This morning I woke from the kind of rest I generally only daydream of enjoying. I dreamt, sure, wholesome playful surreal dreams with no hint of terror or anxiety. I slept deeply – my sleep tracker even agrees with me. I woke early, yes, but… I woke in a natural way, feeling rested, undisturbed, just finished with sleeping. I even woke feeling alert and “sorted out”, as if indeed my sleep were truly restful, restorative, and refreshing. Nice change of pace after several days of waking groggy and confused from restless anxious dreams and interrupted sleep that seemed wholly inadequate and left me feeling prone to tears or stupid and dull-witted.
I dressed for the day without much thought, gathered up my things, handled what seemed an effortless commute into the city. Made coffee when I arrived at the office, and started my day. Comfortable. Rested. Calm. Content. Even… merry. For real, unforced, gentle background merriment, as if all is well in the world. Realistically, I know its only this tiny slice of the world, this one limited moment, and as with all things, at some point this too will pass. I’m okay with it; I’ve got this here, now. It’s enough.
I feel the soft smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. This is a good beginning to the day. I drink it in, as I drink my coffee, which, rather like the moment, manages to be quite ordinary in all regards, while also quite pleasant. This? Right here? This is the “state of being” I strive for day-to-day: calm, contented, relaxed, easy in my mind, and “merry”. I “feel great” for most values of “feeling”. Yes, I am still having to deal with physical pain – that’s why it’s called “chronic pain”, and there’s not much to do about that besides take care of myself, manage my pain as best I can, and do what I can to limit the control it has over my quality of life, generally. It’s for sure helpful to avoid taking it personally – it isn’t personal. It’s just pain. It sucks, yes, and sometimes it’s hard to pay attention to anything else. That’s just real. It’s also not “everything”. So, this morning, I notice my arthritis pain. My neck pain. My headache. I stand up, have a good stretch and double-check the ergonomics of my workstation. Then I move on with the morning.
I think about my Traveling Partner, sleeping at home, and hopefully continuing to recover from his recent injury. Being injured stresses him out. Him being stressed out stresses me out and drives quite a bit of background anxiety for me; I worry. Certainly it’s a sign of how deeply connected we really are. Nonetheless, it’s the sort of emotional feedback loop that can create a lot of chaos and emotional volatility for both of us. Last evening was pleasant and relaxed, and getting some really good sleep last night finds me feeling stable and resilient. I hope he wakes similarly refreshed, and feeling a sense of healing and progress, in spite of his frustration with being injured. I think over the evening we shared, with a smile in my heart. It reminds me that I’d said I’d go to the store on my way back from the office today – I set a reminder, and make a list.
I breathe. Exhale. Relax. Pull myself upright and feel my back crack in a couple places, which eases some small amount of my discomfort, but also serves to make me more aware of the places where I hurt most, now. lol Funny how that works. I guess it makes sense; what we put our attention on is what dominates our awareness. Pretty obvious when I think about it.
The clock ticks. The day begins. It’s time to begin again.
I’m sitting in my car, waiting for the sunrise to illuminate the trail, preferring not to walk it in the dark. I slept poorly, completely pwnd by my nightmares. My head aches ferociously and I feel as if I am stressed to a breaking point in spite of so recently having a few days away. I find myself on the edge of tears over and over again, and awash in vague feelings of frustration. It’s shitty.
I breathe. Exhale. Regain a sense of calm. Then I lose it again. The experience is very much as if I am completely “disregulated” for some reason. My thoughts come back to this fucking headache. Going on 9 years, in January. No relief. No diagnosis that feels trustworthy or useful. I’m still here, though, that’s something. For now it has to be enough.
The beginning of a sunrise.
My Traveling Partner pings me a greeting. He’s up early. His injured condition is vexing and worrisome for both of us. Worse for him, obviously, living with it. The visit to the ER earlier this week seemed somewhat reassuring but the feeling hasn’t lasted and he’s struggling more than seems reasonable. No doubt this is weighing more heavily on my heart and mind than I was prepared for.
The sun begins to rise and the horizon is on fire with intense reds and oranges, and a hint of pink. It’s gorgeous. I sit watching it evolve over some minutes, half an eye on the trailhead. Soon the path will be light enough to walk quite safely.
I try to let the sunrise be enough. The tears start falling. I let them. I don’t really know what else to do with tears. Right now is hard. Sometimes that’s how things are. The world seems like a pretty terrible heartless place right now, which adds to the feeling of senselessness, futility, and frustration. Subjectively, I feel very alone and ineffective, powerless to prevent this mortal vessel from breaking down, powerless to help my partner, powerless to help my dearest friend. Powerless to change the world. Mortality comes for us all, and these fucking meat suits are more fragile than they seemed in younger years. Fuck.
