Archives for posts with tag: be present

Breathe. Feel it? Lifeforce. Breathe in. Exhale fully. Feel the moment. Where are you now? What do you see when you look? What sounds fill the environment? Who even are you, when no one is with you, and no one is watching? Another moment comes and goes. Breathe, exhale, relax. Step onto the path that leads away, into the distance.

… Where does your path lead? You will decide. Choose wisely, and begin…

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

Spring is lush and green here, and the path past the vineyard and around the bend into the trees is strewn with soggy flower petals, blown to the ground and forming drifts at the edges of the path. I started walking at daybreak, quite possibly my favorite time to begin walking. No glorious golden sunrise this morning, instead heavy gray storm clouds fill the sky. Will it rain? Probably, but it isn’t raining now – and now is what matters when it comes to walking and the chance of rain.

Green and gray, and a path to follow.

I get to my halfway point and take a seat on a big landscaping rock that got dropped or placed in this spot some time long ago. I don’t always stop in this spot, but I usually consider whatever spot I do stop at to be “halfway”. 😆 It isn’t any sort of measured halfway point, it’s only the midpoint in my morning journey in the most approximate way. I stop, I write and meditate awhile, and I walk on. It’s the midpoint of the experience more than anything to do with miles.

…Your mileage may vary. 😆…

Your results, too, will vary. We’re each having our own experience. Each of us is walking our own path. We make our own choices. Experience the consequences of our own actions. We become what we practice. To a large degree, we really do “get out of it what we put into it”, as far as life goes. You’ll see so much more with your eyes open. Feel so much more if you heal from trauma and care for your heart with tenderness and consideration. Where does your path lead? What matters most to you?

… How much of the menu have you even considered sampling?

I am sitting quietly with my thoughts when a small brown bunny hops from the brush, hesitating when he sees me. He watches me warily, nibbling a bit of something or other with small purple flowers. Vetch, maybe? He seems to be enjoying it enough to disregard my presence. I sit quiet and still, watching him. I slowly (so slowly) switch from writing tools to camera. Just as I have the shot setup, he quickly hops away. Oh well, he was too quick for me. I guess you had to be here, in this moment.

I sigh to myself. Present. Awake. Alive. I’m grateful for the rather obvious lack of bombs or drones. It’s beginning to seem as of most other places in the world are dealing with some kind of violence. Nothing like that here, now. Just green grass and brown bunnies, and the occasional noisy robin. I sit contentedly for some little while. Soon enough it will be time to begin again. For now, I’ll just breathe, exhale, and relax.

I started my walk on this beautiful Spring morning feeling rested and merry, capable and unbothered. The moment was as nearly perfect as moments ever really get. There’s no “but”, or “and then”, or “if only” – it was simply a lovely moment to be walking as the sun began to rise. I made a point of enjoying it as I walked.

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

I get to my halfway point still feeling pretty lighthearted and still enjoying the spring morning. The grass is dewy and the morning a little chillier than it has been. I’m glad I wore my cardigan.

A new day, with new opportunities to choose, and to practice, and to begin again.

I smile, sitting here quietly enjoying this solitary moment. My Traveling Partner pings me a loving message. It adds to my delight. I find myself thinking about fairytales and happily ever afters. I enjoy a good story, but damn “happily ever after” is an enticing notion that fucked my thinking up for years and years, provoking me to chase happiness, only to fail to ever be happy, again and again. It compounded my misery for a long time.

There is no “happily ever after”. It’s a trap. The Happiness Trap. It’s so tempting and damaging, someone (Russ Harris) wrote a book about it. A worthy read if you are stuck on that treadmill. I was, for a long time.

Happiness isn’t really something to chase, I eventually learned. Through patient practice I learned to build contentment and resilience, and like sleep catching up with a toddler, happiness eventually caught up with me. Happiness, though, is like a moment; it is fleeting. Its intoxicating joy doesn’t last indefinitely, and what remains when the moment passes depends a lot on the path I’ve chosen to walk. Once upon a time, a moment of happiness left behind only misery and disappointment as it departed. Now, happiness can come and go as moments do, and I relish the intoxicating bliss and let it go without clinging when the moment passes. I rest in contentment between moments. Mostly.

See, there’s also no perfection – and no potential for it. The path we walk through life isn’t paved and well maintained in any reliable way. There is no map. No user’s guide. No “training game”. We try things and fail. We learn from mistakes, which we make plentifully (all of us). We walk on. Life is imperfect. People, too. One of the best things I ever did for myself was to stop clinging to the bullshit idea that I could perfect anything, including myself. Imperfect is fine. Imperfect is real. Authenticity matters more than “perfection”. This doesn’t stop me from seeking to become the woman I most want to be, just stops me from being frustrated when even she is not “perfect”. Mistakes will be made. My results will vary. It’s a very human experience.

