Archives for posts with tag: walking my own mile
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Enough Blame to Go Around

July 8, 2024 //
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I’m sipping an iced coffee, perched on a stretch of fence, watching the sun rise. Another hazy warm summer morning that foretells of heat to come. I’ll be in the chill of an air conditioned office for much of the day. Right now I am sitting outside, along the edge of this trail that wanders betwixt marsh and river, looking out across an expanse of meadow, breathing summer air scented by flowers and grasses. It’s a pleasant moment and my being here, now, is mostly due to my Traveling Partner’s need to get some sleep in early morning hours, and the resulting habit of mine that has developed over time; I walk in the early morning hours (avoiding making a bunch of noise knocking about the house while my Traveling Partner tries to sleep).

Another summer morning. Another sunrise.

I smile and breathe the summer scented air. It would not be an exaggeration to place the “blame” for a lot of my current living situation and quality of life on my Traveling Partner. When he and I began to become close, I was in a very different situation (professionally, financially, domestically, medically, and romantically), and from the beginning he questioned (often) why I was in that place instead of living quite differently (and better). He suggested I could do more/better with the resources I had, with my background and experience, and with available options that seemed so obvious to him. He encouraged me to choose differently. It was 2010. He nudged me into getting my first smartphone. It started with that small change, and with the change in my outlook on life that developed and began to deepen through that first year together. He really “backed me up” and encouraged me in a way no previous partner had.

…He has reliably encouraged me to be my best version of the woman I would most like to be that I possibly can…

How I live my life is in my hands. My choices are my own. I am responsible for the consequences of my actions and my words and deeds. (Good and bad.) But… I likely wouldn’t have made many of the choices I did, when I made them, or pursued the results I have gotten, without the love and encouragement, and day-to-day confidence in my abilities that my Traveling Partner has shown me. I playfully “blame him” for much of my experience of success in this latter portion of my life. I doubt I would be in this specific here and now without him. I’m grateful, both for his enduring love and friendship, and also to be here, now, living this life. However long this lasts, it’s pretty pleasant and generally comfortable, and I hope I never take it for granted.

… I’ve done the work to get here, but I wasn’t alone on this journey; it’s been a shared experience. We’re in this together…

The sound of distant traffic reminds me this is a work day. I could happily sit here with my coffee, listening to birdsong and breezes until the heat of the day made it uncomfortable, but there’s work to be done, and it’s part of maintaining this pleasant life I share with my Traveling Partner (and the Anxious Adventurer, for some while to come). I glance at the time, on my cute wrist watch, a gift from my partner earlier this year. I’ve got plenty of time to make my way back up the trail, and my coffee is gone…

… Seems like a good time to begin again…

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

Time is Short

June 15, 2024 //
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This mortal lifetime is a fleeting and all too brief experience. We haven’t yet defeated aging or death, and we inevitably face both those experiences in turn… if we’re fortunate enough to enjoy some longevity in the first place.

I’m not meaning to sound grim, just putting a bit of self-reflection and perspective into my morning. It just seems to me that there is no time for petty bullshit, taking things personally, or chronic negativity. We’re human, though  and pettiness, bullshit, negativity, and taking things personally often seem to be default settings for human primates. It’s unfortunate. Life is filled with wonder and potential joy and delight, and when we give ourselves the opportunity to experience those qualities, they have incredible potential to lift us up.

…We become what we practice…

I often wonder what keeps some people so invested in unpleasantness and negativity, when it is possible to choose differently? I’m forced to reflect on my own journey; it’s the one I know best. It wasn’t that long ago that I took a lot of shit personally (that wasn’t, at all). I was a chronically pessimistic, cynical, fairly miserable traumatized human being disappointed with life, feeling weighed down by futility and despair, struggling to find any relief, purpose, or joy. I began making other choices, setting off on this profoundly healing journey some 14 years ago, around the time I reconnected with my (now) Traveling Partner. Shortly before then, actually, but at the time I didn’t really understand the nature of the journey ahead, nor where it could lead me (I was only beginning to understand the necessity and ask the important questions).

Like a road trip without a map, through fog.

…If I had known how far I would need to go, how long the journey ahead would be, and how much work, study, and will would be required, I doubt I would have understood that I had it in me to undertake it at all, and I might have given up on myself (I almost did)…

I’m just saying that it is possible to get from “there” to “here”, and it has been worthwhile a hundred times over to make the journey. So worth it.

