Archives for posts with tag: self-reflection

It is an ordinary morning, begun in the usual way, following a night of very sound and restful sleep. I woke feeling merry and grateful to have a comfortable bed and a partner with the thoughtfulness to adjust the thermostat when the weather changes.

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

All the way down the trail this morning, I thought about the weekend ahead. With my Traveling Partner’s encouragement, I am planning to take a couple days to rest (and maybe paint) on the coast. I’m rarely so last minute about such things, and I am delighted to have the opportunity, if I can make it work out. I walk with my thoughts, sifting through my recollections of various other similar short getaways. I have options. A rough plan begins to take shape… A short work day, a relaxed drive to the coast, an “early” check-in if I can get it, and an ocean view room from which to watch the sun set, sounds like a fine beginning. I sometimes surprise myself by being able to sleep in, at the coast. Is it the sound of the sea? The scent of the ocean breeze? I don’t know, really, but I’m happy to continue to study the phenomenon. 😆

I sit at my halfway point now, thinking about the weekend ahead. Painting or photography? Reading or writing? Meditation or beachcombing? Does it have to be either/or? I can mix and match. I grin thinking about times when I’ve packed for every possible option and found myself just napping, stargazing, and enjoying a bit of sightseeing instead of doing any of the things I had tried to prepare for. 😆 Human primates are weird.

… What do I really need most out of this time? I sit quietly reflecting on that…

What matters most? It’s a big question. I sit with that awhile. I decide to keep things simple, and open, and a very loose “plan” (so unlike me) and see where the journey takes me, for a change. Low effort, maximum rest. I’ve always got my sketchbox in the car, and my cellphone is more camera than phone in everyday use. I’ll bring a book and a change of clothes. It feels like enough. I’m only going for a day, framed by two nights.  It’s more about getting the restful quiet time than any agenda or itinerary. I’m not looking for an achievement.

I smile to myself, feeling easy. This feels somehow “settled” now. I shift gears to thinking about today. I remind myself to stop at the store on my way home from work. It’s not yet the weekend, and there’s today to be lived. I bring myself back to here, now, and draw in a deep breath of cool Spring air. Pretty morning. Cloudy skies but no rain, cool but not cold. I’m okay with this. I chuckle to myself; it wouldn’t change anything if I weren’t okay with it. Reality would just go on being real, at least with regard to the weather. The weather is not within my control.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s almost time to begin the day. I wonder briefly how many of you read the layers of meaning or look for the lessons or metaphors? I smile to myself, unconcerned, just curious. I get to my feet and turn towards the sun. It’s time to begin again.

This morning I woke aching, feeling a bit twisted, and wondering what woke me early. It’s raining. Simply that, nothing more. I don’t mind some rain, and the garden will love it. I ran my fingers through my hair, as I stood at the bathroom sink, a little bleary eyed, a little tired.

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

I got to the trailhead a little before daybreak. The sky was already light enough to reveal stormy sky overhead, no colorful sunrise this morning. I sigh to myself and get out of the car. Just a sprinkle now, the rain won’t slow me down.

Sometimes it rains.

I walked with my thoughts. Uncomplicated solitary time on a Spring morning. I walk. It’s enough.

I think about the upcoming weekend. My beloved Traveling Partner has suggested, multiple times now, that I take a couple days – the upcoming weekend – and get away for a couple days and really rest. He sees the strain and lingering fatigue I’m dealing with. I think about it. It does sound good… Too early for camping yet (for me), I don’t sleep well enough in the cold and damp to enjoy the experience of tent camping in early Spring. A room on the coast? A cabin in the mountains? A yurt at the edge of the high desert? I sigh to myself; I don’t want to spend money on myself right now. I’m being ridiculous. I would benefit from a couple days alone. My beloved wouldn’t suggest it several times, if it weren’t clear I need a break from the world.

I get to my halfway point still thinking about where to go, maybe, this weekend.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. The rain has stopped. I meditate awhile. I do find meditation a helpful practice for building resilience, finding balance, and maintaining a calm and centered experience. Lately it isn’t enough “all the time” to bring balance and peace when the world is so chaotic and stress-inducing. It’s s little little walking uphill on an icy surface. The residual damage of early life and young adult trauma, and latent mental health issues, weigh on me heavily these days, and really test the progress I’ve made. I look at my hands, and recognize that using them to gauge “how I’m doing right now” is pretty useful. They are neat, manicured, and healthy, no torn cuticles; clearly I’m okay, for most values of okay.

