It’s still dark here at the trailhead where I am waiting for daybreak. It’s a pleasantly mild morning and expected to be a warm sunny day. I’d hoped to sleep in, but woke at my usual early hour, and did my best to slip away quietly so my Traveling Partner could get the rest he needs, too. So here I am, thinking about life and waiting for the sun.
I watched an excellent perspective piece on YouTube last night with my Traveling Partner, discussing what makes a “good life”, and what a life well-lived consists of, generally. That’s an utterly inadequate summary. It sort of describes “how the sausage is made” with regard to all the media crap we cram into our brains that tell us we could or should do more or live differently. You could just watch it. I found it a worthwhile way to spend 11 minutes. Inspiring in a wholesome way. I don’t think I could have said it better.
Daybreak comes. Mt Hood is backlit by a broad strip of a relatively bold orange. It’s a lovely morning to be on the trail early, alone with my thoughts. Time to wrap this up and get going…
Is this a “boring” life because I don’t travel to exotic destinations or do amazing adventurous things? No. It’s a quiet life built on contentment and sufficiency, doing things I truly enjoy, and spending time with people I have real fondness for. It’s not only not boring, it’s very much the life I have been working towards for so long. 🙂
I’ve been feeling very fatigued at the end of each day this week. Last night I was so tired I crashed rather abruptly, rather early, and failed to complete a couple absolutely ordinary routine tasks I generally do before bed by habit – like laying out my clothes for the next day. So tired. It’s not that I’ve been doing a ton of manual labor or anything of that sort… it’s the “thought work”. Thought work is real work. Cognitive fatigue is real fatigue. Tired is… tired. It’s important to get the rest we need.
I woke this morning from a deep sound sleep, just ahead of my alarm. I don’t know what woke me. I felt as if I could easily just go right back to sleep, but my scheduled wake-up time was just 5 minutes away, so I got up. I pushed myself through my morning routine, which “unexpectedly” included actually picking out clothes to wear; I didn’t even remember that I’d failed to take care of that task before bed, and was a bit taken by surprise by the lack of clothes already waiting for me. lol The drive to work was effortless to the point of being almost surreal – I hit all but one signal light green, and traffic seemed peculiarly light. The entire drive I had a song stuck in my head that made me think of my Traveling Partner, and by the time I got to the office I was missing him so so much!
I sat down with my coffee, and before I even really planned on doing so I was mired in work tasks and getting the day started – and within minutes, my mind felt “noisy” and filled with details. I paused on the recollection of last night’s intense fatigue, and realized (not for the first time) – I’m doing this to myself, and I have choices.
I stopped. Put aside the work tasks for a few minutes. I put the computer on “sleep” (so that the monitor wasn’t on in front of me at all). I sat gazing out the windows, watching day break, and the sun begin to rise beyond the skyline. Breathe, exhale, relax… repeat. I sat in the stillness for some unmeasured while, letting my thoughts pass through my mind, acknowledged but not interacted with. Breathe, exhale, relax… I listened to the cacophony of crows as they rose from the trees to go wherever crows go during the day. The heat wooshed softly in the background. The sunrise slowly developed, from a deep gray blue to a faded denim blue with hints of pale orange and something like green, and streaked with pink. Breathe, exhale, relax… My tinnitus is ever-present, but not especially loud or distracting this morning; I noticed it, and let that go, too. I gently do a “body scan” without disturbing the stillness of my mind. Back pain? Manageable. Headache? Mild, and not a distraction… in fact, almost not a headache. Nice. Breathe, exhale, relax. My mind slowly calms the fuck down, to a chill state of relaxed attentiveness. No pressure. No rush. Just here. Now. Better.
I feel a smile spread across my face, and stretch. Fluffy pink clouds are distributed across the blue of the western sky and the daylight in the east continues to increase. I reach for this page to write a few words, and here I am. Iced coffee. A few words about a helpful practice that I have learned to count on to relax my mind when it gets “too noisy in here”. Will it work for you, too? I don’t know. Maybe? It for sure works for me – and doesn’t require sitting, either. It works nicely on a walk. It’s a practice that really only requires that I set aside everything else and take a moment for myself to simply be, and to simply give myself a moment of my own time, with nothing else in mind but being here.
I breathe, exhale (more of a contented sigh at this point), and relax… it’s time to begin again. 😀
I’m sipping on the very last of my morning coffee. It’s past noon. It was an iced coffee, though, so it’s still quite nice (if you like coffee). I’m taking a break, pausing my mind and giving myself a real rest for a couple minutes, before moving on to the next busy moment. The sky beyond the window is a brilliant clear blue, something between a “robin’s egg” and a cerulean hue. The sunshine reflects off the residential tower across the park and dazzles me. I consider drawing down the shade a bit to reduce the glare… but… later. For now, I’m enjoying the beautiful blue of the sky.
El Gato – my cat neighbor.
