August 5, 2022
Views from today’s hike on Moonshine Creek trail
Let’s try something new — come join me along a short hike on Moonshine Creek trail. It’s in the San Felasco Hammock Preserve near Gainesville, Florida.
This a favorite quick hike of mine that meanders a couple miles in a hardwood forest for total (and blissful) immersion with nature.
Got yer water and a cap? Away we go!
Edible American Beautyberries greet me on the way in (supposedly crushing their leaves creates a natural mosquito repellant)
A trail blaze marking the way - what a glorious sight!
That feeling standing naked in the rain in the woods? Primal. (Crazy too but you only live once!)
August 3, 2022
THOUGHTS OF THE MOMENT
Cycle of inspiration, new invisibility cloak
I find myself still rattled about my daughter’s situation. I hope she finds some kind of resolution. She’s far too young to be in that kind of place so soon us older people tend to experience.
I feel her pain in my heart still and as her Dad I wish I could just make it go away and all be well.
It’s her path to walk and her choices. As always I honor that because by doing so I honor her. It’s why our bond is so strong — we have an infallible trust and love in each other shaped in part by respecting her agency even as a child. She also knows I’ll be there in a drop of a hat whenever she needs no matter how far away I am.
In the beginning of my wanderings I used to feel guilty for straying so far away from her even as she lives her own life. However, I’ve come to see how much she loves that I’m doing what I love and it inspires her to do what she loves.
As a result she clearly enjoys her life, her work and the things she does. Her life’s truth clearly radiates from her because she lights up with joy talking about these things.
So she inspires me, too.
And the cycle repeats.
Halfway through this weird life on earth, I’ve noticed the older I get the more unseen I become.
Elders used to warn me that day would come when we’d become invisible to most of society and I’m finding they’re right (as usual).
It’s so interesting how we start fade in the eyes of others when hitting the mid-century mark. It’s also a natural occurrence so it’s not something I resist. Go with the flow, as they say, and enjoy because your best years are ahead.
Again they’re right. The wisdom that comes with age is life’s reverse-kryptonite. It’s why when I look back I often wish I had that wisdom with me back then because life would be so much easier, right?
But then I wouldn’t have experienced life in the first place. It’s not just about the learning, it’s the journey to that wisdom that makes all the difference.
Being invisible? I don’t mind it.
In fact, I like it very much because all these years growing up deaf in a hearing world I always stuck out like a sore thumb.
Now I don’t.
I’m loving my invisibility coat of aging.
August 1, 2022
THOUGHTS OF THE MOMENT
Time lost, “bookselves”, our tree rings
I recently returned from visiting mom down south and I wanted to go back. I always enjoy our time together, esp. when we swim the ocean at sunset and long talks over the swell of waves.
I only stayed a few days to rush back and get a move on camper renovation stuff only to realize when I got back that it could have waited a bit longer. That time with family is so precious (and short on earth!) it ought to be a priority rather than something stored in-between things to do.
Next time I should remember to stop and ask myself:
*Do I really need to do this thing and put off extra time spent with mom?”
Had I paused my mind and asked this I would have stayed.
Once again this speaks to cultivating awareness and not mindlessly rushing to and fro.
Awareness lost is time lost.
I ran into a regular at the local pool I frequent (’tis wonderful relief after those long, hot hikes) and we started talking for the first time. In the past all I knew of her was her friendly smile and wave.
It was fascinating. The more we talked the more I learned about her — her identity was unfolding itself in the eye of my mind. The things we told each other of our adventures and life, etc. all in a span of a few minutes was amazing and a reminder that we all have stories to tell and share.
That those we see across the room and don’t know have untold depths of layers far more than we could ever imagine. That what we see is only a tiny fragment of who they really are.
Books. We’re all unopened books stuffed with chapters of life within. When we open our bookselves to each other we’re forever enriched.
Oh the stories we could tell…
When I was first walloped by Lyme disease, my beard rapidly turned white.
A few years later when I had COVID (mild, even) white streaks started appearing in what’s left of my red hair.
It’s so strange to witness visible changes like that. And how aging sneaks up on you.
I always thought it’d be more gradual and maybe it is but when your body undergoes major shocks everything is thrown out of whack.
So when I see my hair I’m reminded of those fallen trees whose rings share tales of moments of trauma over their long years.