I haven’t slept much. I got up as planned, and it definitely felt too early. Vertigo (mild) and a headache (about average) greeted me as I opened my eyes. I dressed and left the house making a point to grab my respirator on the way out; air quality has been unpredictable and often hazardous. I check the AQI before I go.
… I am grateful to see another sunrise…
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I get to the trailhead at the nature park as the gate grinds open. It’s daybreak and there is a dense white mist in the low places. The horizon is an irritated dirty orange, hazy and unhealthy looking. There are several active wildfires to the east, unsurprising given the color of the sunrise.
The morning feels cool, in spite of being rather warm, relatively speaking. Nice morning for walking. I get to my halfway point pretty quickly this morning, after setting a brisk pace and staying focused on the walking.
I’m so tired. I never went soundly back to sleep after I had gotten up to pee, last night. Various noises (and sometimes my Traveling Partner) woke me again and again, each time just as I was settling into a deeper sleep. It was a difficult night. My beloved seemed to be asleep as I left the house. It’s hard to be sure. I hope so. After a night like that, he definitely needs some sleep. I’m grateful that it is Saturday. Maybe I can grab a nap later?
Sleep difficulties are vexing. I’ve had a difficult relationship with sleep all my life. Nightmares. Sleep paralysis. Somnambulance. Exploding head dreams. Night terrors. Insomnia. Circadian rhythm disturbances from shift work. Sleep aversion. My problematic relationship with sleep began when I was a toddler and continues into the present, although far less severe now.
I can thank my Traveling Partner for a large part of my improved relationship with sleep. During our first year living together, he observed that if I could reduce my anxiety about being awake, I would at least be able to find some way to make use of the time, possibly even enjoy it. He was right. Removing the anxiety and frustration made the wakefulness itself inconsequential, and from there I learned to (mostly) make some gentle use of wakeful hours during the night. At some point there was less wakefulness, though I still have occasional difficult or sleepless nights. I no longer take them so personally. My sleep hygiene has improved, too. All of it matters.
I stretch and yawn. The stretch feels good. The sun continues to rise. A new day. Promising – but aren’t they all?
I sigh to myself. The difficult night makes my mind fuzzy. Housework and painting maybe? I thought maybe driving my RC car would be fun, but it’s going to be another very hot day, and if the AQI increases in the afternoon, as it did yesterday, maybe Sunday would be better? I don’t know. I’m glad I’m already done with doing Amazon returns for my beloved. I’d surely mix them up operating under this amount of bleary-eyed fatigue, today. Housework would be a more productive use of my time, today. I don’t know.
… I remind myself to get coffee beans…
I breathe, exhale, and relax. I can slow down and let the day unfold gently on its own terms. That works too. I look down the trail, the brown meadow grasses turned to gold by the rising sun. It’s a beautiful time to begin again.
Evening Light 