Archives for posts with tag: meditation

I’m sitting at a favorite trailhead, listening to the quiet of these predawn moments, and waiting for daybreak to illuminate the trail enough to walk without a flashlight. It’s the last day of the year.

An occasional car passes as I wait for the sun.

This nature park is only open from dawn to dusk, but there’s also parking near the gate. I wait to hear the quiet “clang!” of the gate opening, which reliably occurs just at daybreak. There are a couple other “regulars” who turn up to walk or take pictures as early as I often do, but this morning it’s just me. I’m okay with that; I’m not here to make conversation. None of the early morning people are. lol

2023 is over. What a year. So many lives lost to conflict or genocide. Humanity can be so terribly disappointing. The amount of violence and trauma left behind by 2023 would be shocking if we weren’t all so numb. I sit quietly, in solemn reflection and acknowledgement; we’ve got to do better if we’re going to survive ourselves at all.

2024 is just about here… I think about the year behind me. The challenges. The successes. The failures. The unrecognized opportunities. The missteps and course corrections. Work. Life. Love. Change. I consider how fortunate I am to enjoy the relationship I have with my Traveling Partner. I reflect on my current job and how much I enjoy it… And how little my enjoyment of my work ultimately actually matters, inasmuch as it has very little correlation with my longevity in a given role, at all. I think about the books I’ve read this year and the books I hope to read in the year ahead. I think about how wretched and poisonous corporate greed is, and the way it taints just every-fucking-thing. I think about hearth and home, and how much difference love makes, day-to-day. I reflect on how fortunate I am to have this life and another year to live it.

One more walk in 2023.

It’s daybreak and I can see the trail. I take a moment to move the car past the gate into the parking lot.

I sigh. Finish my coffee and lace up my hiking boots. It’s time to begin again.

It’s early. Pre-dawn. I’m waiting for daybreak at a favorite nearby trailhead on a drizzly chilly-but-not-cold Winter morning, on a Saturday morning, a day before this year ends. I enjoy walking as a metaphor for forward progress, for momentum, and for pursuing a path. Good morning for it. It’s even seeming very likely that the rain may hold off long enough to get a proper walk in without returning home quite sodden and chilled, which is a nice bonus this morning. I’d be here, now, even if conditions were colder and wetter, but I am glad the weather is relatively mild.

I rub my eyes and sip the iced coffee I picked up as I headed up the road to this place. Good morning for that too; I’d hoped to sleep quite a bit later, and I am tired. So tired. I suppose I could nap in the car until the sun peaks over the horizon… but… I’d miss watching the sunrise. lol I do enjoy a sunrise. Another beautiful living metaphor, a sunrise speaks to me of change and renewal and new beginnings, and I enjoy each one I am so fortunate to see.

… Fuck… I could be sleeping right now, though… only I’m not. Nothing much to be done about that, however , so I make the best use I can of these precious minutes of mortal lifetime to do something nice for/with myself. That’s how I find myself here on this trailhead so many mornings, waiting for the sun. I’m okay with it. I’ve waited on the sunrise for far worse reasons in this life.

This iced coffee is very good. The barista did a great job pulling the shots for it. “Shaken espresso”, but without anything to flavor or sweeten it, and no milk or cream, just coffee and ice. On a colder morning this wouldn’t be an ideal choice, because I’d want to be able to warm my hands with the cup. lol This morning it’s 48°F, and an iced coffee seems fine. I sip it contentedly, as the waning moon overhead perks through the clouds and a gentle rain spatters the moon roof of the car intermittently.

It’s a good time for meditation and quiet contemplation of the year that is almost over. It’s a good time to reflect on what has worked and what hasn’t worked so well. It’s a good time to look ahead and wonder, question, dream, and plan. Later, the sun will rise, and it will be a good time to begin again.

Well, it’s my last work shift before a new year begins. Damn this year went by so fast. It’s been… much. Google “2023” and there are plenty of articles and listicles and videos already available breaking it all down, in spite of the clock not yet running out on 2023. Another year behind us…

…Another chance to do better, to begin again…

I’m not a fan of “resolutions” as a New Year’s celebration. I mean, the intention is good – make a change. Good goal. Most people focus on fitness, diet, exercise, something they’d like to do, some aspirational change of habit… and most people, most years, fail on most resolutions. It’s just not ideally effective as an approach, I guess.

I’ve got a list of books I’d like to read this year (most of them are to do with work related topics). I’ve got a goal in mind to walk a given number of miles this year (and it’s a bit more than last year). I have it in mind to do a better job with my self-care day-to-day and to continue down my path, maintaining or even improving on the practices that generally tend to support my generally good quality of life. I’ve even got my eye on being a better partner – and a better person. A better listener? That, too. It’s a lot to shoot for. lol All good stuff. Reasonable. Useful. Lofty. I can expect it to be a lot of work. I can expect my results to vary. There will be verbs involved – many. I can expect more failures than successes – at least initially; it takes time to build a practice (and repetition, a lot of repetition). There it is. A new year “all planned” and filled with an idea of who this woman is who I would most like to be. It’s at least a starting point. I can’t call myself “resolved” though, and I don’t view these as “resolutions”… I’m just a woman with an idea of what I’d like to get done next year, or see changed. I’ll do my best.

I still make a firm practice of taking “One Hour” each New Year’s Day, to reflect and evaluate and wonder. It’s a meditation, a self-care practice, and a worthwhile means of celebrating the new year without a lot of boozy noise and distractions, which I’m not really much into, myself.

