Archives for posts with tag: what are you practicing?
« Older Entries
Newer Entries »

Enjoying the Journey

April 21, 2025 //
0

It won’t always be this way – whatever way it happens to be at the moment. I do my best to enjoy the journey, in spite of pain, in spite of bad weather, in spite of pitfalls, challenges, and the consequences of poor choices. I do my best to enjoy the journey when it is easy to enjoy it (which seems pretty obvious, but turns out it sometimes isn’t), and also when it is difficult. I’m not suggesting bullshit affirmations and inauthentic enthusiasm, it’s more a matter of “doing my best”, and staying true to the path I’ve chosen. Sometimes it’s hard.

Last night was one of those times. I was in so much pain. My neck was hurting, and my occipital neuralgia had flared up. My headache was worse than usual and the left side of my body was a mess of knots, and cramps, and discomfort. It was pretty awful – bad enough that my beloved Traveling Partner (who could do nothing to ease my suffering) could not bear to be in my company. That was its own sort of misery, and I finally just gave up and went to bed early. I didn’t sleep, not right away, but I was also in no shape to enjoy a new video game I’ve started, and too distracted by pain to read anything new. I got as comfortable as I could, prepared for sleep, and picked up a book so familiar to me it may as well be stories from my own life. lol Stale and boring? No. Comforting and easy. Eventually I slept, and when I woke, there was my Kindle, standing where it had been. It turned itself off at some point after I stopped turning digital pages. Convenient.

A strawberry blossom in my garden, a metaphor for change, and joy – and impermance.

This morning is a new day. I woke feeling refreshed. Headache as near to gone as it ever gets these days. The left side of my body feels substantially the same as the right side. My neck is “only” stiff, and I don’t fuck with it, hoping to enjoy this brief reprieve from discomfort as long as it may last. My occipital neuralgia has died away on its own – probably the greatest relief of yesterday’s pain that I could ask for, today. There’s just no arguing with nerve pain, and so far nothing I’ve been prescribed works well enough to justify overlooking the side-effects (which, in one case, was suicidal despair – I mean, seriously? Fuck that shit, I’d rather spend the rest of my life with my face feeling like it is on fire). This morning is a happy relief and I got to the office feeling incredibly purposeful and productive. I wasted no time “catching up” on an entire day’s work, and planning the remainder of the week, besides. Feels good. I feel capable, which is not always how I feel.

Change is. Sometimes the journey is difficult, sometimes it is easy – it rarely stays the way it is for very long. Storms come and go. There are sunny days and cloudy days. (Weather makes a pretty good metaphor for change.) I sip my coffee and reflect on the value I have found in practicing non-attachment, and learning to “be here, now”, more easily, more often. Quality of life varies with our circumstances, sure, but it also varies based on how we deal with our circumstances, how we care for ourselves, and whether we’re finding whatever joy there may be, even in the toughest of times. Not one word about any of this being “easy” or coming naturally to me (or anyone) as a human being. I just keep walking my path, doing my best, and greeting each sunrise as an entirely new day, full of promise and moments that may never be repeated. That’s a pretty good place to begin a day, I find.

I smile to myself remembering something that occured to me this morning; this anniversary coming up for my Traveling Partner and I is significant in a very special way (to me). This anniversary marks this relationship being the longest of my long-term relationships. Hell, it’s even longer than the years I lived with my family of origin. Wow. I hope it lasts many years more. “Forever”, maybe, whatever that means in a human lifetime. I often do feel as if we’ve “always” been together in some strange way. We seem so deeply connected. Even when we’re cross with each other, I’m not feeling inclined to “head for the door”, other than maybe to go take a walk and put my mind on other things until I cool off. Deep, enduring love seems a rare thing. I’m glad I have this to enjoy and experience. I’m glad my Traveling Partner is sharing a portion of his journey with me (and mine with him). I thought about how best to celebrate this special anniversary with him, as I drove to the office. I didn’t come up with anything besides sharing the day. I don’t want an expensive trinket or token of his affection; I am wrapped in his love every day. I can’t think of a single thing to make for him or give to him that would say more about my love that the life we share already says. I just want to be with him. I guess I should take that day off work, then, eh? lol

I spent the weekend in the garden. It was lovely time, well-spent. “Soul-nourishing” time. Healing time. Productive time. Time spent gazing at flowers and working in the soil. Time spent sipping coffee and thinking about what to plant where, next, and pulling weeds. I hope I can maintain the momentum through the summer months! Last year I fell short of my goals (like, a lot) because caring for my beloved took much more of my time and energy that I expected (having had no experience with caregiving, previously). I wouldn’t change that; he needed me, and I love him far too much to put my garden ahead of him in my priorities under such circumstances.

