Archives for posts with tag: moving

I woke early, but not ridiculously so. I got up and dressed, hoping not to wake my Traveling Partner. We worked through the day, yesterday, moving things around and restoring order from chaos. Joyful work, but still work, and by the end of the evening we were both fatigued, in pain, and easily aggravated. I called it a night early, expecting to read awhile, but I quickly sank into an exhausted sleep.

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

We had a great day together yesterday, mostly. Fatigue and pain got in the way a couple times – very human. Today is a new day, and I am not clinging to yesterday’s grief; that’s generally a poor practice. (We become what we practice.)

The morning is quiet and very dark. I reach the local trail ahead of the sun. I decide to wait for the first hint of daybreak before I begin my walk. I’ve got my headlamp, but I’m not in any hurry. Even though it is Easter Sunday for many, there are no early morning events planned here (I checked before I chose this trail).

Yesterday, in the evening, I managed to hurt my knee somehow and managed little better than a slow painstaking limp, gripping my cane to steady myself through each painful step for the rest of the evening. The muscle running up the back of my thigh from the pit of my knee to my ass still hurts, but I’m not limping and for most values of “okay”, I’m okay. I’m just sore from the work of moving things around (and there is more yet to do).

I don’t personally enjoy the chaos of moving, and I’m grateful this is a very limited version of that experience. I’m delighted to have my space back, less so about the bangs and bruises of having my mental map suddenly destroyed. I laugh at myself for a moment, recognizing that as lasting consequences of brain damage go, it could be much worse that needing some time to rebuild routines and to restore a sense of object placement. This may also say something about my fondness for familiar walks and trails. I sit with that thought for a moment.

… Novelty is uncomfortable, but may be better for my cognitive health, long-term…

I sigh to myself as I recognize and acknowledge sore muscles. The walk will be good for me. I think about the day ahead. More to do, and today includes a bunch of basic housekeeping. I’ve been working from home more, which takes the pressure off the weekend, and let’s me spread things out more, and my Traveling Partner no longer requires full-time caregiving (barely any at all now), and has been resuming many household tasks he handled entirely before his injury. Fuck it’s good to have him back! … It’s still Sunday and there are still household chores to do. 😆

It’s funny, I had had it in mind to “put things back the way they were” when the Anxious Adventurer moved out… But things have changed, life has moved on, and that isn’t a useful solution in many cases. (I don’t think I have an accurate recollection to work from, either.) Change is. There are different paintings hanging in the library now, and my studio just “feels different”. I’m not even complaining or fighting it; it’s mostly better in obvious ways. There is room for further improvement and this is a choice opportunity for such things. I’ll relearn where everything is, all over again.

… And maybe even change it again, in favor of something better still…

I reflect (with some amazement and a whole lot of respect and admiration) on the way my Traveling Partner embraces the opportunity for change to completely change various elements of his work and creative spaces. I’m astonished by how little such things disrupt him. There’s a lot to learn from that.

I sit awhile longer reflecting on moves and moving and change. It’s a useful metaphor. My mind quickly wanders to art and painting and I am eager to make use of my studio, although it will see use as my office before then. Monday is almost here. I put that thought aside firmly. Neither Monday nor work need my attention today.

I look over the list of things yet to do. The sky has taken on a hint of deep dark blue. I can see the trail. Steps on a path are calling me. It’s time to begin again.

I am awake ridiculously early, for no obvious reason other than I apparently got enough sleep to be awake now. I have no emotional position on the matter of being awake at 4 am on a Sunday morning. I woke thinking perhaps it was quite late on Monday night and that I’d slept through the work day. I’m glad it is Sunday morning. So… in spite of the early hour, the morning starts in a good place. 😀

I woke in pain. My lower back is still aching from an unfortunately very comfortably (in the moment) placed small pillow yesterday evening that resulted in very poor positioning of my spine (although I didn’t feel it until later). I’m still dealing with the pain of my careless mistake. Reality works like that; it literally does not care – or account for – our opinions about good, bad, comfortable, uncomfortable, win, lose, best, worst – any of it. Reality simply is.

