Archives for posts with tag: mindfulness matters

Sometimes all it takes to change my perspective is a difference in timing. I woke a bit later than usual and immediately headed out to get a walk in, first thing on this windy gray Saturday morning. The weather is blustery and chilly, but not particularly cold, and between the later start time and the slow seasonal change to the timing of the sunrise, it’s already daybreak, just barely, when I get to the trailhead. The park gate hasn’t yet opened, and I wait with quiet eagerness.

Yesterday was fun and encouraging. My Traveling Partner got his first work day since he got hurt handled and it went well. Together, later, we assembled an inversion table (hopefully it’s a helpful piece of gear for his continued recovery), without any cross words at all, in spite of my fatigue at the end of the day. It was fun.

Today kicks off a long weekend, but I didn’t make any particular plans. Housekeeping, and caring for my partner will likely take up much of my time. I could possibly get going on the taxes. Maybe I will get out into the garden? (That sounds lovely…)

The wind rocks the car and howls past me, whipping the trees back and forth. Occasional raindrops spatter the windshield as I wait for the clang of the gate opening.

I have no idea what the weekend holds, but I have this trail ahead of me, and this lovely morning, and I am ready to begin again.

I’m waiting, again, at a trailhead. Daybreak is here and the gate to the nature preserve will open shortly. It’s a new day.

The view from a parking space, looking towards the highway.

I breathe, exhale, relax… and listen through the ringing in my ears for the clang of the gate opening.

Yesterday, in my impatience to get going, I walked in the pre-dawn twilight just at daybreak on a very cloudy morning. I started out with my headlamp on, and needed it. I find the walking both less satisfying and also riskier at that hour, and this morning I am taking a more patient approach.

… Strangely, it’s definitely “dawn” now and the visibility is quite good, but the gate has not yet opened. Quite odd. I find myself wondering if the sensor is broken, and whether I will be waiting a long while for a park ranger to come by to open it…? Curious, I check the website, which still says the trails are open “dawn to dusk”. The gate across the driveway up to the main parking area and year-round trailhead disagrees. Most peculiar.

I sigh quietly and work on managing my frustration and disappointment. There are other trails nearby. I could choose differently and don’t have to wait… I sit with that thought awhile. What to do?

… I hear the clang. It’s time to begin again.

Later. The morning air along the edge of the marsh smelled rather like aquarium water. The migratory birds gathered in groups here and there were waking for the day and beginning to take flight. The sky lightened to shades of blue and pale gray. A soft misty rain began to fall. I walked on, smiling.

I’m sitting in my car, waiting for the sunrise to illuminate the trail, preferring not to walk it in the dark. I slept poorly, completely pwnd by my nightmares. My head aches ferociously and I feel as if I am stressed to a breaking point in spite of so recently having a few days away. I find myself on the edge of tears over and over again, and awash in vague feelings of frustration. It’s shitty.

I breathe. Exhale. Regain a sense of calm. Then I lose it again. The experience is very much as if I am completely “disregulated” for some reason. My thoughts come back to this fucking headache. Going on 9 years, in January. No relief. No diagnosis that feels trustworthy or useful. I’m still here, though, that’s something. For now it has to be enough.

The beginning of a sunrise.

My Traveling Partner pings me a greeting. He’s up early. His injured condition is vexing and worrisome for both of us. Worse for him, obviously, living with it. The visit to the ER earlier this week seemed somewhat reassuring but the feeling hasn’t lasted and he’s struggling more than seems reasonable. No doubt this is weighing more heavily on my heart and mind than I was prepared for.

The sun begins to rise and the horizon is on fire with intense reds and oranges, and a hint of pink. It’s gorgeous. I sit watching it evolve over some minutes, half an eye on the trailhead. Soon the path will be light enough to walk quite safely.

I try to let the sunrise be enough. The tears start falling. I let them. I don’t really know what else to do with tears. Right now is hard. Sometimes that’s how things are. The world seems like a pretty terrible heartless place right now, which adds to the feeling of senselessness, futility, and frustration. Subjectively, I feel very alone and ineffective, powerless to prevent this mortal vessel from breaking down, powerless to help my partner, powerless to help my dearest friend. Powerless to change the world. Mortality comes for us all, and these fucking meat suits are more fragile than they seemed in younger years. Fuck.

I cry awhile, sitting here alone, watching the sun rise. Sometimes a sunrise is all we get. Sometimes it has to be enough. I sigh and wipe the tears off my face before I get out of the car to walk this favorite trail. It’s time to begin again.

I’m sipping what is left of my first cup of coffee. It’s mostly gone cold and I think about that new mug my Traveling Partner got to keep his coffee warm while he is working… yeah… do want. lol Another time; it’s on my wishlist. 😀 This coffee, right here, is good enough.

It’s a quiet moment. Lo-fi playing in the background, the soft sound of the A/C (or is it the heat?) running in the background. Laptop in my lap. Morning. My Traveling Partner was up when I got up. He went back to bed shortly after I made my coffee and sat down with him. I figure he was most likely up during the night, based on the peculiarly affronted tone of voice to his reply (he declined) when I asked if he’d like me to make him a cup of coffee as I went to make mine. I hope he gets the rest he needs.

