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Perspective

March 5, 2025 //
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I’m sipping my coffee and enjoying this relaxed moment between the beginning of a new day, and whatever the next moment may hold. The sun is rising, and I see the edge of the sunrise beyond the window, the blue sky, the trees, the clouds, and – the reflections of the work day as images of office lights and the space behind me on the window glass. It’s a metaphor for perspective – and a reminder that I create a substantial portion of my experience based on what put my attention on.

Perspective on the day ahead and this moment.

Which is most real? The world beyond the window? The work in front of me? The chatter and hum of the office(s) behind me? Am I focused on this moment, or some other moment? I can choose to put my attention here, or there, or elsewhere. I can choose my point of view, and I can broaden my perspective to include experiences other than my own through my awareness, my ability to observe, my understanding, and my compassion. It is possible to understand more than my own limited experience, but there are verbs involved.

I sit awhile reflecting on perspective, as I observe the reflections in the window while the sun rises. I see that woman I am so familiar with gazing back at me. There was a time when I was chronically unhappy with her (and about her), and dissatisfied with her very existence. I’m in a different place with her these days – she is my best friend, my shadow, my constant companion, my past, present, and future. I see her smile back at me, aware that “it isn’t all about her“. Useful perspective. It’s a big world and there’s more than me doing my thing going on, on this strange mudball hurtling through space. We’re each having our own experience, and there are a lot of us. Each human. Each worthy of consideration and basic human decency. (Yes, “them” too; being considerate and decent even to some objectionable other is more about me being decent than it is about them, at all, isn’t it?)

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I feel content and comfortable with myself, this morning. Feels like a good start to the day. I gave myself a headstart on this good morning by not watching the president’s address to congress last night. I didn’t have the heart to be that disappointed in humanity just then. I put self-care first. Worth it. I’m not all spun up and angsty over the imminent demise of American democracy, or the horrific failure of our nation to be “great” (ever). Some things are within my control, some things are not; I can take care of me (with consideration and self-respect), and I can do my very best to be the best possible version of the woman I most want to be with the skills I have right now. It’s the best I can do to change the world; be my best self, and avoid being a jerk to other human beings. It’ll have to be enough. This morning, it is.

Pain is pain. This fragile mortal vessel has its limitations. Saw my doctor yesterday, got referred for imaging, and it’ll be a referral to a specialist from there, based on the imaging. Such is the way of things. If I could give my younger self any advice at all, it would be “take care of your body, you’ve only got this one”. That’s a pretty broad recommendation, covers a lot of stuff, and it’s not like she’d have listened – she was once in a very “live fast/die young” place as a human primate. That’s unfortunate – I wish she’d have given the future just a bit more consideration. lol I stretch, and breathe, and move around some, feeling the pain here and there as sore muscles expand and contract, and various arthritic bones grind one against another. The headache isn’t as bad this morning; I’m grateful for that. I chuckle to myself to have reached this place where some specific measure of pain (versus worse pain) is something to be grateful for. It’s not a merry or joyful or humorous thing, it’s just perspective.

I sip my coffee and contemplate “perspective” – and how mine has changed over the years, with age, with experience, with new information, with joy and wonder and bitter disappointments. I’m not the woman I was at 19, or at 27, or at 32. We’ve very little in common. Even the very cells of this physical body, one by one, have changed. I sit with that a while longer. This? Always a new beginning, each moment, a chance to do better, a chance to become the woman I most want to be. A chance to make better choices in my life. A chance to embrace wiser perspective and make room for an understanding of experiences that are not my own.

It’s time to begin again. What will I do with it? Where does this path lead?

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Categories 2024 Election, Allegories, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Practices, Spring, The Art of Being, winter

Choose Your Ride, Pay For Your Ticket

March 3, 2025 //
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Nothing in life is free. Seriously. You want the thing? You pay the price. You want to embark on that adventure? It comes at a cost. You’re going to take that chance, jump at that opportunity, walk down that path over there? You’ll pay for it, one way or another. This isn’t a threat, nor is it a warning, I’m just saying there’s a price to be paid for our choices, and it isn’t always in cash, or stated clearly up front.

