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

As I left the house this morning, I spotted the crescent moon rising, almost appearing to chase Venus up the night sky.  I took a picture of it when I got to the trailhead, from the wide open vantage point at the edge of the vineyard on the road in.

Crescent moon rising, Venus and Regulus close by.

I was surprised to get a clear image with my cellphone camera, and even more surprised to see a second star in the image when I zoomed in. “What is that?”, I wondered. I looked it up on Space.com and learned that it is a somewhat unusual sighting, and that the second star is Regulus. I was delighted to get a picture of it.

The morning is quite chilly, and the dawn sky is clear. My footsteps seem loud as I walk past deserted preparations for some event set up at the edge of the trail, filling the area where I usually park. White tents and rows of folding chairs and tables are set out, ready. I walk on by; it’s not for me. I think about that as I walk. The idea that relatively few things in life or the world, generally, are “for me” or about me at all fills my thoughts. It’s a big world, and I am one human being.

I get to my halfway point, still contemplating the many sights I will never see with my own eyes. Events I’ll never attend – or even be invited to. The people I will never meet are a vast multitude larger by far than the number of people I have met. There are books that I’ll never read, having never known they exist, and others I may choose not to read because they aren’t “for me” in some recognizable way. There are groups I am excluded from, and accolades I do not qualify for. There are places I will never visit – it’s a big world, and time is finite. Hell, I’m not even “allowed” to visit some places, for one reason or another. I’m not vexed by any of this. Our mortal time is too limited to do and see everything, anyway.

These are not musings to do with unfairness, inequity, or unjustly placing restrictions on accessibility of places, events, or experiences that should otherwise be open to a particular demographic being out-grouped by shitheads for some trumped up bullshit justification. These are simply thoughts about limitations in life, and those do exist. Some people (maybe most) won’t wake early enough to see this morning’s crescent moon. They weren’t excluded – though they did miss seeing it. There’s a distinction to make there.

Daybreak comes. The sunrise begins. The sky lightens. A new day dawns. We see what we turn our attention to, but we still have to look, and observe, and bring awareness to the moment. We make choices. We are easily distracted. The more of our precious limited mortal lifetime we spend staring at our phones, tablets, and screens, the less able we may be to sit quietly and watch the sun rise.

I sit awhile longer with my thoughts on a chilly autumn morning, watching the crescent moon climb the dawn horizon, as though seeking to make room for the sun. Soon, it will be time to begin again.

I’m sipping water, and getting my boots on, preparing for the morning hike. It’s a gray cloudy morning, cooler than originally forecasted. I’m okay with that, but as I dig through my gear bin in the back of the car for my fleece, I wonder if I should have worn a sweater?

A new day, full of potential.

I step down the trail contentedly. Later this morning I’ll meet with a former colleague (who is also a friend) to discuss a job offer. I’m grateful for the opportunity, and feel fortunate that it is coming so soon…but, in practical terms, it’s not 100% of everything I was hoping for. It’s not a bad offer. It’s not in any way unreasonable. It is in every way an excellent offer and one that should meet all my practical needs and even get me ahead a bit, although perhaps more slowly than I’d ideally like. The salary is a small step back (very small). Here’s the thing though; it’s still quite outstanding. I’m not even bitching, and I expect to accept… I’m just saying it’s an imperfect world and circumstances don’t always go along with our plans, dreams, or expectations. That’s just real.

I’m grateful for the practical wisdom of my Traveling Partner. I likely wouldn’t be where I am without having had the benefit of his insights, wise counsel, and thoughtful perspective. I’ll head to this meeting later able to act from a position of strength. Feels good.

… Funny thing about this perception of “taking a small step back” – in some ways it is an illusion. This illusion is built on the foundation of my expectations and assumptions (about the world, about my worth, about the economy, about the job market, about “have to” vs “want to”…) and mostly isn’t at all relevant to my success in life or my decision making process, until I make it relevant by clinging to those (potentially wildly unrealistic) expectations and assumptions.  Quite a few folks leaving college with their freshly printed degrees fall into this trap.

