Archives for posts with tag: sit happens

Sometimes life throws a curve ball. Our path may take a detour we didn’t see coming. Sometimes unexpected circumstances are a big deal, with a lot of upheaval or moments of adversity and tears. Sometimes it’s just a rainy morning that makes an early walk less feasible (or at least less pleasant).

Waiting for a break in the rain.

I woke early and tried to slip away without waking my Traveling Partner. It wasn’t raining when I left the house, but it clearly had been. By the time I got to the trailhead and parked the car, it was raining pretty steadily. I sat contentedly listening to the rain fall, spattering the car, meditating and watching the dawn become day.

I managed to get a half mile in, between rain showers, then another after warming up in the car. It’s somehow very satisfying and I find myself thinking “nice morning for it”, in spite of the rain and the autumn chill. What a lovely weekend.

I think of a distant and very dear friend who is ill, and wonder if I should make the drive down to see her again, very soon? I worry. She’s going through a rough time and has COVID on top of that. 😦

The sky continues to lighten. I watch the few soggy leaves still clinging to branches flutter in the breeze. Now and then a gust of wind rocks the car. I wait for another break in the rain and think about love.

… Nice morning for it…

I’m sipping lukewarm too-strong less than ideally good office coffee and looking out the windows onto a rainy day, in Autumn, in “the city”. It could be any city. There are trees along the sidewalks, green summer foliage has begun turning to shades of gold, amber, and red. The soggy gray sky obscures the distant hills and creates silvery featureless reflections on office buildings beyond the windows. I’m thinking about life – and how fortunate I am – and how peculiar it is to be so contented, generally, when my actual life is so very different than what I once thought I wanted from it. Very strange.

A rainy autumn day suitable for thinking thoughts.

The day begins rather slowly for a Monday. It’ll be busier as the day progresses. I use the time to get my thoughts sorted out, and my week planned. There’s much to do, but a significant portion of the doing rests on good planning, and awareness of projects already in progress; rushing through the “thought work” has proven to be a poor choice on more than one occasion. I take my time with it. I think things through. I take notes, and review other notes. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I drink my coffee.

Past tense. Autumn colors. Memories like fallen leaves.

Funny how what we think we want doesn’t always turn out to be what we actually wanted, at all. Funny how things that are in the past become something more than mere memories, over time, taking on stature far beyond whatever humble object or event they represent. I find myself thinking about the past, and wondering how I got from there to here… “Here” isn’t where I expected to be, honestly.

…There are conversations I wish I could have with my Dad, my Mom, with Granny…

I sip my coffee contentedly. The day and week stretch ahead of me. My Traveling Partner is at home, working. I’m in the office, working. I’m thinking about life and love, and smiling at the raindrops spattering the grand windows that seem display the city for my view alone in this quiet space. It’s enough. I guess I’m just puzzled about how this can feel so good, so safe, so satisfying… and still find myself vulnerable to the chaos and damage that still linger, and sometimes take me by surprise. I’m fortunate to have come so far. It’s taken time and a lot of verbs and considerable effort and the will to just keep at it… again and again, failure after failure, frustration after frustration… but I am here. This is now. I’m okay with it. More than that… I may even be… happy. At least in this moment. That’s enough.

Eventually, I’ll have to begin again. For now, I’ll just enjoy this moment, right here. 🙂

I’m sipping some fizzy water in a cool, dimly lit, hotel room in the desert. The whole experience feels exotic and a tad surreal. At the moment, there is nothing at all “going on” – no planned activities, no agenda items, no dangling work… just… quiet. The stillness is filled only with the sound of the AC blowing softly, and my fingers dancing across the keyboard. For a moment it sounds almost like someone tap-dancing, just behind me. I breathe, exhale, relax, and consider for a moment whether I need pain medication, or would benefit from a cool shower, a nap, or perhaps wish to venture out into the sunshine.

…I smile understandingly at myself; it’s easy to run from the quiet times when I have them. It’s not a good practice, but it is easy. lol Another breathe. I pause to spend a few minutes on meditation.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

I stretch, reaching for the ceiling, and then for the floor, as I get up from my cushion, after some minutes of meditation. I sit back down at this keyboard to reflect and to share, before the afternoon grows later.

The weather here is hot, dry, and breezy. The sun blasts the mountains and ground between them. It was already 75F by breakfast, and now it is 91F (and getting hotter) – it’s just past noon. The hotel staff smile when someone mentions the heat. We are enjoying – apparently – an unseasonal break from it (at these temperatures).

