Archives for posts with tag: we become what we practice
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Bang!

March 12, 2026 //
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First, I’m fine. I’m okay, and there’s nothing amiss in this moment. That is an important detail.

I woke abruptly to a loud noise and a sense that something was seriously wrong. I woke fully triggered and in “overdrive”, ready to react to danger – of whatever unknown type there might be. There was nothing going on of the sort I could do anything about, it was only a loud noise. A door slamming somewhere, but it could have been anything or nothing at all; along with the PTSD, I am sometimes afflicted with “exploding head” nightmares. So… suddenly waking up in a panic, fully triggered, is not an unknown sensation for me.

I’m okay. My Traveling Partner is also okay for most values of okay, though he didn’t sleep through the night. I’m grateful that he isn’t hurt. When I woke that was my first (only) concern.

I dressed and headed to the trailhead. It’s raining. Today I don’t care at all, and I’ll feel better after I burn off this adrenaline fueled energy in a healthy way. My heart is still pounding and I was trembling for awhile. In every practical sense, though, I’m okay. Years of practice have given me more resilience. Totally worth the effort, though at the time, in the moment, the discipline of practicing practices often feels a little pointless. There’s no obvious immediate return on the effort… Well… It’s subtle and not obvious. The gains are there.

…I pull on my poncho and find my headlamp…

This is my path and I’m walking it. 😄 A little rain isn’t going to stop me. I definitely need to begin again.

Seems to be very effective so far… probably doesn’t hurt that the path is mine, and that I choose it myself.

…

…

I get back to the car a bit damp but not drenched. The rain is still falling steadily. I couldn’t stop at my usual halfway point due to that bit of the trail being flooded, and the place I often sit being surrounded by a large muddy stretch and water. Nope. I just walked on. By the time I reached that point I was feeling relaxed and merry. Ready for a new day. It’s enough.

The path ahead isn’t always smooth and well lit. There are going to be rainy days. There will be obstacles along the way, and detours. Being prepared for those is sometimes a matter of acceptance and a willingness to adapt to circumstances. PTSD screams that something is an emergency, though nothing is “wrong” in that kind of way at all. Sometimes a noise is just a noise. Being able to bounce back once I’m triggered is a pretty notable win for me.

I breathe, exhale and relax. I take a few minutes for meditation in the car. It’s already time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, breathe, gratitude, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, women, Words

Rainy Days

March 11, 2026 //
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It’s a rainy morning. I reach the trailhead ahead of the sun and listen to the rain falling. I watch an interesting video, and wait for a break in the rain. I pull my rain poncho from my gear bin when I get my opportunity and set off down the trail in the darkness.

Even once I get to this convenient stopping point more or less midway, I’m still groggy. I’m struggling to really wake up. It’s my own fault, I guess. I woke around 03:00 having to pee, and went back to bed although my wake-up time was only a couple hours away. As I drifted back to sleep I remember thinking I was for sure at risk of achieving deep sleep but waking too soon. Getting up at that hour wouldn’t allow for a second sleep, and would have been much too early. I’d have risked resetting my sleep cycle. I sigh to myself. Groggy it is then, I guess.

I’m in more pain than I’ve been enduring most mornings lately. It’s annoying, but demonstrates how effective the new medication really is. I’m grateful for the medical science that produces effective medication and the agencies that oversee and assure quality and safety. I’m appalled by fuckwits attacking science, medicine, and safety standards. Fucking hell, fund the right stuff you giant jackasses. Healthcare instead of bombs, maybe? Also, get vaccinated, and only vote for knowledgeable ethical people to represent you in government. (And if your response is that there are no ethical politicians, I’ll point out that this may be the heart of the problem.)

I sigh to myself. I’m cranky with pain, waiting for my medication to kick in.

I sit with my thoughts awhile. There will be more rain. That’s the sort of place we live. Rainy, often. I’m okay with that. I like the rain. Anyway, it passes. Change is.

I’m slowly becoming chilly. It’s not especially cold, just chilly and damp. I regret not wearing an extra sweater or a base layer, but it’s fine. I get to my feet and get ready to begin again. I look down the trail as the rain begins to fall, and walk on.

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

Nuance and Subtlety

March 9, 2026 //
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Chilly morning. It’s not seriously cold, but at 4.4C (40F), I definitely feel the air as chilly this morning. The morning feels darker than it has been at this time of morning. (Time for America’s idiotic attempt to force daylight to follow a new schedule. Ridiculous.)  None of this matters much. I’m rested, more or less over my cold, and feeling merry.

It’s Monday.

I started down the trail in the darkness, the light from my headlamp bobbing along with the steady beat of my footsteps. The feeling of merriment percolates within me. A new day is ahead of me and I feel loved and encouraged, which is a great way to begin a day (and a week).

There’s a new (muddy) temporary detour on this trail due to construction (and agriculture). I step carefully, avoiding slipping or falling. I’m grateful I knew the detour would be where it is. Unexpected muddy detours in the darkness are a more serious hazard than those detours I know to expect. This is true in life as well.

As I walk I think ahead to coffee. I pull myself back to this moment here, and immediately find myself reflecting on the weekend. I pull my focus back to this moment, again, and walk on. Eventually I reach my halfway point and write a few words with stiff fingers. Chilly morning. I’m okay with it.

… and if I weren’t okay with it? What then? 😆

I reflect awhile on the challenge of finding balance between simply being and self-awareness. I watched an interesting (and deeply considered) video about self-awareness yesterday. It provided food for thought and a lot of nuance to something I hadn’t considered so deeply before, myself.  I’ll probably watch it again.

