Archives for posts with tag: meditation

In spite of it having rained through the night, this picnic table I’m sitting on had a dry spot pretty much just the right size to comfortably sit for a few minutes. I can see the full moon peeking from the clouds as they drift past, under this natural awning of evergreen boughs. Nice spot to sit awhile in the pre-dawn darkness. I turn off my headlamp and enjoy the quiet moment. Somewhere in the distance I hear traffic, and the sound of human endeavors.

“Enjoy it while you can.” I think to myself. The world is messy and complicated and frankly a little scary. Talk of curtailing banking regulations that explicitly protect consumers and the potential withdrawal of approval of the fucking polio vaccine just terrify me. (Why would anyone even want these kinds of terrible changes?!) Not gonna lie – these are trying times, and I feel it. I make a point to take time to sit, to reflect on the things in life that matter and bring me joy, and to feel gratitude for the many advances humanity has made. The risks and problems that plague us all too often get all the attention.

… It’s important to give myself a break from all that…

I grin in the darkness, swinging my feet like an excited child when I think about Giftmas. The holiday is almost here! The shopping is done. Presents are wrapped and waiting under the tree. I’m eager to share that joy with my Traveling Partner. It’s good to see his progress as he continues to recover from his injury and subsequent surgery. I find myself “missing the man that he was” much less often, because I find him standing beside me once again so much more often, now. Feels good. Feels safe and encouraging. I fucking love this man, and he has become part of me. I’ve been tremendously worried for the past year, and it feels good to finally feel some relief from my fear and worry, and to feel truly hopeful again.

The moon appears again, fat and round and luminous, as if to say “I see you”. A spattering of raindrops fall from the branches overhead, shaken loose by the breeze. My heart feels full of goodness and hope and gratitude, and it’s a lovely feeling to start the day with. I glance at the time. It’s a work day. Time to get back on the path and head back to the car. Time to begin again.

I don’t see the full moon until I reach the trailhead. It peeks out from between stormy clouds. The wind blows ferociously and the clock on my microwave alerted me this morning that at some point during the night the power had been out; the time was no longer set. The wind howls through bare trees, sounding a lot like winter, but the temperature is balmy, mild, and feels almost warm. Everything is soggy and a smattering of raindrops continues to fall. I sit contentedly on the hood of my car for a few minutes, boots on, cane beside me, ready to walk a couple miles along the edge of the marsh before the sun rises, trail faintly illuminated by the full moon.

… This? Right here, now? Excellent moment.

Stormy morning, full moon.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s a Saturday morning, and I’m in no hurry. I’ve got the park and trail to myself, and that beautiful moon overhead. No reason to rush – and all the best reasons to savor this moment and be fully present in it. I take a few minutes to write some words; this is worth remembering, reinforcing, and reflecting upon, it’s that good.

The sprinkle of rain stops. It’s time to begin again.

The trailhead parking is thankfully empty today. My “extra headache” has abated (but my Traveling Partner and the Anxious Adventurer now seem to have it, so maybe some kind of illness going around). The rain has been quite light and intermittent. I swap my shoes for my hiking boots, expecting to get a walk in before work this morning.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. My neck aches ferociously and my tinnitus is quite loud this morning. Typical physical bullshit I deal with daily, and this morning I don’t let it wreck my mood. I am feeling the holiday spirit this year, more than some years. I enjoy the excitement and feeling of being “lifted up”. It’ll no doubt pass; most emotional experiences are very temporary. I’m okay with that. I’m enjoying it now, and listening to the rain fall. I’ve got holiday carols stuck in my head and just now realized I haven’t sent cards! LOL

… I guess I’ll do that this weekend…

It’s a nice morning for beginnings. I listen to the traffic rolling by on the wet highway. The rain has stopped, at least for now, and it’s definitely time to begin again. I grab my cane and my headlamp and get on with it.

I sit quietly with my coffee. A steady light rain is falling. My tinnitus is loud in my ears and my mind wanders, unsettled and restless. I’m fine, for all describable commonplace values of “fine”. There’s nothing amiss. I’m tired perhaps, having wakened to the final full brightness of my sunrise alarm this morning, pulled from a very involved surreal dream that involved a large elegant home, a handful of friends, and a colony of guinea pigs.

I reached the trailhead during a break in the rain. My walk did nothing to improve upon my strange distractedness, but it was pleasant and that’s enough.

