Archives for posts with tag: savoring each moment

I stepped out of the office into the sunshine still feeling the weight of work on my shoulders, and clogging my thoughts. I stopped, just stopped, right there in front of the entryway, and stood. I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, letting my shoulders relax, and looking into the azure autumn sky.

A beautiful blue change of perspective.

A beautiful blue change of perspective.

I decided to take a longer route home around and through the park, enjoying the changing colors as the afternoon sky began to deepen, taking on qualities that would soon become twilight. I didn’t hurry; it isn’t really far, and I would beat sunset home by quite a bit. There is nearly always time to linger, and savor life.

Enjoying the colors.

Enjoying the colors.

There is no rush.

Lingering.

Lingering.

No rush at all.

Savoring life.

Savoring life.

I eventually made my way home. A lovely walk on an autumn afternoon, listening to peeping frogs and birdsong, and the shuff-shuff of leaves beginning to accumulate in dry drifts until the next rainstorm as I kick them aside to watch them fly, a childhood bit of fun I still enjoy greatly.

These beautiful moments aren’t fancy, or exotic, or rare, or complicated – but they are extraordinarily lovely, reliably sweet and satisfying, and fill me with a sense of joy and love. Simple, sure – and mine. That’s enough. ūüôā

I slept very deeply through the night, and woke to the insistent beeping of the alarm in a state of serious confusion. First, I wasn’t sure what the beeping was. I also thought it was Saturday. Oh, right – Friday. No…wait… I started to get up, and wobbled with a moment of vertigo, and the awareness of arthritis pain. I sat down abruptly, dizzy, and waited a moment before trying the whole thing again – and now pretty sure it wasn’t Saturday, or Friday, but not sure what day it actually is as I lurch toward the bathroom stiffly.

Minutes later, I’m at least pretty sure it is a work day, and although I am sorting through things and getting my bearings, it is¬†some additional time later before I am¬†clear that it is Wednesday, definitely a work day, and I start to feel more or less actually awake. I have the nagging feeling I am still not on track…a certain sense that something is missing… a shower, yoga, meditation…what could be missing? I wander sort of randomly through my small apartment, puzzled. Standing in the open patio doorway, feeling the morning air filter in from the pre-dawn darkness, just breathing and taking it all in is when I notice… no coffee. I mean, not yet. I haven’t made it, is what I’m saying.

I haven’t been awake all that long, it’s entirely reasonable that I don’t have coffee in front of me, at the moment I realize the lack. It is nonetheless reassuring to put that ‘something’s missing’ feeling to rest. The last couple mornings I have felt a bit more sluggish and slow to wake than usual. This morning was more intense still. I wonder for a moment what’s up with that, and wonder about the changing season and day length, and how much it may affect such things. Over time I have learned that one good response to confusion, particularly upon waking, is to slow down and take my time getting my bearings – avoiding¬†making important decisions that require¬†immediate action is a good idea, too. lol I eventually sort things out, given the time, and patience with myself. (I’m a bit disappointed it isn’t already Friday…but since I have plans after work, I’m also quite pleased not to have missed out on Wednesday!)

Last night was quite a treat. I sip my coffee (now prepared, and in front of me) and linger over my recollections of the cherished time spent with my traveling partner. He will indeed be traveling soon, and I won’t see him for days – may not hear much from him either, knowing he will be quite busy seeing the world from another vantage point. I don’t tend to take that personally, or worry overmuch when he is away. He’s a grown, capable man with a great deal of experience, prepared for most things. I could while away some unpleasant hours stressed out about the statistical chances of plane crashes, or violent crime, but it’s not a healthy pass time, and quite unproductive;¬†whatever the far-reaching odds of misfortune, in real life generally it is more likely than not that everything will be just fine. He’s very considerate, when he travels, about things like notes letting me know he arrived here or there safely, so there’s not much to worry about. Hell – in any worst case scenario, I always come back to the awareness that for each of us our mortal time is too brief, anyway, and known to be finite. I let my mind be at ease, and welcome him home with joy every time he is away. There are verbs involved, and I prefer to choose other verbs than ‘panicking’ ‘worrying’ or ‘creating needless drama’.

Did I mention last night was lovely? It was. Quite. I am still smiling and wrapped in love. In the background, my thoughts continue to linger over the time we spent together.

Autumn rose hips.

Autumn rose hips.

Autumn is quickly approaching. There are early sightings all around, already: rose hips turning orange and red, leaves here and there beginning to yellow, fall-flowering wild flowers beginning to bloom, and small forest creatures working to pack on the winter weight for the coming colder seasons. Fall is my favorite, the crisp cold mornings wake me so completely, and the scent of fireplace smoke mingling with late season barbecue grilling is a delight on an autumn afternoon that begins warm, but quickly cools to an uncomfortable chill. Office conversations and meeting openers will soon shift from camping trips to football season…

I continue to sip my coffee. It’s very good this morning, and I am enjoying it before it can grow cold. I’ve got an Usher song stuck in my head this morning, but with the patio door open so early I am not inclined to put on the stereo; waking my neighbors to Usher¬†before 6:00 am seems more than a little inconsiderate, so I won’t be doing that. It does not change the music in my head to enjoy the quiet of morning quietly. I can listen to the stereo at a pleasantly loud volume after work, dancing through whatever chores remain to be done this evening, and that will be enough.

