Archives for posts with tag: walking my own path
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Change Is, and It’s Always Just Ahead

March 15, 2026 //
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I finally get to my halfway point. Daybreak has come. It’s a gray wintry looking (but quite mild) morning. The marsh is marshy. The recent heavy rain (for days) makes the trails soggy. Even on the well maintained all season trail, my steps squish as I walk. Low spots are flooded.

There’s some potentially tedious bitching ahead, I warn you now. If that’s not amusing or interesting or potentially useful, skip down to the picture. 😂

My trek this morning takes longer than usual. I stop frequently to exchange messages with my Traveling Partner who is aggravated by the Anxious Adventurer’s behavior and general approach to life, again. They share blood as father and son, but not values. It makes comfortable cohabitation difficult and creates a lot of unnecessary drama. I’ll be glad to see the Anxious Adventurer move out, although I’m legitimately sorry he didn’t find a suitable living arrangement somewhere locally. He seems to like the area, but he does not have the will to put in the effort to find something around here, and the “easy options” are too costly. He doesn’t communicate sufficiently well to make use of available resources to open the door to other options, either.

…It is emotionally exhausting to help him with anything…

In two years, this situation has not improved much and the living arrangement is coming to an end for that reason. It could have worked. It didn’t. There were choices involved, and consequences are what they are. I’m very much looking forward to having my own bathroom again, and enough space to paint comfortably, to read quietly, and enjoy a home life that does not include conversations with someone who is walking away mumbling or shouting from another room. I probably sound like I’m being a bit bitchy, but just keeping things real, it’s my fucking house. I’ve set clear expectations and provided a lot of gentle feedback and reinforcement, without success, and have zero interest in parenting a grown man.

Choices have consequences.

Change is. Choose wisely.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. Other People’s Drama can so easily pull us in, especially when it’s people dear to us. Relationships are a huge part of the human experience, maybe the most important part. Building healthy relationships is easier with shared values. Open communication is helpful, and I personally think it is quite necessary.

I swing my feet from this fence rail, watching robins digging in the soggy rotting leaf litter for tasty bugs. I’m grateful for the exceptional relationship I have with my Traveling Partner. I’m grateful we’ve both been willing to put ourselves into making it work when circumstances could have pulled us apart. I’m grateful that we’ve each had the reservoir of resilience and abiding love to weather the storms of being so very human. We listen to each other and work together. We clarify misunderstandings and share who we are as we change and grow over time. Our love is deep and our conversations are meaningful. We’re friends first, and lovers, and partners. I sit with my gratitude. 16 years ago, this friendship began to change my life. I’m grateful we’ve shared the journey for so long and I hope we continue to do so for some lengthy indefinite measure of time…call it a lifetime. Whatever we’ve got left. It’s enough. 😄❤️

I sigh to myself. The chaos of moving things around again is a minor aggravation and that moment is not now. I let it go and pull my attention back to this moment. It is a gray Spring morning in the Pacific Northwest. The squirrels have decided I’m no threat and they play among the meadow grass and in the trees. I’m having brunch with the Chaotic Comic this morning. I’ll enjoy this moment awhile longer, and then I’ll begin again. It’s time for change. I’m okay with that, I could see it coming. 😁

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Categories Allegories, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Spring, The Art of Being, The Big 5, Words

A Peaceful Indulgence

March 8, 2026 //
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This morning I slept in, even accounting for the change to Daylight Savings Time, and in spite of this head cold, which is much better today.

Spring comes to the marsh and meadow, and the oaks on the hillside.

I get to the trailhead equipped with new boots and a smile that feels too big for this moment. I’m enjoying the glow of being so deeply loved, and the recollection of a leisurely coffee with my Traveling Partner this morning. It was quite delightful. Right now, nothing matters more.

Where do you find your peace? How do you restore your resilience when it’s tested? How do you recharge your batteries? Are you doing enough of those things to feel well and whole and reliably content? Just questions I asked myself on the way down the path – many times over the years, actually – and they reverberate through my consciousness as my steps took me down the trail this morning. Lovely morning for it.

… Right now, feeling wrapped in love and filled with contentment and gratitude, I am as happy as I have ever been. This is a happy moment. I marveled at it as my steps crunched down the trail, cane in hand, smiling. This is a truly wonderful feeling. I savor this feeling and the moments that lead me here this morning. I chuckle to myself happily; I feel safe from self-sabotage, because I’m also comfortably aware that “this too will pass”. Moments are fleeting, and it’s best to enjoy them without getting attached. 😁

I breathe, exhale, and relax. No coughing. I think I’m getting past the worst of this cold and beginning to recover.

