Archives for posts with tag: where does this path lead?

Beautiful sunrise. Good morning to get a walk in. I’ve had the trail to myself, and watched the sunrise as I walked. Lovely.

Every day, every journey, begins somewhere.

The weather forecast indicates there is an extreme heat warning for the latter portion of the week, possibly record-breaking. I checked with my Traveling Partner about whether there were steps we might need to take to stay comfortable and ensure our AC functions properly. I’ll make a point to stock additional beverages and cold foods, so we won’t be required to cook using the oven or stovetop for long periods of time. I’ll drink more water.

…”Drink more water” is excellent hot weather advice, but there’s something quite limited about even the very best to bits of advice; it only works when actually taken. There are verbs involved. If we receive great advice but choose to disregard it, instead of applying it, our failures and misadventures thereby are of our own making. No one to blame but the person in the mirror. We for sure can’t claim we didn’t have guidance or that the advice was ineffective. lol

Why do people get great advice and then choose not to follow it? I don’t have an answer, I’m just wondering. I mean, actually, I can come up with several possible answers, but I don’t at all know which are likely to be most correct. Maybe we don’t trust the advice to be accurate? Maybe we don’t find the source to be credible? Maybe we think we’re a special case and the norms don’t apply to us? Maybe… maybe mostly… we’re just not really listening in the first place? That seems likely… people are pretty crappy at listening to someone else talking.

… Maybe sometimes there’s too much new information to process…

Are you listening to the good advice you’re given? Do you use it?

My neck aches ferociously this morning. I think I “slept on it wrong”. Ouch. The pain colors my experience unpleasantly. When the time comes, I take my morning medication, grateful to be able to add prescription pain relief, grateful to have it available, hopeful that it will bring some relief. I stopped on the trail several times trying to “work the kinks out” by practicing the release and self-massage techniques my chiropractor taught me. These are often quite helpful, this morning they are less so. I still make the effort. The headache that rises from the pain in my neck spreads like flames across the left side of my face. Occipital neuralgia. Fuuuuuuck. “Just kill me now”, I snarl quietly to myself, though I don’t mean it literally. I just hurt. I stretch. I breathe. I keep walking. This too will pass.

I reach my halfway point and keep walking, lost in my thoughts and preoccupied by my pain. This trail is a loop. Though I often walk out and back, a shorter distance, the full distance of the loop isn’t unreasonably far. I laugh at myself; looks like I’m going the distance this morning. I have time. Anyway, I’d be shit to be around this morning, and my Traveling Partner was already up when I left. No reason to rush back with my bitchy cross mood intact. I sigh as I walk.

… I should probably begin again. That’s pretty good advice…

Moving is hard. It’s a ton of work compounded by fatigue and distractions, and chaos reliably rides shotgun (sometimes even if the move is executed “military style”). We’re getting it done, but it’s a lot of work, and coordination of effort, and management of many small logistical details. My injured Traveling Partner helpfully coordinates things between the Anxious Adventurer and me, as we each handle various tasks, leaving us both free to focus on what we’re doing, checking in with him as we complete one task and move on to the next.

Today the rented truck gets returned and we’re “done” – for some values of done. There’s still quite a lot to do, but last night the Anxious Adventurer slept in his room, and even found the energy to bake cookies (they were delicious) in the evening.

… I’m so fucking tired…

I woke at my usual time, got myself together, and headed to the local trail I like most. Later it’ll be grocery shopping and laundry and trying to maintain the pace on the ordinary tasks that keep the household running, on top of continuing to handle various moving in tasks still needing attention.

… Did I mention I’m tired? I’m also in pain.

I remind myself that a new normal with less chaos and less work (well, possibly the same amount effort, but distributed across more human capacity) is near at hand. My tinnitus whines, chimes, and buzzes in my ears. My back hurts. My head aches. I look past all that as I walk the trail. This is my path. It’s not always easy. I’ve survived a lot worse. I just keep walking. Persistence pays off. Incremental change over time is reliable.

…We become what we practice…

I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s a pleasant morning, gray and overcast, mild and somewhat humid. I keep walking.

