I slept late this morning. No walk. I was up during the night, unwell (I’ll spare you the gross human details). Still, I’m awake now, and feeling pretty merry, in spite of being so recently awake that I’m still rubbing my eyes and sorting myself out. My coffee is still too hot to drink.
Banana bread in spite of pain.
Yesterday was a difficult day. I was just in so much pain doing basic things to help care for my Traveling Partner while he recovers from being injured was at the edge of what I could do at all. I rarely “feel my years” – but yesterday I felt ancient and worn. I managed to do laundry, though (and got his folded and put away where he could more easily get it, and he just couldn’t have done that for himself), and I did dishes (seems like there are always dishes to do in a household where anyone cooks). I even baked a very delicious banana bread. It was a well-spent day in my partner’s good company, generally speaking, though I was in enough pain to need to take frequent breaks from literally everything, including his company, in order to give my back or my neck a rest of the effort of … being upright. For fucks’ sake, how is that okay?? Fuck pain.
Enjoying a chill holiday is okay too.
Today is Giftmas Eve. Sure, I’m in some pain this morning, but it’s not like yesterday. Yes, I was up for an hour during the night being quite ill, but I feel like I’m over it now – and I slept quite late, and woke feeling rested. It’s nice. I may make a quick trip to the grocery store for some things I am missing from the pantry, before the day gets too far along, but the plan is to just enjoy the holiday at home with my Traveling Partner. Videos. Working on my model. Sharing each other’s good company. Dinner later, also here at home. Nothing super fancy this year, maybe stir fry, or Salisbury steak. I’m enjoying the relaxed approach to the holiday.
For now, coffee & meditation. Later, I’ll work on my Tachikoma model, and maybe bake something? Bread? I don’t know… I feel inspired to make something to share with my Traveling Partner, somehow. I could fold and put away my own damned laundry… that doesn’t sound like much fun, but I’ll be pleased to see the task completed, I know. This year I just want to enjoy my partner’s company, and share a few moments of merriment and maybe a hot-buttered rum, in the evening. All of that later… first, some quiet coffee-sipping, and thought-thinking. 😀
Well hey! It’s a new day. First day of Winter, just days before the big Giftmas celebrations, and a bit more than a week before the almost-global celebration of the New Year. Funny how significant we make turning over the page of a calendar from one year to the next. We all like a new beginning, eh? Maybe we all really need a fresh start? It’s been a difficult year, what with nations at war with each other, and genocides in progress, and women all over the world still being treated as somehow less than their male associates and family members. Yeesh. You’d think we had been around long enough as a species to get past that bullshit… (which bullshit, exactly? All of it? Yeah, “all of it” sounds about right.)
The first day of Winter from one point of view.
So, here I sit, on this “first day” experience – the first day of Winter. A new year of its own sort. An opportunity to begin again, to start fresh, to reset… What will I do with it? What will you do with it? This year, I missed doing my ritual planting of seeds for the first time in many many years. I was just in too much pain to do much besides hang out with my Traveling Partner, read a bit, play some rather engaging-but-not-challenging video games, and work a little bit on the model I’m building. My body thanked me for that rest, this morning; I woke from a decently restful sleep feeling pretty okay. It’s Winter, though, and pain just comes with the weather. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I still feel pretty merry, and I’m eager to wrap up this last work day before I go home for the holiday weekend.
Home for the holiday.
…Yes, I made the drive into the city to work from the office. I didn’t (and don’t) have to, I just enjoy the quiet time and the opportunity to let my Traveling Partner sleep without being disturbed by the lively tap-a-tap-a-tap of my fingers racing over the keyboard first thing in the morning. This morning, I even enjoyed the drive. There was almost no traffic at all.
