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Are We There Yet?

March 14, 2025 //
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I’m sipping my coffee and thinking about Spring. This is not one of those rare years when I could afford to be careless or casual about resources as Spring approached. My thoughts are in the garden, but I can’t be eager or easy-going about spending money on the garden. I have plenty of seeds – do I have the patience to wait for seedlings to sprout? The new raised bed I want? That comes at a cost (in money and labor). The time is, perhaps, not now. I’m planning with more care, with an eye on the near and long-term future. I’m making a plan. The clock is ticking. Other things are, maybe, more important. What matters most? I sit with my thoughts and my coffee, gazing out into the early morning sky through the office window.

A new day, a new beginning.

Thinking, planning, daydreaming – the future is a playground, but it isn’t real, yet. The future is all possibilities, opportunities, and choices. We can make it what we want it to be – with some effort, and some careful decision-making, and some luck. There are verbs involved. Chance and change will call some of the shots. The path is not reliably clear, or reliably smooth. We make our own way, each having our own experience, each having to clear the hurdles of unanticipated circumstances, and the consequences of our actions. I’d like to be in the garden right now. I could walk away from work and go do that, but… consequences. I sip my coffee, breathe, exhale, and relax.

When did chicken become almost $10 per pound?!

I’m in considerable pain this morning (it’s just my arthritis, and there’s nothing much to be done about it besides endure with some measure of grace). I’m thinking about that distant future… if I hold out and don’t retire before I’m 70, and keep this job, my social security retirement will pay about half what I make, working. That’s livable, especially with my VA disability compensation, my Traveling Partner’s income (whatever it may be then), and the potential for having paid off the mortgage (a goal) and keeping other bills low (another goal). So many choices and verbs – so much potential, so little certainty.

What is blooming in your garden? What have you planted?

I sigh to myself and look out at the sky, thinking about the primroses blooming in the garden. It’s a rainy morning. There are probably raindrops clinging to the petals. Maybe the deer have come to the garden to look around for a tasty rose to nibble on? The roses are doing well this year, so far. I smile at the thought – it doesn’t take much to make me “happy”, for most values of happiness, now that I understand better what it is I need from life to thrive and be well. I’ve learned to rely on building lasting contentment and savoring small joys to get me through difficult times – because those things are easily within reach, can be practiced, and are enough. I’ve learned to avoid “chasing happiness” – it’s a trap. Happiness will find me when it finds me, and most often when I’m not looking for it. That’s enough.

I sip my coffee, and think my thoughts. Lavender to keep the deer away from the roses, maybe? Scented Geraniums to discourage insects? My Traveling Partner confirmed with me that he would be okay with that (allergies can make a person’s life a living hell, so I check in with him about flowers and such). I’m eager to do something about that. The ideas tickle my imagination and distract me. I’m grateful that it is Friday. I’m eager to finish the work day and begin again on other things, and to walk a path in Spring time. There’s a garden to tend and a future harvest to plant. (Yes, it’s a metaphor.)

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Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, joy, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Practices, Roses, Spring, The Art of Being

Waking Up to a Plan

January 7, 2025 //
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This morning I woke up feeling subtly different about “things”, generally. It wasn’t a huge obvious change of heart or significant shift in mindset, but there was definitely a hint of a sense of purpose that feels more focused. I like having a plan. A bit of self-reflection can go a long way toward “lighting the path ahead” – like wearing a headlamp on a dark trail. It’s no substitute for sunlight, but it’s better than wandering around in the dark.