… There are no shortcuts, not really, and you will have to do the work required, yourself. Your results may vary…

I get to the halfway point on my hike still thinking about jobs, the value of a human life, and the obstacles we place in our own way, time and again, in the form of expectations or assumptions. I remember, when I was first beginning to think seriously about my adult future and what that might look like, I seriously expected to build a career somewhere that would begin when I left high school and end when I eventually retired, well-prepared for leisure living until the eventual end of my life. I didn’t actually see many examples of that scenario playing out in my life among the adults around me, it was merely what I expected, not really knowing how much the world was already changing. TV shows I watched at the time definitely pictured a very different world than I would find when I reached adulthood. lol

I have had friends and associates who invested a lot of time and emotional energy into bitching bitterly about the world not being what they felt was promised (been there myself), but there aren’t any guarantees offered. No assurances regarding what the future may hold, at least none with legitimate practical value. We experience the journey we create through our choices, and framed by our perspective on things. We don’t know what we don’t know. We walk our own path, paved with our own choices. (And let’s not overlook that actual monsters in our midst whose laser focus on personal gain to the clear predictable detriment to those around them do also exist.) There’s an enormous amount of luck involved, and it’s hard to argue otherwise. Our results vary, as do our circumstances. Messy. It’s probably a poor choice to lock oneself into one very specific unique potential experience and snarl at the world that nothing else will do. That’s a very limiting approach to take. There are other options.

Success is not a given. The future is not written, and most of us are just making things up as we go. That’s okay; the journey is the destination, and the success of it is determined by the quality of the lived experience in a wholly subjective way. I can choose whether to accept or decline a job offer. I am the one who will fill the role and have the experience; I define the success. For me, the big wins are to live well, choose wisely, and enjoy the journey.

I breathe, exhale, and relax, watching the sky continue to lighten as dawn becomes a new day. I got started early, and there’s no hurry. I sit thoughtfully in this quiet summer meadow, reminding myself to make notes about various benefits and such other details as will matter, beyond salary. The details matter.

A little brown bird stops on an oak branch very near me and chirps loudly before singing a little scrap of her song. I am pulled back to this “now” moment right here, suddenly aware that I may as well be behind a fucking desk already; I’m not fully “present”, here, now. I laugh and the little bird looks at me quizzically. I take a deep breath and exhale slowly. I pay attention to the softness of the morning air, and the scents of summer. A doe with two fawns, already losing their spots, ambles by unconcerned about me, here on this log. Overhead a layer of low dense gray clouds slowly drifts westward. The air smells like it might rain.

I get to my feet, and brush bits of bark and grass from my jeans. It’s time to walk on, to embrace a new experience filled with new potential. The map is not the world. The plan is not the experience. The brochure is not a guarantee, and the advertising is not the truth. Hmph. It’s easy to say what an experience is not. In more positive terms what is it, though? I chuckle to myself as I pick up my cane and look down the trail. What is it? It’s time to begin again.

I woke ridiculously early this morning. I could hear my Traveling Partner coughing in another room. “Rough,” I thought, as I sat up, “sounds like he’s having trouble breathing.” As I reached for my phone to turn off my sunrise alarm and turn on a dim light, I realized I was pretty stuffy, myself. Allergies? Probably. Or not. Doesn’t matter, if it isn’t going to kill me, I guess. I notice that my head is pounding, too. Nasty headache to begin the day with. Great.

I sigh and stretch, and start getting ready for a new day. I figure I’ll just go get an early walk in, before work, although it’s not yet 03:30, and this changes which trails are available – or safe to walk. I think it over as I dress. My beloved seems a little surprised that I’m going to just go ahead and go, so early, but there’s another heat warning in effect, and it’ll be uncomfortably warm relatively early in the day, so perhaps it is just an opportunity? A lifetime of sleep challenges and insomnia have prepared me well to make use of strange hours. lol A hug, a kiss, and I’m headed out the door to walk in the darkness.