The break in the rain becomes a mist, then a sprinkle. I gaze into the stormy sky above. More rain? Oh, yeah. The sprinkle starts to evolve into a proper bit of rain. I get to my feet and pull my fleece close around me for warmth, as I take cover under the oaks, and finish my writing. Rain will fall. That’s just real. What we do about it matters more.

I sigh to myself, regretting that I didn’t grab my rain poncho this morning. I wipe the drops off the screen of my phone, complete this sentence, and begin again.

My tinnitus is shrieking in my ears this morning. (Well, okay, more of a high pitched static in the background, if static were made up of tiny chimes vibrating aggressively, with a touch of morse code in the background that I can almost but not quite make out.) It is a beautiful Spring morning in spite of that.

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

In the sunrise, all the promise of a new day.

I slept well and deeply. I woke gently. I dressed, watered the lawn, and headed to the local walking path to get a mile or two on my boots. So far an ordinary enough day. It is a Sunday, and Mother’s Day, but there’s not much to do about that around our house. I’m not a mother. My maternal figures have all passed. I sent my sister a Mother’s Day greeting and let it go. I suppose my Traveling Partner will phone his mother at some point today.

I think about yesterday as I walk. I think about today. Yesterday had some beautiful high points and some frustrating low points, too. I made a batch of excellent brownies. It was all very human. Today will no doubt also have highs and lows, beautiful moments and aggravating mistakes, failed communication and delightful moments of connection. Fucking hell, I’d like to get everything right all of the time, but I don’t see living perfection among the options on life’s menu. I guess I’m grateful that the brownies turned out well, if nothing else. I sigh to myself and keep walking.

Order, and chaos, and beginning again.

Yesterday was spent creating order from chaos. My Traveling Partner continues to move things around in his spaces, preparing for the work ahead, this week. Exciting to see. I help where I can, when I’m asked, and try my damnedest not to break shit, forget something, or misunderstand something obvious – with mixed success. I had expected to spend the weekend relaxing and focusing on my own needs, and my own spaces, and taking care of myself, but it didn’t play out that way; my partner asked for my help. Today, I have less to give. I’m not in as much pain, but my mobility is more limited. Today it takes longer to get to the halfway point on this walk. I’m actually fatigued when I get here. (I’d take a nap right this moment if that were convenient. It isn’t.)

I take a seat on the bench that is next to the trail, under the trees. My legs ache. My back, too. My head spins for a moment with unexpected vertigo and I half wonder if walking was a terrible idea, after all, but I’m here and the Spring air is sweet with the scent of flowers. I breathe it in deeply. The soft scent of joy is in the Spring breeze, it seems to me. I stretch and groan from the sensation of muscles protesting, and stretch again. In each movement, I feel yesterday’s effort.

I make a point of letting all my yesterdays go. This is a new day, and a new moment, all its own, to be lived and savored and enjoyed. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I commit silently to reviewing my to-do list and tackling the tasks that most directly support self-care in some way, and hope that my Traveling Partner doesn’t need much from me. I feel pretty drained and have little to give, but I don’t find denying him easy; I want to help. (Sometimes even at the potential cost of my health, safety, or sanity, and that’s not healthy.)

… Brain damage is hard to live with, and also hard to live around…

A small herd of deer steps from the trees, one by one. Probably the same little herd I see here now and then. Two of the does are obviously pregnant, the other two seem younger. I don’t see a buck anywhere around,  just the four does. They watch me with calm eyes and munch their way along the grassy edge of the trail, nibbling at the grasses and shrubbery. There is blue sky overhead, streaked with clouds, and the tops of the oaks are dark green against the sky. I could sit here for hours just watching the clouds and the wildlife.

Be present.

I meditate awhile. The deer move on. The clock keeps ticking. I wonder if my beloved got the rest he needs for the day ahead? I sigh to myself and get to my feet. It’s already time to begin again.

I considered my pain as I dress. Maybe I wouldn’t walk this morning at all? Maybe just a coffee at Big Corp Chain cafe? I yawned through watering the lawn and garden before work. It’s less that doing so is necessary quite yet (although in hasn’t rained in a few days), it is more to do with setting the habit as part of my routine for the summer weeks to come.

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

I reached the usual trail at the usual time – so far it is an utterly ordinary typical morning. Friday. G’damn I hope I sleep in tomorrow. Without even thinking twice about it, I grab my cane, get out of the car, and step onto the trail.

