Archives for posts with tag: breathe

I stepped outside for a break. Sunshine in one direction, rain clouds in the other, and me in the middle enjoying the hint of a fine mist that suggests it may actually rain, before the day ends. I inhale deeply, exhale, relax, and realize I didn’t write this morning… or yesterday. Well… distracted by life? That’s not so bad. In my case, it is an indication, generally, that all is well. (At least that is what it has come to mean, over time.)

I return to my desk, and a long list of things that need to be done, content to do a few more of those before the work week comes to a timely end. I hit play on this playlist… and begin again.

I see another doctor today, up at the VA. I haven’t reliably had good experiences with medical care. That’s not an uncommon experience for people. I found myself feeling tense in advance, and aggravated ahead of any clear reason to feel aggravated, and on top of all that, I’m in pain. I was fussing over it internally, and it had grown to the size of a wee demon capable of wrecking my mood entirely – or my day. Considering the pleasant morning I had with my Traveling Partner this morning, that seemed pretty “unfair”…

I took a minute for a break in the sunshine – a rare sunny winter afternoon, uncommonly mild (although a bit chilly in the shade) – and asked myself “the hard question”; do I have a practice for this situation? I had to admit to myself, yeah, actually, I do.

I stood there in the sunshine, feeling it warm my back, vaping, blowing clouds in the direction of the clear blue sky visible between slumbering chunks of concrete and steel, pocked with windows. Breathe. Exhale. Relax. I started letting go of my assumptions and expectations of this appointment, allowing all that baggage to fall away. I gave myself room to accept my anxiety and my anger – then I let those go, too, with some self-directed kindness, and compassion. I finished my break, eventually, with a reminder to assume positive intent – yes, even about this – so I can go into this appointment with fresh eyes, open to a new outcome. Ready to listen deeply. Ready to answer questions from the perspective of (likely) sincere interest in my health and well-being. Ready to answer those questions gently, and directly, without a lot of “extra” discourse. One at a time, as they are, without reading into them. (Tall ask, honestly, still… a worthy endeavor.)

I’m okay. I’m ready for this. This moment here? It’s not about that. It’s about beginning again. 🙂

I woke before dawn. As daylight began to shift the darkness to light, a foggy damp morning begins to reveal itself. Colder than yesterday, but not icy, probably a good one for an early walk, I think to myself, rather unenthusiastically, as it happens.

I consider the morning, and the moment.

I sip my coffee, dressed for walking. Yesterday it took a peculiarly long time to “talk myself into it”, and strangely, I was still halfheartedly trying to excuse myself from not going for a walk, although I feel better, and enjoy my day more, when I hit the trail for a couple of miles. That time alone with my thoughts, free of media inputs and other consciousnesses, is more than valued; it is part of what keeps me mentally and emotionally well. Dodging the effort is not a helpful thing. So, out I went. I returned home feeling sated, refreshed, and accomplished; 3 miles felt comfortable. The hill is no longer daunting, it’s just a hill.

This morning, I know I’ll go. Soon. I’ll finish this coffee, and lace up my boots, grab my cane, and go. I may drive up to the path along the Columbia river, this morning. Seems a lovely morning for it.

The morning continues to lighten, as the day develops, quietly.

There is so much disappointing chaos, corruption, and madness, in the world right now. I sometimes find it terrifying. I nearly always find it disheartening. I walk in the mornings, listening to bird song and breezes, and the sound of my footsteps, and let all of that go for at least a couple miles, and a handful of pleasant moments. The weekends feel shorter without the walks. Funny how this time spent with – and for – myself can seem to “stretch time”. I breath, exhale, and relax. I feel the hint of a smile on my face.

…Nice morning for walking…

My mind wanders pleasantly to the Spring ahead. Is it too soon to plan that first camping trip? Where would I go? The coast? The forest? Will the end of March (specifically, the Vernal Equinox) be too soon? (I don’t much like camping if the evenings/nights are cold; it makes my bones ache.) The winter has been strangely mild, perhaps the Spring will be unusually warm? (It may be unusually cold…) I smile at my own eagerness, sipping my coffee and delaying the start of my walk, to consider walking elsewhere, weeks from now. I am amused, without irritation, at the implied internal conflict. This morning, I am gentle with myself, uncritical, and unhurried. There is time for meditation. Time for coffee. Time for the outside temperature to warm up another degree or two. There is even time to recharge my wearable device, so handy for tracking my mileage.

I contentedly dilly-dally over my morning coffee, savoring the morning quiet. I appreciate it, and it is enough.

Mindfulness, perspective, & sufficiency: ingredients for a lovely morning.

