Archives for posts with tag: I am my own cartographer

I woke to the sound of rain falling. Although the drenching shower has diminished to a friendly patter by the time I sit down with my coffee, I’ve enjoyed it. I have no firm expectations of the behavior of rain, beyond that it will, at some point, fall. I’m a pluviophile; I enjoy the rain.

Whether I like rain or not, there’s no stopping it when it comes time for rain to fall. I can stay indoors, if I choose. I can venture forth, it’s another choice. Generally the choice is entirely my own, today I have an appointment. “Letting it rain” is more an approach to the inevitability of rain, which I can’t control at all. I breathe the scent of it. I enjoy the splendor of rain drops, all their forms, all their sizes. I enjoy the peculiar alterations to just about everything touched by the rain, transformed for a time. I treasure rainy days.

Raindrops on roses.

Raindrops on roses.

This morning, I’ll take my coffee by the patio door, comfortably seated on my meditation cushion, watching the rain fall. It is a lovely moment, and very much enough. ๐Ÿ™‚

Here it is, another morning. I’ve an on site job interview for a promising position firmly within my area of expertise. I remind myself to let go of clinging to an outcome, and trust myself to do well, without fear or self-criticism.

Life has so much to offer, no one moment carries the weight of a lifetime… unless of course, I were to choose that it would, and invest my will in it. I’m a human primate. I tend towards making “Moments” out of moments. I breathe, and let go the meta-anxiety developing around the very mild, rather inconsequential background tension so common to an imminent interview. There’s no need for it to become more than that.

Begin again. Again.

Begin again. Again.

It’s a cool, gray morning. The clouds overhead are those that look rather like some distracted artists smudged them in place with charcoal, then tried to wipe them away after a change of heart. No sunshine this morning, and the forecast suggests that rain would not be entirely unexpected. I think over my interview clothes, and sip my coffee, staring out over the meadow to the treeline beyond.

I think about life in the context of giving up 40 hours a week of precious lifetime for someone else’s agenda; it sits uneasily in my awareness, but without the agita, stress, and feeling of violation that had accompaniedย it for so long. I suppose there may be people who don’t find themselves with anything to do in life besides be employed at a job somewhere, or embracing some potentially lucrative career of some sort… that isn’t me. I definitely have more than enough to do, for me, myself, to occupy fully all of my time. I include among those desirable endeavors the time and opportunity to sit quietly, enjoying the stillness within. ๐Ÿ™‚

I find myself becoming emotionally involved with the idea of working, and not in a positive way. I breathe. Relax. Let it go. (Again.) I suspect I’ll be doing this a lot, this morning. That’s okay, too; it’s a practice. ๐Ÿ™‚

So…here I go. Dipping a toe in the icy water of returning to “gainful employment”. Quite properly “grown up”, I suppose. Today is a good day to make choices that meet my needs over time. ๐Ÿ™‚

This morning begins fairly slowly, and generally pleasantly. I woke before sunrise, and sat quietly for some time, without purpose, or pressure to do more. I listened to my traveling partner’s voice, on the voicemail waiting for me this morning from a missed call last night, letting me know he had arrived for the night, and settled in safely. I smile again thinking of the sound of his voice, and sip my coffee.

I didn’t sleep much Friday night, and Saturday passed quietly in that peculiar fragmented way that sometimes results from fatigue. It was a pleasant day, and I have no complaints about it. I spent it relaxing, reading, and writing. Having found myself facing the rare inspiration to write fiction, I began a short story that held my attention long enough to become really excited about it. I may finish it today… or… it may die a slow death from later disinterest. There’s no predicting that, although I have a dreadful track record in the area of finishing fiction writing. lol Saturday seems easily wrapped up in a paragraph, this morning.

The way some days finish feels like a beginning.

The way some days finish feels like a beginning.

Friday was rather more eventful – at least, I’m still thinking it over. I spent most of Friday evening on meditation, of one form or another, and really deep diving some internal conflict, and taking a different look at some persistent bits of damaged this and that. It was constructive and practical time, spent in an accepting and compassionate place with myself, but it was also time spent taking a close look at next steps, “who I am”, and where the trajectory of my life is likely taking me, in a very honest way. It was a good evening for questions, and time well-spent.

Today I begin again.

Today I begin again.

Morning mist the day began with already gives way to golden sunshine. It’s a lovely beginning. I haven’t yet planned the day; I’m just enjoying the moment. What more worthy beginning could I undertake than to enjoy the moment I am in, right now? ๐Ÿ™‚

Today is a good day for beginnings and for moments.

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Begin again. Seriously, whatever it is that’s just not working out well, take the morning as a starting point, and begin again. Do over! Be the person you most want to be – today. Now. The very next conversation. It may go very well, it may go very poorly – it may take practice to be who you most want to be, as a human being. The distance between one human being and her goals varies by human being. We are each having our own experience.

Begin again.

