4 days to the start of my new job. It’s a Thursday, today. Tomorrow I should get the next update from my new employer with login details and such. The new laptop is already here. I’m excited about this next new beginning, and I am entirely over any grieving that resulted from the abrupt and unanticipated but mostly decently well-managed lay-off from my previous job. I’ve greatly enjoyed the luxury of having two months “off” between these jobs – I feel really ready to get on with things. 🙂 I got a lot of projects done at home, too, and spent ample time in the garden, and out on trails with my camera in my hand. 😀
Yesterday is already a bit of a blur. Honestly, a lot of the days behind me now are a tad “blurry” – my Traveling Partner has taken up quite a bit of our shared time with discussions about his/our new business, the CNC machine that should be supporting it (and frankly isn’t), and the stress of evaluating whether this new CNC machine is the POS that it seems it may be, and what to replace it with (and how to get that done sooner than later). Me getting back to work is a helpful stress reducer for both of us; it’s our safety net, and provides continuous revenue to support growing a young business. Over coffee this morning we follow-up on previous conversations CNC-wise, and make some growth-focused decisions that may have been “too risky” if I were going to be out of work for a longer indefinite period. It’s an exciting time. Stressful, too, but mostly exciting.
Yesterday afternoon I got a couple hours of solo time at home – a rare treat. My partner and his son headed to the city for adventure. I had expected they might be gone many hours… Nope. The city has “gotten pretty bad” over the past couple years, and the rampant homelessness problem that has created a lot of trash and vermin on downtown streets, and seen tent villages rise on corners and in community parks all over, is worse than inconvenient and unattractive – it’s actually created considerable risk just being in those downtown areas at all. Violent crime and property crime, street corner harassment, vehicle thefts and break-ins… it’s all pretty common in the city these days. Shootings are routine. I’m grateful that we moved well away from the city.
My partner and his son returned home after just a couple hours (basically the time it takes to drive there and back). I think their plan is to head out for some other place at some point today. I’m looking forward to having that time to myself to chill, reflect, and be ready for the new job next week. 😀 It’s been nice visiting with my step-son, and hanging out the three of us as a family, but… I am “all peopled out” (and have been for awhile) and I’ll definitely benefit from having some quiet time at home. My partner “gets it”, although we’re quite different in this regard, and he has maintained a steady commitment to getting me that time that I need while his son is visiting. There are for sure things they’d like to do together. 🙂
So… here it is an new day. Heading quickly toward a new beginning. It’s time for change. It’s time to begin again. 😀
Well, it’s been not quite two weeks since the lay-off. I’m pretty okay. There are things to do, steps to take, appointments to keep, and all of it needs the same sort of consistent focused attention as any other set of work-related tasks. It’s hardly any different, although my time is so entirely more “my own” than it otherwise would be. That’s worth thinking about. There’s something to learn here.
The week ahead seems pretty full. No slack in it. I’ve got a couple interviews. A couple errands to run. A meeting with a career counselor sort of person with the State as part of the unemployment process. A meeting with a “land softly” sort of professional provided by my former employer. Meetings are meetings. Feels like I’m still working. lol Routine. The lay-off itself already feels like a far more distant moment than the 12 days ago it actually was. I start to wonder if that perspective is “strange” and quickly lose interest and move on to studying a professional field of endeavor adjacent to my “regular” day-to-day sort of professional role. It sounds interesting, and I feel ready for a change. Maybe this is a good time?
I laugh at myself for thinking – even for a moment – that I’m organized about all of this. I just now managed to hold on to “today is Sunday” simultaneously with “don’t forget to submit your weekly unemployment claim”. LOL (It’s just a task, and quickly handled.) It feels good to be this relaxed. It’s been too rare. That’s on me, though, for sure – that’s not about “work” in any way. I tend to be wound a bit tight, is all. It’s likely not healthy. This moment to really breathe, to let it all go quite properly, to take leisurely morning hikes with my camera, to come home in the middle of the morning and make home made breakfast sandwiches for brunch with my partner, to take my time with a new book… all of it matters. This is life being lived. There’s room in that for work – there sort of has to be; life can be fucking expensive and having a bit of cash flow is handy.
Now, if I’m wise I’ll seek ways to hang on to some of this when I return to work. If I’m thoughtful and studious about the verbs involved, I may even succeed! I wonder what the future holds…
Sometimes we choose change. Sometimes change is simply part of the flow of events around us and we see it coming. Sometimes change is dropped on us unexpectedly, rocking us off our center and creating chaos.
This week I got laid off from a job I really enjoyed. Good culture. Great colleagues. Good pay and benefits. I’ll miss all of that. Change is.
