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.
I sit quietly with my coffee. A steady light rain is falling. My tinnitus is loud in my ears and my mind wanders, unsettled and restless. I’m fine, for all describable commonplace values of “fine”. There’s nothing amiss. I’m tired perhaps, having wakened to the final full brightness of my sunrise alarm this morning, pulled from a very involved surreal dream that involved a large elegant home, a handful of friends, and a colony of guinea pigs.
I reached the trailhead during a break in the rain. My walk did nothing to improve upon my strange distractedness, but it was pleasant and that’s enough.
Rainy morning, another beginning.
I returned to the car just as the rain began falling again. I sit listening to it contentedly, warm and dry, enjoying my coffee. I’m grateful for insulated travel mugs (definitely a technological win). I’ve got an errand to run before I head home, and my Traveling Partner slept poorly during the night. I’m in no hurry, and he’ll benefit from some quiet time for sleeping before I get home and start on the housework.
It’s another ordinary enough day, just beginning. I breathe, exhale, and relax. There’s nothing much to comment on that hasn’t been said before. There are practices to practice. Results that will vary. Moments to enjoy. A path to walk. I watch daybreak slowly become dawn, then daylight. I take time to meditate and to reflect. Perspective is useful. The sound of the rain falling is peaceful. Yesterday was lovely, and busy, and I am tired in spite of a good night’s sleep. There’s much to do today in spite of fatigue. I’ve got a list. lol I think for a moment, looking over my list… and move “self-care” to the top.
Peculiarly foggy morning, now that the sun is up. The mist crept up from the river bed slowly as the sun rose. The morning, before dawn, was crystal clear and chilly. Summer is already becoming fall.
My Traveling Partner pinged me an early greeting that became a 30 minute conversation, before I set out for my walk. No point trying to walk and text chat at the same time; it renders the experience little more than distracted mindless exercise, which I don’t particularly enjoy. I like to be where I am as I walk, taking in the sights, the changing light, and breathing the fresh air. The exercise is a bonus.
He pings me several times more after my walk begins, but explicitly says “read after your walk” and I mute my ringer happily and walk on. I’m in pain this morning and I definitely need this self-care time. He’s in pain, too, and cheating myself of good self-care doesn’t serve either of us well. I walk on.
The trail is noisy and crowded this morning. I’m in no mood for cheery greetings and human voices, but I set off on my walk much later than usual, choosing conversation over walking, and love over solitude. Choices. I’m okay with it. I just keep walking. The leaves of the oaks take on a golden glow high up, even as the mist swirls around their bases, covering the meadow grass. The horizon is obscured. When I look towards the sunrise, the mist is a golden wash of color, trees and distant buildings silhouetted but not revealed. It’s an interesting effect.
I breathe, exhale, and relax. I walk, wondering what the day will hold. What do I want out of it? What needs to get done? What can wait? What might bring me joy? My thoughts are imprecise and vague, not unlike this misty morning, details lost in the fog that has gathered. I don’t make any effort to force things one way or another. It’s a Saturday. I just let my thoughts come and go, like an autumn mist in the morning, trusting that it’ll clear up later. It’s enough to enjoy this moment, walking with my thoughts.
Soon enough I’ll begin again. Until then, I’ve got this moment. I take a few minutes to relax at the edge of the marsh, on a convenient bench at my not-quite-halfway point. I write a few words. Watch the Canada geese drift across the water of the pond nearby. Watch the sun rise. Breathe. Nice morning for it…
It’s dark and I am waiting for the sun. I’m sitting at the trailhead, paused between meditation and writing, some time before my walk. It’s a Monday morning, probably a fairly routine one… But… And?
I’m feeling a bit “off”, somehow. Vaguely irritable, only… maybe not? I don’t know. I’m in a strange discontented headspace, with nothing much to complain about, and nothing going on that actually seems “wrong”. I’m not “unhappy”… neither am I “happy”. I sigh heavily. The weekend wasn’t particularly restful or productive. I enjoyed it in the company of my Traveling Partner, and that was pretty nice. I very much feel that I should be looking back on it with much more gratitude and enthusiasm, but… this strange discontented mood has a pretty firm hold on me. Something like the sensation of wanting something I simply can’t have, ever, and knowing it while only half accepting it, but also not taking any steps to change that. Weird mood.
Soon enough I’ll have to “put my work face on”, and wholly adopt a certain professional positivity, and get the day going. Fine. I will and it’ll work out. I’m just…here… now, in this very different place. No idea why. I feel almost as though laying down for awhile and just… weeping… might be a more authentic use of my time, but it seems like a fairly childish and ineffective approach to take.