…I guess this means we’re not going out to breakfast, though… lol

I give myself over to enjoying the quiet. Later, I’ll do laundry, dishes, vacuuming and dusting, and all the assorted housekeeping I just don’t have energy for during the work week. I make a grocery list, also for later.

Yesterday, I went shopping for jeans to replace the tattered overly-worn (worn-out) jeans I’ve been shlumping around in for a year (longer). I don’t enjoy shopping for jeans – it’s often quite difficult to find any that fit, are comfortable, and also look good to me. This time, with some effort and a lot of trying things on, I found some I liked and it didn’t even feel like an unreasonable expense. After I got home, I did the step that I so often fail on; I went through every pair of jeans I had in my closet, tried each pair on, and put it through the same test as when shopping for new ones; do they fit, are they comfortable, do I like the way they look on me? Everything that failed even one of those tests went into a bag to go to a local donation center. Clearing up the clutter always seems to also “free my mind” from the sludge of chaos.

This morning, I woke, showered, and put on a pair of new jeans. Feels good… and a little weird. A well-broken-in pair of jeans has a certain familiar feel that is hard to describe. These don’t have that, yet, but they are very comfortable, and I am at ease. I remind myself that just because something is familiar that doesn’t make it also good.

Why does any of this even matter? I’m not sure it does. It’s just a quiet Sunday morning suited to self-reflection, and I happen to be aware of my higher than usual feeling of personal comfort and contentment in this moment. I’m making a point to be aware of what has gone into creating this moment, and really making a point to savor it; it won’t last. Moments don’t last. They are fleeting. Brief. Transitory. They are… momentary. Eventually, I’ll have to begin again. 😀

For now, it’s me, this quiet moment, the lo-fi on the stereo, this feeling of comfort and this cup of almost finished, almost cold coffee… and it’s enough.

I am sipping some iced tea with lemon. I didn’t make it. It is a canned commercial product. It’s okay. Mildly carbonated, which seems pretty unnecessary for iced tea, but it is available, it is cold, and it did not require me to make iced tea to have some. lol I am thinking about what that says about my desire for “ease” vs my desire for good quality of life. It seems the sort of thing worth thinking about.

As I made the drive in to the city this morning, I was also thinking. Mostly about “work life balance” and what that actually seems to mean, and what that can (or has)(or does) look like (for me). I have tended to mostly think about “work life balance” in terms of … a scale. Two opposites in equal measure, you know – balanced. It has not generally been the case that I have been able to make that work out quite that way. I mean… there are 7 days in a week. I work 5 of those, most of the time. The common assumption is 40 work hours in a week, divided more or less into 8-hour days (when we’re fortunate to enjoy working conditions that preserve an expectation of employee leisure being respected). That’s a pretty big chunk of our life time, so… where’s the “balance”?

Fairly often, in my own experience, any appearance of “work life balance” has been more like a pendulum swinging between extremes, some weeks mostly work, some weeks a bit more leisure than is typical, and back and forth pretty endlessly. There have been notable exceptions where the “routine” wasn’t routine at all, and finding any “balance” was more like a dance than a pendulum’s steady swing. In other cases, any hint of “work life balance” was purely linguistic, and not to be taken at all seriously by anyone involved. Those are commonly pretty toxic experiences, and I avoid those.

I continue to look for a better balance, though; more life, less work… it gets tricky when the conversation turns to pay. I definitely still want to get paid. LOL

I sip my tea and reflect. I think about how tricky it is to balance all the elements of a life well-lived… the living, the loving, the working, the resting… and I think about how often one or another detail feels “just right”, while literally everything else seems to be going to shit. lol How very human. Certainly it’s been those “just right” experiences that have often been what has “kept me going”, avoiding despair, keeping up practices, breathing through the emotions, and accepting that “this too will pass” – because it will, and it does, and it’s on to the next thing.

My Traveling Partner has got the truck set up for camping and off-roading and overland adventuring. Exciting. I’m expecting that any day now he will calmly advise me that he is going to “hit the road and check everything out” in preparation for camping together for my birthday. I’m super excited about the camping trip we have planned. I’m also excited to have a couple days home alone… by July we’ll have been in this little house for 3 years. I’ve never spent a night at home alone in all that time. I guess I’m fortunate to be able to say that, given the quality and good character of this love of ours. I’m still looking forward to it. 🙂

…And every time I think about being home alone, while my Traveling Partner travels, I miss him with an incredible ache in my heart that feels just a bit like… withdrawals. lol I’m pretty crazy about this particular other human being. Like a teenager with a first crush…

The minutes tick by. I sip my tea and think my thoughts. I breathe, exhale, relax… soon enough, I’ll also begin again. It’s a new day ahead. New options. New choices. New circumstances. There is room for improvement. Room for change and for growth. All it takes is a new beginning, and a handful of verbs.