Archives for category: inspiration

Nice morning for walking. The sunrise was a bit hazy in the distance, but the air is still cool and mild. The heat expected this week will probably develop later in the morning. I walked along this favorite local trail, planning to do the entire loop, as I did yesterday, but I got to my “halfway point” and took a seat to rest, reflect, and write…as much because my knee is hurting as anything else. I’ll go back the way I came and settle for the shorter distance. Seems wise.

Summer sunrise.

It’s Independence Day here in the U.S… For me, this day represents more than an element of national identity. I have literally become independent of some difficult experiences on this day. I left my violent first husband on a July 4th. I finished basic training on July 4th. I finished my military service just a few days after a July 4th. My Traveling Partner and I moved into a home of our own on July 4th, too. Just seems like a lot of (my) summer milestones happen on or around July 4th. I’ve gained or regained my independence from something many times… totally worth celebrating. I’m not sure firing off various sorts of colorful ordnance is properly the way to celebrate one’s independence, but it’s an American holiday, so… maybe? lol

Are you feeling trapped? How will you gain your independence? How will you regain your freedom? You have so many choices…

My knee aches. My head aches. My back aches. I’m tired this morning after a night of weird dreams of fighting for my freedom and arguing for my personhood. My tinnitus is ridiculously loud in my ears. I’m not listing my aches and pains for any particular reason, just being aware of them and the way they can potentially encroach upon my quality of life, this morning. I’d love to be independent of these experiences!

…I could use a good cup of coffee…

I sigh out loud, feeling myself relax with my exhalation. Breathe, exhale, and relax. Repeat. Again. I sit awhile with my thoughts. This moment feels so free and easy, in spite of pain. In a few minutes I’ll resume walking, head back to the car, and return home to share the day with my Traveling Partner and the Anxious Adventurer.

… Maybe I will finally find a moment for those new pastels…

Freedom comes in many forms, but rarely happens by chance. How will you free yourself from the things holding you back? Where does your path lead? We become what we practice. What are you practicing? Are you the person you most want to be?

It’s a good time to begin again.

Sometimes change is hard. Sometimes change arrives rather quickly, and instead of evolving gradually over time, it pulls up out front in a moving van and unpacks over a weekend. 😂

…We managed to get most of the necessary move-in basics handled and the truck returned on time…

Getting the Anxious Adventurer moved in was the priority for the weekend, other than caring for my Traveling Partner, who was effective and handy, supporting various tasks with thoughtful guidance. The whole chaotic endeavor was considerably improved by how we each embraced the circumstances (no doubt each for our own reasons). We’re all in it together and it was obvious.

I’m definitely feeling the strain of the aggressive pace of the weekend’s activity in sore muscles and lingering fatigue. “A new normal” begins with this quiet, pleasant Monday morning. I’ll work from home with much more freedom to focus on work with my Traveling Partner’s son now available to help out, too. Hell, I might have enough left in me at the end of the day to cook a proper meal! There’s more to do, but now it can be handled within the context of the day-to-day living of life, which feels pretty good. I even got to spend some time reading last night!

There’s more to do. The work of adjusting to the changes required is not yet completed. There are boxes to go into storage. Things to change or “fix” about how the household is set up, to be better suited to three people, where there had been only two, before. The living room, though, is no longer filled with the contents of a moving van, and no one is sleeping on the floor. Progress. Today will be my first day working from my completely rearranged office-studio-creative space, which still needs a bit more fine-tuning. I chuckle to myself, still amused and astonished that I managed to move a full-sized couch into such a small room (with the help of the Anxious Adventurer and the guidance of my Traveling Partner giving instructions from down the hall). Funnier still, it manages to be more “cozy” than crowded. It will force me to be quite mindful of the space and keep it very neat, though; there is no room to tolerate clutter. Not one spare square inch of space is left for being careless or messy.

I while away a few minutes thinking about change and wondering when my Traveling Partner’s surgery will be? Scheduling that should happen today. Once we’ve got the date settled, I’ll also schedule some away-time for myself, for a date maybe a couple weeks after the surgery. Damn, it’s good to have the help of the Anxious Adventurer! I feel incredibly grateful and very fortunate. I finally have the emotional “room” to breathe and reflect and consider and exist outside the constraints of holding myself constantly at the ready to handle any/every task, every moment, all of every day… That was a lot of pressure, but I didn’t know how else to handle things.

… I’m so tired…

It’s a new day. A new opportunity to begin again. There’s more to do (nearly always is), but life has “less weight to it” somehow and I feel pretty good, generally. I woke at my usual early time, and I’ve had the trail to myself this morning. I watched the sun rise as I walked, and these quiet minutes to write and reflect don’t feel snatched from the limited time available for everything else that needs doing. It’s nice.

I don’t yet know what the new normal looks like, but I’m on this path and I’ll know soon enough. I stretch and yawn and smile. It’s time to begin again.

Pretty morning. Splendid sunrise. I slept well, and with no regrets I slept without my sleep tracker on my wrist. Did that change the quality of my sleep? Maybe. Maybe not. But… Maybe.

The first sunrise of summer.

Without regard to sleep quality, I’d be giving up the sleep tracker anyway; my wearable is no longer supported by the manufacturer, and the new phone I’ve just moved into isn’t the same brand and “doesn’t play nicely” with my old wearable. Totally fine, I think I am effectively done with trying to capture all that biometric data. It was initially useful and sometimes eye-opening, but that hasn’t been the case for a while, and the device itself just tethers me to my phone, and pings me fucking constantly. Over it.