Palo Verde in bloom.

The signal strength and reliability of the hotel wi-fi connection isn’t great. My signal drops occasionally. This is not a great place to spend the day watching videos or movies, or doing anything at all that requires connectivity. What is a great place for are these quiet times. Sure, I could step out into the heat and dazzling sunshine reflected from the hotel pool. I don’t. I sit here quietly for some little while, soaking in the quiet. It’s such a rare thing (for me, most of the time) to find myself alone and embraced by stillness all around. I crave it. Seek it. Enjoy it. So… running from it, however easy, would just not be acceptable. We’ve got a work session planned for the afternoon, and soon enough it’ll be time to make my way to the co-work space we’ve reserved for the purpose. Soon enough. For now, there’s all this lovely quiet time to enjoy…

…Later will be soon enough to begin again.

This morning I’m all smiles. I had a lovely day with my Traveling Partner, yesterday. It finished well. Life feels balanced, and I am contented. Sure, sure, still looking for a job, so there’s that, but I don’t see that it has any requirement to be a massive continuous buzzkill every minute of every day… or… any minutes. Ever. I know “this too will pass” – doesn’t matter whether it’s a good mood, a bad mood, a wonderful moment, a tragedy; moments are moments. Transient. Finite. Limited. Very little in a single human life is so dire that despair is truly warranted (that’s one of the things that makes despair so terrible and terrifying – it feels like “everything”, and it’s very “sticky”). I enjoy the smile on my face, take a sip of this glass of water, and listen to a video that makes me smile with such tremendous delight it’s hard to move on to the next one. No, I’m not linking it; delight is not “universal”, and what tickles me so profoundly may be disturbing or offensive or puzzling for someone else. No point. Hit up Google or YouTube, find your groove. 😉

Different day, different meadow.

I went to the nearby nature reserve this morning to get shots of birds. I got there just at daybreak; first car into the park. Choice. The summer-scented air was fragrant with meadow flowers and a hint of marsh. The morning was very quiet and quite overcast. I grabbed my gear and walked down the path to a spot I know is a good one for taking pictures of birds. No birds. It was rather as if the wildlife decided to sleep in on this quiet gray morning. I walked on. Snapped some pictures of flowers, the skyline, reflections on the water. Kept walking. Eventually my Traveling Partner pinged me.

My last trip was more “productive”, if I choose to define it that way – there were more birds.
I got a lot of chances to improve on my skills at taking pictures of birds that day.

There’s no expectation that I’ll cut my camera time short when my partner wakes, although I do try to “stay gone” long enough for him to sleep in, should he choose to and find himself able. Still… not much going on in the nature park, so I turned back and walked back to the parking lot. I passed a lot of other visitors with cameras. By the time I was within view of the parking lot, the path down to the meadow looked like a fucking camera convention. Individuals and groups, each taking some favored spot, waiting, watching, hoping for a great shot of… something. (Anything – other than each other.) lol I see a lot of really fancy gear as I pass other visitors. I could easily be overcome with dissatisfaction and “gear envy”…but it’s not my way. Like, I mean, explicitly not my choice to be thusly overcome; I get some great shots with my modest gear. I enjoy it as it is. It’s often so much more about location, timing, and willingness to walk on, or sit quietly awhile, and less to do with the gear, generally. 🙂 A lot of life is like that. Even mindfulness practices – anyone can (people often do) spend a ton of money on coaches, consultants, therapists, or “specialists” to learn to sit quietly, breathe, and relax. (It’s even possible to take an expensive destination retreat at an actual monastery, should you have the desire and the resources. It’s not necessary to do so, though, at all.) It’s not even a certainty that spending that kind of money on breathing exercises and mindfulness practices will “pave the trail” for you more skillfully than taking it upon yourself to read a book and begin practicing practices. It’s more about the verbs than the dollars.

…I’m one of those people, by the way. No kidding. I was at the edge and still spiraling down, and I felt wholly defeated. I spent a notable amount of my limited resources on therapy. Doing so saved my life. Looking back, I can see how easily I could have made that journey, perhaps, without spending that money…only… I didn’t, because I wasn’t able to. I did not know what I did not know. I needed that help. So I did the needful and took steps to get the help I needed. Did my therapist do more than point me in the direction of reading different books, or helping me practice other practices? Oh, for sure. Real therapy. I needed a lot of help making that healing journey (that is still in progress), and part of that process was gaining a better understanding of my actual legit issues. Still… it is possible to make a healing journey without a map. It isn’t about the money.