Our value judgements are as made up as a lot of the rest of our experience, and align to reality by varying degrees depending on our level of awareness, and willingness to recognize reality’s hard surfaces, sharp edges, and unexpected corners, when we could choose the softness of our dreams, and the soothing poetry of our internal narrative.

Very few people seem to actually want to live their lives awake and aware, present and engaged in this moment, here, now. Some people talking about being awake, awakening, and other such assorted verbiage for being more “on” than “off”, more clued in than clueless, are talking about other dreams, rather than being simply mindfully with what is (as much as our senses allow us to be). Some people use statements of awareness as accusations that others are less so. I have even read articles suggesting some people use basic mindfulness practices to distract themselves from life’s practical realities needing their attention. It is perhaps useful to avoid those pitfalls. I have no particular constructive solutions or suggestions to offer. Awareness is a fairly personal state of being. We are easily misled, sometimes by our own thinking, and it is tempting to think that our notions are a matter of “being awake” solely because the thinking is new, ours, or because few others share it. What isawake“, anyway?

This morning it is enough to distinguish sleeping from waking, and to consider this state of being literally awake sufficient to define the term. 🙂

It will be hours still before day break. I sip my coffee, relaxed, enjoying this moment without anxiety, stress, or weirdness. 4 am doesn’t have to be loaded with baggage, fear, stress, existential angst, or the residual emotional load from nightmares. It can be, and is, simply a moment. To be sure, it’s a moment I could be sleeping through, were circumstances different, but the circumstances are what they are – and I choose how I experience the moment. 🙂

Weekends seem short now, just two days, with firm borders of work days keeping them in place, like bookends. Making best use of the time seems to matter much more than it did only weeks ago. Today will be spent mostly on housekeeping, meditation, reading, playing my guitar… I can’t complain, that sounds like a great Sunday, to me. I’ll make a point of getting a good walk in sometime in the morning, after the sun is up; in only months this nearby trail won’t be so nearby – I may never walk it again once I move.

Oh good grief - not again?!

Oh good grief – not again?!

Moving is hard on me. Departures, leaving, breaking free, letting go, “never again”, endings generally just don’t feel as delightfully welcoming as beginnings. I had the thought last night that with regard to moving, if I were to look upon the process as a prolonged beginning, instead of a prolonged ending, perhaps it would feel different overall? Would I grieve less to view this move as a profound beginning, a delightful choice to be embraced, a unique adventure whose time has come? It seems a promising notion, and I decided to begin putting it to the test today, by beginning with a list of the small things that have been less than ideal, compromises of aesthetic, unsatisfying logistical necessities, things that haven’t worked well, or have continued to be problems yet to be solved. If nothing else, I expect it to reduce my level of attachment to this place, and these circumstances, and perhaps reduce the emotional baggage associated with moving. I guess I’ll find out once I do it. Practices, and practicing them, tend to work that way for me; they are an idea with intent before the verbs are put to work, and only in the practicing is the result evident. Sometimes it is necessary to practice regularly, continuously, frequently, and with some persistence (like meditation), others sort of “just happen” and continue on auto-pilot once I practice them a few times and find it a natural fit for who I am. My results definitely vary – they vary by practice, they vary by day, they vary by moment. I’m very human.

I get distracted by a favorite track on my playlist and lose my train of thought. Perhaps it is for the best? Some mornings I can continue to hit “enter” and start a new paragraph more or less indefinitely and find some hours later that I’ve got a few thousand words to cut down to size – and haven’t said much. Sometimes a distraction is helpful.

It is interesting to watch the sky through the open blinds of the studio window. When I sat down the sky seemed a milky shade of some sort of orange, pale and peculiar, and the pine just beyond the patio was silhouetted boldly. It was quite striking. I look up now, and more than hour later (less than two), all is darkness without feature or form, nothing to see of the sky, the pine, or the imminent dawn besides some distant streetlights shining through more distant trees, invisible on the horizon. It is strange that the sky seems darker now than when I woke, much earlier. Reality does not care what I think about it. Hasn’t ever cared. Isn’t likely to care in the future. Reality is. 🙂

Today is a good day to be here, now. Today is a good day to embrace change. Today is a good day to practice practices, to be, and to become. It’s time to face a blank page.

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