Archives for posts with tag: rainy days

It’s been an interesting weekend of pain and contentment. It’s not a combination that comes to mind when I think of how I’d like to spend a weekend, but generally it’s been okay. Momentary tears today, just small frustrations that overwhelm me briefly, and they don’t linger the way the rain did, yesterday. The pain is what it is, and it could be quite a lot worse. I am learning to be with my physical pain just in this moment here, rather than pulling together all the threads of pain in the past, and anticipated (dreaded) pain in the future; I don’t hurt less, objectively, but the shift in perspective limited to pain-right-now seems to result in more ability to manage the pain I have, and endure the pain I can’t ease.

I spent most of yesterday relaxing and listening to the rain fall, no music, no video, no book…just the rain falling, patio door open to the sound of it. I love the rain. I enjoyed a nice hike in the morning, yesterday, too, before the drizzle became rain showers that lasted the rest of the day. I thoroughly enjoyed the day.

A photograph does not convey the feeling of the experience.

A photograph does not convey the feeling of the experience.

While enjoying the rain, I noticed some of my roses still blooming, and cut them to put in a small vase before the rain did them in. It’s a small thing, but I enjoy my roses greatly, and seeing the wee bud vase filled with miniature roses from my patio garden makes me smile every time I see them. I make a point of looking at them often.

The last autumn roses from my patio garden.

The last autumn roses from my patio garden.

Today the sunshine has broken through the clouds. Other than a trip for groceries, I haven’t been particularly productive today; it’s the pain. I’m okay with slowing down and taking care of me, and after giving the matter some thought, I adjust my thinking and plan ahead to have brunch with a friend, and get help moving the one heavy item that I need to put into storage before the holidays. I walk over to the storage unit with a tape measure and figure out what/where and picked up some hooks for hanging some things in the storage unit, while I was out for groceries. I’m excited to bring even more order and beauty to my wee home by moving things into storage that I don’t need day-to-day (the A/C in the winter months, for example). Order – and room; I measured. I lose about 10 sq ft of floor space just to paintings stacked against the wall here and there! This is not a big enough place to waste space that way.

Yesterday was so different. I hurt, but the focus of the day was most definitely on the rain, and the serene contentment and joy of listening to the rain fall. Today, it’s hard to tear my attention away from my pain. My traveling partner and I had planned to hang out this weekend; it didn’t work out. Pain sucks. There will be other opportunities, of course…but not one of them is ‘now’. lol I’m not moping over it. I take time to distract myself with one thing and another.

I find myself wrapped in gratitude; things could be so much worse. I spent some minutes considering the many ways in which I can clearly recognize specifically how things are better right now than they once would have been, under similar circumstances, in similar pain. I am not really surprised how often thoughts of my traveling partner or something we shared surfaced in my recollection; this extraordinary love we share is a thread that glitters brightly in my life’s tapestry, and our love has certainly been part of this healing journey. I’m a big fan of love, as a result, and ferociously loyal to this particular human being who is my traveling partner; I’m not always sure how good that is for me, and I occasionally lose perspective. lol

See, here’s the thing about love; I hurt, and it matters less than being able to also say “I love”.

Be love.

Be love.

It’s a nice enough morning, I guess. I slept rather restlessly, woke a couple of times, and the alarm seemed to come too soon. The headache of yesterday is little more than a dull reminder of my human frailties, lurking in the background this morning. My arthritis is kicking my ass, though.  As I sit and contemplate the imminent dawn, a downpour begins, hammers on the skylights, and passes on. I feel a little cross and out of sorts, without reason – unless pain is reason enough. Is it? lol

I’m okay. Neither wildly excited about the day, nor truly discontent; I sip my latte unenthusiastically and watch the minutes tick by quietly. My thoughts lack focus or theme. I am letting my consciousness coast, and observing the comings and goings of my thoughts.  This is, as yet, a raw and unformed day; it could go a number of ways, and there’s no obvious tendency or trend, yet. This, by itself, is very interesting… I’m not sure I’ve ever been aware of this sort of moment before.

This morning, each breath is a beginning, and a pause, a moment of its own. I wonder where the day will take me?

Wherever the journey leads, it is mine.

Wherever the journey leads, it is mine.

Welcome to Spring!

Spring Flowers

Spring Flowers

The rain fell more aggressively this morning than I expected from the gentle patter on the skylights before dawn.  I enjoyed the life lesson as I walked to work; a lesson about raincoats, freewill, and adulthood.   It was delivered wrapped in a memory, a delightful enough gift, on a spring morning.

I walked in the rain, frustratedly fussing with the hood of my raincoat, and irritably noting with some amusement that somehow the designer had failed to understand that a hood might be more effective if it were to stay up over my head when a breeze comes up.  Each time I tugged it back up, something nagged my consciousness until a wee crystal clear memory of actual childhood reached my awareness – to my great delight (I don’t have many).  I recalled a rainy morning, leaving home – specifically the glass vestibule of an apartment building – to walk to the bus stop to go to school.  My hood fell down, I pulled it up. Down. Up. Down. Up. Then the clear recollection of my thought in the moment; a sort of ‘When I’m a grown up, I will not wear a hood at all!’ kind of thought.  I grinned to myself at the recollection of petulant childhood frustration with a world that seemed then to seriously favor ‘grown ups’.  Being ‘a grown up’ myself now, more or less, I understand that the reality of it has often failed to live up to my childhood expectations…and I walked on considering that.

When I was younger than adult, I lived with a fantasy that someday, when I was ‘a grown up’, I would live my life based on my own will alone. I would choose my apartment, my job, my friends, my life style – I would live entirely based on my own values, my own desires, and my free will to choose.  It sounded beyond exciting – it also sounded like the only possible outcome.  Adulthood and I did reach some sort of wary meeting place, at about 18 years for me, and my ‘menu’ of choices seemed immediately to be unexpectedly limited by my resources, my opportunities, choices I had already made, and a whole assortment of ‘have to’ ‘supposed to’ and ‘need to’ things that I didn’t anticipate being obstacles.  The whole mess was frustrating and vaguely disappointing.  This morning, though, it flooded back to me with the Spring rain – the promise inherent in becoming adult, the potential in the very real opportunities of choice, itself, and of free will.  I laughed out loud, and let the breeze blow back my hood. I grinned into the dawn through rain spattered glasses, and my stride relaxed and became natural and free; and I gave myself the further gift – and respect – of choosing to live up to my own values and pleasures, and disregarded the rain, the hood, and any sense of propriety or decorum regarding ‘keeping my clothes nice’.  My walk to work stopped being an internal list of reminders about work, life,  or concern about damp socks, damp hair, or rain drops tickling the back of my neck, and became the pure joy of experiencing a beautiful, rainy, spring morning – and here I am.  For the moment, whole and happy and content to be human, content to be female, and content to be ‘a grown up’, all of which seems quite simple and natural having remembered that now that I’m an adult, I do get to live my life based on my own values, on my own choices, and that those choices are only limited by the limits I acknowledge and accept for myself.  A nice reminder – some internal spring cleaning, of a sort, and a welcome re-assessment of small frustrations in life.

So, here I am on a Wednesday, on the Vernal Equinox; damp socks, damp hair, and for the time being an unbeatably buoyant feeling of contentment with this fragile vessel, and it’s precious contents.

Welcome to Spring, indeed.