Archives for category: joy

I woke groggy from a deep sleep, and couldn’t immediately recall why I had set my alarm on a Sunday.

… Only it isn’t Sunday at all, it’s Friday…

Right. I’m off today for the Equinox. I’m up early to see the sun rise.

Welcoming the dawn, taking a moment for quiet joy and reflection.

I made it to the trailhead in time to see the first hints of dawn begin to color the horizon. It’s a gray Spring morning, quite overcast, and smelling of rain and green things sprouting all around. The meadow and marsh are looking less brown. The trees are full of little birds, and squirrels are playfully sprinting past me in the grass as if I might chase them. After yesterday afternoon in the garden, I ache all over, and would not be chasing the squirrels even if I were inclined to do so, which I’m not.

I’ll be in the garden again today, later. It’s that time. There is so much to do! Weeding mostly, this time of year, and some pruning (which I finished yesterday). Early seeds, like peas, should have been planted months ago, but my fall laziness paid off in consequences; the garden was not ready for planting. After I catch up on all of the preparatory work, I’ll plant young starts and enjoy them every bit as much as watching seeds sprout. There are lessons to be learned in the garden.

A small brown bird stops on the fence rail next to me, rather close. I stop writing to avoid startling her with my movement. We sit together for a couple minutes, then she looks at me and sings a little song before flying away. A good omen? Perhaps. If you’re into that sort of thing.

I think about the world, and it’s a crazy terrifying mess. Not humanity’s finest moment, if we’re being honest, is it? I sigh to myself and come back to this moment here. The coming of Spring… only… Spring got here weeks ago. But it is the Equinox, for me that represents balance and renewal. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I take a few minutes for meditation. As I sit, a small herd of deer wanders by, all does. They watch me with soft brown eyes as they pass me one by one. They cross the trail, heading into the meadow towards the marsh ponds. They are not troubled by the state of the world.

I reflect on the lessons of deer and of gardening. Life has a lot to teach us, when we live it. That’s worth considering more closely. I smile to myself and to the plump robin rustling breakfast from the ground beneath the leaf litter at my feet.

I welcome the Spring and the dawn of a new day. It’s time to begin again.

I’m sitting at the halfway point of my morning trek across the marsh. It’s beautiful here, the day is young, and the sunrise was splendid. I feel fortunate to enjoy this moment.

Each time for the first time. Each moment the only moment.

(No AI was used to create or edit this content.)

I walked the trail wrapped in contentment, joy, and love. Simply mentioning to my Traveling Partner that I might like to explore using a bit of makeup to improve my appearance on work calls got me more support than I could have imagined. I grin to myself, swinging my feet as I sit on this fence rail listening to the sounds of life along the riverbank in Springtime. I smell flowers.

I once wore makeup a lot. That was a very long time ago. I stopped all that when I went to war. When I came home none of that sort of thing to do with appearances mattered to me at all. Life was too short, too precious, and I was for sure too broken to be bothered with any of that. I could have continued to wear my BDUs and combat boots indefinitely. I exchanged them for jeans and sweaters. After my divorce, I just wasn’t having any part of partners, or lovers, or frankly anyone else telling me how to look or what defines feminity. I am a woman. I’ll define feminity for myself, as I please, and the entire world can fuck right off. 😂

…No one else tells me who I am, that belongs to me…

…But… Aging being what it is, and spending so much time “on camera” in work meetings, I can admit that it wouldn’t hurt to take another look at what I can do with a little makeup, minimal effort, and little expense, to highlight my natural look without plastering over my face with some mask of acceptability. lol Tools are tools; they serve a purpose.

I watch little birds playing in the trees. Being present matters most. Life is not about appearances.

…Where we turn our attention largely determines what’s on our minds…

There is beauty in the world. Are you seeing it?

I think about appearances, and distractions. I think about the way media companies and tech companies seek to hold our attention, in spite of our own interests and desires. It takes an act of will to put that slop aside and turn one’s attention to what matters most. This only works if we have an understanding of what does matter most to us as an individual (which implies sufficient self-reflection and self knowledge to have that understanding). It’s not surprising to me that so many people just give up and dive back into their phones. (Although that does strike me as a terrible wasteful approach to human potential.)

