It was early when I got to the trailhead. The rain started, again, as I arrived. It didn’t matter, since the gate was still closed. I sat quietly through the few minutes of waiting, listening to the rain falling, meditating, waiting, drinking coffee I was grateful to have stopped for (what with the waiting and all).
The gate opens now at 05:30 a.m., and daybreak comes much sooner than it did just a few weeks ago. I move the car into the parking lot, up a hill from the couple of spaces outside the gate. It’s still raining, and I’m still waiting. I’m pretty good at waiting.
I sit with my coffee watching the dark rainy night slowly becoming a gray rainy morning, listening to the rain falling steadily, drops tapping on the car. Surely there will be sufficient break in the rain to get a good walk in? I think it over, unperturbed by either potential outcome. I find my mind wandering to my upcoming camping trip and wondering if it will rain there, then, too? I’ll go prepared for it.
My head aches ferociously this morning. My arthritis is also quite painful. Head, neck, back… so much pain. I’m glad it’s Sunday. I can put more time and energy on self-care. There’s still laundry and dishes to do… no doubt other things I am overlooking for the moment. Still, it’s a gentle relaxed morning. I’m contented and pretty merry in spite of pain.
I start the car and give the windshield a swipe with the wipers; it sounds like the rain may have stopped, and I want to “take a closer look” before I get out of the car and put my boots on. It’s just a slow spattering of random occasional raindrops now, suitable for walking…
Once my boots are on, I step onto the gravel trail with a crunch. It’s time to begin again!
A lush and rainy Spring morning
I get back to the car a bit damp, after getting a mile down the trail, and turning back when the rain began falling more steadily, again. The trail along the marsh and riverbank is scented by blooming trees and wildflowers. The rain contributes petrichor and that certain specific freshness of a rainy day. No flocks of geese overhead, but the robins don’t mind the rain, and busily went about the business of finding tasty morsels in the leaf matter and muddy ground along the trail. They watch me as curiously as I watch them.
As I change my boots for sneakers, I think about the day ahead. Already another “benchmark day”, and I have been looking forward to it. Seems a good one for tidying up, too, or helping my Traveling Partner with his projects. Maybe both? I’m not rushing to return home; I know my partner is sleeping and likely had a restless night. I am making a point of giving him time to get some restful sleep before I return home and start making noise. (We’re both fairly light sleepers, prone to being a bit noise-sensitive.)
I sit quietly, contentedly listening to the rain fall, before I begin again… again.
It’s well past dawn. No hint of sunshine or blue skies this morning, just mists and gray clouds and a steady rain.
Waiting for a break in the rain.
I’ve got my boots on, and my rain jacket handy, waiting for a break in the rain sufficient to make walking pleasant. A bit later, walk or no walk, I’ll take the car to the mechanic for the last bit of work needed before my next long trip. It’s a relaxed rainy Saturday, and I’m short on sleep, and in pain. It is what it is. I’m aware of my experience here/now, but also recognize that it isn’t “personal”. it’s just an experience.
I sip my coffee (iced, black, to go), and alternate with sips of water. Waiting. Waiting as the minutes tick by toward the next thing, and listening to the rain fall. Pleasant quiet moments.
…Admittedly, this would be so much more pleasant without the headache and the arthritis pain…
I sit with my thoughts awhile, enjoying the stillness.
It’s a peculiar sort of morning. I slept through to my lights coming on to wake me, which is rare. I woke groggy and stupid, confused about what day it is, and whether I have some major activity planned for the weekend ahead…I felt certain I was forgetting something (I was). Only just now, after a walk through an oak grove shrouded in early morning mist did I remember; I’m taking the car in for some repair work tomorrow morning. lol Nothing critical to know today. Funny that I couldn’t remember.
Morning mist and solitude.
My tinnitus is crazy loud this morning, something like very distant warning klaxons going off, or “shimmery chimes” in a breezy garden… describing it accurately eludes me, though I often want to try. In my left ear, there’s a short morse code “phrase” buried in the static, on the right I hear the backup warning of a construction vehicle and chuckle to myself when I realize I am actually hearing that. I clear my throat, startling myself with how loud that seems.
