Archives for posts with tag: gratitude

Complicated morning. Some mornings are like that.

I woke too early, and faced with my Traveling Partner’s stress after a bad night, I quickly agreed to just go ahead and get dressed and go to work (at a cowork space) and got dressed and left. The cowork space available to me now doesn’t open until 07:00 a.m., and it was not yet 04:00 a.m., I figured I would just drive to the nearby nature park, and get a walk in as the sun rose. This works for me.

I made a stop at the 24-hour gas station, on my way by and bought a can of cold brew coffee. It was still so early, none of the coffee places were open yet, but I really wanted some coffee, and my headache was making that feel non-negotiable. So. Canned coffee it is.

…And also? Fuck pain…

I got to the nature park so early, it wasn’t open yet, either, and I had to wait for the gate to open at daybreak. Thats okay; I’m good at waiting. It’s just unusual to wait for the gate on a morning when the sun rises so early. lol

Yesterday, I spent my birthday with my Traveling Partner. We hung out watching videos most of the day. It was a simple day relaxing at home, complicated by my partner having had an allergic reaction to medication he’d been given. Seems like yesterday saw him over the worst of that. (Fucking hell, he’s been through so much this year. I wish I could do more to help.)

I’d have worked from home today to be around to provide support and care giving when needed, but my partner is likely to be incredibly irritable today as he finishes the process of coming off the medication that he reacted to… We both agreed, yesterday, it would probably be best if I wasn’t home for that if possible. (This morning’s early wake up call was a bit unexpected, but beyond that, the day seems pretty routine.)

…G’damn, canned coffee is honestly pretty fucking awful…

I had the trail to myself when my walk began, shortly after the gate opened, and after a brief text conversation with my Traveling Partner that tended to confirm his impression that he’d be so grumpy today that my best choice would be to be elsewhere. It stung a bit to have my loving-kindness thoroughly misunderstood, but I understand the shit he’s going through.  I let it go and got on with my walk. The trail became fairly crowded quite quickly for so early (and on a work day), but summer is nearly here, so perhaps I should not be surprised. Other than some silent greetings, a hand wave or a nod or smile in passing, there seemed a tacit agreement that it’s too early for speaking, and I continued my walk more or less alone with my thoughts.

…The sunrise was as close to being “boring” as a sunrise can be, with the dawn coming to clear skies, and nothing more exciting than a hint of yellow low on the horizon. I’m nonetheless supremely grateful for a new day and a chance to begin again. 61, eh? 😆 Feels just like 60…

Grateful for another sunrise.

I stop at my halfway point to sit, meditate, and write a few words. This bit of writing is a practice I find incredibly helpful for gaining perspective, and for practicing non-attachment and gratitude. It’s a bit like practicing self-reflection “out loud” to share my thoughts with you this way, though we may never meet, or discuss what I’ve shared. I often use the opportunity to reframe my bleaker or more difficult moments in a way that provides me greater depth of understanding, more insight (I hope), and positivity. I admit it; it takes some effort to be positive and practice gratitude, sometimes. I’ve definitely found it worthwhile as practices go. Cynicism, pessimism, and negativity never served me very well at all, and actually seriously limited my ability to grow, to heal, and to thrive. I’ve never regretted giving those up in favor of optimism, positivity, and a zest for living a life rich in joy and wonder. I can’t force anyone else to see things my way, or make this change in thinking. It’s enough to share that it has been meaningful and worthwhile for me personally to make this change. (It does take practice and my results do vary.)

…The sun climbs higher into the clear blue of the June sky, as I sit with my thoughts…

I hear voices approaching from around the bend in the trail and check the time. Looks like time to head back to the car and make the drive to the cowork office.

…It’s definitely time to begin again.

Well, here it is… my birthday. 61. I’ve made it another year! Well done, me. lol

…I’m glad I’ve made it this far…

At birth, my cohort life expectancy was 73.4 years, although my familial longevity hints at my potential to be around much longer. (I’ve also got family members whose lives were much shorter… It definitely matters to take care of one’s health and avoid high risk activities.) My individual circumstances being what they have been, I wasn’t confident I’d get this far (in spite of my aspirational notion that I would like to see 2083…).