I’ve read books and studied mindfulness and relevant cognitive research and developments in neuroscience. I’ve given thought to the advice and recommendations of friends, family, lovers, colleagues, and mental health professionals, and taken so many of their suggestions for a test drive, looking for changes that could improve my experience. I’ve pulled myself back from the precipice of despair a thousand times. I’ve practiced a multitude of practices, adopting some as permanent features of the way I live (meditation, non-attachment, and “taking in the good” being among those). I’ve pursued honest self-reflection and committed to better self-care. I’ve sought (and found) perspective, and embraced change. I’ve begun to thrive in life, instead of merely surviving it.

…Powerful stuff…

I’m sitting here with my thoughts on a rather stormy morning as summer approaches, watching the clouds drift by. The sun is up. I’ve got this trail to myself. It’s a pleasant moment and I am grateful to have this quiet solitary time.

I can only walk my own path.

I’m a bit frustrated by one thing as I sit with my thoughts… It’s this; I can find success and joy in life through all the means I’ve named, and I can share all that with you here, and with people dear to me, but I can’t make anyone else follow this (or a similar) path. We’re each having our own experience. I can’t actually make someone else abandon their negativity or pettiness. I can’t make someone embrace joy, or cultivate contentment. I can’t do the work for someone else or even convince them of the necessity or likely improvement that could follow. We have to walk our own hard mile. I had to walk mine, and I walk it even now. You have to walk yours, and the consequences of your actions (and your words) are yours to bear.

I sit with my thoughts awhile longer. It’s a lovely morning. A blue jay hops about in the weeds near my feet. The large rock beside the trail that I’m sitting on is firm beneath me. I feel grounded and comfortable in my skin, in spite of the pain I’m in. I feel sure of my path, and my worthiness to walk it. I am grateful for the many opportunities I have had to grow and change and begin again. Learning to forgive myself has been hard. Learning to forgive others has been harder. Both have been worthwhile and I am less burdened thereby.

This very human experience is an interesting and complicated thing, and I often wonder what the real purpose of it is, or whether it has one at all.

Maybe it’s enough to enjoy the journey?

There is a lot to forgive in one lifetime, but there’s also a lot to enjoy, and a lot to celebrate.  The storm clouds regroup, and the sky darkens. Rain drops begin to spatter the trail and the blue jay has flown away. I stand and stretch, and get ready to head back to the car. It’s time to begin again.

…Where does your path lead? Is that where you really want to go? The clock is ticking; choose wisely.

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Categories Allegories, anger, anhedonia, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, grief, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Spring, Summer, The Art of Being, War and News of War, Words

What Matters Most?

April 28, 2024 //
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It’s hard to care about progress toward goals with tears pouring down. It’s hard to celebrate a joyful moment in the midst of angry criticism (however legitimate or well-intentioned). It’s hard to care about anything, and for the moment, I’m mired in this experience of deep sorrow and dread. I’m “shook”. I’m triggered. I’m grievously stressed out – by the person in my life who cares for me most, and who I hold most dear, myself.

…It’s just a moment…

…Breathe, exhale… begin again…

I tell myself the things I know I need to hear. I work towards perspective – and forgiveness – and I just… still hurt. I’m still crying. It’s still fresh.

I 100% absolutely unequivocally without exception completely and entirely loathe being yelled at. I don’t respond to it well at all. Maybe it doesn’t rise to the level of someone else’s idea of yelling? Perhaps it doesn’t, but I don’t do well with the escalated hostile angry confrontational tone to something that could have been handled with kindness, humor, and love, and treated as a human moment. Was it a big deal? Not for me to decide. Clearly it was a big enough deal for my Traveling Partner to lash out at me in the way that he did.

…It’s just a moment…

He’ll probably move past it far sooner than I will be able to. I hope he does, I don’t honestly want him also hurting over it, and I’d rather see him happy and okay with himself and with life, generally. I want that for both of us. Right now… I’m alone with my tears. At some point, I’ll probably be okay, and more easily able to nurture myself, and offer him kind words and put things right somehow.