I sip my coffee grateful to enjoy it. Grateful to enjoy love. Grateful that I don’t hurt as much today as I did yesterday. Grateful to have this wee suburban home and my little garden, and a few sunny days to spend there. I smile at the blue morning sky beyond the window. The clock is ticking – but it seems to tick a bit more slowly when I am enjoying the time. I think about that for a moment, and then begin again.

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, joy, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, Spring, The Art of Being

Walking Your Own Path

April 18, 2025 //
0

I’m sipping my coffee and reflecting on my journey, and things generally. My sleep was restless and filled with peculiarly realistic dreams of places, people, and circumstances that were in no way actually real in my own life. It was a bit unsettling to wake as if from an altogether different life into the life I live. It’s not the first time I’ve had such dreams, and I doubt it will be the last.

I made the drive to work watching the night sky transform at daybreak. Venus was bright above the horizon, and the sky was smudged with orange and rusty hues. I caught glimpses of Mt Hood from a couple vantage points that don’t offer a convenient place to stop, and struggled a bit to avoid being distracted by the beauty. Safety first! I have places to be, and loved ones who would like to see me again when I return. That was a pleasant thought in the moment. Something about the morning kept reminding me of “home” – not my home, now, but some long gone time and place that I can’t return to. It only exists in my memory. A spring afternoon, the buzz of insects, a screened in porch, and the hum of a fan, Easter shoes that pinched. A summer morning, the heavy scent of southern blossoms, the thick humid air, the clink of ice cubes in cold glasses, and sweat that doesn’t dry. Only memories, now – even most of the people are…gone. I sighed to myself as I drove, letting the thoughts drift through my mind like clouds. Nothing to be concerned about, just the morning of a new day, and some thoughts to get me started. It’s funny – I often “do my best writing” while I’m driving, and can’t jot down the words. lol An interesting challenge is finding them again, later. I rarely do. I find other words, other thoughts.

Strange journey, life, isn’t it? We each walk our own path. We’re each having our own experience. We persist in sharing our advice with other travelers as if they could ever truly make use of what we have learned ourselves – maybe, sometimes, in rare instances we really can learn from the experiences of others. I often wonder how true that really is. We are our own cartographers, and these “maps” we make aren’t very helpful to anyone else, generally. The moments and the journeys are uniquely our own. What do you actually get from reading these words? When I point out that we become what we practice, do you understand what I’m pointing out to you? How it applies to your own practices? The ways it could be useful to change your experience? How easily leaving dishes in the sink “now and then” becomes dishes in the sink more often? How difficult it can be to adopt a new better habit without committed practice? How easily anger becomes a character trait instead of a moment of emotion, when we yield to our anger and relish “venting” our frustration instead of steadily practicing some other approach? When I suggest practicing self-care, do you consider it and take action? When I observe that my chronic device use quickly became hard-to-resist doomscrolling and that I had to change my practices to preserve my emotional health, did you reflect on your own, and the effect it has had on you? You have a moment to make a change, to become the person you most want to be. What will you do with it?

I’m not telling you how to live – I’m just wondering what you get from my observations over time, or if it is merely an entertaining distraction?

We’re each walking our own path. Each tending our own garden. (These are metaphors.)

I’m just one human being, walking my own hard mile, facing my own trauma, and even the consequences of my own actions and choices. I’m grateful (and fortunate) to be where I am now, but there are no promises I’ll “always” have it like this – I’ve lived through far far worse. We are mortal creatures. We’re fortunate any time we can share the journey. I sip my coffee and think about love. Our choices in life only get us so far; some of it is also pure luck and the timing of circumstances. Each moment is precious – and unrepeatable. I reflect on Ichi-go ichi-e, and vita contemplativa – useful concepts. I practice non-attachment, and seek a sense of contentment and sufficiency. Along the way, I’ve found (often but not always) real actual no bullshit happiness. This surprises me, and I embrace the moments as I find them. Chasing happiness never got me there. Funny how that works.

Each moment as temporary as a flower.

