Archives for posts with tag: stillness

I’m sitting at the trailhead, early on a Saturday morning before dawn, listening to the rain on the windows of my car. I watch the lights of passing cars on the nearby highway sweep over the soggy roadside and the marsh beyond. I am waiting for a break in the rain and for the gate to the park to open. I won’t have to wait much longer on the gate, it opens at daybreak.

I’m sipping an iced espresso, more ice than coffee, and thinking about yesterday. New job. Well… Same job, but as a full-time employee rather than a contractor. I’m smiling as I recall the moment, because my boss seemed every bit as excited to make the offer as I was to receive it, and said some pretty great things about the work I’ve done so far. It feels really good to get that kind of validation.

… I remind myself not to take the compliments personally, just as I would if I had been grievously insulted; they’re words. Opinions. Impressions in the moment. They provoke an emotional reaction, sure, but my own lived experience reminds me they guarantee nothing and provide no assurance of a particular outcome.

… Still… I’m pleased and excited. It’s a step I wanted to take and it puts me in a good place for the year ahead. I sit quietly with the feeling of eagerness and contentment for awhile, waiting for daybreak.

Daybreak comes. The park gate opens. The geese begin their day and I hear them honking at each other before I see them overhead. The rain just keeps coming down steadily. Too rainy to bring the camera out. I wait, still hopeful I might get a break in the rain sufficient to walk a couple miles along the soggy marsh trails. Maybe. Maybe not.

I sit wondering what to do with the day before remembering it’s time to take down all the holiday decor and put it away for another year. I’d almost forgotten all about it. lol My heart is still celebrating, I suppose. It’s not that there’s all that much joy available in the world right now, more that it is more urgent that we savor the joy there is.

I sip my coffee (honestly more ice water than coffee at this point) swirling it in the cup to hear the ice rattle. Life can change so quickly. I sit with my thoughts, my joys, my sorrows. I enjoy the pleasant stillness and solitude awhile. No agenda. No demands on my time or attention. Just this moment, the rain, and the sounds of the geese… It’s enough.

… Later, I’ll begin again.

I woke abruptly, wide awake in the wee hours. Bad dreams, already unrecalled. I am okay with that. There is limited value in remembering nightmares.

I woke feeling parched and restless. I got up long enough to get a drink of water and attempted to return immediately to slumber. Yeaaaaaah… That’s not working out so far. lol

My head aches. My tinnitus is loud, chiming and ringing in my ears. I sit up to write for a few minutes, laptop dimmed, sipping on a glass of water. I am damp with sweat, whether left behind from my dreams or too many blankets I don’t know.

I would sleep if I could, but that won’t happen staring into the glow of a monitor. I will set this aside, meditate and focus on my breath, until sleep overtakes me once more. It’s time to begin again. πŸ™‚

This morning I woke up feeling peculiarly disconnected and distant. I scrolled through the news, my Facebook feed, my email, all while feeling strangely uninvolved. I’ve finished my first cup of coffee. I don’t recall whether it was good, bad, or unremarkable. I swallow the last sip, but still can’t really tell much about the experience. The remaining dregs were smooth, not bitter, and tepid. Uninteresting. The apartment windows are open to the morning breeze; the forecast for the day suggests it will be a warmer one. I am only as involved as necessary to remember to cool the apartment first thing.

Am I tired? I slept well, and woke at a natural time, feeling well-rested. I’ve no cause to feel ‘hung over’ or out of sorts due to some change in medication. There’s nothing much “on my mind” at the moment, and it feels like a nice day has begun… certainly… it’s a new one. So… what’s up with the woman in the mirror, this morning? I feel as if I am a stranger to myself in some peculiar way… like commuters passing by each other on the light rail platform in the morning, on the way elsewhere; I see an impression of this person who is ‘myself’, and I continue on my way, unmoved. I have no idea what, if anything, to do about it.

One moment.

One moment.

I may see my traveling partner today. I don’t actually know. We’d made plans to connect over the weekend. Those fell through. Monday. Tuesday. We planned. Plans change. Real life happens, and gets the higher priority as an actual experience. No stress over that, but as it happens, today I lack any particular certainty that we’ll see each other. We probably will. We might not. The map is not the world. The plan is not the experience. πŸ™‚

Yeah… I’m in a weird place today. I wonder why? I wonder if wondering about it is worthwhile? I wonder if any action is needed, or if things will sort of… just sort themselves out on their own? Change is. It’s a given that change will continue to be. I could actually quite literally simply ‘wait this out’, and change would do its thing, and at some point I will feel differently and have a different perspective. I could also act on – from? – this strange neutral place, and catalyze change in some active way. No idea whether it matters which strategy I submit to.

What do I need from me today? Some basics first, I suppose. I check the calendar for planned commitments. I look at the blank page of my task list for today, and consider what shape the day could take from that distance of minutes andΒ hours displayed as blank lines. I hear the commuter train in the distance. I see cloud-filtered morning light bounce off blades of grass in the meadow, through the open window. I consider a second coffee, without taking action. Poor verbs, disregarded and kicked into a pile in a corner, somewhere just out of my awareness, unattended, and for now unused… Now what?

If I wait until I “sort everything out” before starting my day, it seems likely the day may never quite begin at all. Where will today take me? I’ve no idea. Perhaps if I simply begin again…

This morning I woke with the alarm clock. It’s been weeks since that’s been necessary. I’d probably have awakened plenty early without it, but having a firm departure time this morning, it was the safer choice to set the alarm. This one small change is enough to throw me off my routine this morning, and I overlook taking my medication for almost half an hour after I am “awake”. I’m not sure I’m actually quite awake even now. I take another sip of my coffee.

