Archives for posts with tag: Monday

It’s Only a Moment

April 7, 2025 //
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The soft drizzle stopped at daybreak and I stepped out of the car onto the trail. This local trail passes alongside a big parking lot, empty at this hour, and through a grove of oaks trees, wrapping around vineyards, and curving around those to head along a creek in a forested space. It’s a pleasant walk, partially lit, mostly paved. This walk is quite local and convenient, managing to feel remote in the very early morning, due to the solitude. Dog walkers and other people getting some miles in generally don’t begin showing up until well past sunrise. It’s nice to have the trail to myself.

One moment of many.

I walk with my thoughts until I reach the bench at my preferred halfway point. I sit awhile to listen to the birds, and watch daybreak become dawn. The dense clouds overhead are moving by quickly and there is a hint of a breeze. The blue gray of the clouds hint at more rain, and the bits of blue sky that show through tease me with the potential for afternoon sunshine, later. I sigh quietly, contentedly, and for a moment I am lost in thoughts of my garden and forgetting the pain I am in. It’s a chilly morning and my arthritis is already complicating my experience. I don’t focus on it, and for the moment it fades into the background.

It’s a Monday morning. A work day, still. I frown, wondering how some people can view life through a lens that defines good quality of life as “employed”, unable to understand how much more there is to living than working to acquire enough money just to pay for the basics. lol I’d certainly rather be sipping my coffee and planning some other sort of day. I’ve got plenty of things to do that aren’t work at all!

… I’d rather be in the garden, or reading a book, or painting, or laughing over coffee with a friend, or catching up on the housework, or enjoying the companionship of my beloved Traveling Partner, or walking miles on new trails, or visiting distant old friends, or sipping coffee in the garden listening to birdsong, or just about anything else besides swapping hours of my life and energy for a fucking paycheck… I’d have retired in 2001 (at 38), if I could have afforded to…

…Hell, I’d retire today, if this paycheck weren’t 100% required to pay the bills. 😂 I wouldn’t hesitate for a minute; I’ve got plenty of other things to do that bring me immense joy (they just don’t happen to pay the mortgage, gas, or for groceries).

My Traveling Partner pings me a greeting. It’ll be nice to work from home today. Maybe I’ll get some time in the garden on a break? A soft rain begins to fall (again) and I’m grateful to have worn my rain poncho. I chuckle to myself as I get to my feet. The clock is ticking and it’s time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, Healthy Living, joy, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Practices, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being

Monday Monday

August 26, 2024 //
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I beat the sun to the trailhead this morning by a few minutes. The morning is dark and peaceful before daybreak. I wait for enough light to see the trail before I walk.

The distant glow of the human experience doesn’t cast enough light to see by.

Yesterday was good. We got a lot done (together, as a family). The whole weekend was busy and productive. I got most of what was on my list finished. I feel a certain sense of accomplishment from that. The work involved, in this case, was 100% to do with my Traveling Partner’s comfort and refinements and quality of life improvements to his personal space. Comfort, ease, and accessibility matter, and we all worked together to complete projects towards this end (some of which had been planned nearly four years ago). It was satisfying work.

I promised myself at the start of the weekend that I would make time for something creative and that I would do at least one thing for myself, that wasn’t any sort of common domestic chore. I managed to live up to that commitment to myself, late Sunday evening, finally, after my feet were too sore to keep standing on them. No new paintings, but I did open my pastel case and carefully placed new pastels into their places, enjoying the displayed colors and giving myself over to artistic contemplation for a little while before calling it a night. It’s not much, but it was time spent on my own needs, my own way. Enough.

… Daybreak comes, and soon enough light to walk the trail…

It gets light so much later now. I breathe in the cool morning air. Fall is coming. There may yet be some very hot days ahead, but the days are definitely getting shorter, the mornings cooler, and the season is changing. Noisy trucks crossing the parking lot headed towards the construction site on the other side remind me this is a work day. (Fucking hell, humans, do you really have to make so g’damned much noise all the fucking time?)

A new day, a new chance to begin again.

I get my boots on, grab my cane, and head out. A new day is dawning. In practical terms, I know where this trail I’m walking will lead me, but in metaphorical terms, the “trail” ahead of me is a mystery, unfolding ahead of me, each new moment truly new and only revealed to me as I live the moment. There’s a lot of comfort and delight in that notion (for me). No reason to anticipate disaster, chaos, or pain; the future is not known. No exceptions. I breathe, exhale, and relax and start down the trail, eyes wide with wonder.

There’s a low mist clinging to the ground over the meadow, near the river beyond the trees. The air is fresh and sweet, and for the moment the morning is quiet as the sunrise begins. It’s enough to live this gentle moment. It’s a good time to begin again.