Enough.

Enough.

It is, in fact, a morning of ‘enough’ – enough sleep, enough time to really wake up, enough of the simple resources of adult life that put hot coffee in front of me with such ease, enough to smile about, enough to begin the day with contentment and joy… simply and entirely enough. [Your results may vary.] The morning seems so saturated with sufficiency that it seems enough to mention that it is enough to be here, now, smiling. Additional words might be superfluous, as with the excess of buying ‘one more of those..’ when more can neither be used, nor enjoyed.

Today is a good day for ‘enough’, and as is so often the case with moments of confusion, the confusion I began with didn’t last – which, as it turns out, is also enough. Today is a good day to use my words, and also to embrace the quiet when the words run out. Today is a good day to enjoy things as they are. Today is a good day for love, and lovers, and a good day to connect with friends. Today is a good day to breathe deeply, and take great delight in small moments that feel wonderful, filling up on what feels good in each¬†moment, however fleeting. Savoring this life, these moments, is sort of the point of having them. Certainly, enjoying them changes my experience of the world.

My coffee is hot and tasty, and potentially ‘the best cup of coffee ever’, although realistically that only tells me that I am enjoying it very much right now, relative to the memory of other coffees, at other moments. The move took me out of reach of the very excellent espresso machine in the very excellent and spacious kitchen. My wee kitchen here at home lacks the counter space for such a thing, and I shopped and studied, and auditioned coffees around town made this way and that, and decided I would enjoy mastering the ‘pour over’ method of making coffee.

The first couple of days in the new place, I got by on instant coffee, which seemed fairly commonplace for moving and didn’t disturb me, although the coffee itself was quite ordinary, and not especially pleasant. It was, in fact, the sort of coffee that people who don’t drink coffee use to justify how awful coffee drinking is. lol I still savored the moment, each morning, when I paused for my coffee, sometimes enjoying it on the patio, bare toes wiggling in the cool morning air, and listening contentedly to the birds, or watching the squirrels play. The moment itself is not truly about the coffee. ūüôā

Choices come in many forms.

Choices come in many forms.

When the burr grinder, drip cone, and gooseneck kettle arrived it was late in the afternoon on a Sunday – generally a poor choice of day and time for a coffee, since drinking coffee in the afternoon generally affects my sleep quite a lot…but Monday would be a holiday, and I had no plans aside from continuing to get moved in…so…coffee!! I ever-so-carefully reviewed the steps, and then followed them…eager…hopeful…excited… Would it be everything that the fragrant, smooth, exotic pour overs I had recently savored at downtown cafes and the farmer’s market seemed to be? Would it be difficult to master this new skill? Would the experience – and the resulting beverage – satisfy my taste and my aesthetic? Would it be ‘enough’?

The first sip was quite excellent Рand each coffee I have made since then has seemed so. I enjoy the relaxed precision of the process itself, and making a coffee is now more involved, requiring me to be more aware of the process itself Рand that too feels quite satisfying.

I could have been more frugal, with a drip coffee machine, perhaps, and buying coffee already ground. I’d get by on that, and likely find myself content to have my morning coffee, regardless. I ¬†considered a French press – and perhaps that is an option for another day, for making a larger quantity of coffee to share with friends or lovers….I enjoy a good French press coffee, too. That’s the thing, isn’t it? Good self-care, and the tender act of savoring each pleasant moment life offers me isn’t truly about which practice, what method, or the sort of moment, is it? This morning it seems clearer to me that it is about the experiences, themselves, and the act of¬†savoring¬†them, most of all; it is the living of life that is what matters most, and that I embrace my experience awake, aware, and with a sense of perspective. Or…something. Perhaps it is simply about an excellent cup of coffee, that I made for me, myself, on a lovely quiet morning, after a good night’s sleep?

This morning, in spite of waking in a great deal of pain, I feel more settled into new routines. I feel comfortable and content – and relaxed. I woke with a smile that has lingered through my shower, and remains, hovering over my coffee. I look around and see living space filled with my choices, and that meets my needs, nurturing this fragile vessel, and supporting the growth of the being within it. The smile makes sense; I am taking good care of me.

Today is a good day to make choices that support my needs over time. Today is a good day for smiles that linger, and a feeling of contentment. Today is a good day for sufficiency, and the pleasure in simple things. Today is a good day to change my world. (There are still verbs involved…and your results may vary.)