Archives for posts with tag: joy

I slept well enough, I suppose. Restless. Probably excited to face the new day; no work, a beautiful drive through the countryside, a couple days painting on the coast. It’s worth being excited about, and a worthy prelude to the holiday season. In the wee hours, my restlessness increased; I think my Traveling Partner was also struggling to find sound sleep. The night eventually passed.

I woke, gathered the last couple of things to be packed for the trip. Read a note from my partner asking me to mail a package he’d previously said could wait. S’ok. I half-expected it, anyway. I had a box ready and the item (and box) was added to the things I’d take along with me. The morning feels effortless and if not thoroughly joyful, quite delightfully serene.

I got going, put gas in the car, got coffee and headed for my current favorite local trail to get my walk before the drive. I fell recently, and I’m okay but wanted to be on the safe side walking in the predawn darkness. This trail is asphalt paved, gently lit much of the way, and quite level. A good choice. Walking before the drive puts the drive well after daybreak too. Better driving conditions, better view of the autumn scenery.

There’s a picnic table at my halfway point. I stop to sit for a few minutes, enjoying the scents of autumn and the starry night sky. There’s a mist in the low spots near the creek and a hint of fog. The morning is so quiet. My breath makes steam. The morning is not quite freezing, but definitely chilly. I take off my gloves to write a few words, grateful to have remembered to wear them.

There’s a construction site not too far away. I sigh to myself as workers begin arriving, their brightly lit noisy pickups coming around a bend in the road nearby. The headlights mess with my vision in the darkness. Oh well. I sigh again. It’s chilly. I should get going before I feel the cold anyway. Besides… it’s time to begin again. 😀

I’m sitting at the trailhead listening to the rain drumming on the moon roof of the car. I can see clear skies here and there in spite of the rain and the predawn darkness, so I’m expecting this to be a passing shower and hope to wait it out before I hit the trail. I enjoy the sound of it, and for the moment I can imagine life without my tinnitus.

The drive this morning was delightful. There was no traffic. I don’t mean to say there were very few cars on the road, which is generally quite pleasant. It was better than that. I had the highway entirely to myself, aside from one car going in the opposite direction. The soaking rain storms in the night left the highway glistening. Autumn leaves clung damply where they fell. A sliver of moon peeked from between pearly puffs of clouds scattered across the night sky. It was quite wonderful. Still is, as I sit here waiting for a break in the rain and enough light to safely walk the trail. Even now, there’s very little traffic passing by on the nearby highway, and no one else here in the parking lot of the nature park. Lovely quiet solitary moment, and I sit within it, joyful and at ease.

… For a few joyful moments my background stress recedes to nothing and I am truly content, joyful, and calm…

I haven’t been sleeping well. Last night was unexceptional in that regard. It’s a combination of work stress (very busy time), life stress (my Traveling Partner is going through a lot and it requires much from me to support everything he needs), and election stress. I admit it, I’m really struggling with that last one. I so earnestly want to believe that we’re smart enough and have learned enough, not to put a treasonous, dishonest, mentally impaired, lying, misogynist, rapist, fraudster back into the oval office, and that surely – if nothing else – Americans don’t hate women enough to put us through that? But I honestly don’t know. Is misogyny still so prevalent that we’ll use any excuse to avoid electing a highly competent woman – even if it means putting the nation in the hands of an old man so clearly in the throes of serious mental decline? Scary. So very very scary. It’s actually wrecking my sleep, I am that worried about it.

I sigh. I’m so grateful for this quiet moment of real joy dropped unexpectedly into this stressful time. I really need all the joy I can find right now. The smallest moment of delight is worthy of my attention.

I sit with my thoughts. I am thinking about love, and how much it matters to me. I am thinking about my Traveling Partner, frustrated by the slow progress of his recovery, and wondering how I can be more encouraging, a better partner, and what other things I could do to be helpful. Recovering from an injury and surgery is hard, and demands a lot. I sometimes worry I’m failing to do my part to foster a hope-filled and uplifting environment in which recovery feels inevitable. I’d definitely like him to have that feeling. Caregiving is complicated and I still have so much to learn.

… I find so much joy in this relationship. I’m glad we’re “sharing the journey”…

The rain stops, then starts. It’s still quite early. I smile to myself. I’m okay right now. This is a delightful moment. I accept it as it is, and savor the experience. It’s enough, at least for now. Later, I’ll walk the trail, and run some errands on my way home… And begin again.

Another lovely morning. I got through yesterday’s stressors and chaos with a bit of grace, and a lot of practice. There are no shortcuts, no magical cures “experts don’t want you to know about”, no means to an end that don’t require real effort… It’s all work and effort, and will, and practice. A lot of practice. My results vary. I make a point to appreciate the wins and celebrate moments of joy.

I’m grateful to see another sunrise.

I enjoyed my morning walk, and having the trail entirely to myself was a pleasant luxury. I slept well, and I feel good (aside from the usual amount of pain in the background, which I am mostly able to ignore so far). The fresh air fills my lungs and each breath feels truly life-giving in an interesting way. I think about love, as I walk, and when I stop for a moment to rest or take a picture.

“Hang in there,” my Traveling Partner’s doctor said yesterday, reassuring him that the healing process was going well, although uncomfortable (and yeah, painful sometimes). It felt like a long damned day to get to that moment. I felt pretty helpless and ineffective a lot of the time, but I did a good day’s work, and managed to “be there” for my partner when he needed me, even if only to provide comfort and love. I guess those things matter, too.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. Another day, another opportunity to begin again, to do better, to be my best self, to be a good friend, lover, and partner. To be. Awake and aware and filled with wonder. I take a moment to appreciate how far my journey has taken me. How far I have gone down this path. Content, mostly. Joyful, often. Even happy sometimes – more often than I ever understood could be possible. I’m fortunate. I’ve got a lot to be thankful for. I sit with that thought awhile, just enjoying the mild summer morning for a few minutes before the work day begins.

It’s a good moment.

… Time to begin again…

Pretty morning. Splendid sunrise. I slept well, and with no regrets I slept without my sleep tracker on my wrist. Did that change the quality of my sleep? Maybe. Maybe not. But… Maybe.

The first sunrise of summer.

Without regard to sleep quality, I’d be giving up the sleep tracker anyway; my wearable is no longer supported by the manufacturer, and the new phone I’ve just moved into isn’t the same brand and “doesn’t play nicely” with my old wearable. Totally fine, I think I am effectively done with trying to capture all that biometric data. It was initially useful and sometimes eye-opening, but that hasn’t been the case for a while, and the device itself just tethers me to my phone, and pings me fucking constantly. Over it.

Father’s Day got my Traveling Partner and I talking about watches, time, and time pieces, after I gifted him a modest field watch for everyday wear.

Practical and basic.

I guess I’ve missed wearing a watch. 😆 I gave that up years ago, before I ever began wearing a connected device, (because I had such an unhealthy and stressful relationship with time). That was so very long ago that it’s just not a thing anymore, even to the slightest degree. I don’t have panic attacks over being a couple minutes late. I don’t freak out if someone else creates conditions that throw carefully timed plans into chaos. (Hell, I rarely make “carefully timed plans” with the sort of inflexible precision that they could so easily be wrecked by timing, at all.)

So… I’m contentedly re-embracing wearing a watch. It’s not as if that’s super necessary, either. My phone is almost always very nearby, and I can easily check the time. I like the look of a watch. Elegant or practical. Fancy or plain. There’s something amazing about a watch. Such a finely crafted tiny piece of machinery capable of so much precision! Impressive among human achievements in the way bound books, libraries, and printing presses are impressive. These things are among our best human achievements.

Fancy and fun.

I have a lovely fun watch my Traveling Partner gifted me. It’s pretty, and a bit fancy for everyday. I enjoy wearing it (even more lately), but it isn’t quite the right choice for everyday wear. We’ve spent fun hours this week talking about watches and casually shopping together for watches we might like to own, and getting to know this facet of each other’s personal style. Selecting a watch is every bit as intimate as lingerie. It’s been an extraordinary way to connect and be close. Fun.

… The clock is always ticking…

I sit with happy thoughts, early on a Friday morning. The Solstice was yesterday. Ordinary enough day. I worked.  It was quite a hot day for the first day of summer. Fitting. Today is likely to be similarly hot. I’m okay with it – and grateful to have AC.

I sit thinking about time, and watches, and watching time. In some upcoming future moment, I will begin again… in the meantime, it’s enough to be here, now. Watching the sun rise on a summer morning, unconcerned about the time.

I’m sipping coffee and taking a moment after my morning walk. I’ll head to work, next, but this quiet interlude is mine. I’m sitting quietly, looking out into the view beyond and contemplating how I might capture this view in acrylic, in watercolor, in oil, or in a wholly new medium for me – in pastels.

Light and shadow, and an ordinary view.

I am content to sit here with my thoughts, even for hours. This is a pleasant moment.

I’ve tidied up my studio such that I can actually make use of it. Along the way I found an old cigar box with an unexpected treasure within – two small sets of pastels, an assortment of neon colors and an assortment of iridescent colors, looking very much unused since whenever they were purchased. I don’t recall buying them. The shoebox itself is one that one of my parents had used to send me something… sometime around 1995? Older? Old, for sure.

A fun surprise.

I continue to feel inspired by the thought of exploring a new medium, artistically. I picked up a selection of good quality pastels at the local art store, and some appropriate paper, and ordered some woodless colored pencils and pastel pencils. A small price to pay for the joy and growth yet to come.

Colors. Joy in a box.

For a moment, I feel impatient to begin, then chuckle at my human foolishness, because I have already begun! This moment, right here, now, is part of the experience. I smile and breathe it in. Inspiration. Joy. Enthusiasm. Eagerness. Delight. Wonder. It’s quite delicious and I am grateful to enjoy this moment.

I take time to really savor this pleasant moment, and to really “fill my cup” with this quiet joy.

The sun continues to rise. The clock continues to tick. It’s already time to begin again. I’m ready.