Archives for posts with tag: autumn

Chilly morning. Coffee just a memory at this point. I consider making a pot of tea, or having a mid-morning soak in the hot tub. I think ahead to the weekend, and blustery autumn days, chilly walks through piles of autumn leaves, and cozying up to the fireplace wrapped in a soft blanket with a good book. There are some delights that even pandemic life does not dim. A book by the fire? Add a mug of warm cocoa to that, and it’s a small slice of heaven for some of us. 🙂

I ran a brief errand, and returned home. There’s still something so magical about stepping over the threshold, here. Home. Feels good. I smile at the fall foliage on the pear tree beyond the window. Here and there, green leaves turning to russet shades, shaking with the breeze as if to say “it is chilly today”. I sigh out loud in the quiet of my studio.

Small moments and small pleasures make up so much of what is joyful in life. I mean… that’s true for me, specifically. I can’t speak for your experience. 🙂 My results do vary… often depending on my choices. I sit with that though for a moment, aware of the chilly autumn day beyond the window. Aware of the comfort I am fortunate to enjoy, here at home. I think about that hot tub, out on the deck, and the pain I am in with my arthritis, right now…

…Choices… verbs… free will… opportunity…

…It’s a good time to begin again. 🙂

This morning was definitely an autumn morning. The deck rail was frosty. The air was crisp and cold. Afternoon is approaching. The day is still cool enough to be quite obviously autumn. The sunshine has a friendly welcoming appearance, but lacks real warmth. (I’m not even complaining, just noticing.)

One sunny morning.

I take a slow relaxed approach to my break. I spend some time thinking about far away friends, old friends, distant family, and letters I mean to write. I promise myself I’ll take time for that… I am doubtful of my commitment to it, although I love writing letters. Strange.

I take a deep, relaxing breath of autumn. I taste the fall leaves and hint of forest and creek on the breeze. I marvel at the blue sky overhead. For a moment, this is more than merely “enough” – it is “everything”. 🙂

I take time to soak in the moment. Then, I begin again.

It’s another lovely autumn day. A work day. I’m okay with that; the day is pleasant.

The view from the deck.

The physical pain that has been my companion for days (weeks? months?) is “not bothering me” for some values of “bother”; it’s nothing more, for now, than an uncomfortable nuisance. I ignore it as much as I can. Manage it otherwise, when I must, and try not to be a dick to people when it goes beyond what I can pretend is not there. Not much else to do for it. Certainly, bitching about it doesn’t help me feel any better. I let it go as often as I can.

…Like now…

I am sipping an afternoon cup of tea. I’m frankly enjoying it more now that it has gone cold, which amuses me. I originally made this pot of tea because I was feeling chilly. lol

I hear my Traveling Partner in the background. Sometimes in the shop. Sometimes at his computer. Sometimes in the living room. I smile every time I notice his continued presence. It’s less an interruption in what I’m doing than a simple reminder that there is life beyond work, and that love exists. It’s very pleasant. The sounds of “home”.

I take a moment for a break. A moment for comfort. A moment to be present, here at home, savoring what feels so good and right in this moment. Moments are fleeting – best to appreciate them while they’re fresh. 😉 Soon enough it will be time to begin again.

It’s a lovely autumn day. I’ve spent it on mindful service to hearth and home, and some pleasant opportunities to enjoy the company of my Traveling Partner. We both seem to be having a very good day. I’m enjoying that, unreservedly. I’m also in pain.

The forest beyond the deck, on an autumn morning.

If I allowed my physical pain to stop me from getting things done or enjoying my experience in every moment I am experiencing physical pain, I’d have to just give in. Do nothing. Enjoy nothing. Go nowhere. That doesn’t sound like the best possible way to experience life, so… mostly I choose differently. It sometimes feels like an endurance race. A test of will. A hex. Today? Today it feels like a lovely autumn day on which I happen to be in pain. Verbs. Choices. Practices. Self-care.

We each walk our own hard mile. Sometimes it’s not “well-paved” or “smooth and level”. Sometimes that hard mile is miserable, tedious, or painful. Sometimes it feels endless. Persist. Endure. Choose. Don’t like the outcome? Try choosing something else. Begin again. If every mile of this journey called life was easy, effortless, and on an obvious path, it would likely also be incredibly dull, and certainly there’d be damned little reason to grow, to learn, or to change. So… there’s that.

There’s also this pain, but… it’s wrapped in a sunny day, and I feel wrapped in love. 🙂 It’s enough.

I am enjoying a gentle quiet evening. There is soft music playing, an old favorite. It is Mozart’s “Eine Kleine Nacht Musik”. I am thinking over what I will make for Thanksgiving Dinner. I find myself thinking of all that I am grateful for; there’s no point saving that endeavor for just one day a year. I relaxed awhile reading, and I will likely to return to that some time soon. Reading seems just about the perfect ‘quiet evening activity’… and there are so many books to read.

An autumn evening, a horizon, a quiet moment.

An autumn evening, a horizon, a quiet moment.

I take time to make a coffee – decaf – and enjoy the warmth of the mug in my hands, and the scent of fresh coffee. I can’t type and hold the mug at the same time. I sit for some time holding the mug and feeling its warmth spread through my flesh, before sipping it a few times and setting it aside.

Another way of looking at autumn.

Another way of looking at autumn.

It’s quite a lovely evening. It doesn’t seem to matter much that I am in pain. I make a point of taking care of myself just a bit better than I used to. This fragile vessel is chipped and glued back together, but quite useful, generally. I am sufficiently comfortable to enjoy the evening. Tired. I’ve been tired for days, and I find myself wondering if I am always so completely wiped out after some challenge or another, needing days of chill time and extra sleep to get on with things? I remember something important. I remember that making connections between events in a series, trending things happening in my experience of life, and determining a root cause for life is not relevant, necessary, or important [to me]. It’s actually a fairly significant waste of [my] time that tends to create an emotional investment in some constructed narrative that sounds plausible enough, but isn’t actually in any fashion real.  Instead I take a deep breath, and another, and recognize simply that I am tired. I’m okay with that – it’s simpler to simply be.

I look at the clock. It is quite early. I smile, thinking pleasant thoughts as the evening winds down. I don’t need more than this quiet moment.