My coffee is almost gone. The waning moon is faint in the cerulean blue of the morning sky. I’m okay right now – for all the values of okay – and I’m grateful. Nice moment. I breathe, exhale, and relax, and think about weekend gardening to come. There are strawberries to water, and arugula to plant. There are radish seedlings to thin, and a clematis vine to plant in a pot. There are new moments to live, and new thoughts to think. I smile to myself, grateful to have the chance to share words with you over my coffee, however you choose to use them. I wonder for a moment where your path may lead? Then, I get ready to begin again.

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, joy, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Spring, The Art of Being, weight loss secrets, Words

Riding the Wave

April 15, 2025 //
0

I had a moment yesterday. Feelings of loneliness and despair began to well up seemingly out of “nowhere”. It wasn’t “nowhere”, of course, these are troubling, baffling times for ethical compassionate people who want (and work) to see good in the world. I took a moment to shed some private tears and regain my balance, to self-soothe, and step back from thoughts of things I can’t influence directly or change in any practical immediate way.

“Breathe, exhale, relax.” I reminded myself. It helped and the evening moved on.

There’s still blue sky overhead.

If you’re hurting and struggling with the strange terrible times we’re in, you’re not alone, I promise you. Be kind. Be considerate. Be your best self in spite of seeming to be surrounded by a world of monsters. Look with scorn on terrible people, but don’t let them transform you. Don’t become the thing you find detestable. Don’t let the bad acts and cruelty of the world make you cruel, yourself. Resist the poor choices your own anger and fear nudge you towards and stand firm on your resolve and your convictions. Be the person you most want to be, not whatever facsimile of humanity it may seem that you are expected or encouraged to become by circumstances, systems, or corrupt individuals. Be honest. Be real. Speak truth to power. Make the wisest choices you can for the greatest good within your family, tribe, and community. Be the change you wish to see in the world. It’s not a platitude if you make it real in your own experience.

Remember that the goblin king has no power over you. He is a farce. He is a fiction. Make your own choices. Use your own words. Be the main character in your story, instead of an NPC in the game of life.

It’s a new day. A new beginning.

This morning I watch the sunrise. I listen to birds singing cheerily along the trail. No tears. I am okay right now. Sometimes shit gets hard because I actually do care, and all by itself that can be a hell of a burden to bear. It’s an interesting path I’ve chosen in life, and it isn’t paved, and I don’t have a map. Sometimes the going is easy, sometimes it is difficult. Regardless, it is a worthy journey of being and becoming, and I walk on.

I sigh quietly as I walk. Trolls and monsters and lines on maps – it’s a strange and sometimes scary world, but the journey is the destination and it isn’t really “about” any of that. Those are worldly distractions. I remind myself to be present, here, now. To be kind. To be the woman I most want to be. To make wise choices. To listen well and deeply, and to love with my whole heart.

I listen to my footsteps on the trail. The clock is ticking. It’s time to begin again.

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

Pain and Perspective

April 14, 2025 //
0

I woke too early. Some noise woke me ahead of my alarm. I tried to go back to sleep, but was unsuccessful. I started to sit up, and my body protested vigorously, by way of the pain I was in. Honestly, it’s hard to be annoyed by it; it’s just sore muscles from working in the garden over the weekend, and walking a little further, a little faster, on my morning hikes. Any muscle to do with legs, from my calves to my navel, whether walking, stooping, standing, lifting, reaching, bending… it all hurts now. lol Right at this moment, now, it’s my calves that ache most. First thing this morning, it was my thighs and my butt.

Meant for the front flower beds, these strawberries became an opportunity for change.

I gave myself quite a workout over the course of the weekend. Worth it. The garden is cared for, and I’ve a new space developing on the far side of the house – my “west side garden”. For now that’s just a raised strawberry bed, and a couple pots prepared for planting that don’t yet have anything in them.

My “west side garden”, a narrow space mostly left unused, but gets good afternoon sun. Where will this path lead?

When we moved in, that west side space between our house and the fence had a well-established strawberry bed in it – it got seriously trampled (destroyed) by the neighbors rebuilding the fence (badly). It’s not like I was using that space much, myself, but it’s there, and it’s mine, and I could be using it… so… I am. I said something offhand to my Traveling Partner about maybe making a pleasant small meditation garden. He laughed and pointed out the air conditioner. It’s also adjacent to the neighbor’s patio (and his weight bench, and the clanging of his free weights hitting the rack, when he’s using them). Yeah, so… okay. Maybe not quite quiet and peaceful enough for meditation. lol

