Archives for posts with tag: meditation

Coffee Time

October 9, 2023 //

I’m sipping my coffee and thinking about green tomato pickles. It’s not a random thought; I’ve got a lot of green tomatoes in the garden, and the season is quickly ending. Rather than waste that bounty, I have been thinking about what to do with those green tomatoes. Pickles? A relish? Sliced and fried? I’ve got options.

…Live is rich with options…

Last night my Traveling Partner and I closed out a lovely day with continued conversation about various household options, most particularly what he’s going to do about/with his work & gaming space. He is very much one of those folks who will regularly change things up with the decor, the arrangements, the utility of a given space. I’m one of the other sorts; I like to “figure it out” and have things as I like them, and then simply live with that more or less indefinitely until something forces me to consider a change. I find myself less likely to “become lost” in the middle of the night as though I’ve awakened in an unfamiliar place, if my place remains familiar. LOL No criticism of my partner’s approach, it’s just one of many variations on the theme of being human. Some people also drink tea, instead of coffee. Just saying – there are options.

…We both drink coffee…

…Okay, he also drinks quite a bit of iced tea, and I enjoy the occasional cup of hot tea on a chilly day, or in the afternoon. lol Options.

I spent yesterday afternoon in the garden. It was lovely time, well-spent. I didn’t get as far with things as I might have liked. I decided to let a few more tomatoes ripen on the vines, while there are still warm afternoons for them to do so. My original intent had been to cut the vines down and strip the green tomatoes from them and then… do something with those. I’ll still have that opportunity, it just won’t be this weekend. More time to decide on pickles or relish or some kind of delicious sauce for a chicken dish, or perhaps just fried up and served with scrambled eggs and toast some morning. 😀 I ache today, although whether it’s due to the work yesterday or the likelihood of rain today, I don’t know. It’s among the many things that don’t really matter, I suppose.

…Some things definitely matter more than other things…

I’m listening to the rain already, on a video. Considering all the many options for “content” that I could consume, it may seem strange that I so often choose this… but I find it both relaxing and also suitable for masking other sounds in the background. I enjoy it. I’m definitely a fan of choosing the options I most enjoy, when I’m able to do so. I’m fortunate that at this point in my life I am in no way prone to taking that inclination to hedonistic extremes; it can go very wrong for some people.

I sip my coffee and think my thoughts. Last day of a long weekend, for me. Work day for my Traveling Partner. I’ll likely find something to do at some point and do that… whether here or elsewhere is as yet unknown. I think about self-care practices, and I think about creative endeavors, and I think about the spaces in my life where those things collide…

…My Traveling Partner sticks his head in my studio and points out that I’ve got a good opportunity to have a soak before it starts raining today. It’s tempting… very. He points out that I am reliably in a better mood and feel better after a good soak. He’s right about that. So…

…Some time later, after a lovely soak on a not-yet-rainy-but-already-misty morning, I return to my writing and my now-cold coffee with a profound feeling of contentment, and a handful of homemade chocolate chip cookies. 😀 Options!

I’ve no idea what the rest of the day holds… I know I have options. Choices. Undetermined potential in the hours ahead… it’s a nice feeling. I munch a cookie and sip my coffee feeling as if “all is right with the world” – though I know that truly that is not the case in any global real-world way. Individual self-care requires me to care for this individual that I am, with my whole attention and will, and legitimate authentic consideration for myself and this fragile vessel. In this limited sense, “the world can wait” – these individual moments of contentment and joy have real value. Perhaps if more of us were focused on delivering, enabling, creating, and sharing moments of joy there’d be less will for bombing innocent civilians (or, frankly, anyone at all) into remnants of flesh and memories? Suffice it to say I am not unaware of the horrors of war, nor what is going on in the world beyond my little suburban home in the countryside – I just also definitely need to (and will) take care of myself. I’ve learned that lesson over a painful lifetime. “Put your own oxygen mask on first.” It’s good advice. In the event that oxygen masks deploy, whether for real or metaphorically, it definitely makes good sense to mask up before you start trying to put masks on other people. 😉

You’ve got options. Consider them. Take a minute and do it with intention and deliberation. Choose wisely. You are the architect of your own experience. You are your own cartographer on life’s journey. Choose your path and walk it. If you find that you’ve strayed…? Begin again.

Tags be considerate, be here now, be kind, be present, be the good guy, begin again, choose wisely, don't believe the hype, don't kill people, emotional self sufficiency, it doesn't matter who started it, meditation, no good guys, options, perspective, practicing the practices, ptsd, put your own oxygen mask on first, self-care first, stop killing people, taking care of me, TBI, The Art of Being, there are verbs involved, war, war and warfare, what matters most?, what soldiers know about war, you have choices

Categories Allegories, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being, turning 60, War and News of War

Then The Rain Came

September 23, 2023 //

When the rain began to fall, so close to the forecasted time it may as well have been a plan, rather than a weather forecast, I was long gone. Already home. Already showered. Already astonished to feel the bone-deep fatigue that had set in once I got home. My Traveling Partner seems glad to see me. We both get something out of these opportunities to miss each other.

