Archives for posts with tag: it was only a dream

I woke up early this morning in too much pain to go back to sleep, the recollection of a lustful dream still fresh in my memory. I got up, dressed, and headed for the trailhead. I beat the first signs of sunrise.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

My allergies are pretty bad this morning, and before I put a boot on the trail I’ve used a half a pack of travel tissues. It’s annoying, and I’ve taken more allergy medication to deal with that mess. The sinus headache is doing its best to ruin my mood, but I successfully resist. I sigh to myself, resigned to a stuffy head today, and grateful to have allergy medicine at all. It could be worse, eh? Trees? Probably.

The weekend felt beautifully long, and a bit like a romantic weekend away from the world, although in most practical regards it was an ordinary enough weekend. Plenty got done, and more than that, the close connection between my Traveling Partner and I allowed us to share with a loving frankness and gentle words and be heard on some things we’d been cautious about sharing at all. It’s nice to have it like that, and it isn’t an accident of circumstance; we work at that amount of openness together. I smile as I walk, feeling warmed through by love.

I walk with my thoughts, wondering at how visceral and real dreams can feel, and how readily emotions surface, shifting with the context. I’m getting sufficiently deep sleep to dream vividly and with depth and detail, as if living another life. I easily slip into lucid dreaming (and I am grateful to have the ability to do so). I wasn’t having such rich and vivid dreams while the Anxious Adventurer lived here; a portion of my mind was generally wakeful and wary, vigilant even through sleep. I have missed my dreams. It was an annoyance, but knothing I could have asked of him would have changed that. It was a PTSD response to the presence of a stranger in my living space that only surfaced when I slept. My sleep is definitely healthier now.

I pause my writing to respond to my Traveling Partner’s morning greeting. We both seem pretty merry and upbeat, which is a lovely start to the day. I decide on working from my preferred co-working location instead of at home, at least for the morning, just to avoid being an uncomfortable nuisance distraction with my allergies while my beloved is working (or sipping coffee and enjoying a peaceful moment). I don’t really feel like dealing with him having to deal with my allergies. 😆 That’s love, too. We make it a practice to avoid vexing each other with bullshit when we can.

Daybreak comes and goes. I watch the sun rising from my halfway point as I write. There’s a mist clinging in low places and the morning is a chilly one, although I haven’t paid it any mind; I’m dressed appropriately for a warm afternoon, with a cardigan thrown on for warmth on a chilly Spring morning. Not my first early morning. 😆

My thoughts become a jumble of dream fragments, allergies, and musings about metaphors, inconsequential but perhaps useful as a means of processing shards and snippets of thoughts into something more useful for later? My dream still stands out in my thoughts, lingering the way very real-feeling dreams sometimes do. I sigh and get to my feet to finish my walk. It’s a chilly morning and I’m starting to feel it. It’s a good moment to begin again.

Restful night. Pleasant morning. Good walk down a familiar trail. I feel prepared for the day ahead, organized, calm, and comfortable in my body. It’s a good starting point for the (day and the) week.  The weekend was a good one, although nothing stands out as noteworthy; it was well-spent in the good company of my Traveling Partner. I got a few things done without exhausting myself.

The colors of morning.

A colorful sunrise greeted me as I reached the trailhead. The parking lot was empty (it generally is at this hour). I enjoyed the trail to myself and watched the sun rise as I walked. It’s a lovely Monday morning, two days before my birthday.

…There’s no significance to this particular birthday (61), and I have no particular plans. I’ve already received my birthday presents; my Traveling Partner loves making me smile and seeing my joy, and it’s hard for him to wait for the actual day. lol I don’t mind at all. I feel very loved.

I sit with the sunshine at my back, perched on a picnic table a short walk from the car, writing, thinking, and enjoying the start of this new day. We don’t know how many beautiful sunrises we may see in one mortal lifetime… I hope I have many more, and take time to appreciate them all!

…Monday…

…A lifetime goes by so quickly…

The season is beginning to be more summer than Spring. This morning I’ll begin watering the lawn and garden on a summer schedule. Working from home makes such things pretty easy to stick with. Last week I took some of my meetings (remotely) in the garden, and it was delightful. It also brought my attention to a couple tasks I’ve fallen behind on; I’d let the salad greens bolt, and the weeds are getting out of hand. I spent some weekend time putting things right. I brought in a noteworthy harvest of fresh peas.

…Time spent in the garden seems to run on a different clock…

An ordinary enough life, on a contented joyful Monday morning, feeling purposeful and prepared. This is an experience built over time. Built on carefully chosen practices, and principles of resilience, sufficiency, self-care, mindfulness, and non-attachment. I work at this, and my results vary. I’m for sure going to enjoy it when things are truly going well, and I am feeling good. Pain? Not relevant this morning, and it fades into the background as I enjoy the moment. (“This too will pass.” Change is.)

…So much of my day-to-day joy and contentment is built on steady practices and incremental change over time. It’s achievable. Reliable. There are verbs involved…but it is possible to get from “there” to “here” through those means. Start. Practice. Fail. Begin again. Repeat. Don’t take the required effort personally, just do the needful.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I feel the shadows of bad dreams in the night dissipate in the morning sunshine. I’m here, now, and it’s a lovely morning to begin again.

New day. New cup of coffee.

I woke abruptly, way too early for a day off, although it’s likely I got enough rest. I woke from peculiar bad dreams that felt a bit as if I were “having someone else’s nightmares”. I woke with a nasty headache, but otherwise not in much pain. Stiff. Cranky. Feeling a bit inclined toward keeping to myself until the fog of recent bad dreams dissipates.

It is a new day. An entirely new, fresh, day, as yet uncommitted to anything in particular. I’ll probably do the housekeeping I’d planned to do yesterday, and ended up blowing off in favor of a joyful relaxed day with my Traveling Partner. Later though; right now is time for coffee (and waking up).

It’s lovely to have a three day weekend. Memorial Day, though, weird “holiday”. More an “observance”, for me, than properly a holiday. A day to be reminded of the high cost of war. I sip my coffee and think about fallen comrades. I’m 57 next month, more of my comrades have fallen since the war than fell during the war. I lost touch with most of the survivors of our war when I left Facebook. I mean, I have their email addresses, though. I sip my coffee and think about emailing them. Maybe on Veteran’s day?

One day closer to moving. Still too far out to begin packing things into boxes (I may find them useful between now and then…?), but we’ll likely begin doing that next weekend. Plenty of time yet for planning, talking, sharing, thinking out loud about this or that feature in the new place… I enjoy it.

So… here it is, another day. Another opportunity to be the woman I most want to be. Damn I wish I weren’t so grumpy in the morning. :-\ I stare at my coffee. First cup. Maybe the second will ease this pounding headache? There’s a new episode of Rick & Morty to watch… could be a useful distraction from my bad dreams. The lingering fog of my dreams dissipates slowly this morning. There’s very little left besides the unease left behind (and the recollection of a shadowy figure staring into my window), but that’s not an ideal emotional context with which to begin the day. I breathe, exhale, relax, and let that go.

…It’s time to begin a new day. It’s time to begin again. 😀