Last Wednesday, the Anxious Adventurer and I finished off the storage move. (Yay!) There was a feeling of accomplishment, but it was also a lot of work. Friday, I took the day off work and spent about 7 hours walking on beaches, with breaks in between to write a few words, or go from “here” to “there” – about 11 total miles of walking, based on my tracker. Saturday began with a 3 mile walk on a favorite trail, and ended with housekeeping, chores, and gardening. Sunday was more of the same. Today? Yeah, today “the bill came due” and I’m paying for all of it; I feel like I’ve been in a serious fight (and lost). My muscles ache from the least of efforts. It was difficult just getting out of bed and getting dressed this morning. My back, legs, shoulders, and neck all ache ferociously, and I’m stiff. So stiff. Today I’m walking with a cane just getting from the car to my desk to the coffee in the office kitchenette, and I’m “wearing my years”. I’m not complaining, just saying this is where I am, and why. I take a moment to consider the sensations of my body. This fragile vessel needs care, and while that’s true every day, right now I’m really feeling it. Funny thing is, most of these things I did so much of were themselves forms of self-care. Hilarious (for some forms of humor). (I guess you had to be there. lol)

I breathe, exhale, and “relax” – best I can, hurting the way I do right now. It’ll pass. I remind myself that there’s always a price to be paid for the things we do, or want, or achieve, even if only the time consumed of our limited mortal years. Was the price too high? No, not at all, and I’m paying it without objection, resentment, or resistence. It is what it is. (Which is, mostly, painful at present.) The moment will pass. The pain will ease. I’ll go on to be stronger for the effort I’ve made, and I’m pleased with the outcome (particularly in the garden). Hell, there’s more yet to do. Life doesn’t pause for a breather just because a task has been completed. There’s always that next step. Another project. Another moment.

…Life being lived; there are verbs involved…

Garden books & seed packets; the plan is not the experience.

I sip my coffee (g’damn I am so sore this morning, even sipping coffee manages to hurt), pleased that it is so good today. I smile thinking about the work in the garden, progress made toward Spring, and seeds yet to be planted. The metaphor of a garden is one of my personal favorites, and I consider what I am planting – in the garden, and in life – and how best to tend my garden for a bountiful harvest. There’s work involved, and it helps to plan, and to proceed with intention, but the path ahead isn’t predetermined, and the way is not always clear. I sigh contentedly in spite of my physical discomfort. I’m fortunate, and I sit with my gratitude for a moment. We become what we practice, for sure, and our choices and actions make a difference in the life we lead – but where our journey begins, and what obstacles befall us along the way, matters too – and we have less control over that. I reflect awhile on my good fortune in life, generally. I’m not saying it’s been “an easy life”, and I’ve surely had what sometimes seems like more than my “fair share” of trauma over the years, but… considering things from the perspective of this one human experience of a lifetime of growth and change and circumstance? I’m fortunate, indeed. (It’s rarely helpful to become mired in pain, or to wallow in the chaos and damage.) I’ve much to be grateful for…

I sip my coffee, think my thoughts, and prepare to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, joy, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Practices, Spring, The Art of Being, turning 60, weight loss secrets, winter

Familiar Unknown Places

February 27, 2025 //
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I didn’t know I was dreaming until I woke. It all seemed quite familiar and very real. I was in a beautifully appointed very modern corporate space, pale hues of bamboo and beige upholstery, live greenery here and there, and fresh, interesting “living wall” accents. The high ceilings and “open office” arrangements were sparsely populated with small groups of Millennial and Gen Z professionals, speaking quietly. Escalators (so many escalators) let from area to area, seeming to cascade downward or rise to new levels around each corner. There were stairs and landings, and small glass offices. There were conference rooms, and the hushed background noise of the ventilation masked the sound of traffic outside.

I knew without being told that this place was in Portland, Oregon. I knew without having to ask that this was some massive corporate “start up” that had long-since outgrown any sort of authenticity, well-established and corrupt. The beauty was all image, no substance. Still, I wandered looking around with a vague sense of purposeful excitement. I felt simultaneously that I somehow “belonged” but was also an outsider.

There were numerous little cafe places here and there, adjacent to working areas. The espresso was hot. The pastries were crisp and flaky. The lines were… yeah. There were lines. lol I waited, now and then, and I wandered. I started at one end of this… building? And I walked the length of it, finding myself aware that it was less like an open world than a specific path, A to B, a fixed journey, no detours or side paths at all, although it often looked like there could be. I reached a place, and a person, and was greeted as a welcome – and expected – friend by someone I vaguely recalled. Didn’t I work with him once at some other place? He invited me to sit, and introduced me to some other, who also welcomed me as expected. Was I there to work? I couldn’t remember changing jobs…but I knew without asking that this place would be paying me a lot of money. I also knew, immediately, that the delights of the espresso, the pastry, and the decor would never ever make up for the corporate hell that this place was going to be…

I woke abruptly, realizing I had been dreaming. Grateful to be where I am, doing what I do. Strange dream. It lingers in my thoughts, reminding me of places I have been, and of former jobs and colleagues from long ago. I find myself wondering what I was trying to tell myself…?

