Archives for posts with tag: happy place

Sometimes life feels easy. Mostly life does not feel easy, at all (for me). Stress comes and goes. Uncertainty. Doubt. Worry over this or that new challenge. Circumstances that are a poor fit for the life we want to live. It’s not always a money thing. Sometimes it is. It’s not always about trauma, chaos, and damage. Sometimes it is. One thing I’m pretty clear on, these days; we’re each having our own experience, colored by our expectations and assumptions, filtered through our experiences, and understood using an internal dictionary it is highly likely no one else really shares. We bitch about left and right, about right and wrong, ignoring the likelihood that whoever is listening means something a bit different by those terms than we do, ourselves. We default to speaking in sound bites and slogans, even when we know how empty those may be. Human primates are weird. We treat each other poorly, even though our relationships with each other are the single most important thing about our individual experiences.

I sigh to myself. I’m in the co-work space getting settled in to begin the work day. The commute into the office was easy to the point of being surreal; I hit all the traffic signals along the way green, and there was never a car ahead of me going slower than I was, nor anyone creeping up on me from behind wanting to go faster. I hope the entire day feels like that. Seems unlikely; I slept poorly, and I’m already feeling signs of fatigue (or, perhaps, not quite fully awake, yet).

If someone asked me, right now, how I’m doing, I would say “not bad”, and the realization that such a conversation would go that way makes me roll my eyes and sigh softly with some measure of impatience and frustration. That sort of negative turn of phrase suits me, creatively, but isn’t ideal for communication. It was one of the first things my Traveling Partner ever asked me to consider changing, when we were getting to know each other. Hilariously, I misunderstood that request so thoroughly, I proceeded down a path of personal growth that wasn’t the intention, and became someone far more positive in general than I’d ever been previously. I have no comment whether this is – or was – a change for the better. I suppose, probably, and I am more content and joyful in life, but I don’t know that there is a causal relationship between that change and this experience. It’s just an interesting, mildly amusing recollection, as I start my day.

…I’m tired, and my mind wanders…

No walk this morning. Maybe later? It is a lovely autumn morning, and daybreak is just beginning. I smile and stretch, and think about recent other walks, and other mornings.

The colors of fall inspire me, and I think about paintings I have not yet painted.

I think about walking my path, as a metaphor for progress, growth, and forward momentum – changes over time, step by step, along a journey without a map. This life thing has so many options, choices, and “side quests”, it is sometimes difficult to imagine it as a single path. It twists, turns, and detours through experiences I hadn’t considered, or even imagined. The menu in The Strange Diner is vast.

I enjoy the routine of walking a familiar path, but change is often waiting for me somewhere along the way.

I find myself missing the library desk from which I most often work, these days. My “happy place” is not some fixed point of geography. It is my office & studio at home. It is in my garden. It is on the trail at dawn, watching the sun rise. It is in a quiet moment with my Traveling Partner. It is in a library, perhaps most of all. The library was one of the first places where I felt truly safe, surrounded by stacks of books, and rows of shelves, the air still and quiet and smelling of… history? Smelling of stories and narratives and the printed word, and seeming almost infinitely grand and somehow limitless. I love libraries. Small libraries in modest homes, big university libraries, legendary libraries that have stood the test of time over actual centuries – they each have that “library quality”.

How can someone be bored, in a library, when every shelf holds unexplored knowledge and infinite adventure?

I let my mind wander awhile longer. I’m okay for most values of “okay”. It’s an ordinary work day, in a fairly ordinary life – and that’s entirely fine. It’s enough. I glance at the clock, and notice the time. I breathe, exhale, and relax, before I begin again.

I’m sitting at the edge of the meadow along a favorite trail. It’s a Sunday morning. I slept in a bit and by the time I arrived here, the sun was well up. I’m trying to organize my thoughts regarding dinner much later, and go over my list of housekeeping tasks I’d like to get through, today (just basic stuff, nothing overly demanding or complicated).

A place, a moment, a feeling.

Yesterday was weird. I was so tired and sleepy. I went home, ran an errand for my Traveling Partner, and then crashed out for a nap. I slept deeply for four hours. I more or less slept the entire day away. 😂 I must have needed the rest. I had no trouble sleeping last night. I feel fine this morning.

It’s a lovely morning. Suitable for beginnings. The neighbors were partying late into the night. They’re generally pretty quiet, so we shrugged it off, though much later I thought I heard my partner calling to them out the window. I couldn’t rouse myself enough to ask. I managed to wake feeling quite rested in spite of the noisy night.

Grateful for the mild summer morning.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. From this beautiful place, it’s hard to imagine that life is ever difficult, but sometimes it is. Perspective is helpful, so is having a break. I smile thinking about my upcoming camping trip next weekend. I hope the weather is pleasant and mild like it has been this weekend.

It is a pleasant summer Sunday, well-suited to beginning again. I should get on that; the clock is ticking.

What a beautiful morning! The sunrise was nearly over when I reached the trailhead. I hit the trail as soon as my boots were on. The sky was hues of tangerine and peach, and the sun was a deep orange as it rose. Mt Hood was a misty lavender silhouetted against the colorful sunrise and I walked eastwards, shading my eyes from the glare, full of a sense of wonder.

… I didn’t think to take a picture, I was immersed in experiencing the moment…

The trail takes a turn into the trees, if I bear left where it divides. Everything is so green! It’s that time in Spring when all the marsh and meadow grasses are rich hues of green, the trees are fully dressed in their Spring finery, and all of the Spring-blooming flowers present colorful accents to the lush assortment of greens everywhere I look. So beautiful! I walk with my thoughts, grinning to myself. Robins call to each other. A young blue jay follows my progress on the trail, flitting from tree to tree, watching me.

Spring.

Later a bit of housework, maybe some gardening, definitely a stop at a local nursery to inspire (and soothe) me after yet another sighting of the doe eating my damned garden. I laugh in spite of my frustration. I’d rather deal with the deer than not have a garden at all.

I think about animes that we’re watching as a family, and their common themes of growth over time, and the will to act, and the need to persist in the face of hardship and challenges. I find them inspiring (even when a little ludicrous and exaggerated). There are useful moral lessons in those animes that are nothing to do with any one religion or school of thought, and everything to do with becoming one’s best self, and living ethically and making wise choices. They present stories of complexity and demonstrate the importance of compassion, consideration, and perspective. They teach with kindness, humor, and art. It’s a world worth exploring.

I sigh, sitting in the sunshine at my halfway point watching a doe standing quietly in the adjacent meadow, nibbling at the grasses. She bolts when I turn my camera in her direction and the picture I snap is blurry.

I sit awhile longer with my thoughts, ignoring physical pain in favor of enjoying the sunshine. I should definitely make time for the garden…

I breathe, exhale, and relax. Lovely morning for it. I wonder where the day will take me? The air smells sweet with wildflowers. I sneeze a couple times and laugh at myself – I don’t care about the sneezes nearly as much as I enjoy the fragrance of flowers. I’m glad I shoved a pack of tissues in my pocket, though. Handy. Another breath, another moment with my thoughts. Soon it’ll be time to walk back down the trail and begin again.