Archives for posts with tag: breathe

Life still happens without much regard to the planning of human beings living their limited mortal lifetimes. Like it or don’t. Plan or don’t. Circumstances will be what they are, independent of our attempts to corral them within the confines of a good plan. I say this as a woman who definitely appreciates a plan.

Before dawn at the start of a planned walk. It’s raining.

I woke early with a plan: get a walk in while my Traveling Partner sleeps, return home and complete a productive work day, hit the road headed for a couple days solo on the coast in the afternoon. Good plan and I woke excited about the day(s) ahead.

… It’s still too dark to start my walk, but it’s pretty clear that I’m likely to be still waiting for a break in the rain (and not going to get one) when daybreak comes. The rain falls steadily.

I check road conditions between here and my planned coastal destination… there is more rain and possible flooding in the forecast. For now, conditions are “fine”, although rainy, between here and there. Flooding is reported, but much further north and much further south. At least, from this early morning vantage point, I’m still on track to head to the coast to get some storm watching in, and maybe a walk on the beach…? Maybe. I intend to bring work with me, too. This is not a vacation so much as a few days of pleasant solo time while my partner works on complicated projects that benefit from focused time uninterrupted by my constant chatter, and without anyone’s feelings being hurt by lack of attention. Still, the whole thing now hinges on the weather; I can hardly drive to the coast if the roads are flooded. So, I keep an eye on the weather and the traffic cams along the route. Waiting. Wondering. Trying not to cling too tightly to my plan. Letting go of assumptions and expectations.

I sigh softly and listen to the rain fall. The sky slowly begins to lighten.

I’m already packed for my wee getaway. I contemplate other potential destinations that might meet the need in a similarly pleasant way. It’s “off season” most places in this area, but I’d be looking for quiet, which shortens the list quite quickly. The last minute planning and execution also shortens the list; it may not be the peak season for travelers and tourists, but a lot of places are full nonetheless.

The rain continues to fall, tapping on the car as if to say “excuse me, you do realize it’s raining?”. lol Yes, yes I do. Rain or no rain, plan or no plan, the day will be what it is. Soon it will be time to begin again.

Another morning, up early for a walk, but instead I am enjoying a quiet moment of solitude, listening to the rain spattering the car (not mocking my intention so much as just the world doing its own thing). I sit for a long while just enjoying the sound of it.

I feel safe and at peace. The morning is quiet, if rainy, and pleasantly relaxed. I listen to the rain and watch the sky slowly take on color, and the horizon begins to reveal details as day breaks. The rain drums aggressively on the roof of the car like an agitated, nervous child. I’m warm and dry, dressed for a rainy day walk, if there is a suitable break in the rain (I don’t mind a drizzle and enjoy a misty rain, but this is more a drenching shower of a rainstorm).

Yesterday I spent the day making holiday cards. I’ve got a fairly short list of recipients, mostly family, and it was a fun activity. Today I’ll finish that project and tuck each card into an envelope ready to go to the post office on Monday.

I stir restlessly in my seat. The rain brings pain with it in the form of my arthritis flaring up. A walk would help, but I don’t see that happening this morning. I chuckle to myself; I’d certainly be on the trail at this point, if it weren’t raining so damned hard.

I smile and think fondly of my Traveling Partner. He delighted me yesterday by making excellent breakfast sandwiches after I returned from my walk. Totally a surprise. I stepped out of the shower smelling bacon, and found him in the kitchen making breakfast. Delicious. I felt so loved. It’s a feeling that lasts, and I feel it still. I sit with my smile and my thoughts, and hoping that he is sleeping in.

I don’t know what today holds, but if it’s another day like yesterday, my partner and I doing our own thing and hanging out together, it’ll be more than enough. I’m still coasting on that feeling of joy. I think about his project and mine, and I make a short list of things I also want to get done before I start a new work week.

… It’s almost time to begin again…

I’m sitting in my car at a favorite trailhead listening to the rain batter the car and feeling it rocked by gusty winds. Dawn has arrived and daybreak reveals gray skies. I’m not surprised, and knew when I woke that it would likely be a rainy morning.

