Archives for posts with tag: meditation

My morning has had a difficult beginning. I dislike driving while crying, and it frankly isn’t safe. I’m doing my best in this moment to put the difficult start to the day behind me, and maybe figure out a new beginning, or some kind of reset to turn things around. For the moment, I’m very human, and seem to be mostly made of tears and disappointment, which is annoying (and predictably temporary).

Stop. Breathe. Begin again.

This morning’s sunrise was lovely, I guess. I didn’t really see it with my eyes and my whole attention; I was mired in emotional bullshit and the sorrows and drama of humans being human. This morning that whole mess sources within my own home and relationships, so no opportunity to wax philosophically about perspective and blah blah blah – just this personal struggle to deal with it as skillfully as I am able, which, right now, seems like “not very”.

…I’m pretty reliably saddened and hurt by my Traveling Partner being angry with me, and even more so when it seems like something I have little control over at all ( in this case, his allergies) as with this morning…

Emotion and reason; it’s a complicated balance.

I sigh quietly, and try to get my tears under control because it is a work day, and I have meetings to attend like “a proper grown-up”. (It’s hard to care, frankly; these tears, and my partner’s feelings, matter so much more in this moment, and that is the truth of emotion and reason; emotion matters more.) It sucks that my Traveling Partner woke choking with allergies and struggling to breathe. I wish I knew how to help with that in some truly effective way. Subjectively, I feel that I’m doing all I can, already. If I knew more to do, I’d do it. Every time the thought of his discomfort, and his subsequent angry words as I left for work, surfaces in my consciousness again the tears well up. Not helpful. I reflect on the unpleasant moment we shared. I could have done things differently. Feeling provoked to anger, myself, by “the unfairness of it all” on top of his angry words led to me leaving the house angry and crying, and to slamming the door on my way out. Childish and neither helpful nor necessary. I feel foolish over my loss of patience and kindness. I could definitely have done better. I don’t respond well to angry words or raised voices, most especially when I’ve just woken up. I don’t say that to excuse bad behavior – there is no real excuse – I’m just putting things in context and working to cut myself (and my Traveling Partner) some slack. Emotions are sometimes difficult to manage skillfully (for anyone), and this is true whether I’m being snarled at first thing in the morning, or whether my partner is struggling to breathe, and as a result short-tempered and easily provoked, himself. It all just sucks very much.

…I miss living alone sometimes, it seems “easier” (for some values of “easy”, under some circumstances)…

A bumblebee and a rose; they need each other.

The tears come and go. I’d rather not deal with this shit all day, but if I’m going to get past it, I’ll have to do the work to restore my lost perspective, myself. My Traveling Partner’s anger reliably hurts so much. Fuck, I hope he’s able to get his breath back – more than anything else, I want him to be comfortable and content and able to do the things he wants to do, whether that’s work or rest or whatever. Fuck my feelings! In context they are not the bigger deal. In spite of my tears and hurt feelings, I wish him only well, and suddenly I find myself wondering if I should have stayed? Did he need to go to the ER? I reacted to his frustration and anger so quickly, that I didn’t take time to assess the situation with greater care. I feel a little ashamed by that, then recall the messages he DM’d me after I’d left the house. I guess if he had needed to go to the ER, he’d have said something then.

Work. Shit. I struggle with regaining perspective on the day and getting my head into my work. Very human. The emotions “matter” more, at least for now. I breathe, and try to let the morning’s difficult beginning fall away, to focus on work. I’ll get there at some point. For now it’s hard, and I keep practicing. My head is stuffy from crying, making it tougher to breathe, and I’m reminded of what my Traveling Partner was – may still be – going through, himself. I wish I could help, somehow. My coffee is insipid, and my head aches. My tinnitus is loud in my ears. My eyes feel puffy. I sigh again, and keep working on “pulling myself together”. I hope my partner is doing better than I am, right now. What a shitty start to the day, for both of us.

…”This too will pass”, I remind myself…

“Orange Honey” – just a picture of a lovely rose blooming in my garden. I try to distract myself from the moment, to begin again.

It sometimes takes more work than I expect, to be the person I most want to be. My temper sometimes catches me by surprise. I can do better. I need more practice, I guess. Certainly there’s no point taking my Traveling Partner’s anger over struggling to breathe “personally” – we all need to be able to breathe, and being deprived of that ability is (from my limited experience) quite terrifying. It’s a short step to anger from there. I’m also certain that in a more rational moment (when he can breathe comfortably), he likely wouldn’t put the blame for his allergies on me personally, and recognizes that I would not ever deliberately do anything that could prevent him from breathing – at least, I hope so. I wish I could do more to bring him comfort and ease his suffering, though. Right now, I mean. I’m vexed by feeling so helpless.

I sigh again. I’m glad I have the office to myself at this hour; no one sees me crying. I have a chance to get my shit together and my emotions under control. There’s work to do, and a full calendar of meetings. My results may vary, but it is definitely time to begin again. I begin with gratitude; it’s hard to hold onto anger when I feel grateful, and I am grateful (very) for the many things my Traveling Partner does for me (and us). Just looking around at my desk, there are so many signs of his affection… this is not “hopeless”, it’s just a moment. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I can only do my best, and the path isn’t always an easy one, but it is mine. I have choices. I can begin again like a sunrise on a new day – it’s enough. We become what we practice.

I’m sitting at the edge of the meadow along a favorite trail. It’s a Sunday morning. I slept in a bit and by the time I arrived here, the sun was well up. I’m trying to organize my thoughts regarding dinner much later, and go over my list of housekeeping tasks I’d like to get through, today (just basic stuff, nothing overly demanding or complicated).

A place, a moment, a feeling.

