Archives for category: Healthy Living

Rain fell during the night. The morning air when I stepped out into the predawn darkness was fresh and humid. The days are already noticeably shorter. Daybreak came and went, revealing stormy clouds that threaten the possibility of thunderstorms.

The first hint of a new day.

I put on my boots at the trailhead, my mind on my walk, my heart feeling light, and hoping that my Traveling Partner got a second night of really restful sleep after a change to his medication. These human bodies are so fragile and complicated, and lack a proper user’s manual.

Yesterday was a good day, productive and sufficiently restful to feel as if I got a bit of a break from the grind. Most of my day was spent supporting the Anxious Adventurer, sorting out his vehicle needs for work, and getting his hoopty sold and out of the way. Easy but time-consuming. I was glad I had gone to the store earlier, and that I had a plan for lunch. The day lasted well-past when I might usually go to bed, but we were having a good time hanging out together, and I went with it. There’s been stress and worry and struggle aplenty lately, and it was good to just enjoy a few moments together.

… I still woke up at 4 a.m. LOL

The stormy sky this morning delights me, as the luminous pink of an unseen sunrise shifts with the clouds. I snap a few shots, thinking about those pastels. Maybe today I’ll spend some time painting?

Like thoughts, shifting.

I walked the trail thinking my thoughts and listening to the passing geese overhead. The air smells like it may rain again. I sit at my favorite spot along the trail and listen carefully. Was that thunder? Makes sense that it could be.

… Definitely thunder…

I think about the day ahead. There are things to do to prepare for the week, and next weekend will see me heading down the highway to the coast for a couple days. I’m eager to go, knowing my Traveling Partner won’t be left home alone this time. That’s very reassuring.

My mind wanders. I don’t stop it. I let my thoughts drift as I drink in the fresh air, and this quiet calm moment. It’s such a small thing, but this is an important self-care practice for me, to simply sit quietly and be for some little while. No criticism or doubt, no negative self-talk or worry, just a few quiet minutes as my thoughts drift by like summer storm clouds. I am awake, aware, and grateful. I breathe, exhale, and relax, listening to the sound of distant thunder.

A fat, warm, unexpected rain drop hits my face, and then another, and another. Will it actually rain? Maybe. Maybe not. The “maybe” is enough to put my mind on finishing my walk, so I finish my thoughts, finish my writing, and prepare to begin again.

Yesterday went sideways fast, mostly a byproduct of pain (mine, and his), and associated emotional volatility. Mine. His. It sucked and generally speaking the entire day was pretty much wrecked by it. Oddly, from an outside perspective, apparently, the details of the day amounted to “a great day” characterized by numerous successes, but the emotional qualities of the experience were wildly out of touch with any of that. Being human is complicated sometimes.

As bad as the day seemed, generally, it began and ended well. Not my usual experience, and it seems (on reflection) somehow associated with the addition of the Anxious Adventurer to the household dynamic. Interesting. Looking back on the day it “doesn’t seem so bad”, but good grief I am glad it’s behind me and I am hoping for better today. I’m in less pain… A promising start.

Here comes another opportunity!

I hit the trail just at daybreak. The morning had a slight chill to it that felt refreshing. The sunrise began as a smudgy streak of a reddish hue, like a wound becoming infected. The air was still, and hazy in the distance. My tinnitus was far louder in my ears than the sound of distant traffic. I walked along, listening to my own steps, thinking my solitary thoughts.

…10 days until my coastal getaway…

The case I purchased to hold, protect, and transport my pastels arrived yesterday and I took a moment to put the delicate sticks of colorful pigments into their new home. No more small boxes – just one tidy case. I’m delighted with the result, and feel more prepared for my upcoming trip to the coast to paint. I sit at the halfway point of my walk, thinking about art, love, and inspiration, and watching the sun rise. The work day will begin soon enough, and I’ll turn my thoughts to work when it does. For now, my time is my own.