I had originally planned to be camping Wednesday through Sunday, home on Sunday afternoon. Instead, I got started a day later (bills to pay, frankly, and needed the work hours), and then called it “done” a day early, when the weather forecast became pretty insistent on the chance of rain going from “possible” to “probable” to “count on it”. I am decently well-equipped, even for camping in the rain, but… I didn’t bring the extra overhead cover I’d need to make cooking outdoors comfortable in a downpour, and didn’t look forward to breaking down my camp in a rainstorm, either. I woke this morning having already coordinated with my Traveling Partner, who seemed more eager to see me than inconvenienced by my early return. The sky threatened rain before day break, but the forecast stayed true; no rain fell. I had coffee and a bite of breakfast, tidied up, and got started packing up.

I got in some good walks. Got some good pictures. Got some solo time thinking my own thoughts and being master of my time, my intentions, and my effort from the moment I woke each day until sleep took me down each night. I meditated. I watched the fire grow cold on a chilly evening alone with the woman in the mirror. I picked up my sketchbook to sketch or paint, and put it down without doing anything with it at all. I picked up a book to read, and put that down, too. Turns out, this trip was me, with my thoughts, and little more than that. I cooked. I tended the fire. I listened to my inner voice, and reflected on my experience.

…It was an amazing time to spend with myself…

I don’t want to mischaracterize my camping trip; I was in a colossal managed state park that has some 400+ individual sites, arranged in loops A through H. This place is huge – and popular. Jessie M. Honeyman Memorial State Park is on the Oregon Dunes. It’s an amazing place, with several activities available, including ATVs on the dunes, kayaking or paddle boating on either of two lakes, fishing, swimming, hiking, biking, or joining the merry oldsters in the Welcome Center to work on the latest jigsaw puzzle. Popular + activities = crowded. I wasn’t surprised that most of the sites seemed full, even on a Thursday. This fucking place looks like an outdoor gear convention. It was hard to “be alone” surrounded by people – I got most of what I needed fireside in the evening, or out on the trail during the day. It’s a friendly place. And noisy. So noisy. I can’t even go hard enough on this point; it’s fucking noisy. ATV’s. Packs of shrieking kids. Wailing babies. Adults who should know better yelling to each other across multiple sites worth of distance. Loud trucks and loud talkers. It’s fucking noisy. It’s not a great choice for camping if quiet is what you’re looking for, is what I’m saying. I was regularly approached in camp by strangers asking questions about my solar panels, or the fridge, or some other piece of gear or something else that caught their eye. Like I said; a friendly place.

…I’m not really “approachably friendly” with strangers, though, so this tested my ability to be polite and gracious, which are skills worth cultivating…

I’m glad to be home. I slept poorly. There were too many “feral children” running about loose without supervision in small packs of “new best friends”. There were too many dogs on leashes (and a few that weren’t, which was worse) and many of them barked. Like, a lot. People camping in family groups taking several sites were common… and loud. Very loud. “Rambunctious” seems like a good word for it. In spite of all of that, I had a good time, and got a lot of what I needed out of the time spent more or less alone. Worth it.

…The drive was lovely, both directions, and felt very much as if I were the only car on the road at all. It was quite wonderful.

Anyway. I’m home. There’s more to say about it, more to process. Pictures to look over. Anecdotes to share when the context and timing are right. I sit here listening to the rain fall (on a video, as rain falls outside), happy to be home. Happy to be.

A frown crosses my thoughts briefly…some bad news shared by a friend taking the form of a facial expression as I recall it. I breathe, exhale, and let that go for the moment. I’ll come back to it, later.

I sit here with my feet up, feeling grateful, contented, and loved. It’s enough. More than enough. It’s a firm foundation for all the many new beginnings to come. 🙂

Tags begin again, emotional self sufficiency, let it rain, listening to my own thoughts, meditation, perspective, practicing the practices, ptsd, quality time alone, solo hiking, taking care of me, TBI, The Art of Being, there are verbs involved, this one's for me, walk on, walking on sand

Categories Allegories, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, turning 60

The Quiet Times

June 28, 2023 //

I’m sipping some fizzy water in a cool, dimly lit, hotel room in the desert. The whole experience feels exotic and a tad surreal. At the moment, there is nothing at all “going on” – no planned activities, no agenda items, no dangling work… just… quiet. The stillness is filled only with the sound of the AC blowing softly, and my fingers dancing across the keyboard. For a moment it sounds almost like someone tap-dancing, just behind me. I breathe, exhale, relax, and consider for a moment whether I need pain medication, or would benefit from a cool shower, a nap, or perhaps wish to venture out into the sunshine.

