in return. We get shit done. I’m working from home, which has the lovely quality of taking my breaks in my garden, or being able to run a quick errand during the day, and not finding myself quite so exhausted when the day finally ends. Nice “now” – I feel fortunate, and pause for gratitude; this too could be so much worse. Most of us do have to work to keep the bills paid and the pantry stocked, and it’s a difficult world. It’s not uncommon to have to endure a terrible work environment in servitude to a company whose values one can’t respect, simply to keep the lights on and the gas tank filled. It’s a lucky few who do jobs they love for companies they appreciate in an environment of mutual respect while being paid a good wage. If you’ve got it, be sure you appreciate it. Change is. Be kind to those who struggle with shit jobs for terrible bosses – it could be you at some point.

…Good cup of coffee…

My Traveling Partner gave me an early birthday gift last night. A new cookbook, and one that I’d spotted thinking “oooh, I’d like to have this one!” quite recently. I thought I’d added it to my wishlist, and was delighted that he had selected it. More delighted still – and a little amazed – when I discovered that I had not added it to my list at all. He knows me so well. I feel loved. This morning when my mind wanders, it is often to the kitchen, and thinking about what new adventures I may find there, between the pages of a new cookbook. 😀

Life can be experienced as a journey. I find it a useful metaphor. No map, lots of choices, and the path is mine to choose for myself. The horizon never really gets any closer – but it’s out there in the distance, tempting me onward. It’s a worthy journey – each step down the path has the potential to reveal some new delight, or to teach me a lesson I probably need to learn. We are mortal creatures – at some point, this journey will come to an end. Hopefully, I’ve learned all I could, experienced much worth sharing, and made a point to jot down some notes for anyone who may follow me down the trail (or simply wonders where I wandered off to).

I glance at the time. The clock is always ticking, and there are things to be done. It’s time, again, to begin.