I’m sipping my morning coffee and reflecting on recent thoughts after a lovely early morning walk. I hit the trail shortly before sunrise, in the pre-dawn twilight. It was chilly, but I knew hot coffee would be waiting for me on the other side.
The starting point of a favorite trail.
I walked, alone with my thoughts, watching the slow changes as dawn unfolded into a new day. I watched an interestingly apropos video yesterday evening, and I thought about the insights shared. Aside from the Autumn chill, it was a lovely morning for walking.
I returned home after a time, and got myself sorted out to commence the work day. My coffee was already made, and waiting for me. My Traveling Partner, awake when I got up, had returned to bed to get some more sleep. I quietly headed to the studio – my office – and set up for work, managing to do so without disturbing my partner’s rest, apparently, and I contentedly listen to him snoring softly on the other side of the wall adjacent to the bedroom. I feel contented and relaxed. No idea what the remainder of the day will hold, but this bit right here? Quite lovely and peaceful.
I sigh contentedly, sip my coffee, and start the work day.
I am sipping my first coffee. It’s quite late in the morning on a Sunday. Feels like a lazy day, but I’m in the studio, after a lovely walk on a misty morning. The marsh trail is closed for the season. The all-year trail is still open, and quite lovely. The trees are wearing Autumn colors, and the migrating flocks of birds entertained me with their murmurations as the dawn became day.
Walking Autumn trails.
My Traveling Partner is in his creative space, printing parts, re-assembling a 3D printer, and doing his thing. I’m in my studio, in a similarly creative mental space. This morning my head is filled with art and meaning, connections and inspiration. I am thinking about the past – and the future. I am listening to music that connects those elements of my life in an entertaining way; Cyberpunk. This Billy Idol album came out in 1993 – well-before I had a computer on my desk, myself. I had read my share of William Gibson, of course, but pc’s were not yet commonplace and “smartphone” wasn’t even a word yet. I had yet to form the future friendships that would come to rely on internet connectivity to sustain them over time. Listening to Cyberpunk now, it has a lot of peculiarly prescient elements that now seem almost mundane and just a little “so what?” I find that quite interesting. It remains one of my “forever favorite” albums. My favorite track? Probably Adam in Chains… I think back on “that time”, and find myself wondering how I didn’t “pick up on” the value of mindfulness and a serious meditation practice then…? How did it take me so long to get here? I remember listening to Adam in Chains with my headphones on, or alone at home with the stereo cranked up, stressed to a breaking point, drifting deeper into a meditative state following the flow of the music…finding temporary peace. It wasn’t a practice, just a moment.
…Listening now, it lifts me and lifts me, and I feel a wholeness and contentment and joy, although the lyrics and music are not of a happy place or time…
I could have come farther, faster, sooner if I had made the connection, perhaps… It’s a complicated journey. I took some detours and some dead-end paths. I’m not even sure I regret those, knowing what I know now; it’s been a life well-lived. There’s no knowing which small detail, changed, would change all the rest. Would I give up even one friendship formed later to have healed sooner? I don’t think that’s a choice I’d want to make. If finding mental health, wellness, and emotional stability would have come sooner, but at the cost of never making the acquaintance of my Traveling Partner…? Would I have chosen sanity over love? I don’t know that I would, given a chance to make an informed choice. Love is pretty splendid.
Art inspired by life, new work in progress waiting for attention.
I tinker while I sip coffee and write. I pause the music when my Traveling Partner pops in to show me newly printed parts from the new 3D printer – pretty amazing stuff, and I delight in both the quality of the results and his obvious satisfaction. I re-connect the Bluetooth antenna to my desktop computer in order to pair the Cricut; it’s a pain in the ass to balance my laptop on my knees in the studio, when I could be using my desktop computer for the design work so much more conveniently, and it’s been holding me back a bit. The beat pounds in my ears as I type. My coffee is still warm, and well-prepared. It’s a good day for art and play and love – I feel inspired.
I’m a slow learner. I mean, I’m often “quick to understand”, but it can take a surprising amount of time and repetition before something I’ve been exposed to as an idea actually becomes part of my enduring thinking. I need a lot of repetition, and practice. Which is sort of good, from the perspective of potentially protecting me from succumbing to momentarily appealing dumb shit, but it also kind of sucks, because it just takes a long fucking time to get even long-studied knowledge past my impulse control challenges or resistance to change. Pretty human, honestly. It frustrates me. I’m thinking about it.
