healthy practices | Evening Light

Yesterday was a pretty relaxed day of getting things done, although not that many things, and rather slowly. I spent the day in pain, and that put pain management as a high priority, competing for my attention through the day. My Traveling Partner was also dealing with pain, and struggling to focus on the work he was doing, too. We managed to enjoy the day together in spite of pain. Later, when the Anxious Adventurer returned home from work, he brought his own pain along with him. Nonetheless, we all mostly managed to mostly enjoy the time, without complicating the experience with pain. That’s something, and I sit for a moment this morning, grateful for the good day yesterday in spite of pain. Everybody hurts sometimes… Living with chronic pain is its own special hell, but it can be managed to some extent.

It could have been worse; I found enough “spoons” to bake cookies.

I woke this morning from a deep restful sleep, and was awake for a few minutes before I realized I wasn’t asleep anymore. I got dressed and headed to the local trailhead I favor. I don’t have any reason to drive further, really, and this is a pleasant trail and it is a quiet morning. It’s Labor Day weekend, and there’s no one here but me, so far. It’s the sort of weekend a lot of families use to go to the coast or to the mountains, this little suburban trail is neither of those.

A hazy summer sky reminds me that the world is burning, elsewhere.

I walk the trail, down through the oaks, between the parking lot and the vineyards, winding around the bend past mature grape vines, and down into the trees that grow more densely along the creek, until I get to this spot, convenient to sit a moment with my thoughts. I’ve grown very comfortable with practicing meditation outside, somewhere along the trail I’ve chosen, in the early morning. I’m rarely interrupted. It’s pleasant and quite calming. Lovely morning for it, in spite of the haze of distant wildfires.

… I’m still in pain (again) today. Like a lot of people, I live with chronic pain…

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I reflect on age, and aging, the vagaries of the absolutely crap-tacular US healthcare system, and what it means to balance endurance with joy, and what it takes to thrive in spite of chronic pain. Then I let all that go and enjoy this lovely morning moment of quiet contentment out here on this trail. I’m less anxious, knowing I’ll go back to work on Tuesday, which is helpful. Like a lot of other things, anxiety tends to worsen pain, or at least seems to make it more difficult to manage or ignore.

I watch some chipmunks playing at the edge of the trees. They delight me. I would definitely pet one if it came close enough, and laugh at myself over it. It’s probably not a good idea to try to pet wild creatures, generally speaking. I spend a moment wondering if I’m such a chucklehead that I’d actually do something so foolish, or would I only want to? I find myself unable to be entirely certain. I hope I’d choose wisely. My ability to apply self-restraint and impulse control are much better on the GLP-1 I’ve now been taking for more than a year. It has improved my life quite a lot, because I’m not so likely to do dumb shit “because it seemed like the thing to do at the time”.

The rising sun illuminates the strip of meadow beyond the trail that separates the forest from the vineyard. I see an elder couple walking their dog slowly approaching from the farthest point along the trail still visible to me. Nice morning for it, and I knew I wouldn’t have the trail to myself indefinitely. They wave and offer a cheery greeting as they pass. I wave back and reply.

More housework today, I guess, that’s the routine. Pain slows me down, but I try to avoid letting it stop me. There’s just too much to do, and we’re all in pain (in this household) – someone still has to get things done. When we all commit to doing what we can and coordinate our efforts, we still manage a pretty good quality of life, and sometimes even manage to forget the pain for a little while. It doesn’t do to let things go too long, it’s harder to catch up than it is to stay on top of things.

…New job Tuesday…

I sigh to myself and enjoy the cool summer morning and the scents on the breeze. Meadow flowers. Mown grasses. Forest and creek. The lavender scent I’m wearing, that reaches my nose when I move. My hair feels soft on my shoulders and I wonder again if I should get it cut? I feel comfortable in my skin in spite of my pain, and grateful to have worn a sweater over my lighter summer top. The first hints of autumn approaching are all around, and the cooler morning is just one sign.

I’ve lingered here awhile and my legs are beginning to feel stiff. It’s time to walk on. This day is a good one to get things done… but there are definitely some verbs involved. lol It’s time to begin again.

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.

House of Pain

Gray and Dreary

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House of Pain

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Gray and Dreary

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