What are you looking at? The sky? The tree? The little birds? Choose. The choice is yours.

Are you mired in despair, trapped by doomscrolling? That’s a choice. Put it down. Go outside. Read a book. Laugh with a friend. You are choosing, every moment. No books? Go to a library; they still exist. No friends? Meet real people in the world, interact with strangers, and open yourself to conversation. It may feel awkward. Your results may vary, but the verbs and choices are yours. Incremental change happens over time. Keep at it. Choose your path and walk it.

Not a bit of this “choose your path” stuff is “easy”. Choices are complicated. The menu of the Strange Diner is so much to take in. “Can’t” is easier than doing the verbs, failing, learning, and growing… But here it is, Spring. It’s a lovely time for growth and beginnings. Like learning to apply makeup again, as if for the first time, it’s often the decision to do it that is the most difficult part. Taking the first step feels hard. Maybe that’s a choice, too?

… Gnothi seauton…

… What will you do about that? It’s important. Who are you? Who do you want most to be? To whom have you obligated yourself, or given your decision making? Are you just mouthing someone else’s opinions? Are you living your life?

I think about it as I sit watching a new day unfold. I’m glad I took the day off for self-reflection and meditation. Later, I’ll be in the garden, clearing away the weeds and preparing the soil. Yes, of course it’s a metaphor – but I’ll also really be there, with my fingers in the soil, doing the verbs. That’s how practicing works.

It’s a journey. Choose your path wisely.

[No AI was used in writing or editing this content.]

It is Wednesday. An ordinary day in all obvious respects. Today I did not drop any bombs on my neighbors. It was surprisingly easy. There is reciprocal communication on all sides; I wave and say “hi!” when I see them, they return my greeting. No bombs required. I’m quite certain that adding bombs to our interactions would not be at all helpful, and the destruction would be costly. Just saying, the whole “let’s drop some bombs” approach to diplomacy isn’t a particularly useful way of reaching accord with one’s neighbors. It seems, in fact, pretty fucking stupid, but here we are; fuckwits with too much power dropping bombs because no one is stopping them from doing so.

I get to the trailhead before daybreak, put on my headlamp and set off down the trail. I get to my halfway point in darkness and sit listening to the sound of the creek nearby, still full and fast from recent days of rain. No flooding, and most of the puddles on the trail are gone after a couple of warm Spring afternoons. I hear soft hesitant footsteps, something stirring in the brush. A deer steps out of the trees along the trail and slowly walks past me,  her eyes on me as she passes, then another, and then a third. They step down the trail a ways, before turning and disappearing from view.

I sit awhile with my thoughts. I have a lot to think about. I let the thoughts come and go like clouds, or the turn of an unread page in a book I’ve read many times before, skipping ahead to something better. I am choosing what to spend my time on, and where to put my attention.

I’m eager to get back to painting, if not this weekend, then after the Anxious Adventurer has moved out and I have my space back. The lack of creative work isn’t really about the space, though, it’s the environment. Initially, I was exhausted from caregiving and uninspired. This stopped me painting for about a year. The “emotional environment” became a more profound impediment, fairly quickly. It was an unfortunate harbinger that the living arrangement wasn’t going to work out long-term; I need to be able to paint in my own home. It wasn’t anything deliberate and there was no malicious intention, but there also was no willingness to be aware of the problem nor to address it. So. Here we are.

The wheel keeps turning. The clock keeps ticking.

One more work shift, then a long weekend for the Equinox. I hope to spend most of my time in the garden, preparing it for Spring. I may drive out to the coast for a day trip and some time walking the beach and listening to what the wind and waves have to say. I plan to continue my practice of specifically not dropping bombs or shooting people. So far it has been surprisingly easy to avoid. No idea why the head fuckwit in office is having so much difficulty with that, honestly. (One might be forced to assume that chaos, destruction and murder were explicitly the desired outcome. So incredibly vile and horrifying.)

I sigh to myself and watch the sky turn a deep blue gray as daybreak comes. I’m grateful for another day on which I can look into the sky without worrying about bombs or drone attacks; this place is not a target of bombs or drones (so far). I’m fortunate.

The clock is ticking. Where does this path lead?