I sip my coffee and think about my garden. The neighbor’s cat started shitting in my damned garden again – ah, yes, signs of Spring! lol Yeah, for now I’m still laughing. El Gato (my nickname for him) is a cranky old half-feral tomcat much-loved by neighborhood children, and fed by my next-door neighbor. He’s not all that friendly, and very particular about any adult attempting to get too near, but he tolerates the kids pretty well. Unfortunately, kids at play are not reliable garden guardians, and given the opportunity, El Gato finds the soft freshly prepared vegetable garden beds quite nice for certain bodily functions I very definitely do not want being handled there. It’s annoying. I’m still laughing, for now, having once been fond of a cat of my own, and having a certain residual appreciation for the monstrous wee wicked carnivores. He’s just being a cat. Still… I can’t be having that nonsense in my food garden, so I sit thinking about my solutions. Once the garden grows in somewhat, he leaves it alone… in the meantime, his dastardly deeds limit how well my garden can grow, so steps must be taken! He’s already wrecked 1 square foot of planted veggies (carrots and radishes), and after I dig out the cat shit, all that has to be replanted. Fucker. For a moment I stop laughing…
…Just the other day I had the passing thought that it might be nice to have a cat around. I am not thinking so now…
Presently, I’m trying to recall whether I still have a bit of that portion of a roll of garden wire-fence material that I used to make the pea trellis last year. If I do, I am planning to resolve my difficulties with El Gato by making it unreasonably difficult for him to step on, or dig in, the garden at all. Problem solved. I do wish the little fucker were litterbox trained. That’d be nice. I guess it’s not a realistic expectation of a feral cat, though.
The deer visit regularly.
I’m reminded of my other garden visitation challenge; the deer love my roses (and some of the herbs, and tops of many of the bulbs)… perhaps another day I will do something about that. I may have to cage one of the roses such that they can’t get to it at all, just to give it a chance to survive. It’s the way of things, eh? There’s just this one planet, we share it creatures who live quite differently than we do, and we don’t share a common language, making boundary-setting conversations rather difficult. I’m not a fan of cruelty… so… there’s a bit of thought and effort involved in communicating boundaries with my four-legged neighbors. Good thing this garden is an endeavor I truly love. 😀 No stress, very little frustration, and tons of laughing, and time spent in the sunshine. That all sounds pretty good, actually. I certainly love the video footage of the deer in my garden, captured by the security camera. I get a lot of (s)mileage out of that. 😀 (I’d still rather they not eat my roses down to the bare canes!)
So… it’s almost here. Spring. My head is filled with roses and flowers and sunny mornings and afternoons in the garden. As my Traveling Partner continues to recover from his injury, and in spite of how lush and beautiful the lawn is, I’m thinking more and more of a second veggie bed, or a bench to sit under the redbud listening to the bees buzz and watching the grass grow. All in due time, I suppose. In the meantime, I’ll enjoy the soft feel of the lush lawn under my feet.
…That blue sky, though, so beautiful…
Ah well. Coffee gone. Break time is over. It’s time to begin again. 😀
My head aches ferociously this morning, some annoying combination headache that grips the base of my skull and holds on, dull and distracting. My tinnitus is loud, and also very annoying. Ah, but this cup of coffee is hot, and properly made, and soothes the part of my brain that very much wishes I were not awake right now at all. A new day begins, and so far… it’s mostly annoying. lol Yes, I’m also mostly laughing it off – because honestly what the hell else can I do with it that might get me somewhere better than this situation right here, right now? I’m just saying, I could choose to be angry about it and mired in my aggravation, but I’m doing my best to not do that.
I was awakened too early; my Traveling Partner was having trouble sleeping because he was congested and having trouble breathing easily, which is most definitely a crappy experience to be having. I woke from a deep sound sleep, cross and alarmed, and concerned that I’d likely not be easily able to get back to sleep (and might also be at risk of escalating the situation into some sort of argument) because of where my head was at when I woke. I chose to get up, dress, and head into the city (so so early) – I knew I could nap on the couch in the lounge for a couple hours before my day typically begins (there wouldn’t be anyone there to be disturbed or inconvenienced). The drive into the city was pleasant, uneventful, and calm; there was no traffic, and I only saw a couple cars passing in the other direction on the entire drive. Once I arrived, I had no difficulty getting more or less comfortable (for most values of “comfortable”) on the couch, and I managed to nap for a couple hours, although the city version of “quiet” is rather noisy for my liking.
I sip my coffee and recognize that some portion of my headache may be the result of the less-than-ideal pillow I was resting my head on, or the position I was in, generally. Still… I did rest, and it is a new day…anyway, I think I had this headache when I woke up earlier. Today I have my appointment with my massage therapist, and that will likely give me considerable relief from this headache.
…Pretty good cup of coffee, too…
Fairly typical of cities, this one seems “flooded with light”, even during the wee empty hours of the night. When I woke, this space seemed “brightly lit”, although there were no lights on. It was just the ambient light of the city itself, and my eyes had adjusted while I dozed. I woke somewhat disoriented (so I know I definitely slept, possibly fairly deeply), confused by the illuminated surroundings, which clashed with my expectation of darkness. Finding my way to the coffee machine in the “darkness” was easy, and the hot cup of coffee was so welcome.
