I slept in, like, properly slept in, waking a couple hours later than I ordinarily would, feeling well rested, and ready for a new day. Being home feels good.
A familiar view from a favorite trail.
My legs ache. It’s just sore muscles, from recent days of more than usual walking. I mostly ignore it, and walk on. The blue skies of recent days have yielded to encroaching gray clouds gathering overhead. The air feels heavy with higher than typical humidity. I keep on walking, through oak groves and alongside meadows and vineyards. I pass by a creek, and lush dense weeds and wildflowers that grow along the banks, edged by trees. Farm workers in the vineyard eye me warily as I pass. I wave. They wave back. We have nothing to fear from each other. I continue walking.
It was an ordinary walk on an ordinary morning. I hope I have many such walks (and mornings) ahead of me. Gray skies or blue, the details matter less than my ability to walk on, and my freedom and opportunity to do so.
I sit quietly after my walk, on a convenient picnic table tucked among the oaks trees that line the beginning of this particular trail. It’s not remote or exotic, and lacks any sort of features that might attract crowds. It’s just a convenient local trail, well maintained, paved and mostly level, and even lit in some sections (which is nice for very early mornings before sunrise). It feels safe and familiar, and long enough to be satisfying (it’s about a mile and a half all the way around), but short enough to be quite manageable even when I’m having some difficulties. This trail is rarely crowded, which is a nice bonus.
My tinnitus is annoyingly loud in my ears. I do my best to focus on other things. I breathe, exhale, and relax. It is a pleasant morning and I am happy to be home. I remind myself to stop at the store on my way home, but can’t recall what I need to get. I chuckle to myself; I have an app for that. I probably rely on that too much.
I sigh contentedly, savoring this pleasant moment before I begin again. The clock is ticking on a new day. It’ll soon be time to begin again…
Where does this path lead? What will I see along the way?
Sometimes, regardless of your attempted attention to detail, your willingness to do more, better, your drive to improve and grow, or the hours of work and study you’ve put into being your best self, it won’t be enough (for someone, or for some circumstance). That’s frustrating (maddening), and real. It’s a harsh truth in life that while we’re walking our own hard mile one step at a time, someone else is also walking theirs, and conflict, confusion, or miscommunication can make just about any endeavor contentious and unpleasant. Humans being human. Some people are truly doing their best. Some people maybe not so much. It’s not really obvious which are which. There’s likely always going to be someone around who just doesn’t think you’re doing enough. There will be someone who thinks you’re doing it “wrong” (often simply because you’re not doing things the way they would). There may even be travelers along the way who earnestly hope to see you fail, though it will be rare for them to say so explicitly.
…We’re each having our own experience…
Points of view differ. Individual perspectives on shared events are sometimes at odds with each other. Personal values may not be shared. People are quite individual, and often we don’t even share the same understanding of the basic meanings of the most common words we use. Recollections of even the most recent events may be quite different among individuals who shared the experience. None of this makes communication easier, quite the contrary.
It can be helpful sometimes, I find, to be very open to the possibility that I’m incorrect. Mistaken. Flat out wrong. It’s helpful to really listen to what someone else is saying about their experience or perspective. This isn’t always easy; I may disagree. I may find my own thinking at odds with theirs. I may recall events quite differently. We may have different values, or place importance on different details. Being open enough to really listen and humble enough to accept that I could be wrong can make a lot of difference and create an emotionally safe environment to sort things out more easily. It takes practice (a lot), and I can’t honestly say I’m “good at it” (yet). I keep practicing.
All of this sounds good “on paper”, but it’s not “easy”, and it really does take a lot of practice, commitment, willingness to fail (and to begin again), and a steadfast refusal to take someone else’s emotions personally, and to refuse to internalize their frustration, anger, or criticism. Listen, yes. Hear them out, yes. Understand their point of view, yes. Be open and compassionate, yes. And refuse to allow their frustration, anger, or criticism to dictate “who you are”, nonetheless. Be the person you most want to be. Make room for them to be who they are, also. Becoming the best version of yourself, the person you most want to be, may bring you into conflict with people who are walking a very different path – their own path. Whatever you choose to do about that, it matters that you still live your values, take care of yourself, and treat people with kindness, compassion, and consideration.