It may go well, it may go poorly – you can even begin again tomorrow. Again. Don’t like who you are, when you think about the person in the mirror? Make different choices. Use different words. Begin yet again. Do you. No one else can be the person that you are, yourself. There is so much more to being and becoming than school-job-car-career-marriage-house-children-retirement-death, isn’t there?

What about that story you want to tell?

What about that place you yearn to go?

What about that idea you have?

What about that skill you want to develop?

A novelย doesn’t write itself when Iย am notย looking at the keyboard. The beautiful poem in my ย head doesn’t make it to the page without assistance. The walk toward the distance on which I might see many things isn’t going to unfold ahead of me without my also taking the steps. The painting I can see in my thoughts won’t hang on my wall – on any wall – unlessย I paint it.

This is my life. There are verbs involved. Every day, every moment, every choice, becomes an opportunity to be and to become more the woman I most want to be. I may never be a well-known author; I write nonetheless, and it is part of who I am. I am unlikely to be a famous artist; I paint, a lot, and the joy in it is the painting, itself. Over time I have come to accept as a given that it is the journey itself in which the value lies; destinations being so finite and limiting, are of far less importance. When I become focused on anย outcome, committed to a result more than an experience, I lose my way, mired in bullshit, drama, and tedious details – and forgetting this is my life, worth living.

Is love a journey or a destination? Or... is love a verb?

Is love a journey or a destination? Or… is love a verb?

I spent last evening wrapped in love. I’m still so soaked, so saturated, so imbued with sacred sentiment it’s harder than usual to use practical language, clear simple words, sentences with proper grammar and form; my heart soars, and my thoughts are poetry. I love. I am loved. It’s so much more than enough…

…I am not so easily able to love like this, fully, reciprocally, tenderly, openly, and with great consideration, without loving the woman in the mirror, first – and with a very similar enthusiasm and passion as what I might show a lover. Of course, there’s always more to learn. I reach for “How to Love” for today’s studious reading, and “More Than Two“, also. Today seems a good day to study love, to give it the serious support and earnest dedication to learning that one might give to a college course needed to graduate. What could be more important to study than love, and loving? It’s certain that I could be better at it, however good at it I may be in some one relationship, or some one moment.

Today is a good day for love, for loving, for being the woman I most want to be. There are verbs involved. My results may vary. That’s all okay, too; love is enough. ๐Ÿ™‚

I’m home. Gear unpacked, cleaned, put away for future use. There’s still the matter of sorting out thoughts and photographs; it was a peculiarly eventful trip out to the trees, but there’s little I can do about the matter of finding the words for it, at least for now.

The trail at Saddle Mountain bested me utterly, and by that I mean I didn’t make it to the top. ๐Ÿ™‚ I’m okay with that, still counting it among life’s successes – it’s often more about showing up than whatever the outcome may be. I managed a half mile up the trail, and back down, and learned more about howย having a clear-seeming destination can alter the characteristics of a journey. I enjoyed a day out among the trees, and returned home with only 17 mosquito bites. ๐Ÿ˜€

When I arrived with the sun there was just one site available.

When I arrived with the sun there was just one site available.

I secured my camp site early in the morning on Friday with the intention of staying the weekend, and I was surprised that the camping was basically full. I quickly learned it generally is so full that incoming travelers quickly grab every vacancy as departing campers make their exit. (The posted rules are ‘check out by 1 pm, check in begins at 4 pm’, but there is no actual gap between 1:00 pm-4:00 pm during which tent sites are actually vacant.)

Heading up the trail.

Heading up the trail.

I hadn’t planned to attempt the trail the first day, but the enticing coolness of the forest drew me in, and I found myself walking. The brochure describes the trail as a ‘continuous incline’ (it is) that is very steep in places (not an exaggeration) and recommends it only for fit, sure-footed hikers, in proper footwear (wise). I went anyway – great footwear, at least, and feeling prepared, if not ‘sure-footed’. lol

...Just keep walking...

…Just keep walking…

I took very few pictures on the trail. Many that I took didn’t turn out. I was amused to find one reminder of the trail difficulties turned out only too well…

The obstacle that stopped me reaching the Humbug Mountain view point.

The obstacle that stopped me reaching the Humbug Mountain viewpoint.

Life’s journey has obstacles and detours. Part of finding my way is making wise decisions regarding which to overcome, and which to walk away from. I was finding this small side trail enticing and lovely – and relatively easy, until I reached this point. It was clear that hikers had been scrambling around this (tree trunk? branch? snag? fallen-down-something-or-other-that-once-was-tree); in doing so, over time, the path itself had crumbled away. Looking things over, I couldn’t determine with the needed certainty that the bit of tree clinging there to the hillside would truly support my weight sufficiently well to swing over the gap to the other side… and honestly didn’t come prepared to splint a broken leg and drag myself to help from the forest floor below, so I turned back, reminding myself it hadn’t been my intention to hike the entire trail today, anyway. ย ๐Ÿ™‚

I returned to camp after hiking further up the main trail. It took me almost an hour to reach the 1/2 mile marker, and I contentedly headed back to camp. I’d taken some lovely trail pictures – many of which I didn’t yet know hadn’t turned out at all. I’d find that out after I returned home. lol But it isn’t about the pictures, is it? Life, I mean? It’s more about the living of each moment with exquisite awareness…and that doesn’t require a camera, at all. ๐Ÿ˜€

There are small things of great beauty surrounding us; we only need to look for them.