Rain? Maybe.

Rain? Maybe.

The morning sky seems peculiarly dark. I find myself wondering how this is so – I’m generally up at this hour, and don’t recall the sky being so dark… The sun rises 12 minutes later than it did on June 21. Β So. Darker at this time? Yeah, probably a bit, but I think it’s more to do with the heavy dark clouds overhead.Β I watch the dawn begin with a flicker of sunlight breaking through the clouds, and breathe deeply.

Day break. Time to begin again. :-)

Day break. Time to begin again. πŸ™‚

The sunrise begins to color the sky in shades of peach, pink, and orange. Feeling my toes cold against the concrete patio, I feel a moment of appreciation for walls, doors, a roof, and this moment as the sun rises. I put the morning on hold and enjoy the sunrise, until the heavy clouds take back the dawn.

The sunrise is so brief, surely there is time to enjoy it?

The sunrise is so brief, surely there is time to enjoy it?

It’s back to the VA, this morning. I’m feeling hopeful, and mostly pretty emotionally comfortable. I am looking forward to a visit with my traveling partner after I return home. The minutes and hours we spend together are precious. I take time to appreciate love. I check the clock. I smile contentedly; I’m right on schedule.

I’ve no specific expectations of the day, beyond attending this appointment and returning home. I’ll see where the day takes me, and then I’ll know what I’ve done with it, afterward. I’ll practice being present for each moment. I’ll breathe through any stress, remind myself it will pass, and practice not taking things personally. I’ll make a point to enjoy is enjoyable in each moment, however challenging. I’ll let go of my attachment to outcomes, expectations, and assumptions. I’ll walk my own path, and practice making mindful choices that meet my needs over time. Today seems a good day for it. πŸ™‚

Today is singular. I woke early, from a less-than-ideally-sound sleep. I went back to sleep. I repeated this a couple times. My traveling partner was also not sleeping deeply. I sometimes snore, and I know I woke myself a couple times with it in the wee hours. This morning I am conscious of his need for sleep, and I quietly go about my gentle morning: yoga, meditation, study, a few minutes to pause and reflect on things I am grateful for and to appreciate my circumstances, a cup of coffee. I feel tender and sweet toward that human being in the other room, and enjoy treating him very well. I continue to treat myself well, too.

It is an unexpected (and unplanned) delight to have my traveling partner staying over, possibly for a couple days. I smile when I think about the delights of his day-to-day companionship, which I cherish. I frown briefly as I remind myself to continue to ‘handle business’, maintain my quality of life, and take care of myself well; it’s easy to lose track of everything but the warmth of his smile when he is staying with me. I’m very human. πŸ™‚

Love matters most.

Love matters most.

Today is simple, my calendar is empty – that’s harder for me some days, rather than easier; there is still much to do with this precious finite lifetime and, since it isn’t on the calendar already, I’ll have to make it up as I go along. πŸ˜€ Β I’m okay with living life unscripted, actually. It’s taken some time to get here, but the conversations are profoundly more interesting when I don’t practice them in my head beforehand…and I hear more of what is being said. πŸ™‚

Today I will do some things. Basic self-care will be among the things I do. I’ll prepare and consume calories. I will no doubt read something. Perhaps I’ll paint. The housekeeping is handled. The garden needs care. I find it rare to run out of things to do, and generally make a point of adding ‘sit still’ to my ‘to do list’ – not because I wouldn’t sit down for a moment, ever, if I didn’t – more because it reminds me that when I do, it matters to be in the moment, actually sitting, actually still, actually at rest, awake, aware, and committed to stillness. That moment of stillness is a big deal for me – and it can’t typically be had with the television on, sometimes even music in the background interferes with that needed moment of stillness, sitting, content, aware, not bored, not restless – calm and content.

A good day

What will I do with the day?

It’s a good day to chill. A good day for bird watching. A good day to walk in the sunshine, and to breathe fresh air.

Where does the path I choose lead?

Where does the path I choose lead?

Today I am in more pain than I’ve been in for a while. The cooler weather? It doesn’t matter too much why, the pain simply is, today. It’s just my arthritis, and it eases some with walking, and with yoga. The sense of being nauseous with pain is hard to shake, and unpleasant. It will pass. The pain isn’t terribly severe, just present, and I’ve been enjoying being in less pain with the hotter summer weather, recently (the contrast probably makes the pain seem worse than it is). This cooler more-like-spring weather returns and brings the pain with it. Today is a good one for seeking distractions. I’m okay with that. I find myself appreciating the luxury of not having to be at a desk for 8-10 hours while I am in pain; more freedom of movement results in less (and more manageable) pain.

Isn't this enough?

Isn’t this enough?

Today isn’t fancy, or busy, or well-planned, or filled with events or workload. It’s a day. It could be any day. This is the beginning and there’s so much more to come. If today were a shit day full of challenges and emotion, it would still be only a day, different from yesterday, different from tomorrow. Each one a new opportunity to do, or be, or go, or discover – or not – all at the ready to convert what I anticipated, expected or yearned for into what I recall. The stopover in this moment now, living, breathing, and being is all too brief. Today is a very good day to live now. I think I’ll go do that. πŸ™‚