Archives for category: inspiration
« Older Entries
Newer Entries »

Reflections

March 17, 2024 //
0

I’m relaxing after my morning walk on a nearer more local trail. I slept in this morning, and slipped out of the house after daybreak, leaving my Traveling Partner to sleep awhile longer. I’ve got a plan to make waffles later, and for now these quiet moments of morning watching the sunrise become a new day are mine to enjoy alone.

A new day, a new beginning.

I am sitting on one of the picnic tables that sit along this stretch of the trail, watching small birds and reflecting on past and current commitments to myself, and my successes and failures over the years. I consider progress I’ve made over time, and how different “a good life” looks to me at 60, compared to 14, 23, 30, or 45… My thinking and my understanding of what I want in life has changed quite a lot over time. Certainly, at 14 I had no idea how much pure effort is involved in “living well”, let alone how I would come to define that after I had experienced some living.

I still find myself yearning for “easy”, far more than I ever yearn(ed) for recognition or fortune, and it amuses and humbles me to finally find myself having to acknowledge that, like a lot of life’s sweet treats, “ease” is best taken in moderation. The more of it I have, the more often I indulge, the more likely I may also find myself struggling later on to maintain my wellness or health in some other area of life. There’s a balance to be struck.

I sit feeling the effects of physical exertion. Feeling the rising sun on my face. Breathing the cool morning air. A small bird stops on the table, very near to me. I hold quite still to avoid startling her into flight. She looks me over and picks at unseen crumbs while I wonder how hard birds must work just to survive. I think I must have it relatively easy, by comparison. Useful perspective.

I’ve been working towards increasing the amount of effort I put in day-to-day, without exhausting myself or breaking down this fragile vessel. This isn’t new; I’ve “been here before”. I’m hoping to improve my fitness and my wellness, generally. I’d like to be around a good long time more… In spite of the chaos of the world, my own wee slice of suburban paradise is rather nice, and I enjoy life and love and time spent with my Traveling Partner and my friends. I’m not interested in “going out with a bang”, nor do I want to quietly fade away. I want most to live well, and live simply, and enjoy the life I live for all the days I can. Recent reminders that we are mortal creatures are less depressing than they are simply a reminder that the clock is always ticking.

… I wonder what the future holds, as I take off my hiking boots and put my sneakers back on. I think about the garden and wonder if I would do well to pick up a watering can for watering the seedlings in the veggie bed. These questions strangely seem to have similar significance and magnitude for me on this relaxed Sunday morning. I suppress a laugh and the little bird flies away.

… I remember that I’ve planned to drain and clean and refill the hot tub today and wonder if I actually will… Have I got it in me? Should I give myself a break and do it next weekend?

I take a breath and exhale with a sigh and a smile, and prepare to walk back to the car, wondering if I have everything I need to make waffles…? I know I have what I need to find satisfaction, joy, and contentment in my life. There are verbs involved…

… And it’s time to begin again.

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, turning 60, weight loss secrets

How the Sausage is Made

March 16, 2024 //
0

It’s still dark here at the trailhead where I am waiting for daybreak. It’s a pleasantly mild morning and expected to be a warm sunny day. I’d hoped to sleep in, but woke at my usual early hour, and did my best to slip away quietly so my Traveling Partner could get the rest he needs, too. So here I am, thinking about life and waiting for the sun.

I watched an excellent perspective piece on YouTube last night with my Traveling Partner, discussing what makes a “good life”, and what a life well-lived consists of, generally. That’s an utterly inadequate summary. It sort of describes “how the sausage is made” with regard to all the media crap we cram into our brains that tell us we could or should do more or live differently. You could just watch it. I found it a worthwhile way to spend 11 minutes. Inspiring in a wholesome way. I don’t think I could have said it better.

Daybreak comes. Mt Hood is backlit by a broad strip of a relatively bold orange. It’s a lovely morning to be on the trail early, alone with my thoughts. Time to wrap this up and get going…

Is this a “boring” life because I don’t travel to exotic destinations or do amazing adventurous things? No. It’s a quiet life built on contentment and sufficiency, doing things I truly enjoy, and spending time with people I have real fondness for. It’s not only not boring, it’s very much the life I have been working towards for so long. 🙂

… And it’s time to hit the trail and begin again.