There are small things of great beauty surrounding us; we only need to look for them.

Moments to be savored don’t really need a camera. “Pictures or it didn’t happen”? That’s no real concern of mine.ย I don’t need to prove I live; I am living. ๐Ÿ™‚

Perspective comes in all shapes and sizes.

Perspective comes in all shapes and sizes.

I had come hoping to see the meteor shower, figuring the remote location and high elevation would work in my favor. I hadn’t counted on the dense forest. I found two likely locations for good viewing, though, the parking lot, and the mostly dis-used ‘day use area’ on the other side.

The best view of the sky I could find near camp.

The best view of the sky I could find near camp.

I contentedly checked out the somewhat haunted seeming “picnic area” that had fallen into disrepair. It was a rare bit of quiet off the beaten path, at least in those moments that I was fortunate to explore it all to myself. Searching for a specific picture, of a specific moment, I happily discovered that I’d paused syncing on my Dropbox, and ‘found’ quite a few pictures I thought hadn’t turned out. Nice moment. I smile, sip my coffee, and enjoy it.

Once upon a time...

Once upon a time…

I had found what seemed a likely place to watch the meteor shower, and a reasonably easy & safe walk in the dark (even with a headlamp or flashlight, anything up the trail would be too risky in the dark). I spent much of the afternoon in this strangely forgotten timeless place, content with the stillness and solitude, beyond the sounds of voices and automobiles.

Beautiful day for a picnic.

Beautiful day for a picnic.

I spent the day whiling away hours in meditation, wandering, breathing in the scents of summertime, and naming all the shades of green; it was a day well-spent.

How many shades of green are there?

How many shades of green are there?

The night passed less comfortably, and my astonishment at how discourteous and inconsiderate people can be was quickly exhausted. Weary travelers arriving past midnight, disappointed to find no obvious vacancies didn’t just turn around and drive on, instead they illuminated the night forest with high beams, certain that if only they had the light of day to work with, they’d surely see the tent site they need… The regular interruption ofย the darkness was accompanied by a soundtrack, too, the cacophony of loud voices, strident, frustrated, insistent – tired people wanting rest who did not plan to arrive “early enough” to secure a tent site didn’t generally put the onus of their failure on their own shoulders, and seemed to seek silent validation from the rest of us, by shouting their tale of woe to each other across the dark parking lot and into the trees. Quiet hours after 10 pm? The park was actually noisiest from 11 pm to well past 1 am.

On the one hand, I didn’t sleep. On the other hand, the periodic interruptions that woke me also ensured I was indeed awake between 1 am and 4 am, and enjoyed a decent view of the starry night sky, and got to observe the meteor shower for some little while, although the experience suffered for the regular arrival and departure of visitors seeking a place to lay their heads for the night (see my earlier remarks on discourtesy and inconsiderate decision-making).

Even a day later, I am more than a little bit irked by hike/camp travelers who arrive on site past darkness, unprepared, and making a crap ton of noise. Surely planning is a small investment to arrive at a destination in a timely fashion so as not to intrude on the pleasant experience of others? I’m pretty sure most people approach that from a ‘fuck you, your experience doesn’t matter to me’ position these days… that sure seemed to be the case from the perspective I had from site #9 at Saddle Mountain. That’s a trivial matter, and it’s behind me now… seeping into my awareness of other circumstances and experiences, and I hope that I will take it to heart, myself, and act such that while I am out in the world enjoying my experience, I’m not wrecking the pleasant experience others are having around me. A small amount of consideration goes a long way. ๐Ÿ™‚

I woke early yesterday, and dithered through my morning coffee… stay or go? Stay? Go. Stay. Go? One cup of coffee. Stay. Stay? No… go. Another cup of coffee. I’ll stay. It’s cooler up here. I’m not sleeping, though… I’ll go. Back and forth. I started heating water for oatmeal… and noticed I’d packed most of my gear in the car without really planning to in any specific way. (Trip to the rest room; take a bag to the car… Trip to get more water for coffee; take my hydration pack to the car…) Apparently, I had decided to return home – and the decision felt comfortable, natural, and relaxed. No pressure. No stress. I was ready to go home and didn’t need any other reason.

It was a lovely bit of time away, and I returned home with plenty to think over. Today is a good day for thinking thoughts, and preparing for the week ahead. ๐Ÿ™‚