I sit quietly with my morning coffee, gazing at the waning moon hanging above the city. Quiet morning. Lovely. Peaceful. I got a better night’s sleep than I have in the last couple days, but woke early to find my Traveling Partner already up, himself, quietly watching videos. A moment or two of conversation later, and I made the drive into the city for this last shift. Then… the weekend, the new year, and the whole cycle begins again, with spending much of New Year’s Day taking down all the holiday decor and returning it to storage for another year.

I sigh out loud, sip my coffee, and get ready to begin again.

I’m sipping my coffee “treat” this morning, enjoying the unusual flavor combination of a maple-sage cashew-milk latte. It’s very nice. Rich and velvety on my tongue, with the taste of sage and coffee hitting my senses first, and seeming quite festive, with the subtler notes of the maple and the cashew milk making me think twice about what it was I just tasted. Interesting. I don’t have lattes very often, and it’s a pleasant holiday treat.

This morning I am thinking about forgiveness and atonement. I’m thinking about forgiveness because I was once a 20-something woman of such ferocity and bitterness towards life that I commonly snarled (in response to any suggestion that some particularly heinous experiences in my life might warrant “forgiveness”) that “there are some sins even your god does not forgive”, before turning my back to walk away, radiating seething suppressed rage. I’m not sure I still stand in those same shoes, these days, nor do I feel at all certain that it’s a good place to be as an individual. On the other hand, there remains a certain someone who was once in my life of whom it is hard to hold any thought but “fuck that bitch”, with anger teetering on an urge for violence. Her narcissistic machinations left me damaged. Worse still, she hurt my Traveling Partner and did her damnedest to end his relationship with me. But… Holding on to that pain and impotent rage? That’s not at all who I want to be. So… as my Traveling Partner has suggested many times, I’m probably overdue to sort that shit out and move on. Forgiveness isn’t about her, it’s for me.

Atonement is something different. Atonement requires me to acknowledge the part I’ve played in some kind of wrong, and to do something to make it right. Acknowledgement. Contrition. Apology. Reparation. It’s the hard work of being real about being human. Big stuff and small stuff, we all fuck shit up. We all hurt people sometimes. Being a better human being than I was yesterday means coming to terms with the things I’ve done that hurt someone else or created real harm, and doing something to set things right.

…I see a lot of thoughtful self-reflection and contemplation coming my way…

What about when the forgiveness is self-forgiveness? What about when the wrongs were against myself – how do I atone for those hurts, too? How much of this is about me, and how much is in pursuit of healthier relationships and a better world, generally? (Does that matter, at all?)

I sip my delicious latte and think my thoughts. Soon it will be time to put some kind thinking into action. Then I’ll begin again.

This morning I woke from the kind of rest I generally only daydream of enjoying. I dreamt, sure, wholesome playful surreal dreams with no hint of terror or anxiety. I slept deeply – my sleep tracker even agrees with me. I woke early, yes, but… I woke in a natural way, feeling rested, undisturbed, just finished with sleeping. I even woke feeling alert and “sorted out”, as if indeed my sleep were truly restful, restorative, and refreshing. Nice change of pace after several days of waking groggy and confused from restless anxious dreams and interrupted sleep that seemed wholly inadequate and left me feeling prone to tears or stupid and dull-witted.

I dressed for the day without much thought, gathered up my things, handled what seemed an effortless commute into the city. Made coffee when I arrived at the office, and started my day. Comfortable. Rested. Calm. Content. Even… merry. For real, unforced, gentle background merriment, as if all is well in the world. Realistically, I know its only this tiny slice of the world, this one limited moment, and as with all things, at some point this too will pass. I’m okay with it; I’ve got this here, now. It’s enough.

I feel the soft smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. This is a good beginning to the day. I drink it in, as I drink my coffee, which, rather like the moment, manages to be quite ordinary in all regards, while also quite pleasant. This? Right here? This is the “state of being” I strive for day-to-day: calm, contented, relaxed, easy in my mind, and “merry”. I “feel great” for most values of “feeling”. Yes, I am still having to deal with physical pain – that’s why it’s called “chronic pain”, and there’s not much to do about that besides take care of myself, manage my pain as best I can, and do what I can to limit the control it has over my quality of life, generally. It’s for sure helpful to avoid taking it personally – it isn’t personal. It’s just pain. It sucks, yes, and sometimes it’s hard to pay attention to anything else. That’s just real. It’s also not “everything”. So, this morning, I notice my arthritis pain. My neck pain. My headache. I stand up, have a good stretch and double-check the ergonomics of my workstation. Then I move on with the morning.

I think about my Traveling Partner, sleeping at home, and hopefully continuing to recover from his recent injury. Being injured stresses him out. Him being stressed out stresses me out and drives quite a bit of background anxiety for me; I worry. Certainly it’s a sign of how deeply connected we really are. Nonetheless, it’s the sort of emotional feedback loop that can create a lot of chaos and emotional volatility for both of us. Last evening was pleasant and relaxed, and getting some really good sleep last night finds me feeling stable and resilient. I hope he wakes similarly refreshed, and feeling a sense of healing and progress, in spite of his frustration with being injured. I think over the evening we shared, with a smile in my heart. It reminds me that I’d said I’d go to the store on my way back from the office today – I set a reminder, and make a list.

I breathe. Exhale. Relax. Pull myself upright and feel my back crack in a couple places, which eases some small amount of my discomfort, but also serves to make me more aware of the places where I hurt most, now. lol Funny how that works. I guess it makes sense; what we put our attention on is what dominates our awareness. Pretty obvious when I think about it.

The clock ticks. The day begins. It’s time to begin again.