This moment is enough.

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Categories Allegories, art and the artist, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being

Playing Catch Up

February 5, 2024 //
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My commute into the city this morning was pleasant and uneventful. I got gas. Got coffee. Arrived at the office a bit early – and that proved to have real value, since I’d managed to forget to slip my office fob and key into my coat pocket on my way out of the house! I didn’t lose my head over it – it wasn’t even a particularly stressful moment; I had the presence of mind to think to check with the building concierge and was able to check out a key and fob temporarily, to let myself in. (Being first on site has its downsides. lol) Turned out to be just as unremarkable as it sounds.

I sat down to my computer and skimmed my email, and Slack notifications, and answered the most time-sensitive items straight away, then went to make coffee – only to discover that the weekend cleaning crew had jammed the door on the coffee machine, so… no fancy machine-made coffee this morning. I’m drinking instant. LOL I’m not too proud for that, and hey, it reminds me how fortunate I truly am, so I sip my instant coffee quite contentedly as I catch up on emails and whatnot that piled up over the days I was out of the office. Easy. Routine. Within minutes I’m sufficiently caught up for the day to feel like an absolutely ordinary Monday. Win.

It’s hard to measure the impact of anxiety on a day that begins with “catching up” after being out of the office. I can remember a time when my unmanaged anxiety would have had me spun up before I ever sat down to look over my email, and prone to reactively responding without thoroughly reviewing whole threads to see what had already been well-supported, eventually spending some notable portion of an entire week aggressively pounding out replies to things via email that might have been better handled (and more skillfully) after a moment of real consideration, and maybe a pause to reflect, instead of churning out new replies to haphazard earlier replies, and breathlessly dashing from meeting to meeting feeling like I was on the edge of losing my mind. That’s no way to live (or work), and certainly tends to undermine any restorative restful recreational hours that had preceded the shitstorm of “catching up”. It can be done more gently, and with greater presence and thoughtfulness. 😀 So… that’s what I do now. lol

It took me about an hour to fully catch up from taking a long weekend. Not too bad. I end the hour with a thorough understanding of what I missed while I was out, and what new action items are on my plate. My time is planned. My work feels supported. I know where I need to put my attention, now. This feels pretty comfortable.

…And all that in an hour after a long weekend…

The weekend was lovely and restful. The homecoming was comfortable, and warm, and welcoming, and I feel very loved (I hope my Traveling Partner does, too). I’m looking forward to ending the work day and maybe cooking up a stir fry after work, or some other properly home-cooked healthy meal. I feel refreshed and restored, and full of energy (at least for now, at the start of the work day). I sip my coffee and smile, hoping my Traveling Partner is getting the rest he needs.

The sun rises on a gray rainy day. The sky lightens to a soft featureless pale gray, and rain spatters the office windows. “Nothing to see here.” I think to myself. I sigh and think back to the sea breezes and waves, and the gulls floating on the air currents just beyond the balcony. It already seems “so long ago”. I laugh at my mortal foolishness, and begin again.

The sun setting on a lovely day.
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Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Practices, The Art of Being, winter

Be Careful What You Wish For…

October 5, 2020 //
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I’d settled into work for the day, with a reminder to myself to phone the contractor handling the repair work (for the recent water damage). Having heard nothing for more than a week (again), it seemed wise to reach out pro-actively and see what could be delaying the work, and maybe get it scheduled. I felt very grown-up to be so on top of things on a Monday…

…Yeah…

So, just as I was preparing some routine work for follow-up with key stakeholders, fingers flying across my keyboard, I heard the doorbell. A package? So early? (I bet you know where this one is heading!) Yep. Contractors. Here to do dry wall. Wtf?? Nothing on my calendar… nothing coordinated with me… no follow-up since materials were picked. What. The. Fuck.

My Traveling Partner was wakened by the door bell. Hadn’t even had his coffee. My studio and the adjacent room were not ready for contractors to do work; I’d moved a bunch of stuff while my stepson was visiting. Paintings. Computer equipment. Paperwork. Book shelving complete with books. So, I did the only obvious thing… I smiled and welcomed the contractors in after alerting my partner they were here to work. I moved stuff out of their way. I did my best to keep my shit together while my work space was disrupted yet again. Fucking hell.

Things got moved. Including me; I’m in my partner’s game room, working. Whatever. It works, and I greatly appreciate having a partner who is flexible and quick-thinking. I managed to shed minimal tears over generally being faced with further upheaval. Win.

…Now all that’s left is to begin again. 😉

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, art and the artist, autumn, Brain Injury, Frustration, gratitude, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights