Benchmarks and Milestones

I’m paused on the trail. I arrived just as the park gates opened, put on my boots and got started down the trail moments after daybreak. The trail was still quite dim and I have it to myself, even now. I  set a good pace, and at my planned turnaround point (a riverfront viewpoint) I stopped to catch my breath and write. It’s a cool morning, but not so chilly that my fingers would struggle with my phone. I’m warmed through from the walk.

My night was wakeful and not especially restful after my Traveling Partner woke me up. I don’t remember why he woke me, only that it was difficult to get back to sleep, and my sleep was interrupted with wakeful moments and anxious dreams from then until morning. Less than ideal. He left me a sweet and kind apology note, which I saw when I woke. I’m okay. Not mad or cranky about it,  just not well-rested. Maybe a nap later…?

…There are nutria playing along the riverbank. I watch them awhile…

It’s a gray rainy looking morning. There’s laundry to do. Vacuuming. Salad greens in the garden are looking good, and I consider carefully harvesting enough of the more mature outer leaves for a salad for breakfast after I return home. It’s Sunday…

Today is a “benchmark day”. Time to take my next dose of Ozempic, do my weigh-in, and take a couple pictures of progress-to-date. This is my 4th shot. This is also the first time I’ve ever approached fitness and weight-loss from a perspective of actual eagerness and confidence, since I was  bodybuilding in the 80s. It helps to see the progress, and as with so many things, the progress is often only visible if I’m really looking for it. So, the meal tracking, weigh-ins, and weekly progress photos serve to help me see the reality of my subjective experience. I found myself actually excited to get to Sunday, my “benchmark day”, more and more as the week progressed, and here I finally am.

…I am curious about the outcome…

Life is full of benchmarks and milestones. Celebrating those, big and small, has real value, and amazing potential to lift us up – or “set us straight” about where we are on a given journey. I  sigh contentedly,  sitting in this place, listening to the birds, and the river as it flows by. It’s a beautiful morning and I made it to this goal, this lovely place to sit with my thoughts, in good time. That’s another piece of my fitness journey; overcoming my pain, and mobility issues, to “go further, faster”. I’m pleased to be back to being comfortable with 2.5 miles. I’m eager to reach 3… then 5… I’m counting on practice and incremental change over time. I know this works.

I’m grateful that I’m still walking.

A bit of daylight breaks through the clouds. It’s time to head back down the trail to other moments and beginnings…

America Hates Women

I’m sipping my coffee, and trying my best not to be bitter. Too much anti-woman garbage in the news, and it inevitably filters into my consciousness. I put on music to soothe my soul, and remind me that the path ahead is not reliably smooth or paved.

I don’t prefer to pour my anger onto the page, spilling like the blood I’ve already shed, wasted like the time it would take to try to argue the point that women are fully human, conscious, with agency and their own reasons to live beyond being brood mares or objects to be used for sexual fulfillment. Fucking hell, I hope you’re at least not surprised to learn that there are many decision-making individuals in the world who don’t see women as fully human conscious beings with rights and agency… because, yeah, that’s a fucking thing. Unfortunately. Second-class. An after-thought. Hell, there are people who disagree with women having the vote – or the right to withhold their consent. No shit. Wild, right? Disappointing, certainly – and yeah, I’m angry about it. Are you kidding me? Ohio just criminalized marital rape – it’s 2024 – until now, it’s been just fine to go ahead and rape your wife. Hell, if that’s too much work, go ahead and drug her, then rape her, totally legal. Gross. We can’t do better than this?

…A lifetime of seething impotent rage, just waiting for an opportunity. I’m an American woman…

I take a breath and a sip of my coffee. These aren’t abstract concerns for me; I’m a woman. Lacking the option to willfully choose not to bear children would have changed my life dramatically. My educational options would have been diminished (because that was a thing, and not so long ago). My career options, too, would have been very different, and very limited. My leisure hours could not have been spent on art – I’d have been forced to devote my time to child-rearing. That wasn’t the life I wanted, at all. Nothing about me is particularly “maternal” beyond having a vagina and a uterus, and by the time I reached adulthood, my chaos and damage were so profound that any child of mine was going to have a rough fucking go of it – it takes a long time for trauma to heal, even with persistent self-work. I knew when I was just 14 that I did not want children. That’s still true. (I am fond of my stepson; I met him shortly after he finished high school. He’s a good guy, doing his best, and he’s come so far since I first met him. I enjoy being a bystander on the relationship my Traveling Partner shares with his son – and that’s close enough to motherhood for me.)

I breathe, exhale, relax – and remind myself not to allow my anger to poison me. “The way out is through”, for sure, but no need to be ridiculous about it. Tantrums and lashing out don’t help anyone understand things more clearly, and don’t help me feel better. Hell, tantrums and lashing out don’t even give me momentary relief. You know what does? Knowing that my Traveling Partner, the person I go home to each day and wake with each morning, doesn’t hate me, doesn’t hate women, and understands us to be wholly human people. There’s comfort and healing in that. I’ve come a long way from that angry young woman who stood on the threshold of adulthood wanting vengeance.

