The day began earlier than it needed to, and I am okay with it. I’m waiting for daybreak to get a walk in while my Traveling Partner sleeps. Afterwards, I will make a trip to the grocery store to stock up on things he likes (and can make pretty easily), and then do a bit of tidying up before I finally finish packing, load the car, and hit the road for a couple quiet days of (hopefully) restful downtime.
I spend a few minutes meditating. I look over my packing list for obvious omissions. I update my to-do list. I sit quietly, taking note of how my body feels, and “where my head is at”.
My tinnitus is loud today and I am in more pain than usual. I’m physically uncomfortable, but I also feel pretty good emotionally, and generally quite merry and eager to face the day. Learning to hold space for these very different experiences at the same time took a long time to learn, and longer still to recognize the value in doing so, but so worth it. Being able to acknowledge and enjoy what’s going well in spite of what’s going poorly is a way of preventing shitty experiences or feelings from wrecking my entire moment (or day). Handy, considering how often I am in pain.
I take a breath and sigh as I exhale. It’s early, but I go ahead and take something to help manage my pain. Self-care is important to my own well-being, sure, and it’s also something I can do to support my relationships; miserable people make other people miserable, too. I’m not miserable with pain yet, but I could easily become so, and that’d be a crappy way to start off on a few days solo.
I’ve packed my paint box. My camera is ready, too. I’ve put the Lord of the Rings “Return of the King” in my bag, planning to finish it. There’s very little packing left to do (my CPAP, my pillow, things I was using during the night mostly). I’m really down to doing things to maximize my Traveling Partner’s comfort and convenience while I am gone. I take a moment to sit in quiet contemplation; I am so grateful to have a partner who is comfortable with me taking a few days solo now and then, and who truly supports my emotional wellness.
I smile, thinking about how much I know I will miss my partner, even though I am choosing to be away, and really need this time. I also know I will return home eagerly and happy to see him, and to love and be loved. It’s useful perspective to miss each other now and then.
I breathe, exhale, and relax. Soon it will be daybreak. Soon it will be time to begin again.
Some people are not at all into being alone. Solitude can be nerve-wracking for people who don’t like being alone. I’m not one of those people. Quite the contrary, some of my easiest most relaxed and comfortably contented moments are those when I am alone. I enjoy a solitary hike more than I enjoy companionship on the trail, and even the distant presence of others within view is a subtle irritant when I am most craving solitude. It’s beyond the irritation that is the sound of voices… it’s almost as if the mere presence of another human consciousness is too much for mine. It’s a little weird, because human primates are social creatures – even me. I just happen to have a strong liking for solitude, and a relatively high need for it, from a basic self-care perspective. Yes, yes, I know; it’s likely a trauma thing, but honestly that’s neither here nor there when it comes time to care for this fragile vessel in practical terms.
I’m sipping my coffee and counting down the hours; tomorrow I head to the coast for a couple days of quiet solitude. I’ll have my paints with me, my camera, and I’ll be near to a couple of favorite trails, and miles and miles of walkable beach. I’ll bring Lord of the Rings (books) – maybe I’ll finish it? I’ll sleep in (maybe) and nap (probably), and my life will not be constrained by clocks or calendars or lengthy to-do lists. It’ll just be me, being. I’m looking forward to it. Like… a lot.
…Funny… I’m also aware that I’ll miss my Traveling Partner the entire time I’m gone (which is okay, we gain a lot of perspective on how deeply we love each other when we have a chance to miss each other now and then)…
Yesterday’s unexpected almost-Spring weather of breezy sunshine and mild temperatures has given way to stormy gray clouds and intermittent rain. This does nothing to dampen my enthusiasm for tomorrow’s drive, or the coastal weekend ahead; rain or shine a view of the ocean is a marvelous change of scenery. When I go to this favorite location, I often leave the balcony door open wide to the ocean breeze and the sound of the waves crashing in for hours. If it’s chilly weather, I put on layers. I love to listen to the sound of the seashore. (Funny how different from each other the Atlantic and Pacific coasts sound. Funnier still that they both remind me of my Granny, and times we spent on the seashore together.) Being on the coast, near the seashore with a view of the ocean, really does something to replenish and recharge me. Similar-but-different to forested getaways or visits to vast plains or deserts; they each have something to offer the solitary traveler.
