I don’t really feel like walking this morning, but I’m here at the trailhead nonetheless. It is not yet dawn, and daybreak is almost an hour away. I would have slept in, but I woke to a noise, and it was quickly clear I would not be able to return to sleep, so I got up, dressed, and left the house.
On my way to the trail, I got an iced coffee. Turns out to be one of the worst coffees I’ve ever had. It tastes bitter, stale, and over-roasted. It is thoroughly disappointing, but it is liquid, cold, and manages to serve it’s purpose in spite of its flaws. It’ll have to do. Coffee is expensive and I am not going to waste it.
So, I’m here. It’s early. I’m cross about not getting to sleep later. I remind myself to be grateful I’m at least getting an adequate amount of sleep, if not a restorative amount. By being flexible and adaptable, I’m doing my part to ensure my Traveling Partner gets the rest he needs to continue to recover from his injury. That’s an important detail, and I wouldn’t change it, and I don’t begrudge him the opportunities he has to get more rest. I know he needs it, and that matters to me. I’ve had sleep difficulties quite literally all my life, even sleepwalking and profound nightmares and insomnia as a toddler. My sleep these days is the best, by far, that it ever has been, other than during periods in my life when I lived alone (although even then, good sleep was unreliable at best).
It doesn’t take me long to get over feeling annoyed. Certainly, it isn’t worth taking personally. G’damn this coffee is terrible, though. I still manage to feel some gratitude that I’ve got this cup of coffee at all. Grateful, too, for a partnership and abiding love that nurtures my spirit and enriches my life.
I sit quietly, reflecting on how brief this mortal life may be. We have a finite time in these mortal bodies. The moments are precious and too brief. There’s no time to waste on vexation and bullshit. It makes more sense to enjoy another sunrise from the trail than to fuss about being awake “too early”, doesn’t it? The clock is always ticking. The grains in life’s hourglass are steadily trickling away. Living life becomes cherished memory too quickly. It makes sense to be present, to be grateful, and to really live. Doesn’t it?
I sip my dreadful coffee. I meditate. I wait for the sun. I see the earliest hint of daybreak in subtle changes. The horizon hints at dawn. The clouds overhead seem more defined. A sense of the trail leading away from the parking lot begins to develop. Close enough, I guess. I put on my boots and get ready to begin again.
…
…
…
… halfway down the trail, it begins to rain…
Evening Light 