…I wonder if my walk will help…
I breathe, exhale, and relax, waiting for the sun. I’m not yet in any particular amount of pain. This could be a very pleasant moment. It isn’t quite. Am I, perhaps, reacting to my Traveling Partner’s (understandable) feelings of depression and negativity, as he confronts and deals with his emotions regarding potential long-term consequences of his (more severe than we knew at the time) injury, or becoming fused with that experience instead of living my own? It’s possible. We spent the weekend closely together, enjoying (or sometimes not enjoying) each other’s company.
… Maybe I didn’t get enough rest? Or didn’t get enough done…?
Another sigh breaks the silence. The sky slowly lightens as daybreak approaches. I think to myself that perhaps I could sleep a bit later in the morning now that the days are shorter, but I know it’s a wasted thought; I wake when I wake. It happens to be quite early. I do my best to make good use of the time.
… I resent feeling so stupidly fussy and irritable without good cause…
I pause my writing and my thoughts when my alarm reminds me to take my morning meds. I do that while noting sourly to myself that as things are going, I’ll be unlikely to ever retire, becoming one of those older folks who works for a living until my grave opens up to receive the last of my frail remains. G’damn that’s fucking depressing. I’ve wanted to retire since I entered the fucking workforce. I take a deep breath and let it go, along with the thought. The future is not written. I breathe, exhale, relax, and bring myself back to this moment, which, although characterized by this almost comically bleak mood, isn’t really all that bad, otherwise.
Be here, now.
I work at resetting my mood. I fail, and I try again. I look for different perspectives. I take a moment to really “hear myself”. Limited success, and I keep trying. I know “the way out is through” and I know I will become what I practice. I keep practicing. Change is, and eventually this mood will pass. Eventually, I’ll understand what gadfly is biting my metaphysical ass and be more easily able to do something about it. Slow going, this morning, and my irritability vexes me.
The first hint of a new day.
Daybreak comes, and with it a chance to begin again. I frown pointlessly at the sky, missing old friends and somehow also missing solitude (in spite of being literally alone in this moment). I grab my cane and get my stupid human ass out of the car and on my feet. It’s time to begin again.
I was complaining yesterday about my early morning “me time” being interrupted and trying to communicate the way that has potential to undermine my self-care, generally. I didn’t recognize it at the time, but I did get through to my Traveling Partner, who was subsequently very considerate about my time this morning, although he is excited to talk about a tool he’d like to have and a choice opportunity to obtain it that developed last night. I feel very loved and “heard”. I remind myself to say so and express my appreciation.
… This morning I overslept…
I headed to the nearby local trail I favor, for my morning walk, just in case I may later be driving a distance for a tool. Love is funny like that; I’d do most anything to see my partner smile, even drive a long way on a short weekend, to look at a tool.
… Funny thing… I got to the trailhead ahead of the sun, eager for a peaceful satisfying walk with my thoughts… Humans. Shit. Two vehicles parked askew in my usual spot. I don’t own it, so… Shit happens, eh? Public place. I park on the other side of the parking lot and start meditating as I wait for the sun. One vehicle starts it engine and idles awhile. (Are you kidding me!?) It’s a biiig Cummins diesel with a nasty whine to it. Fucking loud. It’s hard to meditate. Or think. Fucking noisy humans. Finally. The truck drives away. Minutes later the aggressively well-cared for sports car that was parked alongside the truck starts it’s engine, high beams shining in my eye, and idles awhile. (Are you fucking kidding me with this rude-ass bullshit?! What the hell?) I sigh irritably and wait it out. They leave, too, and I’m finally alone with the stillness of morning… until another early riser shows up, parks right next to me, and begins unloading dogs to walk the trail, too. FFS. G’damn it. Life is clearly teaching me a lesson this morning.
It’s not quite daybreak and she walks away, with her headlamp on. Damn that’s a lot of dogs for so early in the morning. lol
I move my car over to my preferred parking spot. No bright streetlight overhead, better view of the treeline on the far side of the meadow. I begin again.
It’s a new day. Enjoy it.
I breathe, exhale, and relax. I sit quietly with my thoughts. I meditate while I wait for the sun. I wonder about the day ahead while I lace up my boots and grab my cane. Change is. Our expectations are not the reality. The map is not the world. We’re each walking our own mile and having our own experience. Circumstances are what they are; how we understand them, and what we feel and think and choose to do are within our control. We have choices. Results may vary. The journey is the destination.
There’s enough light now to see the trail ahead, until it turns the bend into the darkness among the trees. It’s definitely time to begin again – this path won’t walk itself. 😀
Evening Light 