Walking with my Angels and Demons

Today I went on a moderately paced 8 mile hike through the southern edge of Harriman Park with a small group of people from the community college I used to attend (quite a few moons ago).

I breathed the air in and could suddenly recollect every other hike I’d ever been on this time of year. I concluded that this was my favorite time of year for hiking, that this is a intense time of year for me all around.

It’s the season of changes, vata season in ayurveda, and that means it’s easy to get carried away into the ether.

Somewhere in the process of my toes slamming into the fronts of my shoes and consistently dispersing the farts that were stirred up from deep inside me, I had a number of realizations about the darker aspects of my personality come through.

I am quick to be angry.

I’m not a fan of extroverts.

It takes me a long while to feel comfortable in the face of change

and related: I avoid doing things I would potentially like out of fear that I might break my comfortable routine. (aka COMFORT ZONE!)

It feels good (maybe I mean that in a masochistic way) to know where I fall short. I haven’t magically transformed as a result of this information, and it’s not the first time these thoughts have entered my mind, but they feel a little less serious, a little more manageable than before. That strikes me as a good sign.

All that meditation is finally paying off 😉

Aside from all that,

I thought of my grandmother a lot. I thought of my father a bunch. I thought of my mother a few times. I send my sister a telepathic message or three. I went through the rolodex of friends and acquaintances and wished them well. (Of course, they’ll likely never know, and would probably prefer that I actually contact them, but one step at a time…)



There were some interesting signs in Sloatsburg.

“God Bless America, God Bless Trump”

as well as

“Cops Lives Matter”

So there’s lots of that kind of stuff going on up there. It made me appreciate the cultural diversity I reside in day to day. In my suburban world, it’s easier to ignore the haters because they will very likely be shamed unless they find friendly ears to their sentiments.

I just… hate it all. Why must everything be politicized? Why can’t we speak with respect, even when we disagree?

I typed this whole paragraph of thoughts and questions on the matter but decided to delete it because I know it will not fix anything or clarify the situation. The best I can do is to practice patience and respect for those I don’t understand…and pray for understanding.

It’s a great personal challenge and I challenge you to the same!


Enjoy the grainy photos that I have shared from today’s adventure!





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