Archives for category: turning 60

Another rainy weekend morning at the trailhead waiting for daybreak.

Rainy perspective on a moment.

There’s nothing extraordinary about this wintry rainy morning. I’m okay with that. Life is built on moments and most of those moments are utterly ordinary in every way. That’s not even a criticism, it’s fine. Perhaps better than fine, it’s sustainable and useful.

The rain spatters the car pretty ceaselessly. I’ll have a better idea whether I will be walking the trail once daybreak makes it visible, in the meantime I sit enjoying the sound of the rain and thinking my thoughts. I’ve grown to embrace this waiting time; it’s mine, for me, solitary and still.

I set aside my writing and take time for meditation. I breathe, exhale, relax, and let my thoughts pass as clouds on a breezy day, noticed but without doing anything with them. I settle into a feeling of profound contentment and love. The thought of my Traveling Partner and our shared journey fills my awareness. A sense of gratitude enriches the moment. Pleasant morning. I woke so gently this morning, and now here I sit, enjoying… now. It’s enough.

I sigh contentedly. Daybreak. I hear the clang of the park gate opening. I notice that the rain has stopped, at least for now… If the trail isn’t too flooded, it’ll be a lovely morning to walk it. It’s a lovely morning anyway. Time to begin again.

I’m sitting at the trailhead, early on a Saturday morning before dawn, listening to the rain on the windows of my car. I watch the lights of passing cars on the nearby highway sweep over the soggy roadside and the marsh beyond. I am waiting for a break in the rain and for the gate to the park to open. I won’t have to wait much longer on the gate, it opens at daybreak.

I’m sipping an iced espresso, more ice than coffee, and thinking about yesterday. New job. Well… Same job, but as a full-time employee rather than a contractor. I’m smiling as I recall the moment, because my boss seemed every bit as excited to make the offer as I was to receive it, and said some pretty great things about the work I’ve done so far. It feels really good to get that kind of validation.

… I remind myself not to take the compliments personally, just as I would if I had been grievously insulted; they’re words. Opinions. Impressions in the moment. They provoke an emotional reaction, sure, but my own lived experience reminds me they guarantee nothing and provide no assurance of a particular outcome.

… Still… I’m pleased and excited. It’s a step I wanted to take and it puts me in a good place for the year ahead. I sit quietly with the feeling of eagerness and contentment for awhile, waiting for daybreak.

Daybreak comes. The park gate opens. The geese begin their day and I hear them honking at each other before I see them overhead. The rain just keeps coming down steadily. Too rainy to bring the camera out. I wait, still hopeful I might get a break in the rain sufficient to walk a couple miles along the soggy marsh trails. Maybe. Maybe not.

I sit wondering what to do with the day before remembering it’s time to take down all the holiday decor and put it away for another year. I’d almost forgotten all about it. lol My heart is still celebrating, I suppose. It’s not that there’s all that much joy available in the world right now, more that it is more urgent that we savor the joy there is.

I sip my coffee (honestly more ice water than coffee at this point) swirling it in the cup to hear the ice rattle. Life can change so quickly. I sit with my thoughts, my joys, my sorrows. I enjoy the pleasant stillness and solitude awhile. No agenda. No demands on my time or attention. Just this moment, the rain, and the sounds of the geese… It’s enough.

… Later, I’ll begin again.

It’s early. Pre-dawn. I’m waiting for daybreak at a favorite nearby trailhead on a drizzly chilly-but-not-cold Winter morning, on a Saturday morning, a day before this year ends. I enjoy walking as a metaphor for forward progress, for momentum, and for pursuing a path. Good morning for it. It’s even seeming very likely that the rain may hold off long enough to get a proper walk in without returning home quite sodden and chilled, which is a nice bonus this morning. I’d be here, now, even if conditions were colder and wetter, but I am glad the weather is relatively mild.

I rub my eyes and sip the iced coffee I picked up as I headed up the road to this place. Good morning for that too; I’d hoped to sleep quite a bit later, and I am tired. So tired. I suppose I could nap in the car until the sun peaks over the horizon… but… I’d miss watching the sunrise. lol I do enjoy a sunrise. Another beautiful living metaphor, a sunrise speaks to me of change and renewal and new beginnings, and I enjoy each one I am so fortunate to see.

… Fuck… I could be sleeping right now, though… only I’m not. Nothing much to be done about that, however , so I make the best use I can of these precious minutes of mortal lifetime to do something nice for/with myself. That’s how I find myself here on this trailhead so many mornings, waiting for the sun. I’m okay with it. I’ve waited on the sunrise for far worse reasons in this life.

This iced coffee is very good. The barista did a great job pulling the shots for it. “Shaken espresso”, but without anything to flavor or sweeten it, and no milk or cream, just coffee and ice. On a colder morning this wouldn’t be an ideal choice, because I’d want to be able to warm my hands with the cup. lol This morning it’s 48°F, and an iced coffee seems fine. I sip it contentedly, as the waning moon overhead perks through the clouds and a gentle rain spatters the moon roof of the car intermittently.

It’s a good time for meditation and quiet contemplation of the year that is almost over. It’s a good time to reflect on what has worked and what hasn’t worked so well. It’s a good time to look ahead and wonder, question, dream, and plan. Later, the sun will rise, and it will be a good time to begin again.