…I used to think I might like to take a cruise, then I really considered being crowded into a huge floating city with thousands of very human strangers and… um… no. That actually doesn’t sound pleasant at all. Too much people-ing. lol
So, yeah, the countdown to solitude has commenced in earnest… tonight I’ll pack my paints in my paint box for portability. Tomorrow… everything else, and a trip to the store for my Traveling Partner so he can also comfortably chill and enjoy some time on his own terms without having to fuss over groceries. The plan is made, and so are the reservations. 😀 It’s almost time to begin again.
I’m packed. It’s time to head home. It’s been meaningful time, well-spent on self-reflection, meditation, and watching the tides come and go. It was a lovely way to celebrate the arrival of Spring. I enjoyed some eye-opening moments, and end these days feeling that progress has been made…
…Now, how do I hold on to that progress?
Here’s the simple truth of it; we become what we practice. No matter how frequent or profound the epiphanies may be, if I don’t put what I’ve learned or observed into actual practice (thus, reinforcing what has been learned), it doesn’t change a fucking thing. So. There’s that. My results will vary. There are verbs involved. I’ll need to keep practicing. 🙂 Those are the basics of making a change.
I’ll say more about specifics over the next few days – I’m on vacation all week. This first piece was time spent with the woman in the mirror. Self-care. The next few days will be in the company of my partner, living my practices, and continuing to enjoy some down time. It’s a lovely plan.
I look around this room again. Have I forgotten anything? Seems not. I know me; I will check every cabinet, cupboard, and drawer once more before I go. lol (Just being thorough.)
Restless night. The occupant of the room next to mine left their bathroom fan running literally all night, until they had a massive loud argument around 0500. I was not ready to get up for the day, and so did not, but I had my hand on the phone to call 911, since the noises from the room next door suggested it may be necessary. Things went very quiet after a single door-slam, one occupant leaving the room to the other. The rain started to fall during the night. I got a pleasant walk in, during a break in the rain, when I got up shortly before 0700.
The restless night did not diminish my feeling of being rested or “topped off” – that previously emptied glass is refilled, and I sip my coffee, contentedly, smiling. Packing completed, it’s time to load up the car, check out, and head home. 😀 Time to begin again. 😀
Appearances are funny things, aren’t they? I’m sipping my morning coffee late into the morning, because, honestly, why not? I am “on vacation”, taking some solo time on the coast to meditate, reflect, read, write, and walk. I’ve gotten some good pictures.
I am, in this moment right here, watching the tide turn from the low a short while ago, reversing direction, and now flowing back, with high tide expected at 13:48 this afternoon. Low tide reveals the mud flats of Siletz Bay, enjoyed by the many sea birds that inhabit the area. The birds traverse the mud flats in flocks and individually, seeking tasty morsels in the mud. People watching the birds (and the tides) walk the adjacent beach (and in some cases, right on across the mud flats, too), sometimes alone, sometimes with children or dogs.
Siletz Bay at low tide.
Funny that the water of the nearby branch of Drift Creek seems to flow backwards as the tide turns. Instead of subtle waves that demonstrate the direction that the creek flows into the bay, then on to the ocean just beyond (visible from my balcony), now the waves suggest that the water is flowing upstream… and… I guess it is, at least in the sense that the tide has turned and is now returning the waters to the bay that flowed outward only a few hours ago. My eyes deceive me just a bit; intellectually, I am confident that the creek continues to flow into the bay, and on to the sea, I just can’t see that it is happening, due to tricks of the light on the surface of the water showing me only the most surface movement, which is definitely the tide coming in.
What is “the truth of it”? Well, the bay is refilling as the tide comes in. That’s true. The creek continues to flow from it’s source into the sea. Also true. The tide comes in, the tide goes out, in a very regular predictable way – another truth. I value these small points of certainty in a very uncertain world. Ducks, geese, gulls, herons, and cranes enjoy the shallow waters. I enjoy them as they do. It feels rather as if even the joy itself …flows.
