Archives for posts with tag: gratitude

I am lingering in this moment, waiting for a break in the rain at this favorite trailhead. Nice morning for walking, if the rain stops for a little while. The forecast suggests it will, soon.

For some time I simply sat quietly, listening to the rain, the traffic on the nearby highway, and my tinnitus. A pleasant and uncomplicated interlude, and time well-spent alone with my thoughts, just being.

I am contemplating contemplation. Thinking about vita contemplativa. Considering solitude, stillness, and self-reflection. I am pondering presence, and the idea of ichi-go ichi-e. We live such busy lives. It’s clear to me that there is more to living a “good life” than being busy. Work and “productive effort” really isn’t all there is, and I have real doubts that it is even the most important part of life… In fact, I’m fairly certain it is not. So much of what we are exists apart from the work that we do.

Work and consumption and doom-scrolling through the various feeds seeking to profit from my attention span are a relatively meaningless piece of my life. Why let these details consume my precious limited mortal lifetime? There’s so much else to experience, to enjoy, and to feel. I sit with my thoughts and my awareness of this moment. Time becomes irrelevant when I am fully present in my life, experiencing the journey, awake, aware, and really “here for it”.

I’m not busy right now. That’s intentional. I’m also not bored, nor seeking anything to become busy with. I’m okay with this quiet moment spent with my thoughts, living this moment, listening to the rain fall, and watching the slow approach of dawn.

When was the last time you took a moment to do nothing at all, but to do that very deliberately, quite aware of your experience of the moment, simply being, without agenda or impatience? Without drama or bullshit? Without occupying your attention with a screen in front of you or a device in your hand? I’m finding such experiences very worthwhile, restful, luxurious, delicious moments of freedom from the clock, “hearing myself think”.

I write a few words. I’ll sit awhile longer. The rain will stop, and I’ll lace up my boots, pick up my cane, and head down the trail eager to begin again, aware how much it matters to really experience the journey.

With the dawn, a new beginning.

I’ve gone down a strange rabbit hole of self-reflection over my coffee this morning, thinking about “meaning”, “purpose”, “gratitude”, and “authenticity”. It started simply enough with the thought that I might write a few words on being positive in life, which quickly got tangled up in thoughts of how to do that… or… become that… This lead me to contemplating authenticity, and how necessary and valuable that is (in my opinion). Giving thought to how to become a more positive person (which took me quite some time and practice, myself) and the need to approach that from a place of authenticity took me further to thoughts of gratitude, practicing gratitude, and the feelings that doing so give me (which I find profoundly uplifting and positive as a practice).

…Somehow I found myself thinking of meaning, and living a meaningful life, and feeling a sense of purpose, which got me considering more deeply the nuances of both “meaning” and “purpose”…

Here I sit with my coffee, meditating on the meaning of “meaning” and the purpose of “purpose”, and the differences between them, and the places where they intersect in my life, and… how I got here in the first place. Eventually, I Googled “difference between purpose and meaning” and read a few of the results. I found myself nodding now and then, and other times disagreeing with some detail, and never quite “answering the question” – which I hadn’t framed as a question in the first place. Is this useful self-reflection? Am I considering deeply some important ideas the results of which may further my journey or light my path in some way? Am I wasting precious limited mortal time? Some combination of all of these?

I sip my coffee and think my thoughts. I’m grateful for the questions, and I’m okay with lacking clear answers. I’m content to play with the words in my head on a Thursday morning, reflecting on this human journey, and where I’ve been, and where I’m headed. I enjoy the moment, and my coffee; it’s enough. The questions linger, and I’m okay with that. Questions make good beginnings.

I’m sipping my coffee from the relative comfort of the office, having just put the finishing touches on the budget for this payday. I sigh quietly. The big gift-giving holiday of the year is behind me, now, and although the glow and warmth and merriment linger in my recollection and my sense of things, it’s definitely time to put my focus on paying the bills. We’ve got to pay for our fun, and this is a pretty solid, reliable truth of the human experience. Choose your adventure; pay the price of admission. There’s always a price to be paid. Big choices, small choices, moments of overreach, investments in a future we earnestly desire – doesn’t matter “what it’s all about”, sooner or later the bills come due. Running from it just makes the interest pile up (metaphorical or actual – things don’t get less expensive if we try to avoid paying the cost).

I sit with my osteo-arthritis pain; the bill I pay for choosing to live – and to do so without violence. That broken back that griefs me on the regular? I find it hard to feel real regret over that; I chose life, my actual own life, rather than face likely (imminent) death at the hands of my violent ex-husband. Was the price too high? Hardly. It was very much worth the price I’ve paid – and will continue to pay. Doesn’t make it less expensive.

Thankfully, most of the time the bills that come due in life are merely actual bills – the payments we have to make for some moment of fun we chose to have. This morning, I’m looking over my budget, grateful for the job that pays for the life my Traveling Partner and I are fortunate to share at this point in our lives. We’re not wealthy, and probably never will be (I don’t think it’s really a goal for either of us, honestly – we just want to enjoy “enough”), but the pantry is stocked, and we’ve got electricity, heat, running water, and highspeed internet. We’ve got books to read and a well-outfitted shop in which to make things (or fix things). We’ve got our little garden, and our life together. It’s enough. It is, in fact, the best life I’ve personally ever been so fortunate as to enjoy, and it’s definitely worth the price I pay when the bills come due. Isn’t that the important thing? That it feels worth it, I mean? That it feels like enough?

