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Time and Aggravation (updated)

June 20, 2024 //
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I’m sitting next to the trail on a convenient bench, having paused on the way back to the car from my morning walk. I was up too early and started the morning vexed by interrupted sleep and my Traveling Partner’s cross tone, but otherwise it’s a lovely morning, and the sunrise was pleasant. I’m working on it getting over my shitty mood, because at this point I am still the only person being affected by it, and it’s just fucking dumb to endure this shit.

… This is already shaping up to be the sort of day where I just don’t want to see or talk to anyone. At all. Unfortunately, that’s rarely an option on a work day. I sigh out loud and prepare myself for the inevitable requirement to deal with people…

There are still flowers to enjoy along the trail.

Fuck this headache and this shitty mood. Just saying… I’ve got to begin again. Maybe more than once.

My Traveling Partner pings me and asks me to work from home after my walk. I agree, understanding that he needs help with things. I try to avoid feeling cross about it and look for opportunities to feel grateful that I can so easily be there for him.

… Just begin again, again, I tell myself…

My thoughts had started somewhere else entirely this morning, but my crappy mood, early wake up, and headache derailed my more positive musings about time and watches. I’m annoyed by that. The morning is off to a poor start in spite of the beautiful sunrise. Fuck. This. Shit. I really need a do-over, but the best I’ll get is a new beginning. Hell, that’s not a bad thing… But my results may vary. Success is not guaranteed. This is a very human experience.

… Breathe, exhale, relax…

Begin again.

…

Some time later (about 2 hours):

The future isn’t written. Change is. It’s important to be able to see a win when circumstances bring it, and to accept success when it is offered. Life is a peculiar journey some days, and the path is not clearly marked. It’s a bit later in the morning, and my day quickly went from “what the fuck?!” and “why do I even try??” to “what a nice day this is…”, over a short handful of minutes and an opportunity to pivot to the win when it came.

…I’m grateful for my Traveling Partner…

I got a lucky break this morning, when my Traveling Partner reached out to me as I headed back home to provide support and care-giving during the work day; he was doing better. He encouraged me to follow my original plan for the day, and asked me to run an errand on my way home, instead of working from home, after all. I could have let that additional change cause me further stress… and it would have been quite like me to do that, years ago (and considering how human I am, it’s always a risk, eh?). Instead, I allowed myself to change, then change again, and here I am. It feels like a lovely morning. There’s something to be learned from this.

…I hope I learn it…

…I begin again. Again. It’s a lovely day for it. 😀

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, health, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being

Steps Toward Change

June 19, 2024 //
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I’m sitting on this rock, alongside the trail. It’s a Wednesday, but I’m off work, which is a nice change. I’m more or less “moved in to” my new phone, but as is often the case with such things (for me), there’s still a lot to do and quite a few small differences to learn. I’m okay with the process and I have my Traveling Partner’s help, and he’s very familiar with this operating system. I like the new phone better than the old one.

… The novelty is probably good for my brain, too…

Yesterday, just about as my energy was running out, my partner asked me gently and encouragingly “what are you going to do to take care of yourself, though?”. It was a good question. My answer was that I’d have a shower and maybe move into the new phone. Pretty low standard for self-care. lol

That question is bigger than one evening, isn’t it? With my partner being injured, I tend to run myself ragged taking care of him, the household, the day-to-day errands, and bringing in a paycheck (and health insurance) and there’s often very little left in a day “for me”. I’m not even bitching, just aware that I am pushing myself hard.  I have these quiet mornings (and I am grateful), but I reliably fail to be as attentive to my needs as a human being as I am to the many other things I’ve got going on, that often seem more urgent, in the moment. So few hours in a day, and the clock is always ticking. I do need to figure this out.

A wildflower on the trail. A picture with a new camera.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I glance at my poor hands; they are a mess of small wounds from unnoticed near-constant picking and tearing at my cuticles. Pure stress. It’s very telling. Just weeks ago my hands were fine, and even well-manicured. My self-care is slipping. Human.

I take time for meditation, sitting here in the morning sunshine, at the halfway point on this walk. I carefully refrain from chewing on my fingers. It takes an act of will to remain mindful and aware. It’s a practice worth practicing. I definitely need the practice.

Another breath. Another moment. I know it is important to be kind to myself, and to take care of this fragile vessel. It also takes practice, and time I often don’t feel I have. It’s complicated. I can only do so much. It’s important to choose wisely. Artistic work is one way I take care of myself. I’m eager to make time for the new pastels.

… I’m feeling eager and inspired, and also a tiny bit hesitant; change is complicated…

… For now, it’s enough to sit in the sunshine on a familiar trail, feeling the soft Spring breeze tickle my skin, and smelling the scent of flowers. Soon enough it will be time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, Art, art and the artist, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Spring, Summer, The Art of Being, Uncategorized

New Day, New Inspiration

June 18, 2024 //
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I’m sipping coffee and taking a moment after my morning walk. I’ll head to work, next, but this quiet interlude is mine. I’m sitting quietly, looking out into the view beyond and contemplating how I might capture this view in acrylic, in watercolor, in oil, or in a wholly new medium for me – in pastels.

Light and shadow, and an ordinary view.

I am content to sit here with my thoughts, even for hours. This is a pleasant moment.

I’ve tidied up my studio such that I can actually make use of it. Along the way I found an old cigar box with an unexpected treasure within – two small sets of pastels, an assortment of neon colors and an assortment of iridescent colors, looking very much unused since whenever they were purchased. I don’t recall buying them. The shoebox itself is one that one of my parents had used to send me something… sometime around 1995? Older? Old, for sure.