…I smile understandingly at myself; it’s easy to run from the quiet times when I have them. It’s not a good practice, but it is easy. lol Another breathe. I pause to spend a few minutes on meditation.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

I stretch, reaching for the ceiling, and then for the floor, as I get up from my cushion, after some minutes of meditation. I sit back down at this keyboard to reflect and to share, before the afternoon grows later.

The weather here is hot, dry, and breezy. The sun blasts the mountains and ground between them. It was already 75F by breakfast, and now it is 91F (and getting hotter) – it’s just past noon. The hotel staff smile when someone mentions the heat. We are enjoying – apparently – an unseasonal break from it (at these temperatures).

The signal strength and reliability of the hotel wi-fi connection isn’t great. My signal drops occasionally. This is not a great place to spend the day watching videos or movies, or doing anything at all that requires connectivity. What is a great place for are these quiet times. Sure, I could step out into the heat and dazzling sunshine reflected from the hotel pool. I don’t. I sit here quietly for some little while, soaking in the quiet. It’s such a rare thing (for me, most of the time) to find myself alone and embraced by stillness all around. I crave it. Seek it. Enjoy it. So… running from it, however easy, would just not be acceptable. We’ve got a work session planned for the afternoon, and soon enough it’ll be time to make my way to the co-work space we’ve reserved for the purpose. Soon enough. For now, there’s all this lovely quiet time to enjoy…

…Later will be soon enough to begin again.

Tags begin again, choose stillness, cultivate calm, emotional self sufficiency, finding my own way, meditation, perspective, practicing the practices, ptsd, sit happens, taking care of me, TBI, The Art of Being, there are verbs involved

Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Practices, Summer, The Art of Being

Find It, Use It, Spend It, Waste It

June 15, 2023 //

Time. What are you doing with yours? Such a finite limited resource in a single mortal lifetime, eh? It can drive a real feeling of desperation trying to “stay caught up”. I think of an old Joe Jackson song… I used to be seriously hung up about time (and timing). It was problematic and stressful. Not helpful at all, and the anxiety did nothing to improve my efficiency. That frenetic driven pace wasn’t particularly useful, and I often felt as if I was chasing seconds at the cost of hours and days. I don’t do that now (not generally). Instead, I let that go and practice living my life, instead. 😀

It’s a strange journey, and the distance between my starting point and my destination is sometimes quite a way to go.

The limitations time places on me, as a mortal creature, comes with a certain poignance, now and then, a feeling that “I’m not doing it right” or that “time is running out”… a sensation of a ticking clock, always in the background, counting down these precious moments… It’s an illusion, as is that sensation of pressure to do more faster. We’re mortal creatures, for sure, and that feels pretty limiting sometimes, but… a life well-lived feels – often – pretty “timeless”. I’ve been enjoying that sensation a lot, lately.

It’s not where I’m seated that matters most, it’s more about what fills my thoughts.

…The clock keeps ticking, however I choose to spend my time…

What enriches your life? I’m not talking about cash assets here. I’m asking what fulfills you? What do you want more of in life? How do you choose to spend your precious limited life time?

I’m learning to make room in my day(s) for the moments that feel the best – love, loving, a good book, a good meal, laughing with friends, sharing my thoughts with my Traveling Partner, walking and thinking… there’s a lot to enjoy in life, and the time is short. Every moment of pointless bullshit or drama robs me of an opportunity to experience some moment of joy; the time is finite. Moments come and go, and once they are in the past, they are what they ~~are~~ were – for always. Just memories. I’m learning to make good ones. (Memories, I mean.)

There are signs of human endeavors almost everywhere.

My recent birthday camping adventure was well-spent on long moments of quiet reflection, and the joy of my Traveling Partner’s good company. I could have “done more”, or gotten more “activities” worked into the experience, probably, but what was filling my soul and nurturing me was simply sitting and enjoying that time that was such a departure from the routine. Calling it “fun” doesn’t really share the experience in a meaningful way. (It was a lot of fun, for sure.) I definitely really needed that time to chill and reflect quietly, and just observe the world in the form of breezes, waves, and blue skies, without all the fuss and bother of humanity’s comings and goings and frantic attempts to control time.

I took pointers on “how to relax” from the local wildlife, they’ve certainly mastered their method. 😀

I came home with a renewed sense of presence in my experience, and some new perspective. I came home feeling uplifted, and deeply in love with my Traveling Partner. I came home feeling comfortable in my skin and sure of myself. All good stuff. The best part? I came home. It felt good to be at home, to have a home to come home to in the first place, and to be there with my Traveling Partner was a hell of a bonus. Life well-lived? Working on it – and getting great results.