I sip my coffee, and watch the dismal rainy gray dawn unfold on an America that hates women. You know who you are (although you’re probably not reading this). Do better, for fucks’ sake. There are little girls everywhere each trying to become the woman they most want to be – give them a fucking chance.

I sigh quietly. I’ve gotten caught up in a moment of pain. I breathe, exhale, relax, and let it go – again. I watch the little brown birds in the park, and the traffic making the trip around the block below, looking for parking. The rain falls softly. It’s an ordinary day, and there is no cure for pain – just a new moment, and a chance to begin again…

…Let it go…

…Begin again.

Unlimited Freedom

…Unlimited freedom… That sounds so good, right? And here in the United States of America, we have that… right? Nope. Not even close. Get over that shit sooner than later. LOL In the free-est country in the world, no one has “unlimited freedom”, ever, at all. It’s not a thing. We are each and all constrained by the limitations of the laws of our country, by the social contract we live under, by the rules and taboos of society, family, tribe, school, and workplace, and by the non-negotiable realities of, well, reality. lol There is no such thing as “unlimited freedom”. So. Yeah. Let that one go.

This lack of freedom from limitations on our freedom doesn’t have to be a colossal buzz kill, though… in the least free nation in the world, we’ve each still got some freedoms, and some freedom. Fewer than in the most free nation in the world, sure, but… the most important freedoms we each have can not easily be taken from us, as individuals, unless we choose to give them away.

I’m just saying… you can only drive as fast as the cars ahead of you and road conditions permit. You can only spend as much money as you have – or can borrow at a cost. You can only be as comfortable as the resources available to you permit. You can only be as well as your health and available medical care provide. You can only make choices based on the options you are aware of. There are limits. Constraints placed on all of us by reality itself. Those limitations on our freedom are non-negotiable. Fighting that by seeking “unlimited freedom” is … fairly silly. There are more productive uses of your time.

You are free to choose and free to act – and free to bear the consequences of your decisions and actions.

…Why am I even thinking about this? I don’t know. It’s just what happened to be stirred up in my thoughts this morning. I am sipping my coffee, pretending to be free of pain, watching the rain fall… and thinking about the rather ridiculous notion of “unlimited freedom”. We’ve each got “freedom up to a point” to work with, and it’s rather a lot (depending on geography and lines on a map) – but it’s for sure not “unlimited”.

I’m free to pretend to be free of pain… I’m fortunate to have prescription pain relief available, and it helps but doesn’t remove my pain entirely. So… How “free” am I? I mean… I have the freedom to choose whether to make my pain the center of my day. I have the freedom to choose what steps I take to manage my pain and to seek relief. The outcome isn’t so much in my hands; reality will have its say. Nonnegotiable. So. I’m in pain. It’s a rainy day and my arthritis is griefing me hardcore. It thoroughly sucks. But… I’m still free to choose not to make it the center of my day, to go on and do what I can with what I’ve got, and enjoy this moment, and the next, and maybe the entire day. That “freedom of choice” thing? That’s a big deal. It’s powerful. What we do with it has a lot to do with what our experience feels like – and how much “freedom” we feel we do have.

…Choose wisely…

I sit watching the rain fall. (I’m free to do so.) I sip my coffee. I think my thoughts. My mind wanders, I bring it back to the falling rain. I breathe, exhale, relax, and feel background stress I wasn’t fully aware of diminish. A new morning, new day, new beginning… and ahead of me so many small choices to make. There’s freedom in that. In both the new beginning, and in the choices – and there are so many opportunities to begin again, to choose well (or just choose, at all – I’m not telling you how to live your life). If we allow ourselves to tumble through circumstance without making willful considered choices… we’ve still chosen. It’s a wild ride.

What will you do with the time you have, and the freedom you’ve got? What does success look like to you? What options have you got to face what assortment of challenges on the path you’ve taken? Could you choose differently and get a different result? (tl;dr – yes.) Will you? Who even are you, when you are alone with yourself? Rhetorical but important questions… I think about them rather a lot.

How best to be the person I most want to be, living my best life as I understand that…? I sigh and finish my coffee. I guess a good first step is to begin again. 😀 I may not change the world… but I can change my experience. I’m free to do that.

When Daydreams Become Plans

For a long time I daydreamt of having a home of my own. I couldn’t call it planning, at all, because… I wasn’t. I was just daydreaming. The difference, I think, being that a daydream can be expansive, fanciful, and very nearly wholly unconstrained by any sense of reality or real-world limitations from a practical perspective, and planning… well, it isn’t that. A plan has to account for reality, legitimate limitations in resources, time, skills, and opportunity. A plan can be (must be) acted upon to produce the desired result. Acting upon a daydream may result in that dream becoming a plan, and potentially, at some point, that plan becoming something real – but a daydream, as a daydream, is just the mental equivalent of cotton candy. Sweet, but without substance.