I chuckle when I read news articles about how businesses are moving away from remote or hybrid work models; the traffic patterns call the authors liars. While there are surely some industries for which remote work just can’t work (or can’t work easily, or isn’t of legitimate value), it’s quite clear that wherever remote work or hybrid work can and does work, the American workforce has embraced it aggressively, and businesses have in many cases simply had to capitulate, and in a lot of cases have actually embraced it. When I read articles seeking to convince me otherwise, I look for the hidden agenda buried in the article; these often seem to be slyly about trying to convince folks to return to the office (RTO) because some companies own so much brick-and-mortar real estate that is painfully costly to hold onto that they pretty urgently want to make use of it. Other articles seem to be more about the admittedly difficult outcome to many downtown areas; the loss of forced-to-the-office workers from those urban areas does impact the flow of cash to small businesses that rely on those workers (who have no reason to shop or eat at those businesses since they are not forced to be in those downtown areas if they work remotely). Funny… that’s capitalism in action, but those business owners don’t seem to want to support that in this instance. Thought-provoking. Could it be that capitalism isn’t the perfect system it’s proponents would like us to think it is? Just saying… maybe stop communicating via “-isms”, and start looking for solutions that are not pinned to your pet ideology. 😉
…Weird tangent, sorry, my politics are showing…
On the commute this morning I hit almost all the traffic lights green, a rare fun treat, and made the drive feeling more relaxed than I’ve been in days, because my Traveling Partner is really beginning to recover from his recent injury in obvious ways. That’s a lot less stress for me; I was worried and feeling pretty helpless to do much to help him heal, other than more housekeeping. I didn’t really manage that, either – I just made different choices, and let different shit go for the time being. The reckoning is coming! LOL There’s quite a bit to catch up on. (I know what I’m doing tomorrow… unpacking from my damned coastal getaway!! Laundry! LOL)
The thing about new beginnings, generally, is that they are mostly a matter of perspective and choices. Ending a thing, as if inserting a “page break” into the experience, and beginning something new – even if it’s the same something, can serve to recommit and regain a feeling of purpose. “I’ll stop doing this, start doing that” has real value – and I can practice this every single day if I care to, or even moment by moment when life is filled with chaos and maddening frustrations. A single deep, cleansing breath, and a moment to clear my mind, maybe make a list, think things over, and to then choose the next step with care and consideration… sometimes it feels more difficult than the words to describe it, but that feeling of difficultly can be translated to “importance” or significance, if I choose to, giving the practice still more value. It’s a way of building momentum and marking progress.
A steady rain begins to fall. The drive in had been misty and foggy, but not rainy. Looks like the day ahead will be a rainy one, though – which tends to explain why I’m in so fucking much pain. Rain, and the weather changing from anything else to rainy, tend to exacerbate my arthritis. Is what it is. I deal with it best I can, and fumble for my wee pillbox; I am prepared… and it’s already time to begin again. 😀
Happy holiday, if you’re celebrating the change of the season. The shortest day. The longest night. The arrival of Winter. This is a season of change. A season… of sorrow. I wish you well. Truly, I wish all the world well. I hope for peace.
Dawn of the shortest day, gray, chilly, and misty.
I got a walk in, down damp trails in chilly weather, feeling the chill in my bones as I walked through the mist along the marsh. Winter is here.
When I was young, and living in a very different location, I was often puzzled by the Solstice being “in the middle of” Winter, instead of at the start. It reliably felt like “mid-Winter” to me, in much the same way that the Summer Solstice felt like “mid-Summer”. Here, the climate (these days) feels more aligned to the equinoxes and solstices; each starting the change of season. The hottest days of Summer are long after the Solstice. The coldest days of Winter follow the Solstice. The Vernal Equinox is “too soon” for Spring camping. The Autumnal Equinox finds the forests still cloaked in green, with the colors of Autumn weeks away. I don’t know why that matters, perhaps it doesn’t. I’m just thinking about it.
Today I’ll mark the day with a favorite ritual; I’ll plant the seeds of the future, metaphorically and literally. I’ve some carefully selected rosehips that I’ll put into the earth along the back of the property. Maybe some will take hold? That’s the idea. I’ve got some other seeds chosen, things that would not suffer for being in the ground through the cold winter weeks ahead, and may spring to life in the earliest days of Spring, bringing the promise of new life. Hope. Growth. Change. I do this every year. It’s just a thing I do. I think back to walking country roads with my Granny, or pathways in gardens, plucking choice rosehips together, to plant here or there some other time. I do miss her greatly. I remember her teaching me all the herbs in her garden, one by one. “Crush this in your hands, Sweetie, doesn’t that smell good? How does it make you feel?” She would tell me their names, and what they might be used for. Cooking herbs. Tea herbs. Medicinal herbs. Where they came from. How to care for them.
I listen to a piece of music that “feels right” today for some reason. I try not to overthink it. It’s just been sticking with me. It seems a clear reminder not to waste the limited time we’ve got. I promise you, it is limited.
My Traveling Partner seems to be on the mend. I continue to do my best to “pick up the slack” around the house. It’s a less than perfect effort: there are a handful of dishes in the sink, and I still have not unpacked since I returned from the coast (two weeks ago??). Maybe I’ll get to that, too. Today is just one day, but much can be accomplished in a day – even the very shortest one.
