I woke later than usual. No alarm. Sunday. I woke feeling genuinely better for the first time in many days. I got up, dressed, and slipped out of the house quietly.
[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]
It’s been awhile since my Traveling Partner had a chance to sleep and wake without my (sometimes uncomfortable) presence first thing. I also prefer to wake alone and get myself together before I have to deal with people. Yes, even my beloved. I hope he sleeps in, and enjoys waking slowly.
I’m probably not yet up to a long walk, so I make a shopping list and head up the highway to a favored grocer to pick up a few things. I grab coffee on the way. I take my time with things. This is that delicate time between being ill and being entirely well where a morning of exertion could easily result in a relapse and days more being sick. I am taking my time. There’s no reason to rush.
Autumn is all around. I enjoy seeing the fall colors everywhere. I’m eager to take my recollections into the studio with me and paint thoughts of autumn, seasons, and change. A steady rain has been falling. My arthritis pain is well-managed and not vexing me. Good day to paint.
I breathe, exhale, and relax. I finish my coffee and check my shopping list. It’s already time to begin again.
I’m feeling better. Enough better to really enjoy a walk in the chilly autumn air before dawn. Refreshing like a cold drink of ice water on a hot day.
[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]
It is cold, though. Above freezing, but only barely. I’m grateful for this warm sweater and the fleecy cardigan I added to that as I left the house this morning. The cold manages to feel more refreshing than anything else. I’m glad to resume my morning walk. It just “feels right”. I definitely needed the rest I got from taking a break from my walking for a handful of days. I’m glad I yielded to my Traveling Partner’s strong recommendations that I stay home, get some rest, and give myself a break.
When I am sick, one of the things that is notably impaired is my judgement, along with my impulse control. In other relationships, this has lead to things like me going out in a snow storm to take a city bus to the closest location of a specific fast food chain at my then-partner’s behest, in spite of being feverish and struggling to breathe when I had the latest hideous strain of flu. It sounds ridiculous without any embellishments or storytelling strategies. I was so sick I was having to sleep sitting up – but my fucking partner still sent me out in a snowstorm for a fucking cheeseburger. I very nearly missed the last bus back before the roads were shut down and the buses stopped running completely.
…He complained that the burger was cold by the time I got it home to him…
I sigh to myself. I didn’t even understand at the time that I was being taken advantage of, which still feels more than a little embarrassing, now.
I’m grateful to enjoy a relationship with a partner who looks out for me, now. Being cared for truly feels really good. I’m always looking for ways to return the favor. Partnership; we’re in it together.
The weekend is coming. I’d take off on my own and give my beloved a break from having me around so much while I’m sick, but I did that last weekend. We don’t have it like that. Besides, I’d probably do well not to rush myself back into the full measure of work and busy-ness, immediately. I sit at the halfway point of my walk thinking it over. A short work day today makes sense. Maybe a gentle weekend close to home, and time in the studio, or reading quietly? Coffee with my Traveling Partner, over conversation about our radios, perhaps? Quiet and gentle sounds good.
The cold morning nudges back to my feet. It’s some time before sunrise, and there’s only a hint of daybreak to be seen. I’ve got a busy (short) day ahead… May as well begin again, and get started on it. This path won’t walk itself!
After a pretty poor night’s sleep, I got up early, my usual time. My Traveling Partner woke me, to ask if I would mind going ahead and getting up and starting my day, so he could sleep. I hadn’t slept well, but he hadn’t slept at all. I mumble “sure” and sit up.
[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]
I was dressed and gone in 15 minutes.
I was groggy and still a bit stupid as I left the house. I wasn’t sure what I’d do; not yet fit to resume my early morning walks, although mostly over being sick. I stop at the gas station and fill my tank, yawning. I drive to the local trail I favor, and park where the street lights won’t shine in my eyes and nap in the car awhile. I could have taken a seat indoors, at the Big Chain Coffee location nearest me, but I wasn’t up to dealing with people. Not yet. Too early.
My night was fragmented. My sleep was poor quality. The two hours I napped in the car were more restful than most of my sleep that preceded them in the past 24 hours. I wake to the first hints of daybreak. I’m feeling adequately rested, but still not fully recovered from being ill. I yawn and stretch, and give myself time to really wake up.
The food truck that shows up for the construction workers building the hotel on the other side of the parking lot is open for business. I stand in the queue, in the chill of the autumn darkness waiting my turn. A breakfast taco and a cup of coffee, $8.50. The coffee is not quite “bad”, but definitely also not good. It’s strong and it’s hot, though, and it warms my hands through the paper cup. I return to the warmth of the car.