This Hallowe’en season I succumbed to my impulsivity with regard to noshing on goblin snacks far more often than is heathy for me. I did notice (that’s not nothing). It was definitely not “good for me” – and I’m making a point of paying attention to it. I found myself vexed by my impulsivity once or twice, even as I popped a tasty sweet into my mouth that I didn’t even actually want. Wild. Thought-provoking. So. I was thinking about it and found my way around and about to asking myself a couple questions pre-sweet, and mentally insisting that I ask & answer, every time. Every temptation (food-wise, I mean):
1. Do I need it to survive?
2. Do I need it to sustain my current activity level?
3. What need does this try to satisfy?
4. Is there a healthier or more nutritionally suitable choice?
It may seem rather facile or silly – or just fucking obvious. It also worked (for me). I more or less immediately cut out the nibbling or grazing on sweets (the sugar is really not good for me). Feels like a win. I’m hoping to hold on to this bit of progress, and maybe see where it takes me. Small wins matter a lot more than we tend to give them credit for. 😀
…Time passes too quickly to wait for New Year’s Day to make a change!..
It’s a big day, today – just a Saturday, but a new business machine makes its way into the shop tooling today. I can tell my Traveling Partner is excited. He’s practically vibrating with anticipation. I’m excited, too; I have “a thing” for interesting machines.
…The machine arrives. My partner confirms it when I ask. There it is on the dining table, quite real, sitting there after the initial unboxing, taking up space (it’s not yet a familiar sight). My partner asks me to bring him his smaller flashlight, and to open the curtains for better light, and for help with picking up the packing material that is strewn about. I open the curtains, bring the flashlight, and pick up the packing material (putting it back into the shipping box, just in case there’s any reason it may need to go back). I get back to my own doings, and these musings, shortly afterward… it’s a pleasant day for another cup of coffee, so I made one. But… it’s pretty late in the day (after 4 pm), and I’m probably more thirsty than truly wanting a coffee, so I also get a big glass of ice water, and wander back to my studio. I quickly find myself drinking the water, ignoring the coffee.
…Which brings me back to those damned questions! LOL
A full moon setting one recent frosty morning.
It’s never too late to begin again. I mean, if there’s life left to live, there are choices and opportunities ahead. Don’t like things as they are? Do something differently. Maybe it won’t change the world, but it can certainly change your experience of it. 😀 Sometimes, that’s enough.
…I didn’t say any of it is easy. Some of the questions are hard questions. Sometimes I don’t like the answers. Sometimes the choices are complicated. Sometimes the opportunities seem limited. Sometimes I feel trapped by my circumstances (although often it’s only my own thinking holding me back). I just keep at it. I mean… what else?
I take a sip of my rare 3rd coffee, and recall a time in my life when I pretty much drank coffee all day, from the first cup after waking, until I finished a final after dinner coffee sometime much later. I had coffee at my desk while I worked, and coffee in my canteen (when it should have been water). I had a favorite mug at home, and a favorite table in the nearest cafe in every town I lived in as an adult. It’s not about the coffee. It took me awhile to understand that. It’s always been about the moment, and coffee just happened to be the handy vehicle for living it, for me personally. The obvious reason to take a break. The good excuse to sit down for a minute. The excellent opportunity to get together with friends. The very mundane process I could use to anchor myself to reality in a moment of emotional crisis.
This is an excellent cup of coffee. It’s a very pleasant moment. I breathe. Exhale. Relax. I’m here. Now. It’s a good place and time to be this woman I’ve become over the years. I’m good with it. It’s enough.
So… about that next new beginning…? I wonder where this path leads?
I was walking a dark trail before dawn on a foggy misty morning and came upon a solitary woman, also walking. As she approached me in the mist, I recognized her stride and her visage; she appeared to me to be some timeless other version of myself. She walked easily, neither young nor aged. Her steps were as confident as if it were fully daylight, relaxed and easy. She wore faded denim jeans that fit her well , and a knee length wool coat which she wore open, over a white cotton blouse. She wasn’t lean or heavyset, but wore womanly curves over muscle I knew must be there; she radiated strength. In fact, she had a subtle glow, as if illuminated from within.
As we approached each other on the path she looked me over. No laugh lines defined her expression, no frown lines distorted her gaze. She had a certain eternal seeming calm, marred by a slightly world-weary smile, barely hinted at, and a tired look in her eyes. She halted her progress and took an easy seat on a fence rail as I neared her, watching me.