I’m looking forward to the weekend, though it seems likely to be quite a busy one. I’ve got a number of boxes set aside, filled with small objects and items quickly packed and moved out of the way to make room for the Anxious Adventurer. Now that things are settling down, it’s time to take a closer look, to dispose of what lacks value, to display noteworthy curiosities and decorative things, where space permits, and more carefully pack those things worth keeping but for which the time is not now. Then whatever boxes there are will go to storage for a while. It’s a process that can be a bit emotional, and although I am not dreading it, I’m also not looking forward to it.

I breathe exhale and relax. The sun is deep luminous orange as it rises above the horizon. I save my draft and turn back up the trail. The sunrise dazzles my eyes as I walk through the oaks.

Don’t stare into the sun!

The air is already warming up. I’m thinking about coffee and new beginnings, and change. I’m feeling pretty good this morning, aside from the headache that accompanies me most days.  Getting to the car, I sit on a nearby picnic table to finish my writing, change my boots for softer shoes, and sit for a moment, just being. I watch the sun through the trees and contemplate how I would compose the scene on paper and how that might work in pastel. Old thoughts, new medium.

…Fuck, my tinnitus is so loud. I make a point to listen to myself breathing, which helps “put the tinnitus in perspective” and anchor my awareness to externally audible sounds.

…My Traveling Partner pings me…

It’s hours later. My plans were upended pretty quickly. My morning walk had served to give my partner a bit more time to get the rest he needs, but the Anxious Adventurer has his own routine, and his own work hours, and his own plan, and my partner was awake earlier than he’d hoped, with no likelihood of getting more rest if I were to be working from home, as I’d intended. It was early enough in the morning to make a change, easily, with no particular stress and I offered to do so, and hastened home to grab my laptop and head to the office. It’s nice to have the option. My day ends up starting a bit later than I planned, which means it will end later than I’d like, but if my Traveling Partner gets the rest he needs, it’s a win for both of us.

…The necessity to begin again comes in a lot of forms. The willingness to make a change based on circumstances is a useful first step. Then, by beginning where I actually am, I can proceed to the next thing, the next need, the next plan… the next moment. So far, it’s still a lovely day – and all I had to do was begin again. 😀

Short walk. My ankle aches. My back aches. My head aches. It’s okay, it’s physical pain, and aside from that the morning is a pleasant one. I sit listening to the sound of distant traffic through the buzz and whine of my tinnitus. The sky is a threatening assortment of stormy clouds, blues and grays, but the forecast has no rain in it, just a summer warning about heat and wildfires.

No rain expected today.

I sit quietly with my thoughts. Another work day. Weirdly, I simultaneously feel surprised that it is “already Wednesday”, and also annoyed that “it’s only Wednesday”. lol Human primates are hilarious and not wholly rational about such things. Time is kinda “made up” anyway; there’s only “now“. I chuckle, entertained by my own foolishness. It’s that kind of morning.

We’re seriously the sort of creatures that would think up some dumb shit like this. 🤣

I catch myself picking at my cuticles and make myself stop. I watch the clouds move sluggishly across the sky, colors shifting as the unseen sun rises. The leaves and branches of the trees within view are tossed on a lazy breeze that I don’t feel.

… I remind myself to go by the store on my way home, later…

I had the trail to myself. The park is still deserted. It’s just me, here, on a quiet morning. On the other side of the vineyards adjacent to the park, migrant workers are already working. I wonder to myself who would do all the agricultural work, if we stopped allowing migrant workers to come here for that purpose? I don’t know many people willing to work that fucking hard for so little pay. Another solution would be to pay farm workers a living wage… But I don’t know many people who could afford what groceries would cost then, and I am damned sure the big food conglomerates aren’t going to trim back their profits. It’s a hell of a problem. I think about it pointlessly for some minutes. I have no solutions to offer.

