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…
It’s early, but the sun is already up, and the sun rise is almost over by the time I get to my desk. I’m not running late, it’s just the changing season. I enjoy the variety, and take a moment to watch the evolving glow reflected in the windows of other buildings. Variety is certainly something I appreciate. This morning, that pleasure in going beyond “the routine” makes itself obvious in my choice of breakfast. I’ve been having a very high protein breakfast, lately, usually hard-boiled eggs, maybe with a small salad of mixed greens or spinach. This morning I’m having oatmeal with nuts and fresh fruit. The ventilation comes on, and I “enjoy” my breakfast with a side of sneezes – seasonal allergies. The trees are all in bloom, and the pollen eventually makes its way into the ventilation system. It is what it is. It’s not personal, it’s just… one of the weeds in the garden of life, I suppose. lol
The weekend was a lovely one, spent in the garden, and in the good company of my Traveling Partner. Time well-spent.
Some species of wild geranium is a very common weed in my garden.
I spent some of my time weeding various flower beds and around the base of some roses, and a small oak. The weed most often catching my eye is some kind of geranium. There are several, and without taking real time to study the features of this one, it’s hard to narrow it down. Invasive, sure. Commonplace, definitely. Mostly harmless, probably. Like a lot of weeds, it’s only a problem because it isn’t what I want to see growing in some particular spot. I pulled a bunch of them out, and tossed them in the yard debris bin, surprised to see that it is already almost full (for the first time this year).
I think about “the weeds” in my metaphorical garden (this life). Here, too, it’s sometimes hard to make an easy distinction between what is a “weed” and what is simply a wildflower growing in a less than ideal location. I think that over for awhile, sipping my coffee, and eating my oatmeal while I watch the sun rise. Because variety in life (and our experiences) is generally a good thing, it makes sense to approach ripping out our “weeds” with a certain bit of caution, and a sense of consideration – what makes a weed? Is there no lasting value to the things we consider “rooting out” of our experience? In the garden, and in life, there are definitely some scenarios in which the “weedkiller” of choice is more toxic than the displaced wildflower that seems so unwelcome in the moment… just something to think about. Certainly, it makes sense to eradicate the “toxic plants” in our metaphorical garden, just as it makes sense to maintain walking paths, stepping stones, flower beds, and structures with care and a sense of aesthetic. There is work to gardening, and to living life (well). The effort pays off in more substantial harvests of better quality, and the joy of simply being in the garden on a lovely Spring day. The flowers are worth a pause, to enjoy the scent, the colors, and the textures. Around every corner is a new perspective, a new angle of light, a new moment of wonder to embrace and enjoy. This is true in the garden and in life.
…The thing is, if we put so much time and care into creating and maintaining our garden, then only “see” it as we exit the car and head into the house, or leave the house for some other destination, without making time to simply enjoy the garden, itself, we miss out on much of the entire point of gardening, in the first place. This too, is true in life as well as in the garden…
So… I guess I’m saying, in spite of the busy-ness of adult life, and the demands placed upon me by work, and home, and responsibilities, and goals… I do myself a tremendous favor by slowing down to really enjoy the journey. To stroll through life’s garden, smelling the flowers and enjoying the sunshine, is the point of having the garden (well, and maybe also growing food). It’s not really there for show, or to impress the neighbors, or while away the weekend hours “staying busy”… it’s there to delight, to offer respite, to present small wonders, and a moment to breathe the scents of Spring and find joy (and harvest tasty vegetables).
…I sip my coffee, and think about my garden – and my life…
Rose “Sweet Chariot” – and some weeds.
There’s so much to do. So much to put time, effort, and thought into. So many projects I would like to get to. So many paintings I’ve yet to paint, and books I still want to read. The journey is the destination – in life and in the garden. Is my garden perfect? Hell no. lol I’ve got weeds. I’ve got bare spots. I’ve also got… flowers, vegetables, and sunshine. No, my life isn’t “perfect” and neither is my garden – but it’s mine, and it’s worth my time, consideration, and enjoyment. There’s more to do, but there’s no point rushing – I’m already “here”, wherever “here” is, and there’s plenty of time to begin again.
Misty, chilly Spring morning and I have the trail to myself. Bliss. I walked with my uninterrupted thoughts, watching the sunrise. The park gate opened at 05:45, pleasantly early, enough light to walk the trail without a headlamp or flashlight. So little traffic on the nearby highway, all I hear are the sounds of nature and wildlife… and my tinnitus. lol I’m okay with it. Beautiful morning.