I watch the sun rise, feeling close enough to “happy” that the difference can’t possibly matter, and it’s enough. More than enough. We become what we practice. Practice savoring each small moment of joy, and refraining from clinging to moments as they pass, and I find myself feeling joy more often, and really feeling it, in the moment (not just noticing as it slips away). It’s nice. Worth the effort. Worth the practice.

Here it is, another morning. Another moment. Another chance to begin again. I breathe, exhale, and relax, and welcome the joy of a moment in springtime before I begin again.

I’m sitting at the “halfway point” of this walk on a familiar trail, chuckling to myself over my lack of precision. It’s not actually halfway. Depending on whether I complete the loop, or turn back the way I came, it’s more or notably less than halfway. lol It’s a convenient stopping point sort of halfway-ish, with a pleasant spot to sit for a few minutes, that’s all. I routinely refer to this as halfway, in much the same way I might cut a sandwich in two pieces, and call each piece “half” of the sandwich without regard to how evenly split it actually is. Just saying… I’m not measuring these things for accuracy.

… I’m living my life…

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

The morning feels strangely compressed. Shorter. As though the minutes are somehow going faster. I know it’s not an accurate perception of time. Firstly, I slept past my sunrise alarm, and woke some minutes later to the lights on full brightness. Now, I’ve been sitting here listening to birds chirping and singing alongside this trail for who-knows-how-long – I definitely don’t. I didn’t check the time when I stopped. It’s been… some time. Honestly, it’s already time to head back to the car. Here I sit. Quietly. Contentedly. Enjoying this moment. It’s enough. I’d linger in this feeling for much longer, were that an option. All day maybe, as I might choose to do while camping. I sigh to myself and think my thoughts awhile longer.

… It’s time to plan some sort of camping trip, maybe…

Pause for a moment. Breathe.

Vita contemplativa. Ichi-go ichi-e. Each time for the first time, each moment the only moment. What a deliciously luxurious feeling it is to slow down. I stretch and enjoy the sunrise.

I know, I know, moments are fleeting. The clock is ticking. It’s time to begin again. I will…soon. For now, I’m enjoying this lovely moment.

I woke up slowly in a quiet place – home. I made coffee. I made oatmeal, and contentedly sliced the last banana into it, chuckling because my Traveling Partner handed it to me yesterday, before he departed, and I forgot to eat it. I was busy with work (what a fucking waste of limited mortal lifetime, but it pays for everything else).

I took a comfortable seat in the living room. Ate my breakfast. Sipped my coffee. Watched the news Bubu and Dudu videos. I have the house to myself. What a crazy luxury! Better than diamonds or Louboutin shoes for me personally, the luxury of solitude at home is a favorite delight. My beloved knows this, and took his first opportunity to get away, meeting needs of his own, to give me this gift. I feel very loved lazing in my jammies, enjoying my coffee, soft jazz in the background as I write – on my laptop instead of my phone! Good grief, I could get used to this, but g’damn I’d miss my Traveling Partner…

Enjoying a moment of luxury, on my own terms.

… I reflect on that for awhile. When we maintained separate households, morning coffee together was the precious luxury. We made a point of it, often. I would not trade this relationship for solitude…or, not permanently. I do need my time away now and then, no shame, that’s who I am. Wow am I enjoying being able to enjoy that at home. I sigh happily.

Shortly, after coffee, after writing, after meditation, I’ll enjoy a leisurely shower, fold some laundry (because there are still chores to do to maintain good quality of life), and then head to the garden supply place on the other side of town, maybe, for more compost for the garden. I smile, thinking about taking my walk later in the morning, or possibly in the afternoon, maybe on a different local trail? No rush.

I feel content and unbothered, and comfortable in my skin and in my home. How lovely!

… I slept like crap, not gonna lie. With just me and my stepson (the Anxious Adventurer) at home, and considering the bridges he’s managed to burn with me due to his poor judgement and dreadful communication skills (and poor social skills), my mind refused to rest, I was restless and hyper vigilant, fighting PTSD “monsters in the vicinity” alarms clanging away in my consciousness. I slept poorly, woke often, and for too few hours. I shrug it off because this morning? Just wow. So good. This meets so many needs.

