I woke too early. I got into town earlier than necessary, filled with first day eagerness. I love this feeling! First days hold so much promise, and seem infused with the glow of future successes.
I start the morning with coffee, of course.
… Okay, Boomer… 😂
It was easy to find parking this morning. A fortuitous start to the day. I walked through a wee park on my way to the only cafe in the neighborhood that was already open. As I said, I’m here too early. lol
The ducks don’t mind my presence.
Where does this path lead, I wonder? Seems like a very nice day for beginnings. I guess I’ll finish this coffee and begin again. 😁
I’m mostly over my recent bout of whatever miserable illness struck me (and my Traveling Partner, and step-son). I’ve got a lingering cough, which frankly is no surprise to me – it’s nearly always the outcome of any sort of respiratory illness for me. It’s a byproduct of damage incurred from a combination of childhood illness and military injuring (those oil fires did me no good). It’ll pass, just takes me a bit longer than it otherwise might.
The new job starts tomorrow. Exciting. There’s ongoing forward momentum with my Traveling Partner’s business, too. It feels wonderful to support that, and even to help. Today I took next steps getting an Etsy page set up (almost done with that…). One thing at a time. Like any journey, it’s about next steps and incremental progress over time. I think about other details that I can add to the new page… a friendly shop-video walking future customer’s through our shop, and sharing our thoughts about how we make products, and what inspires us, maybe? Additional listings. Things like that – basic stuff.
…A lot of life’s richness and complexity is built on very basic stuff. That seems worth thinking about…
I sit in the studio, with the fragrances of scented shower fizzies filling the room. I am reminded that there are a couple more scents I meant to make batches of this weekend… cucumber-melon, lavender (a favorite), and something that smells like a rainy autumn walk. So many luscious scents to delight me in the shower – I want to make them all! The new batches of chocolate-orange and meadow flowers are lovely. (I find myself wondering if it’s too soon to take another shower, already…?)
In spite of the lingering hints that I’ve been ill recently, I’m enjoying the weekend with my Traveling Partner. Some video gaming. Some video watching. Some cooking. Some laundry. Some crafting and making. Nothing fancy – all of it’s been very “basic” quiet living sort of stuff… but… isn’t that what life is built upon? The small delights? The everyday pleasures? The time and care taken on things that are utterly routine? Life’s lasting adventure is built on small steps forward, not so much the grand gestures or big moments – those are rare, which is fitting for the way they hit our consciousness so much harder in spite of how fleeting they truly are. I find so much value in being present in the small moments and the basic stuff. I savor this one, with my now-cold coffee long-forgotten on the edge of my desk, just one sweet pleasant moment of so many… it’s too easy to overlook how many lovely moments there really are, if I am constantly rushing from one “big deal” to another, without pausing for breath.
…I pause for breath…
Life isn’t “perfect” (see the opening paragraph; I’m still not 100% over being sick, for starters, and on top of that I was born a human primate, so… there’s that). It’s not bad though. Hell, it’s better than bad… it’s good. I sit here smiling quietly. This is enough. More than enough. This is pretty fucking sweet, generally speaking, and I’m contented and sometimes even actually “happy”. That’s a very subjective condition, and it stymies me how similar circumstances are across the entirety of my life – there were a lot of moments in which I could have been far happier than I actually was, but… I wasn’t. At this point, I think that was (in many cases) as much because I just didn’t know how to be that thing we call “happy”, every bit as much as it had anything to do with the specifics of my life in that moment. Kind of a lot, actually. How peculiar. I can’t go back in time and “fix that”… but… you know what I can do? Revisit some of those moments through my recollections, and enjoy that moment then from my perspective of now. I don’t mean to suggest that I’m griefing myself over how I felt at that time – no good would come of that. I’m just taking time to recall something pleasant, doing so in great detail, and also letting go of any lingering baggage that may have become attached to that time, place, or relationship, and just… enjoying what I can about that time, then. It tends to reduce the lasting misery of miserable times, by undercutting the memory of the misery, and giving a wee boost to the memories of joy, however brief, fleeting, or impotent they seemed then. Worthwhile.
I pause again, this time to cough. It’s time to begin again. Some hot tea, perhaps…?
I’m starting the day grateful. Feels like I’m finally over this cold, and my interview yesterday went very well. I may be back to work quite soon… interesting to contemplate. The morning began relatively well, and I find myself in a good mood, feeling contented and somewhat merry. Hopeful. Steady. Centered. A good beginning to the day, indeed.
I’ve got my second cup of coffee and a bit of time until my next call (a follow-up with the hiring manager for the company I interviewed with yesterday). I sat down expecting I’d write awhile, but I am finding I’ve little to say. It’s a good moment for observation and for presence… but I’ve little to say about it. I am here. The moment is now. It’s enough.