I finish my coffee and lace my boots. It’s time to begin again.

It seems such a simple thing, after a while (meditation, I mean). Breathe, exhale, relax, present in this “now” moment, focused on my breath. I queue up a playlist that feels right for the moment (sometimes just sounds of rain, or the trickling of a stream, other times, as with this morning, a long mix of something “atmospheric”, today it is deep, heavy, luscious, lazy, with a relaxed easy beat). I let go of ego and worry and all the bits and pieces of “thinking” and just go with breathing. Meditation doesn’t require anything particularly fancy. It doesn’t cost money. It does take time, a little, and practice – not as much of that as one might expect, to get started down the path, and eventually, the practice is just a thing I do. 🙂

I woke early this morning. I didn’t have to be up, and it is, as yet, too dark outside to be certain whether the morning will be suited to walking. Yesterday wasn’t, and it was disappointing, although the day itself was quite lovely and well-spent.

Now here’s another new day, another new beginning. I start it with coffee, and with meditation. I read awhile. I sit down later (and here we are!) to wander through my thoughts and write a few words. The music plays on. I think of dear friends. I think of the day ahead. I think of the peculiar weather this year. I think of what to do about dinner later. I think about the pain in my back, which reminds me to correct my posture, to breathe, to exhale, to relax. I let go to the immediate hope that “it won’t be too bad today”, knowing that such wishes become expectations, which become a colossal let down later on. Pain is pain. I’ve still got a life to live, and I’ll do my best with that, as long as I am able. 🙂

The music plays on. My body rocks with the beat. My fingers on the keyboard find their pace in the rhythm. For a moment I feel this “now” as a single note in a greater song. Another breath, and it’s time to begin again.

I noticed the peculiar balmy quality to the air this morning, on the way to work. It persisted through the day. Warmer weather than is typical for January. The air is soft and very still, and the scent of it hints at summer storms. Decidedly peculiar weather.

I enjoyed the commute home more than I generally do. It felt easy. Effortless. Unfettered. The sky looked stormy, without looking anything like winter, somehow. The temperature remained quite mild, even into the evening. I went for take-out, for dinner. I went to the store a bit later. I had the energy to do this-n-that – maybe borrowed from the stormy sky. Still no rain falling, just the scent of the hint of a promise of rain… later. I smiled as I drove home. I smiled as I drove through town, first on one errand, then on the next. I pulled into the driveway smiling.

The weekend is here. I’m still smiling.

The amount of pain I am in is every bit as uncomfortable as the worst winter I’ve ever had with my arthritis. Something like 30 years of pain-filled winters; every winter feels like the worst one, ever. I wonder for a moment if, in fact, they’re all quite similar, and I simply lack the capacity to recall it with clarity. Sitting here in pain tonight, I kind of appreciate that possibility. It is what it is, though, and bitching about it as endlessly as I experience it doesn’t help with the pain, and doesn’t improve the experience, so… I let it go. Over and over again, I notice the pain, with a breath, with a movement, with the completion of one task or another, or just a change of position. I notice it. I let it go. When it is too much to bear, at all, I fall back on a pain reliever. I try to get by without them. I don’t find them something worth counting on. I’m frustrated with the song and dance involved with every refill, every new doctor, every change of health coverage; most of the time, I’d rather be in pain that deal with any of that. Sometimes, it’s too much to argue with, and I reach for relief.

Here’s the thing, though; I’m enjoying my life, generally, in spite of the pain. That seems an important detail. I hold on to that for a few moments. I make the effort to focus on that, more than the pain.

My sleep has gone to crap, again. No idea why. I remind myself it’s a thing I’m aware I deal with, and have since… yeah, I don’t have a memory of a time in my life without sleep disturbances of one sort or another. I shrug without thinking, and feel the pain in my spine flare up, in this new place I don’t remember hurting before quite recently. Annoying. I take a deep breath and coax my shoulders into relaxing once more. Tonight? Yep. I took a pain reliever. Are you kidding me? Pain sucks, and also, I’d like to hurt at least enough less to sleep a few hours, if not deeply, at least straight through without waking. Goals. lol

All of this is so… human.

I listen to the last of the rush hour traffic whooshing by, on the street. I think about the trail I plan to walk, tomorrow, and wonder which turns to take, and where I’ll turn around and head back for home. There’s a longer loop trail near by, and extension of another familiar walk. Maybe I’ll take that walk, and push past my recent distance, for a grander goal? I feel twinges of pain mocking my intentions…

I shrug all that off, quite deliberately, and imaging an obscene gesture at my unseen enemy. “You don’t tell me!” I think… I’ll just begin again. 😉