Archives for category: Mindfulness

It rained through the night, off and on. It was raining when I left the house this morning, heading for the trailhead up the road a way. The rain starts and stops. It’s fine. There’s plenty of space between the raindrops to walk, and I’ve got my cheap rain poncho. Good enough. It’s still raining, mostly, but not very hard, mostly. I’m okay with a little rain.

I’m fortunate to be near a bit of shelter when the sky breaks open and dumps an aggressive quantity of rain down, making a lot of puddles and a tremendous racket. For these few minutes, standing out of the rain, writing, I don’t hear my tinnitus at all. The rain is louder, pummeling the path, leaves, and marshy places, and hiding the full moon that had been lighting my way.

… Beautiful moon… beautiful rain storm… beautiful moment…

I sigh quietly and stand listening to the rain, and smelling the scents of autumn. Somewhere, someone has a fire going in their fireplace, reminding me that this hint of wild places between river and marsh is quite surrounded by suburban life. As the rain begins to slow down, I hear the familiar sound of traffic on the wet highway beyond this nature park. I can’t see it from this vantage point, only cloudy soggy sky overhead and silhouettes of trees along the path.

It’s a pleasant quiet moment. I’ve things to do later, mostly routine Sunday housework and a couple of errands, but also some gift wrapping to get done, and holiday cards to address and prepare for mailing. It feels a little last minute to be doing the cards in the middle of December, but they’ll likely reach their destinations in time, and it’s not worth any amount of stress, anyway. I choose to do them, it’s not a graded homework assignment. lol

The rain stops. Somewhere nearby the Canada geese are gronking. I wonder what may have disturbed their rest, then see a small light bobbing along. I’m apparently sharing the trail this morning. I finish up my writing. It’s time to walk on. The journey is the destination, and it’s a good time to begin again.

I don’t see the full moon until I reach the trailhead. It peeks out from between stormy clouds. The wind blows ferociously and the clock on my microwave alerted me this morning that at some point during the night the power had been out; the time was no longer set. The wind howls through bare trees, sounding a lot like winter, but the temperature is balmy, mild, and feels almost warm. Everything is soggy and a smattering of raindrops continues to fall. I sit contentedly on the hood of my car for a few minutes, boots on, cane beside me, ready to walk a couple miles along the edge of the marsh before the sun rises, trail faintly illuminated by the full moon.

… This? Right here, now? Excellent moment.

Stormy morning, full moon.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s a Saturday morning, and I’m in no hurry. I’ve got the park and trail to myself, and that beautiful moon overhead. No reason to rush – and all the best reasons to savor this moment and be fully present in it. I take a few minutes to write some words; this is worth remembering, reinforcing, and reflecting upon, it’s that good.

The sprinkle of rain stops. It’s time to begin again.

The trailhead parking is thankfully empty today. My “extra headache” has abated (but my Traveling Partner and the Anxious Adventurer now seem to have it, so maybe some kind of illness going around). The rain has been quite light and intermittent. I swap my shoes for my hiking boots, expecting to get a walk in before work this morning.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. My neck aches ferociously and my tinnitus is quite loud this morning. Typical physical bullshit I deal with daily, and this morning I don’t let it wreck my mood. I am feeling the holiday spirit this year, more than some years. I enjoy the excitement and feeling of being “lifted up”. It’ll no doubt pass; most emotional experiences are very temporary. I’m okay with that. I’m enjoying it now, and listening to the rain fall. I’ve got holiday carols stuck in my head and just now realized I haven’t sent cards! LOL

… I guess I’ll do that this weekend…

It’s a nice morning for beginnings. I listen to the traffic rolling by on the wet highway. The rain has stopped, at least for now, and it’s definitely time to begin again. I grab my cane and my headlamp and get on with it.

It’s a time of year I’m often thinking about presents, more than I am thinking about presence, but there are a lot of good reasons to pause for a moment and reflect on really simply being, in the moment I’m standing in. I sip my coffee a little vacantly; I’m slow to get things going this morning, and woke too early for no obvious reason. I’m feeling a little sluggish, and a lot distracted – only there’s nothing really going on “in here”. I’m just existing for a moment, a little inclined to wait it out for the next moment.

I watched a video (again) yesterday evening that really “speaks to me”. The topic is Ichigo Ichie, and it is about presence – being in the moment. I think about the idea of being present, and understanding each lived moment as an entirely unique, unrepeatable experience. I breathe, exhale, and relax, and sip my coffee thoughtfully, awake and aware, letting my senses fill up with this moment right here. I skipped my walk this morning. I have a painful headache and headlights sweeping across my eyes in the darkness was unpleasant, so I came directly to the office. It’s chilly in the office, somewhat unpleasantly so, but maybe it’s just me? The experience of ambient temperature can be such a subjective thing. I sit quietly with my thoughts and this moment for a little while.