I sit with my gratitude in this quiet moment, hoping that this good time in our life together lasts a good long while. The future isn’t written and the world is full of turmoil. It’s hard to say where the future will take any of us, or how long one mortal life may last. I look over the budget one more time, and ask a question I know matters – although I don’t like to consider it; what can I do to protect my partner’s future from uncertainty if “the ultimate bill” comes due, and he’s left to go on without me? I don’t run from that thought these days – it’s too important to overlook it, and the bills always come due, eventually. That was a hard lesson to learn, but it’s an important one. So, I recommit myself to freedom from debt and building our savings; if either of us is left to deal with life alone, it’d be nice not to worry about debt. We have shared values and a shared understanding on this detail, and we plan together. It’s a partnership, for real. I smile to myself; it feels good to have a proper partner on life’s journey. More to be grateful for.

I sip my coffee. I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s a mortal life, sure, but so worth taking time to savor each precious moment. I look at the calendar – 4 more days to the near year. Already? Already. Time to begin again.

I’m at the trailhead, changing shoes for boots, and appreciating the quite nice Alpaca hiking socks I got for Giftmas from the Anxious Adventurer. They’re cozy and splendidly comfortable, durable and warm. I’m enjoying a chance to walk this trail in the drizzly daylight of Giftmas day. I have it to myself. I smile, and sigh to myself, filled to overflowing with contentment and joy, and yes – I feel happy. Thoroughly actually happy, which is a sufficiently rare feeling that I am inclined to savor it with a grin, and my whole self, fully present. I get on with my walk.

Gray and drizzly on the outside.

I get to my preferred halfway point. The rain isn’t much as rain goes around here, but even so, I’m grateful for the pause in the fairly steady drizzle, while I stop for a moment. The rock I’m sitting on is mostly dry. I covered it with my fleece to keep from getting my jeans damp as I sit. It’s a mild afternoon. After I get home, I’ll get started in dinner tasks. I’m making a roast in the Dutch oven. Should be tasty.

I smile to myself like a kid, without embarrassment or reserve; it’s been a wholly splendid merry holiday and I am still all aglow inside from merry-making and joy. We woke early, my Traveling Partner and I. We opened our stockings together, while the Anxious Adventurer slept, and later enjoyed watching him open his. So fun!! Then the gifts. We took them in turns, enjoying the moment with each other as each new treasure was revealed. Wow. Just… Wow. So much fun. I’m sure there are folks who spent more, or gave more lavishly, or selected more exotic gifts, but there’s no way anyone put more love into their holiday than we did into ours. I’m still reeling from how loved I feel. How…”visible”.

… This is definitely among my top ten best Giftmas holidays ever. Maybe in my top 5 (and I’m including childhood holidays, when Santa was as real as any other person)

Like a software upgrade for a human primate.

I’m eager to read each of the books I got (and there are several, each amazing), and to get started putting my own recipes into the new personal recipe book my Traveling Partner got me. It’s really nice and a great improvement over the tattered old one that has lingered from my first marriage. Everything about this holiday feels so… perfect. Crazy. Not sustainable, obviously, but I don’t expect such intense feelings of joy, delight, and satisfaction to endure. It’s a moment. Quite a splendid memorable happy moment, worth savoring and cherishing. It’s already time to begin again, though. Moments pass.

I smile to myself, thinking my thoughts. I gaze down the trail. It’s sprinkling again. Time to walk on. I feel refreshed by the walk in the fresh winter air. I’m grateful for the mild weather, rain and all. I think ahead to making dinner. It’s not a fancy menu, but the roast is a good cut of beef, by itself a treat. So many of these delightful holiday moments have been built on “simple ingredients”, handled well. There’s something to learn there.

I let my smile lift me to my feet. I breathe, exhale, and relax. Time to begin again.

My sleep was disturbed and restless and the night seemed to pass slowly. My dreams were unsettling, but not actually nightmares. I went to bed in pain after an unproductive day struggling to manage pain and still get some housework done. The Giftmas holiday is almost here and I’d like the living room to be quite presentable in photographs. Seems reasonable – my pain and energy level may have the last word, in spite of my intentions.

I woke still in pain. (Fuck pain.) I started my day in a routine way. It’s the last work shift for me before the holiday. We settled on fried rice for Giftmas eve dinner; I remind myself to make rice after work today so I have that ready to use for tomorrow evening. After some discussion, we decided a simple breakfast of scrambled eggs, link sausages, and toast would be lovely for Giftmas morning. We all know we’re likely to over-indulge in rich treats and favorite sweets, and a hearty protein-rich breakfast will be a nice balance. My Traveling Partner spoke up in the evening, yesterday, and asked for roast beef for Giftmas dinner. Looks like I need to make a trip to the store for a roast, and some potatoes (for mashing), and a vegetable… and maybe some nice dinner rolls? (I could bake, but fucking hell, I’m just one woman.) It all sounds lovely.

I sit quietly for a moment, just thinking it over. Not planning, or “walking myself through it” in any sort of tactical way, just imagining the moments, the flavors, and the warm sentiment. Family at home for the holidays. Wholesome. There won’t be any shootings or violence at our house over the holidays; that’s not who we are. Hell, there may not be any harsh words or impatience, though we’re human and there certainly could be. There will be love and joy and humor and gratitude and fun. There will be celebration and looking ahead to another year. There will be tasty meals and delightful treats, and gifts to enjoy once opened.

… Here’s an important question; in a household of adults only, is it coffee and breakfast first, or gifts first? I chuckle to myself. I’m like a child over Giftmas and often forget we can easily wait, easily take time with all of it. We can even sleep in, if we can sleep. There’s no rush…

A wonderful Giftmas time

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I’m excited for the holiday, but recognize how easily excitement can become anxiety or irritability. I remind myself to put love first, to listen deeply, to be mindful of social cues and patient with those around me. We’re enjoying this together, but we’re each having our own experience. I sit with my feelings of contentment and quiet excitement. For now, that’s enough.