I get to my halfway point – the usual spot – and take a seat. Nothing out of the ordinary. So far the morning is like most mornings, and begins gently, with a nice walk, meditation, and a few minutes of writing. It’s almost boring, it’s all so routine. I hear a siren in the distance. I’m in the countryside, away from densely populated urban areas, but here too people are people and very human. I sigh to myself. Getting this human thing right is so frustratingly difficult sometimes. Now and then, something goes wrong, and the result is felt in raised voices …or a siren.

Don’t misunderstand my observations on the utterly ordinary average morning I am having. I’m fortunate and grateful, not complaining. Ordinary beats the hell out of drama or bombs dropping! My beloved sends me a good morning greeting and then a song he’s been liking. I listen again, and I’m similarly moved each time I hear it. It’s not unusual for my beloved to share a song he likes. I’m fortunate to be so loved.

I sit and watch the sun rise. Seems fairly commonplace, as sunrises go. I’m okay with that; I’m here for it, and that’s enough.

I’m human. I’m a living animal of meat and bone and blood. I live a finite mortal life. I understand that desire for more, better, sooner – but over time, life keeps teaching me the lessons of sufficiency. I don’t need a shiny new car right now, the Mazda gets me around adequately well, reliably. I don’t need elegant reservations- only dining experiences every weekend (or at all), however amazing the experience might be. Home cooking is tasty, healthy, and enough to satisfy my appetite. Life is generally like that; enough is enough. Sufficiency is plenty for the day-to-day. Special experiences feel more deliciously memorable when they are special. It’s very human to aspire to more and better – but having it all isn’t necessary, and makes a rather silly goal. At least I think so.

I sigh to myself. My big deal daydream-level yearning right now? Enough energy for ordinary things. Enough reserves at the end of a work day to do more – to do things for myself. Anything. I keep putting myself last without that being my intention. I could do better. I’ll keep practicing. I keep thinking about next weekend. My Traveling Partner suggested I get away for a couple days… I wonder if it will be warm enough for camping, maybe?

I look at the clock. It’s a pretty ordinary time to begin again. So I do that. It’s part of an ordinary day.

Ordinary day. Ordinary Spring morning. Overcast skies, mild temperature, still air heavy with the scent of flowers, grass, and tilled soil. The tall oaks along the start of the trail are green now. The visible patches of snow on the distant hills are dwindling.

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

I enjoy this bit of solitude in the mornings, rain or clear skies, fog or a brilliant sunrise, winter, summer, Spring, or fall. This is beautiful quiet time well spent. Vita contemplativa – maybe not achievable for every moment of every day in every lifetime; we don’t all have it like that. I’m grateful for the precious moments I can devote to solitary contemplation, or art, or just daydreaming as the minutes tick past.

Yesterday evening I looked around the house with some amazement. In the short time since the Anxious Adventurer returned to his familiar life and routine in Ohio, we’ve moved things around a lot, reclaimed a lot of space, done some spring cleaning, and generally gotten things more organized. It’s nice to see my Traveling Partner so capable once again, and improving every day. It’s hard to keep up with, though, and I had worn myself down a lot during the most demanding 16 months or so of caregiving. I’m still recovering. This morning I’m feeling the efforts of recent days in the form of an aggravated rotator cuff injury, aching knees and hips, and simple fatigue. (It still beats the hell out of the headache I had yesterday!)

My beloved suggested to me that I take off for a couple days the weekend after payday. (He’d go himself, and give me some alone time at home, but he’s in the middle of a job, and can’t just wander off for a weekend.) The idea is appealing. Would I go to some usual place? Somewhere new? I think it over without coming to any conclusions. It’s an appealing “maybe”.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I repeat as needed. It’s an ordinary work day. I have limited time for daydreaming. (It nearly always feels that way, and I always find it time well spent in spite of that.)

I remind myself gently that there is no pressure, no urgency, and that most seemingly stressful things are likely blown way out of proportion by my aggressively concerned primate mind. I imagine an ape with a laptop frowning at a calendar and chuckle to myself. Yeah, that seems pretty apt. A robin hops past my feet, more attentive to whatever is in the grass than to anything to do with me. I’m reminded that my thinking will be informed by whatever I put my attention on. Choices. I can guide the quality of my experience by choosing what I put my attention on. Useful.

Another breath, another moment, and a new day filled with new experiences. A chance to begin again. What will I do with it?