My Traveling Partner is already up, and I wonder if I woke him as I left the house? I let that thought go, too. I walk on. I prepare a mental grocery list, and remind myself to go over some basic expectations about groceries, shared (and limited) space, and avoiding waste or duplication. We three each have somewhat different tastes, and ideally that becomes exciting variety and chances to try new things. All of us cook (although for now my Traveling Partner can’t easily do anything much cooking-wise), but pantry and cupboard space is very limited.

… It’s an exciting time. I focus on the excitement instead of the chaos as I walk…

I stop for a picture and a quiet moment.

…So much yet to do, and the weekend feels so short…

Tomorrow morning is a new work day. Weird. Work, in the abstract, feels so removed from my experience right now. How strange. I pause at my halfway point, and sit, smelling the blooming blackberries and wildflowers. The air is very still and calm. It smells like it may rain again. I sigh quietly and watch a feral cat slink past giving me a sideways glance before disappearing in the underbrush. I find myself wondering when I will have the cognitive bandwidth (and the time) to explore the possibilities of the new pastels.  Realistically, it may be a while, and the possibility exists as a temptation dangling ahead of me awaiting some future moment…if I get enough done.

I sigh. Shit’s not getting done while I sit here. Fuck. I stand and stretch stiff joints, and dust off my pants, before heading back to the car to get started on the day. It’s already time to begin again.

Stress complicates things. Letting it go, when I can, makes sense for a lot of reasons. Ruminating about past events that can’t be changed isn’t very helpful. Worrying about future events that have not occurred is also not helpful. Learning from past mistakes and being prepared for future events or decisions are both excellent strategies, though… Finding balance between the extremes is a worthwhile endeavor.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I purposefully let go of my stress. I make a point of not exploring deeply what may be driving it. Honestly, it’s just too easy to make it much worse by giving my thoughts over to it, so instead I focus on here, now, this moment – a very useful practice.

… And anyway, the things that cause human primates stress are pretty commonplace, aren’t they?

I breathe the scents of summer as I sit at the halfway point of this morning’s walk. The air smells like rain and the sky overhead is obscured by dense clouds, dark and stormy gray to the north and east, and a smooth homogeneous wash of paler gray to the south. The sky was a clear mild blue across the western horizon at daybreak, but now it’s a soft neutral gray, too. I listen to birdsong and the sound of traffic on the nearby highway.

…My mind wanders to my to-do list, and my anxiety surges. I’m reminded that my Traveling Partner’s health challenges are worrisome, and I struggle to calm myself, briefly. Life has some difficult moments. I feel fortunate to share many of those with my Traveling Partner. I breathe, exhale, and relax, again. I allow myself to acknowledge the legitimate stress that results from my partner’s injury last fall, and the challenges of getting him a skilled diagnosis and the care he needs. (He’s right; our system is badly broken and it shouldn’t be this hard.) Another breath, another attempt to let the stress go. It’s not particularly helpful to get wound up and angry, or to become mired in frustration, feeling beat down or hopeless. Perspective can be hard to achieve. I keep at it. Practicing.

…Breathe, exhale, relax…

Sitting here, the tallest meadow grasses obscure me from the trail. I watch the grass sway in the gentle breeze. I enjoy the solitude. My tinnitus is loud in my ears. It vexes me, but I get some sense of relief by turning my attention elsewhere, listening to the sounds around me: distant traffic, chirps and birdsong of the early birds, the sound of rustling leaves. Quiet sounds, but audible when I turn my attention to those.

… Breathe, exhale, relax…

My background stress day-to-day has reached a point where my morning walks fuel just about enough resilience to carry me through the day, but rarely further. Nights are sometimes difficult, restless, wakeful, and full of troubling dreams. This time I take for myself is now pretty necessary, just due to circumstances, instead of being a pleasant luxury. My Traveling Partner sees it too, and frequently encourages me to take care of myself as a priority. The challenge is that the whole messy business has a certain “failure is not an option” feel to it that is a major cause of my stress. Yeah… That’s a thing. I sigh out loud, missing my Dear Friend acutely; I would benefit so much from talking all this over with her!

… Breathe, exhale, relax…

Just moments in a lifetime. This too will pass. Change is.

I brush the bits of leaves from where they’ve clung to my jeans, and stand and stretch. There’s a list of things to do and time is short. I turn to the trail, to head back to the car. It’s already time to begin again.

