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This Is A Journey

December 28, 2025 //
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There is no map, only fellow travelers along the way willing to share a tip, or offer a warning. Listen or don’t, either way you’re making your own journey, and having your own experience. Sometimes you’ll be the dumbest person in the room. Sometimes it won’t be about you at all. Sometimes the path is clear, the way ahead smooth and steady. Other times, every day will present some new obstacle to be overcome. I guess I’m just saying…

…Keep walking (metaphorically speaking). The “way out” is through, and ultimately, the journey is the destination.

The co-work space is hushed and empty, this morning. I am alone for now, and it will be hours before anyone else shows up to do the things they do to bring home a paycheck, pay the bills, feed their families, and get by for another handful of mortal days. Yeesh. That sounds sort of gloomy, doesn’t it? I sigh to myself. I’ll admit that I’ve been yearning for some kind of retirement, or other opportunity to exit the treadmill of the modern workforce since I was… 17, and just joining the Army. Honestly, one of the selling points of that adventure was being able to “retire” at 38. I probably should have done more homework on that notion – since the practical truth of it is that very few people who retire from the military at 38 are actually able to properly retire at that point. Most go on to some second career, and work until some more typical retirement age, if they are able to retire at all. There’s no point holding back the truth of it; the military does not pay well. Those retirement benefits are often not sufficient to afford even a working-class quality of life, unless one is fortunate almost to the point of ridiculous luck, and living quite a charmed life, indeed. Again and again, I’ve looked ahead to some milestone and hoped to be done with “gainful employment” by then, only to find myself reaching that point quite unprepared to be able to retire (for a variety of reasons, some to do with me, some to do with circumstances). Our dreams and our realities don’t necessarily intersect in some fortuitous way that results in a fairytale life of leisure and good company. Mostly they don’t, actually, and we live the lives we work (sometimes too hard) to have, and we get by on some combination of circumstances and decision-making that falls short of our fantasties – that’s just real. No point being unhappy about that; reality does not care what we yearn for in our fondest daydreams. Everything we want in life has some sort of cost.

…Keep walking, and make wise choices…

I pull myself more upright, and take some deep cleansing breaths. My headache is not as bad today as it was yesterday, and I’m grateful – yesterday’s headache was much, and I got very little done as a result. My arthritis pain is what it is – and it’s winter, so what it is, is pretty awful. I shrug to myself, an expression of some combination of feeling resigned to it, and also being mostly rather unbothered by it; it has been part of my life, year after year, for close to 36 years now, slowly worsening over time. And if I had been offered a choice? Told about the arthritis is clear very certain terms? Would I have chosen not to have the surgery that kept me on my feet, and out of a wheelchair, in favor of some potential imagined future without the arthritis that would eventually develop in my spine? No, I would not have chosen to leave my shattered spine in the state it was in on some fantasy hope that it might magically heal on its own. There was no scenario – no realistic scenario – that was going to see me pain free in my 40s, 50s, and 60s. That would have been magical thinking, and the consequences would likely have been worse than any I deal with now. I’d have been seeing the world from a different vantage point, too (a wheelchair). Very few of the trails I am so fortunate to be able to enjoy walking are accessible to someone in a wheelchair. I take a moment for gratitude; I do love seeing those sunrises from the trail.

…Chronic pain is nothing if not ongoing. It could be worse, though. I got good sleep last night, and I face the new day feeling mostly pretty chill and comfortable, mostly pretty prepared. It is an ordinary enough work day, and the pain I’m in is manageable. I make a point to be grateful for that, too.

Are you making careful choices, or following along with someone else’s?

Our individual journeys are paved with our choices, our decision-making, our actions – and we’re walking a path that we largely create ourselves, moment-by-moment. Where does this path lead? Does it have any potential to take me to my goals? I sit with my coffee, reflecting on my life, my decisions, the consequences of my actions, and incremental changes over time. The new year is ahead. Am I the woman I most want to be? Are my day-to-day actions aligned with my values? Are my choices a reflection of consideration and will? Am I getting all I can out of this journey that is my lived mortal life? If I could change one detail of “who I am” effortless, like toggling a switch, what would that detail be? What would I change it to? Having identified this detail as something I’d like to change – am I prepared to then also make the choices and do the work to see it change over time? I think about how long it can take to make some kinds of changes really “stick”. It can be so much work! Sometimes the path seems unreasonably long as it stretches ahead of me. Sometimes that distance is an illusion. Your results may vary… We do become what we practice. Choose wisely.