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being

Clear Blue Sky

March 14, 2024 //
0

I’m sipping on the very last of my morning coffee. It’s past noon. It was an iced coffee, though, so it’s still quite nice (if you like coffee). I’m taking a break, pausing my mind and giving myself a real rest for a couple minutes, before moving on to the next busy moment. The sky beyond the window is a brilliant clear blue, something between a “robin’s egg” and a cerulean hue. The sunshine reflects off the residential tower across the park and dazzles me. I consider drawing down the shade a bit to reduce the glare… but… later. For now, I’m enjoying the beautiful blue of the sky.

El Gato – my cat neighbor.

I sip my coffee and think about my garden. The neighbor’s cat started shitting in my damned garden again – ah, yes, signs of Spring! lol Yeah, for now I’m still laughing. El Gato (my nickname for him) is a cranky old half-feral tomcat much-loved by neighborhood children, and fed by my next-door neighbor. He’s not all that friendly, and very particular about any adult attempting to get too near, but he tolerates the kids pretty well. Unfortunately, kids at play are not reliable garden guardians, and given the opportunity, El Gato finds the soft freshly prepared vegetable garden beds quite nice for certain bodily functions I very definitely do not want being handled there. It’s annoying. I’m still laughing, for now, having once been fond of a cat of my own, and having a certain residual appreciation for the monstrous wee wicked carnivores. He’s just being a cat. Still… I can’t be having that nonsense in my food garden, so I sit thinking about my solutions. Once the garden grows in somewhat, he leaves it alone… in the meantime, his dastardly deeds limit how well my garden can grow, so steps must be taken! He’s already wrecked 1 square foot of planted veggies (carrots and radishes), and after I dig out the cat shit, all that has to be replanted. Fucker. For a moment I stop laughing…

…Just the other day I had the passing thought that it might be nice to have a cat around. I am not thinking so now…

Presently, I’m trying to recall whether I still have a bit of that portion of a roll of garden wire-fence material that I used to make the pea trellis last year. If I do, I am planning to resolve my difficulties with El Gato by making it unreasonably difficult for him to step on, or dig in, the garden at all. Problem solved. I do wish the little fucker were litterbox trained. That’d be nice. I guess it’s not a realistic expectation of a feral cat, though.

The deer visit regularly.

I’m reminded of my other garden visitation challenge; the deer love my roses (and some of the herbs, and tops of many of the bulbs)… perhaps another day I will do something about that. I may have to cage one of the roses such that they can’t get to it at all, just to give it a chance to survive. It’s the way of things, eh? There’s just this one planet, we share it creatures who live quite differently than we do, and we don’t share a common language, making boundary-setting conversations rather difficult. I’m not a fan of cruelty… so… there’s a bit of thought and effort involved in communicating boundaries with my four-legged neighbors. Good thing this garden is an endeavor I truly love. 😀 No stress, very little frustration, and tons of laughing, and time spent in the sunshine. That all sounds pretty good, actually. I certainly love the video footage of the deer in my garden, captured by the security camera. I get a lot of (s)mileage out of that. 😀 (I’d still rather they not eat my roses down to the bare canes!)

So… it’s almost here. Spring. My head is filled with roses and flowers and sunny mornings and afternoons in the garden. As my Traveling Partner continues to recover from his injury, and in spite of how lush and beautiful the lawn is, I’m thinking more and more of a second veggie bed, or a bench to sit under the redbud listening to the bees buzz and watching the grass grow. All in due time, I suppose. In the meantime, I’ll enjoy the soft feel of the lush lawn under my feet.

…That blue sky, though, so beautiful…

Ah well. Coffee gone. Break time is over. It’s time to begin again. 😀

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, meditation, Moments, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, Roses, Spring

Love & Memory

March 12, 2024 //
0

I had a restless night of interrupted sleep. No bad dreams, just periodically waking up for no obvious reason, before settling into sleep once again. It wasn’t unpleasant, but the night seemed unreasonably long and I got up well ahead of my usual time, dressed, and left for work early. The commute was effortless, because at that hour there was no traffic on the road. Now, I’m sitting at my desk, looking out at the dark pre-dawn cityscape, sipping my coffee. It’s a Tuesday, and my calendar is pretty full, but all that begins quite a bit later, and I have some time to sit with my thoughts.