My thoughts wander. I meditate after I change from my boots back to my shoes. I sit in the early morning stillness, grateful for the quiet moment. The work day will begin shortly. The bustle and fuss of adult tasks and caring for hearth, home, and partner with recommence on the other side of this quiet time. I avoid thinking about how fucking tired I am at the end of these days. I feel encouraged by the progress my Traveling Partner is making and remind myself gently to “hang in there “. I’ve been doing my best, but it often doesn’t feel like enough, and I’m not certain I have it in me to do more/better.
My back is already aching fiercely. I take medication for that, with a sigh and a frown. I don’t like having to rely on Rx pain relief and approach doing so with some reluctance and considerable care. I’m looking forward to the drier summer days ahead, when I rarely need pain medication to manage my day-to-day pain.
…One of the most difficult things to come to terms with after I broke my back years ago was the likelihood that I would deal with chronic, nearly continuous pain for the remainder of my life… but it has proven to be the situation, and “wishing it away” doesn’t work for me nearly as well as facing it, accepting it, and learning coping skills for dealing with it. I try not to let pain call the shots, limit what I do, or prevent me from enjoying my life. My results vary. Some days are better than others. Today I fucking hurt. I’m in a pretty good mood though, and that’s a win.
I breathe, exhale, and relax. I make a point to let go of vaguely vexing miscellany that doesn’t require my attention. This “here and now” moment is pretty pleasant. I take time to enjoy it before I begin again.
I’m enjoying what seems an unusually quiet morning, waiting for enough daylight on a dark rainy morning to make out this trail for a morning walk before work. The rain is a soft misty rain that makes no obvious noise on the windshield. An occasional larger drop falls from the branches hanging over head to land with a splat on the window or roof. The loudest sound I hear this morning is my own tinnitus, interrupted now and then with birdsong.
As the sky lightened from black to deep Prussian blue, the rain began to come down harder. So, I continue to wait, now for a break in the rain…
…The darkness dissipates as the day begins…
Yesterday was lovely. My Traveling Partner and I quietly celebrated our now-13-years married, just hanging out and enjoying each other. More elaborate such celebrations need to wait on his complete recovery from his December injury. Progress feels infernally slow sometimes (I imagine even more so for him, an active man in his prime). I do everything I can – and sometimes push myself beyond my understanding of my limits – seeking to make him more comfortable, and be as helpful as I can in making it easier for him to both rest and heal, and also to stay productive and occupied in a satisfying way. It’s hard sometimes, and I could do a better job of taking care of myself, too. He’s quite helpful there, always considerate of my wellness and likely limits. Good partner, and I am grateful.
…After thirteen years, I am also still very much in love with this man…
The rain makes my back ache fiercely. I add pain medication to my morning medications. It won’t completely resolve the pain I’m in, but it’s certain to help. It’s enough that I should be able to avoid being a bitch because I hurt, and that matters.
I woke too early. My sleep was restless and interrupted. I finally stopped bothering to go back to sleep at 04:00 a.m. – it was just too close to when I’d typically get up anyway, so I got up, dressed, and headed into the office. Based on my mood alone, it’s a good day to go farther… just drive and drive, into the sunrise, and see where the road might take me… It’s a Monday, so that’s not really an option. Work. I remind myself that I’ve got a couple days solo coming up, camping, soon. I hold on to that idea as if with a clenched fist.
Making plans for solo time.
G’damn relationships are fucking hard sometimes. People are complicated and they need so much, and it changes so often! What matters in one moment seems unimportant in another, or in a different frame of mind, or from some other point of view at a different time. Complicate that further with individual trauma and baggage and bullshit, and… yeah… so hard sometimes. People are complicated. Me, too. It’s not reliably easy, this whole “getting along” thing… sometimes not even for lovers or devoted partners. There are verbs involved. Active listening skills to cultivate. Boundaries to set, manage, respect, be aware of. Little courtesies to offer no matter how tired we feel in the moment, or how bad we hurt inside. It gets messy, sometimes – we’re really just fancy fucking primates, with all the same poo-flinging tendencies of our ape and monkey cousins. I guess I should at least appreciate that human primates mostly fling metaphorical poo, verbal poo, and not actual turds, generally speaking.