…13 days until Giftmas. I’m not exactly counting down the days, but I’m aware of the holiday drawing near. There’s very little left to do about it, besides enjoy the moments. The weekend will come, and with it the final payday before the holiday. I’ll finish up small purchases for Giftmas stockings, and stock the pantry with favorite holiday treats. I remind myself to talk over the holiday meal with my Traveling Partner and figure out the menu for brunch on Giftmas morning. I smile thinking about it. There have been years of such tremendous struggle – this doesn’t feel like that, and I explore the feeling of quiet joy, and relative ease. There’s very little stress, and that feels very good. I let myself enjoy the awareness of the lack of stress – that seems like something worth savoring.

I think about my Dear Friend. It’s still quite odd to be enjoying the holiday season without her presence in the background of every activity and every moment of joy. I shared so much with her, I sometimes feel a little lost, as if standing on something very unsteady and having to find my balance. We shared so many Giftmases together over the years of our friendship – about 10 of those in person, for at least some portion of the Yule holiday season, and through conversation and email for all the rest that followed my break-up with my previous partner, who had been her son. It’s a strange path we each take through life. Quite an interesting journey, and I was fortunate to share so much of it with my Dear Friend. I’m not feeling tragic about it, this morning, just sitting with the wonders of holidays past, that we enjoyed together. I remember a particular holiday, trudging happily through sloppy streets, ankle deep in slush and snow, finishing the holiday shopping as I made my way to the train station to meet my Dear Friend. Some details stand out quite sharply (like the snow, and the cold, and the starry night), others much less so (was she traveling alone? Was I?). I smile and think about what matters most in life, and on this very human journey.

I sigh quietly, sipping my coffee, sitting with my thoughts in this moment right here. It’s a good moment. I feel connected and present, and ready to begin again.

I don’t know what to write about today. This is as close as I ever really get to “writer’s block” – starting with a “blank mind” instead of merely a blank page. lol

It’s nearly noon, and I’m taking a break for “lunch”, though I’m not hungry and don’t plan to eat. I’ve got this (fairly dreadful) iced coffee, and a few minutes of sunshine, and a quiet little room to myself, suited to making room for a bit of writing in the middle of the day. I just don’t really have anything much to say, presently. Nothing I think is worth committing to any measure of permanence. I’m tired. My head aches. The world is burning. Petty nitwits seem to be running everything – and somehow, they were actually elected by real people. What the fuck? Looks like that’s only going to get worse over the next couple years, too. American healthcare is so disastrously bad that ordinary people are shooting health insurance company executives in the streets. A population once nearly wiped out by genocide engages in obvious genocide, and when accused of committing genocide seems to think “no we’re not” is an adequate response, while the bodies pile up. Corporate greed drives AI start-ups to completely disregard the basic humanity of human beings, providing “chatbot companions” to vulnerable young people (for profit) with predictably terrible consequences – but, you know, they made money on that. None of this is good. 100% of all of it was avoidable. Choices were made.

Human greed. Human pettiness. Human self-righteousness. Human douche-baggery. Human violence. Fucking hell, some days it definitely looks like the underlying problem is… humanity. I’m pretty sure we could do better.

I don’t really want to be thinking about any of that terrible shit, particularly with this headache. Fuck. I’d rather cozy up with a book, or nap in a sunny room, or putter in my garden (those roses definitely need pruning, and I’m past due to winterize my raised bed). What the fuck is wrong with people?? When did being rich or “right” become more important than being a good human being and building a world in which everyone can thrive? Why are so many people fighting to grab a bigger piece of pie, instead of baking a bigger fucking pie? I don’t get it…

I sip my terrible coffee, grateful to have it. I can easily imagine a day in a not-very-distant future when coffee may not be available at all – or only to the very wealthy few. I’m not one of those. I sigh to myself. I’m okay. I’m fortunate in spite of the pain I’m in. I hold on to that, and look out the window, thinking about love, and life, and what matters most. No doubt there is righteous satisfaction in embracing my anger, but it won’t feel as good as gentle words, and thoughts of love, and being kind in a world where kindness has grown so rare. I’m tired. I’m just one human primate with limited ability and knowledge. I can’t be everything to everyone, ever – but I can be the best version of myself that I’ve learned to be, and I can do my best to do better today, and again tomorrow. Yeah, I’m pretty fucking human, myself, prone to temper and misunderstandings, and moments of foolishness. My results vary.

…I keep practicing…

So, I take my break. Exchange some pleasant words with my beloved Traveling Partner. I do what I can to ease this fucking headache, and look forward to seeing the one doctor I’ve got that reliably provides me with any relief at all – Saturday. That’s soon. I look out the window for a few minutes, watching a crow on a branch in the tree beyond watching me back. So much pain… in my head, in my back…in the world. Shit. I guess I’ve just got to do my best.

…Time to begin again…