Archives for posts with tag: meditation

…This is me, seated by a big window at my boarding gate in the terminal. My flight will board on time; it’s already parked at the gate, empty of passengers, and being stocked up for this journey. It’s been a long while since I have flown. 2016? I think so…

I’m generally not bad at waiting around, most particularly if the environment is relatively calm and quiet, more or less. I wasn’t always. Used to be that a long wait, especially if it were unexpected, or likely to throw off carefully made plans, would not just wreck my mood, it would even (and quickly) degrade my mental health. These days I am as likely as not to actually embrace waiting- it’s good “me time” snatched from busy circumstances, allowing me to catch up with my thoughts and reflect. Tonight is like that.

What did it take to make such a profound transformation? A lot of practice. Meditation. Breathing. Non-attachment. Letting small shit go. Self-reminders that it isn’t all about me.

Soon enough a new journey resumes. Soon enough I will begin again. For now, I wait.

I’m sipping an iced tea. I took part of the day off due to lack of sleep and waking up on the edge of a migraine, and struggling with pain somewhere around my sciatic nerve, between my spine and my hip. Uncomfortable. Tired. I was not up for a day of heavy cognitive workload, and would have been irritable and error-prone. No one needs that shit. Not me. Not my colleagues. Not my Traveling Partner. Light duty – just the essentials – and an early out made so much more sense.

The day is an odd one. Not “sunny” or “rainy” in any definite way – certainly a considerable portion of both, without a theme or pattern to grab hold of. Spring in the Pacific Northwest.

…Damn, my Traveling Partner makes a wicked good iced tea, I must say… πŸ˜€

I’m very fortunate. Not just for the iced tea, but for this life, this job, and this house in the suburban countryside on the edge of a large-ish small town. I sip my tea and think grateful appreciative thoughts, reflecting on the distance traveled in this one lifetime. I’ve certainly had it worse at other times in my life.

I think about “home” – and how very much at home I feel here in this place, secure and safe and wrapped in love; it’s not just a building. It’s not just a place I reside. It is “home”. It’s not perfect. It’s not spectacularly large or unusually luxurious (beyond those luxuries my skilled Traveling Partner has added to enhance our comfort, ease, and quality of life)… just a modest little house in a commonplace suburban neighborhood. Still home. Our home. My home. It’s comforting to feel so settled and secure, here. I yearned for this for so long… I’m grateful that it has more than met my (probably ludicrous) expectations of what “home” could be.

This morning there was an attractive earth-tone pottery planter half-filled with soil in a stand by the front door. It used to have my creeping thyme in it. That thyme has traveled with me awhile (one might say “a lifetime” lol), and it was a small sort of big deal to plant it into the front landscape, in the flower bed, on the other side of a favorite rose, near the large river rocks that used to be in my aquarium as dΓ©cor. Doing so left that planter mostly empty of soil, and definitely empty of obvious life. Today, I planted a geranium in it – one with showy leaves that will have merry orange and red flowers. I don’t think I’ve ever grown a geranium, before. It wasn’t that I disliked them, I just… never did. I’d thought to plant a begonia in that pot… but the plant I saw, that pleased me most in that moment was a geranium.

So here I am. Settled and at home, on a rainy-sunny day, sipping iced tea… smiling about a geranium in a pot by the front door. πŸ™‚ These are the sorts of things that make “home” more than an address. I mean… sure, I could have had a geranium in a pot on my patio at some other place/time… It’s not even about the geranium, itself. For sure it’s not about the pot. I’ve had plants in containers for a long while. It’s the choice. It’s the ability to plant into my garden, just anywhere I’d like, and know that it is mine, and will be mine tomorrow, and the day after that, and next year, and on into an unpredictable future. At least for some unmeasured while. That’s enough.

What matters most?

…This is good iced tea…

It’s time to begin again. πŸ™‚

Awake. Okay with it.

I woke thirsty. Drank water. My neck felt twisted and my shoulder felt cramped. I did the exercises from my recent physical therapy work.

My tinnitus is loud in this quiet. I listen to it. I listen to my heartbeat. I listen to my even, relaxed breathing. For a long while, it seemed like. I realize I am drifting in and out of my dreams. I am dreaming that I am awake. Realizing this wakes me – the sound of a single startled out loud laugh breaks the stillness.

I sit up, check the time and write these few words. I sit quietly for some little while…

I guess I am for sure sleepy enough to sleep, at this point… I suppose I’ll do that next.

I am awake in the wee hours. No stress, I am simply awake, for the moment. I crashed eary, hard, definitely expecting I might sleep through the night, though my Traveling Partner turns out to be correct; I woke up, a few hours later, and here I am. Awake in the quiet still hours before a new day begins.

Yesterday was strange. I think it was, good, though. That’s how I recall it. I spent the morning running errands. came home, settled down to relax… A spontaneous suggestion by my Traveling Partner put us headed up the highway to see something in person that disappointingly wasn’t there to see. I had suggested calling before we went… No harm done.

I got home honestly too tired to cook. We’d grabbed a snack on the road, anyway. I was also too tired to realize I was too tired. I completely set things up to make dinner…chopped things, mixed things, readied this-n-that for cooking. My partner noticed my efforts, and also my lack of real engagement; I was on autopilot, exhausted. He suggested having a fancier than usual lunch the following day, instead, if the preparations would keep…? I agreed, grateful for the help sorting things out, and unconcerned about things keeping or not.

…Lunch today will be yummy, and pretty easy; everything is ready, just needs to come out of the fridge beforehand. Convenient.

Sitting up, awake, for this little while, quietly, does not prepare me for the sneeze that catches me by surprise as a yawn overtakes me. Who knew sneezing and yawning are so thoroughly incompatible? lol The heat comes on, a soft whisper in the background that seems to encourage sleep… Yeah, I could go for more of that.

Another yawn. I wonder what tomorrow holds…

I woke abruptly, wide awake in the wee hours. Bad dreams, already unrecalled. I am okay with that. There is limited value in remembering nightmares.

I woke feeling parched and restless. I got up long enough to get a drink of water and attempted to return immediately to slumber. Yeaaaaaah… That’s not working out so far. lol

My head aches. My tinnitus is loud, chiming and ringing in my ears. I sit up to write for a few minutes, laptop dimmed, sipping on a glass of water. I am damp with sweat, whether left behind from my dreams or too many blankets I don’t know.

I would sleep if I could, but that won’t happen staring into the glow of a monitor. I will set this aside, meditate and focus on my breath, until sleep overtakes me once more. It’s time to begin again. πŸ™‚