Archives for posts with tag: breathe exhale relax

In spite of it having rained through the night, this picnic table I’m sitting on had a dry spot pretty much just the right size to comfortably sit for a few minutes. I can see the full moon peeking from the clouds as they drift past, under this natural awning of evergreen boughs. Nice spot to sit awhile in the pre-dawn darkness. I turn off my headlamp and enjoy the quiet moment. Somewhere in the distance I hear traffic, and the sound of human endeavors.

“Enjoy it while you can.” I think to myself. The world is messy and complicated and frankly a little scary. Talk of curtailing banking regulations that explicitly protect consumers and the potential withdrawal of approval of the fucking polio vaccine just terrify me. (Why would anyone even want these kinds of terrible changes?!) Not gonna lie – these are trying times, and I feel it. I make a point to take time to sit, to reflect on the things in life that matter and bring me joy, and to feel gratitude for the many advances humanity has made. The risks and problems that plague us all too often get all the attention.

… It’s important to give myself a break from all that…

I grin in the darkness, swinging my feet like an excited child when I think about Giftmas. The holiday is almost here! The shopping is done. Presents are wrapped and waiting under the tree. I’m eager to share that joy with my Traveling Partner. It’s good to see his progress as he continues to recover from his injury and subsequent surgery. I find myself “missing the man that he was” much less often, because I find him standing beside me once again so much more often, now. Feels good. Feels safe and encouraging. I fucking love this man, and he has become part of me. I’ve been tremendously worried for the past year, and it feels good to finally feel some relief from my fear and worry, and to feel truly hopeful again.

The moon appears again, fat and round and luminous, as if to say “I see you”. A spattering of raindrops fall from the branches overhead, shaken loose by the breeze. My heart feels full of goodness and hope and gratitude, and it’s a lovely feeling to start the day with. I glance at the time. It’s a work day. Time to get back on the path and head back to the car. Time to begin again.

It rained through the night, off and on. It was raining when I left the house this morning, heading for the trailhead up the road a way. The rain starts and stops. It’s fine. There’s plenty of space between the raindrops to walk, and I’ve got my cheap rain poncho. Good enough. It’s still raining, mostly, but not very hard, mostly. I’m okay with a little rain.

I’m fortunate to be near a bit of shelter when the sky breaks open and dumps an aggressive quantity of rain down, making a lot of puddles and a tremendous racket. For these few minutes, standing out of the rain, writing, I don’t hear my tinnitus at all. The rain is louder, pummeling the path, leaves, and marshy places, and hiding the full moon that had been lighting my way.

… Beautiful moon… beautiful rain storm… beautiful moment…

I sigh quietly and stand listening to the rain, and smelling the scents of autumn. Somewhere, someone has a fire going in their fireplace, reminding me that this hint of wild places between river and marsh is quite surrounded by suburban life. As the rain begins to slow down, I hear the familiar sound of traffic on the wet highway beyond this nature park. I can’t see it from this vantage point, only cloudy soggy sky overhead and silhouettes of trees along the path.

It’s a pleasant quiet moment. I’ve things to do later, mostly routine Sunday housework and a couple of errands, but also some gift wrapping to get done, and holiday cards to address and prepare for mailing. It feels a little last minute to be doing the cards in the middle of December, but they’ll likely reach their destinations in time, and it’s not worth any amount of stress, anyway. I choose to do them, it’s not a graded homework assignment. lol

The rain stops. Somewhere nearby the Canada geese are gronking. I wonder what may have disturbed their rest, then see a small light bobbing along. I’m apparently sharing the trail this morning. I finish up my writing. It’s time to walk on. The journey is the destination, and it’s a good time to begin again.

I don’t see the full moon until I reach the trailhead. It peeks out from between stormy clouds. The wind blows ferociously and the clock on my microwave alerted me this morning that at some point during the night the power had been out; the time was no longer set. The wind howls through bare trees, sounding a lot like winter, but the temperature is balmy, mild, and feels almost warm. Everything is soggy and a smattering of raindrops continues to fall. I sit contentedly on the hood of my car for a few minutes, boots on, cane beside me, ready to walk a couple miles along the edge of the marsh before the sun rises, trail faintly illuminated by the full moon.

… This? Right here, now? Excellent moment.

