Archives for posts with tag: mindfulness

I am enjoying the literal darkness, quite specifically before dawn – already the days shift such that the sun is no longer already beginning to rise when I do. Now I’m up sooner, sipping coffee and listening to the bullfrogs on the marsh well before the sky even begins to lighten. I’m okay with that – seasons change. If I weren’t okay with it, there’s nothing at all I could do about it – seasons change. 🙂

Change is, whether I choose it or not, whether I am able to embrace it, or fight it every step of the way, clinging madly to what once was. Change just is. When I am able to participate in change in a wholesome aware sort of way, I generally find it isn’t even unpleasant to face change. I think this idea explains the quick (fairly painless) shift from panic regarding an unexpected rent increase that I wouldn’t be able to afford long-term, to enthusiasm about an upcoming move; I recognized imminent change coming, and dived right in to make choices that willfully guide my path through that process. Or something. I at least like how that sounds. 🙂

There is so much to do. I guess I’ve got to just keep diving into these changes. lol 🙂

…In the meantime, there is life to live, alongside and mixed in with moving. Fucking complicated. lol I often feel very distracted lately, caught up in the move going on in my head, already. I have to pull myself back to “now” again and again. The value in making a point of doing so is obvious to me now, where perhaps once I wouldn’t have really understood why it was worth the bother; life happens outside my head. Living requires more verbs than daydreams. My most precious memories are not about what I was thinking at the time, they are about what I was doing, and who I was with. 🙂

Today is a work day, and it is my “Friday”. Ahead of me there is time to pack things in boxes, and time to take down paintings, and time to take things from here to there – although that is still a couple weeks away. Behind me are memories. Here I am sipping coffee in the one fully real moment I’ve ever got – now. I’m taking time to enjoy it, just as it is, pre-dawn darkness and all. 🙂 Why wouldn’t I? It’s enough.

 

I’d meant to be writing much sooner, finally getting a good night’s sleep and waking feeling fully rested and wholly clear-headed it seemed likely to be a good day for it.

…I’m still sitting here, more than an hour later, just sipping coffee, and continuing to plan out my upcoming move. 🙂 Coffee’s good, though.

I listen to the red-wing blackbirds, assorted songbirds, the breezes and even the traffic beyond the park. This audible viewpoint won’t be the background music of my at-home experience for very much longer. The water birds on the marsh, and the eagles and owls in combination with the specific songbirds in this eco-system have very much their own sound. I soak it in. I’d like to remember all the very best things about this experience of life, here. I didn’t think twice about letting the writing fall to the side, overlooked, while I took time to savor this moment, right here. 🙂

The dawn came later than I expected. The sky is overcast, a smooth formless gray. The temperature is comfortably cool. I enjoy the view here, although I often find myself carefully positioning myself so that my field of vision does not include the playground to the left, or the basketball court to the right. I enjoy the illusion of uninterrupted nature beyond the edge of the patio, but it has always been an illusion.

The flowers just outside my window are visible from my desk, against a backdrop of green lawn, and meadow beyond, very different than if I look at them from the lawn, looking back at the apartment. Same flowers, though.

Who will my wild neighbors be at the new house? Will the squirrels right here “miss me” – or even notice that I’ve gone? How long will it take for the squirrels at the new house to notice someone different has moved in? I smile and finish my coffee; these are questions for another day, some other moment. I pull myself back into this moment, now. I breathe the meadow breeze deeply, and enjoy the scent of summer flowers. I listen to the coming and going of the commuter train; it is a work day.

I notice there is still time to get some tidying up done, and to meditate. Good self-care works best practiced regularly, for me. I guess I’ll get going on that… or make another coffee, and sit on the patio enjoying the morning for a little while longer… 🙂

 

Well… Isn’t it? Is it? Are we back to this; what is “enough”? Maybe for at least a moment. lol

I’m still sifting through my experiences of the weekend, thoughtfully. I’m still considering the moments, the thoughts, the notions, the hints of changes within reach…and wondering. Just that. It’s that sort of morning. A slow dawn is chasing twilight-blue clouds left behind from night, which seem to softly slide away as the sun rises. It’s a good moment for thinking. It’s a good moment for wonder.

…I’ll eventually find my way; I just take my time with it.

I’m thinking about “enough” – sufficiency. I’m thinking about “now”, and the way “now” becomes the foundation of the future. I’m thinking about life through a colorful kaleidoscope of recent camping memories, and hints of Rick & Morty; there are so many choices on the way to the future!

My Traveling Partner reached out from the highway last night. It was an unexpected delight to hear his voice. I find my thoughts shifting toward wondering where/how he is this morning, and whether he is still driving, and whether he is watching the sun rise, as I am. I love those odd moments of shared-experience-from-differing-vantage-points – we have a lot of those. He’ll certainly be home today, at some point, if he isn’t already… a quick check of the clock suggests that the earliest he could have completed his journey would have been about 3 am – no message from him, so he’s likely still “out there”, somewhere. My heart soars just having taken a moment to consider him.

Today will be an ordinary work day, and I’m okay with that; that too is “enough”. Will I see my Traveling Partner? Maybe. He’ll probably be worn out and needing some rest, though, and it’s far more likely I will see him tomorrow… then… our calendar suggests he’s back on the road Thursday. Busy summer. My birthday is next week-end. What will that be about? lol Conveniently, I’ll have a couple days off to find out, and my Traveling Partner has invited me to join him out there in the world for a couple days of adventure. 😀 There’s really no way of knowing, at this point, what next weekend will hold. I find that a challenge, personally, preferring to plan things in a fairly detailed way (without becoming emotionally invested in the actual outcome). It’s a good opportunity to let go a little; no planning required. (No, no – I mean, for me to let go a little, it is a requirement that there be no planning. LOL) (Seriously, though? I prefer to plan.)