I walked the marsh trail with my headlamp in my hand, pointed down low to illuminate only the ground, and I watched Venus chase Jupiter up the dark backdrop of the starry pre-dawn sky. The morning was ever so still and quiet, and even the traffic was muted. I heard the crunch of my steps on gravel and over dried leaves. The air was still and smelled faintly of mushrooms and summer nights. I definitely had the trail to myself! Sounds in the underbrush as I strode through a grassy stretch covered with sparse old oaks gave me a moment of doubt about my decision-making, but it was only a family of racoons scrambling about, playing and foraging. They took off in other direction when my light reached them.

We spend a lot of our lives “walking in the dark” – life is a journey without a map, and we don’t see clearly where the path may lead. I think about that as I walk. I feel fortunate that this stretch of the journey is a familiar, there’s comfort in that. I stretch as I walk, hoping to ease stiff muscles and joints, and maybe this headache, too. It doesn’t help much, but it feels good to move. As I walk, I think about the tools in my toolkit, metaphorically speaking, and how best to organize my time and manage limited resources in this new here-and-now filled with uncertainty. Isn’t life always a little uncertain? I breathe, exhale, and relax. Could be worse – so much worse. This is only a beginning. Yet another. I wonder where the next opportunity may take me?

…I laugh out loud in the darkness when I catch myself thinking “what do I even want to be when I grow-up?”, realizing I am a long way down life’s path to feel that way, and yet it is still a question I often ask myself…

I get back to the car. I drive to the office that will soon no longer figure into my days at all, most likely. I prepare the budget for this pay period, aware that “things have changed” and that I need to consider new concerns, new details, new limitations – at least for now. Sometimes it’s a little scary. Sometimes it feels rather mundane and ordinary. My emotions are still shifting and I’m still “processing this”. Fuck I will so miss this particular job… on the other hand… it’s a job. There are others. I sigh as I hit “send” on the email to my Traveling Partner sharing my thoughts on the budget and seeking his. I’m grateful this is a shared journey.

I had planned to go camping next week, feeling very secure in my position in life and the world when the plans were made. I cancelled that to make room for uncertainty – and to map a new path. There’s quite a lot to do. I smile to myself; I may even spend time helping my Traveling Partner in the shop – or paint. Change is. Were this 5 years further down the road, I could perhaps simply file for my social security retirement, and breathe a little easier while I look for work, but that time is not now. Doing so now would be a terrible tactical move for the future. I sigh again and shake off the temptation toward wishful thinking. It’s a good time for taking a practical (and where feasible, wise) approach to “right now” – with a loving eye on the future, too.

…Aren’t we all sort of “walking in the dark”, much of the time? I sip my icy cold office coffee and think my thoughts awhile longer. The sun is rising now, and it’s time to begin again.

I’m sipping my coffee and beginning a new day. I got a good night’s rest, which I definitely needed, and I woke in a better mood than I was in yesterday. I’m grateful for the opportunity to reset and begin anew. The sunrise as I drove in was lovely, and the song in my head was “so loud” I finally had to put it on and just listen to it. The morning feels “infused with joy”, which is a much nicer start to the day than what yesterday had offered.

Perspective matters.

I stretch and sigh, breathe, exhale, and relax. A new day, eh? I wonder what I will do with it? Will I deliver on my commitment to myself to do just a little better at being the woman I most want to be than I did yesterday? Seems a worthy goal.

…It’s easier to make excuses than it is to practice being the person I most want to be…

The coffee is good this morning. I feel pretty well-rested and comfortable in my skin. I have a vague sense that there’s something I am supposed to do, or some errand I agreed to run, later today – but I can’t recall what it was, and I’m not certain it isn’t just some lingering artifact of various conversations about “we could do this or we could do that”. I remind myself to check with my Traveling Partner about whether he needs me to go somewhere or do something for him later today, then let the nagging sensation go in favor of focusing on this moment, now.