…I’m glad to be here…

No elaborate plans for the day, aside from quietly celebrating my survival thus far, and spending the day more or less doing what I’d like. I took the day off. My Traveling Partner is still on the injured list, so definitely available to enjoy the day with me, and also needing me to be available to help out and provide care. Managing an intimate connected balance being present for each other will probably guide the day. How else? We’re in this together.

…Maybe takeout from the French restaurant in town for dinner?..

I watch the sun rise from a local trail, walking with my thoughts, pausing to sit in the sunshine and write, before heading back to the car. I’ve survived 61 years of sometimes hard living and considerable trauma… but also joy, love, wonder, happiness, and an adequate measure of prosperity and success sufficient to see the here and now of my life become mostly pretty good. I’m loved. It’s a lovely day. Pretty good one for a birthday, for sure.

I think about the years to come… how many more, I wonder? 15? 20? 35? I walk along considering what sorts of things I can (or must) do to see the other side of 100 with my faculties and abilities intact. 40 more years of life as it is now would be pretty fucking splendid…

…Change is, though, and I have no idea what the future holds…

…It’d be pretty cool to make it to 120, I think, and to see how the world has changed…

I sigh, exhaling a deeply drawn breath of fresh meadow-sweet air. It’s time to begin again… Another year of practices. Another year of putting miles on these boots. Another year of living. It’s worth celebrating.

This morning I woke gently, aware of what a good day yesterday was, in spite of its difficult beginning (which, honestly, “wasn’t all that”). I found myself musing briefly over how easily a day getting off to a good start can “go off the rails”, and how often a seemingly poor start nonetheless finds its way to a pleasant day. The beginnings do not determine the outcomes. There are so very many choices and opportunities along the way, it seems a poor practice to insist on an entire day being whatever some one moment happens to be.

The morning is off to a promising start. I don’t read anything into it, and refrain from setting myself up for failure by expecting all the moments ahead to be as this one pleasant moment happens to be. I’m also not looking for disappointment or anticipating chaos. It’s simply a moment and I am enjoying it as it is.

As I leave the house to head down the road to a favorite trail, I’m greeted by a peculiar piebald sky. Past daybreak, which comes quite early this time of year, the sky is pale, a faded blue-not-quite-white, and scattered patterns of small dark gray clouds that crowd the northern horizon. Stormy looking, off in the distance. As I drive, a pink and magenta sunrise peeks out from among the distant hills, and I delight in the boldness of the colors with each glimpse. It doesn’t last, and I never quite get a view of it that lasts long enough to snap a picture. Some experiences have to be enjoyed as they happen, and there is no opportunity to save these for later, outside our fleeting memory.

Perhaps rain later…?

I get to the trailhead, put on my boots, and step onto the trail with a smile and my thoughts and a promise to finish this later.

Nice morning for it.

The air is mild and the morning very quiet. I had the trail alone this morning – a pleasant luxury. I walked with my thoughts, which were mostly rather practical.

I began tidying up my studio yesterday, and there’s a bit more to do. Because I had the option of working from an office in the city over the past 8 months, (and with my Traveling Partner injured), necessity and convenience slowly turned my studio into something more like storage than a creative work space. lol It makes sense to get that sorted out, and my studio returned to a clean and tidy work space, now. No office to go to presently, and my partner’s son moving in soon (temporary and welcome), I need this space for artistic endeavors, but also for work (doubles as my office), and even as a “personal retreat”, when I just can’t deal with people and need some solitude. It isn’t intended to be storage space, aside from the closet, in which my stored artworks are kept until they sell or hang somewhere.

…Yesterday was a lovely productive day…

I walked and thought. Nice morning for it.  I saw nutria playing along the marsh, at the waters edge. The young ones born this year are exploring their world with playful curiosity. I walked past a small herd of deer, which quietly watched me back as I walked past. (They were gone when I returned down the trail heading for the car.) There were little birds everywhere, squirrels too. The meadow flowers made the air sweet with their scents. The lupines are done blooming and are going to seed. Other flowers take their turn blooming. The trees are all fully leafed out now, and signs of summer are everywhere. Seasons change. Change is.

I get back to the car too early to head right home. I’d like to let my Traveling Partner sleep awhile. I take time to finish my writing and to meditate.

Sitting with my thoughts.

