Archives for posts with tag: autumn rain

I checked the weather while I dressed. Looked like more of the same mild autumn weather we’ve been having. I stifled excessive feelings of merriment before it turned into whistling or song, to avoid waking my Traveling Partner. I woke feeling pretty good.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

I grabbed terrible coffee on my way up the highway, not intentionally, it’s how things went is all. I got used to it, I guess. I must have; I kept drinking it. There’s something to learn there about the critical importance of being aware that one’s prized adaptability may undermine necessary self-care. I ponder that as I drive, still drinking this terrible coffee. (It’s not bad meaning tainted in some way, it’s simply poorly made, of poor quality beans, and stored in an air pot that likely doesn’t get cleaned thoroughly between uses.) Industrial. Still a learning opportunity worth contemplating.

At the trailhead I’m surprised to see the ground wet from recent rain. It’s cooler, too, and my cozy fleecy shirt doesn’t feel like potentially too much, at all, the way it did when I dressed. I forgot to put on a fleece or my cardigan. Didn’t seem necessary at the time. I shrug it off; I’ll warm up as I walk.

…

Now I’m sitting, half crouching, in the photographer’s blind on the marsh. It was closer than the parking lot when the rain started. It’s not yet daybreak, and rushing down the marsh trail slick with mud, in the rain, in the darkness, didn’t seem like a good idea at all. So, I slowed down, and thought better of it, choosing the shelter of the blind until the rain passes. In some distant oak, I hear the sound of a bird of prey calling into the night with a dissatisfied sounding screech at regular intervals. I hear an owl hooting. I listen to the rain drumming on the roof of the blind. I prop open one of the “windows” and sit looking out over the marsh toward the east, listening to the rain fall. I’m in no hurry.

Yesterday was strange, strained, and difficult, but ended well. I’ll leave it there and let myself move on. Today is new. I’ll do my best. I slept well, and mostly without dreaming, which was a nice relief. Lately my sleep has been unsettled, filled with disturbing images and fragments of painful memories. It was nice to wake gently this morning. I’m pretty well done with the headcold I was fighting all week. I sigh quietly to myself thinking about the housekeeping I’m behind on. Vacuuming and laundry today, I guess. Maybe some time in the studio if my energy holds up. I remind myself of errands – a pharmacy stop, and some returns to drop off, feeling prematurely pleased to remember them without a reminder.

I think about my beloved Traveling Partner sleeping at home. I hope he’s sleeping well and deeply, and wakes to a new day with a smile. We might not have chosen each other as long term partners if circumstances had been different (or if we’d known in advance how deeply complicated this could be), but we did, and it works in an intense, passionate, and also really peculiar way. We “get” each other, love each other deeply, and choose each other again and again. It’s not any sort of testimony to being “easy”, but “easy” doesn’t appear anywhere in the contract. Worth it? Yes, definitely. Sometimes it’s still a lot of work and demands more growth from me than I think I can achieve… but here we are. I’m okay with it. I don’t doubt I am loved and safe.

… He’s more able to vex me than anyone else...

I sit smiling, thinking about my beloved. I’m very fortunate. I feel an acute and unexpected pang of intense loneliness and separation, just being here, while he is there. How strange that I adore this one human being so intensely. No, it isn’t always easy… I am loved, truly, and that’s what matters most. The loving.

Daybreak comes to the marsh. The rain stops. No colorful sunrise this morning, just cloudy sky and occasional streaks of blue showing through. I sit thinking how easily we allow a moment – particularly a painful or angry moment – to take us over and turn us into someone we don’t recognize. Being human, and doing a skillful job of it, is not effortless. It’s got more than a reasonable number of frustrating bullshit moments to deal with or endure. There’s going to be a lot to apologize for in one human life. I sigh, momentarily feeling the full weight of a lifetime of mistakes and failures and… humanity. Sometimes it’s hard.

I get to my feet as I exit the blind. I grab the edge of the plywood roof as I stand, to avoid slipping in the mud. The rain has stopped. Sometimes life is hard. Love, too. Sometimes I have to begin again. I smile as I gaze out over the marsh. I’m okay with that. I get started down the path a step at a time, watching fog deepening in the low places with some surprise. It’s as good a beginning as any.

Well, it’s definitely autumn in the Pacific Northwest. It’s raining steadily. I’m sitting at the trailhead, in the car, wondering if the rain will let up long enough to get a walk in this morning? It is beginning to seem unlikely. I sigh out loud and sit quietly, waiting.

…Later, I travel…

This morning, I deal with my anxiety, and I deal with a concerned email from my Traveling Partner. His own anxieties were keeping him awake during the night, and he tackled them directly, expressing his concerns with care and asking me for assurances and charges in behavior. His approach reflects our years together as partners. I read it over, a couple times, before I reply. Of all the things causing me stress right now, this email isn’t one of them. I value his candor.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I find myself vacillating between already missing my Traveling Partner (I’m not even gone yet), and hoping this trip away for work somehow also meets my need to get some real solitude, beyond a trail walk in the morning. It’s been a long time since I’ve managed to get a couple of days away to myself (and being home alone seems completely out of reach pretty chronically).

I have a peculiar sudden stabbing bit of anxiety, weirdly out of place in my experience – I find myself anxious over “what if I returned home and he was gone though?!” I have literally no reason to consider this fear a legitimate concern. No idea where it comes from. No doubt it is some remnant of old baggage or past trauma; I let it go. It isn’t real, and I definitely have enough real shit vexing me and stoking my anxiety.

