don’t get into the clown car

The days have been sort of tumbling by in a blur. Some days I am so thoroughly exhausted by day’s end, I fall into bed feeling spent, and sleep overtakes me quickly. Other days, I make it to the end with enough left in the tank to prepare a pleasant meal, and even to enjoy it, and clean up afterwards. Regardless, and seemingly without any direct connection to my relative state of fatigue, I’m looking back on this blur of days and nights. The feeling of constantly scrambling to gain traction on a slick floor, or of treading water in the dark, describes it best, I guess.

I sigh to myself as I walk this trail in the darkness. Walking in the dark isn’t my preference, but it’s the time I have for it. Not walking isn’t an acceptable option (for me, in my opinion). There’s a metaphor in that, or perhaps a lesson.

I get to my halfway point before daybreak. No surprise there; I got an early start. My left hip aches, and it feels like arthritis pain. I frown to myself. I guess it could be worse. I distract myself , to avoid dwelling on pain. It isn’t helpful (at all) to let my pain occupy my mental space for long. Giving it that much attention tends to make it feel worse. I breathe, exhale, and relax, and redirect my attention to the strangely pink night sky. The clouds are illuminated by the community below, in the distance… but why pink? I think about it pointlessly awhile longer. A snapshot taken with my cellphone does not capture what my eyes think they see. There’s probably something worth reflecting upon in that experience, too.

…The pain I’m in persists in distracting me. I persist in letting that go…

I can’t make myself look at the news today. It’s not worth the stress to be informed about the latest new way our government has found to cause needless suffering, or to find out how else government insiders and Trump cronies are picking our pockets to fill their own bank accounts. I don’t need to be told that another billionaire grifter or criminal has been pardoned; this is the era we are living in. It’s pretty fucking horrible. Reading more details about the same old shit doesn’t make it easier to accept – and not reading about it doesn’t stop the terrible degradation of our democracy, as it spirals into authoritarianism. If you have the means, it’s probably a good time to get out, and go somewhere safer.

I sigh again, and realize I was holding my breath – or at least not breathing. I sit for a few minutes, just breathing, and focused on my breath. It is too easy to let shit get to me, to let the stress and anxiety seep into my consciousness and wreck my mood. I inhale the mild autumn air, filling my lungs with it. I exhale, and let the stress leave my body along with my breath. No, it’s not “easy”, but it is a practice that can be practiced, and with practice it becomes easier over time. After some while, it becomes really effective. (Think in terms of months and years of practice, though, not minutes.)

I meditate, watching the treeline for the first hint of daybreak. I breathe, exhale, and relax, holding myself in this present moment. At least for now, there’s just this timeless moment of presence. I’m okay with that, it’s a pleasant moment, and for now I feel easy, and my heart is light.

Over the past 12 years of this blog, I’ve come so very far! I’m grateful. I’m not certain I could have endured the world as it is, where I was with myself, then. I was thoroughly mired in chaos and damage, and there was a long journey ahead of me before that would change in a notable way. I took it in steps, though, and I just kept at it, practicing practices, and walking my own path. I’ve learned some things along the way, about life, about love, and about finding meaning and a life worth living. It has been very much worth it.

So, no doom scrolling this morning, no news feed, just a woman, a trail, and a moment of pleasant solitude before dawn on an autumn Friday morning. Later, there is work to do, and there are errands to run. I’ll do my best with all of that, and that will have to be enough. In the meantime, I’ll enjoy the moment I’m in. Later, I’ll begin again.

I’m grateful for this pleasant moment, here, now… It’s enough.

Well, that’s Mother’s Day behind me, already – “the year is nearly half over”, I think to myself, sipping my coffee and looking out the office window on a dreary gray morning. “At least it isn’t cold, too”, I add as an afterthought.

It was a lovely weekend spent in the good company of my Traveling Partner. I ended up letting most of the housekeeping and whatnot just fall by the wayside, to be handled another day. I kept the kitchen tidy, did a couple chores and errands that really couldn’t wait, and enjoyed time with my beloved. Time well-spent, no regrets – we don’t live for housework, we do the housework in order to live well. Sometimes there are better choices. 😀

In memory of a Dear Friend, a quiet corner of the garden.

I did manage to get into the garden a bit, which was lovely, and I planted a couple tomato plants to replace the ones the deer ate to ground a few days ago. A rose in my “memory garden” is blooming, and I found some cute beaded decorations to add there (I think my Dear Friend would have enjoyed the whimsy of these, and their colorful sparkle). More than any of that, as delightful as it was (and is), I am enjoying the recollection of time spent at my Traveling Partner’s side. Video games, 3D print projects, just hanging out, enjoying meals together, and getting some useful coaching from my beloved on the new solar hydro mini-garden (which will be planted very soon, so I needed to know how to mix the nutrients for that, and he has so much more experience); it was a delightful weekend.

An old favorite is blooming early. “Nozomi”

I love seeing the roses begin to bloom. It’s a lovely time in the garden. The curry plant is covered in buds, too, and some of the lavender is as well. The strawberries have actual berries beginning to ripen, and still more blossoms. The romaine is thriving, and I had radishes enough to serve with a meal this weekend. I even boldly planted a couple of hardy smallish varieties of fig in large pots this weekend, hoping they do sufficiently well to be planted into the garden somewhere, in a year or two (they’re pretty wee, at this point, and likely to be inadvertantly mowed or stepped on). I love “edible landscape”, particularly in hard times. Such things give me a feeling of security and stability, and “good living”, and I definitely benefit from feeling that these days. I can’t do much (or, really, anything) about the crazy terrible bullshit going on in Washington DC, beside simply not succumb to terrible behavior, myself, and I find having “hope” available to see and feel in my day-to-day life makes enduring the bullshit going on elsewhere just a little less fraught with despair. It’s a small thing, this small garden, but the return on my time and effort is huge.

A wee fig sapling, getting a start in a pot.

I sip my coffee grateful for my good fortune, and grateful for my good partnership, my pleasant home, my good job – I know things could be much worse (and that for many many people they very much are). I breathe, exhale, and relax. There are verbs involved, and I have to do my part, but there’s also a large measure of “luck”, “good fortune”, and circumstance that I get value from, and should not take for granted. Circumstances can change. So, I make a point of holding space for gratitude, and this morning’s gray and dreary backdrop to the day is a handy reminder that things could be worse. I sigh quietly to myself. I look fondly at the desk organizer and wee desktop waste recepticle my Traveling Partner made for me, and grin happily to myself. I feel very loved.

…Suddenly I am missing my beloved most ferociously, as if he were very far away, or it had been some long time since we last embraced. lol Strange to love to fiercely, and so enduringly. We are, afterall, just humans being human. My reflection smiles back at me in the window. I am fortunate to be so well-loved.

I’ve got a nice moment on which to begin a new day, right here, now. I look over my email, my task list, my day plan, and remind myself of phone calls I need to make, an appointment I’ve got later in the afternoon, and think briefly about what to do about dinner, although it is too soon to give it much thought. Another sigh. Another smile. Another moment. The clock is ticking, and it’s time to begin again.

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