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Overlooked Value & Unrealized Potential

December 30, 2025 //
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I woke from a deep sound sleep, surprised that it was “already” morning. The lights in the room had reached full brightness before my alarm woke me. This surprises me, but does not cause any anxiety; even waking with my alarm does not create any condition of “lateness”, it’s simply unusual for me to sleep to that point without waking on my own to some sound or perception of movement in the house (that may or may not be real). I get up, dress, and move through my morning routine until my feet carry me across the threshold of the front door, and out into the world. Hopefully, I managed not to wake anyone, but my Traveling Partner is a relatively light sleeper, and it is often the case that my departure (or some noise as I was dressing) will wake him, if not for the day for some little while. (I hope he slept; he needs the rest.)

I made the drive to the co-work space, as much for the time spent in thought as for any characteristic of being in an office. I’d happily work from home every day (and I’m set up for it, and have a job that expects it), but circumstances being what they are, and faced with the demands of basic consideration, and also just not liking having to “deal with people” first thing after I wake… it’s just easier to go somewhere else for a few hours, if not for the entire day, at least for the morning portion of it. I do everything I can to create some solitary time for myself to properly wake up, drink some coffee, and sort myself out before I interact with other people. I do everything I can to give my Traveling Partner that same opportunity. I consider it a matter of courtesy, but it is also entirely self-serving; I dislike drama or conflict when I’m “still waking up” even more than I dislike interacting with other people at that delicate hour, which is really saying something. The most effective means of avoiding all that is to be somewhere else, preferably where other people aren’t.

The co-work space is quiet. It’s early. I’m alone. There’s only the soft clicking of my fingers dancing across the keyboard, and the background noise of the ventilation. I sip my coffee (iced) and alternate with a hot cup of tea (chamomile & rose, with a bit of honey) to sooth my throat. My head aches, but it could be worse. My arthritis is griefing me, but again – I’ve had worse days than this. I am still fighting lingering symptoms of having been ill… and it’s been just a bit more than two weeks, now. (I knew what I was in for when the ick moved from my sinuses into my throat, then into my chest. I’ll fight this shit for weeks more, probably.) These fucking meat sacks are fragile and bothersome…but life, as it is, offers few alternatives. lol It is what we make of it. I chuckle to myself. I know damned well it could be so much worse. I breathe, exhale, and relax. Sip my coffee. Sip my tea. Think my thoughts.

2025 is nearly over. Good times, and hard times, we’ve seen some things, haven’t we? Wow. Another year over… another new year about to begin.

…the new year is a blank page…

I think for a bit about how easy it is to be down on each other – or ourselves – when things are going poorly, or in some moment of vexation or conflict. We may say some pretty terrible things to people we care for deeply, in some moment of anger or frustration. I’m not excusing that; bad behavior does not benefit from excuse-making. Better to correct it, once identified. We’re each human beings, being human, though, and it is true that hurt people often hurt people. We develope “coping skills” over a lifetime to deal with trauma and petty bullshit, and often don’t reevaluate those behaviors later in our lives when they are clearly no longer ideal (or possibly not even appropriate). Being kind, considerate, and gracious take practice. Saying “I’m sorry” takes practice. Being open and listening deeply take practice. Being an uplifting presence in our relationships instead of a chronically sarcastic buzzkill takes practice. For any one of us to become the human being we most want to be, there is a requirement that we do the work involved in changing who we may already have become at some point in the past. It is necessary to change. That all sounds really obvious… and I guess it mostly is, but…

…Sometimes when we’re stressed or feeling down about ourselves in some moment, we lose track of the real value we bring to our experience, and to the lives of those with whom we are “sharing the journey”. We overlook our value in our relationships. We have so much unrealized potential as human beings, each one of us, but when we are mired in harsh words, hurt feelings, emotional baggage, past trauma and present regrets, we wander around in a fog of hurt and sorrow feeling “stuck” and lacking options. It’s an illusion. We have value as individuals, and unique perspective and our own experience of life and the world.

If you’re having one of those moments when you can’t find meaning in your life, or don’t feel that your existence has value, or you are feeling overlooked, ignored, disregarded – whether for a moment or a lifetime – it is within your power to change that experience! Take time to appreciate you – who you are, where you’ve come from, how far you’ve come over time. Think about times you’ve made someone laugh, or lifted them up when they were blue – how often have you been there for someone? Reflect on the moments of joy and of delight, however small; they are yours to keep and to cherish. Spending more time on those than on the things you’re irked by is a good step forward. Reflect on the things you do well. Savor the details of some pleasant moment, however inconsequential. You are not defined by someone else’s anger, frustration, or expectations. You get to live your own life, and you are having your own experience. However disrespected you may feel by some other person, ideally you can always count on being respected by the person in the mirror. Treat yourself well, with consideration and respect. Give yourself a moment to be heard – by the person you, yourself, are. This isn’t groundbreaking new thinking, just some suggestions for lifting yourself out of a funk when you’re feeling low (because frankly sometimes people can be dicks, and it has nothing to do with whether you “deserved that” at all). Emotional lows are also part of the human experience (“deserved” or not). You are the surfer riding that wave – and you are also the water.

You know what you are not? You are not the sum of the negative opinions of other people. You are not defined by someone else’s anger, frustration, or disappointment. You’re also not the sum of the compliments you have received. Opinions are not the substance of reality. Who you are as a human being is defined by your actions, your choices, your behavior, and the quality of your relationships; and these are within your control. So… if you don’t like where you are in life, go somewhere else, or make changes (or both). Here we are, standing on the edge of an entire new year. This could be the beginning of something amazing! What will you do with your unrealized potential, and how will you choose your next steps? Where does your path lead? The menu in The Strange Diner is vast…you may have more options than you recognize in some moment of stress or sorrow.

I guess I’m just saying…don’t stand waste deep in the shit someone else flung at you telling yourself you have no choice but to stand there. You do have choices. You create meaning from what is otherwise meaningless – and this puts a lot of power to change your life into your own hands. You can defeat an emotional spiral threatening to suck you down into despair. You can walk away from conflict – or even heal the hurts that created it. You have more power than you know.

…And there’s a whole new year ahead…

It’s time to begin again. Where does your path lead? What will you do to become the person you most want to be, in 2026? Are you ready? The clock is ticking…

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Categories anger, anhedonia, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being, The Big 5, women, Words

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
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