This morning I took a walk in the cold of the frosty morning, just as daybreak arrived. No pictures. Just walking with my thoughts, and taking care that I didn’t slip on an icy surface along the way. Now I’m home, sipping coffee, sitting here with my thoughts. Same thoughts? Same thoughts. I am thinking about good and evil, right and wrong, and the excuses we make. I’m thinking about the inexcusable horror of war and how terrible and pointless it is. I’m thinking about inspiration, and things I’ve seen that I’d like to put on canvas. I keep the sound turned down low on the playlist I’m listening to, in case my Traveling Partner calls out from the other room to get my help with anything, while he recovers from an injury.
…There’s a bit of grocery shopping to plan, an errand to run, and I’m overdue to finally unpack from my trip to the coast (which now seems so long ago). There are dishes to do. Meals to plan. Laundry to wash, fold, and put away. Life. Adulthood. Taking care of things that take care of me. Sometimes it seems pretty fucking endless, ridiculously repetitive and without any lasting outcome of value. Processes and practices work that way, I suppose. I take a breath, feeling my fingers dance across the keyboard as my thoughts flow across my awareness and on past. I exhale, still finding contentment in these simple things. It’s enough, generally…
I saw a gorgeous sunrise while I was on the coast, and it’s the sort of sight that fills my thoughts for days and lingers in my recollections. Such sunrises are the stuff of inspiration, for me. Sunrises are a little on the nose as metaphors for new beginnings, but there it is; simple and true. Believable. Real.
Begin again.
I breathe, exhale, relax, and look over the many pictures I took on my recent coastal getaway. I spent most of that time working, and so most of the pictures are of the view from the balcony or windows of the hotel room where I stayed for 4 days, with a handful taken on this or that walk on the beach on a lunch break, or some opportune moment when the tide was low. It was time well-spent. I reflect on the time, now, hoping to prevent the nurturing emotional gains of rest, resilience, and introspection from slipping away in the chaos of returning home to an injured partner, and the busy whirlwind of pre-holiday life, generally. Breathe in. Breathe out. Look at the next picture. Repeat.
My Traveling Partner asks about breakfast sandwiches and whether I might make some…? It’s time to begin again.
How utterly ordinary this seems. Me, a cup of coffee, a dark early morning awake ahead of the sun… I could have slept in… if I could have slept in. lol I’m not even disappointed; I woke rested and uncertain of the time. By the time I had gotten up to pee and also found a means of checking the time, I was quite wide awake and feeling that a new day had begun. I tried to go back to bed, but that lasted only minutes; I was clearly awake. So. Coffee time. 😀
Once I had made a cup of coffee, I shut off the lights and opened the curtains, the better to see the changing light as day breaks. For now, all is dark and quiet. At home, in the heart of agriculture and rural industries, this is not a particularly early hour. There would be some traffic on the road and the highway, and evidence of businesses preparing to open, most cafes and coffee stops would already be bustling with folks heading to work, or places unknown – even on a Saturday, there’d be some traffic and people coming and going. (It’s not that early, just early enough to still be dark on a December morning.) Here? In a seaside tourist town? It may as well be deserted. Rarely, cars roll down the highway. I see few headlights pass by “out there” beyond the window, beyond the bay, where the highway follows the curves of the hills beyond. No house windows are lit up, yet. No sounds come from other rooms. It’s quiet. Dark, quiet, early, this is still a day filled with promise and not much else quite yet. It’s more than an hour until sun rise.
…Good cup of coffee…
I slept well and deeply last night, and my dreams were untroubled, and unremembered now. Easy night. I hope my Traveling Partner got some rest. I wish him well from afar. As it turns out, this coastal getaway ends up being largely wasted with regard to the primary reason for going in the first place, which was to give my partner room to work. He’s been in pain and not easily able to work at all. Fucking hell. How unfortunate – and how unfair! Nonetheless, this is also time that greatly benefits me directly, and my emotional wellness is bolstered and supported with it. Already paid for, so I make a point to enjoy it, to savor it, and to take advantage of it fully without any guilt or awkwardness. I help him by coming home feeling well and merry, far more than if I rush back anxiously – and wastefully. 🙂
I sip my coffee and reflect on the day ahead. This is my one day on the coast (on this trip) that is not to do with work in any way. I’m free to enjoy the day as I’d like, whatever that means. I don’t yet know. Walk on the beach? Prowl antique shops as yet unexplored? A leisurely brunch somewhere? Laze the day away reading books? Some of all those things? I don’t know. I relish the feeling of luxury that comes of a momentary recognition that if I wanted to, I could just go back to bed and get more sleep. My time is my own, and that feels quite lovely.
