Archives for category: winter

I’m sipping my coffee. Just that. I’m taking a moment of time out of the day to simply sit, quietly. Not only is there no “shame” in taking this time for myself, between doing the budget for this pay period and starting the workday, it’s quite necessary for me to thrive that I take this time to simply be. No pressure to perform. No agenda. Nothing that must be done right this minute. There are opportunities to make room for stillness throughout any given day – for all of us – it’s a matter of taking that time and making it one’s own. It does require an act of will, particularly on a busy or stressful day. A moment spent just being… not fixing things, not ruminating over the latest stressful detail, not troubleshooting nor planning, simply a moment of stillness spent… being. I breathe, exhale, and relax.

…I could be doing a thing, my busy brain reminds me somewhat anxiously…

Another breath, another sip of coffee. I look out the window onto the morning. It’s not yet daybreak, and there is no hurry. There’s only this moment, and me, some stillness, and this coffee. It’s enough. More than that, it’s quite necessary.

…Metaphorically speaking…

I sit contentedly for some time before I turn back to my computer to write these few words about that simple experience. It does require a choice. Recognition that I am deserving of my own time and attention for this little while. The willingness to make inaction the action I am choosing to indulge for some little while. Purposeful contented stillness in the midst of a busy day feels… luxurious. No shame, guilt, nor reqret, just a lovely moment spent on… quietly being.

I am reading Vita Contemplativa by Byung-Chul Han. A worthy read about the pursuit and value of inactivity. The luxury of leisure. The worthiness of stillness to fuel creativity and thought. Another quite slim, small volume filled with big thoughts. I’m having to take it in small moments to give myself the chance to reflect and consider what I’ve read – and I am inspired. These notions about the value of stillness, inactivity, and rest really resonate with me.

I consider my dueling nature; the artist and the analyst. The girl who can read for hours and the woman who is aware there is yet more housekeeping to do. The daydreamer whiling away the day and the purposeful individual completing tasks on a list one by one. The driver heading for the horizon without a destination, and the one with a carefully planned route to a place that must be reached. The woman with a deadline and the one who does not care about time. What matters most, I wonder? Who am I when I am alone with the woman in the mirror?

I smile to myself. Having succeeded in taking a few minutes to just be, and to enjoy that moment without anxiety – or purpose – really refreshed and energized me. I feel “ready for the day” in some way that I don’t reach any other way. Is this “real” or an illusion? Does that even matter, if this is the experience I am having?

I glance at the time and finish my writing. I’ll finish, here, then finish my coffee without hurrying the moment. Stillness and time to reflect and simply be, first – I can begin again sometime after that. My calendar and my list will still be waiting there for me.

Where does this path lead?

I’ve gone down a strange rabbit hole of self-reflection over my coffee this morning, thinking about “meaning”, “purpose”, “gratitude”, and “authenticity”. It started simply enough with the thought that I might write a few words on being positive in life, which quickly got tangled up in thoughts of how to do that… or… become that… This lead me to contemplating authenticity, and how necessary and valuable that is (in my opinion). Giving thought to how to become a more positive person (which took me quite some time and practice, myself) and the need to approach that from a place of authenticity took me further to thoughts of gratitude, practicing gratitude, and the feelings that doing so give me (which I find profoundly uplifting and positive as a practice).

…Somehow I found myself thinking of meaning, and living a meaningful life, and feeling a sense of purpose, which got me considering more deeply the nuances of both “meaning” and “purpose”…

Here I sit with my coffee, meditating on the meaning of “meaning” and the purpose of “purpose”, and the differences between them, and the places where they intersect in my life, and… how I got here in the first place. Eventually, I Googled “difference between purpose and meaning” and read a few of the results. I found myself nodding now and then, and other times disagreeing with some detail, and never quite “answering the question” – which I hadn’t framed as a question in the first place. Is this useful self-reflection? Am I considering deeply some important ideas the results of which may further my journey or light my path in some way? Am I wasting precious limited mortal time? Some combination of all of these?

I sip my coffee and think my thoughts. I’m grateful for the questions, and I’m okay with lacking clear answers. I’m content to play with the words in my head on a Thursday morning, reflecting on this human journey, and where I’ve been, and where I’m headed. I enjoy the moment, and my coffee; it’s enough. The questions linger, and I’m okay with that. Questions make good beginnings.

