Archives for category: more than a little bit of bitching

This morning I woke too early. I say “too early” because I definitely haven’t had enough sleep. The heat made sleeping difficult last night, and although I stayed the course with evening routines intended to coax sleep from the most energetic monkey mind, nonetheless I was still wakeful well past my usual time for sleep. I don’t mean to complain, I’m just observing that my short night was the result of challenges at both ends. This morning I woke, shortly after 3:30 am. I thought I might go back to sleep… I didn’t.

The evening ended on a high note, great conversation and a full moon rising beyond the trees.

The evening ended on a high note. The heat of the day was irrelevant.

My restless mind wasn’t even certain of coffee, and I suppose considering the early hour, that’s more reasonable than not. I held on to the chance I might return to sleep for some time, before yielding to the imminent dawn and making that first cup of coffee. I have my coffee, too hot to drink. I’ve done yoga. Taken time for meditation. Medicated quite sufficiently to address any anxiety or pain. Now… I wait for the dawn. I don’t mean to be waiting for it, but I find myself checking and re-checking the sliver of light appearing at the edge of the skyline, watching hints of pink, peach, and gold begin to crowd out shades of blue, gray, and purple as the night retreats. I feel a bit as if I am ‘waiting for the sun’. I’d rather be sleeping.

...I could go for my morning walk early...

…I could go for my morning walk early…

I test my coffee with a cautious sip. Still too hot to drink. Like the night, mocking my sleep last night with the lingering heat of summer, my coffee mocks me this morning… I’d very much like to drink my coffee now. It’s very much still too hot. The morning temperature in the apartment feels cool… well, cooler. Mostly cool. The thermometer tells me it is still 70 degrees (F), much warmer than this hour of the morning generally is (more typically between 53-59 degrees F this time of year).

Yesterday's pictures seem mostly of sunshine.

Yesterday’s pictures seem mostly of sunshine.

I pause to wonder why the hell the United States is still using degrees Fahrenheit for temperature, instead of Celsius? (Our resistance to using the metric system says a lot about us as a nation… and what it says about us is troubling.)

The summer garden is filled with things going to seed.

The summer garden is filled with things going to seed.

I’m still fussing about the heat, even though the morning air is comfortable and pleasant. It’s a distraction, nothing more. It’s not as if I have much to complain about, really. It’s quite a lot hotter in many other places. There are other things to contemplate, to plan, to do, today; a house guest (and dear friend) will arrive later, and my traveling partner will be traveling – after himself having a very short night, due to some commonplace planning/logistical sorts of challenges, yesterday. We enjoyed a lovely evening together, and very much a celebration of sorts. The connected, pleasantly social, time together precedes a week apart. Another. 🙂 (He does much of his traveling during the summer, and “this too shall pass”.)

I find myself again and again distracting myself from needless worry about my traveling partner by fussing about the heat. A mostly fairly harmless exchange of stressors, but the risk is that the thing that matters most (my partner’s well-being) is diminished or disregarded by this dodge, and too much weight is put on something relatively unimportant (the weather).  I pause. Sip my coffee. Breathe. Allow myself to fully recognize my desire for my partner to always feel his best, to be generally content and merry, to enjoy his experience moment to moment – and I allow myself to experience my subtle concern about the effect his short night may have on his long day ahead. I breathe. I accept my feelings. I smile, reminded how generally competent my partner is, and how skillfully he typically takes care of himself. I breathe. I wish him well from afar, and let my heart move on.

Hours after waking... still waiting for the sun.

Hours after waking… still waiting for the sun.

The sky is already a clear steady cerulean blue, although the sun has not yet appeared above the horizon. Another hot day in the forecast, and I expect real life will comply.  One win about these hot dry summer days… much less pain. Keeping the apartment as cool as I can, and preparing for the weekend in the company of a good friend I haven’t actually seen in… well… years, is how I’ll spend the day. The short night will, hopefully, become a longish nap, later. 🙂 (Taking care of myself is a very high priority, and failing to get enough sleep becomes a problem quite quickly.)

I sip my coffee, and frown at the word count. Too many words. About very little of any substance. Have I really spent 700 words bitching about the damned weather? Heat! In the summer! Seriously? It’s a new day. The sun is not yet up. I can already begin again… 🙂

 

I’m home. Gear unpacked, cleaned, put away for future use. There’s still the matter of sorting out thoughts and photographs; it was a peculiarly eventful trip out to the trees, but there’s little I can do about the matter of finding the words for it, at least for now.