A fun surprise.

I continue to feel inspired by the thought of exploring a new medium, artistically. I picked up a selection of good quality pastels at the local art store, and some appropriate paper, and ordered some woodless colored pencils and pastel pencils. A small price to pay for the joy and growth yet to come.

Colors. Joy in a box.

For a moment, I feel impatient to begin, then chuckle at my human foolishness, because I have already begun! This moment, right here, now, is part of the experience. I smile and breathe it in. Inspiration. Joy. Enthusiasm. Eagerness. Delight. Wonder. It’s quite delicious and I am grateful to enjoy this moment.

I take time to really savor this pleasant moment, and to really “fill my cup” with this quiet joy.

The sun continues to rise. The clock continues to tick. It’s already time to begin again. I’m ready.

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Categories Allegories, art and the artist, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, Spring, Summer, The Art of Being

A Celebration of Survival

June 12, 2024 //
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Well, here it is… my birthday. 61. I’ve made it another year! Well done, me. lol

…I’m glad I’ve made it this far…

At birth, my cohort life expectancy was 73.4 years, although my familial longevity hints at my potential to be around much longer. (I’ve also got family members whose lives were much shorter… It definitely matters to take care of one’s health and avoid high risk activities.) My individual circumstances being what they have been, I wasn’t confident I’d get this far (in spite of my aspirational notion that I would like to see 2083…).

…I’m glad to be here…

No elaborate plans for the day, aside from quietly celebrating my survival thus far, and spending the day more or less doing what I’d like. I took the day off. My Traveling Partner is still on the injured list, so definitely available to enjoy the day with me, and also needing me to be available to help out and provide care. Managing an intimate connected balance being present for each other will probably guide the day. How else? We’re in this together.

…Maybe takeout from the French restaurant in town for dinner?..

I watch the sun rise from a local trail, walking with my thoughts, pausing to sit in the sunshine and write, before heading back to the car. I’ve survived 61 years of sometimes hard living and considerable trauma… but also joy, love, wonder, happiness, and an adequate measure of prosperity and success sufficient to see the here and now of my life become mostly pretty good. I’m loved. It’s a lovely day. Pretty good one for a birthday, for sure.

I think about the years to come… how many more, I wonder? 15? 20? 35? I walk along considering what sorts of things I can (or must) do to see the other side of 100 with my faculties and abilities intact. 40 more years of life as it is now would be pretty fucking splendid…

…Change is, though, and I have no idea what the future holds…

…It’d be pretty cool to make it to 120, I think, and to see how the world has changed…

I sigh, exhaling a deeply drawn breath of fresh meadow-sweet air. It’s time to begin again… Another year of practices. Another year of putting miles on these boots. Another year of living. It’s worth celebrating.

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Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, meditation, Moments, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, Spring, Summer, The Art of Being

Missing a Friend

June 11, 2024 //
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This is the sort of morning I would happily spend some time emailing my recently departed Dear Friend…

The sunrise from the trail this morning.

I would certainly share a picture of the sunrise, probably commenting on its beauty.  Recent years found my Dear Friend to have very limited ability to get around without help, and she wouldn’t see such a sight without pictures shared by friends. She often asked for details and anecdotes about my unassuming local travels. (I miss her, greatly.)

Tomorrow being my birthday, and having already received (and opened) gifts from my Traveling Partner, I would share those details with her, too. The context, the sentiment, why each gift delights me so, and the “back story”, if there is one, would all be shared and talked over together. She’d tell me why celebrating this birthday matters more than I think it does, and remind me that I am precious to her. She’d embarrass me a bit with praise, and point out how easily we can lose our abilities through disuse. She would encourage me to do more and go further. She would cheer me on and share my joy. If I were feeling beat down or defeated, she would laugh at my dark angry humor and give me her own wise perspective.

…She would slyly say nothing about some handmade delight she had sent my way, that would surprise me the day of my birthday with something more to open…

…Fuck I do miss you, my very Dear Friend…

Of the roses I planted this Spring with my Dear Friend in mind, one has bloomed. I grinned to see the colorful flower. I took a picture to share with her, forgetting for just an instant…    I shared it, instead, with another friend who was similarly close (closer, for years longer) with my Dear Friend, hoping it might bring her a smile, too.

“Rainbow Happy Trails” blooming in a corner of my garden.

I walked the trail this morning, watching the sun rise and the morning take shape. I breathed in the scents of Spring flowers and meadow grass as I walked along between river and marsh. I’m not really “sad” this morning, and the moment of poignant recollection passes without tears. I honor my Dear Friend through these memories and I am okay with missing her; she meant a lot to me, and our friendship got me through some hard times when I sometimes felt I had no one else to turn to. We could count on each other’s good will and affection, and we were there for each other through joy and hardship. That’s a beautiful thing.

…61, tomorrow… it is a bit weird not sharing it with her…

I walk on down the trail. I’ve got it to myself for now. I walk with my wandering thoughts. The work day will begin soon enough. When it does, I’ll begin again. Soon enough. Soon enough. No reason to rush. In the meantime, I walk with my thoughts and my memories, stopping at my halfway point to meditate, reflect, and write a few words about a very Dear Friend of mine. Time well-spent.

I finish up my writing and sit quietly awhile.   Photographers coming down the trail purposefully remind me that this is a work day. I check the time, happy to see I’ve got time to spare. Lovely morning.

…It’s the last day of being 60…

…I guess I’ll begin again…

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Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, Roses, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, turning 60, women
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