…In a moment like this one, there’s no need to rush headlong into the next moment. I sit quietly with my coffee and my thoughts, until it is properly time to begin again.
I’m sipping my coffee and taking a break from reviewing an unexpectedly long list of new opportunities to consider. It’s a Monday, and for now the “new normal” in my work day is about looking for new work.
An earlier than necessary start feels consistent with an adult lifetime of working, and both gives me a leg up on the day, and an opportunity to slip out of the house well-before my Traveling Partner awakens. Ideally, this let’s him sleep in a bit, and that thought fills me with joy. (Human primates need to be able to rest even at the best of times, and we’ve both been ill for days and earnestly need as much rest as we can get.) Rest is not exclusively about sleep, though, and I make a point to take a short break from compiling job leads and catching up on various other job search tasks. I take a short walk around the block in the morning air under a soft gray rather featureless sky, then sit down to write – with a fresh cup of coffee.
I sip my coffee and sigh quietly out loud in this co-work space that will soon no longer be available. It’s hard to make a small business thrive in tough economic times. The shifting culture with regard to work, and whether that is in-office or remote work for many roles that lack a clear actual need to be “on site” for some legitimate business purpose, makes operating a co-work space a less than ideally secure business prospect in a small town, and the one I frequent is closing. For me, the convenience of a co-work space near to home has been a handy luxury that I appreciate – I’ll be sad to lose it.
I take a moment for gratitude – for this convenient space, and also for the ease with which I’ll be able to pivot to a different approach, a new routine, a new normal, after this final week in this quiet place. I’m fortunate. I’ve got a career that works well with remote work, and an approach to work that allows me considerable flexibility personally as to whether I work in-office or remotely in the first place. I’ve got a partnership at home that supports my freedom to choose from my options in the fashion that best suits me at the time, and a partner that “gets it” about why I might choose one thing or another. I enjoy another sip of my still-hot second cup of coffee as I reflect upon my good fortune, knowing it may not last, enjoying it while it does.
One of the challenges, for me, on life’s journey, has been finding myself distracted from “here and now” by yearnings for… something else. It’s not particularly helpful to become mired in what isn’t on this journey from where I am to where I will be later on. It’s a bit like trudging through ankle deep sticky mud; it may not stop me from making progress, but it will surely slow that progress considerably more than if I were simply moving forward on my path, step by step, with presence, care, and commitment. “Be here, now” is a powerful recommendation and reliably good starting point for a new beginning. “We become what we practice”, and there is a notable difference between desperate yearnings to become or to transform, and actual practices that result in authentic changes – and real progress toward a goal. Then, too, there’s the goal-less forward momentum of honest self-evaluation, freed from the constraints of the expectations and demands of others – which also grinds to a halt when I find myself mired that sticky mud of yearning to be something or someone else. “Yearning” hasn’t seemed to get me very far in life. It’s a peculiar sort of getting in my own way, by setting up the dream of something better, investing deeply in fantasies of that dream, and then… being frustrated that the dream never comes to life, all without noticing that the time spent dreaming the dream is at the expense of taking any actions to proceed down a path that could actually lead in that direction. Most peculiar. “Yearning” is interesting as verbs go; it seems to prevent actual action. I sip my coffee and consider it further.
…And here I am, at 60, still wondering what I want to be “when I grow up” lol…
…There is time to slow down, and enjoy the day. Time to write. To enjoy another coffee.
I don’t spend much time yearning these days. I don’t want for much. It’s less about “having it all” (hell, right now with no job and limited cash-flow and savings, I’m particularly alert to how finite my resources are), more to do with approaching life from a position of perspective, mindfulness, and sufficiency. It could be so much worse. I’m not yearning for fame or power or wealth. I’m content with living simply, with having enough, and I find adequate joy in the small things that work for me. I’ve got enough bullshit and baggage to work on without creating more headaches for myself by chasing other people’s daydreams for what I could have or who I could be. Yearning doesn’t fit into my day plan. LOL Still… Gnothi seauton. Self-reflection is a worthy endeavor. Getting lost in a labyrinth of yearnings seems less so.
I sip my coffee thinking about “being”. It isn’t always easy facing the woman in the mirror and some of her difficult questions (or painful accusations and burdensome disappointments). Reliably, however, I’ve found it far easier to make progress if I am making where I presently stand (and who I authentically am) as my starting point on any new beginning. Going from “here” to “there” is definitely simpler when I understand where “here” is.
