Metaphorically or in life, sometimes it is going to rain. Pretty much a certainty, actually, that at some point we’re going to get rained on as we journey life’s path. lol This morning the rain is quite literal. The weather forecast suggests it will lighten up enough to enjoy my walk sometime very soon, so I take a few minutes to write, and wait.
…I won’t be writing on the trail this morning, too wet…
I breathe, exhale, and relax. I slept well, and took yesterday pretty easy. I’m glad I did, and I am grateful to have had my Traveling Partner’s encouragement. I feel more rested, and my body feels more recovered from the previous week. It’s quite nice to take the weekend off for real, instead of swapping one sort of work for another.
Don’t forget to take breaks! Make that time for yourself even when life feels “too busy”. This fragile vessel needs that care from us, even while we’re caring for others. These finite mortal lives deserve our attention. The payoff is worth it.
I sigh contentedly, listening to the rain and watching daybreak come. I even slept in this morning. Feels good. I feel good. Another day of luxurious rest, and I’ll definitely be ready to begin again. 😀 I hear the raindrops slow down, and stop… I’m ready.
It’s a chilly morning out on the trail. I’m okay with that, I’ve got a warm sweater on. The afternoon is forecast to be cooler, too. It definitely feels like fall now. I walked briskly, hands jammed into my pockets. I forgot to grab my cane, but so far my ankle is not failing me. I get to my halfway point still steady on my feet, and the pain I am in is “only” my arthritis. That’s not stopping me – it’s not even slowing me down, it’s just annoying.
I stop and take a seat on this rock that is “my usual spot”. It’s still fairly dark, though after I turn off my headlamp, I see that daybreak is here. The sky is a hazy gray, a combination of cloudy skies and distant wildfire smoke. It’s been a pretty dry year. I find myself wishing it would rain. I sigh to myself. Wishes aren’t worth much. Yearning doesn’t take me farther along my path unless I also put in the necessary work to walk it. There are reliably verbs involved. Choices to make. Actions to take. Will and effort and follow through required. We each have to walk our own mile, and no amount of yearning or daydreaming or wishing will take us to our destination.
I sit with my thoughts awhile. Daybreak becomes a hazy gray dawn, with a streak of orange on the eastern horizon as the sunrise begins. I’m grateful to see another. For a moment I wonder how many sunrises have there been in all of human history, and whether our earliest conscious cousins among primitive people also watched the sun rise with eyes wide with wonder, enjoying the rare hues and splendid colors? Surely they must have…?
I exchange a few words with my beloved Traveling Partner as the day begins. I feel relaxed and merry in spite of pain. It is a pleasant day, so far.
The trees are green now, with hints of yellow and russet, instead of appearing as dark smudges alongside the trail. The sky is a softer hazy pale blue. The trail is clearly visible and the start of the work day is on the other side of this walk… It’s already time to begin again.
I am waiting for the sun, at a local trailhead. I’m not in any hurry, and it is a calm, quiet morning. The forecast says maybe it’ll rain, later. For now, I amuse myself wondering if that’s lightning I just saw. What I definitely saw was a brief very bright diffuse flash of light somewhere beyond the clouds obscuring the predawn sky, and then, later, another. I didn’t hear thunder, so I guess that if it was lightning (what else would it be?) it must be quite far away.
In the darkness, before dawn, it’s easy to wonder.
Another work day. Nothing much to say about that.
My tinnitus is crazy loud in my ears. My spine is a column of pure pain; I tell myself it’s “only” arthritis. It’s an unhelpful bit of exaggeration, but I count on it to persuade me that the pain can safely be ignored. I take my morning medications, which include prescription pain relief. It helps some, but only serves to “take the edge off”. It’s been a long time since it was any more effective than that.
I sigh to myself and grab my cane. I’ve got enough daylight now to walk this trail safely. I get started…
… I walk, lost in my own thoughts, and find that I’ve gone down and around and back to my starting point, already. It’s still early, barely daybreak. I decide to walk the loop again (it’s only about a mile and a half)…
I stop at a favorite resting point, when I reach it. My mind wants to dart ahead, to focus on work, but it is not yet time for that, and I pull myself back to this moment, here. The sky is gray, and cloudy, with the look of a sky that might rain, maybe. The air smells of rain, too. Another flash of distant lightning, another hint at rain.
Weather…or not.
The hills far to the west are hazy, looking more like a watercolor impression of hills on the horizon, and a bit unreal. This moment even feels a little unreal. Too quiet. Too still. The darkness of the trees between me and the river beyond seem vaguely spooky, although they have no secrets. It’s just a row of trees along the river bank. I walk here often.