Stormy morning, full moon.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s a Saturday morning, and I’m in no hurry. I’ve got the park and trail to myself, and that beautiful moon overhead. No reason to rush – and all the best reasons to savor this moment and be fully present in it. I take a few minutes to write some words; this is worth remembering, reinforcing, and reflecting upon, it’s that good.

The sprinkle of rain stops. It’s time to begin again.

The trailhead parking is thankfully empty today. My “extra headache” has abated (but my Traveling Partner and the Anxious Adventurer now seem to have it, so maybe some kind of illness going around). The rain has been quite light and intermittent. I swap my shoes for my hiking boots, expecting to get a walk in before work this morning.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. My neck aches ferociously and my tinnitus is quite loud this morning. Typical physical bullshit I deal with daily, and this morning I don’t let it wreck my mood. I am feeling the holiday spirit this year, more than some years. I enjoy the excitement and feeling of being “lifted up”. It’ll no doubt pass; most emotional experiences are very temporary. I’m okay with that. I’m enjoying it now, and listening to the rain fall. I’ve got holiday carols stuck in my head and just now realized I haven’t sent cards! LOL

… I guess I’ll do that this weekend…

It’s a nice morning for beginnings. I listen to the traffic rolling by on the wet highway. The rain has stopped, at least for now, and it’s definitely time to begin again. I grab my cane and my headlamp and get on with it.

It’s a time of year I’m often thinking about presents, more than I am thinking about presence, but there are a lot of good reasons to pause for a moment and reflect on really simply being, in the moment I’m standing in. I sip my coffee a little vacantly; I’m slow to get things going this morning, and woke too early for no obvious reason. I’m feeling a little sluggish, and a lot distracted – only there’s nothing really going on “in here”. I’m just existing for a moment, a little inclined to wait it out for the next moment.

I watched a video (again) yesterday evening that really “speaks to me”. The topic is Ichigo Ichie, and it is about presence – being in the moment. I think about the idea of being present, and understanding each lived moment as an entirely unique, unrepeatable experience. I breathe, exhale, and relax, and sip my coffee thoughtfully, awake and aware, letting my senses fill up with this moment right here. I skipped my walk this morning. I have a painful headache and headlights sweeping across my eyes in the darkness was unpleasant, so I came directly to the office. It’s chilly in the office, somewhat unpleasantly so, but maybe it’s just me? The experience of ambient temperature can be such a subjective thing. I sit quietly with my thoughts and this moment for a little while.

…13 days until Giftmas. I’m not exactly counting down the days, but I’m aware of the holiday drawing near. There’s very little left to do about it, besides enjoy the moments. The weekend will come, and with it the final payday before the holiday. I’ll finish up small purchases for Giftmas stockings, and stock the pantry with favorite holiday treats. I remind myself to talk over the holiday meal with my Traveling Partner and figure out the menu for brunch on Giftmas morning. I smile thinking about it. There have been years of such tremendous struggle – this doesn’t feel like that, and I explore the feeling of quiet joy, and relative ease. There’s very little stress, and that feels very good. I let myself enjoy the awareness of the lack of stress – that seems like something worth savoring.

I think about my Dear Friend. It’s still quite odd to be enjoying the holiday season without her presence in the background of every activity and every moment of joy. I shared so much with her, I sometimes feel a little lost, as if standing on something very unsteady and having to find my balance. We shared so many Giftmases together over the years of our friendship – about 10 of those in person, for at least some portion of the Yule holiday season, and through conversation and email for all the rest that followed my break-up with my previous partner, who had been her son. It’s a strange path we each take through life. Quite an interesting journey, and I was fortunate to share so much of it with my Dear Friend. I’m not feeling tragic about it, this morning, just sitting with the wonders of holidays past, that we enjoyed together. I remember a particular holiday, trudging happily through sloppy streets, ankle deep in slush and snow, finishing the holiday shopping as I made my way to the train station to meet my Dear Friend. Some details stand out quite sharply (like the snow, and the cold, and the starry night), others much less so (was she traveling alone? Was I?). I smile and think about what matters most in life, and on this very human journey.

I sigh quietly, sipping my coffee, sitting with my thoughts in this moment right here. It’s a good moment. I feel connected and present, and ready to begin again.