… Human greed is some ugly shit…

My mind wanders this morning and I don’t make any particular effort to be more disciplined. I sit quietly and let the thoughts pass through my awareness without interfering. (Breathe.) It feels good to enjoy the stillness. (Exhale.) These few solitary moments are so precious. (Relax .) I savor the quiet time alone with my thoughts. I try but fail to recall quite when my tinnitus developed and when it became so bad… I feel certain I didn’t have it as a child. I definitely had it when my Traveling Partner and I got together. My outburst of laughter makes me choke on my coffee – that’s “only” a span of some 35 fucking years or so to sift through! lol

… The clock ticks on…

Things are starting to settle down at home.  The Anxious Adventurer is moved in. The household is pretty much restored to order. New routines are beginning to develop. I feel genuinely comfortable with taking a couple days away for myself, knowing my injured Traveling Partner won’t be alone. 11 days? 11 days left to wait. I’m counting them down. I’m excited to spend some time alone with my thoughts and my pastels and see what comes of it.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s an ordinary enough Wednesday, and a pleasant summer morning. I don’t need much more than this; it’s enough. I glance at the time and think briefly of work. It’s not yet time…soon though. Another day, another beginning, another opportunity to be the human being I most want to be.

… Another chance to begin again.

Yesterday was a good day, pretty much from the time I woke until I went to bed. I enjoyed the day, my work, and the companionship of my Traveling Partner. I sit with the recollection of my experience for a few moments, at the halfway point of my morning walk.

Today starts well, though I woke with a headache after a difficult night. My sleep was interrupted by my Traveling Partner’s restlessness. I had no difficulty returning to sleep, but I woke often, and when the night finally gave way to a new day, I woke feeling groggy and stupid. S’ok. It’s fine. I’m fine.

I stepped through my morning routine in much the same dogged persistent fashion as I later stepped down the trail; one foot after the other. It’s a practice. A process. If I just keep at it, eventually I get somewhere. In a few minutes, my steps will take me back up the trail to the truck (I offered the Anxious Adventurer the use of my car for work on these hottest days, since his has no AC), and then on to work. I yawn and rub my eyes. I still don’t feel quite awake yet, in spite of the sunshine making my eyes water when I carelessly look too closely at it.

… Sometimes persistence is more useful than enthusiasm…

I sigh to myself. I glance at the time, and count the days until my coastal getaway…12 days… I watch the shadows shift as the sun rises. Pretty morning… I guess I will get on with the day. Feels like a good time to begin again.

Another summer morning, another opportunity to be the person I most want to be.

Human primates are peculiar. I got so thoroughly involved in my delightful morning, yesterday, I completely forgot about my physical therapy appointment, which was planned to be my next stop after my walk. Instead, I went home and began enjoying my lovely morning further, with my Traveling Partner and the Anxious Adventurer. lol Costly mistake; the clinic phoned me to ask if I was “on my way”… Nope. Miles away, content at home. The caller politely reminded me I would be charged for the missed appointment. I replied that I understood and moved on with the delightful day, and spent it in relatively little pain.

It was a very pleasant and thoroughly relaxing morning. I enjoyed it. I spent much of the day exploring my new pastels, and reading, and some little bit on grocery shopping and helping my partner with this and that. I got some of the rest I have needed so badly.

Today there is laundry to do and errands to run, and housekeeping, but having some help is already significantly lightening the load and I face the day with real joy and enthusiasm. I sigh contentedly, sitting here by the side of the trail, at an”halfway point” I like that has a comfortable spot to sit down for a few minutes. The sunshine is warm on my back. The morning is mild and not yet hot, (but I can feel that it will get there again today). It’s summer, sure, but I can easily remember summers being cooler in this part of the Pacific Northwest than they tend to be now. I frown for a moment thinking about how thoroughly we’ve fucked up this planet. We could do better. It may be too late…

A beautiful morning in a beautiful place.

I think over my list of things to do and add some small tasks that make big differences. I’ve got more to offer, today, and I feel rested and strong. Funny how much difference the thought of having help makes. I don’t feel the need to plan ahead for exhaustion at the end of the day.

I sit awhile with my thoughts, watching the light through the trees change as the sun rises. I watch and wonder how I would capture the qualities of light and the various hues of green with my pastels. I feel content and centered. I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s a good beginning for a new day.