(This wasn’t “a big deal”, and there’s nothing to see here, no violence, no trauma, just expressions of temper and frustration and angry words, and emotions, and it’s unpleasant and I’m unhappy, but these experiences are also part of the human experience – we’re not perfect creatures capable of full-time rationalism uncomplicated by our feelings, ever. We are creatures of emotion and reason – and emotion always arrives to the party first.)

detail of “Emotion and Reason”, acrylic on canvas with glow and ceramic details. 2011.

I breathe, exhale, and feel the throbbing of my headache, reliably worsened by the stressful moment. I didn’t sleep well last night, and although we were making light of that earlier in the day, it’s no laughing matter right now. The lack of rest has consequences for my emotional regulation. So… I’m alone with myself; the only person I know fully capable of accepting me as I am right now, and dealing with it without making it worse. (Which is a sign of real growth, and I take a moment to appreciate it that I can “be here for myself” in a way I simply couldn’t have 10 years ago.)

Fucking hell. What a shit show. People fucking suck… every one of us. So fucking human. Sometimes that really just sucks all the balls. My nerves are raw, and my emotions are in chaos. It’s a shitty place to be.

…I sit awhile “listening” to my tinnitus. It’s louder, too. It hisses and chimes and rings and buzzes in my ears while my head throbs and my heart pounds. Tears well up. My nose runs. I try not to make shit just that little bit worse by anticipating a shitty day tomorrow as a result of this shitty moment right here… tomorrow will be a new day. A new beginning. A reliable chance to reset and make choices in favor of a different experience. I’ll go to work. The routine will feel comfortable – and comforting. I remind myself this too will pass…

I take a moment for gratitude. It’s been such a lovely weekend. Rainy, mostly, but blue skies now; the sun came out at midday, and there’s a pleasant Spring breeze blowing. I got the things done I most needed to, and that I’d committed to doing. There’s still some laundry to fold, but I haven’t had to push a bunch of stuff off to another day. All of that matters, even if this moment seems to diminish it.

…I feel sad, though. As is so often the case, I was in such a lovely mood when shit went sideways. I suppose that’s likely to be the perspective any time shit does go sideways, eh? It’s probably going to feel as if “everything” has suddenly turned from golden joy and delight to … shit. I wonder how accurate that ever actually is? Was it just an ordinary moment that now seems vastly better than it was, because the moment that followed was just that bad? I think about that for a moment, and consider the nature of “perspective” and how subjective that can actually be.

The tears well up all over again, and I find myself feeling profound self-doubt about whether there’s even any value in hitting “publish” on this – whenever I finally stop writing. A missive of pain… seems… somehow tedious, or selfish, or pointless, or… just somehow lacking. I feel anhedonia lurking in the shadows, waiting for a moment of unsuspecting vulnerability to let that shit creep over me like clingwrap, smothering me in ennui and sadness and that horrible sense of grim futility I know so well… Not at all what I want for myself. That shit is a terrible way to treat oneself. I sigh quietly, resigned to the struggle – and the headache – and wondering how the evening ahead will unfold. For the moment, I don’t feel welcome in my home, nor even in my life. Just… sad and out of place. Like… a familiar stranger.

…There’s still laundry to fold. A partner to forgive. A moment to move on from. Water to get started drinking (you know, because of all the fucking crying). Like it or not, the way out is through, and I’d better get started… I’ve got to begin again somehow. This time, it’ll need some real work – and I know my results may vary. I’ll just start with stepping through it as a process, and trust that the process will… work.

…I miss the wise women of my lifetime… my Granny. My mother. Most particularly my recently departed dear friend. I feel so… lonely, right now. Thanks for listening, if you bothered to get this far. I appreciate it. I’m sure I’ll be fine, I’m just hurting at this moment, right here… and it’ll pass. Moments are quite fleeting. You’re welcome to share your thoughts – perhaps your perspective will help. No expectations, just saying; I do read the comments.

G’damn this headache, though…

…Something, something… “begin again”… it sounds empty just at the moment, but I know the truth of it… so I’ll just get started on that… What else would I do?

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Categories Allegories, anger, anhedonia, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, grief, Logic & Reason, loneliness, Love, meditation, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, Spring, The Art of Being, The Big 5, women

One Moment

April 17, 2024 //
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Chilly morning. It’s near freezing this morning. The local trail I chose for my walk is slick with frost in places, and the air is crisp and quiet. The sunrise is gold and orange, with hints of deeper shades of red.  I’ve taken today off and for now my time is my own.