…Keep walking…

I think about the pleasant holiday, and the weekend. I feel fortunate to have enjoyed both so thoroughly. I think about the gifts, the sweets, the moments, each so very beautiful, so delightful. We didn’t spend much (didn’t have much to spend), and that mattered not at all – it was all so well done, and there was so much love and genuine joy involved. The company was good. The food was good. The amount of consideration given to each other was exceptional. Presence definitely mattered more than presents, this year – and I’m grateful for all of it.

Stickers, and a novel I’ve never read – simple joys are worth savoring.

I sigh contentedly. I don’t need more out of this moment than I’ve already got. I’ve even got some time before work to enjoy a walk through this suburban neighborhood, still lit with holiday lights. After that? Another opportunity to begin again.

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Categories Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, joy, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, The Art of Being, The Big 5, winter

Taking a Week for Gratitude

November 24, 2025 //
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I’m in the co-work space this morning, and already set up for a new work day (and week). Short week; it is Thanksgiving this week, and for me that kicks off the winter holiday season, generally. Over the years, my thinking has evolved with regard to many of the holidays on the US holiday calendar, even Thanksgiving. When I was a child, I had a child’s perspective on this holiday. Family, feasting, and… pilgrims. Somehow, the USA made this holiday some sort of foundation myth of our national identity, but without the nasty bits. We glossed over land grabs and genocide with a hearty portion of turkey with stuffing and mashed potatoes with gravy, a side of corn, and big slices of pumpkin pie for dessert. Tradition.

For me, this holiday is not in anyway to do with the mythology of US identity, nor pilgrims, nor even the indigenous peoples we surely could have treated more ethically than we did. It is first and foremost, a harvest feast, a celebration of thanks for making it through another year of struggle, an opportunity to sit down together and share whatever abundance we have with each other, and exchange our gratitude and anecdotes along with our treasured recipes. It doesn’t need to be more than that. It never did.

My fondest Thanksgiving memories from childhood are of distant cousins coming to town to sit down for the most lavish meal of the year at Grandfather’s house. Family from as far away as the Dakotas and Texas would journey to coastal Maryland. The meal would be served at “the big table”, after a day of women in the kitchen, and men out hunting. Kids underfoot at the house would be enlisted to complete various chores, setting the table, carrying things up or down stairs, tidying up some shared space. The conversation among the women in the kitchen was often lively, and sometimes “scandalous” (if I understood what I was hearing). The men would return from hunting, in jovial moods, whether they were “successful” or not – it was the outing that was the thing, strolling the forest and hillsides in the crisp autumn air. I have dim recollections of occasional snow, and occasional football. I have clear recollections of stealing cookies from the big tins of holiday cookies baked by my Grandmother. (Her cooking wasn’t great, but she made fantastic cookies!)

My adult Thanksgiving memories span multiple partnerships and locations. They vary. The food was always good, generally the company was as well. Most of the time, people managed to set aside petty gripes and bullshit and drama, in favor of a merry holiday meal. Sometimes that wasn’t so easily done. Some years, the meal was a quiet one, just my partner and I. Other years, it was a busier affair with friends or family. I even enjoyed Thanksgiving quite alone once or twice, without sorrow or disappointment; they were lovely holidays, and I enjoy my own cooking. A couple times, we’ve gone out for Thanksgiving dinner, putting the time into other things, and the money into someone else’s work in the kitchen. Those were delightful celebrations, too.

I guess what makes it Thanksgiving for me is more about the intentional observance of giving thanks, together. The practice of making a moment to truly express and experience my gratitude for here, now, and the sufficiency of the moment is what makes it Thanksgiving, and not just a party or an elaborate dinner.

I begin the week thankful. The pantry is stocked with everything I’ll need to make Thanksgiving dinner. I’ve got a secure home, pleasantly warm, with indoor plumbing and highspeed internet access. I’ll enjoy the meal with people dear to me. I’m in love, and have the good fortunate to share my life with this person I love so dearly. I have what I need in life. I’ve got this job to pay for it all. It’s a lot to be thankful for, so I guess I should not be surprised that I can find opportunities for gratitude almost every day, and probably all week long. I smile to myself and sigh contentedly. Nothing lasts forever, I know, but wow this is one lovely moment, right here, now. I take time to enjoy it, before I begin again.

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Categories Allegories, autumn, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, joy, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being, Words

An Admission of Ignorance

November 9, 2025 //
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I arrived at the trailhead for my morning walk at daybreak. I didn’t expect a colorful sunrise, given the time of year, and the recent weather generally, but I also slept in this morning, which changed my timing. (Which has nothing to do with whether there would be a colorful sunrise, only the likelihood of seeing it.)