I think ahead to what my next bit of away time might be? I sigh impatiently when I recall I’ve never yet spent even one night home alone in our home. I yearn for that small luxury, but it  hasn’t worked out any time my Traveling Partner has made plans to be away.  Four years of projects, business,  and camping trips cut short by inclement weather, or deferred by illness. Travel plans derailed by injury or circumstance. It just hasn’t worked out; I’ve never been home alone here for more than a few hours, and even then in steady contact with my Traveling Partner throughout. We may as well have been in the living room together. lol Sometimes frustrating. Sometimes disappointing. Mostly I just feel loved. I hold out hope that I may yet experience the luxury of solitude at home, here, eventually… I’m for sure not holding my fucking breath, though!

…I’m not even bitching, really, I’m fortunate to have other options to get the solitary time I need…

So… yeah… sometime in these upcoming summer weeks maybe another camping trip? Maybe a weekend on the coast in a favorite little hotel? Maybe a road trip to see distant friends, with the solitude being a nice interlude between visits? I know the busy-ness and chaos of getting my stepson moved in later this month will take a lot out of me, and potentially leave me scrambling for any kind of alone time at all, grateful perhaps to find even 10 minutes alone behind a closed bathroom door, or in my office during the work day during an uninterrupted hour. I know how such circumstances affect me. I also know to plan ahead in summer months.

…I think about late July and wonder…

…On the other hand, I don’t know that I will be free to travel, at all; my partner has surgery coming up, not yet scheduled  but expected to be scheduled soon for a date as early as available (not an emergency, but a high priority)… could be I will need to be home to care for him (and of course that needs to come first).

I sigh and catch myself grousing silently about the inconveniences and difficulties of adulthood… but I silence myself; I’m fortunate that these are the challenges I am facing. It could be ever so much worse. I take a moment for gratitude. Happy to be in the partnership I’m in, with a human being who lives me deeply, and looking ahead to enjoying the summer at home, puttering in my garden, and living my life gently. It’s enough.

I smile, breathe, exhale, and relax, watching the blue sky spread from horizon to horizon. I  look over my rather practical list of things to do today and add a reminder to cut back bolting greens in the garden and harvest peas for dinner. Looks like a lovely day ahead and it’s time to begin again.

In spite of my dreadful headache yesterday, and a brief moment of temper between my Traveling Partner and I, yesterday was quite  a good day. We enjoyed each other. Got some stuff done individually and together. Hung out. Shared meals. Laughed together. A good day.

Again today my allergies (tree pollen specific to the area) are vexing me, but I am grateful that the headache I had yesterday is gone. That’s a big deal for such a small thing.  Another work day, and already it feels as if I have been back awhile, although it’s only the second work shift since my camping trip. lol Funny how time (and our sense of it) works.

The sunrise had already gotten going by the time I left the house. Sunrise comes early this time of year. I happily hit the trail feeling comfortable and strong  which is a good feeling. I’m glad I remembered to shove some tissues into my pocket,  but aside from the minor inconvenience of seasonal allergies, it’s a lovely morning to be walking in the sunshine. It lights the leaves and blades of grass. The colors change as the sun rises. Earlier, a mist clung to low spots, now little birds hop and peck in the grass. I walk on, finally taking a seat on a bench at my halfway point to reflect and write a few words. My fingers feel the chill of morning, but the morning isn’t particularly chilly.

I sigh with a smile, enjoying the moment just as it is. I sit with my thoughts awhile.

I look over my calendar for the day. Routine.  One detail of working from home that I really value is the greater ease and convenience of getting things done. Running all the errands after a work day is insanely fatiguing. Working them into the day easily because I am near home is handy, and holds so much less potential to find that I have overextended myself! So, work and a couple errands? No problem. Easy.

I sit in the sunshine a little longer. It’s just about time to begin again…

This morning the sun is shining in my eyes, though I’ve lowered the window shades to cut the glare. The season continues to evolve, Spring towards summer, and here I am with the sun in my eyes on a lovely Spring morning. I’m grateful. I don’t even mind the sun in my eyes. 😀

Small wins can make big differences. My appointment yesterday had a pleasant outcome; I don’t need surgery for a thing that seemed quite a big deal (to be something so small)… and as it turns out, it’s not something I need be worried about (at least for now, and maybe not at all). Win. I’ll take it. 😀 I sip my coffee with the sun shining in my eyes, feeling grateful. No surgery looming over me. Nice. I even had a very good experience with the medical care, and the physician, generally – I’m making a point to pause to appreciate that, because it hasn’t always been the case, at all, and I’m still dragging around some baggage over that.