I’m sipping my coffee and taking a look at my notes from yesterday. It’s not a detailed plan, just a handful of notes. Something more like a notion of what landmarks to look for on a memorized route than an actual map. For example, “read more bound books” isn’t very specific at all – but I also have an actual stack of books to read, and a list for more that I’d like to read once I’ve finished the stack I’ve got. Now that’s a plan. Well… no. That’s an intention, backed up by physical tools to get the thing done. My plan is to take advantage of quiet time in the evenings to read a bit, and on weekend mornings when my Traveling Partner is sleeping in (when I can’t quite start on housekeeping chores and such because I’d make too much noise), those are good times for reading. If I wake during the night, I’ve got another good opportunity to read a chapter or two, before returning to sleep. That’s a plan. Making it all come together is about the actual actions, and as I said, this morning I woke feeling focused and purposeful – and not just about reading more bound books, there’s more to my notes than that, more that I’d like to do, to live, and to change. So… there are definitely verbs involved. Life to live. Choices to make. We become what we practice, and I’ve plenty of practice ahead of me in the new year.

This morning I am feeling hopeful and encouraged about life, in spite of the chaos of the world. Yes, there’s a lot of distressing horrible shit going on in the world, but very little of that is happening in my little town, and none of it in my home or at my job, and I don’t mean to be selfish or self-centered about this, I’m just saying there’s more to life than the outrage machinery of the media, or the horrors of foreign wars. It’s okay to also embrace hope, and enjoy… joy. In fact, it’s probably healthy, and helpful. So, I make a point of it. I’m not ignoring the shit that needs changing in the world – I’m merely “filling the tank” so that I have the endurance for this race, and the resolve to speak truth to power, and the will to do what I can to make positive changes, even if that is only raising my voice without shame to say “this is wrong, we can do better”.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I’m already thinking about distant trails, and afternoons camping in forested places. It’s winter now, but Spring will come again. I think about my Dear Friend for a moment. She “gave up” too soon, I’ve often thought. A great many things that we human beings do are more than a little “use it or lose it” in practice. You can love hiking, but if you don’t hike, it slowly becomes more difficult until it’s not easily done at all. This is true even of movement, generally. I don’t want to follow that path, myself, don’t want to “give up” too soon – so I keep walking. I keep camping. I keep working in my garden. (Well, that last is presently a bit aspirational; my untended garden full of weeds vexes me every time I walk past. I can do better. It’s on my list.) It’s easy to feel the fatigue and the pain and to want to just… rest. It’s a risky choice to rest too often for too long. It can too easily become a sedentary life of inactivity and malaise. I keep walking. I keep beginning again. One more step. One more task. Another project. Life is full of verbs.

I look at my calendar – I see a new physician next week. The week after that, an old friend (The Author) will visit – I’m excited about that. I haven’t seen him since… 2016? 2017? 2018. It’s been too long. The week after that I get my hearing aids. Busy January. The path ahead unfolds step by step. I look over my notes; it’s not about “ticking boxes”. It’s my life. I want to live it. I’m enjoying making time for more reading. I’m enjoying refreshing my Czech language skills. I’ll try out a new recipe tonight – probably. I skipped my walk this morning, and it serves as a powerful reminder that consistency is also a practice. (Every day that I don’t walk a trail is a day that reduces the likelihood of hitting that 1k trail mile target, I remind myself unnecessarily.)

I sigh quietly to myself, and stretch. I’m 61 as I sit here – 62 in June. How much time do I have left? What do I want to do with it? How do I live my best life for the longest amount of remaining time? What matters most? I don’t “feel old” – but I also don’t feel young. Today’s a pretty good day – I’m not in a lot of pain (call it a 3 on a 1-10 scale, which is honestly pretty good for me). There’s more yet to do – and doing it from a perspective of presence and mindful awareness changes the experience for the better. I smile and sip my coffee and push up my sleeves. It’s time to begin. Again.

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, joy, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, The Art of Being, War and News of War, weight loss secrets, winter

Viewed Through a Different Lens

January 5, 2025 //
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Perspective is an interesting thing. Change the context, or vantage point of an observed thing, and it may look quite different. Change the filter or lens on a camera, and the pictures are transformed. Zoom in, or step back, and what is revealed changes. Scale in comparison to other things may alter the apparent importance of something experienced or observed. A change of perspective has as much to do with our understanding as a change to the facts themselves. How interesting is that?