Daybreak finally touches the sky. I can make out the trail now, without my headlamp. A useful metaphor for life and experience, I suppose. I smile to myself and prepare to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, art and the artist, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, Logic & Reason, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, Words

New Boots, Familiar Trail

March 7, 2026 //
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My new boots arrived yesterday. I eagerly put them on this morning. I wisely didn’t immediately chuck out my old ones; I don’t know how much break-in time the new pair may need. So far they are decently comfortable.

First steps feel like a new beginning – because they are.

I have on my favorite pair of thick alpaca hiking socks, and these boots feel like they have room for cushioned orthopedic insoles, too. Feels like a win. My gait though is altered just enough to feel different. The boots have a relatively tall sole, adding an inch to my height and changing where I “think my foot is” in space. I chuckle when I recall getting into the car… the first two attempts were just me awkwardly figuring out why, instead of easily sliding into the driver’s seat, I was getting hung up when I tried to put my foot into the car. 😆

… I’m a human primate; I figure shit out…

The morning feels like a lesson in avoiding making assumptions, and perhaps new boots are a useful metaphor. I get to my halfway point. Short walk. Familiar trail. I’m out of breath though, thanks to this fucking head cold. I sit down and cough and sneeze my way through an entire pack of travel tissues, grateful to have brought along two.

I smile to myself contentedly. I am enjoying the morning, and the weather is mild. No work today and I will return home to a human being who loves me dearly. The greatest wealth I’ve ever known is in this love I share with the singular human being who is my Traveling Partner on life’s journey. I breathe, exhale, and… have a coughing fit. I try again. (Damn, fuck this head cold though! 😆 I could definitely do without it. I remind myself that it will pass. Impermanence is more permanent, by far, than a head cold.) I add cough medicine to my shopping list, and sit quietly with my thoughts for awhile longer.

DST changes the clocks tomorrow. G’damn I fucking hate this bullshit. It’s so hard on my body. It changes the timing on all my medications and also makes us all look just a little stupid, as though we think moving the hands on the clock actually changes when the sun rises, or how many hours are in a day. 😂 Fucking idiotic.

I see hints that Spring is coming.

I shrug to myself, and let all that go. Spring is coming. I see it in a faint green haze beginning to show in the tops of distant oaks. Flowers are beginning to bloom along the trail, too. Lush green grasses and weedy plants fill the spaces between the vineyard rows. I love Spring. Funny, I often say that autumn is my favorite season, but I’m not certain that’s true, as I sit here inhaling the scents of Spring. I definitely know what I like. I like the solitary morning moments, and the time on the trail. I like returning home, knowing love waits for me there.

I’m grateful for the paved and level path while I break in new boots. (It’s a metaphor.)

I like beginning again. It’s my path, and it’s Spring. I’m okay with not knowing where this path leads. 😄

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, Words

But Coffee First

March 6, 2026 //
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The hot (so hot) coffee is soothing on my still raw feeling throat and warm in my hands. The morning is mild, and it rained during the night. This lingering cold was complicating my morning, so I picked up coffee on my way to the trailhead instead of after.

It was a good choice. Walking and drinking coffee at the same time makes for a slower, relaxed walk. I reach the halfway point at daybreak, even though I got started earlier than I have been.

Taking the moments as they come, enjoying them as they are.

I set my coffee down and reach for a tissue – and manage to kick over my coffee cup clumsily. Well, shit. I sigh to myself and shrug, picking up the cup. It’s not quite empty. I finish what’s left and crush the cup flat, and put it in my pocket.

Spilled coffee is not exactly high tension disaster. Once, a long time ago now, it might have been too much to bear, or felt like heartbreaking misfortune, in an unexpectedly fragile moment. My resilience was so poor then that any harsh word could crush me completely, and any misadventure, however minor, would wreck my day. I was aggressive, easily triggered, and prone to explosive emotional outbursts inappropriate in adult behavior. It’s not like that now, after years of practicing practices and building emotional resilience. Now I can even hear about heinous acts of pointless violence, and endure, without hours of weeping or withdrawal. I no longer “bear the weight of the world” on my own shoulders…at least not every day, all the time, until it crushes me like a paper cup. I make other choices and protect my peace.

I walk my own path.

…I care, and I do what I can, and freely speak my mind on troubling events in the world, and having taken care of my own heart, and my own peace, I can be more effective and speak with greater clarity…

I watch the gray rainy dawn bring a new day. It’s an ordinary enough day. Work…then the weekend, and the first trail mile in new boots. I’m looking forward to it. This stupid head cold vexes me. I could do more, better, without it. I sigh and start a coughing fit. Once it passes I breathe the fresh air deeply. It already tastes of Spring.

The new medication for my neuropathic pain actually seems to help fairly profoundly without making me stupid, knocking me out, or causing some nasty side effect worse than the pain. I’m enjoying the improvement. It has even “turned down the volume” on my tinnitus quite a bit. I’m grateful to my Traveling Partner for encouraging me to keep seeking a solution, and for sharing his experience on various medications he’s been given. We are not “the same”, but we are both human, and have similar physical challenges. Similar enough in some cases to learn a lot from talking about our experiences together, and supporting each other. I am fortunate to have this partnership.

A soft misty sprinkle begins to fall. No winter here, this year, not really. I sigh and chuckle; I enjoy the misty rain drops on my face. Still… the rain gets me to my feet, ready to begin again.

However straight and obvious life’s path seems at a glance… I can’t quite see where it leads.
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Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, War and News of War, winter, Words
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