I cry awhile, sitting here alone, watching the sun rise. Sometimes a sunrise is all we get. Sometimes it has to be enough. I sigh and wipe the tears off my face before I get out of the car to walk this favorite trail. It’s time to begin again.
It’s a rainy Monday. A new work week. I’m back home and the day-to-day routine has recommenced. I’ve got no heartache over that as I sit here after my walk, thinking thoughts and getting ready for the new work day.
A rainy day view.
I breathe, exhale, and relax, taking stock of sensations and emotions. I’ll head home shortly, even though my Traveling Partner hasn’t yet pinged me that he’s up. I need to start the work day.
As if on cue, he pings me, and it’s time to begin again. 🙂
How utterly ordinary this seems. Me, a cup of coffee, a dark early morning awake ahead of the sun… I could have slept in… if I could have slept in. lol I’m not even disappointed; I woke rested and uncertain of the time. By the time I had gotten up to pee and also found a means of checking the time, I was quite wide awake and feeling that a new day had begun. I tried to go back to bed, but that lasted only minutes; I was clearly awake. So. Coffee time. 😀
Once I had made a cup of coffee, I shut off the lights and opened the curtains, the better to see the changing light as day breaks. For now, all is dark and quiet. At home, in the heart of agriculture and rural industries, this is not a particularly early hour. There would be some traffic on the road and the highway, and evidence of businesses preparing to open, most cafes and coffee stops would already be bustling with folks heading to work, or places unknown – even on a Saturday, there’d be some traffic and people coming and going. (It’s not that early, just early enough to still be dark on a December morning.) Here? In a seaside tourist town? It may as well be deserted. Rarely, cars roll down the highway. I see few headlights pass by “out there” beyond the window, beyond the bay, where the highway follows the curves of the hills beyond. No house windows are lit up, yet. No sounds come from other rooms. It’s quiet. Dark, quiet, early, this is still a day filled with promise and not much else quite yet. It’s more than an hour until sun rise.
…Good cup of coffee…
I slept well and deeply last night, and my dreams were untroubled, and unremembered now. Easy night. I hope my Traveling Partner got some rest. I wish him well from afar. As it turns out, this coastal getaway ends up being largely wasted with regard to the primary reason for going in the first place, which was to give my partner room to work. He’s been in pain and not easily able to work at all. Fucking hell. How unfortunate – and how unfair! Nonetheless, this is also time that greatly benefits me directly, and my emotional wellness is bolstered and supported with it. Already paid for, so I make a point to enjoy it, to savor it, and to take advantage of it fully without any guilt or awkwardness. I help him by coming home feeling well and merry, far more than if I rush back anxiously – and wastefully. 🙂
I sip my coffee and reflect on the day ahead. This is my one day on the coast (on this trip) that is not to do with work in any way. I’m free to enjoy the day as I’d like, whatever that means. I don’t yet know. Walk on the beach? Prowl antique shops as yet unexplored? A leisurely brunch somewhere? Laze the day away reading books? Some of all those things? I don’t know. I relish the feeling of luxury that comes of a momentary recognition that if I wanted to, I could just go back to bed and get more sleep. My time is my own, and that feels quite lovely.
I sip my coffee and explore that feeling of luxury. It dawns on me (maybe not for the first time) what a real treat that feeling of my time being my own actually is. Human beings are social creatures. We work and play collaboratively. We create and make and labor in partnerships, teams, groups, and communities. We are industrious as global enterprises. We live as families. My love of solitude is the oddity, not the norm, and in all likelihood it’s a byproduct of my chaos and damage, my trauma, and the resulting lack of enjoyment I take from society, generally… probably. I know my Traveling Partner misses me deeply when I’m away, sometimes to the point of depression. I miss him, too, but… day-to-day, I often find myself missing… this. The solitude. The quiet that allows me more room to “hear myself think”. The stillness that becomes a beautiful space to write, or paint. The freedom to simply be – without disturbing or inconveniencing anyone else with my quirks or my anxiety. So, this morning I merrily raise my coffee mug to the dark sky beyond the window, as if to say “here’s to the luxury of a couple days of solitude!” – if I haven’t “earned” it, nonetheless, I sure do enjoy it. I’m grateful for a partnership sufficiently secure to permit it as often as I do get to enjoy it. I make a point to sit with that gratitude awhile, listening to the ocean waves as the tide comes in.
…This cup of coffee is finished. I make another. I see the note that I left for myself by the coffee machine. It says “go easy on the coffee, you’ll want to sleep later!” A reminder from me to myself. I often do drink too much coffee when I’m indulging myself with some getaway or when I’m camping. It rarely seems to be a problem, the way it definitely is when I’m home living a routine ordinary life of habit and calendar. I have no idea why there’s such a difference. Maybe there isn’t? Maybe it’s an illusion? I consider whether to spend more time on that, and decide it’s unimportant. I make another coffee and move on with my thoughts.
