Archives for posts with tag: Monday Monday

I am awake. I’m groggy and clumsy with sleepiness I haven’t been able to shake off yet. Initially, I wasn’t sure what woke me from my deep sound sleep. I rarely get such sleep. I struggled to sit up, to disentangle myself from the hose of my CPAP mask. When I sat up the room was dark. What the hell woke me? I had a vague recollection of hearing my name called, and trying to understand what was being said to me.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

I got up, dressed, and left the house, still wondering what woke me. My Traveling Partner messaged me on the way out. It wasn’t an apology for waking me. It was information about his poor sleep through the night. Context? The timing suggests he did indeed wake me, and it’s pretty close to my usual time, anyway. I shrug it off, yawn, and pull out of the driveway. Maybe my walk in the fresh Spring air will wake me more thoroughly?

… Sucks that he had a bad night, though…

I sat stupidly at the trailhead, in my car, for rather a long time before I was clearheaded enough to recall that taking actual steps would be required. I just wasn’t awake. Once I noticed I was “stalled”, I grabbed my cane and set off down the trail, my mind still quite foggy.

It’s a beginning.

Down the trail, past blooming cherry trees, and tall oaks. Past vineyards with tall green grass growing between the rows. Along the creek and the strip of forest growing along the bank, I walk listening to the loud calls of the robins and softer calls of a variety of small brown birds. Eventually, I reach my halfway point and stop for a moment. Mostly awake by this point, I sit and write, meditate, and reflect. New day, new challenges…

… Lovely weekend, now over…

It is a Monday. No dread, really, but little enthusiasm, either. I’m here. I’m ready to do the things, but the day ahead doesn’t fulfill any particular purpose of my own. It’s a job. I do the work, collect a paycheck, and live my life. I chuckle to myself, without merriment. Humanity could do better than this.

I sigh to myself. The air tastes sweet and I wish I were headed for some destination, and not to a desk and a digital workspace. I’d rather be at my easel or in my garden. I’d rather be sleeping in or drinking too much coffee at some sidewalk cafe in some forgotten little beach town somewhere, or hanging out with friends beside a crackling fire. This is not that time and I let it go. Clinging to some other moment or some desired moment that is not now robs me of the chance to savor this one. I smile and look at the many signs of Spring around me. A carpet of tiny yellow flowers in the grass beckons me to sit awhile… The clock is ticking, though, and I’ll soon have to begin again. It is, after all, a Monday.

One moment of many, insignificant by itself.

I get to my feet with a sigh, a yawn, and a sneeze, and turn to head back down the trail the way I came. It’s time.

It’s early. A little later than usual, but it makes sense; I’m trying to shift my usual waking time to something a bit later. Even a small change can add to my anxiety, and this morning it does. I’m hopeful that I managed to slip out quietly, without waking anyone. No one needs my anxiety to be the thing they wake up to!

A full moon peeks out from behind the trees.

I breathe, exhale, and relax, and lace up my boots to walk the local trail I favor, but I arrived to a lot of noise and bright light at the trailhead. There was an event here over the weekend, and a crew has come to clean up. Well, shit… That’s less than ideally peaceful, eh? I move the car to the other side of the parking and walk to my starting point from there, well out of the way of the work crew.

… Every day we make so many small seeming choices intended to get us to a goal, or to achieve some particular result…

The morning is chilly, not yet “cold”, but hinting at colder mornings still ahead. Daybreak arrives in the usual way. Blue sky shows through dark clouds as the sky lightens, and I head down the trail.

The camera makes things at this hour bluer than they seem to my eyes.

My head is stuffy when I reach my halfway point and stop for a moment. Something in the air doesn’t agree with me, perhaps? I’m glad I stuffed some tissues in my pocket as I left the house this morning.

My anxiety has come along for this morning’s walk. It’s “only” background anxiety to do with the new job, I think. Experience tells me it will pass, and to care for myself. Self-care defuses a lot of anxiety. (I silently acknowledge that sometimes self-care causes me more anxiety, setting up a brief back-and-forth with myself over whether that is the case now, and if not why mention it at all?) Anxiety is a liar, and aside from that, anxiety is also a bit of a self sabotaging drama queen. I laugh uncomfortably to myself, and fill my lungs deeply, then exhale slowly, not quite a sigh, definitely an expression of… something. I’m a little annoyed with myself, I guess. It was a good weekend. The job feels like a promising opportunity and a good fit to my skills. What’s to be anxious over?