I watch the sky continue to lighten, as daybreak becomes dawn, and an unseen sun rises somewhere beyond the clouds. The sky shifts from night black, to the deep blue of dawn, to the gray and cloudy sky I see now, and hints of pale blue behind the clouds peeking through where the clouds shred slowly as they move… north? North. I breathe, exhale, and relax. Somewhere nearby, the noise of a trash truck interrupts the stillness.
I sigh to myself as I get to my feet to finish my walk and head to work. Whether or not it actually rains, there’s still weather of some sort. Whether or not my path takes me where I expect to go, it still leads me somewhere. Having the experience is what matters most – the being and doing are the point. The journey is the destination. Isn’t that enough? I think about that as I stretch. The clock is ticking, and it’s time to begin.
It was dark when I left the house for my walk. It’s still dark now. I decide to meditate and write before my walk, instead of during, or after. I’m not in any great hurry, this morning, and it would be helpful to shift my routine to begin and end just a bit later each day, if I can. (The local university library is open to the community, and is a very pleasant and convenient place to work, but doesn’t open until 08:00). I can definitely take a few minutes for myself, early in the morning.
This first week at the new job is going well. Expectations are high, and I feel comfortable with those; everything asked of me is within my abilities. I smile contentedly to myself. It’s also very nice to have found a new very local place to co-work that isn’t a cafe. I like being near to home in case my Traveling Partner is faced with some urgent need, though that’s quite rare now. It’s nice to get home after a busy work day without the experience of a long sometimes aggravating commute.
I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s just me, and this quiet moment, waiting for enough daylight to see the trail without a headlamp. The sky is already turning a deep bluer-than-black and the trees are clearly silhouetted.
A moment of quiet, a ticking clock.
I think about work, and life, and rest, and the ongoing challenge of finding balance midst the chaos. Still feels like the world is burning, and I’m deeply disappointed in American “democracy” every time I contemplate the shit storm that is the current “administration” – seems more like a clown car, driven by a rapid squirrel, full of angry weasels with a trunk full of explosives, headed straight into a fucking dumpster fire, but I’m sure my expectations that elected officials be both qualified and ethical is unreasonable. Fucking hell, do better, People. Cast your vote with at least a modicum of basic consideration for the consequences, if you are unable to choose wisely based on demonstrable truth. I’m so over all of the partisan bullshit, corruption, and self-serving bootlicking of billionaires and special interests.
I breathe deeply and exhale slowly, and let all of that go. Daybreak is here. The trail begins to reveal itself. I lace up my boots and grab my cane. It’s time to begin this new day, and follow my path where it leads.
I am relaxing at camp, drinking coffee, and listening to the sound of little girls playing. It’s hard to be annoyed by their obvious joy and merriment as they play some version of make-believe.
My night passed in relative comfort, for some values of comfort, I suppose. It could have been worse, and I’m not ill, so there’s that. My guts were a mess and I definitely would have liked a camp site closer to the restrooms, but I got by without too much bother (trust me, you don’t want the details 😂) and eventually slept soundly and restfully.
One of my “neighbors”.
I sit with my coffee and my thoughts, watching the wildlife carefully exploring the edges of my camp. Birds. Bunnies. Squirrels. Chipmunks. Sooo many chipmunks! I got the solitude and quiet that I was looking for out on the trail. Camp is calm and relaxed but, at least for now, not especially quiet – but as I said, it’s hard to be annoyed by “a joyful noise”.
Another friendly visitor to my camp.
I hiked on aching legs, at a gentle pace, and got a couple miles in, early. I strolled down to the lake after my first coffee, and sat for a little while watching the reflections on the water. No drama. No fuss over this or that. No errands to run. No chores to do. Just me watching the minutes slip by like ripples, feeling the breeze and listening to the sounds of birdsong. Quite a lovely morning.
Reflections on the lake, a calm cloudy summer morning.
Now back at camp, I’m doing more or less the same thing; sitting quietly, listening to the sound of the forest around me, and sipping a cup of coffee that is much better than the first. 😆 While I am grateful for this good cup of coffee, I have no explanation for the variance in quality – and I don’t bother looking for it. There’s no need. It’s enough to enjoy the moment and to appreciate the good cup of coffee. This is often true of circumstances. It may be enough to be present, to be grateful, to enjoy the moment, without seeking to explain it, define it, or troubleshoot some detail. So… I just go with it. It’s enough as it is.
There are so many paths to choose from…
I watch the chipmunks creeping closer. There’s a particularly bold one who definitely wants to check out the top of the picnic table, but hasn’t decided whether I’m a threat. I sit quietly, waiting, watching. Camp is getting noisier; campers are preparing to leave. I look over my trail map, and consider which trail to attempt next. The choice is mine – and eventually it’ll be time to begin again. For now there’s no hurry, just chipmunks, and this moment. 😁
Evening Light 