I sigh quietly, looking around this co-work space. Even more modern than the office building in my dream, my current job has no offices at all, anywhere. They are not needed, nor are they truly useful. We work together productively in virtual spaces, and it is enough. Still… the mail has to go somewhere. It comes here. This quiet co-work space with it’s open office space surrounded by small private offices, decorated in pale hues of fake wood finishes, gray carpet with colorful rugs, and “art” on the walls – all copies. It’s fine, and I’m not criticizing, it fully meets the needs of those who use the space, and the artifice tends to be in the decor, instead of in the souls of the people working here. That seems like a good thing.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I look over my calendar and sip my coffee. I’m fortunate to enjoy the work I do. It’s a routine workday, and it’s time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, breathe, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Moments, Perspective, The Art of Being, Words

Easy for You to Say!

January 31, 2025 //
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I slept so deeply last night that I overslept my artificial sunrise by 11 minutes. Usually, I wake up at the first hint of dim light, or slightly before that time entirely. It’s rare to be awakened by the full brightness of the light in the room, and rarer still to “oversleep”. I woke disoriented and groggy, uncertain why the lights were on “so bright” (or at all) “in the middle of the night”? I looked at the time I’d set the alarm for (04:30 a.m.) puzzled. Why were the lights on at 04:41? Was it day? Night? Why was I awake? Did my Traveling Partner need me? Confused and stupid, I turned the light off before realizing that indeed, 4:41 is a later time in the morning than I’d set the alarm for (and usually get up). I sighed quietly, and turned the light back on, dimly. Fucking hell, it felt so early, and I felt so stupid. lol I pushed myself through my routine, still feeling puzzled that it was a new day. I think I could have slept longer, but I’ve no idea why.

The time is…now.

Eventually the morning leads me to the office, and here I am. Thinking about success and failure. Thinking about “getting shit done”, and what it takes to solve problems in life, handle stress, “deal with bullshit”, face change… and I write about these sorts of things quite a lot, and generally in what I hope is a positive and encouraging way (most of the time). I probably make it sound far easier than it is (even for me). There is real work involved in positivity, and in encouraging oneself – it’s not a “fake it til you make it” sort of thing for me; authenticity matters, too. I keep practicing. We become what we practice. I sit here with my coffee considering my failures in life. Those times when I failed to achieve a goal, sure, but also those times when I just wasn’t up to dealing with some circumstance or another properly, and let shit get by far worse because of my own bullshit and baggage and inability to adult successfully in the moment. That shit is real. As real for me as it is for anyone. We’re all walking our own hard mile.

Please don’t understand my encouraging tone or positivity as any kind of indication that this shit is “easy” in life. Sometimes things are hard. Sometimes “doing my best” isn’t good enough. Sometimes I just can’t – and don’t, although I definitely needed to. I’m human. I’m here encouraging myself just as much as I may seem to be encouraging you – and I guess I’m saying, sometimes you’ll still fail yourself (maybe unexpectedly) in some moment that you really meant to do better or more – and that’s very human. Shit gets too real, sometimes. When I fail, I begin again. I say it often, because I often need that reminder. Maybe you will, too. That’s okay. It is a lifetime journey, and the journey itself is the destination. No “do overs” really, but you do get a fresh start with every sunrise, and sometimes that has to be enough. (It usually is, actually.)

No, this thing called life isn’t “easy” (not for most of us, anyway). It’s worthwhile, though, and that counts for a lot. I sip my coffee and give myself a few minutes of quiet time to reflect. Things are going pretty well, generally, these days. It’s not a given that such will “always” be the case – change is. This too will pass – whatever “this” may happen to be. I breathe, exhale, and relax.

…It’s time to begin again. I wonder where this path leads?

We choose our path, our words, our actions.
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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Practices, The Art of Being, winter, Words

Reflections vs Resolutions

January 6, 2025 //
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I’m sipping my coffee, reflecting on the year behind me and thinking ahead to the year that has newly begun. “The journey is the destination.” So it’s said. So I hear. I accept that as a given, actually, after walking my path awhile. It’s the first “proper Monday” of the new year as I sit here at my desk, and I’ve a pen and a small notebook at hand. I make notes as I reflect on my life and my achievements, missed opportunities, and occasional disappointments of the year behind me. The notes are in two columns this time around; “stepping stones” and “pitfalls”. The stepping stones are things I can adopt or continue as practices that will tend to build the life I want to live, and help me become the woman I most want to be. The pitfalls are those things that may tend to hold me back or undermine my progress. Simple stuff.