Mt Hood in the distance.

I parked, grateful for the quiet morning and the pleasant drive. Grateful for the simple good life I am fortunate to enjoy with my Traveling Partner. My mind wanders to my colleagues in the Philippines. They’ve had a rough year, multiple super typhoons, earthquakes, and even volcanoes erupting. I silently wish them well, hoping they are safe from harm, and reminding myself to check on them.

I set off down the trail, content to walk with my thoughts over unmeasured miles. I’ll get there when I get there, wherever “there” turns out to be.

Behind me, the sun rises.

I get to my halfway point, feeling light-hearted and calm, unbothered by the troubles of the world for the moment. Feels good. I haven’t looked at the news today, other than the weather. Weather reports are to news what cookbooks are to literature; generally very neutral, fact-based, and practical. I’d very much like it if all of the news were handled in a similarly practical factual way, but since that is not the situation in the year 2025, I have been making a point of not looking at that crap until later in the day, if at all.

…And you can’t make me 😂 …

How many times can I look at repeats of the same aggravating, outrage-stoking, needlessly provocative AI slop or partisan gaslighting without becoming (understandably) distressed or depressed? No thanks. I’ll accept a measure of predictable uncertainty and ignorance of world events in the moment. The most important details will still reach me, filtered through work channels or conversations with friends, or shared to me by my Traveling Partner, who understands better than anyone besides my therapist the effect too much of such things can have on me.

Are you old enough to remember adults in your life reading the newspaper? I’m talking about the folded paper newspaper that may have been delivered with a thump right to the doorstep each morning or maybe just on Sunday… Growing up, for me, that was my father and my grandfathers. (My recollection is that my mother and grandmothers were more inclined to read magazines and books.)

The pace of knowledge and news seemed slower before the rise of cable news, and later the Internet, and the words in each article, edition, or volume seemed more carefully thought out. Catching up on world events weekly wasn’t ridiculous – and it certainly seemed enough to fuel an entire week of conversation.

…Why do you need immediate real-time news 24/7, anyway…?

During my own lifetime, the pace of news delivery has accelerated beyond the point of new news being available to report at all, creating an opportunity for bullshit repeats, “clickbait”, sponsored content, and AI slop to thrive. That’s not good news for human thought. I think it began with the evening news on television (so convenient!), and quickly worsened with the coming of cable news channels. If it were all high quality, skillfully researched, factual, and with clearly stated agendas, biases, and the special interest groups backing it openly identified, the news might be a real value, and a useful resource. I don’t think it measures up to that standard, presently. I think it is reasonable to doubt the truth of most of what we see shoved at us as “news” these days. That’s definitely true of the laughably dishonest missives coming from the White House directly. It’s almost certain someone has a stake in controlling what we think as a population, no matter where we get our news. It makes sense to think critically about what we read, hear, and see that is presented as the news.

So…yeah. I guess I’m 100% okay with a measure of “ignorance” of the sort that results from carefully vetting news sources and just catching up once in awhile, or based strictly on work relevant topics and local news each week. I’m not okay with letting advertisers dominate my consciousness or cognitive processes, or letting notifications regulate my attention. I’ve been switching my phone to “do not disturb” more often (a lot), and carefully managing casual access to my attention. So far these steps have been very freeing in practical terms, and with some expectation setting, don’t seem to have created any great inconvenience for people who need to reach me. Helpful.

I sit watching the new day unfold, thinking my own thoughts. Delightful. I take time to meditate. To breathe. To be. I listen to huge flocks of geese passing overhead, and traffic whoosh past on the highway beyond the marsh. I breathe, exhale, and relax, and fill my attention with here, now. It’s lovely. On the pond’s edge, opposite where I am perched on this fence rail, nutria go about the business of being nutria. A youngster eyes me curiously and begins to makes it’s way nearer to me. The mother looks up, attentive, and some sound I don’t hear, or movement I don’t see, calls the youngster back to its mother. A small brown bird scratches in the leaf litter at the side of the trail. None of this is “news”, and all of it is more relevant to this moment of being, for me, as an individual.

I think of things my beloved Traveling Partner has said recently, about what is within our control, and how he seeks to manage stress through selective attention, relevance, and perspective. He’s right, too, and these are also things that have been emphasized in therapy over the years. Trying to control what we don’t have control over, and trying to fix things outside the scope of what we can directly act upon drives a lot of needless stress. Hell, even trying to have an opinion about something we just don’t actually know anything about adds to our stress! It can be a very stressful experience, this human experience. It is true that most of our suffering and stress are self-imposed, too, making it both “easy” to resolve, and also quite difficult.