Rainy morning, another beginning.

I returned to the car just as the rain began falling again. I sit listening to it contentedly, warm and dry, enjoying my coffee. I’m grateful for insulated travel mugs (definitely a technological win). I’ve got an errand to run before I head home, and my Traveling Partner slept poorly during the night. I’m in no hurry, and he’ll benefit from some quiet time for sleeping before I get home and start on the housework.

It’s another ordinary enough day, just beginning. I breathe, exhale, and relax. There’s nothing much to comment on that hasn’t been said before. There are practices to practice. Results that will vary. Moments to enjoy. A path to walk. I watch daybreak slowly become dawn, then daylight. I take time to meditate and to reflect. Perspective is useful. The sound of the rain falling is peaceful. Yesterday was lovely, and busy, and I am tired in spite of a good night’s sleep. There’s much to do today in spite of fatigue. I’ve got a list. lol I think for a moment, looking over my list… and move “self-care” to the top.

It’s time to begin again.

Small things matter. Small details of our circumstances can make big differences in our experiences. Small choices that seem inconsequential in the moment can result in important changes that have lasting effect. Small gifts sometimes feel so much more intentional and heartfelt. Small things matter.

This year’s new Giftmas ornament, an unexpected little gift from my Traveling Partner.

Yesterday I was in too much pain to manage it easily. I did “all the things” and didn’t get much relief. By the end of the day just about everything was getting on my nerves on this whole completely intolerable level, and I could feel how short my fuse was getting over things that were… small. I made the choice to go to bed early, figuring I could just chill and read, and maybe rest a bit, even feel some better perhaps, rather than eventually lashing out at my beloved Traveling Partner or the Anxious Adventurer over some dumb shit that wasn’t personal, or even problematic. (I can’t even describe how painfully annoying the sound of a sauce being mixed in a small glass bowl happened to be, it was awful – and really really dumb to affect me that way.) It was a small choice – but a good one. I didn’t read long; I was exhausted from the pain I’d been managing all day, and quickly fell asleep.

I woke during the night “for no reason” – and annoyed about it when I could not easily get back to sleep. I checked the time. No anxiety, just curious, and saw that about 12 minutes earlier my beloved had sent me a message (also wakeful in the night). There was some sound outside keeping me awake, I finally noticed it. A hum? A whine? A train on siding somewhere not too nearby, but close enough to disturb my rest? A loud HVAC unit? Was it even a real sound, or just my tinnitus? My partner was awake, too, restless and uncomfortable. We quietly commiserated, and finally went back to sleep. It was a tender shared moment, no agita or aggravation. I appreciated the comfort of knowing he was there, sympathetic and caring. (I fucking love that guy.) Small moment, but it really mattered.

I made a small change to my routine, knowing I needed to get some good rest, and reset my alarm for a later time than I’d usually choose. Too late to get a walk in. That’s fine. I woke to my artificial sunrise at 05:00, from a sound sleep. I started my day in the usual way, otherwise, and headed straight to the office after making coffee for my Traveling Partner and putting out a breakfast snack for him. I know how much those small things matter to him.

…Small things matter…

Sometimes it feels like everything is huge, urgent, overwhelming, or “the next big deal”, but the small things really do matter. Little things like an unexpected “thank you”, or a moment of consideration, or a helping hand when you thought you might have to go it alone can really change how life feels. Consider being that for someone – today. That small thing could matter so much. This is a time of year that can be really hard on people, and we never really know what someone else is going through. So often “doing our best” includes wearing a mask or putting a good face on a serious hardship. We can each make a difference for the people around us by doing our best, sure, and being kind and considerate, yes – but also? Small things. Little things. Doing something just a little bit extra or out of the ordinary in some moment can mean so much – and it costs so little of our time or attention! What else is nice about this is that it can feel so amazing to do something for someone!

…Do little things for you, too; you matter. Take that moment. Explore that opportunity. Investigate that interest. Indulge your curiosity. Give yourself a moment of your own time and attention. Practice good self-care. Breathe.

All of it matters, doesn’t it? At least a little bit? Choose wisely – our lives are built on the choices we make. The journey is the destination. We become what we practice. (Good news, though? If you were a giant jack ass yesterday? You can begin again, and do better today.)

I sip my coffee and smile. I feel okay right now. It’s a good morning. A good moment. A nice opportunity to begin again, aware that the little things matter.