I’ve given my year a “theme”, intended to represent a destination of sorts, on which I can anchor my intentions, goals, and priorities. This year my theme is “living a quality life”, which I am defining as living my best life without exhausting myself (or my resources).

My list of stepping stones is quite practical, and seems very achievable. It’s not even long, and is made up mostly of things I greatly enjoy. How handy is that? This is by intention; it’s easier to practice things that are either very enjoyable or which have an immediate “pay off”. There are only two wholly conceptual items, but they are important ideas for the year ahead: presence, and consistency. I see them as being necessary to the success of everything else on my list.

  • Learn a language (I’m already working on this one, by working on rebuilding and improving my Czech language skills, which are quite rusty)
  • Read more bound books (I’ve got a stack of them, and I’ve already finished one – but it’s not a race, and comprehension is a key part of the experience)
  • Paint more (this one is a bigger deal than two small words imply, and meets many needs)
  • Walk more/further (788 trail miles in 2024 – can I hit 1000 in 2025? Self-care? Meditation? Fitness? A bit of all that and more.)
  • More strength training (an important part of fitness and health as I age, and utterly necessary as I continue to lose weight and use semaglutide to manage my blood sugar.)
  • Food/diet – explore new recipes and skills (and write down the successes in the new family recipe binder my Traveling Partner gifted me this year! The semaglutide being what it is, food has become a very intentional thing, which seems healthier, too.)
  • Drink more water (the science says it really matters – and I definitely feel better when I do.)

My list of pitfalls is surprisingly short, but each item on that list is a potential chasm – a sinkhole more than a pothole on life’s journey. Self-reflection lets me get down to basics in a way that prevents me from petty self-criticism or negative rumination, and provides me with positive observations I can really work with to limit poor behavioral choices, and to develop better practices that are themselves in line with my “presence” and “consistency” stepping stones. Win!

  • Autopilot (no lie, I like things easy, and I rely on habit and routine to stay the course with some healthy practices, but leaving things on “autopilot” is the literal opposite of being present, and it comes with some troubling negative consequences. It’s worth learning to remain present, aware, and mindful even when being consistent with some routine practice – and potentially more joyful.)
  • Failed practices (being human, failure is a thing and there’s no dodging that, but healthy practices need… practice. Resuming a valued practice that has momentarily failed is a matter of beginning again. Worth the effort.)
  • The fallow garden (literal and metaphorical; 2024 was a terrible year for my garden. My Traveling Partner needed more from me than I truly had to give, and that wasn’t negotiable from my perspective – other things, particularly my garden, fell by the wayside and need new resolve and attention in the year to come.)
  • Malaise (it’s easy to let fatigue push me to failure through exhausted inaction, it’s hard to overcome, but good self-care and careful management of time and energy are worthy tools to prevent falling into this trap)
  • Resentment (another all-to-human trap, this one is avoided through connection, openness, skillful communication and boundary-setting, and reliably consistent self-care)
  • Sugar! (Just keeping it real, this shit is like poison for me.)

This stuff isn’t complicated. Just some notes taken as I reflect on my life and consider what I want out of it. What do I want? I want joy and contentment. I want improved wellness. I want improved intimacy and connection in my relationship(s). I want satisfaction in life and “order from chaos”. I want to live on principles of sufficiency, within my resources. As I said – it’s not complicated stuff, and mostly seems pretty doable. It’s not “fancy”, and as goals go these seem rather more “within reach” than grandly aspirational. I still have to really work at all of this, though. I’m quite human.

I make a point to “set myself up for success”. I’m not looking at the calendar telling myself I need to be a size 8 by next Thanksgiving, or that I’ll be fit to run a marathon by the 4th of July. I’m not making a long list of weighty tomes and demanding that I finish them all before the next new year. In fact, these mostly don’t adhere to “SMART” goals at all. (SMART goals are specific, measurable, achievable, relevant, and time-based, great for professional project management.) My life is not a corporate entity with a 5 year plan and key performance indicators that must be reached to qualify as a success. lol I’m not saying SMART goals are not worthwhile in a great many use-cases. It’s more that I’m a human being, living a life that I’d like to enjoy. My mortal time is finite and precious. So… these are my goals, approached my way. The success is defined by me, based on my values. This works for me. It’s enough.

Speaking of limited time… it’s already time to begin again. I make myself a calendar entry to remind me to look back on this moment of self-reflection later, and see how I did when this year ends. (I do find purposeful self-reflection very useful.)

…I wonder where this path leads…

Seems to be very effective so far… probably doesn’t hurt that the path is mine, and that I choose it myself.
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Categories Allegories, art and the artist, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, joy, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, The Art of Being, weight loss secrets, winter, Words
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