The trail at Saddle Mountain bested me utterly, and by that I mean I didn’t make it to the top. 🙂 I’m okay with that, still counting it among life’s successes – it’s often more about showing up than whatever the outcome may be. I managed a half mile up the trail, and back down, and learned more about how having a clear-seeming destination can alter the characteristics of a journey. I enjoyed a day out among the trees, and returned home with only 17 mosquito bites. 😀

When I arrived with the sun there was just one site available.

When I arrived with the sun there was just one site available.

I secured my camp site early in the morning on Friday with the intention of staying the weekend, and I was surprised that the camping was basically full. I quickly learned it generally is so full that incoming travelers quickly grab every vacancy as departing campers make their exit. (The posted rules are ‘check out by 1 pm, check in begins at 4 pm’, but there is no actual gap between 1:00 pm-4:00 pm during which tent sites are actually vacant.)

Heading up the trail.

Heading up the trail.

I hadn’t planned to attempt the trail the first day, but the enticing coolness of the forest drew me in, and I found myself walking. The brochure describes the trail as a ‘continuous incline’ (it is) that is very steep in places (not an exaggeration) and recommends it only for fit, sure-footed hikers, in proper footwear (wise). I went anyway – great footwear, at least, and feeling prepared, if not ‘sure-footed’. lol

...Just keep walking...

…Just keep walking…

I took very few pictures on the trail. Many that I took didn’t turn out. I was amused to find one reminder of the trail difficulties turned out only too well…

The obstacle that stopped me reaching the Humbug Mountain view point.

The obstacle that stopped me reaching the Humbug Mountain viewpoint.

Life’s journey has obstacles and detours. Part of finding my way is making wise decisions regarding which to overcome, and which to walk away from. I was finding this small side trail enticing and lovely – and relatively easy, until I reached this point. It was clear that hikers had been scrambling around this (tree trunk? branch? snag? fallen-down-something-or-other-that-once-was-tree); in doing so, over time, the path itself had crumbled away. Looking things over, I couldn’t determine with the needed certainty that the bit of tree clinging there to the hillside would truly support my weight sufficiently well to swing over the gap to the other side… and honestly didn’t come prepared to splint a broken leg and drag myself to help from the forest floor below, so I turned back, reminding myself it hadn’t been my intention to hike the entire trail today, anyway.  🙂

I returned to camp after hiking further up the main trail. It took me almost an hour to reach the 1/2 mile marker, and I contentedly headed back to camp. I’d taken some lovely trail pictures – many of which I didn’t yet know hadn’t turned out at all. I’d find that out after I returned home. lol But it isn’t about the pictures, is it? Life, I mean? It’s more about the living of each moment with exquisite awareness…and that doesn’t require a camera, at all. 😀

There are small things of great beauty surrounding us; we only need to look for them.

There are small things of great beauty surrounding us; we only need to look for them.

Moments to be savored don’t really need a camera. “Pictures or it didn’t happen”? That’s no real concern of mine. I don’t need to prove I live; I am living. 🙂

Perspective comes in all shapes and sizes.

Perspective comes in all shapes and sizes.

I had come hoping to see the meteor shower, figuring the remote location and high elevation would work in my favor. I hadn’t counted on the dense forest. I found two likely locations for good viewing, though, the parking lot, and the mostly dis-used ‘day use area’ on the other side.

The best view of the sky I could find near camp.

The best view of the sky I could find near camp.

I contentedly checked out the somewhat haunted seeming “picnic area” that had fallen into disrepair. It was a rare bit of quiet off the beaten path, at least in those moments that I was fortunate to explore it all to myself. Searching for a specific picture, of a specific moment, I happily discovered that I’d paused syncing on my Dropbox, and ‘found’ quite a few pictures I thought hadn’t turned out. Nice moment. I smile, sip my coffee, and enjoy it.

Once upon a time...

Once upon a time…

I had found what seemed a likely place to watch the meteor shower, and a reasonably easy & safe walk in the dark (even with a headlamp or flashlight, anything up the trail would be too risky in the dark). I spent much of the afternoon in this strangely forgotten timeless place, content with the stillness and solitude, beyond the sounds of voices and automobiles.

Beautiful day for a picnic.

Beautiful day for a picnic.

I spent the day whiling away hours in meditation, wandering, breathing in the scents of summertime, and naming all the shades of green; it was a day well-spent.

How many shades of green are there?

How many shades of green are there?