…He’s not even 37 miles away, but it may as well be an infinite distance viewed through the lens of how much I miss my Traveling Partner when I’m in the office. lol I’m looking forward to working from home tomorrow, leading into the weekend. I’ve got some camping preparations to make, gear to pack – Sunday I’ll head into the trees for a couple days of downtime along the Clackamas River. I’m looking forward to it. I know I’ll miss my partner even more, but I also know he’ll only ever be a short drive away, and within reach via text message, which is comforting. This downtime is important self-care, and I’m a better person generally when I get the solitary time I need. It’s a new spot for me, too – very exciting. Lots of new trails to wander, exploring the sights and my thoughts as I walk.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I enjoy planning my upcoming camping trips, but it hardly counts as “being in the moment”. lol I pull myself back to now, because it’s already time to begin again.

Seems to be very effective so far… probably doesn’t hurt that the path is mine, and that I choose it myself.

What we choose to consume matters. Fact is, all our choices matter to one degree or another. The results we get from any one choice over any other are reliably different. This is true of the food we eat, the books and periodicals we read, the services we use, the consumer goods we purchase, the platforms we subscribe to, the movies and videos we watch, and the politicians we elect. The tl;dr is that our choices matter, in our own life and in the world.

Businesses succeed or fail on their choices – and on ours as customers and consumers.

Societies rise, develop and fall based on the choices of chosen leaders enacting chosen policies.

We thrive or struggle based on our individual choices, and the choices of those around us.

It’s everything. From the choice of the food we put into our mouths (which could nurture or poison us), to the choice of who is best to lead us, every choice matters, every day, all the time. Are you up to the challenge? Are you ready to make willful, informed, eyes-open choices and also to accept responsibility for the choices you have made?

Are you even making actual choices or are you tumbling randomly through life with your choices being dictated by the opinions of others, or based on the constant media bombardment of advertising and “infotainment”? Are you even thinking your own thoughts, or has your mind been taken over by ideological bullet points, loyalty to party platforms, and AI slop?

…Who even are you?

Dawn of a new day.

As I left town heading for a favorite trail, I saw the beginnings of a beautiful colorful sunrise. I knew I had “missed my moment”. My timing would give me brief views of spectacular color, but no opportunity to do more than watch it as I drove. I faced a lived moment of natural splendor that could be appreciated and enjoyed, but not preserved. That’s okay. Hell, that is the truth of most moments. I don’t fight it. I drive on drinking in the scenery and watching the sunrise evolve from the magenta and luminous pinks to bold bright orange, then fading to hues of peach, salmon, and mauve. Gorgeous. Words don’t capture the moment.

I’m driving. Progress. The finger I had surgery on is still bandaged, but I’m back to my usual pain management, and driving, which feels good. My Traveling Partner suggests I take it easy today. I embrace that suggestion enthusiastically; I’m not quite ready to do housework, with one hand still impaired. He suggested maybe I entertain myself with a drive to the coast after my walk, and I agree that sounds like a great idea. Choices, eh? Today, and every day.

Our perspective on the world is informed through our choices regarding where to turn our attention.

I breathe, exhale, and relax – and set off down the trail after watching the last splashes of the colorful sunrise fade to a new day. Reaching my halfway point, I sit awhile on a handy fence rail at the edge of a meadow. I watch the sunshine light up the oak trees in an adjacent grove. Beautiful. Also choices. I don’t think about every choice I make, in every moment. Some things seem to flow one moment to the next in some determinate “natural” way, but these too are choices, and they are the sort of choices that can easily become problematic; they are not carefully considered and thoughtful. Even some brief pause between actions to consider the options is probably better than being on “autopilot” or following some path as though I were on rails (like a train more than a hike). I think about that as I watch little birds living their moments. “How much do they choose?”, I wonder.

Thinking things over is healthy. Critical thinking skills are worth developing, practicing, and using. It’s quite freeing to make a willful well-considered choice. Having real agency is powerful. These are all practices, and they are choices.

Choices upon choices requiring choices about choices – so many choices! I brush off my jeans as I get to my feet, still thinking about choices and the power we have to choose our path, and even the sort of world we want to live in. Every choice matters, and it’s already time to make the next choice and begin again.