It’s still quite dark. Daybreak will be soon. It is one of those moments that feels hopeful and filled with potential. I sit with that feeling, savoring it, and enjoying the experience of existing.
… Sometimes that’s enough…
As I pulled into the parking lot at the trailhead, I saw another car parked on the far side, at the edge of the lights. A man was laying on top of the car, looking up at the sky. Not the sort of thing I see, most days, it is unusual to the point of being noteworthy, most especially on a rainy cloudy morning – there are no stars visible to gaze upon. I park well-away from him, partly to avoid disturbing his peace, partly to avoid disturbing my own. Peace is hard enough to find, right now, and I’m happy to be considerate of someone’s small success when I happen upon it.
The morning smells of rain. The trail is still wet with rain that fell during the night. The ground on either side is squishy, muddy, and slick. I don’t mind any of that, but I’m glad I wore my fleece over my sweater, and that I carried my rain poncho with me (handy for creating a dry place to sit). I look into the darkness of the trees at the edge of the creek. There’s nothing really to see just yet, it’s too dark. Looking across the vineyard, back toward the parking, I see the lights spaced regularly, creating mysterious shapes among the oaks along the trail on that side. There are no real mysteries here, just illusions created by patterns of light and darkness. True of a lot of circumstances. I sit with that thought awhile.
I’m honestly okay right now, for most values of okay. That’s something. I can’t change the world with a single decision in any detectable way, and certainly life, more broadly, is not “all about me”… but…me being okay, myself, right now, is a good enough starting point for most journeys. Definitely this one. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I turn my attention to my own subjective experience. I feel this moment, and allow it to be enough. I need this peace. The chaos of the world won’t dissipate because I’m staring it the face, neither will it worsen if I’m not scrambling to do something, say something, right fucking now. I’m not that important – few of us are. Even among the powerful, very few people are so significant that their moments drive the world, and of those who are? I have no direct influence over them, nor, frankly, do I have to allow them such influence over me. There is distance between us, and in that distance, I can find a moment of peace.
I breathe, exhale, and relax, sitting in quiet contentment on a weekday morning. I am grateful to be employed, and to mostly have my shit together, most of the time. It’s enough, generally speaking, and chasing more has rarely resulted in anything but stress and misery, for me. Exploring sufficiency has been more worthwhile and satisfying. (I’m not seeking to discourage your ambition; we are each walking our own path.) As it turns out, “enough” really is enough.
A sprinkle of rain begins falling. My mind wanders to dinner, later. I smile when I think about how much my Traveling Partner enjoys my cooking. I feel supported and appreciated when I think about the help I’ve been getting around the house lately, from both my beloved, and from the Anxious Adventurer. Without that help, I quickly exhaust myself trying to do everything, all the time. That exhaustion becomes enduring fatigue that undermines my emotional and physical wellness – and my ability to find peace. This is better. I remind myself to say “thank you” explicitly.
I sigh contentedly, as I stand and stretch. It’s a new day, although sunrise hasn’t yet happened. It’s only barely daybreak, but I walked a bit further this morning, and didn’t walk the short loop. It’ll be a longer walk back to the car… I think it’s already time to begin again.
… I found my peace out here on the trail. Where will you find yours?
Evening Light 