… I’m betting I don’t have a full day of work in me, and mentally juggle the elements of my day with an eye for an early out.
I sigh to myself. Meditate. Write a bit. It’s not a fancy routine, but it works for me. I dislike being sick, it nearly always breaks my routines. Did I remember my computer? Yep, there it is. Computer glasses? Got ’em, no problem. Tissues? Power brick? Yep. I’m ready. I chuckle realizing I did forget to bring along a bite for lunch. I shrug to myself, thinking “it’s always something”.
A new day, a new beginning.
Daybreak comes, a hint of blue at the edge of the eastern horizon. The background noise fills with construction sounds. Machinery. Trucks. Shouted exchanges of information and instructions. I twist in my seat and stretch, as I yawn. The clock ticks on. I hope my beloved is getting the rest he needs.
I reflect for a few moments more, not on any one detail, more on the general ebb and flow of emotions, the changing season, the tick of the clock. I let my mind wander a bit.
I decide to head over to the library, to start catching up on what I missed yesterday. I can even get some work done, using the WiFi there, from their parking lot. And anyway, it’s time to begin again.
I woke after many hours of deep sleep feeling – something. I’m not quite finding words for it yet.
[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]
I haven’t looked at the news this morning. I know what I would find: shocking violence, school shootings, political chaos, grossly unethical behavior by people who should know better, children killed by their mothers, women killed by their partner or ex, whole families killed by a parent, whole ethnicities being eradicated for vengeance or profit… It’s bad out there. I don’t need to read the news; this shit isn’t new. Human primates can be pretty awful.
In the meantime, platforms try to tidy things up by demonitizing creators who dare to be clear and frank (by using words like “rape”, “suicide”, or “BDS”). Forcing creators to use weird substitutes like “grape” for rape, or discussing people “un-aliving” themselves instead of a serious discussion of suicide, brings a certain ridiculousness to the conversation that is distracting. (I think that’s the point.) It may not get discussed at all.
…If we can’t see it, it isn’t there? That’s how a baby’s mind operates. Don’t give up your recognition of object permanence. Don’t allow the powerful to rob you of your ability to think critically! We can do better…
I sigh to myself, waiting for the library to open. There’s no point looking at the news right now, for another reason. It is election season, and frankly I plan to vote based on my thoughts and values, not whatever slop is being forced into news feeds. When billionaire platform and media owners can shove a bunch of cash towards their preferred outcome, very little political “news” can be trusted at all.
I breathe , exhale, and relax. The best I can do for myself, my family, my community, and the world, is to be the best version of myself that I can, and to continue to grow and improve. Also – vote. Our votes really do matter. Take it seriously. Vote for ethical candidates who seem most qualified to govern wisely. Stop voting for geriatric shitheads, grifters, and rapists. We’d all be having a better time if our government was stable, and operating efficiently in the hands of people wise enough to govern. Choose wisely.
Another sigh. A few minutes of meditation. A weird mood on an ordinary Tuesday. Sounds very human. I guess I’ll begin again.
I can smell the ocean, and the briny muddy scent of Siletz Bay, in the darkness beyond the balcony. I hear voices down on the beach, and on the adjacent balconies, hidden from view. This was unexpected. The “how was your day, how was therapy?” conversation turned into my beloved sharing some deals on coastal hotel rooms… and a question to answer; would I like to take off for a night (or two) and grab some solo time to paint? Well… fuck yeah,
[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]
The view of the bay. long exposure.
The drive was unmemorable, which, I guess, is a good thing. Could be worse. I’m here, now. It is evening. I pause as I get ready for bed – long drinks of cold water, deep breaths of ocean air balcony door thrown wide to the briny breeze. I enjoy the fourth floor room, it has a great view, but getting the bags up here was… exhausting. Yes, there’s an elevator. There was also a bit of a trek to the one remaining parking space. lol I’m not bitching, nor making excuses, just saying… I didn’t plan for this, and I’ve managed to use up some spoons making it happen.
…But oh, damn, come the dawn, and I’ve already got my easel set up, my pastels sorted, the coffee machine ready to coffee me up first thing. I am eager…
…And I miss my Traveling Partner, as the night goes quiet. I sigh to myself. He’s close. There’s safety in that relative proximity. I could run to his arms at any hour, should the night terrors come after me in this quiet place. I feel reassured by the knowledge that he would welcome me, at any hour.
I yawn. Breathe, exhale, relax. Listen to the sea.