Change is. One of the results, sometimes, is anxiety. Feeling routines and my “sense of things” being disrupted is uncomfortable, sometimes even upsetting. I feel unsure and uneasy and reluctant to trust. I feel vigilant and as if I’m waiting for that metaphorical other shoe to drop. It’s a little ridiculous, but the awareness brings no relief. I find some relief in meditation. I find some relief in routines. I finding some relief in the distraction of a sunrise on a gray morning as summer begins to turn to fall. Little things matter. I’m grateful when my anxiety begins to ease.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I sit quietly, grateful to see another sunrise. Grateful for another job opportunity. Grateful for good friends, loving family, and skilled friendly colleagues. The gratitude pushes aside the anxiety, and sets me up to enjoy the day ahead. The anxiety, this morning, is dysfunctional, a broken indicator light on life’s dashboard. I chuckle to myself thinking about the Parable of the Mechanic for a moment. This morning my mortal physical body feels more “hoopty” than sports car, for sure. I’m fighting arthritis pain along with the anxiety, and it’s possible that my arthritis is actually causing quite a bit of the anxiety in the first place. Definitely adding to it.

I sigh to myself and take something for my pain.

It’s a new day. Anxious or not, I’ve got shit to do that won’t wait around for my best mood or greatest comfort. Sometimes the path we walk is paved, level, and well lit, sometimes it is rocky, uneven, and dangerously pocked with potholes or littered with obstacles. Sometimes a distracting “side quest” is truly what matters most. The way forward isn’t always clear. We’ve just got to go ahead and get on with things, walk our path, and fulfill our “destiny”, if such a thing exists at all. If it doesn’t? Well, the journey is the destination, after all, and not walking our own path isn’t really an option. Our every choice, every moment, is another step along the way.

I think about a cookbook, a map, a menu. I think about a miscalibrated scale. Metaphors worth considering. Topics for another day. For now, I hear the clock ticking, and it feels like time to begin again. The path ahead won’t walk itself – and it’s the only way forward from here, now, to… wherever it leads. I smile to myself and watch the sun rise on this new day.

Where does this path lead? Choose and find out. Walk on.

It’s a routine Monday morning, more or less. Small details deviating from the expected norms don’t change that. The weekend was strange and somewhat unfulfilling, and already feels like part of a distant past. I shrug off the bits that seem lacking and hold on to what worked.

“Stormy Sunset”  7″x 9.5″, 2024

I didn’t get as much painting done as I expected of myself. I found my heart elsewhere, over and over again, gazing out over the sea thinking of long gone friends and loved ones and letting unshed tears finally fall. It was a most peculiar and deeply emotional weekend, and although it was cut short, I was happy to see my Traveling Partner and to return safely home.

… Funny how reality can veer off our oh so carefully made plans…

I hear my partner’s voice in my memory, “I hope you got what you needed, at least…?” Did I? I don’t know – probably? I definitely needed something. To reconnect with myself more deeply, I think? I got that…or something very like it. Good enough. Sometimes it’s necessary to accept sufficiency and be content with it.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s a Monday. A work day. The ringing in my ears is fucking ridiculous. The pain I’m in from my arthritis is enormously distracting and I am uncomfortable. Still, in spite of all that, I feel okay. It’s funny how much it matters to me that my partner was so concerned to ensure I have room to paint at home. He missed me greatly and doesn’t want me to feel that I have to leave to paint. I feel loved and appreciated, which matters more than the pain I’m in.

I sit with my thoughts awhile longer, even though it’s already time to begin again.

This morning is a routine Monday morning. It seemed to start too early. It feels utterly ordinary in every possible way. I’m on my “second coffee”, but only because I made the first one, and as I turned to walk to my desk, it slipped from my hand, spilling everywhere. Quite a bit of it into the sink that was near me as I turned, a bit on the carpet, a bit on my jeans. Just spilled coffee. I mopped up and made a fresh cup. I was sitting down before I really noticed that nothing about the experience caused me any particular alarm or distress. I’m fine. The morning is fine. The coffee I ended up with… also fine. Just a Monday morning, nothing to see here.