I’m grateful for this beautiful morning and the loving partnership that recognizes and supports that need. Did I say I feel loved? I definitely do. I finish my coffee. I’m looking forward to my shower. I’m enjoying these precious moments of solitude at home.

What are the little luxuries you yearn for and struggle to have or enjoy? So much of what matters most to us can feel just out of reach. That’s often because we placed it there, just out of reach, for… reasons. Choose wisely. For fucks sake don’t leave them there out of reach! Do you! What does that look like? Indulge the freedom to be truly who you are. Embrace the experiences you love. Enjoy your moment. If you’re not free to get there now, maybe begin again? These mortal lives are too short to waste time on a shadow of living, constrained by expectations, or the pressure of circumstances (or opinions). Take time to enjoy life’s simple luxuries while the opportunities last.

… Thanks, Love, 😍🥰 I definitely needed this…

I turn off the music and listen to the silence, before I head to the shower. These moments are mine – a precious treasure beyond price – I’ll enjoy them as long as they last, and then? I’ll begin again.

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

I sat for a few minutes at the trailhead before I set off down the trail. The available mileage read 333, and I thought wistfully of turning the car around, calling out from work and driving east to catch up to the sunrise. It’s early. The sun won’t rise for another two hours.

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

I take a few more minutes to calm myself, to avoid pounding down the trail more stomping than walking; that’s too hard on my feet, ankles, and knees. Pointlessly damaging. Once I am calm, I set off down the trail in the darkness.

I reflect on my experience as I walk, and get to my halfway point annoyed to discover my phone at 35% charged. Wtf? Did I not plug in the charging cable when I went to bed? It’s possible, but the possibility does nothing to charge my phone now. I sigh to myself and toggle on “extreme battery saving”.

This morning I was awakened abruptly by the bang of a cupboard or a door. I dislike being awakened by loud noises. It sets off my PTSD. I’m hyper vigilant as I sit here in the darkness, heart still pounding, tinnitus shrill in my ears, pain amplified by anxiety – all this in spite of well-practiced tools for managing my PTSD. It takes time.

I sit here taking the time I need.

Fucking hell. And on a Monday after a couple days away from work, too. It’ll be a busy Monday. Maybe a busy week. I remind myself that although I can’t reliably control the circumstances in which I find myself, I can control my reaction to them. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I meditate for awhile in the darkness.

I sit listening to the HVAC of a nearby building. This is no wilderness trail, just a pleasant space between human endeavors. Behind me, the acreage of the air museum and a water park, vineyards filling every bit of space in which grapes could be planted. Ahead of me, on the other side of a creek that winds its way to the Yamhill River, an apartment complex, invisible but for a few lit windows and some balcony lights. Later, after daybreak, the farmworkers will begin to arrive, and the construction workers building a luxury hotel none of the locals actually want will begin their work. I sit with my irritation; it has nothing to do with these details, although it is tempting to connect them with my experience.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I let that shit go.

I dislike drama. I dislike displays of temper. I dislike unexpected loud noises. It’s a human life; there’s likely to be some drama, some temper on display, and some loud noises. Hell, sometimes I may be the cause. I sigh to myself in the darkness. My anger over being awakened by shit that isn’t even to do with me at all doesn’t help anything. I let it go. G’damn, I’ll be glad to see the Anxious Adventurer move out. The friction between him and my Traveling Partner is unpleasant to live with.

… They are each having their own experience, and in either case, it isn’t about me…

It’s just two more weeks.

My head aches. I take my medication a little early. I hope it helps.

I sigh again in the darkness, and pull my attention back to me, here, now, in this moment. I’m eager to be painting again. The background tension in the household has made that difficult. I sit reflecting on several views, images, and ideas I have in mind to paint. Being in less physical pain day-to-day has increased my feelings of being inspired. I love this feeling. I focus on the feeling of being inspired and “anchor myself” to that feeling, instead of clinging to my irritation. It’s a good choice, and I feel lifted from my anger.

Soon the sun will come. I’ll finish this walk and return home to work – and to make a good cup of coffee, and begin again.

For now, I’ll enjoy this quiet moment, listening to the HVAC in the distance and the creek nearby, and think thoughts of paintings yet to be painted, and moments of joy yet to come. I’ll open my heart to gratitude, and enjoy fond recollections of the time I’ve been spending with my Traveling Partner, which has been exceptionally pleasant lately, and romantic and connected. Time and moments worth savoring, for sure. I glance at the battery indicator on my phone. 31% now. I shrug, look over my writing and prepare to hit “publish” on this very human experience, before I begin again.