The sun continues to rise. I’m enjoying this moment, right here, right now, and it is enough. 🙂

3 days, two nights, one purpose, and I return to my apartment by the park with sore feet, aching muscles, stiff joints, and a smile that  won’t quit.

3 mosquito bites, two unexplained bruises, 1 blister over 17 miles of trails, and I shot more than 100 pictures, and spotted a rainbow’s worth of different wildflowers in bloom.

I reached my campsite and set up camp well before dusk settled in, on Wednesday evening. I managed more than 4 miles of hiking that evening, just getting my gear to the hike-in camping area, and exploring the nearest trails after making camp.

A coffee well-earned, an evening of quiet.

It rained most of the night, and I laid wakefully, contentedly listening to the rain fall, more than necessarily pleased that my tent doesn’t leak.

The rain-drenched morning didn’t quench my enthusiasm for the day ahead.

I spent Thursday meditating, after morning coffee and a short hike to stretch my legs, and didn’t do much else. I brought a journal to write in, and a notebook, a sketch pad and colored pencils for drawing, my camera, my kindle… and other than my camera, I didn’t touch any of the distractions I brought along to pass the time; I didn’t need them. Time passed just fine without any help from me. 🙂

Given the necessary conditions, I bloom in my own time. It is often enough to sit quietly and allow the moment to unfold.

I spent Friday hiking, departing fairly early in the morning to walk a new path. The trail I chose was sufficiently challenging to push me, lovely enough to be utterly worth it without any other “reason” to go the whole distance, and totally within my ability. I returned to camp in the afternoon, got my boots off, put my feet up, and made coffee. Out among the trees, coffee doesn’t seem to keep me from sleeping, ever, however late I may be drinking it. I bet there’s something to be learned from that…

Where does my path lead? It’s helpful to have a map, but the map is not the world.

…Instead of learning anything about coffee, though, I learned something different. As campers arrived to fill nearby sites for the weekend, I learned that my needs were met, and that I was “done”. I learned that I didn’t really want to sit through a chilly evening overhearing loud conversations about corporate headaches, challenges with the kids’ teachers, or sports. I learned that I didn’t find value in enduring another camper’s choice to bring a generator into the forest for the weekend.

Ultimately, we each choose our own path…

I learned, this weekend, that it really is quite okay to make my choices my way, without any pressure from my own expectations, or anyone else’s; I broke camp late that afternoon, taking my time, packing up skillfully and efficiently without feeling at all rushed. I packed my gear out of the park (taking the same three trips it took to bring it down to the campsite in the first place), still smiling when the effort was completed. I let the park rangers know I was checking out, so they could release that camp site to another camper – it’s a great spot.

The beauty in the world exists whether or not I choose to observe it. My choice to observe the beauty in the world is necessary only to my own appreciation of it.

I got home before the sun set, unpacked enough gear to begin properly unpacking a bit at a time. First, a leisurely shower. A fresh salad. A hot cup of coffee. A moment to begin the upload of all the photographs. No music. No social media. No TV. Patio door open to the breezes and the sound of birdsong. A quiet evening, alone in the stillness, aside from a few minutes checking in with a friend from next door.

Roses blooming on the patio welcome me home, rain-drenched, fragrant, and lovely.

Yesterday I woke, still feeling fairly wrapped in my own purpose, and disinclined to be particularly social. I wrote a dear friend. I unpacked some things. I meditated. I gardened. It was a chilly gray day, and I enjoyed the morning with a crackling fire in the fireplace – which I might also have done if I had remained out in the trees another day. There seemed no urgency to connect to the digital world with any haste – no one was expecting me to, in any case. (Good expectation-setting for the win!) I watched the birds come and go from the feeder.

It was a lovely day of bird-watching.

Here it is, today. (Isn’t it always? 😉 ) I figured I’d sleep in… I didn’t. I woke with the dawn. I figured I’d move purposefully down a long list of things I’d like to get done… also not happening, at least not so far. I sip my coffee, smiling softly, watching the birds at the feeder with my laptop balanced on my knees, writing from a slightly different perspective – though whether that is a matter of my laptop, a chilly morning, and cold coffee on the patio, or simply that my perspective remains altered by my time out in the trees is neither known, nor relevant to the experience.

What now? Just this. Isn’t it enough? 🙂

A patio with a view.

One more work shift, and then…

Soon…

I’m overdue for a few days out in the trees. Waking to birdsong Taking long leisurely walks that turn into vague concerns about being sufficiently up to the challenge and finish with a feeling of accomplishment – and laughter. Getting by on my own preparedness and self-sufficiency. Watching small forest creatures live their lives. I’m overdue, too, for being too hot, too cold, and having too many bug bites… yep. All of it. The aches, the pains, the moments of doubt, too. I’m down for all of that. The wakeful bits during the night, hearing something in the darkness, feeling uncertain – I’ll manage. I’ll enjoy the hiking, the reading, the sketching, the writing, the taking of pictures, and cooking by a fire. I’ll enjoy the stillness of unmeasured time. I’ll frustrate myself with the one thing I managed to forget – whatever that turns out to be, I’ll think I really really needed that.

Nights may be “too” cold.

Mornings I may feel stiff.

Yoga in the dirt? Eww… or… Meh. Okay. It’s really not a big deal. 😀

Ants… bees… spiders… mosquitoes…

Miles of trails.

Hours of quiet.

Measured distance from everything else that brings me closer to the woman in the mirror – no mirror required.

I’ll be back soon – Sunday, sometime, most likely. Then? I begin again. 😀

The destination is the journey.