This morning I woke up feeling subtly different about “things”, generally. It wasn’t a huge obvious change of heart or significant shift in mindset, but there was definitely a hint of a sense of purpose that feels more focused. I like having a plan. A bit of self-reflection can go a long way toward “lighting the path ahead” – like wearing a headlamp on a dark trail. It’s no substitute for sunlight, but it’s better than wandering around in the dark.

I’m sipping my coffee and taking a look at my notes from yesterday. It’s not a detailed plan, just a handful of notes. Something more like a notion of what landmarks to look for on a memorized route than an actual map. For example, “read more bound books” isn’t very specific at all – but I also have an actual stack of books to read, and a list for more that I’d like to read once I’ve finished the stack I’ve got. Now that’s a plan. Well… no. That’s an intention, backed up by physical tools to get the thing done. My plan is to take advantage of quiet time in the evenings to read a bit, and on weekend mornings when my Traveling Partner is sleeping in (when I can’t quite start on housekeeping chores and such because I’d make too much noise), those are good times for reading. If I wake during the night, I’ve got another good opportunity to read a chapter or two, before returning to sleep. That’s a plan. Making it all come together is about the actual actions, and as I said, this morning I woke feeling focused and purposeful – and not just about reading more bound books, there’s more to my notes than that, more that I’d like to do, to live, and to change. So… there are definitely verbs involved. Life to live. Choices to make. We become what we practice, and I’ve plenty of practice ahead of me in the new year.

This morning I am feeling hopeful and encouraged about life, in spite of the chaos of the world. Yes, there’s a lot of distressing horrible shit going on in the world, but very little of that is happening in my little town, and none of it in my home or at my job, and I don’t mean to be selfish or self-centered about this, I’m just saying there’s more to life than the outrage machinery of the media, or the horrors of foreign wars. It’s okay to also embrace hope, and enjoy… joy. In fact, it’s probably healthy, and helpful. So, I make a point of it. I’m not ignoring the shit that needs changing in the world – I’m merely “filling the tank” so that I have the endurance for this race, and the resolve to speak truth to power, and the will to do what I can to make positive changes, even if that is only raising my voice without shame to say “this is wrong, we can do better”.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I’m already thinking about distant trails, and afternoons camping in forested places. It’s winter now, but Spring will come again. I think about my Dear Friend for a moment. She “gave up” too soon, I’ve often thought. A great many things that we human beings do are more than a little “use it or lose it” in practice. You can love hiking, but if you don’t hike, it slowly becomes more difficult until it’s not easily done at all. This is true even of movement, generally. I don’t want to follow that path, myself, don’t want to “give up” too soon – so I keep walking. I keep camping. I keep working in my garden. (Well, that last is presently a bit aspirational; my untended garden full of weeds vexes me every time I walk past. I can do better. It’s on my list.) It’s easy to feel the fatigue and the pain and to want to just… rest. It’s a risky choice to rest too often for too long. It can too easily become a sedentary life of inactivity and malaise. I keep walking. I keep beginning again. One more step. One more task. Another project. Life is full of verbs.

I look at my calendar – I see a new physician next week. The week after that, an old friend (The Author) will visit – I’m excited about that. I haven’t seen him since… 2016? 2017? 2018. It’s been too long. The week after that I get my hearing aids. Busy January. The path ahead unfolds step by step. I look over my notes; it’s not about “ticking boxes”. It’s my life. I want to live it. I’m enjoying making time for more reading. I’m enjoying refreshing my Czech language skills. I’ll try out a new recipe tonight – probably. I skipped my walk this morning, and it serves as a powerful reminder that consistency is also a practice. (Every day that I don’t walk a trail is a day that reduces the likelihood of hitting that 1k trail mile target, I remind myself unnecessarily.)

I sigh quietly to myself, and stretch. I’m 61 as I sit here – 62 in June. How much time do I have left? What do I want to do with it? How do I live my best life for the longest amount of remaining time? What matters most? I don’t “feel old” – but I also don’t feel young. Today’s a pretty good day – I’m not in a lot of pain (call it a 3 on a 1-10 scale, which is honestly pretty good for me). There’s more yet to do – and doing it from a perspective of presence and mindful awareness changes the experience for the better. I smile and sip my coffee and push up my sleeves. It’s time to begin. Again.