It’s been a lovely couple of quiet days here alone at the beach. This funny somewhat run-down hotel I favor here gives me the room for solitude that I need. They’re very accommodating and appreciative any time I come for a stay. This room is my “new favorite”… Room 310. It’s long past its glory. The upholstery is faded, worn, and dingy – threadbare in places, and of a tired sort of green that doesn’t hide dirt well. The carpet is also worn. The wood furniture is chipped, dinged, and shows signs of age and mistreatment over many years of guests. The walls have been repaired in places, and there are places on the ceiling that hint at past flooding from above. It’s a funny room with a wedge-shaped layout that is a bit more spacious than most rooms here. The small bathroom reflected the care taken by the staff; so clean it almost seems to belong in some other hotel, newer, more modern, perhaps. I feel lucky that the mini-fridge is not noisy (they usually are). This room also has “more view”, with one big window facing the bay, and then the balcony facing the ocean. Lovely. The views are spectacular and have occupied my attention thoroughly.
My days are filled with walking the beach here at the foot of the hotel, and sitting on the balcony, or at the table by the window, meditating, and bird-watching. My head is filled with my own thoughts – and the quiet of wind and waves, and the calls of gulls filling the silence. Pleasant. I could come here often and never get bored. I don’t need much more out of this experience than I am getting; it’s the solitude that I was seeking, and I definitely found it here.
I could have written more. Didn’t. I’ve been content to spend the days in quiet reflection, absorbed in my own thoughts, on my own time. It’s been enough. More than enough; it’s what I needed.
I watch the water continue to slowly fill the bay as the tide comes in. The pattern of sand, mud, water, and waves changes with each tide. It’s interesting to watch, and to note the variations. I find myself wondering, if I sat here by this window watching long enough, would I see the pattern repeat at some point? Are the variations finite? As the bay fills, I see seals in the deeper areas, playfully enjoying a swim. There’s a sandy bar on which they gather to rest and soak up the sun, across the inlet to the bay from the beach where local fishers like to go. The seals and gulls compete with the fishers for the various fish and crabs that are so desirable. It’s a popular spot. Early in the mornings, I walk down the beach in the direction of the inlet, and the ocean, listening to the waves roll in. In the afternoons, I take the same (or similar) walk. It’s convenient to the hotel, and the variety that comes of weather and the passage of time is enough to entertain me endlessly. I’m certainly a long way from being at all concerned about “boredom”. lol
The ocean, visible just beyond the inlet to the bay.
I am drinking a glass of water between housekeeping tasks. I already know I won’t easily relax on my planned coastal getaway if I leave the house looking untidy, or if I just don’t do all the things I knew I could have done to make my absence easier on my Traveling Partner. He made a point of gently reminding me that I “don’t have to go, if you don’t want to…”, immediately followed by his reluctant awareness that I’m genuinely looking forward to this. I definitely need the break… from everything. People. Work. Chores. Routines. Agendas that are not my own. Errands. Did I mention “people”? Yeah… I for sure need a real break from being surrounded by other consciousness, and some real quiet time to listen to my own thoughts for a little while.
…I’m ready…
The chores didn’t take long. I’ll run to the store a little later and pick up a couple things for my partner (I check the list; ice cream, hamburger buns. Yeah. Ice cream and hamburger buns. lol) and enjoy the moment of awareness that the pantry is actually pretty well stocked, nothing to be concerned about. It’s a tiny reduction in background stress, and added up with other similarly relieving details, I keep feeling my stress level decline as my departure time (tomorrow) approaches. Feels good.
I breathe. Exhale. Relax. I contemplate the upcoming days away. My intention is a “silent retreat” aside from the minimal civil interactions required between myself and hotel staff, and wait staff at restaurants. It’s likely that other than check-in/out, and meals, I won’t exchange words with another person for 3 days. Damn that sounds good. 😀 I’m also looking forward to a “digital detox”. Minimal time logged in or connected – hell, I’m even on the fence about whether or not I’ll do any writing. Probably will, but I’m for sure staying off my phone, the internet, games and apps, aside from that bit of morning writing, I think.
I think about how much my partner will likely miss me while I’m gone (I’m only an hour away, and it’s only 3 days). Maybe I should invite him to a Zoom call or something and enjoy a few minutes remotely on Tuesday…? I know I can. He’s likely to be busy with work, while he misses me, but everyone needs a break now and then, right? I think about it until my thoughts move on.
No fancy vacation agenda. No event planning. Just a woman and a camera, and a couple days on the chilly Spring beach celebrating the changing of seasons. Should be everything I need to rest and reset and return to life’s busy routine recharged and ready to start a bunch of new projects for Spring. I’m looking forward to it.
Evening Light 