I am fortunate to be so loved. I’m grateful that the most profound love of my lifetime is also my friend. I’m grateful for the depth of our connection and these years of joy and growth that we’ve shared. I’m deeply appreciative for the opportunities we’ve taken to lift each other up and offer encouragement and wisdom won through facing life’s challenges individually (and together).

I sit swinging my feet and looking out over the marsh. It is less solitary at this time of the morning, and I see hikers and photographers out on the trail, on the other side of the marsh. Ahead of me or behind me, I can’t tell. We’re fellow travelers on a path we hope will take us where we want to go. It’s figuring out the destination that is the tricky bit, isn’t it? That, and not being distracted by some other traveler’s journey. We’re each having our own experience. Sometimes it takes awhile to figure out that the journey is the destination.

I smile happily, enjoying the moment. It’s enough. Later, I’ll begin again.

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Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, joy, Love, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, women, Words

One Foot After The Other

March 3, 2026 //
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“Keep walking,” I tell myself silently. Over and over, step after step down the trail to my halfway point. This morning I got an early start, and I get to my halfway point just at daybreak. That’s fine. I just wish those persistent steps had carried me past this shitty mood.

Here. Now.

I sigh irritably and let it go. I didn’t get here by myself, but that’s the way of human primates; we are social creatures, and easily pick up feelings from each other. It’s not personal, it’s how we’re wired. I try again to let it go. I’m cross with myself, with my Traveling Partner, and with the fucking world. “Do better, Assholes”, I mutter to myself feeling seriously cranky.

Another sigh. I’m grateful to have remembered to shove a pack of tissues into my pocket. The tears vex me, and now my nose is running. I feel like a ticking time bomb, which seems like an unreasonable overreaction, honestly. Sitting here alone I can more easily evaluate that, and maybe gain perspective and soothe myself.

Could my seriously shitty mood be a byproduct of changes to my medication? My doctor prescribed something different to help manage my neuropathic pain, things like my headache, my occipital neuralgia, and other pain that is linked to my spinal injury. It has definitely helped with that – it even seems to have “turned down the volume” on my tinnitus, which was unexpected… but this new medication also reduces the need for other prescription pain relief, and reducing the amount of that comes with known difficulties – “the down” is rough. Is my shitty mood coming from (or aggravated by) withdrawal symptoms? It could be. Useful perspective.

I find perspective and reframing very calming. It’s a useful practice.

The Anxious Adventurer is supposed to be doing something or other for his days off, to give my Traveling Partner and I some time alone to enjoy each other. He came down with a cold, but doesn’t say anything about whether that has affected his planning. It’s honestly one of the most vexing characteristics of cohabitation with him; he’s not at all “open”, not out of meanness or any sort of reserved nature, it’s more that he seems to lack basic communication skills and has little will to improve. I still have no idea when or if he’s going somewhere, nor where that might be. He seems clueless why such things matter. (I like to plan, that’s part of the fun for me, and I discuss my plans freely, even seeking other perspectives and suggestions when I am planning something. I know that isn’t everyone’s thing, but fucking hell say something enough in advance for people around you to also plan!)

….Comfortable cohabitation generally needs shared values. Without that, someone is generally not comfortable…

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I meditate as dawn becomes day. A new day, another sunrise, a new beginning… I rely on being able to begin again.

A different “now”, a new perspective.

… Fucking hell, it’s a work day, too… I can’t say I feel like it, I definitely don’t. At all. I inhale the cool morning air. It smells like Spring. It feels warmer than I expect for early March. Fog begins accumulating, oozing up from the creek bed on the other side of the trees. It’s 7C (45F) and feels comfortably mild. There are early Spring flowers blooming: crocuses, daffodils, hyacinths. The air is sweet with the fragrance. I focus on that.

… And I’ve definitely picked up another head cold…

Fucking hell being human is complicated and annoying sometimes. No wonder we do such a shit job of simple communication or managing our emotions with care, or being considerate of others. It’s hard sometimes. It takes practice, and we mostly don’t bother to teach this shit.

We become what we practice.

The clock is always ticking. I get to my feet, reluctant to deal with the world, but recognizing the necessity. It’s time to begin, again.