I’m sipping my coffee, reflecting on the year behind me and thinking ahead to the year that has newly begun. “The journey is the destination.” So it’s said. So I hear. I accept that as a given, actually, after walking my path awhile. It’s the first “proper Monday” of the new year as I sit here at my desk, and I’ve a pen and a small notebook at hand. I make notes as I reflect on my life and my achievements, missed opportunities, and occasional disappointments of the year behind me. The notes are in two columns this time around; “stepping stones” and “pitfalls”. The stepping stones are things I can adopt or continue as practices that will tend to build the life I want to live, and help me become the woman I most want to be. The pitfalls are those things that may tend to hold me back or undermine my progress. Simple stuff.

I’ve given my year a “theme”, intended to represent a destination of sorts, on which I can anchor my intentions, goals, and priorities. This year my theme is “living a quality life”, which I am defining as living my best life without exhausting myself (or my resources).

My list of stepping stones is quite practical, and seems very achievable. It’s not even long, and is made up mostly of things I greatly enjoy. How handy is that? This is by intention; it’s easier to practice things that are either very enjoyable or which have an immediate “pay off”. There are only two wholly conceptual items, but they are important ideas for the year ahead: presence, and consistency. I see them as being necessary to the success of everything else on my list.

  • Learn a language (I’m already working on this one, by working on rebuilding and improving my Czech language skills, which are quite rusty)
  • Read more bound books (I’ve got a stack of them, and I’ve already finished one – but it’s not a race, and comprehension is a key part of the experience)
  • Paint more (this one is a bigger deal than two small words imply, and meets many needs)
  • Walk more/further (788 trail miles in 2024 – can I hit 1000 in 2025? Self-care? Meditation? Fitness? A bit of all that and more.)
  • More strength training (an important part of fitness and health as I age, and utterly necessary as I continue to lose weight and use semaglutide to manage my blood sugar.)
  • Food/diet – explore new recipes and skills (and write down the successes in the new family recipe binder my Traveling Partner gifted me this year! The semaglutide being what it is, food has become a very intentional thing, which seems healthier, too.)
  • Drink more water (the science says it really matters – and I definitely feel better when I do.)

My list of pitfalls is surprisingly short, but each item on that list is a potential chasm – a sinkhole more than a pothole on life’s journey. Self-reflection lets me get down to basics in a way that prevents me from petty self-criticism or negative rumination, and provides me with positive observations I can really work with to limit poor behavioral choices, and to develop better practices that are themselves in line with my “presence” and “consistency” stepping stones. Win!

  • Autopilot (no lie, I like things easy, and I rely on habit and routine to stay the course with some healthy practices, but leaving things on “autopilot” is the literal opposite of being present, and it comes with some troubling negative consequences. It’s worth learning to remain present, aware, and mindful even when being consistent with some routine practice – and potentially more joyful.)
  • Failed practices (being human, failure is a thing and there’s no dodging that, but healthy practices need… practice. Resuming a valued practice that has momentarily failed is a matter of beginning again. Worth the effort.)
  • The fallow garden (literal and metaphorical; 2024 was a terrible year for my garden. My Traveling Partner needed more from me than I truly had to give, and that wasn’t negotiable from my perspective – other things, particularly my garden, fell by the wayside and need new resolve and attention in the year to come.)
  • Malaise (it’s easy to let fatigue push me to failure through exhausted inaction, it’s hard to overcome, but good self-care and careful management of time and energy are worthy tools to prevent falling into this trap)
  • Resentment (another all-to-human trap, this one is avoided through connection, openness, skillful communication and boundary-setting, and reliably consistent self-care)
  • Sugar! (Just keeping it real, this shit is like poison for me.)

This stuff isn’t complicated. Just some notes taken as I reflect on my life and consider what I want out of it. What do I want? I want joy and contentment. I want improved wellness. I want improved intimacy and connection in my relationship(s). I want satisfaction in life and “order from chaos”. I want to live on principles of sufficiency, within my resources. As I said – it’s not complicated stuff, and mostly seems pretty doable. It’s not “fancy”, and as goals go these seem rather more “within reach” than grandly aspirational. I still have to really work at all of this, though. I’m quite human.