Now I’ve got my own home. I got there by way of good fortune, good timing, the help and support of my Traveling Partner, and a plan. I’ll note that if I’d planned sooner, more skillfully, and in a more forward-looking fashion, as a much younger woman, the reliance on good fortune and good timing may have been reduced, and perhaps I’d have had my own home sooner…? That’s something I think about now and then, although I’m quite content with the home I have. Things worked out pretty well.

…I do enjoy daydreaming, though…

I daydream about camping (and hiking) all the time. Any moment of stress is likely to find me turning my thoughts to a distant trail, a remote campsite, the long drive to get to the quiet place, until my mind is eased and the stressful moment has passed. Daydreaming has a function. I daydream when I’m stuck on a problem. I daydream when I’m bored. I daydream to calm my mind, and to find inspiration. I daydream as I drift off to sleep, until my daydreams become the surreal circus of nighttime dreams.

…I’m also super into planning…

I’ve been daydreaming of Spring camping for weeks, since well-before the temperatures were warm enough for my idea of comfortable camping. I whiled away delightful minutes thinking about one camp ground or another, various trails I’d like to walk, doing some wildflower photography, quietly meditating among the trees, or on the beach, or in the high desert… or… somewhere. As April has progressed, warmer temperatures have returned (at least in our area), and I shifted gears from daydreaming to planning… and now I have a plan. I’ve got a location picked out. I’ve got a camp site selected (and reserved). I’ve got my Oregon State Park Special Access Pass renewed. I’ve identified some trails I’d like to hike. I’ve also identified some things that need doing before I go (like get an oil change, and get my brakes done). I’ve laid out a list of equipment I definitely want to take, that I’ll need to get out of winter storage and look over for damage. I’ve got a plan. 😀 Looks like I’m going camping in May! I’m excited about that, and feeling pretty prepared, even though all I’ve done is make a plan. There’s joy in the planning itself, most especially because it allows me to more realistically enjoy the anticipation, while also maximizing the successful outcome of the experience itself; I’m more prepared through planning.

…It helps not be too attached to the outcome…

Plans are only plans. The map is not the world. Plans may lead to great things, but along the way there will be missteps, inconveniences, and reality having its way with the outcome. Being too attached to how things really happen can result in a lot of unnecessary stress, and in practical terms a loss of enjoyment. No reason to do that. I make a point to also plan for things to go wrong. For the plan to break down. For alternate options to be something that will be needed. I’m planning hikes – but what if it rains? Would I be hiking the sandy muddy trails then? Maybe not. So I’ll also bring a book. lol It’s part of the fun of planning, for me; anticipating the things most likely to go “wrong”, and to be just as ready for those things as for the things I’m legit planning for.

So… I’ve got my camping trip planned. Now there’s some waiting time, then I’ll begin to execute the plan – beginning with staging my gear and making a point to replace things like band-aids and Benadryl, and making a point to put a fresh bee sting kit in my pack. Shopping for food items. Packing clothes and gear. I’ll be so excited by the time I load the car… and according to my plan, that’ll be about 24 hours before I hit the road, heading for a campsite I’ve already reserved – because I planned. 😀

A future destination. I’ve got a plan.

Momentum

The sun is rising, shining beautiful hues of gold and brilliant white light into the office through these big windows. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I feel encouraged by recent developments in my life, and plans I’m making for camping in May. I feel “more well” than I have for awhile, and moment-to-moment, day-to-day, even my pain feels just a bit more managed – and manageable. It is “real”? I don’t know, but I enjoy the feeling in this moment as if it is. Why not? Savoring our small joys and moments of delight, pleasure, contentment, joy, and wonder fuel us for future moments that are perhaps less than ideal.

Taking a moment in the morning.

Minutes pass. I sip my coffee, contentedly. Pleasant morning. Looks like a pleasant day ahead. My tinnitus chimes, rings, hisses, and buzzes in my ear loud enough to obscure the sound of the ventilation. I sigh quietly; I can hear that, and it helps anchor me to the “hear and now”. 🙂

I think about the upcoming camping, eagerly planning details in my head, then replanning them, then considering new questions, other options, different details. This will continue until the weekend before I go, most likely. That’ll be when I pull my gear out of winter storage, and look it over for anything needing repair, or replacement. I’ll restock consumables, if necessary, and check things for “use by” dates that may have passed. I’m camping a Monday through Friday plan, and although I may not stay the full week, I’ll be ready to. I’ll pack up the car on Sunday, and leave early Monday morning after I wake, and maybe after coffee with my Traveling Partner (if he’s up, that’s a lovely way to start a day).

I glance at the clock. It’s already time to begin again…