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, The Big 5, winter, Words

Facing Change, Choosing Wisely

February 28, 2026 //
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My walk this morning began at sunrise. Beautiful. Worth the drive. Feeling rested and eager, I headed down the trail at a brisk pace, but with the spare trekking pole from my gear bin, instead of my usual one that functions as my outdoor all-purpose cane. (I forgot about grabbing it from my Traveling Partner’s pickup.)

Every sunrise is a new beginning.

The brisk pace was foolish. It’s a chilly morning, and I’m warmed through from walking when I get to my halfway point and stop to write and reflect. My ankle and left foot are feeling the adverse effects of my enthusiasm, though, and remind me why my plan today includes shopping for new boots.

… I’m not annoyed to be replacing these boots over any perception of poor quality. It’s not that at all. It’s that this pair of boots turned out to be “single use” in the sense that they can’t be re-soled. The built-in cushioning air pockets designed into the molded (or extruded, I don’t know) soles can fail through wear (obviously), and can’t be repaired. Crappy design not intended for durability. I dislike designed obsolescence, and find it to be a pretty shitty sales tactic. Still, I’ve had (and worn) these boots for almost 3 years and they’ve lasted pretty well…

The bare trees are full of little birds.

I sit awhile watching a variety of small birds hopping about and flitting among the bare branches of the oaks that dot the meadow. There’s a hint of soft green beginning to show like a haze when I look at the trees from a distance. Spring is coming. I think about the world for a moment, more worried about war than I’d like to be. It feels real and potentially imminent in an uncomfortable way, and creates a sorrow deep within me. I thought we were past this, but no. Evil still exists in the world. Human primates are neither fully domesticated nor are they “civilized”. Am I prepared to deal with it? I sigh to myself grateful for a full tank of gas and my gear in my car. Even recognizing how little that really prepares me for, it gives me some comfort.

… I definitely need boots I can walk in comfortably over a long distance…

The Chaotic Comic wants to get together for brunch. Maybe tomorrow? I’d enjoy that. I sit awhile longer, letting my foot and ankle recover a bit before I head back to the car – at a slower,  more considerate pace. I think about my choices, and what I look for in a sturdy boot, before I begin again

Yes, the boots, and the shopping, are metaphors. Choose wisely; how you equip yourself for the journey matters.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, War and News of War, winter, Words

Like an Old Friend

February 27, 2026 //
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I got the call yesterday evening. My car was ready to be picked up from the body shop. It’s been two… three? Three weeks, since I had dropped it off. I think. Close enough. I’ve been enjoying the comfort and luxury features of my Traveling Partner’s pickup. It’s very nice.

… I already miss the heated steering wheel and seats. 😆 The view is quite different, too. It defrosts faster on a cold morning, and has such a smooth ride! I already know that I will replace my current vehicle with the same make as my Traveling Partner’s truck, having determined the SUV in their product line will suit me nicely. That time is not now… lol

The Anxious Adventurer gave me a ride over to the body shop. I walked past my car looking over the repair work. Wow. Like new. I mean, I guess that’s the point. I slid into the driver’s seat gently, and readjusted the seat position and the mirrors. I start it up…no squeak. I pull out, getting the feel of it again; it’s very different from the pickup. Less luxurious. Less…(or…more?) of something else I can’t put my finger on. Feels weird, but also very comfortable and familiar. I like this car. But…? Yeah. It has its quirks and shortcomings.

From the trail, the vehicle doesn’t matter.

I drove to the trailhead this morning, feeling pleased to be back in my car again. I do enjoy the truck when I drive it, but it isn’t mine. I don’t like leaving my Traveling Partner stuck at home either, now that he can drive when he wants to. I chuckle at myself for being vexed that timing will prevent me from reloading my gear into my car before the end of the work day. I let it go. It’s not urgent.

I head down the trail into the fog. It’s a chilly morning. The season seems uncertain whether to be winter or Spring. I love hitting the trail at a time of morning to see the sunrise. This morning it is bold orange, veiled by the fog, creating a strange diffuse glow on the morning horizon. To the west, only fog, and the trail disappearing into it.

Friday, at last. It’s been that kind of week. I sigh to myself. I’d eagerly drive somewhere and try a new trail this weekend, but I need new boots before I do that. The car is due for an oil change, too. I  feel fairly certain there were other things I want or need to do this weekend, but I can’t recall them now.

I breathe, exhale, and relax, tasting the cold morning air and watching the sun rise. I stretch and sigh quietly. It’s already time to begin again.

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