I sigh and smile to myself. Feels like a good morning. It’s Friday, and it’s a short work day. I’ve got a manicure appointment at noon, and then home to start the weekend. Feels good. I sit with the good feelings awhile – there’s definitely value in staying with the good feelings for a little while. I think most of us don’t even notice the way we linger in our shittiest moments, reviving them for further scrutiny over and over again (as if that’s at all helpful), then just glossing over our moments of joy and contentment as though these fleeting moments somehow have less value than the shitty ones. (Maybe don’t do that, eh?) When I finally did learn how much value there is in lingering over my small joys and simple moments of contentment or delight, and learned to savor what is good in my life, the way my life felt overall changed a lot. Instead of a fairly miserable experience of existence pocked with occasional relief that felt both too-brief, and also likely to be “a trap” setting me up for future worse misery, my life became characterized by calm and contentment, with occasional experiences of sorrow, grief, frustration, or anger. Disappointment became… a moment. Anger became… transitory. Life began to feel pretty good, generally. I still have to make a point to practice “taking in the good” and savoring the best moments my experience has to offer. I don’t avoid or dodge life’s challenges, or pretend I can “manifest” them away from being what they are – but I can cope, because I know they are temporary. Incremental change over time – becoming what I practice – has meant that my life is, day-to-day, pretty good these days. It’s nice. (10 out of 10; do recommend. lol)

How does a person even begin to make this transformation? I think it starts simply enough; anger does not easily compete with gratitude. When I find myself beginning to feel angry, I deliberately pause and consider what I’m grateful for in the situation I find myself in or with regards to the person I am angry with. It helps “turn down the heat” in that moment, and gives me a chance to regain perspective. Similarly, with sorrow, with disappointment… gratitude is a great way to balance perspective. It’s not about “faking it”; there are often legitimate details in a challenging circumstance that we may feel grateful for, if we just take a moment to consider it from that perspective. Anxiety and fear work a little differently (for me), instead of gratitude, I reach for my curiosity, and my desire to know more and understand more deeply. The point, really, is to spin the difficulty such that I’m not mired in what is most difficult, so much as viewing it through the lens of other aspects of that experience – or making a point to deliberately consider something else altogether different, that brings other emotions into play, “unsticking me” from my hurt, my anger, or other similarly painful, harder to manage, emotional experiences.

Our emotions are not the enemy

…And “being emotional” is not an insult. The hidden win is to develop “emotional intelligence” and reliably good skill at appropriate emotional regulation (which can be developed… it takes practice).

I smile and sip my coffee. I take a moment to enjoy my breakfast salad (how did this so easily become “a thing”? Why haven’t I always done this? I feel so good in the mornings these days…). Another weekend already here… and that means another shot (Ozempic), another weigh-in, another opportunity to reflect on progress and become aware of slow steady change. I’m counting down the days to my camping trip, too… that’d be 9 days to go, now. 😀

What defines a luxury?

I make time for early morning conversation with my Traveling Partner. We talk about the deck (needs repairs) and the hot tub (older and super noisy), and the discussion quickly becomes the sort of productive strategy and planning conversation that really brings a new project to life… we decide to shut down the hot tub “permanently” (this one, at least), in favor of removing it and replacing it after the deck is repaired (rebuilt) with improved quality of life features in mind. These are things we’d talked about when we bought the house (4 years ago), but other things (reasonably) had to come first (like the roof). Homeownership has so many qualities I love over renting – “a place of my own” being top of my personal list there – and I do love the flexibility to change things as we’d like, but … damn… so much adulting required, and effort, and commitment, and time, and money… and… I’m okay with all of it. It’s exciting and satisfying, as each project begins and finishes. My Traveling Partner has great ideas and the skills needed to bring this to life. I’m eager to help, and see how things turn out. I’m definitely a fan of replacing the hot tub with a more energy efficient, quieter model. (I’ll bet the neighbors will be too; this old thing is super noisy!) Having a hot tub feels almost non-negotiable for me at this point, though… I get so much value out of it (pain relief, improvement mobility), now we’ve just got to sort out the details…

My thoughts wander from the here and now to a future I can see but can’t touch (yet). I feel hopeful – for a lot of reasons – and grateful. It’s a good feeling. I feel wrapped in love, and fortunate to have a really good partnership that enhances my life. I’m ready to begin again. 😀