(I didn’t say I had this solved, I’m just thinking about it.)

I sigh quietly, still managing to startle a chipmunk I hadn’t seen approach. I laugh merrily to see her dart away speedily, tail up. I smile toward the sky as I get to my feet to begin again. It’s a new day.

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Categories 2024 Election, Allegories, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, The Art of Being, The Big 5, War and News of War, Words

Unexpected Possum

November 7, 2025 //
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I woke unnecessarily early. My Traveling Partner, already up, looked in on me as I slept, “Are you okay?” he asked softly. “Mmhmm” I mumbled through my CPAP mask. I started to sit up, awake, to say something, but he was already gone. For a moment, I wasn’t sure he’d actually wakened me.

I got up.  It was already too close to that time, and even as groggy as I was, going back to sleep wouldn’t have gotten me more rest, and definitely would have caused me to struggle with being groggy all morning. I have a busy morning ahead and a brief presentation to give, I don’t have time to waste on being groggy. lol

I left the house in the usual way, but as I walked toward the car, I saw something bunched up at the edge of the yard. Trash? A plastic bag or…? Nope. It turned around and looked at me, with its strange white face and small black eyes. A possum (the biggest I’ve ever seen in person). She stared at me for a moment as if she didn’t quite believe it, either, before taking off awkwardly ambling quickly, then running – across the yard, through the rose bushes, and under the neighbor’s car. I lost sight of her there, though I heard her scrambling through leaves on the other side. I realized that I’d been just standing there watching, and moved on, myself.

Well… I guess that proves there are possums in the woods beyond the yard. I’m not saying I needed proof , but now I definitely know. lol (I considered taking a picture, but couldn’t get my camera ready fast enough, so quickly decided to enjoy the moment as it was.)

…Strange sort of morning so far…

Heading to the trailhead, I had to pull over for a few moments when a sneezing fit overcame me so thoroughly I couldn’t see to drive. Weird. I take a minute to deal with that, then drive on. As I reach the trailhead, I see the moon overhead, a luminous pearl of haunting beauty, resting among pillowy clouds. It looks full, but I think it is waning. I don’t care enough to look it up, I just enjoy the sight of it.

I pull into my preferred parking spot, and my headlights reveal a mature buck, standing just ahead, in the field adjacent to the parking. There something about his stance that hints at aggression, somehow, or a defensive reaction to something that he sees, but I don’t see anything alarming. I wait in the car until he walks on, my eyes scanning the strip of meadow, and the vineyard beyond, looking for hazards or threats. I don’t see anything. Maybe it was my arrival that vexed the buck as he stood minding his own business on a Friday morning at the edge of dawn?

The moon begins to sink lower as I begin my walk. “Aren’t we all just creatures living our lives?”, I think to myself as I head down the path. Possums and deer, coyotes and bobcats, geese and bluejays, jackasses and idiots, all mixed together in this peculiar world, each doing their own best to live their lives; it’s an interesting world full of adventure and opportunity, and things to see.

The jewel of the night sky.

There’s nothing noteworthy or remarkable about the first half of my walk. I get to my halfway point, enjoying the moonlight. Although I have my headlamp with me, I only turn it on when the clouds hide the moon. I love the ephemeral beauty of the moonlit trail. I don’t have a lot of opportunities to walk in the moonlight these days. I sleep better than I used to.

Four day weekend ahead, for me. Veterans Day is Tuesday, and I took Monday off, too. I don’t have exotic plans. It’s a “holiday” for reflection, and honoring comrades who made it home, but couldn’t carry on. I’ll make time to connect with colleagues from the Cold War era of my military service, and those with whom I went to war, later. There are fewer survivors these days. We are mortal creatures, and one day the last of us will perhaps be talking about me, and remembering me when.

… I hope I am remembered best for the woman I eventually became, and whatever good I have done, and not for the worst of who I once was in a life full of chaos and damage…

I sigh quietly. Gloomy thoughts for such a lovely morning, but at least I’m not having to fight thinking about work. I breathe, exhale, and relax. Such a busy mind. I take time to meditate and calm my mind. This few minutes of meditation in the morning helps set me up for lasting success all day. If I begin the morning spun up over stressful bullshit, and world events I can’t change, or work (before the work day even begins), the entire day feels frantic, stressful, and covered in “fail sauce”. I definitely don’t need that, and cultivating a consistent meditation practice and enjoying a solitary walk each morning has been a big change for the better. It took time and practice to get here, but it has paid off.

