Archives for posts with tag: being and becoming

I am lingering in this moment, waiting for a break in the rain at this favorite trailhead. Nice morning for walking, if the rain stops for a little while. The forecast suggests it will, soon.

For some time I simply sat quietly, listening to the rain, the traffic on the nearby highway, and my tinnitus. A pleasant and uncomplicated interlude, and time well-spent alone with my thoughts, just being.

I am contemplating contemplation. Thinking about vita contemplativa. Considering solitude, stillness, and self-reflection. I am pondering presence, and the idea of ichi-go ichi-e. We live such busy lives. It’s clear to me that there is more to living a “good life” than being busy. Work and “productive effort” really isn’t all there is, and I have real doubts that it is even the most important part of life… In fact, I’m fairly certain it is not. So much of what we are exists apart from the work that we do.

Work and consumption and doom-scrolling through the various feeds seeking to profit from my attention span are a relatively meaningless piece of my life. Why let these details consume my precious limited mortal lifetime? There’s so much else to experience, to enjoy, and to feel. I sit with my thoughts and my awareness of this moment. Time becomes irrelevant when I am fully present in my life, experiencing the journey, awake, aware, and really “here for it”.

I’m not busy right now. That’s intentional. I’m also not bored, nor seeking anything to become busy with. I’m okay with this quiet moment spent with my thoughts, living this moment, listening to the rain fall, and watching the slow approach of dawn.

When was the last time you took a moment to do nothing at all, but to do that very deliberately, quite aware of your experience of the moment, simply being, without agenda or impatience? Without drama or bullshit? Without occupying your attention with a screen in front of you or a device in your hand? I’m finding such experiences very worthwhile, restful, luxurious, delicious moments of freedom from the clock, “hearing myself think”.

I write a few words. I’ll sit awhile longer. The rain will stop, and I’ll lace up my boots, pick up my cane, and head down the trail eager to begin again, aware how much it matters to really experience the journey.

With the dawn, a new beginning.

I’m sipping my coffee. Just that. I’m taking a moment of time out of the day to simply sit, quietly. Not only is there no “shame” in taking this time for myself, between doing the budget for this pay period and starting the workday, it’s quite necessary for me to thrive that I take this time to simply be. No pressure to perform. No agenda. Nothing that must be done right this minute. There are opportunities to make room for stillness throughout any given day – for all of us – it’s a matter of taking that time and making it one’s own. It does require an act of will, particularly on a busy or stressful day. A moment spent just being… not fixing things, not ruminating over the latest stressful detail, not troubleshooting nor planning, simply a moment of stillness spent… being. I breathe, exhale, and relax.

…I could be doing a thing, my busy brain reminds me somewhat anxiously…

Another breath, another sip of coffee. I look out the window onto the morning. It’s not yet daybreak, and there is no hurry. There’s only this moment, and me, some stillness, and this coffee. It’s enough. More than that, it’s quite necessary.

…Metaphorically speaking…

I sit contentedly for some time before I turn back to my computer to write these few words about that simple experience. It does require a choice. Recognition that I am deserving of my own time and attention for this little while. The willingness to make inaction the action I am choosing to indulge for some little while. Purposeful contented stillness in the midst of a busy day feels… luxurious. No shame, guilt, nor reqret, just a lovely moment spent on… quietly being.

I am reading Vita Contemplativa by Byung-Chul Han. A worthy read about the pursuit and value of inactivity. The luxury of leisure. The worthiness of stillness to fuel creativity and thought. Another quite slim, small volume filled with big thoughts. I’m having to take it in small moments to give myself the chance to reflect and consider what I’ve read – and I am inspired. These notions about the value of stillness, inactivity, and rest really resonate with me.

I consider my dueling nature; the artist and the analyst. The girl who can read for hours and the woman who is aware there is yet more housekeeping to do. The daydreamer whiling away the day and the purposeful individual completing tasks on a list one by one. The driver heading for the horizon without a destination, and the one with a carefully planned route to a place that must be reached. The woman with a deadline and the one who does not care about time. What matters most, I wonder? Who am I when I am alone with the woman in the mirror?

I smile to myself. Having succeeded in taking a few minutes to just be, and to enjoy that moment without anxiety – or purpose – really refreshed and energized me. I feel “ready for the day” in some way that I don’t reach any other way. Is this “real” or an illusion? Does that even matter, if this is the experience I am having?

I glance at the time and finish my writing. I’ll finish, here, then finish my coffee without hurrying the moment. Stillness and time to reflect and simply be, first – I can begin again sometime after that. My calendar and my list will still be waiting there for me.

Where does this path lead?

I’ve gone down a strange rabbit hole of self-reflection over my coffee this morning, thinking about “meaning”, “purpose”, “gratitude”, and “authenticity”. It started simply enough with the thought that I might write a few words on being positive in life, which quickly got tangled up in thoughts of how to do that… or… become that… This lead me to contemplating authenticity, and how necessary and valuable that is (in my opinion). Giving thought to how to become a more positive person (which took me quite some time and practice, myself) and the need to approach that from a place of authenticity took me further to thoughts of gratitude, practicing gratitude, and the feelings that doing so give me (which I find profoundly uplifting and positive as a practice).