The drive to this trail is about 40 minutes. It was more than quiet. Without exaggerating, I can say that it was eerie, surreal, and strangely like an end-of-the-world sci-fi adventure; there was no traffic. There were simply no other cars on the road, which is so unusual I began checking the time repeatedly, wondering if it was somehow much earlier than I thought. I scanned the neighborhoods I drove past, looking for lights on, anywhere. The world slept, or had been abandoned, it seemed. It was spooky. Traffic signals operated normally. No other cars. I drove past a huge car dealership all lit up. No people. Past a hospital, no sign of anyone else. Past a shopping center, no one in sight. No sign of anyone else, anywhere. Super strange.

As I neared my destination, I came to a hill, and the one car I would see (on the whole drive) came the other direction, high beams on. “Asshole.” I said to myself when the driver didn’t turn their lights down, momentarily blinding me.

I continued my journey, musing about the high likelihood, demonstrated on my drive, that about half of the people in a given place and time are going to be assholes… Then I noticed that I had forgotten that my own high beams were on. lol …I realized that it’s probably also true that about half of the people in a given place and time are probably stupid people… And that it’s not going to be obvious at all which are which, just looking at them. I laugh out loud wondering whether I’m stupid or an asshole. I decide I’ve probably spent plenty of time in both categories over the years (don’t we all?), and make room to cut myself (and that other driver) a little slack for being so very human.

… Still super weird that I only saw one car on the entire drive…

I get to the trailhead safely and park. I sit listening to the rain and watching for dawn to become daylight, hoping for the rain to ease up enough to get a good walk in, happy to have something to do while my Traveling Partner gets some sleep.

The big oaks on the slope are a dark brown silhouetted against a stormy blue-gray sky. I’m still alone here, some time later, which is unusual but welcome. I listen to the geese overhead. The rain stops. It’s time to begin again.

Where does this path lead?

I’m sitting here watching the sun rise. I’m fortunate to have (and enjoy) the opportunity. I was out on the trail early, just at daybreak. It’s a frosty cold Autumn morning, here. There’s no rush to return home, and I know these early hours are good ones for giving my Traveling Partner a bit of time to get some sleep. We each have our different difficulties with sleep, and getting out of the house for a morning walk is one great way for me to show how much I care.

… And I enjoy the walk, the sunrise, and the quiet time alone, for myself…

Enough light to see the trail.

This morning I get back to the car too early to consider heading home, and haven’t yet gotten a “good morning” message from my partner, so I take time to meditate, and to sketch the gnarled old oak on the slope in front of my parked car. I’m bundled up for winter weather, but as the minutes pass, I become restless and ready to move on with the day. There’s a tree to decorate in the living room and I am filled with festive joy.

… It’s still pretty early. Saturday. I consider heading toward home and perhaps stopping along the way, maybe a bit of shopping?

I smile knowing my partner is getting the rest he needs.

Migrating flocks pass by overhead.

I listen to the sounds of migrating flocks of birds passing by. It’s a new day. It’s time to begin again.

I’m grateful for the terrible cup of coffee in my hand as I walk this morning. I switch hands with it, warming each in turn, walking and watching the sun rise. There’s mist in the low lands along the marsh, but it looks like blue skies above, so perhaps a sunny day ahead?

I stop and set down my coffee to take an occasional picture.

I walk and watch the dawn become day. The air is crisp, clean, and cold. Frost edges the shrubs and dry grasses. The gravel of the path crunches under my footsteps. Lovely morning for a walk along the edge of the marsh, in spite of the cold.

The path beyond me beckons.

I walk with my thoughts. My heart is filled with love and gratitude. What a pleasant holiday my Traveling Partner and I shared! The meal was excellent. The day was merry, and we delighted in each other’s company all day long. We each exchanged holiday well-wishes with friends and loved ones over the course of the day. We had everything we needed and more, and it wasn’t necessary to go out into the world or run any errands. We enjoyed the day at home.

It’s a new day now. I’m enjoying this quiet time on the trail on a chilly Autumn morning. I wonder if my partner went back to bed for a bit more sleep? I smile and finish this dreadful cup of coffee before it goes cold, and drop the cup into a trash can on my way back to the car. It’s already time to begin again.

A new day