The sky begins to lighten, ever so slightly shifting toward a dark subtly blue gray. The cars on the highway begin to pass in occasional clusters. High tide is still a bit more than two hours away, and will occur well after sun rise, which is only an hour away now. For now, just the earliest hint of dawn appears. The specificity of the language we have to describe these experiences delights me. It’s somehow very telling of the importance to human primates of the coming of a new day, that we can so clearly describe its coming using words, in such detail.
On the highway, across the bay, I see taillights just stopped there. I know that spot – there’s a pull out right there, with access to the mudflats at low tide. There are a trio of large rocks jutting out of the bay near there. The spot is called (on the map) “Freedom Rock”. It’s too dark to go down to the bay from the highway, still. It’s also almost high tide; there’s no where to go (it’s covered with water). I see that car continue to sit, lights on, then shut off the lights. I imagine some other version of me – or some similar sort of individual – sitting there in their car, waiting for enough daylight to go for some walk. It seems familiar and reasonable, and the thought pleases me. I sip my coffee and think my thoughts. I wonder if they will be disappointed when daylight reveals the lack of any point in waiting at that spot? lol
Just barely dawn; a pointless photograph.
The sky is just starting to evolve from the darkness of night to the dim light of dawn. Another few minutes, and it will be possible to take a picture without using night settings. Another cup of coffee will be consumed. My email account will sync and my app notifications will begin pinging me. Day will begin. I’m reminded to take my morning medications, and snarl quietly and not very seriously as I head over to the counter where I left them. “Aging sucks…”
I take time for yoga and meditation, then go downstairs to the breakfast bar adjacent to the lobby for a light bite of breakfast. I’m not overly eager to be out in the world, among people, so perhaps a sit down breakfast in a restaurant is not an ideal choice, this morning? No obligation to be fancy or lavish with my spending, and I’m pretty easily satisfied with a yogurt cup and a toasted English muffin. I turn my eyes toward the window just in time to see the horizon infused with shades of strawberry and peach… I jump to catch a shot of it, stubbing my toe painfully on the way…
The sort of sight worth 4 days in a hotel room.
A minute later and I’d have missed it altogether. The sky has returned to a rather featureless rainy day gray once again. Worth the stubbed toe. Worth 4 days in a hotel room. It was a gorgeous sight and the picture hardly captures it at all. I sip my coffee contemplating which pigments I would choose to capture that view on canvas. If I’d painted such a thing, in such vibrant colors, before seeing this view myself, I would hardly be surprised if someone else seeing that painting assumed I’d taken artistic liberties with the colors. lol
I sigh happily and finish my second cup of coffee, my yogurt, and my English muffin. My Traveling Partner pings me – he’s awake now too. It’s a new day. The sun has risen, though there’s no visible sign of it beside the daylight itself. I’ve still no particular idea what I’ll do with the day, and it has begun to rain softly. Antique stores and books are winning out over beach walks, presently, but the tide will begin to recede sometime after 09:00, plenty of time to consider walking on beaches later on.
Plan or no plan, I find myself ready to begin again. 😀
It’s well into the afternoon. I’m done with work, both the day and the week. I’ve been out onto the beach, eating a picnic lunch (hounded by seagulls) and snapping pictures (at least the seagulls were willing to pose). I’m back to the room, weary and happy, and a bit chilly.
“May I join you…?”
It says something that my fully charged phone is now down to 12% battery after taking pictures of this-n-that as I walked. That’s a lot of pictures. I count 106 photos today, and 4 videos. lol It was a satisfying walk. My tracker says almost 2 miles. I’m okay with that; it’s neither a competition nor is it a race. No trophy. No accolades. Just a couple miles on my boots, and a happy smile. I’ll probably sleep well tonight.
Returning to the warmth and comfort of the hotel room, I swap shoes for slippers, and put on water for a cup of herb tea (I’ve definitely had enough coffee). I put on my headphones, thinking ahead to music or a video, but end up just listening to the enhanced quiet of noise-cancellation (and my tinnitus). I say a silent “thanks!” to my Traveling Partner, who had recommended these particular headphones – the freedom of Bluetooth, combined with comfort and enhanced quiet. I’m a fan.
I forget all about tea, music, and videos, as I flip through the pictures…
The recent storms piled up extra driftwood, and left very little beach (this was shot very near to low tide).
I sign out loud contentedly, each picture bringing back some moment, a sight, a feeling…
Across the channel, the seals gather to nap in the sunshine.
I yawn. Might not make it to that cup of tea at all. A nap is starting to sound good… and I’ve got this book to read… I smile and stretch lazily. I can do what I like. I don’t know yet what that will be. I’ve got options. I suppose I’ll give it a minute, and then… begin again. 😉