A cherished handmade gift from a dear friend.

Last night as I was tidying up a quiet room that is mostly decorated with books, I found this small handmade paper journal sort of just set aside, waiting for some moment. It was a gift from my recently deceased dear friend, celebrating my 60th birthday. It was intended to accompany me on a camping trip with my Traveling Partner, and as I recall now, I elected to keep it safe from harm by not taking it out into the wilds where dirt, wind, or rain might wreck it, knowing I’d find some similarly meaningful use for it some other time and place.

It even came with instructions. 😀

I sat for a moment with this cherished gift in my hands, gently unfolding the letter that is still tucked into a pocket inside the cover. I reread the letter, my heart filled with love and fond memories, a soft sad smile on my face. I miss my friend, but how delightful to have this memento of our friendship to remember her by!

Each page decorated by hand, each page unique, bringing to mind the illuminated manuscripts of another age.

I turn the pages, one by one, each one different, each one ready for some thought, or poem, or random handful of words to be written there. I felt so inspired, just to hold it in my hands! I examined each page, reconnecting with so many memories of the friendship we had shared. I delighted in the recollection of her enthusiasm for small handmade gifts, and how extraordinary and special each such gift to me remains to this day. I smiled thinking about her best friend bringing a similar cherished gift to the hospital while I was there visiting, to share that precious memory. What a beautiful human being my dear friend was! She was – is – so well loved by those who knew her. Missed.

“Friendship is a gift that lasts.” – It is indeed.

I turn to a page with a pocket from which a string dangles, and a note attached to the pocket reads “Pull the white string up”, and so I do – and as if speaking to me from “the beyond”, a tag appears that reads “friendship is a gift that lasts”. My eyes fill with tears that don’t fall, and the smile on my face becomes a bit brittle, a little fragile, with this reminder that I was also dear to my dear friend. I feel loved. I feel grateful to have shared this amazing friendship. My smile deepens as I sit with my memories for a moment. I’m okay. Grief is a process, and there is no escaping it; “the way out is through”. Fucking hell, what a first rate friend she truly was.

The last page. A bookmark. A reminder.

I turn page after page of this small handmade journal, and imagine writing in it, at long last. What would I write in such a precious space? What words fit in this slim fragile volume? I imagine for a moment that whatever I wrote here might be something she could read, from wherever her spirit rests. Fanciful, but comforting. The bookmark tucked into the pocket on the last page says only, in large letters, “Roses”. I smile and think about the roses I recently purchased to add to the garden with her – and the memories of our friendship – in mind. I allow myself the fancy of imagining she somehow knew. (Certainly, she knew I love roses.)

What a beautiful little moment! It lingers with me now, and I woke this morning to see the wee journal resting on a cushion, next to my neatly folded clothes, waiting for the new day. Where will this journey take me? What is ahead on this path? I sip my coffee and think happy thoughts of trails to hike, and roses to plant, and long summer days in the garden. I think about the wee journal, and my dear friend, and what words might fill these pages.

My mind wanders to other cherished friendships. I could be a better friend; I make a commitment to reach out to friends I haven’t spoken to recently. I think fondly of my Traveling Partner – our deeply loving relationship is also built on a firm foundation of a cherished friendship. We were friends long before we were ever lovers. I’m grateful for that friendship, it has carried us through some tough times with considerable affection and grace. Whatever else goes on in life, friends are such a huge part of life being worth living in the first place. I sip my coffee and think about how fortunate I am to have the rich friendships I do. The value isn’t in numbers of friends, either, it’s in the quality of enduring friendships, and the love and laughter they bring to this very human experience, that can sometimes feel so lonely otherwise.