The thought of my Traveling Partner sleeping at home brings a smile to my face. We’ve been enjoying each other’s company quite a lot, and as his recovery progresses, our intimacy is restored and the connection we share deepens. It’s lovely. It’s also another reason it will be good to “have our space back”. No ill will towards the Anxious Adventurer, and I’m grateful for the help he provided while he was here, but our lifestyles are not similar enough to make cohabitation easy, with regard to intimacy.

Change is.

I sit awhile longer. The clock ticks on. Eventually, it’s time to begin again.

Today is “Pi day”. 😁 Pi day has always put a smile on my face since it became a thing I was aware of. Eat some pie. Celebrate some fun with numbers. Maybe take time to learn more about pi as a number. Have a little fun, and remember that math doesn’t change based on whether you understand it. You can learn it, it’s just a different language.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I reached the trailhead sometime after daybreak, just as sunrise began, but the clouds were positioned such that it wasn’t particularly colorful. A thin crescent moon hangs over the farm fields that become a seasonal lake with the autumn rain. This year it was Spring before that happened, and it is not the dramatic change it usually is.

A new day and an opportunity to begin again.

The marsh is soggy. The seasonal trail is flooded in places and not safe to walk. The all season trail is less fraught with obstacles and unlikely to be impassable at any point. It takes me alongside the Tualatin river, and there’s a very nice place to sit, there. I head out content to walk with my thoughts awhile. It’s enough.

Spring feels like it’s already here.

When I reach this “view point”, I stop and sit with my thoughts awhile. It is as different a day from yesterday as it possibly could be. I feel comfortable, contented, and unbothered. I feel lighthearted and wrapped in love. Feelings are feelings. Feelings are not rooted in factual objective circumstances. I’m okay with letting yesterday’s feelings go; they are part of yesterday. That was s different moment, a moment that has passed. I don’t benefit from clinging to it.

Little birds flit among the still bare branches of the trees and shrubs around me. I watch them with delight. This moment is enough just as it is. Later, I’ll begin again, for now I’ll just be here, enjoying the moment I’ve got.

This morning I slept in, even accounting for the change to Daylight Savings Time, and in spite of this head cold, which is much better today.

Spring comes to the marsh and meadow, and the oaks on the hillside.

I get to the trailhead equipped with new boots and a smile that feels too big for this moment. I’m enjoying the glow of being so deeply loved, and the recollection of a leisurely coffee with my Traveling Partner this morning. It was quite delightful. Right now, nothing matters more.

Where do you find your peace? How do you restore your resilience when it’s tested? How do you recharge your batteries? Are you doing enough of those things to feel well and whole and reliably content? Just questions I asked myself on the way down the path – many times over the years, actually – and they reverberate through my consciousness as my steps took me down the trail this morning. Lovely morning for it.

… Right now, feeling wrapped in love and filled with contentment and gratitude, I am as happy as I have ever been. This is a happy moment. I marveled at it as my steps crunched down the trail, cane in hand, smiling. This is a truly wonderful feeling. I savor this feeling and the moments that lead me here this morning. I chuckle to myself happily; I feel safe from self-sabotage, because I’m also comfortably aware that “this too will pass”. Moments are fleeting, and it’s best to enjoy them without getting attached. 😁

I breathe, exhale, and relax. No coughing. I think I’m getting past the worst of this cold and beginning to recover.

I am fortunate to be so loved. I’m grateful that the most profound love of my lifetime is also my friend. I’m grateful for the depth of our connection and these years of joy and growth that we’ve shared. I’m deeply appreciative for the opportunities we’ve taken to lift each other up and offer encouragement and wisdom won through facing life’s challenges individually (and together).

I sit swinging my feet and looking out over the marsh. It is less solitary at this time of the morning, and I see hikers and photographers out on the trail, on the other side of the marsh. Ahead of me or behind me, I can’t tell. We’re fellow travelers on a path we hope will take us where we want to go. It’s figuring out the destination that is the tricky bit, isn’t it? That, and not being distracted by some other traveler’s journey. We’re each having our own experience. Sometimes it takes awhile to figure out that the journey is the destination.

I smile happily, enjoying the moment. It’s enough. Later, I’ll begin again.