Getting the news in the moment was hard. It was unexpected, and it was an intensely emotional personal experience in a professional setting. Uncomfortable. I feel fortunate to have experience practicing non-attachment. I feel fortunate to have a romantic partnership built on shared values and mutual respect that supports and encourages me through change. I feel fortunate that we are relatively well-prepared for something like this, and that the job market looks very promising, in spite of so much news about companies doing lay-offs. (There are just as many articles about companies hiring, and no shortage of opportunities in my feeds.) So, it becomes a matter of practices (like meditation, like non-attachment, like good self-care) suddenly becoming relevant (…”this is not a drill!”), and supremely helpful.
I woke yesterday to the relative luxury of my time being wholly my own. I took time to get a sunrise walk in, camera in hand. Spent some hours in the co-work space I favor, focused on various job search tasks. Got my unemployment claim started. Kicked off a variety of queries of job postings of various sorts. Applied for a couple that look like a decent fit for my skills, mostly to get comfortable with the process again. In due time, the interviews will begin to dictate my time, and eventually it’ll be back to work. 🙂
This morning, after my morning camera hike, I went back to the house for a leisurely morning coffee with my Traveling Partner. It was a relaxed morning of this-n-that, and then back to the co-work space. Later I’ll do some leg-work for my partner’s business. Life feels pretty good.
Change is. I don’t expect this will “always” feel easy, but I sure am enjoying that it feels easy right now.
I look at the clock and grin; it doesn’t dictate my experience right now. It’s still time to begin again.
Sick time activities tend on the easy low-effort side, for me, and I’ve spent quite a lot of time the last few days (between naps and hot showers) looking over pictures of previous camping trips to the same general location I’ll be going next. I noticed fairly quickly that “the numbers don’t add up” – the campsites are numbered, and I reliably snap a picture of the site I’ve selected, and note the number in my itinerary and various writings. I tend to favor sites that are the most distant from other campers, wherever I go. As I’ve said before; I go for the solitude. 🙂
Like, seriously, out among the trees, camped surrounded by dense tall nettles. Manufactured solitude. 😀
During the pandemic, I didn’t get much camping in. (Duh) There was that last trip in August 2019 – before the pandemic – and then “at long last” another in August 2021, when pandemic restrictions were beginning to lift (rather briefly, as I recall, before returning for some while…I hope I am remembering that correctly). That most recent trip was not down into the deeper, quieter, hike-in camping – that camp ground was closed for substantial repairs, and even the trail down into that area was closed. There had been some serious storms that took down trees, flooded trails, and caused a lot of damage (I read, but did not see for myself). When I went to book my upcoming trip, I noticed something odd… there was a particular site I was considering reserving… only… it didn’t exist on the map at all, now. Actually – there are two fewer sites than there had been, and two of those that were removed were among the four sites that were singularly “remote” (by a notable distance) from the others (and each other). One of these now-missing sites was one I greatly enjoyed. Change is. The other I hadn’t yet tried out, but found visually very pleasing, and had considered it more than once. These changes briefly tested my sanity; could I really be remembering things this incorrectly?? Could I be so wrong about where that site was??
This is no longer site #9. This is the past. Gone now.
This site is gone, too. I wonder what reminder of the past may linger there now?
Now there are just two sites in the hike-in campground that truly stand out as being quite a bit more distant from any other camp sites. One of those is a “walk-in only” and can’t be reserved at all (and is generally occupied any time I’ve gone there). The other? My personal favorite spot. The thing that I found amusing-confusing is that the numbering (of course) had to be updated to “make sense” on the ground for folks seeking their reserved site… and now, the carefully recording numbering of prior visits that I see in my notes and pictures makes no sense; it doesn’t match the map as it exists now. My preferred site was #23, which “no longer exists” but strictly speaking it’s right there on the map – just bearing a different number. So many lovely visits to #23… only… now it’ll be #21, and of course the one trip I had previously made to #21 would be better numbered, now, as #17. Sites #22 and #9, as they had existed, are simply gone now. There is no need for a #22 at all and #9 is attached to a different site altogether. Vexing. But… change is. These are certainly the sorts of changes that can screw with a person’s memories of the past, though. lol
Sometimes I get hung up on such details. What something is called now versus what it used to be named. Street names. Business locations. Changes in which streets are one-way. I sometimes struggle to reconcile what I recall with what I see in front of me. I don’t think that’s unique or unusual; I think we all deal with it because change is. Sorting out these photos and getting them organized by camping trip has been fun and I love the reminders of each one. The pictures take me back down trails as they once were, and each visit has its utterly unique and splendidly different moments… on the same trails. Different weather. Different light. Different flowers in bloom. New or old signs. Well-maintained or falling into disrepair. These small variations don’t reflect “poor memory for details” at all, they simply remind me that “change is”, and that this affects us all, with every experience. The map is not the world. The trail is not the hike. Each moment is an experience all its own.
Still the same favorite, but the number has changed. LOL It’ll be #21 on the new map. The map is not the world.
I’ve camped at this place in March. I found it a bit chilly (and definitely unpleasantly so at night). It was rainy. I find that I would rather wait for later weeks, generally, instead of camping in March. lol
I’ve camped here in May. May was also rainy, but the nights were pretty comfortable, and the thimbleberries along the trails were ripe. It’s a lovely time for wildflowers. The trails are sometimes muddy.