…There’s something to be learned from this…

I glance over the industry-related news linked in a feed in a work channel. I just skim the headlines for anything properly “new”. Nothing to see here; it’s all retreads and updates. Click bait. I look over my list of tasks, projects, and work activities. Pretty routine. In a very real sense, “nothing to see here” either. I breathe. Sip my coffee. Put on some music in the background that I promptly stop paying any attention to.

A pounding rain begins to fall on the skylights overhead. It sounds like thunderous applause. lol I grin, enjoying the thought of thunderous applause over an ordinary Monday morning coffee. The notion is ridiculous and this delights me. My mind wanders through thoughts of heroes and villains, and paintings yet unpainted. My Traveling Partner pings me a good morning emoji and my morning feels somehow completed by that.

I remind myself of a couple errands that need to be run, and then I begin again.

Today is a unique new perspective, a new start, a fresh beginning – and a Monday. Mondays get a raw deal. It’s not the fault of the day that it is the beginning of most work week’s, the hangover after the party that was the weekend, and the perpetual every-seven-day buzzkill. We made most of that up. We could do Monday differently, with some practice. 🙂 True on a Monday, true of a great many other circumstances, too. I sip my coffee, hearing jazz through the walls; my Traveling Partner is enjoying a Monday.

My work day will start soon. For now, it’s me, this cup of coffee, and this pleasant Monday morning. I enjoyed a walk through the neighborhood before dawn, getting some exercise, and appreciating again how much variety there is in the houses. I pass by one or two neighbors preparing to leave for work happening elsewhere. It’s been more than a year since I’ve had to commute to an office. I marvel at that, as I walk along; the walk in the mornings feels a bit like “heading to work” each day, although it’s a loop around the neighborhood of about a mile before returning home. Safe, convenient, but very predictable. I’m grateful for the walk on level pavement, though. It may be “predictable”, but it puts me at little risk of injury, which is a win, and I’m still in cell phone range (so my Traveling Partner needn’t worry).

This particular Monday begins with a lovely sunrise.

The gentle start to the day seems promising. I sip my coffee thinking about the day ahead. An errand to run. A task to complete. The work involved in the work day, itself. I think about “fueling the machine” – maybe a midday break, and a nice scramble for lunch? My thoughts drift back to the weekend. If I had finished my writing yesterday morning, I’d be posting something very different. It was a morning with some challenges, but the day was splendid. The entire weekend was a pleasant one, in my recollection. The sour notes in the music are lost in the beauty of the larger symphony. I’m okay with that. (There has to be some upside to having memory issues! 😀 )

The pandemic has prevented us from socializing much. We’ve been very strict with ourselves about it. Only two friends (and our son) had been to the new house before this past weekend (other than some socially distant contractors) – and in one case, we ended up catching colds from the visit, which discouraged any further visiting with people, frankly. Being sick sucks enough to practice social distancing if it means not having head colds. That’s my thought, anyway. My Traveling Partner invited friends up for dinner and hanging out. It was lovely – and I do miss entertaining. I was pretty emotionally exhausted from the surplus of human contact by the end of the evening, but it was a lot of fun, and a good night’s rest readied me for a new week.

I guess what I’m making a point of going on about is that sometimes it’s necessary to explicitly make room to succeed – perhaps differently than I planned. A challenging morning can become a splendid day, and lingering pleasant memories. “Monday” doesn’t have to be predictably awful. We have a crazy number of choices to make, every day, and the ones we leave “on autopilot” sometimes don’t leave room for new, better, outcomes. I remind myself to put myself on “pause” long enough, often enough, to consider my choices with care, and to leave room for success. I remind myself to consider what matters most, more often, and to choose my actions more deliberately, with greater care, eyes wide open, and a beginner’s mind.

Paths, moments, beginnings, journeys; choose your metaphor.

…So…here it is…Monday. 🙂 It’s time to begin again.