Before I can ever answer the question “how do I get there?”, I guess it’s necessary to have some understanding of where it is I am wanting to go…

Beginning again starts… somewhere.

Yesterday was a very nice day, marred only slightly by a too-common moment of discord that seems, now, both completely unnecessary and also entirely human. I breathe, exhale, and let that go; there is no need to let it define the day.

I was on the trail this morning shortly after daybreak. I had the trail to myself. I enjoy the quiet time spent with my own thoughts. These morning walks and meditative interludes along a quiet trail are keeping me sane. Mostly. I would do well to do more, better, with regard to my self-care, and I am aware of it. I sigh and file that thought under “I’m doing the best I can” and promise myself to give it more thought another time.

Today I’ll begin the work of moving things around in the house to accommodate my Traveling Partner’s son for some little while. I’m simultaneously eager to be helpful with getting him a good start in the community here, and also saddened to be giving up my wee library (and meditation space) and having to compress my art studio to become my “everything space”. It’s the only way to comfortably make room for a third adult human being. I have no objection to making the necessary changes… I just worry a bit that they won’t be as temporary as discussed going into it, and I’m going to have to be diligent about my self-care and making a point to get the time I need away from people. It’s probably going to be a bit more difficult in some ways, but probably easier in others.

… There’s definitely a bunch of manual labor involved in these changes, and I will need to manage my time and energy with care…

I sit with my thoughts awhile, at the halfway point of my walk. I’ve got a few things on my mind and most of those center on how I can most successfully reduce my day-to-day stress, and also how to develop more resistance to being provoked into anger or anxiety. I’m not as resilient as I am able to be when I live alone, and there are a great many triggers in my environment. Adding another person to my living situation doesn’t make things easier. Once my PTSD flares up, it can be very difficult to regain perspective and emotional balance. I’d very much like to improve that situation and enjoy more lasting calm and contentment, and realistically can’t count on anyone else to “make that easy”. The verbs and practices are mine. My results vary.

… Humans are going to be human…

… We’re each having our own experience…

I breathe, exhale, and relax, aware for a moment that there are no notifications buzzing my arm; I’m wearing a watch, instead of a connected wearable device tracking my every action and pinging me with reminders. It’s quite nice. I even remembered to take my morning medication without any of that. I smile when I recall that my Traveling Partner picked this watch with me in mind. I like it very much.

Another reminder that I am loved.

The sun is well up in the morning sky. Looks like another hot summer day ahead. My step son messages me that he’s on the way to pick up the U-haul truck for his move. Events are in motion. Change is. There’s much to do. It’s already time to begin again…

I breathe, exhale, and relax, and prepare to head back up the trail.

I’m sipping coffee and taking a moment after my morning walk. I’ll head to work, next, but this quiet interlude is mine. I’m sitting quietly, looking out into the view beyond and contemplating how I might capture this view in acrylic, in watercolor, in oil, or in a wholly new medium for me – in pastels.

Light and shadow, and an ordinary view.

I am content to sit here with my thoughts, even for hours. This is a pleasant moment.

I’ve tidied up my studio such that I can actually make use of it. Along the way I found an old cigar box with an unexpected treasure within – two small sets of pastels, an assortment of neon colors and an assortment of iridescent colors, looking very much unused since whenever they were purchased. I don’t recall buying them. The shoebox itself is one that one of my parents had used to send me something… sometime around 1995? Older? Old, for sure.

A fun surprise.

I continue to feel inspired by the thought of exploring a new medium, artistically. I picked up a selection of good quality pastels at the local art store, and some appropriate paper, and ordered some woodless colored pencils and pastel pencils. A small price to pay for the joy and growth yet to come.

Colors. Joy in a box.

For a moment, I feel impatient to begin, then chuckle at my human foolishness, because I have already begun! This moment, right here, now, is part of the experience. I smile and breathe it in. Inspiration. Joy. Enthusiasm. Eagerness. Delight. Wonder. It’s quite delicious and I am grateful to enjoy this moment.

I take time to really savor this pleasant moment, and to really “fill my cup” with this quiet joy.

The sun continues to rise. The clock continues to tick. It’s already time to begin again. I’m ready.