There is a crow that is apparently a regular visitor to my camp site. This crow has come by a dozen or so times since I arrived around 11 a.m. this morning. I get the impression that my visitor is checking out my camp, probably watching to see where I might leave something tasty laying around unattended. I would leave a couple plump sweet cherries on the far side of the picnic table, but apparently I’ve grown up at least a little bit, and I resist the impulse, reluctant to mess with the natural foraging behavior of the crow. We watch each other. Time passes.
…It’s quite early to be “evening”, really, but the moment has that feeling to it…
I took my time getting here, and I didn’t rush getting camp set up (sometimes I time myself and try to beat my previous set up times). Instead of my usual 45 minutes to an hour for set up time (from parked to feet up sipping coffee), today it was a relaxed 2.5 hours. Oh, I moved pretty quickly through setting up the Moon Shade, and the camp kitchen and solar power, but I dithered over where to put my tent, and stopped for a break to buy fire wood and find the restrooms. Once I resumed setting up (just my tent and laying out my bed), I was done pretty quickly. I think it took me about an hour and a half of actual setting up.
As the sun begins to sink low in the sky, the mild afternoon sunshine begins to take on the chill of the coastal breeze. I started a fire about an hour ago with this change in temperature in mind. It crackles merrily, and even though it’s a smallish fire, I’m warmed through and the temperature in my camp generally is a bit less chilly. Besides, I really like sitting by the fire with my thoughts. I don’t even know if this post will upload when I hit “publish”… the connectivity is very unreliable. I like it that way out here every bit as much as I appreciate the reliable high speed connection at home. The context matters.
I sigh contentedly. I needed this.
The sun continues to drop lower in the sky, peeking through the Spring foliage. So many shades of green! I walked a bit finding the restroom, earlier, and noticed so many wildflowers blooming! Tomorrow I will hit the trail with my camera and see what flowers are blooming and take pictures of them. Maybe do some sketches or watercolor in the heat of the afternoon? Today I spent my energy and time just getting here and getting set up. That’s okay; it’s all I needed from myself. It’s enough. Now I can just relax by the fire.
Tomorrow is for sure my last work day in this lovely office space. I’m not changing jobs; we’re leaving this space. Feels… strange. It’s okay. Not a sorrowful moment, just a moment. I sit quietly, looking out these windows at this view, and wondering what my day-to-day experience will be like after I return from my camping trip to a new, different, routine? Probably still pretty routine; that’s how I tend to live, mostly. lol
…I didn’t have to commute to this place to do the work I could as easily have been doing at home. I embraced the commute, and this space, as an opportunity, and I’ve enjoyed it for these past 8 months or so. Change is. I’m okay with that. I’m also okay with giving up the cost of fuel for the commute, and parking in the city, and all the vexing details that go along with all of that…
Traffic.
I’m counting down the days until my camping trip. My Traveling Partner was frank last evening that he’ll miss me, that it’s hard to do everything for himself when I’m away right now (while he recovers from an injury), and that he’s also a bit jealous to be stuck at home while I am camping. That’s real. I feel for him – and I feel fortunate to be so loved as to be missed when I’m gone. That’s beautiful. We both get something out of missing each other now and then, and I know I’ll miss him too. I also yearn for this time away, which I will spend in a solitary way, quietly among the trees, on the trail, or by the campfire. I need this solo time much the same way he needs the joyful camaraderie of our union as lovers and traveling companions on life’s journey – we do our best to strike a healthy balance, so we each thrive individually and together. He probably gets more time alone than he needs (I often find myself a bit jealous of that), and I don’t always get the solitary time I need – but we know the needs are there (his for steady, close companionship, mine for interludes of aloneness), and we work together to meet them (all). Funny how much love makes that matter – and how hard love can make it to achieve. It’s a peculiar puzzle.
“Life Sparkles (with the love we feel)” 11″ x 14″ acrylic on canvas w/glow and glitter 2018
I think about the here and now, and contrast it with daydreams of other places, other lived experiences, over the course of this one lifetime. There are so many experiences that I will likely never have, that I’ve often considered, or even yearned for. We make choices, and follow the path our choices take us down. Some choices take a few items “off the menu”, and some choices open grand vistas of new opportunities to consider. There’s a lot of variety in the human experience. I sit with my coffee, considering my choices, and where they have lead me. I couldn’t always say so, but it is very true today; I am walking my own path. That feels pretty good. I’m okay with where I am standing in life, presently. It’s a good place to be, although the world often feels like a pretty seriously fucked up mess on a terrifying order of magnitude (when I zoom out to consider that)… up close, this one life, this moment here, is pretty good. I’m okay… contented. Even “happy”. Deeply in love with my partner. Working a job I find satisfying, alongside people I respect and enjoy as both people and as colleagues. Living fairly simply in a little home I can call my own. I’ve got a veggie garden, beautiful roses, a small library of books I love. I’m fortunate. I can’t attribute all of my good fortune to my exceptional decision-making… because frankly, that’s not been the case for me. I’ve bungled a ton of shit, and made so many awful choices in life… but… I’m here, now, and this is a good place to be. I’ve gotten lucky, a lot, and I’m grateful for the circumstances and friendships that have paved this path, and continue to light my way.
Like a potted rose slaking its thirst on a gentle rain; I’m grateful.
I sigh contentedly. Be here, now. Good suggestion, if you like where you’re standing. If that’s not the case, it’s time to begin again, perhaps, and choose differently? So many choices. They aren’t all easy – and mistakes will be made. Results will vary. Verbs will be involved. The best plans still require attentive follow-through, care, and action. Sometimes adulting is hard. Sometimes life is filled with sorrow. We fail, we fall, we hurt, we struggle… and then we begin again. No do-overs, really, but we can pick ourselves up, brush the dirt off our knees and the tears off our cheeks, and walk on. Mostly it’s enough. The journey is the destination. We become what we practice.