I’ve camped here in July. The summer heat often hasn’t really gotten going, and everything is lush and green, and the trails are dry and easy to walk.
I’ve camped here in August, several times. Comfortable nights, followed by cool mornings well-suited to long hikes. The afternoons are hot – good for napping after a hike. The birdsong, crickets, and peeping frogs make a delightful racket.
I’ve camped here in September a couple times, too. Chilly evenings develop from warm afternoons. Sometimes it has rained briefly, most often it has been dry. Creeks are at their lowest flow. Trails are dry, and so are the meadow grasses. A few wildflowers remain.
Funny thing… while it makes quite a bit of sense that I don’t typically camp earlier than March (don’t like being cold all the time)… looking over my photos, I am a little surprised to see that I have not camped later than mid-September, either. Why is that so odd? Well, the weather around this location is quite mild and suited to camping well into November before it begins getting properly chilly again. Not that it matters relative to most other things, I just found it peculiar, and find myself wondering if I should plan something for October this year? Catch the autumn in her glory, perhaps?
What I was getting to, though, is that each experience has been quite different for reasons other than camp site or season. That March trip? It was dreadful, and I cut it short. I was out there primarily doing a “gear check” for longer more remote trips into wilderness areas with only dispersed camping available, and no “conveniences” (like potable water and vault toilets). I utterly failed to be adequately prepared even for the chill of a pleasant March weekend. lol I forgot my coffee. (Nooooooo!) Seriously? I even forgot any sort of hot beverage, even tea or broth. Forgot my bee sting kit (omg, bees in March??). Couldn’t start a fire – just, for whatever reason, completely forgot how to make that happen on this whole other “do not go solo camping you nitwit” level. The ultra-light cot I had such high hopes for? Flimsy and would not support my weight. Fucking hell. After one overnight I was tired, stressed, and miserable. After two? I called my Traveling Partner to come get me. Embarrassing. I still get occasional teasing about that one. lol
Most of my camping trips are just excuses to hit trails I can’t easily reach on a weekend morning, and to get away for some “me time” and take pictures of flowers. They sort of blend together – until I see the pictures, and look back on each trip as its own thing. A singular experience. Each one of them is quite different, and by making a practice of savoring every pleasant moment at great length, my longer-term memory of all of them is of these wonderful experiences out among the trees – even that March trip.
How often do we taint our memories of the life we live by focusing on the shittiest moments with the whole of our attention, picking them apart, re-analyzing them, talking and writing about them at length, thinking of them often – while failing to do the same for all the pleasant ones? When I stopped doing that, and started putting more of my focus on the choice moments, joyful moments, a-ha moments, and wow moments instead, my experience of life over-all improved quite a lot. I recommend it. When I catch myself ruminating on some bullshit moment of chaos or unhappiness, I make a point to follow that with reflections on lovely moments. Legit. Real. Mine. Doing this has definitely changed my “implicit memory” of life and the world for the better. It’s a choice I make regularly. It’s been very effective as a strategy for ensuring that life feels worth living, every day. Figured I’d share that with you. 🙂 I hope you find it helpful.
…The tl;dr? Don’t get mired in your own bullshit. Reflect on your joys, your wins, what works, and what you love. Take time for that. Sip your coffee (or tea, or… you know, whatever you like) and focus on what delights you in your surroundings right now. I mean… I’m not telling you what to do, just sharing what has been working for me. 🙂 You’re walking your own path, of your own choosing. You can begin again.
Choose your path and walk it. Your results may vary.
Early morning. Still dark. Nothing surprising about that; autumn is approaching. There are hints of all among the leaves and along forested paths. The mornings are chilly now. The nights have cooled off. The rains are returning. November isn’t far off, and the end of daylight savings time will switch things up a bit, but for now, that’s not relevant. What is relevant is that early morning is dark now. I sip my coffee looking past the window into the pre-dawn darkness.
“Hints of Autumn” 10″ x14″ acrylic on canvas w/glow, 2021
My own heart, in this moment, is filled with light. 🙂 Nice place to start the day.
Impermanence is a real thing. Darkness comes and goes. For some folks, there often seems more “darkness” than light. I think on that as I watch the first faint hints of dawn revealing the gray cloudy morning sky. The light does return. I think about that homily “it’s always darkest before the dawn”, and while I wonder whether it is literally true, I sip my coffee and observe the sky as it continues to lighten, on the way to daybreak.
The wheel continues to turn. The pendulum swings, the clock ticks. Change is. We may be mired in darkness in one moment; the sun will rise on another.
The pale gray sky beyond the window hints at rain. The clock reminds me that the work day is ahead. My coffee is mostly gone. I think about garden chores. I think about a walk later. I think about my Traveling Partner in the other room, and fill my thoughts will love and well-wishes for his day.
Another moment slips by. It’s already time to begin again. 🙂
Evening Light 