I sip my coffee and explore that feeling of luxury. It dawns on me (maybe not for the first time) what a real treat that feeling of my time being my own actually is. Human beings are social creatures. We work and play collaboratively. We create and make and labor in partnerships, teams, groups, and communities. We are industrious as global enterprises. We live as families. My love of solitude is the oddity, not the norm, and in all likelihood it’s a byproduct of my chaos and damage, my trauma, and the resulting lack of enjoyment I take from society, generally… probably. I know my Traveling Partner misses me deeply when I’m away, sometimes to the point of depression. I miss him, too, but… day-to-day, I often find myself missing… this. The solitude. The quiet that allows me more room to “hear myself think”. The stillness that becomes a beautiful space to write, or paint. The freedom to simply be – without disturbing or inconveniencing anyone else with my quirks or my anxiety. So, this morning I merrily raise my coffee mug to the dark sky beyond the window, as if to say “here’s to the luxury of a couple days of solitude!” – if I haven’t “earned” it, nonetheless, I sure do enjoy it. I’m grateful for a partnership sufficiently secure to permit it as often as I do get to enjoy it. I make a point to sit with that gratitude awhile, listening to the ocean waves as the tide comes in.
…This cup of coffee is finished. I make another. I see the note that I left for myself by the coffee machine. It says “go easy on the coffee, you’ll want to sleep later!” A reminder from me to myself. I often do drink too much coffee when I’m indulging myself with some getaway or when I’m camping. It rarely seems to be a problem, the way it definitely is when I’m home living a routine ordinary life of habit and calendar. I have no idea why there’s such a difference. Maybe there isn’t? Maybe it’s an illusion? I consider whether to spend more time on that, and decide it’s unimportant. I make another coffee and move on with my thoughts.
The sky begins to lighten, ever so slightly shifting toward a dark subtly blue gray. The cars on the highway begin to pass in occasional clusters. High tide is still a bit more than two hours away, and will occur well after sun rise, which is only an hour away now. For now, just the earliest hint of dawn appears. The specificity of the language we have to describe these experiences delights me. It’s somehow very telling of the importance to human primates of the coming of a new day, that we can so clearly describe its coming using words, in such detail.
On the highway, across the bay, I see taillights just stopped there. I know that spot – there’s a pull out right there, with access to the mudflats at low tide. There are a trio of large rocks jutting out of the bay near there. The spot is called (on the map) “Freedom Rock”. It’s too dark to go down to the bay from the highway, still. It’s also almost high tide; there’s no where to go (it’s covered with water). I see that car continue to sit, lights on, then shut off the lights. I imagine some other version of me – or some similar sort of individual – sitting there in their car, waiting for enough daylight to go for some walk. It seems familiar and reasonable, and the thought pleases me. I sip my coffee and think my thoughts. I wonder if they will be disappointed when daylight reveals the lack of any point in waiting at that spot? lol
Just barely dawn; a pointless photograph.
The sky is just starting to evolve from the darkness of night to the dim light of dawn. Another few minutes, and it will be possible to take a picture without using night settings. Another cup of coffee will be consumed. My email account will sync and my app notifications will begin pinging me. Day will begin. I’m reminded to take my morning medications, and snarl quietly and not very seriously as I head over to the counter where I left them. “Aging sucks…”
I take time for yoga and meditation, then go downstairs to the breakfast bar adjacent to the lobby for a light bite of breakfast. I’m not overly eager to be out in the world, among people, so perhaps a sit down breakfast in a restaurant is not an ideal choice, this morning? No obligation to be fancy or lavish with my spending, and I’m pretty easily satisfied with a yogurt cup and a toasted English muffin. I turn my eyes toward the window just in time to see the horizon infused with shades of strawberry and peach… I jump to catch a shot of it, stubbing my toe painfully on the way…
The sort of sight worth 4 days in a hotel room.
A minute later and I’d have missed it altogether. The sky has returned to a rather featureless rainy day gray once again. Worth the stubbed toe. Worth 4 days in a hotel room. It was a gorgeous sight and the picture hardly captures it at all. I sip my coffee contemplating which pigments I would choose to capture that view on canvas. If I’d painted such a thing, in such vibrant colors, before seeing this view myself, I would hardly be surprised if someone else seeing that painting assumed I’d taken artistic liberties with the colors. lol
I sigh happily and finish my second cup of coffee, my yogurt, and my English muffin. My Traveling Partner pings me – he’s awake now too. It’s a new day. The sun has risen, though there’s no visible sign of it beside the daylight itself. I’ve still no particular idea what I’ll do with the day, and it has begun to rain softly. Antique stores and books are winning out over beach walks, presently, but the tide will begin to recede sometime after 09:00, plenty of time to consider walking on beaches later on.
Plan or no plan, I find myself ready to begin again. 😀
Evening Light 