I look up as I finish my coffee. The morning sky is hues of blue and shades of gray where clouds crowd the horizon. Daybreak has passed. Sunrise is moments away, although I doubt it will be anything exceptional to see, this morning. Regardless, here it is a new day – and already time to begin again.

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Allegories, art and the artist, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, grief, Healthy Living, inspiration, loneliness, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, Roses, Sleepless Nights, Spring, The Art of Being, The Big 5

Dumb Mindfulness Exercises

March 11, 2024 //
0

I’m sitting here with a cup of tea and a terrible headache. The headache is no surprise; it’s the Monday after Daylight Savings Time began this year, and that rather abrupt change to the timing on all my medication reliably results in a headache, and some crankiness. I guess I’m fortunate that it isn’t worse.

I found myself needing a break. A “proper break”, though, really stepping back from “this” and giving myself room to reconnect with myself here/now. I brought a fat juicy “Sumo” tangerine to work with my lunch today, and it seemed like a good time to enjoy that…

…I tore off the “top knot” of the tangerine and the smell of it filled my senses. I thought immediately of some of the odd-seeming mindfulness exercises sometimes taught to students or CBT patients just learning mindfulness practices. You probably know the ones… “eat a raisin”… “eat an orange”… These departures from the mindless consumption we often tend towards are intended to “wake us up” to the real depth of some very commonplace ordinary experiences and create an opportunity to experience them more fully, in a more present and engaged way. They can still seem pretty silly, or awkward, or fake, especially the first time, or in the company of strangers.

…Embracing authenticity is sometimes a matter of letting go of our own self-consciousness or embarrassment, or concern about what someone else’s idea of “normal” looks like…

I sit here with this big fragrant tangerine quite happily. I love the scent of it. The heft of the large asymmetrical fruit feels very satisfying in my hand. The bumpy rough skin tempts me further, and I begin to peel it, smelling the freshness of still more citrus-y tangerine-y scent filling the air around my desk. The skin makes a sort of quiet ripping sound as it pulls away from the juicy flesh of the fruit it has been protecting. The bitter white pith pulls away easily, without a sound. The inside of the peel feels vaguely damp and very soft. Minutes have gone by in the time it has taken to peel this one fruit, and even though I haven’t even tasted it yet, my mood has already lifted quite a lot.

…Does it matter if something seems silly, if it works for you?…

I slowly separate one slice, one “segment” I guess it is, of the tangerine from the rest, breaking the fruit into halves as I do. Like a kid, I carefully peel off the thin skin that separates the slice from the others, and which holds the section intact as an individual piece. I admire the deep orange color of the fruit, and wonder how many of the tiny orange tear-drop shaped inner bits there really are in each section, before I bite into it and taste the sweet tang of the tangerine, at last. Somehow, tangerines manage to taste like Christmas and summertime both at the same time. Simultaneously exotic and ordinary, fancy and everyday, for a moment I think perhaps these are my favorite fruit – before I laugh to myself, aware that I probably feel that way the first moment I bite into almost any fully ripe fruit. One by one, I bite into the slices of tangerine, tasting each one anew, going slowly enough to really appreciate the taste and texture, and really enjoy the experience. Here’s the thing about this as a mindfulness practice; it’s not about going so slow that the slowness becomes the experience, it’s simply about going slowly enough to have an experience in the first place. This is a huge tangerine – certainly big enough to be at least two whole servings of fruit – so shouldn’t there be some time consumed along with the fruit? If I’m sucking this tangerine down almost whole in mere seconds, have I even had an opportunity to actually enjoy it beyond the first sweet brief bite?

I sit smiling, eating my tangerine, taking my break. Minutes go by. Enough time for two streetcars to pass by on the street below. Long enough for a soft rain to begin, spattering the windows and changing the quality of the light. I feel present and real, instead of a bit distracted and harried. I feel relaxed, and also energized (doesn’t hurt that this tangerine is juicy and sweet and nutritious). Sure, I’ve still got a headache, and it’s still the day after the start of DST, but I feel pretty good, and here. Present. I break the last slice of this tangerine in half and eat it in two delightful bites.

I’m ready to begin again.

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Spring, The Art of Being, weight loss secrets
« Older Entries
Newer Entries »