Father’s Day got my Traveling Partner and I talking about watches, time, and time pieces, after I gifted him a modest field watch for everyday wear.

Practical and basic.

I guess I’ve missed wearing a watch. 😆 I gave that up years ago, before I ever began wearing a connected device, (because I had such an unhealthy and stressful relationship with time). That was so very long ago that it’s just not a thing anymore, even to the slightest degree. I don’t have panic attacks over being a couple minutes late. I don’t freak out if someone else creates conditions that throw carefully timed plans into chaos. (Hell, I rarely make “carefully timed plans” with the sort of inflexible precision that they could so easily be wrecked by timing, at all.)

So… I’m contentedly re-embracing wearing a watch. It’s not as if that’s super necessary, either. My phone is almost always very nearby, and I can easily check the time. I like the look of a watch. Elegant or practical. Fancy or plain. There’s something amazing about a watch. Such a finely crafted tiny piece of machinery capable of so much precision! Impressive among human achievements in the way bound books, libraries, and printing presses are impressive. These things are among our best human achievements.

Fancy and fun.

I have a lovely fun watch my Traveling Partner gifted me. It’s pretty, and a bit fancy for everyday. I enjoy wearing it (even more lately), but it isn’t quite the right choice for everyday wear. We’ve spent fun hours this week talking about watches and casually shopping together for watches we might like to own, and getting to know this facet of each other’s personal style. Selecting a watch is every bit as intimate as lingerie. It’s been an extraordinary way to connect and be close. Fun.

… The clock is always ticking…

I sit with happy thoughts, early on a Friday morning. The Solstice was yesterday. Ordinary enough day. I worked.  It was quite a hot day for the first day of summer. Fitting. Today is likely to be similarly hot. I’m okay with it – and grateful to have AC.

I sit thinking about time, and watches, and watching time. In some upcoming future moment, I will begin again… in the meantime, it’s enough to be here, now. Watching the sun rise on a summer morning, unconcerned about the time.

I’m sitting on this rock, alongside the trail. It’s a Wednesday, but I’m off work, which is a nice change. I’m more or less “moved in to” my new phone, but as is often the case with such things (for me), there’s still a lot to do and quite a few small differences to learn. I’m okay with the process and I have my Traveling Partner’s help, and he’s very familiar with this operating system. I like the new phone better than the old one.

… The novelty is probably good for my brain, too…

Yesterday, just about as my energy was running out, my partner asked me gently and encouragingly “what are you going to do to take care of yourself, though?”. It was a good question. My answer was that I’d have a shower and maybe move into the new phone. Pretty low standard for self-care. lol

That question is bigger than one evening, isn’t it? With my partner being injured, I tend to run myself ragged taking care of him, the household, the day-to-day errands, and bringing in a paycheck (and health insurance) and there’s often very little left in a day “for me”. I’m not even bitching, just aware that I am pushing myself hard.  I have these quiet mornings (and I am grateful), but I reliably fail to be as attentive to my needs as a human being as I am to the many other things I’ve got going on, that often seem more urgent, in the moment. So few hours in a day, and the clock is always ticking. I do need to figure this out.

A wildflower on the trail. A picture with a new camera.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I glance at my poor hands; they are a mess of small wounds from unnoticed near-constant picking and tearing at my cuticles. Pure stress. It’s very telling. Just weeks ago my hands were fine, and even well-manicured. My self-care is slipping. Human.

I take time for meditation, sitting here in the morning sunshine, at the halfway point on this walk. I carefully refrain from chewing on my fingers. It takes an act of will to remain mindful and aware. It’s a practice worth practicing. I definitely need the practice.

Another breath. Another moment. I know it is important to be kind to myself, and to take care of this fragile vessel. It also takes practice, and time I often don’t feel I have. It’s complicated. I can only do so much. It’s important to choose wisely. Artistic work is one way I take care of myself. I’m eager to make time for the new pastels.

… I’m feeling eager and inspired, and also a tiny bit hesitant; change is complicated…

… For now, it’s enough to sit in the sunshine on a familiar trail, feeling the soft Spring breeze tickle my skin, and smelling the scent of flowers. Soon enough it will be time to begin again.

I’m sipping coffee and taking a moment after my morning walk. I’ll head to work, next, but this quiet interlude is mine. I’m sitting quietly, looking out into the view beyond and contemplating how I might capture this view in acrylic, in watercolor, in oil, or in a wholly new medium for me – in pastels.

Light and shadow, and an ordinary view.

I am content to sit here with my thoughts, even for hours. This is a pleasant moment.

I’ve tidied up my studio such that I can actually make use of it. Along the way I found an old cigar box with an unexpected treasure within – two small sets of pastels, an assortment of neon colors and an assortment of iridescent colors, looking very much unused since whenever they were purchased. I don’t recall buying them. The shoebox itself is one that one of my parents had used to send me something… sometime around 1995? Older? Old, for sure.

A fun surprise.

I continue to feel inspired by the thought of exploring a new medium, artistically. I picked up a selection of good quality pastels at the local art store, and some appropriate paper, and ordered some woodless colored pencils and pastel pencils. A small price to pay for the joy and growth yet to come.

Colors. Joy in a box.

For a moment, I feel impatient to begin, then chuckle at my human foolishness, because I have already begun! This moment, right here, now, is part of the experience. I smile and breathe it in. Inspiration. Joy. Enthusiasm. Eagerness. Delight. Wonder. It’s quite delicious and I am grateful to enjoy this moment.

I take time to really savor this pleasant moment, and to really “fill my cup” with this quiet joy.

The sun continues to rise. The clock continues to tick. It’s already time to begin again. I’m ready.