…Funny thing… and a serendipitous coincidence… these themes are deeply explored in the sci-fi “space opera” that my Traveling Partner and I have been enjoying together while we’ve been ill. Babylon 5. Being vs yearning. Power and the consequences of seeking it. The corrupting influence of greed. The importance of love and compassion. Our very human journey of self, over the course of a lifetime. The heroic and the mundane, and this very human journey we call life. I’m sure immersing myself in the skillfully created fictional universe of Babylon 5 has done much to infuse my self-reflection with additional depth… posing new or old questions that very much want to be, if not answered, at least well-considered. So… I consider them. I consider me. I consider this moment in my journey, and where I presently stand with myself. I consider life and love and partnership. I consider what matters most, and how best to serve my mortal purpose.
I consider. I ponder. I muse. I wonder. I sip my coffee and prepare to begin again.
I am here, now, this moment, this place. I very much want to be… somewhere. Else? I leave myself a note for later, “Write about being vs yearning.” I move on with my day.
January 30th, 2022
I wrote those words at the end of last year, saved it as a draft thinking I’d mull it over and reflect on the feeling further, over time. I had no idea that the time it would require would be 573 days, or that so much would happen in the time since then. The feeling itself was so vague it was hard to ascertain “what it meant” – or how “seriously” to take it. I felt it so deeply I was filled with an urgency to act… somehow. I guess, as I continue to reflect now, it doesn’t seem so surprising that since then I’ve walked on from two different jobs (under peculiarly similar circumstances that weren’t to do with me directly in any useful way). I’ve also put more attention and love into my garden. I’ve put more study, practice…and frustration… into my relationship with my Traveling Partner… More presence into other relationships (if not more time)… More commitment into my self-care… More work and fond effort into my life, generally, I suppose… More attention on my health and fitness. I don’t see, from this vantage point now (with a head cold on a summer Saturday evening, filled with ennui… and snot), that all this change, and effort, and… interesting chaos… has done much to take me further than where I sit right now. I chuckle to myself; human vanities and limited human perspective are what they are. I’m very human. I sip my mug of hot water, grateful that it feels so soothing (and strangely satisfying).
I suppose the tl;dr of the day-to-day recently is that I’ve been sick with this ick for about a week, and mostly resting and hanging out with my Traveling Partner (who had been sick himself, but is now mostly well, hanging out and caring for me while I get over it, too). Haven’t felt much like writing. Haven’t felt up to it. Haven’t felt inspired to share my vapid rather pointless stream-of-consciousness dithering and mental chatter. Just sick. Just hanging around using up tissues, forcing fluids, and napping. It’s been a surprisingly pleasant (and sometimes deep) few days, watching a favorite old sci-fi series together and talking. I’ve been fussy and sometimes unpleasant or unfit to be around – this one has hit me hard in the cognitive places, and my emotions are volatile and unsteady at times. My Traveling Partner loves me fiercely in spite of it, and it’s been good to see his deeply worried face begin to give way to mild impatience that I’m still sick, as I begin to improve. It’s hard to bear witness to a loved-one’s suffering. We’re both less worried as I improve.
…But, now that I’m “mostly over it”, I’m beginning to feel fussy and impatient with myself. It’s easy to become frustrated with how sick I still am feeling. I shrugged it off a few moments ago, and took a seat in my studio, to write for the first time since the last time. (August 17th, 9 days ago) Not knowing quite where to begin, I looked over my drafts. Found this one, which seemed both relevant, prescient, just a little comical – and a whole lot human – and figured this is as good a place to begin again as any other.
So I begin. Again. I sip my water, and consider my thoughts.
Life is calling. Take your chances. What matters most?
It’s been an interesting time, these past 3 weeks or so. Losing my job has been the least interesting thing about it. More interesting was the visit by my Traveling Partner’s son, and the couple of days at home alone that resulted from the camping trip my partner took with him. More interesting were the projects they did together in the shop, and the evenings of playing a new (to me) dice game that resulted from it. More interesting was the dinner party with my partner’s older brother and his family, in our home – our first actual family dinner as a group together (it was lovely and a lot of fun). More interesting was taking my step-son to breakfast and then going to the beach his last day in town before returning home. Hell, even waking up to discover I’d caught this damned cold, the morning I took my step-son to the airport was more interesting by far than losing my job. lol All of it also more “important” – more real. Lived experience. Life. I’ve been enjoying that so much of my time is my own.
I sip my water and remind myself to make a point to stay aware of this detail as I consider other employment; it feels good to live my life, not just frustratedly snatch this minute or that one to wedge it in between work shifts or tasks.
…It’s a metaphor…
I look over my recent pictures. I’m reminded of this or that project. Some commitments I’ve forgotten while being sick return to my awareness (I’m obviously getting well… LOL). I keep sipping this mug of hot water, thinking my thoughts.
…I’m almost out of tissues in here. It’s clearly time to begin again.