…What are you practicing?…
I chuckle when I notice how filled with aphorisms and purpose-built slogans this particular bit of writing happens to be. I’m okay with that, too. “Repetition is learning.” I heard that first from a monster, many years ago, under circumstances I don’t care to repeat (or share in any detail). The source of useful information has nothing much to do with the usefulness of the information, itself. Another good lesson learned.
Change is. Choose wisely.
I look fondly out the windows to the park below. It’s a lovely view and I’ll miss it, but it’s time for change – and time to begin again.
It’s still dark here at the trailhead where I am waiting for daybreak. It’s a pleasantly mild morning and expected to be a warm sunny day. I’d hoped to sleep in, but woke at my usual early hour, and did my best to slip away quietly so my Traveling Partner could get the rest he needs, too. So here I am, thinking about life and waiting for the sun.
I watched an excellent perspective piece on YouTube last night with my Traveling Partner, discussing what makes a “good life”, and what a life well-lived consists of, generally. That’s an utterly inadequate summary. It sort of describes “how the sausage is made” with regard to all the media crap we cram into our brains that tell us we could or should do more or live differently. You could just watch it. I found it a worthwhile way to spend 11 minutes. Inspiring in a wholesome way. I don’t think I could have said it better.
Daybreak comes. Mt Hood is backlit by a broad strip of a relatively bold orange. It’s a lovely morning to be on the trail early, alone with my thoughts. Time to wrap this up and get going…
Is this a “boring” life because I don’t travel to exotic destinations or do amazing adventurous things? No. It’s a quiet life built on contentment and sufficiency, doing things I truly enjoy, and spending time with people I have real fondness for. It’s not only not boring, it’s very much the life I have been working towards for so long. 🙂
This morning I am sipping my coffee contentedly, and watching daybreak become morning. No sunrise this morning. There’s a massive dark gray storm cloud blotting out the sky to the east, so dark that it almost appears that the sun must be rising from the west – the sky is that much lighter in that direction. Doesn’t change the quality of this cup of coffee. Doesn’t affect my mood, or the tasks ahead of me today. It is what it is. I’m okay with it; I am safe and comfortable and warm – and I’ve got this cup of coffee.
I woke easily, and a little early, and my commute was fine. Traffic was no heavier than any other day, and it was moving right along. I often felt as if I were the slowest thing on the road, which is not my usual experience, and I found myself checking my speedometer often, just to verify I was indeed going at least the speed limit. lol Strange morning. Nothing wrong with it – it just is.
Nothing about this morning is so strange that it’s worth commenting on, really. Ordinary morning. It’s pretty easy to “just let it be what it is” on a morning like this. I love these sorts of mornings; they give me a chance to practice some practices in a “safe context” with few challenges, which tends to make them feel more natural on days when I really need them most. Practicing “letting things be what they are” (non-attachment) and not taking things personally are practices that have a lot of value for me, but if I’m stressed to my breaking point, or feeling traumatized, they can be so much more difficult. It’s good to have plenty of practice, because when these become “skills” and “habits” as much as they are “practices”, then, when I need them most, they just are.
I sip my coffee. I breathe, exhale, relax, and consider the moment. I’m grateful for the quiet. Appreciative of the ease. I watch the dark gray storm clouds move over the city, slowly. It may rain. I’m okay with that, too. It is what it is. A little rain can’t stop me from beginning again. 😀
I’m relaxing. Enjoying the evening. I’ll probably be up rather late; I collapsed into a foggy, dreamy, lush nap shortly after I got home from work (and after making a short trip to a favorite local pie spot to pick up a pie – why not? I like pie…). I woke refreshed, and found my Traveling Partner had slept through the time I was napping, himself, relaxing on the couch. We must have needed the sleep. Dinner was simple, nothing fancy.
…There’s nothing about this that is significant, important, or, probably, even interesting. It’s just a quiet evening with nothing much going on. It’s pleasant, and that’s enough.
I’m in a lot of pain tonight. It’s not “new pain”. Just my arthritis. Chronic. Predictable. But not new. I mean, shit, I first started feeling the twinges of what would become my “constant companion” in… 1988? 1989? Something like that. About 35 years ago. At first I thought there was “something seriously wrong” with my spinal fusion – no one explicitly warned me about the likelihood that osteoarthritis might set in, in the adjacent vertebrae, or gave me any idea what to expect when it did… until after it was part of my experience. Not much of a fucking “warning”, but what could have been done? It’s not like a warning about arthritis would have caused me to decline the surgery that lets me walk, stand, and get around as well (and go as far) as I do. So… I hurt. I mostly don’t mention it out loud to other people. I probably minimize it more often than I should when I’m talking to my Traveling Partner. I don’t like him to worry, or stress over it, and for fucks sake, what could he even do about it? Basically nothing. So… why bitch? I just deal with it and try to move on. Take medication when I need it. Keep myself moving (because being too still too much of the time definitely makes things worse over time – a lesson learned decades ago). Sometimes it’s hard. Life, too. So… yeah. So what?
I distract myself with entertaining videos. I write. I listen to music. Play video games. Read books. I enjoy life. It’s already likely to seem far too short. 🙂
No one likes to hurt. Pain sucks. I remind myself how common it is that we do. For sure there are people who have it much worse, more of the time, than I do. Perspective; it is so much more profound to experience contentment and joy, because I definitely do know what it feels like to be mired in pain and misery. Maybe it’s enough.
…Be kind to people. It’s not always obvious how much pain someone is in, and how it defines their experience. We’re all just people. Pain is part of being human.
Evening Light 