I sip my coffee and think about potted shrubs and other fruiting plants that might do well with only the afternoon sun to rely on. Maybe some currants in a big pot, placed to partially obscure the sight of the AC? I’ve definitely decided to get another of those small raised beds – quite convenient, and there’s room for another. Not today, though. I am content to think the thoughts and dream and plan and wonder. There’s no hurry, really. There’s just this moment and these thoughts. A woman, a garden, a ticking clock, and “now” – no reason at all to hurry, when careful consideration and a bit of planning will be worth so much. There’s more to tending the garden than the manual labor. lol

…G’damn I am so sore though! lol I’m definitely not 21 any more…

There is blue sky beyond the office window this morning. Lovely day. There is work to do, and later, an appointment. All very routine and not especially “interesting”, just details of a life lived. I sigh to myself and realize it is time to begin again.

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

A Different Perspective on a Familiar Path

April 12, 2025 //
0

I went to the usual trailhead of my favorite weekend morning hike. Pretty morning, but… the trailhead is busier than usual. A parked vehicle (vacant but with hazard lights left on), an especially disreputable looking old van (windows covered by foil), and an old RV with signs of being someone’s long-term dwelling, are in the parking lot. My skin crawls, and I experience a sense of “stranger danger”. I could be overreacting, but by the time I could be certain that I am or am not, it could easily be too late, eh? I move on, and go to the western trailhead of the park, on the far side, nearer to my usual “halfway point”. I’ll walk the trail in a different direction, approaching the views from the other side, and I’ll take a route that doesn’t approach the other trailhead at all (skirting the marsh instead of crossing it).

A calm sentinel.

It’s a lovely morning, and I’ve no regrets over the change of direction. I walk the trail contentedly. I see geese, and nutria, robins and squirrels. I walk along the river for a while. I look across a different bit of meadow, at a different stand of trees on the other side.

A change of perspective.

The morning is chilly but not cold, and I am warm from walking. I feel relaxed and rested, and my (quite minor) seasonal allergies are not vexing me; I remembered to add allergy meds to my morning medication. I feel comfortable in my skin and merry as I walk. I am supported by my cane (it’s actually a very strong, lightweight Leki trekking pole with some shock absorbtion), and my ankle does not yet ache from the walking, nor do my feet hurt. I would be walking in spite of those things, but it’s nice not having to fight that pain, this morning.

I think about the day ahead, but my thoughts are scattered, fractured by distractions: birds, flowers, movement in the underbrush. I walk on, enjoying the scents of Spring. I try, briefly, to recall whether I have errands to run, but I fail, and for the moment I don’t actually care. I’m wrapped in this moment, now, and it’s quite enough.

I walk, thinking about my beloved Traveling Partner, sleeping at home. He’ll likely be quite sore today after physical therapy yesterday. I resolve to keep myself occupied until he alerts me that he’s up and about for the day, to do what little I can to ensure he gets the rest he also needs. I smile. My heart is filled with love and my thoughts with fond memories. He is so much part of my life and experience after 15 years together. May 1st is our anniversary, but “that moment” that he truly became part of my life and my future was actually on his birthday, in December, at the end of 2009. By February we were the best of friends, by June he had moved in with me. Even then, I don’t think either of us anticipated marriage being part of our journey (less than a year later), we were both pretty sour on the notion from our past experiences. Still, here we are. Feels almost as if we’ve “always” been together. It’s easy to forget what a short time it has been. I grin to myself as I walk. He could not be more dear to me, nor further entangled in my heart. I am wrapped in his love every moment of every day. I sigh happily, and keep walking.

An enormous flock of Canada geese pass overhead. I think about my Granny, and wish that she could have met my Traveling Partner. I think she would have liked him. I know my Dad would have. I chuckle over the ways of men, and wonder what it might have been like had my Dad and my partner had a chance to enjoy each other’s company? I walk on wondering when I stopped being angry at my father? When had I truly forgiven him? It’s clear that I have… How strange. I once thought I never could.

Time passes, and the passage of time heals a lot of hurts, given a chance. Forgiveness isn’t for those who have hurt or wronged us, my Traveling Partner was right about that; forgiveness benefits most the one who forgives. Forgiveness is a letting go of the terrible weight of lasting pain and lingering rage. Forgiveness is another way to begin again.

My footsteps on the path are regular and even, steady like the tick of a clock. The clock is ticking. I walk on, with new perspective, toward the next curve on the path, the next opportunity to begin again. It’s time. It’s always time. I’m okay with that.

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Allegories, anger, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being
« Older Entries
Newer Entries »