I woke earlier than I planned. Earlier than necessary at all, but once I was awake, there wasn’t much point in hanging about at home waiting for an unexpected opportunity to make a household-waking amount of noise inadvertently. I dressed, made coffee for my Traveling Partner, and got on with things. Somewhere between the front door and the trailhead, sleepiness caught up with me, and getting up so early now feels foolish. I parked the car just as the rain began drumming on the roof. Well, shit. I sit back a bit, listen to the rain sleepily and watch the clouds cross the sky while I wait for a break in the rain sufficient to walk the trail comfortably.

I am thinking about the “lens” through which I view the world. It’s a useful metaphor for perspective. I think about the necessity of “polishing the lens” for accuracy through education, fact-checking, and testing assumptions. I think about taking a closer look at events and experiences for a deeper understanding by way of “increasing the magnification” as one might with the lenses of a microscope. I consider how many lenses my eye doctor uses to get my prescription on my glasses just right, and the many comparisons between lenses that process requires. The lens is as excellent metaphor for perspective and clarity of thought. I sit contentedly, listening to the rain, and considering things through a variety of “lenses”.

…It makes sense to view the world through a variety of lenses, and to build nuanced understanding through considering things from more than one perspective…

My tinnitus rings and chimes and buzzes loudly in my ears and I am sleepy. My mind wanders. That’s okay, I’m not in any particular hurry and it’s still raining quite hard. The clouds are a pale soft gray against the darkness of the night sky. I find myself wondering if the new administration really will manage to put an end to the bullshit back-and-forth of the Daylight Savings Time changes we put ourselves through each year. If they do, which way will they go: permanent DST, or the other? I consider each option from several points of view and realize I’m not actually certain which I’d prefer, myself. I can see value to either, depending on the lens I choose. Summer hikes? Winter commutes? Sleeping in? Camping? Gardening? Children going to school? People with seasonal affective disorder? This lack of certainty tends to suggest it may be tough to bring about such a change, if many people are similar conflicted or uncertain. I find myself wondering, too, who will have the loudest voices and most money to spend on influencing the outcome.

I yawn drowsily as the rain stops. Seems a good time for my wandering mind and I to hit the trail. I put on my boots. They feel heavy on my feet this morning. I hang my headlamp around my neck. It dangles loosely, pointing toward my feet. I pull on my fleece over my sweater and stuff my rain poncho into my back pocket, just in case. Time to walk a couple miles in my own shoes. Time to stay on my path. Time to see the world with new eyes from a new perspective.

… Time to begin again… again.

A familiar walk from a different perspective, and through a different lens.
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Categories Allegories, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, Logic & Reason, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Practices, solo hiking, The Art of Being, winter

The After Math

December 26, 2024 //
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Alright, People, here we all are, Giftmas is over, and it’s time to get back to work, do the math, pay the bills, and pay attention to what’s going on around us. It’s time to begin again, isn’t it?

…What a lovely holiday it was…

A nice little stack of books.

Among my gifts this year, a book that may well be among the most important I’ll ever read (I’ve already started it). On Tyranny, by Timothy Snyder. I definitely recommend it.

Among the most attention-getting, thought-provoking videos I watched this holiday season was “Why Billionaires Should Be Illegal” by The Market Exit. I recommend both the video and the channel.

Isn’t it time to “level up”? Your survival may depend on it… Just saying, it wouldn’t hurt to continue to learn, and grow, and develop your intellect, and to think critically about the world. Standing around being outraged by the latest repeat of the news and firing off annoyed social media posts is sort of … ineffective, wouldn’t you say? It’s quite likely that people in power count on you being ineffective, ill-informed, and emotionally over-stimulated. My opinion. Perhaps I think too much…

I enjoyed some “me time” this week, focused on art, thinking about next steps for enhancing my selection of hues in my [relatively recently] chosen medium of pastels. I’d rather not compromise on quality or personal preference, and in my case that means I’ll need to break things down and plan ahead; colors are expensive. It’s worth it to put this amount of consideration into something I love so much (a lesson well-learned). I looked over my plan again this morning over my coffee, while some other portion of my brain thought about the book I’m reading, and the state of the world. Which colors must come first to say what I don’t have words for? It’s something I think about a lot.