“Lovers” 10″ x 14″ watercolor on paper 1992
I’m sipping my coffee feeling discontented and moody. I teeter between lingering anger and lingering hurt feelings. I nibble at my breakfast salad with moody disinterest in my health or fitness or frankly any other “hopeful encouraging bullshit” – that’s the kind of mood I’m in. Discouraged. Disappointed. Sad. It’s not a lack of progress; I could be celebrating progress right now, but I just don’t feel like it. I’m mired in my fucking emotional bullshit right now, thanks. I’m still eating this healthy breakfast salad, though. It’s “the right thing to do” in this moment, and I’m not going to give that up just because I’m in a snit over my relationship “difficulties” (relatively speaking, I’ve got it pretty good, and I’m probably being an ass to beef about it in the first place, I’m just in a terrible mood, dealing with lack of sleep and pain, and fucking cranky as hell).
Maybe it looks easy…but…
We more or less got the evening back on track yesterday. Shared dinner together. Watched a couple videos. There are still things we need to talk about, and omg I fucking hate that shit. I dread meaningful serious relationship-building conversations about boundaries and expectations and all-manner of fairly important “taking care of each other” details that so easily turn contentious because humans are human, and feelings are easily hurt. We too easily take too much shit too personally. We make small things over into big things, and do our best to “win” or “be right”, when what might be most productive is simply to listen and care and love each other. I’m not pointing a finger – these are generalities that most assuredly apply to me, too. (I prefer to discuss my own bullshit over anyone else’s bullshit; I know its measure very well, and it’s a helpful bit of introspection, whereas finger-pointing and blame-laying only lay the foundation for some future argument. That’s tedious and a huge waste of limited precious mortal lifetime.)
The smallest tokens of lasting affection can feel huge.
I sip my coffee. Breathe. Munch my salad. Watch gray storm clouds roiling against the background of pale morning sky. Think my thoughts and feel my pain. I think about my Traveling Partner sleeping at home and hope that he finally gets the rest he’s been needing, and struggling to get. Everything feels worse and seems harder when we aren’t getting the sleep we need. I sigh quietly to myself. I’m grateful to have the office alone this morning – I’m not fit company for other people, presently. I haven’t been sleeping well, either.
A token of affection. Love on a chain. The only heart-shaped locket I have ever owned.
I give the day’s work an irritated look. It’s all quite routine, and I am struggling to care and to commit. Lingering malaise and ennui and irritation are vexing me, and I’m struggling to let it go. There’s a reason non-attachment is a practice; it takes quite a bit of practicing. I pick the last leaf of arugula off my plate and drag it around in the last drops of vinaigrette with a total lack of regard for forks or good manners before I eat it and set my plate aside. It can be so hard to “make space” for my feelings, to feel them, process them, and proceed to “do what’s right” nonetheless – assuming I have a good idea of what I think “right” may be in this moment in the first place. I breathe, exhale, relax, and try again to just let this shit go, properly, and move on – to allow myself to separate yesterday’s painful moment from necessary future (loving, nurturing, productive) conversations about needs, boundaries, and expectations. I sigh, and remind myself that relationship building is effort and work and commitment and also love. It’s so easy to tear down relationships (and people), and so much more worthwhile to do something to build instead – in spite of how much harder that often feels (is?).
What could be more worthy of study than communication? Even though we are each having our own experience, we are all in this together.
I give myself a minute with my thoughts and my coffee, before I begin again. I know my results will vary – but I also know that love matters most, and that we become what we practice. I definitely need more practice at deep listening, and communicating, and boundary-setting, and setting clear expectations, and being fearlessly open… and I know I can begin again, and keep practicing.
Sharing the love, and sharing the building. Destruction is far less joyful.
Evening Light 