The night passed less comfortably, and my astonishment at how discourteous and inconsiderate people can be was quickly exhausted. Weary travelers arriving past midnight, disappointed to find no obvious vacancies didn’t just turn around and drive on, instead they illuminated the night forest with high beams, certain that if only they had the light of day to work with, they’d surely see the tent site they need… The regular interruption of the darkness was accompanied by a soundtrack, too, the cacophony of loud voices, strident, frustrated, insistent – tired people wanting rest who did not plan to arrive “early enough” to secure a tent site didn’t generally put the onus of their failure on their own shoulders, and seemed to seek silent validation from the rest of us, by shouting their tale of woe to each other across the dark parking lot and into the trees. Quiet hours after 10 pm? The park was actually noisiest from 11 pm to well past 1 am.

On the one hand, I didn’t sleep. On the other hand, the periodic interruptions that woke me also ensured I was indeed awake between 1 am and 4 am, and enjoyed a decent view of the starry night sky, and got to observe the meteor shower for some little while, although the experience suffered for the regular arrival and departure of visitors seeking a place to lay their heads for the night (see my earlier remarks on discourtesy and inconsiderate decision-making).

Even a day later, I am more than a little bit irked by hike/camp travelers who arrive on site past darkness, unprepared, and making a crap ton of noise. Surely planning is a small investment to arrive at a destination in a timely fashion so as not to intrude on the pleasant experience of others? I’m pretty sure most people approach that from a ‘fuck you, your experience doesn’t matter to me’ position these days… that sure seemed to be the case from the perspective I had from site #9 at Saddle Mountain. That’s a trivial matter, and it’s behind me now… seeping into my awareness of other circumstances and experiences, and I hope that I will take it to heart, myself, and act such that while I am out in the world enjoying my experience, I’m not wrecking the pleasant experience others are having around me. A small amount of consideration goes a long way. 🙂

I woke early yesterday, and dithered through my morning coffee… stay or go? Stay? Go. Stay. Go? One cup of coffee. Stay. Stay? No… go. Another cup of coffee. I’ll stay. It’s cooler up here. I’m not sleeping, though… I’ll go. Back and forth. I started heating water for oatmeal… and noticed I’d packed most of my gear in the car without really planning to in any specific way. (Trip to the rest room; take a bag to the car… Trip to get more water for coffee; take my hydration pack to the car…) Apparently, I had decided to return home – and the decision felt comfortable, natural, and relaxed. No pressure. No stress. I was ready to go home and didn’t need any other reason.

It was a lovely bit of time away, and I returned home with plenty to think over. Today is a good day for thinking thoughts, and preparing for the week ahead. 🙂

 

 

I woke this morning to a cool gray sky threatening rain. It’s probably an empty threat. I woke feeling okay, but within minutes I was feeling cross with the world, with humanity itself, and disappointed in the world and my fellow human kind most particularly. Seriously? We can’t do better for measures of success than revenue and gross margin? We can’t elevate ourselves as a specie beyond profiting on the suffering of others? Yeah. I didn’t actually mean to open up a news site first thing, and I’m definitely regretting it.  It wasn’t even ‘serious’ news, although to be honest I find that news information from sources like The Daily Show and Last Week Tonight regrettably often seem a higher caliber of reporting these days…and Last Week Tonight told me why, this morning.

How about it, humanity, how many more things can we ruin by chasing profit at the expense of substance, meaning, and value? We have so much potential…

Anyway. I’m not exactly angry about it… just disappointed. Disappointed first that I looked at the fucking news – any fucking news – first thing in the morning. I know better than to do that to my fragile waking consciousness. Then too, I am disappointed that as human beings we still hold up “making money” as some laudable skill, and “wealth” as a great goal for an adult life… and I am frustrated at how difficult it is to explain why it seems obvious this is a fairly stupid approach, generally. There is so little worth having that is “about” money.

I’m shouting into the wind. We all want things or experiences that “cost money”, making the money valuable to have. We’re constantly told “the market” sets the price of goods and services based on wholesome supply and demand. We ignore how badly wrong the math is because we like the way our ideas sound, and cave to pressure when we’re told that wages are also set by some mythic “market” and that our value is only as much as the job itself is “worth”, rather than being paid for the value of our expended life force (which is probably a whole lot less variable, frankly, since we are all human beings). Ah, but if I bitch when my bank account is fat, and I’m making a good wage, I’m told that it’s easy for me to say so, but…  And if I bitch when I’m broke, why, that’s sour grapes and I should do more, work harder, and surely I will profit. Seriously, people? It’s like I’m shouting at monkeys – the noise is audible, but it is unlikely I’m actually being understood. It is what it is, I guess… what a depressingly pointless human legacy. Fail sauce, fancy monkeys, fail sauce – keep your fingers poised over those typewriters, perhaps you’ll write a novel yet.

...Raindrops on roses...