I prepared my reading list so that someone who maybe can’t at all afford the expense of therapy in their here-and-now could still benefit from the foundations of the journey I’m taking myself. I write this blog for that same reason – and also because I often find that I “fail to take my own good advice” because I’ve lost perspective over time. This blog is something of a repository of my notes about this journey, and my changing perspective over time – a reminder that it can be done, because I’ve done it, just in case I find myself doubting. (I’m very human.)

What a lovely morning this is, so far. It may last the day. It may not. So much of that is up to me. I’ve got choices to make. Practices to practice. Verbs to put into motion. It’s time to begin again.

Good steps to begin a journey:

  1. Do something differently. (Follow-up)
  2. What about self-care?
  3. Maybe just don’t be in your own way?

This morning I am grooving to the sound of new beats from an old friend. I’m sipping my coffee, feeling relaxed, loved, and even “merry”. It’s a pleasant, leisurely Sunday morning. My pleasant moment is interrupted by a commercial interruption on Soundcloud; an ad break between tracks. I roll my eyes, look for any chance to skip it (that doesn’t amount to paying for a subscription to a rarely used service), and settle on ignoring it for the required 31 seconds. It’s a distraction, and not a pleasant one; this is “where we are” culturally – our attention held in servitude to commercial endeavors, with or without our consent.

I sip my coffee and think about the media, my shorter attention span, the nature of likes, clicks, and views, and the monetization of human attention, and individual data. I think about our “global culture” – and how it sometimes seems “the fabric of society” is being torn apart…only… that’s just one perspective on a very complex, only somewhat shared experience. While there certainly seem to be “norms” and commonplace expectations of a dominant group in our social hierarchy being challenged, undermined, and perhaps also “misused”… There are also huge swaths of humanity who were never invited to that party, who don’t (and did not) have the advantages that are said to be being “undermined”, and for whom the system as it is has existed is punitive, hostile, prejudiced, and has long prevented them from thriving as groups. Labeled, cut-off from the benefits of “mainstream” society, and worse still often shamed for “doing it to themselves” instead of humble acknowledgement of inequities in our laws and institutions, so many people in so many places see patterns that amount to willful inhumanity. Fixing that mess… now that’s a global challenge for a global society. Will we fix our mess before the clock runs out on humanity’s presence on this planet?

I let the beats carry my thoughts onward… sipping my coffee and a glass of water, sort of in alternation.

I think about the day’s housekeeping tasks ahead of me. I think about getting a walk in on some nearby trail – if the day warms up just a little. I think about maybe baking brownies and trying a different recipe, seeking that exceptional brownie result. None of these thoughts, however delightful, have anything whatsoever to do with the actual outcome; that requires some verbs. Real action. Choices. Follow-through.

…Another fucking advertisement begins to play in the background. I do not give a shit about the advertiser or the product. I tune it out…

Patterns in my life; I do housekeeping on Sundays, generally. When I write, most of the time, I write in the morning. There is a cadence, a rhythm, to the day-to-day, and to each week. When I write, or think, or reflect, or daydream, there is often some kind of thread that connects my thoughts. When I struggle, there is often another sort of “thread” that, once tugged, begins to unravel some bit of baggage or bullshit. Noticing a pattern, pulling on that thread, following a path; all these things lead me onward. Even these beats in my ears right now, and so also in my head, guide me along my human experience, giving me a pace, a flow, a sort of carrier wave upon which the signal that is my own individual experience can be layered. My breathing shifts; slower and more even with the chill ambient beats. Glacial. Slow perspective. Ease.

Another advertisement? Really?? Fucking hell…

The beat shifts again, energizing me, lifting me, bring a smile to my face and an eagerness to my moment. My breathing is a bit faster. I feel an increasing readiness to move on with the day. There is a rhythm to the tasks and habits and routines I set for myself. It works for me, mostly. When it doesn’t, breaking down the missed moment, the lost beat, the unraveling thread into smaller parts gives me a chance to understand myself a bit better, and to creep ever closer to being the person I most want to be.

…It’s not “everything”, it’s only “something” – sometimes something is enough. 🙂 It is, at least, enough on which to begin again. 😀

Today, I’ll do my best. I’ve got a list. I’ve got all day. 🙂 It’s enough.