It is a Friday morning. It’s also payday. I get an iced coffee on my way to the trailhead. Blonde roast, black coffee, extra ice.
[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]
The coffee tastes almost sweet. I love that first drinkable sip and the refreshing feeling of the ice cold liquid chilling me just a little with each swallow. I reach the trailhead, park, and sort myself out for the walk. Cane. Headlamp. Rain poncho. Yep – the sprinkling that followed me here continues to fall quite steadily, and I definitely want my rain poncho. My iced coffee goes back to the cupholder, my feet to the pavement.
I start down the trail happily contemplating the day ahead, and the weekend. I’ve got a room on the coast for a couple days of storm watching and painting. I’m grateful that my Traveling Partner pointed out the excellent price for the room. I feel loved and understood. He’ll get a couple days without dealing with my challenges on top of his while he works on projects of his own. We both benefit from these little breaks, they tend to remind us of the love we share. I miss him ferociously when we are apart, even if I’m just grocery shopping.
So…a short shift at work and home to pack and head down the highway.
I walk on, thinking about “curses” and hexes. Why? Um…why not? Actually, it’s the remnants of lingering contemplation of a video we watched last night. No link, it wasn’t that good, but it left a residue of unfinished thoughts in my head. I walk on, thinking my thoughts.
The rain continues to fall. Properly raining now, and I half wish I had slept in and had hot coffee at home. I’m not complaining, really, I also like the rain. I like the scent that rises from the wet ground, and the hint of wood smoke on the gusts of wind that whip past me intermittently. I reach my halfway point; a broken down picnic table shoved back under what is left of the tree canopy overhead, evergreens mingled with deciduous trees. I write a bit. Meditate. Respond to my beloved when he pings me to ask about my plan. I feel uplifted and merry.
I chuckle to myself remembering the books I packed for my coastal getaway away. William S.. Burroughs “Naked Lunch” and Thich Nhat Hanh “The Heart of the Buddha’s Teachings”. No, I don’t have an answer for “why those, though?”, they drew my attention from the bookshelf so I dropped them into my “bag of fun distractions”, which also includes my poetry notebook. My mind runs through all the packing steps, for later.
… I’m trying something daring today; no packing list. My intention is to stay present and aware, to take my time and also complete my packing with no drama and nothing forgotten. It’s a hell of a feat to put in front of myself. I feel confident I can manage it…
I breathe, exhale, and relax. The rain falls. The day ahead has purpose, and I feel ready to begin. I get to my feet and stretch before I resume walking. Lovely morning for it. I am thinking of that iced coffee waiting for me in the car. I laugh and wipe the rain from my face and my glasses, turn on my headlamp, and start down the trail.