Yesterday was weird. I was so tired and sleepy. I went home, ran an errand for my Traveling Partner, and then crashed out for a nap. I slept deeply for four hours. I more or less slept the entire day away. 😂 I must have needed the rest. I had no trouble sleeping last night. I feel fine this morning.

It’s a lovely morning. Suitable for beginnings. The neighbors were partying late into the night. They’re generally pretty quiet, so we shrugged it off, though much later I thought I heard my partner calling to them out the window. I couldn’t rouse myself enough to ask. I managed to wake feeling quite rested in spite of the noisy night.

Grateful for the mild summer morning.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. From this beautiful place, it’s hard to imagine that life is ever difficult, but sometimes it is. Perspective is helpful, so is having a break. I smile thinking about my upcoming camping trip next weekend. I hope the weather is pleasant and mild like it has been this weekend.

It is a pleasant summer Sunday, well-suited to beginning again. I should get on that; the clock is ticking.

Stormy clouds to the west, and to the north. The rising sun illuminates the oaks and the meadow grass. Morning. I slept well and deeply and somehow still woke feeling so sleepy… Even now, I feel pretty sure I could just go back to bed.

A new day

I yawn and walk down the trail, as much out of habit as from any particular interest. I’d rather be napping. lol How am I so tired?

The stormy looking clouds get darker and stormier looking. I yawn. I’ve got an appointment later. I’m grateful; it’s the one treatment that really helps my headache. I want to be looking forward to that, but I’m pretty stuck on the awareness of fatigue and sleepiness. I yawn so hard my eyes water and the tears roll down my cheeks. I get to my halfway point, eventually, wishing I could just lay down and sleep for a few minutes.

No idea why I am so sleepy… I didn’t set an alarm. I woke when I woke, even slept in almost an hour, and went to bed pretty early. Another yawn. I sit staring numbly at the stormy sky. Nothing to do about it. I watch the clouds. Write a bit. Yawn again.

Eventually I’ll get to my feet and trudge back up the trail to the car, and head to my appointment. Eventually, I’ll begin again. Some days it’s harder than others. Some days I’m tired and walking feels like real work. Very human. I’m not even complaining, not really, just a little vexed and a bit mystified. And tired. So tired. That’s okay; it’ll pass.

I get to my feet, and walk on in spite of my fatigue.

Oh. Wait… No sponsor, here. No advertiser (unless forced on you by the app, and if so, my apologies cuz that truly sucks). No AI used in writing this post. No monetization. (I don’t make money off of this writing, and money isn’t the point.)

… Welcome…

Sunrise

It is a Friday. An ordinary enough work day. The days are getting shorter, enough to notice the change in the timing of the sunrise. I set off down the trail feeling a certain settled contentment that I yearned for, for so long. It’s a lovely warm feeling a little like love, focused on just this moment right here. I breathe the summer air deeply, tasting the scents of meadow and wildflowers. I watch the robins scratching in the grass alongside the trail ahead. I think about the day ahead of me and the weekend just beyond. I keep walking.

When I get to my halfway point, I pause to meditate as the sun rises, and to write a bit. I sit with my thoughts trying to recall something I thought I’d write about, but it eludes me now.

I sit quietly with my feeling of contentment and soft joy. Nice moment, in spite of physical pain competing for my attention. Fuck pain, though. I breathe, exhale, and relax, doing my best to distract myself. It’s quite early and my meds aren’t yet doing their thing in full measure. Soon. It’ll be some better, soon.

The work day ahead feels uncomplicated, necessary, and appropriately limited by time. I think about maybe baking brownies and remind myself to pick up chicken for dinner, later. It’s an utterly ordinary day in a very average and largely unremarkable life – or so it seems to me. I’m okay with that. I don’t need something spectacular and extraordinary out of my day-to-day experience. Enough is enough in every practical way.

“Enough” is a matter of perspective.

I sigh to myself watching the sky change colors with the rising sun. Soon enough I’ll begin again, but for now, right here is fine. I’ll sit here on this picnic table and enjoy it awhile before I walk on.

It’s a lovely morning on the trail. The sun is up, shining golden and filling the tree tops with light. The air is cool and hints at fall ahead. Summer scents of mown meadows and blooming flowers fill the still air. The distant hills are hazy; it’s wildfire season. I pause to sit and meditate as the morning becomes a new day. It is a lovely practice.

Sunlight and oak trees

“Nothing to see here.” I have the trail to myself, this morning. I enjoy that as the pleasant luxury that it is. I don’t own this land. I don’t have any claim on this place at this time. It is a public trail available for anyone who chooses to use it. It’s nice to have it to myself, and quite rare this time of year.

There’s a work day ahead, but it’s not yet time for that. This is time for me. Pleasant solitary minutes for walking and reflecting, for thinking and for meditating, and for snapping the occasional photograph of sunlight in the trees, or wildflowers, small birds, or the rising sun.

The sunrise, as I arrived.

I watch small yellow birds land on weedy stems alongside the path. They chirp together, nibbling at the seeds drying there after the flowers have faded and fallen.

A small yellow bird holds still for a picture.

Lovely moment. Lovely morning. I’ll work from home today, a nice break from commuting to the office. I am grateful to have the choice. I sit watching the little birds flutter among the weeds. There are several now. They ignore me and go about the business of the day.

…Each moment is so precious…

What are you cultivating? What are you working towards as a human being? Are you the person you most want to be? What steps are you taking to get there? What practices are you practicing? We become what we practice, so those choices really matter. Choose wisely.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. The morning chill contrasts with the warmth of the sunshine on my bare arms. I sigh contentedly. It’s a great beginning to a new day, for me, here, now. Your results may vary. You’re having your own experience – make the choices that will make it a good one, if you can. It’s worth making that effort.

… The journey is the destination…

I get to my feet to head back. It’s already time to begin again.