The colors of a new day.

I walk and think, until my steps bring me back to the car. I’m in quite a lot of pain this morning, which is annoying, but I’m managing in spite of it, so far. The sudden cold snap causes my arthritis to flare up. Nothing much to do about that besides complain and take something for it. It could be worse, and I am grateful that it isn’t.

…Funny how the many pretty little flowers that adorn the meadows and the ground beneath the oaks along this trail would be weeds in my garden…

I sigh quietly to myself. This headache is vexing me. I’m hoping it will diminish once the pain medication I took for my arthritis kicks in. I’d mutter something to myself about how much aging sucks, but I’ve had the osteoarthritis since I was about 25, and this particular headache for going on a decade. I remind myself, again, that it could for sure be so much worse. I take a breath and let my vexatious notions go as I exhale and relax. New day, new moment, new chance to begin again, eh?

I sit with my thoughts awhile longer, reflecting on my good fortune to have a partner who cares about my wellness and is supportive and kind, and careful with my feelings. He’s been very open to supporting my decision-making and goal-setting as I start new medication and reflect on changes I need to make to my diet and fitness plan. He knows it isn’t easy and doesn’t cast me as a villain, blame me, or nag or criticize me. He listens and offers suggestions when I ask for help or for his insights. So different than what either of us saw modeled by our parents. It’s a relief and I am appreciative and grateful.

…Changes do need to be made, though. There are no shortcuts or magic pills. I have to do my part. “Eat less and exercise ” is trite and basic, and probably a bit oversimplified, but… it’s trite and basic because it’s pretty foundational and reliably true, generally. It’s just how the biochemistry of our metabolism works. So, I am back to logging meals for a while, while I recalibrate my awareness of my calorie consumption and improve on the nutritional quality of what I eat. I’m back to weekly weigh-ins, holding myself accountable and staying aware of progress and setbacks. I’m back to pushing myself a little harder every week on the trail and at home to do a little more, go a little further and sit still a little less. It’s a journey. Like so many of life’s journeys, I have to walk my own mile, and I am my own cartographer. No shortcuts.

…If you’re thinking that Ozempic and other medications that may aid weight-loss for some people are somehow “shortcuts”, at all,  I gently suggest reconsidering that as a thinking error. How is medication for a medical condition any sort of “shortcut”? (And if you’re only taking or considering one of these new drugs so you can drop a couple pounds to soothe your vanity, maybe think about how that may reduce the availability of these drugs for people who actually need them.?)

Meh. Do you. I’m not your mom nor your babysitter. Maybe just don’t be an asshole to people who have challenges you don’t personally share?

The sun is up. It’s shining in my eyes, golden and bright. It’s a new day, a new moment, and there’s so much further to go. I guess it’s time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Practices, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, weight loss secrets

A New Day

February 11, 2024 //
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I’m waiting, again, at a trailhead. Daybreak is here and the gate to the nature preserve will open shortly. It’s a new day.

The view from a parking space, looking towards the highway.

I breathe, exhale, relax… and listen through the ringing in my ears for the clang of the gate opening.

Yesterday, in my impatience to get going, I walked in the pre-dawn twilight just at daybreak on a very cloudy morning. I started out with my headlamp on, and needed it. I find the walking both less satisfying and also riskier at that hour, and this morning I am taking a more patient approach.

… Strangely, it’s definitely “dawn” now and the visibility is quite good, but the gate has not yet opened. Quite odd. I find myself wondering if the sensor is broken, and whether I will be waiting a long while for a park ranger to come by to open it…? Curious, I check the website, which still says the trails are open “dawn to dusk”. The gate across the driveway up to the main parking area and year-round trailhead disagrees. Most peculiar.

I sigh quietly and work on managing my frustration and disappointment. There are other trails nearby. I could choose differently and don’t have to wait… I sit with that thought awhile. What to do?

… I hear the clang. It’s time to begin again.

Later. The morning air along the edge of the marsh smelled rather like aquarium water. The migratory birds gathered in groups here and there were waking for the day and beginning to take flight. The sky lightened to shades of blue and pale gray. A soft misty rain began to fall. I walked on, smiling.

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