…Somehow I found myself thinking of meaning, and living a meaningful life, and feeling a sense of purpose, which got me considering more deeply the nuances of both “meaning” and “purpose”…

Here I sit with my coffee, meditating on the meaning of “meaning” and the purpose of “purpose”, and the differences between them, and the places where they intersect in my life, and… how I got here in the first place. Eventually, I Googled “difference between purpose and meaning” and read a few of the results. I found myself nodding now and then, and other times disagreeing with some detail, and never quite “answering the question” – which I hadn’t framed as a question in the first place. Is this useful self-reflection? Am I considering deeply some important ideas the results of which may further my journey or light my path in some way? Am I wasting precious limited mortal time? Some combination of all of these?

I sip my coffee and think my thoughts. I’m grateful for the questions, and I’m okay with lacking clear answers. I’m content to play with the words in my head on a Thursday morning, reflecting on this human journey, and where I’ve been, and where I’m headed. I enjoy the moment, and my coffee; it’s enough. The questions linger, and I’m okay with that. Questions make good beginnings.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s a cold morning, below freezing. I spent my walk with gloved hands jammed in my pockets. The light of my headlamp bobbed along seeming thin and inadequate. S’ok, I got a walk. Good exercise. Good start to the day.

I get back to the car before daybreak. I’m working from home today because my Traveling Partner’s Giftmas gift will be delivered and I’ll need to sign for it. I probably didn’t need to start out so early. lol I see a hint of color on the eastern horizon, as I warm up in the car, and change out of my boots.

A new day begins.

An ordinary enough Friday, I suppose. The sunrise begins, more colorful than I expect, and I sit to watch it. Why not? It’s early. Worth the time to see such beauty, isn’t it?

Silhouettes and colors.

I sit present, enjoying the sunrise, nothing else on my mind. Good use of time on a frosty morning.

Trying to capture the rich colors is tricky.

I sit with smiling and thinking over how to capture these colors in pastel, some other time and realize my mind (and presence) have wandered from this moment, here. I bring myself back. It’ll be soon enough that I’ll have to begin the day in earnest. It’s worth savoring this lovely moment right here.

… Later, I’ll begin again.

Thanksgiving dinner was delightful and delicious. Everything came to the table hot and I’m pleased and satisfied with the outcome, generally. Oh, sure, the stuffing was a little dry (I tried a better quality cubed bread, but didn’t correctly account for the additional liquid I’d need, and failed to crush some of it to crumbs), and I didn’t also make rolls or biscuits (are you fucking kidding me? I made the meal without help, and only have 1 oven and four burners! lol). Still, the “bitching” about those details wasn’t a big deal and overall the meal was well-received.

… The sous vide turkey was fucking amazing!…

By the end of the evening, we were all relaxing, food put away, dishes cleared, kitchen tidied up, and the first load of dishes in the dishwasher, watching old UFC fights and having a merry good time. My feet were hurting like crazy from being on them all day. I’m pretty sure everyone was in pain from their own limits being reached over the course of the day. I was tired, too. Up early, at it all day…no nap. lol Like a little kid, I was at risk of being moody and emotional. I went to bed abruptly when it was suddenly super clear that any little thing might set me off.

… Because little things had begun to set me off, not because I’m emotionally aware and wise from experience. Just human…

Oh damn, what a lovely Thanksgiving, though. Leftovers, too. Yummy. Today? Well, I’ll be safely at home not shopping, putting up the Giftmas tree and decorating the house with festive things. No way am I going out into the retail chaos today! There was already traffic at 05:00 a.m.! Fuck that.  I’ve got better things to do.

Long weekend. If I get the tree done today, I am hoping to paint tomorrow. My Traveling Partner has brought something to my creative experience that no previous partnership has; structure. He’s been actively encouraging me to make a point of painting on Saturday. I’m not entirely sure why, exactly, but having that bit of structure has been…nice. I paint more, and it’s becoming an actual practice, which feels good and definitely nurtures something within me. Easy enough to also do laundry, rotating the loads between paintings and folding things and putting it away after the painting is all done, or while taking a break to think about the next piece.

As things are these days, I quite literally do not have any “days off”, at all, unless I leave for the coast or to go camping. There’s just too much to do, and I’m also employed full-time. I’m not even bitching (well, maybe a little); there’s just too much non-negotiable workload between work, household upkeep, caregiving, and errands that need to be run. It can’t not get done, and at least for now it all falls to me day-to-day (although the Anxious Adventurer handles the majority of the heavy work to do with things in the shop, or big projects like assembling furniture or the hot tub maintenance). I’m damned lucky any day I can sit down for a few minutes. Even taking time to shower sometimes feels like a luxury. Having my partner’s encouragement to paint, in spite of all that… well, I feel very loved.

I manage to keep getting a walk each morning, and making time to write. Self-care matters, and these practices fit neatly into a time of day in which I wouldn’t be inclined to do noisier things around the house. It’s something. It’s a lot, really. I’m grateful for these quiet moments alone with myself. They’re as important to me as time spent at my easel.

A new day.

I stop at a convenient picnic table along the trail and write for a few minutes. Chilly morning. Gray daybreak becomes a gray dawn. Looks like a gray autumn day ahead. I listen to a flock of Canada geese pass overhead.

I’m grateful for this good life, and each new day. Yesterday I made time to renew connections with old friends, and distant family. Our relationships matter more than most other things about being human. I’ve got some good friends. I smile thinking about the various conversations about food and recipes. What a delightful thing to share. I feel fortunate. I sit awhile reflecting on life, recipes – and gratitude.

The day stretches ahead of me. It’s already time to begin again.