I hit the lottery on terrible coffee this morning. This cup is bad. Insipid. Poor flavor. Too hot to safely drink. It was made in a relatively fancy grind-to-order coffee machine in the office, and the beans in the hopper are generally of good quality and quite fresh. So…? Damn, are these actual grounds in my coffee, too? Blech. Interesting follow-up to a nearly effortless not-quite-actually-fun commute spent quietly driving while lost in thought, enjoying the lack of traffic. Fuck this is a terrible actually noteworthily bad cup of coffee. The Army makes better coffee. Reliably. lol

I sigh, and sip my coffee. Considering the state of the world, I’m fortunate to have freshly ground coffee beans and hot coffee, at all. If this small detail is my “top of mind” complaint, this morning, it’s a pretty good day, eh? I breathe and contemplate perspective for a while.

I look out onto the city from the office windows, before I start the work day. The high-rise condo tower across the park has more lights than usual, lit up with holiday lights, and Christmas trees in windows. Pretty. Down in the park itself, the trees are decked out in winter lights, and there are wreathes hung along the barrier wall that runs down one side. Also quite pretty. Festive. Day break is awhile away, yet, and there is no hint of sunrise-to-come peaking at me in the reflections of office windows. Not yet. It’s dark, and it’s early. It’s quiet in the office, and I’m alone here. The only sound is the hushed woosh of the heating, and the tappa-tap of my fingers on the keyboard. Peaceful.

I frown into my absolutely terrible coffee that I’m nonetheless fortunate to have, and for which I am grateful, and wonder why human beings are so loathe to embrace peace? What makes us such ridiculously unrepentantly violent creatures so willing to excuse heinous acts against other human beings? If you think you’ve got what it takes to shake your head, reject that notion, and say “well, not me…”, I’ve got to ask you what your personal position is on genocide? How about immigration? School shootings? Police brutality? Prison labor? Honor killings? “Crimes of passion”? Femicide? That asshole who pissed you off in traffic? As a species, we’re barely fucking housebroken, let alone “domesticated”, or “civilized”. We make more time to justify our individual wrong-headedness and bad acts than we do actually making an effort to create a society that supports and betters all humankind while also minimizing the “collateral damage” to the rest of the creatures and the ecosystem we’ve all got to share. We’re way into “us vs them” bullshit. I sigh outloud and sip my coffee. My seasonally timely seeming musings don’t get me anywhere, really. Just thoughts over coffee that inevitably lead me back to the question I begin most of my days with, “how can I do better today to be the woman I most want to be, than I did yesterday?” My results vary.

I feel a somewhat cynical smile on my face. I recommit to an “easy win”; today I won’t kill anyone, won’t break anything, won’t do any damage (where I can recognize that likely outcome), and I won’t act in anger against another creature, or destroy property. Seems easy enough. I pass most of my days in this fashion. I feel a latent vague anger seething in the background; it just doesn’t seem hard to choose to refrain from violence, and yet… there is so much of it in the world. Another sigh. Another sip of coffee. Another beginning.

I think back on the weekend. I spent it hanging out with (and doing things for) my Traveling Partner, while he continues to recover from an injury. He’s rarely injured, and being even somewhat incapacitated (or at all limited) really frustrates him and causes him stress and anxiety. I often tend to exist in a state of chronic injury, or recovery from some recent new injury, or concerned about not aggravating some old injury, and thus tend sometimes to be overly complacent about the discomfort and pain of being injured, or just puzzled about how maddening it can be to have to slow everything to a near halt just to let something heal. Just sit still and wait, right? I forget there are things to do about it. I guess I’m not wholly convinced that it matters to try – which is a problem of a different sort, and I give myself time to think about that, too.

In spite of being injured, my Traveling Partner makes me a cool stand for bananas so they don’t just sit on the counter or go bad in a bowl. It delights me that he thought to do so, and I feel very loved. I pushed myself pretty hard to stay caught up on as much of the routine shit that he’d ordinarily handle to keep things tidy and cared for. It wasn’t a particularly restful or recreational weekend, and I begin the new week pretty fatigued already, but there’s another one coming – it’s just days away. lol

“Giftmas” is almost here! The tree twinkles merrily, but there’s nothing much under it this year. Something for me, something for him, something for us; it’s enough. My Traveling Partner already has his gift(s) which I gave to him early as a combined birthday/Giftmas, and as a result, he’s already made me several things (like that banana stand) that I’m already using. He 3D printed me a very cool model to build over the Giftmas weekend, too. I’m excited about the weekend together, and the holiday, even without a stack of gifts under the tree, and yeah, also knowing that I really haven’t done anything to fill stockings, either. This one is low-key, and planned to be quite, intimate, and chill. More about presence, than presents. I’m okay with that. I feel very loved, and this life we share is a good one.

I’ve almost finished this terrible cup of coffee. The sky is now a sort of bluish-gray, poised between daybreak and sunrise, hinting at a rainy day ahead. My head aches. My arthritis pain is something like a 6 on a 1 through 10 scale. My email inbox is empty, and my calendar is mostly empty. I guess 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.