Daybreak comes. The moon disappears behind thick clouds that threaten rain. I frown at the stormy sky; I walked away from the car without my poncho this morning, distracted by moonlight. Shit. I should head back before it rains… I keep sitting quietly, enjoying the moment. I already know a little rain won’t do me any harm. It’ll be time to begin again soon enough, and these lovely moments are so fleeting in a mortal life.

A new day dawns – what will you do with it?

I sit awhile longer with my thoughts, watching the treeline take shape as daylight comes. A gentle steady rain begins to fall. I smile as I get to my feet, looking down the trail. Another beginning. Another opportunity to be the person I most want to be.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, The Art of Being, War and News of War

Little Things

November 6, 2025 //
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I take a breath and exhale completely. So far, it’s a good morning. Honestly, not really all that different from most other mornings, as far as the circumstances and practical factual details go. Most mornings start out pretty well, generally, in my experience. It’s the little things that make the difference; moments of aggravation or inconvenience, some little vexing interaction, a stubbed toe, a forgotten item only noticed on the other end of a long drive, miscommunication, mismatched expectations, some little disapppointment – any of these can result in the feeling of a crappy morning. How bad is it really, though, on any given day? I sip my coffee and think about that awhile.

I haven’t looked at the news today. There’s hardly any point, it’ll probably fit neatly into one of a small number of unimpressive categories: sponsored content, straight up advertising, “official” missives from the government that amount to actual fucking gaslighting, repeats of yesterday’s news copied again and again and spit out as AI slop, and opinion articles sharing the opinions of people whose opinions have no value to me. There is no point in immersing myself in that nonsense at all. I’d be better off reading Proust, by far. lol (If you think your attention span has been impaired by device use over time, making it hard to watch a 2-hour movie, get yourself situated – In Search of Lost Time, by Marcel Proust is 7 g’damned volumes of poetic prose maunderings. It’s a commitment. Still better than doomscrolling the news.)

I sigh quietly and smile. I’ve started reading Proust several times. I’ve yet to get past the first volume before wandering off to do other things and live life, and coming back to it after so much time has passed that I’ve got to start over. LOL Still manages to be a more worthwhile endeavor than doomscrolling some feed clogged with AI slop, by far.

I sip my coffee contentedly, grateful to have coffee at all, with the world in the state it is in right now. I breathe, exhale, and relax, and let that shit go, again. Now is not the time, really, and when it comes to being stressed out over distant events and people that we have no influence over, and whose actions barely touch our lives, well, that’s as pointless as expecting to read Proust “cover to cover” in an afternoon. It’s not a practical expectation, nor an efficient use of time. lol Instead, I take time for gratitude, and little things. It is a pleasant way to prolong a lovely morning, and to set up my day in a positive way. It is a practice well-suited to beginnings. With Thanksgiving (in the US) coming up pretty soon, it’s a strong step forward to make time for gratitude. It can be difficult to begin being grateful, if I’m vexed or irritated in some moment, but worthwhile then too; sincere gratitude quickly crowds out irritability, frustration, and anger. Handy sometimes.

It is the little things I’m often most grateful for, and the modern conveniences that I may sometimes take for granted even though elsewhere in the world (rather shamefully) they may be luxuries. Like… healthy food to eat, clean drinking water, indoor plumbing, high speed internet connectivity, wifi, and even this laptop from which I work each day – these all seem like relatively practical “necessities” in modern life, but I promise you they truly are not. I sip my coffee and reflect on my good fortune and my privileged circumstances. I’m lucky, indeed. Even luckier to have the partnership I do, and the cozy little home we share. I grateful for the skills that are valued by employers who have roles suited to my skills and my nature, such that I’m able to work – and even to work remotely, from home or wherever, and often on my own terms. I’ve got a lot to be thankful for. I’m grateful that my Traveling Partner’s healing has come so far, and that he is able to work in his shop again. I’m grateful for the housekeeping and help with chores that I get from the Anxious Adventurer each week. I’m grateful that my partner and his son both give me the space I need when I need it most, too. That’s a pretty big deal for me.

I smile to myself, feeling “filled up” on gratitude and ready to begin a new day. I’m walking my own path, and the circumstances and choices are my own – and I’m fortunate to enjoy the validation and agency that I do (unfortunately unusual even in the US). This path has brought me so far in such a (relatively) short time, and there is further to go. I’m grateful for that, too, and I’m ready to begin again. 😀

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Categories 2024 Election, Allegories, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being, The Big 5, War and News of War
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