I make a point to “set myself up for success”. I’m not looking at the calendar telling myself I need to be a size 8 by next Thanksgiving, or that I’ll be fit to run a marathon by the 4th of July. I’m not making a long list of weighty tomes and demanding that I finish them all before the next new year. In fact, these mostly don’t adhere to “SMART” goals at all. (SMART goals are specific, measurable, achievable, relevant, and time-based, great for professional project management.) My life is not a corporate entity with a 5 year plan and key performance indicators that must be reached to qualify as a success. lol I’m not saying SMART goals are not worthwhile in a great many use-cases. It’s more that I’m a human being, living a life that I’d like to enjoy. My mortal time is finite and precious. So… these are my goals, approached my way. The success is defined by me, based on my values. This works for me. It’s enough.

Speaking of limited time… it’s already time to begin again. I make myself a calendar entry to remind me to look back on this moment of self-reflection later, and see how I did when this year ends. (I do find purposeful self-reflection very useful.)

…I wonder where this path leads…

Seems to be very effective so far… probably doesn’t hurt that the path is mine, and that I choose it myself.

Perspective is an interesting thing. Change the context, or vantage point of an observed thing, and it may look quite different. Change the filter or lens on a camera, and the pictures are transformed. Zoom in, or step back, and what is revealed changes. Scale in comparison to other things may alter the apparent importance of something experienced or observed. A change of perspective has as much to do with our understanding as a change to the facts themselves. How interesting is that?

I woke earlier than I planned. Earlier than necessary at all, but once I was awake, there wasn’t much point in hanging about at home waiting for an unexpected opportunity to make a household-waking amount of noise inadvertently. I dressed, made coffee for my Traveling Partner, and got on with things. Somewhere between the front door and the trailhead, sleepiness caught up with me, and getting up so early now feels foolish. I parked the car just as the rain began drumming on the roof. Well, shit. I sit back a bit, listen to the rain sleepily and watch the clouds cross the sky while I wait for a break in the rain sufficient to walk the trail comfortably.

I am thinking about the “lens” through which I view the world. It’s a useful metaphor for perspective. I think about the necessity of “polishing the lens” for accuracy through education, fact-checking, and testing assumptions. I think about taking a closer look at events and experiences for a deeper understanding by way of “increasing the magnification” as one might with the lenses of a microscope. I consider how many lenses my eye doctor uses to get my prescription on my glasses just right, and the many comparisons between lenses that process requires. The lens is as excellent metaphor for perspective and clarity of thought. I sit contentedly, listening to the rain, and considering things through a variety of “lenses”.

…It makes sense to view the world through a variety of lenses, and to build nuanced understanding through considering things from more than one perspective…

My tinnitus rings and chimes and buzzes loudly in my ears and I am sleepy. My mind wanders. That’s okay, I’m not in any particular hurry and it’s still raining quite hard. The clouds are a pale soft gray against the darkness of the night sky. I find myself wondering if the new administration really will manage to put an end to the bullshit back-and-forth of the Daylight Savings Time changes we put ourselves through each year. If they do, which way will they go: permanent DST, or the other? I consider each option from several points of view and realize I’m not actually certain which I’d prefer, myself. I can see value to either, depending on the lens I choose. Summer hikes? Winter commutes? Sleeping in? Camping? Gardening? Children going to school? People with seasonal affective disorder? This lack of certainty tends to suggest it may be tough to bring about such a change, if many people are similar conflicted or uncertain. I find myself wondering, too, who will have the loudest voices and most money to spend on influencing the outcome.

I yawn drowsily as the rain stops. Seems a good time for my wandering mind and I to hit the trail. I put on my boots. They feel heavy on my feet this morning. I hang my headlamp around my neck. It dangles loosely, pointing toward my feet. I pull on my fleece over my sweater and stuff my rain poncho into my back pocket, just in case. Time to walk a couple miles in my own shoes. Time to stay on my path. Time to see the world with new eyes from a new perspective.

… Time to begin again… again.

A familiar walk from a different perspective, and through a different lens.