Health and fitness-wise, this morning is a small milestone; 3rd shot on Ozempic, first weigh-in (at home) since I started it. I even get to discontinue another medication, since I am tolerating the Ozempic well, I get to discontinue the beta blocker I am taking, which also means getting back some energy, being a bit less out of breath when I am walking, and losing the edema in my ankles that developed when I started the beta blocker. I am excited about that.
Will I be bummed if I haven’t yet lost any weight? Nope. My overall health and feeling of wellness is improving and that’s the actual point (and goal). More energy means more exercise, more easily, and the results over time are what matter. Increasing my activity level and skillfully managing my calories and nutrition will get me down the path. It’s not a sprint, it’s an endurance challenge. lol
The mist is still clinging to the marsh, as I return to the car. The Canada geese take flight in large flocks that fill the sky overhead. The golden sun shine begins to fill the sky with warmth and light, and I am smiling as I walk, thinking my thoughts and feeling pretty good.
The most recent updates about my Traveling Partner’s injury and recovery are somewhat reassuring and provide some hope and encouragement. I feel more comfortable planning to camp in May. I’m excited about the possibility of also feeling stronger and having more energy for it, too.
The weekend isn’t over. There’s more to do at home, and in the garden. It’s already time to begin again.
I got a great walk this morning, watching the sun rise as I walked. My allergies, which typically flared up only rarely but seem more likely to be seasonal these days, were bothering me from the moment I woke. I’ve been dealing with them since, taking OTC remedies and walking back to the car with the pockets of my hoodie filled with used tissues. I’m also in a ferocious amount of pain this morning, and having already taken a prescription pain reliever, on top of the allergy meds, I feel stuffy and a bit stupid. Didn’t stop me from getting a walk in, but likely slowed me down a bit.
…It’s 4/20… Saturday. Once upon a time this “counter culture holiday” would have had great meaning for me, and my day would have been planned around it. Not so much these days, though my Traveling Partner made a point to wish me well with a holiday greeting and I returned the merry sentiment. My plans just aren’t built around this anymore, and cannabis is legal here and it’s use quite commonplace. So… yeah. Happy 4/20, though. 😀
My plans today are mostly to do with tidying up the deck and draining, cleaning, and refilling the hot tub, and I am hoping to do it all in spite of the pain I’m in… I hope I can. I’d really like to be using the hot tub.
…It’s sort of peculiar, I think, that I don’t easily account for pain in my planning. I would benefit from being more skillful about that. I’ve learned not to over-commit when I do plan tasks and projects, but I seriously underestimate the limitations pain may place on my abilities. This may be a product of routinely trivializing my pain, to attempt to prevent it from “getting the upper hand” or defining my experience. It’s a real limitation though, at its worst, and the result is that failing to account for it realistically sometimes fucks with my planning (or more specifically, my execution of said planning). I sit with my thoughts for a few minutes…
…fuck pain…
I sigh to myself. Drink some water. Look over my grocery list. I guess it’s already time to begin again…
This morning as I drove in to work, I found myself behind the #17 bus as I entered the city. It sparked memories of commuting on that bus line for so many years. Recollections of an altogether different life. A moment of nostalgia swept over me… then I began to recall what those years were really like. I stopped feeling that soft fond sense of “a simpler time” – because it was not simpler, at all, and it was complicated, messy, and deeply unhappy rather often. It was a time of struggle, and of limited resources, and sometimes even of hopelessness and a sense of futility. I’m quite glad those years are behind me now.
I arrived at the office and got the day started. It’s a payday, and I took time to look at the budget and communicate numbers to my Traveling Partner and to get his thoughts.
I remembered an unfinished task from yesterday; it’s time to renew my “special access pass” with the State Park system (a really wonderful benefit for disabled veterans). As I moved through the new online workflow last night, I hit a requirement to provide an updated benefit letter from the VA and this stalled me doing the renewal easily from my phone, so I put it off for today. It was much easier on a browser from my laptop. Then I actually looked at the letter. How the fuck is this thing still using my previous married name from my first marriage?? Gross. I don’t use that name. I don’t like that name. That name holds reminders of a terrifying dark time in my life that I really don’t care to revisit if I don’t have to. 😦 My skin crawls with revulsion and loathing and residual fear just reading the name. I sigh out loud. Stand up and stretch. Work to explicitly let the moment go, within myself. My defenses are all up and I’m suddenly incredibly tense and wary. What a bunch of bullshit. Fuck that guy. Fuck that life. Fuck that name. I survived, and I’m here now, and this is not then.
…I take a moment to breathe, exhale, relax, and let it go…
…I look out the big office windows onto a city that never knew me then, on a beautiful Spring morning as the sun rises…
Crazy how long the damage can last, how long trauma can linger…