I woke ahead of my alarm this morning, but not by much. The morning is a colder one, but still barely freezing. I get to the trailhead just at daybreak, early enough to see the sun rise as I walk.
My walk begins in a westerly direction, and proceeds “counter clockwise” around this property, between vineyards, and a creek, and eventually finishing parallel to the highway before cutting back towards the parking. This is no wilderness trail; much of it is paved, some of it it lit. This one is my close-to-home trail, safe, level, and convenient. On my most difficult days, it is my easiest walk.
As the trail begins to bend, I get a glimpse of the sunrise as I reach my halfway point. Fog is settling in, obscuring the view.
I sit for a few minutes of meditation and writing. I have the trail to myself this morning. The solitude is pleasant. The work day will begin soon enough, and I’m not inclined to rush that.
I sit staring into the tree tops, enjoying the moment. I sigh to myself and wonder what’s next? The view reminds me of an old oil painting, scattered clouds of not quite uniform shape and size, subtle hues of pastel pink and pale blue. The trees along the edge of the creek beyond the vineyard stand out against the pale blue sky, an indistinct smudge of darkest green slowly being swallowed up in morning mist. The sky to the south is infused with pink and streaked with lavender clouds. The sunrise is orange. Pretty. A good day to fill the gas tank and drive to the horizon. Well, it’s a nice idea, but it’s also a work day. 😆
The mist surrounds me, now. All the colors of morning are covered in a wash of white, dimming them and creating an illusion of mystery, rendering everything somehow less real. I sit watching the mist gather.
I think about the work day ahead with little enthusiasm. It’s just a thing that needs doing, eh? Pays the bills. I sigh to myself, noticing the lack of enthusiasm, and accepting it. I haven’t even decided where to work today… home? Library? Elsewhere? Don’t know, don’t care. I’d frankly rather not, today, but I don’t have a legitimate reason why, and I do have shit to do that needs doing.
The weird thinking that “gainful employment” and “productivity” are somehow the measure of human success vexes me. It’s an idea that only serves those who seek to benefit from it. We’re a pretty fucked up, shortsighted species terribly prone to cruelly exploiting others, and incredibly vulnerable to being exploited. We’ve done real harm to our planet, and each other, generally over seriously stupid ideas like “shareholder profits” or personal wealth and power. It’s disappointing. We still keep throwing money and adoration at grifters and fuckwits who continue to harvest our data and our resources, as if the lies they told yesterday aren’t enough to convince us they will be lying tomorrow also.
I sigh out loud, startling a small bird near my foot. Why the grim turn in my thinking? Seems odd, until I acknowledge the physical pain I’m in. Right. There’s that too, and it does tend to color my outlook. I’m feeling pretty “over” people, lately, to the point that any time I think about it explicitly, my eyes begin to tear up. There’s just no escape, lately, and I feel trapped, having to maintain a smile and a gracious approachable presence for all the many people I may interact with who have done me no meaningful or intentional harm. They exist. I exist. I treat them with kind civility as consistently as I can…. but I’d rather be alone awhile, unbothered and without obligations. Hard to find right now.
“This too will pass,” I remind myself. Change is. Impermanence, too. The tears sliding silently down my cheeks are cold. The fog around me now is dense and the clock is ticking. I dry my eyes and try to shake off this blue funk, for another day. It’s time to begin again. I’ll just have to do my best.
Evening Light 