The rain slows to a sprinkle. I’m looking forward to walking in the rain freshened air before spending hours on a plane. I pull on my poncho and grab my cane. It’s time to begin again.

It’s a rainy Saturday morning. Autumn. The rain isn’t a surprise, the very mild almost warm temperature is. This morning I’m overdressed, with too many layers, anticipating a colder morning on the trail.

Waiting for the sun, and a break in the rain.

My Traveling Partner was explicitly clear he wanted time enough to sleep-in undisturbed this morning, so I’ll take my time on the trail, maybe go farther, and go to the store on my way home. Maybe I’ll stop for a coffee and sit watching passersby passing by, for a little while? The morning is my own to enjoy at my leisure and I’m very much okay with that after a very busy work week that left me feeling thoroughly overwhelmed by cognitive fatigue and quite fragile by the end of it.

When I arrived home last night, I didn’t even make an attempt to mask my excessive fatigue, I just stated rather matter-of-factly that I was going to “go meditate and cry awhile” before hanging out. My partner was careful, considerate, and kind to me. We enjoyed a pleasant evening with the Anxious Adventurer, listening to music and watching videos, after I’d provided myself with the necessary self-care.

New day, new challenges – only, generally speaking, they’re mostly the same challenges I tend to have: physical limitations that need to accounted for, pain that must be managed, emotions to experience and process, and these finite mortal hours. Today my headache is an absolute motherfucker, but I do my best to avoid letting it become my whole world. So far so good. I’m facing more than expected fatigue on less than hoped for rest. All things considered, it’s a pretty ordinary rainy autumn Saturday. My coffee is good. Right now that’s enough. I sit listening to the rain fall and thinking about “the distance between”…

…The distance between “then” and “now”, and how very different life is, than I once expected it to be.

… The distance between what I thought I wanted out of life before I’d lived enough of to know what I might want, and what I want out of life now.

… The distance between moments, how short that really is, and how far it can sometimes seem to be.

…The distance between loving hearts that sometimes develops, though love endures, and what it takes to get closer.

…The distance between two strangers, however close they stand together.

… The distance between now and the fucking election, which I’d very much like to be over with, already.

… The distance between the money and resources available and the things I want to do with those.

… The distance between where I am, and where I’d like to be.

…The distance between where I find myself on this ball of rock and mud and sorrow, and where my dearest friends are.

…The distance between where I am sitting, on this quiet trailhead, and where the bombs are falling instead of raindrops.

I sip my coffee and think my thoughts, listening to the rain fall, and waiting for the sun. There won’t be much of a sunrise this morning, but I’ve got this quiet moment, this good cup of coffee, and there are no bombs falling, here. I let my mind wander, grateful for the life I am fortunate to live, and the love I am fortunate to experience. I sit grateful for a partnership that supports my wellness and gives me freedom to enjoy quiet solitary hours. I’ve got a lot to be grateful for.  I sit with that thought, until it’s time to begin again.

Today is a good day to “be there” for someone – even if that someone happens to be you. Actually… I’m a big fan of learning to “be there” for yourself. For you, as an individual, you know – as if you were one of your own dearest friends. I mean… why would you not treat yourself at least as well as you treat the person you love most in all the world? Or for sure at least as well as your treat your bestie – right?

It’s a busy Monday. I’m sipping my second coffee between work tasks. A moment of curiosity sends me to the stats page of my blog wondering which posts have grabbed attention, lately. I find myself reading this one, about managing anxiety, and “being there” for one another. I read it again, and consider how well I am living up to my own suggestion to “be there” for myself…

It rained this weekend, pretty much all weekend. I spent lovely hours hanging out with my Traveling Partner. I’m grateful to share life with this person I enjoy so very much; it’d be a long fucking pandemic in the company of a human being I don’t care for. Worth a moment of gratitude, and then some more after that. 🙂

The autumn rain recently began quickly overflowing the rain gutters. One of the “perks” of homeownership, no doubt. I feel fortunate for the break in the rain yesterday morning, and the purposefulness of my partner getting to work cleaning the rain gutters out before the rain began again. Wow. I feel loved, and cared for. (Speaking of being cared for, he also reliably hits me up to take a break together at regular intervals during the work day, which I greatly appreciate – I’m the sort that forgets to take breaks. lol)

It’s a new day. Great chances to begin again. What will I do with that? (What will you do with that?) Will we change the world for the better in some small way? (We could… we should totally do that!)

It’s been a lovely relaxed weekend, filled with unexpected moments of delight and love. Pleasant. Restful. Even productive. I’ve enjoyed each lovely loving moment without reservations. I’ve found purpose and growth in the handful of moments that were less than ideally delightful. Hell, no hard feelings, either; it is probably an unreasonable fantasy (and an unsustainable reality, at best, and only occasionally, if ever) to contemplate a life of endless contentment and joy. Rain falls. Humans are human. 🙂 I value the opportunities to grow and to be more the woman I most want to be, although, sometimes, in spite of how the information reaches me.

It was a rainy autumn weekend, and I’ve no reason to complain about that.

Several times this weekend I’ve taken a moment to reflect on where I am, and where I seem headed, relative to where I began, and who I have been. It’s been an interesting journey.

The wintry wood beyond the deck inspires me to paint scenes of winter. Shades of gray. Whites. Blacks. Winter days. Winter nights. I let my mind wander, thoughts of paintings to come. 🙂

It’s time to begin again.