…So here it is a new day…
I sigh and stretch, and rub my aching neck, and sip my coffee. I wonder if my Traveling Partner finally got back to sleep, himself? I hope he did. Being short on sleep sucks.
My mind wanders. I drink my coffee. The pre-dawn sky is still quite dark, and daybreak is still minutes away, and it’ll be more than half an hour after that before the sun rise. For now, I can’t even see whether the sky is cloudy – those details are still obscured by the city lights. Still, it’s interesting enough to simply watch the cars go by on the streets below, and listen to the crows announcing their plans for the morning, while I drink this coffee.
Day breaks, and the crows take flight as a noisy group. Soon enough it’ll be time for coffee #2… and time to begin again.
I had a restless night of interrupted sleep. No bad dreams, just periodically waking up for no obvious reason, before settling into sleep once again. It wasn’t unpleasant, but the night seemed unreasonably long and I got up well ahead of my usual time, dressed, and left for work early. The commute was effortless, because at that hour there was no traffic on the road. Now, I’m sitting at my desk, looking out at the dark pre-dawn cityscape, sipping my coffee. It’s a Tuesday, and my calendar is pretty full, but all that begins quite a bit later, and I have some time to sit with my thoughts.
A cherished handmade gift from a dear friend.
Last night as I was tidying up a quiet room that is mostly decorated with books, I found this small handmade paper journal sort of just set aside, waiting for some moment. It was a gift from my recently deceased dear friend, celebrating my 60th birthday. It was intended to accompany me on a camping trip with my Traveling Partner, and as I recall now, I elected to keep it safe from harm by not taking it out into the wilds where dirt, wind, or rain might wreck it, knowing I’d find some similarly meaningful use for it some other time and place.
It even came with instructions. 😀
I sat for a moment with this cherished gift in my hands, gently unfolding the letter that is still tucked into a pocket inside the cover. I reread the letter, my heart filled with love and fond memories, a soft sad smile on my face. I miss my friend, but how delightful to have this memento of our friendship to remember her by!
Each page decorated by hand, each page unique, bringing to mind the illuminated manuscripts of another age.
I turn the pages, one by one, each one different, each one ready for some thought, or poem, or random handful of words to be written there. I felt so inspired, just to hold it in my hands! I examined each page, reconnecting with so many memories of the friendship we had shared. I delighted in the recollection of her enthusiasm for small handmade gifts, and how extraordinary and special each such gift to me remains to this day. I smiled thinking about her best friend bringing a similar cherished gift to the hospital while I was there visiting, to share that precious memory. What a beautiful human being my dear friend was! She was – is – so well loved by those who knew her. Missed.
“Friendship is a gift that lasts.” – It is indeed.
I turn to a page with a pocket from which a string dangles, and a note attached to the pocket reads “Pull the white string up”, and so I do – and as if speaking to me from “the beyond”, a tag appears that reads “friendship is a gift that lasts”. My eyes fill with tears that don’t fall, and the smile on my face becomes a bit brittle, a little fragile, with this reminder that I was also dear to my dear friend. I feel loved. I feel grateful to have shared this amazing friendship. My smile deepens as I sit with my memories for a moment. I’m okay. Grief is a process, and there is no escaping it; “the way out is through”. Fucking hell, what a first rate friend she truly was.
The last page. A bookmark. A reminder.
I turn page after page of this small handmade journal, and imagine writing in it, at long last. What would I write in such a precious space? What words fit in this slim fragile volume? I imagine for a moment that whatever I wrote here might be something she could read, from wherever her spirit rests. Fanciful, but comforting. The bookmark tucked into the pocket on the last page says only, in large letters, “Roses”. I smile and think about the roses I recently purchased to add to the garden with her – and the memories of our friendship – in mind. I allow myself the fancy of imagining she somehow knew. (Certainly, she knew I love roses.)
What a beautiful little moment! It lingers with me now, and I woke this morning to see the wee journal resting on a cushion, next to my neatly folded clothes, waiting for the new day. Where will this journey take me? What is ahead on this path? I sip my coffee and think happy thoughts of trails to hike, and roses to plant, and long summer days in the garden. I think about the wee journal, and my dear friend, and what words might fill these pages.
My mind wanders to other cherished friendships. I could be a better friend; I make a commitment to reach out to friends I haven’t spoken to recently. I think fondly of my Traveling Partner – our deeply loving relationship is also built on a firm foundation of a cherished friendship. We were friends long before we were ever lovers. I’m grateful for that friendship, it has carried us through some tough times with considerable affection and grace. Whatever else goes on in life, friends are such a huge part of life being worth living in the first place. I sip my coffee and think about how fortunate I am to have the rich friendships I do. The value isn’t in numbers of friends, either, it’s in the quality of enduring friendships, and the love and laughter they bring to this very human experience, that can sometimes feel so lonely otherwise.
I look up as I finish my coffee. The morning sky is hues of blue and shades of gray where clouds crowd the horizon. Daybreak has passed. Sunrise is moments away, although I doubt it will be anything exceptional to see, this morning. Regardless, here it is a new day – and already time to begin again.
Evening Light 