As I drew closer, I realized she was carrying a thermos of something steaming hot, though I hadn’t seen it in her hand before. She nodded at me and extended the other hand in my direction; a paper coffee cup. “Coffee?” She asked in a voice very much familiar to me. I accepted the offer silently. It didn’t seem the time to speak.
We sat side by side on the fence rail in the predawn mist. She set down the thermos, or so I figured must have been the case, and began picking out a poignant tune on a guitar I hadn’t noticed her carrying. “Destination”, I said. “You know it?”, she asked without looking up. “The Church”, I replied, “1988?” I wondered out loud. She smiled back and played on, humming softly as if trying to remember something. “… It’s not a religion, it’s just a technique…” she sang, softly, looking into my eyes. She played on, as we sat waiting for the dawn.
The song, and my memories, unfolded as the sky began to lighten ever so slightly. Shapes in the mist began to be more defined. “It’s like the theme from Mahogany, isn’t it?” she asked with a smile, “an important question wants an answer.” I turned to answer her…
In the pale gray mist of dawn, I sat alone on a fence rail, chilly fingers jammed into the pockets of my faded denim jeans. The world was silent around me. I listened to the music in my head and slow tears slid down my face.
I woke from a sound sleep and my strange dream when the room brightened with my silent alarm. It was morning. Not yet dawn. I dressed and headed out for a walk on a misty foggy morning, without a clear destination, alone with my thoughts. .
It’s been a good weekend. Leisurely. Productive. Romantic. Merry. Casual. Relaxed. All around good weekend, still in progress…
My Traveling Partner left me love notes all over the house, recently. I haven’t taken them down.
I’ve gotten some housekeeping done. Cooked a good breakfast. Made a memorable lunch. Found tasty options for evening meals. I’ve also hung out, feet up, reading or writing. Made a batch of pickles from garden-grown veggies (including some delightful round lemon-yellow cucumbers). Made a batch of chocolate chip cookies (with walnuts). Enjoyed hours of my Traveling Partner’s thoughts and observations. Enjoyed loving him and being loved in return.
Love doesn’t have to be fancy or elaborate or exotic.
It’s been a good time to share with this human being I so love. I reflect gratefully on how fortunate I am (we are). I breathe. Exhale. Relax. I smile at him, though he’s occupied with his own thoughts and doesn’t notice. He’s vexed with new hardware. I remind myself that his frustration is nothing to do with me and let it go; he’ll ask if he wants my help.
…Right on cue, he asks me a question about a similar scenario I’d recently-ish experienced on an entirely different laptop. My recollection isn’t really helpful in any direct way, although he’s appreciative nonetheless. He knows I’m writing, and that asking me questions breaks my focus and my flow. I keep myself alert for his remarks in my direction as well as can, while also trying to let the emotion roll off me – it’s not “for me” or “about me”, and doesn’t have to be part of my experience in any practical way.
I think about a recent walk. It was incredibly satisfying and lovely. I went a bit farther than usual, at a slightly better pace. I’m working at improving my fitness, it’s just slow going. This particular walk was extra nice because it seemed I had arrived at the park first among visitors, and had the trails to myself for the entire walk, arriving back at the car just in time to see someone else pull in. It’s rare to have that kind of real peace an solitude, even for a few minutes, especially in a public place. I soaked it in. I savored it. I am thinking of it even now, days later.
Solitude as a perspective on a sunny Autumn morning.
It’s a funny sort of weekend. It hasn’t been “effortless” – no “freebies”. The crap in the news has triggered me more than once. It’s been rough here and there. I’ve worked at these joys and these precious moments. Still… in most ways, I think I can say with some pleasure and contentment that I’m… happy. Life feels pretty good. Small shit mostly stays small. I’m human. I’ve got my baggage. I’m prone to the bullshit with which I continue to struggle, but it’s not out of the range of “normal” human experience, I suppose. I’m okay with it. I get by.
…Practicing the practices…
…I’m not in this shit alone. That’s something. I’ve got friends and this delightful Traveling Partner of mine. I’ve got work, and purpose, and a sense of style. lol Feels good. I feel… whole. It hasn’t always been that way. I take a minute to enjoy the moment. Lo-Fi playing in the background. An atmosphere of calm joy. It’s nice.
I think I’ll “stay awhile”… soon enough it’ll be time to begin again. 😉
Evening Light 