…Raindrops on roses…

Sorry. As I said. I’m cross with disappointment in my fellow-man, this morning, and it’s my own doing. This too shall pass. I hear a soft rain falling, and open the window to smell the petrichor of meadow and marsh. I put on some music after a while. Humanity hasn’t changed much overnight, and changing my perspective will be the easier choice, instead of clinging to hope that my few aggravated words will sway even one human being as they choose the course of their life. We are each having our own experience. Looking past money’s magic funhouse mirror is too hard for most of us; we need stuff.

The music carries my heart to a different place as fast as a Mclaren F1 on a straight ribbon of highway. The beat pulls my sense of self out of my head, more firmly into my body, into this moment. Music becomes movement… becomes a bass guitar hanging from my body, and practice, and nothing at all to do with disappointment or aggravation. Am I slowly beginning to work out some of the challenges, incrementally, over time? Maybe…? I’ll keep practicing. Today is a good day for practicing the practices that tend most to improve my experience. 😀

Yesterday is behind me now. I’m glad to see it gone. As days goes, it was a bit like Snow White’s poisoned apple, perfectly lovely and enticing on the outside… tasting of bitterness and rot. The morning was a rare delight, a storm of positive emotions, and spent awash in feelings of love, loving, and being loved. The day’s delights took a hit from unexpected (and unwanted) email from an ex, a message from another ex (similarly unwelcome), and from there just sort of dropped into an abyss of heart-break, and it just wasn’t apparent going into the evening that it would be that sort. I’m glad the day is over with.

I woke with a headache. Eyes scratchy. Heart heavy. Feeling pretty… crappy. Sad. Wrung out. Tossed aside like bad fruit, unworthy. It wasn’t my favorite wake up.

I made coffee, resigned to existing another day. The misty raining morning seemed quite appropriate. I do okay. I’ve weathered other, far more horrible storms. I’ll survive others in the future. We are born to suffering, because we choose suffering. I started the morning prepared to endure more…. Love’s funny. Well… funny/not funny. I sure wasn’t laughing yesterday evening. I’m not really laughing, now.

I made my coffee and sat down to write. My traveling partner woke earlier than usual, and with the skill I know him for, put me back on the path of love… I’ll just call it magic. Sure, there were verbs involved. 🙂

Now the morning seems… right. I feel content. Calmed. Soothed. Loved. I sip my coffee listening to the rain fall. My head still aches, but now it’s just a headache, instead of some sign of personal failure, or the hallmark of great tragedy. Yeah… this injury makes a lot of life’s details far more dramatic (intense?) than they have any reason to be.

Contentment isn't so far out of reach; it's about being here, now, and recognizing it when I have enough.

Contentment isn’t so far out of reach; it’s about being here, now, and recognizing it when I have enough.

It’s just a day. I’m just a person. This is just one human experience. Love still matters most. I become what I practice… and I’m okay right now. 🙂

I woke up this morning to see, reflected in my Facebook feed, more news of more killings. It saddens me. Black lives do matter. All lives do matter. It’s a statistical given that not all cops are the bad guys. It’s apparent that black lives and white lives are treated differently under the law; the statistical, factual data regarding outcome, analyzed by racial characteristics, make that quite clear. Human beings have great potential – and great potential for violence. Doesn’t seem to matter whether those human beings work in law enforcement or not. Our culture is sick, and as so often happens when an organism is ill, the culture itself has no idea how vile the sickness is, how at risk of collapse this sickness puts us, the true nature of the illness, or how to cure it. It’s beyond sad, it’s indescribably depressing, when one additional detail is added, and it’s a very true thing; we’re choosing this.

Choose something different. I don’t know what else to say about it. Don’t kill people. Are you a cop? Don’t kill that person – yes, there are other choices. Are you a citizen just minding your own business? Don’t kill anyone. Even if you think, in some strange moment, that it seems ‘the only choice’, choose differently anyway. Angry that someone broke your heart? Don’t kill them. Angry that you’ve lost your job? Don’t kill anyone. Angry that life seems to favor some group of people you are not part of, at your expense? Don’t kill them. Seriously. Damn. When was the last time you – yes you, right there – read a news article in which someone was killed and thought to yourself, “well, that makes sense, that was just, and rational, clearly the only choice, and that human being – that dead one – their life had no actual value to them, or anyone else, as it was and killing them was entirely necessary for the remainder of humanity to survive and thrive”? I’m betting… oh hey, never! It has to stop. Doesn’t it? Why are we choosing this, of all things?

I’m frustrated, and I’m frightened. The world doesn’t feel very safe. I still don’t think taking up arms and going around killing people is the solution to that problem. Today let’s not kill people. Let’s choose differently. Let’s change the world.