…You’re probably going to fail, a lot…
Keep practicing. Savor the wins, however small. Learn from your mistakes, and avoid allowing them to bring you to despair. This shit isn’t easy, but it’s worthwhile. Change takes time. Time, practice, effort, commitment – and beginning again. Often. Sometimes it’s especially hard, like a barefooted walk on blistered feet down a gravel path. Sometimes it’s easy, like a firm level trail through a sun-dappled forest on a mild summer day. You’ll choose – sometimes poorly. You’ll face anger, frustration, disappointment, and grief. It’s not personal, just part of the human experience. Learn, grow, and walk on.
I sit sipping my coffee, re-reading these words. This one’s for me, from… me. I need the encouragement today, tomorrow, maybe always. It helps to reflect on what works, and to remind myself that it is a complicated journey. It is useful to consider missteps, and to learn and grow, and try again.
Keep walking.
Yesterday my sister messaged me to let me know a favorite aunt had died after a lingering illness. (COVID is still taking lives, people, be safe, be considerate, be vaccinated.) It seems like I’m now in a place in life when the losses come more frequently. We are mortal creatures. I will always remember my Aunt fondly. She opened her home to me more than once when I needed a place to heal. She was peculiar, and special, and interesting, and the first adult who would sit and talk with me for hours about all manner of things, into the wee hours of the morning. Some of who I am developed sitting by her kitchen table in Baltimore on summer evenings, talking about life, love, music, reality… I’ll miss her.
I breathe, exhale, and relax. I don’t know what’s around the next bend on this path. I don’t know how far this path goes, or where it may ultimately lead. I don’t know how long this mortal life will last, or how many moments of joy I can wring from it along the way, nor how many tears I may need to dry from my cheeks. It’s a very human journey.
Well, shit. I didn’t manage to fit 10 minutes into my work day for meditation, yesterday. It was a busy day, no doubt, but… couldn’t I have managed to make that work? Looking back, it’s clear I could have, and equally obvious I did not; I was there. lol
I’ll try again today. 🙂 Each journey has many steps.
I got home, and enjoyed a lovely relaxed evening with my Traveling Partner. Overlooked meditation, in favor of warmth and camaraderie. Shit. Damn it. LOL Clearly, I need more practice with my practice. 😀
Today is another day. I’m open to making it a good one – and that includes getting my regular meditation practice back on track. Totally doable. Entirely about choices, and actions. It’s well within my own power to meet this need for myself. 🙂
I’m just saying; I’m human. It’s a thing. “Perfect” isn’t on my bucket list as an achievable goal. I just keep practicing; we become what we practice.
I sip my coffee and contemplate the recent days of camping, and lessons learned.
Long, savored moments of golden light and blue sky linger in my memory.
One understanding that returned home with me is simply how little I truly need to feel content. My contentment is not built on a foundation of material goods, branded items to fill spaces, or a huge bank balance; it’s more about moments, experiences, and connection. Even in solitude, these are the things that matter most: relationships, presence, and people. The things and the stuff? All distractions, nothing more. Useful tools, at best. Very heavy baggage at worst.
I smile and look around me. How much of “all of this” do I really need? Less than I have – I know that with certainty, because I’ve lived with (and on) less. A lot less. No doubt I will one day do so again. The wheel turns, and this too shall pass. It’s not worth becoming attached to “stuff”. Comfort also has real value; being uncomfortable is unpleasant and stressful. It tests us. There’s a balance to strike. “Sufficiency” is the word I use for that balance – having enough, letting it be enough, valuing it for what it is (and nothing more) without striving or struggling, comfortable, and contented. It’s a nice goal; I can easily visualize what “sufficiency” looks like to me.
…Still. I could do better. I have room to improve. Room to struggle less. Room to let go of more baggage and bullshit. Room to be more present. Room to do my “best”, more skillfully, more often. Room to be more content, more of the time. Room to take greater care. Every new day is a “growth opportunity”, in a very real and personal way. The path stretches out ahead of me. I finish my coffee, thinking about the work day ahead, and giving thought to where 10 minutes of meditation may fit in, and what choices I can make to be more the woman I most want to be, to find balance, sufficiency, and contentment, and to be present in all my relationships with my whole heart. Years of experience, still practicing. lol
Evening Light 