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.
Cold morning. Above freezing, though, and I’m dressed warmly. I walk the trail in the pre-dawn darkness, grateful for the circle of light cast by my headlamp bobbing along with my steps. It rained during the night and the trail is slick with wet leaves in some spots, and in others there are puddles to avoid. I step along with care, feeling the cold, grateful for gloves and a scarf, and my warm fleece over a favorite sweater.
Clouds illuminated by city lights before dawn.
… This morning writing would wait until I’m back at the car…
It was a good walk. It’s a Monday morning. I’m in the kind of pain that only seems to come around in cold damp weather, unpleasant for sure, but I’m more angry about it than suffering from it. I resent the imposition on my abilities and my will. I’ve got shit to do, and a life to live. “Fuck pain,” I snarl quietly to myself as I warm up in the car after my walk.
Monday isn’t my busiest workday, generally, but today any sense of ease has been overcome by errands that need to be run, which bookend my day; early errands to drop off items being returned, and packages being posted, and at the other end, running my Traveling Partner over to his PT appointment. In between? Work, yes, but since I’m working from home, also anything else I can wedge into the day… taking out recycling, laundry, dishes… sometimes the notion of “a day off” dissipates like fog as the sun rises. I breathe, exhale, and relax. There’s no point being mad about it; I’m the one doing it to myself, and could certainly do a better job of managing my time and setting boundaries. It takes practice.
…I keep practicing…
… I’m tired as the holidays hurtle towards me on the calendar.
The VA sent me a “sound machine” after my audiology appointment. It arrived yesterday. It’s supposed to help with my tinnitus. I wonder if it will? Am I noticing any improvement after one night? I don’t know. I don’t think so? But, the shrieking of my tinnitus in my ears wasn’t the first thing that had my attention this morning, and when I got up to pee during the night, it didn’t keep me awake. So… maybe? How is success measured? I found the sound I selected very pleasant as background noise for sleeping… maybe that’s enough?
… I’m more eager to get my hearing aids…
I laugh at myself when I realize I’ve projected myself into a future moment only to feel discontent that it is not now. That’s just fucking dumb. A waste of precious mortal lifetime for sure. I pull myself back to now. This moment right here is quite a pleasant satisfying one, deserving to be enjoyed. I reflect for a moment on how easily I allow some new momentary difficulty to create chaos in my experience by letting it overwhelm a very pleasant moment I’ve been enjoying. That’s the entire point of practicing savoring each small joy and pleasant moment; to learn to refrain from twisting chaotically with every little thing, and to build emotional resilience.
I breathe, exhale, and relax. Lovely moment, this one. I take time to enjoy it. To meditate. To enjoy the steady progress towards the soggy sunrise before I begin the work day. It’s useful to let each new beginning be preceded by a quiet moment of reflection. So… I do that. Then I’ll begin again.
I sit quietly with my coffee. A steady light rain is falling. My tinnitus is loud in my ears and my mind wanders, unsettled and restless. I’m fine, for all describable commonplace values of “fine”. There’s nothing amiss. I’m tired perhaps, having wakened to the final full brightness of my sunrise alarm this morning, pulled from a very involved surreal dream that involved a large elegant home, a handful of friends, and a colony of guinea pigs.
I reached the trailhead during a break in the rain. My walk did nothing to improve upon my strange distractedness, but it was pleasant and that’s enough.
Rainy morning, another beginning.
I returned to the car just as the rain began falling again. I sit listening to it contentedly, warm and dry, enjoying my coffee. I’m grateful for insulated travel mugs (definitely a technological win). I’ve got an errand to run before I head home, and my Traveling Partner slept poorly during the night. I’m in no hurry, and he’ll benefit from some quiet time for sleeping before I get home and start on the housework.
It’s another ordinary enough day, just beginning. I breathe, exhale, and relax. There’s nothing much to comment on that hasn’t been said before. There are practices to practice. Results that will vary. Moments to enjoy. A path to walk. I watch daybreak slowly become dawn, then daylight. I take time to meditate and to reflect. Perspective is useful. The sound of the rain falling is peaceful. Yesterday was lovely, and busy, and I am tired in spite of a good night’s sleep. There’s much to do today in spite of fatigue. I’ve got a list. lol I think for a moment, looking over my list… and move “self-care” to the top.
It’s raining at the trailhead. Still dark, too. I decide to give it a few minutes. Maybe the rain will stop? I’m here earlier than I planned, anyway. My wakeful Traveling Partner woke me early with his wakefulness, and rather than keep him awake once I was awake, I dressed and made coffee and slipped away into the predawn drizzle.
… Now I wait…
We chat online for a few minutes, before my beloved returns to bed, and hopefully to sleep. The morning is quiet and calm. The rain is misty and not enough to prevent me from walking. The morning is a pleasantly mild one, the temperature a relatively comfortable 42°F. I had dressed for freezing weather; I’m definitely comfortable. The misty droplets covering the windshield glitter like scattered gems as passing headlights sweep over them from the nearby highway. Pretty.
… Nice morning…
The holiday shopping is done. Too late to change any of that now, although there are still packages arriving and gifts to wrap. There are still holiday sweets to buy for stockings and groceries to buy for holiday meals. So much yet be to do, but things also feel somehow “done”. Ready. There’s a plan in place and that’s enough. I feel content and mostly comfortable. The only discomfort I do have is purely physical and there’s nothing much to do about that besides taking care of myself properly. I double-check my shopping list to confirm I’d added capsaicin patches; they help some and I’m nearly out.
This is all such mundane stuff, isn’t it? It’s also enough. More than enough maybe; I feel fortunate. I do work at it – at the contentment and the quiet joy. I work at embracing sufficiency (chasing excess has only ever hurt me). I work at achieving and maintaining perspective. I work at non-attachment and at not taking shit personally. There are verbs involved, and practice, and my results vary – but over time I find myself quietly calm, contented, and joyful so much more often, I might even say these feelings have become characteristic of my day-to-day experience. That’s a pretty profound change from chaos, misery, and madness. There are few manic highs, these days. Abysmal dark lows are also very very rare. Mostly, things are pleasantly… ordinary. I don’t need the excitement of a rollercoaster ride in my emotional life. lol
… I sit quietly sipping my coffee, not quite waiting for the sun, just waiting…
My results will definitely vary. This is a very human experience. Moments are moments, and some of them are difficult. I’m okay. I’m here, now. I breathe, exhale, and relax. Practicing the practices. Beginning again.
It’s another icy morning. The fog is dense on the highway, and denser still on the trail, where it dips low towards the marsh and the river. Frosty ground is slick beneath my boots and branches and grasses sparkle white as my light passes over them. I’m thinking about hot coffee, grateful for warm gloves.
I won’t sit long at my halfway point. It’s too cold to write comfortably, and the fog obscures the view. It’s a work day, too, and timing matters.
I’m in a bad mood this morning. My Traveling Partner started my day with his annoyance over some small thing, and I didn’t need that on top of my tinnitus screeching in my ear and this fucking headache, and my arthritis. I keep trying to push past it. Move on. Let it go. It wasn’t my annoyance, after all. Pain sucks, though, and I’m cross about dealing with it. I’m hoping for a relaxed routine work day after a lovely holiday weekend.
I yawn in the cold morning air and see my breath mingle with the fog. It’s time to walk on. It’s time to start the day. It’s time to let small shit stay small and not take other people’s bullshit personally. It’s time to begin again.
Evening Light 