No walk this morning. The wind was blowing ferociously, and the rain was falling hard – sideways. The streets were littered with downed tree branches, and in a couple spots there were road closures. As I drove toward the trailhead, in the direction of the office, I passed through Newberg; all the lights were out, and the signal lights at each intersection were dark. I passed through Sherwood, too; the lights were out, here and there, and the traffic signals at intersections were all flashing red in all directions. There was lightening at regular intervals in the sky to the north. Nope. No walk today. I went on to the office. It’s empty, and I have this space alone this morning. I arrive first; no coffee. There’s a sign at the reception desk – no receptionist today. They’re on holiday. It’ll likely be a very quiet day here. I pour a cold brew into a clean glass and get started. It’s definitely time to begin again.

…5 days until the clock runs out on 2024…

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Categories 2024 Election, Allegories, art and the artist, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Practices, The Art of Being, War and News of War, winter, Words

And Then What?

December 12, 2024 //
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Another quiet morning. Another day closer to the Solstice and to Giftmas and to a new year. Another moment to reflect and breathe and be. Another moment of this very human experience. Another moment to choose and to act and to accept the consequences. I sip my coffee, iced, black. I feel calm, and little chilly; the office is not particularly warm, nonetheless I’m grateful for the quiet calm space.

It was raining too hard for a walk this morning, and when I arrived at the trailhead the small parking lot outside the gate was filled by several battered old RVs (clearly dwellings) and trash newly strewn about. I didn’t feel comfortable staying, so I drove on into the office. I know the park staff will clear those folks out after the day begins; there’s no camping permitted there, and they’re quite strict about it. As I drove away, I felt a familiar concern and compassion – where will those people go? Why are they having to live that way? What the hell do we do about the problem of homelessness? I can’t help thinking that generally speaking, it is a problem that ought not exist at all, but I’m aware that life has become so incredibly costly (rent, bills, medical care, groceries, connectivity, education…) that more than a few people end up literally unable to afford the expenses of a completely ordinary American life. My mind pauses on that healthcare CEO who was shot in the streets; people are angry, and healthcare is stupidly expensive (and not very good quality in many cases), and it’s not the patients causing that.

Some of life’s problems are damned difficult to figure out. Sometimes the solutions are obvious, but there is a profound reluctance to pay the price to solve the problem. Messy. Adulting is hard.

I remember a conversation with my father when I was a ‘tween…

Me: That seems so unfair!
Dad: The world isn’t fair.
Me: Why isn’t the world fair, though?
Dad: That’s not the right question to ask.
Me: I don’t understand – shouldn’t we be trying to make the world more fair?
Dad: You’re being naive. You’ll understand when you’re older.

Funny… I still don’t understand why we aren’t all working together to make the world more fair. I’m definitely older.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. The office is quiet and comfortable. I’ve got a routine day of work ahead. I’d rather be painting, but there’s a price to pay to live the life I do, and it’s the work ahead of me that pays for it. I sip my coffee, and enjoy this few early minutes of solitude and reflection. Being chilly is a distraction, but the thermostate is locked and I can’t change the settings. There’s a metaphor there, isn’t there? We may have an idea of a solution to a real life problem – but we may be “locked out” of making the change we think is required. That’s something to think about. Be compassionate; you don’t know what other people may be going through, or what limitations and hurdles they have to face just to survive. It’s cheap to be kind.

I stare at my iced coffee with a frown. I chose poorly. Hot coffee would have been a better choice. I laugh at myself in the quiet – humans being human; sometimes even when we have the information to make a wise choice, we choose poorly. There are consequences.

It’s time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, autumn, breathe, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, Healthy Living, meditation, Metaphors, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Practices, The Art of Being
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