Archives for posts with tag: sufficiency

I woke to the sound of rainfall. It was only a patter on the window glass, then. I’ve been up some minutes now, and the rain is falling with real commitment to soaking everything, deeply so, and doing it with some rhythm. I take my coffee out onto the patio briefly.

I enjoy the rain, and I enjoy the metaphor…although, today isn’t ideal for falling rain metaphors. Rainy days of the heart, stormy moments, experiences weighed down by gray clouds of despair… these are exceptional moments for falling rain. I am frankly pleased that today I am simply listening to the rain fall, content with my morning coffee, calm after morning meditation, and feeling generally well and enthused about the day.  There will be other days more suited to the rain falling so steadily; this morning I enjoy it as it is.

This too shall pass. Isn’t that the underlying truth of impermanence? What I cling to will betray me with its impermanence, again and again, and not even “on purpose” or with any intention of causing me pain; most things, good and less so, end at some point. “Forever” joins its friend “happily ever  after” on the bookshelf marked “fiction”. That’s even totally okay – the highest highs need at least some bit of perspective on life’s lows to understand their dizzying heights. Things end. Things begin. We walk on.

Love and raindrops

Love and raindrops

I enjoyed a quiet evening with my traveling partner. Weekday evenings are so short now. I enjoy spending the time with him. “What do you want to do?” he asks at one point. I struggled to find the words. I could have said “Only to relax with you, quite comfortably, as though you live here every day.” It is the simplest expression of how I felt at that moment. I think what I said was “watch a movie?”, which wasn’t at all what I meant. Still, somehow the point gets across, I think, and we spend the evening looking for an anime to share together, settling perhaps not definitely on watching an old favorite again, but in Japanese instead of the English translation. Hearing such difference voices, and the emotion delivered somewhat differently, is engaging and beautiful. I don’t at all mind reading subtitles (and have to, since I don’t speak or read Japanese).

This morning, I begin again. A rainy commute will lead me to a day at work which will end with a crowded evening commute and a short quiet evening at home… solo? Maybe. I won’t know until then becomes now. I’m mostly okay with that, most of the time, although I do like planning, and prefer to have clear expectations of things to come. It’s been important to let go of my attachment to other people planning things as I do; it caused me a lot of unnecessary suffering.

I sip my coffee thinking about things that don’t happen, and things that do, and all the wasted planning that goes on in the calendars of people who plan. I think about all the wasted time that goes on in the days of people who don’t plan at all. I smile. I sip my coffee. We’re each having our own experience. It’s very human.

Today is a good day to let the rain fall. Today is a good day to begin again. Today is a good day to make plans, and when plans fall through it is a good day not to take is personally. It’s okay to let the rain be enough, just as it is. 🙂

I woke after a full night of deep sleep, or… that’s my subjective experience of it, so… good enough. 🙂 My coffee is hot, and also less satisfying than I expected it to be, although it tastes like a good cup of coffee, in every way I can specifically name. My experience of life is peculiarly subjective in nearly every detail. The shower that felt so comfortably warm to me, might feel quite cold to someone else, or perhaps too hot. The time of morning that I wake feels like an appropriate time for it, and I often wake at just that time, without the alarm – a lot of people might find it much too early. Some might find it far too late. Others, perhaps, don’t see the value in sleep at all. So very subjective.

This morning I contentedly sip my unsatisfying coffee, appreciating the ease with which it was made, and the comfort in holding the hot cup in my hands on a chilly morning. I take a moment to be grateful for the means to afford some measure quiet, and to lavish myself with civility and stillness, so very often. I pause to appreciate running water, and the technology that lets me so easily communicate with the world. I smile to myself; while I’m appreciating things, why not also be quite grateful for all the things. There’s a lot. I could make a list – a very long list.

Enough

Enough

Lately, it seems to be a very pleasant journey, most of the time. I recognize, for a moment, with great clarity, that I would not be so able to appreciate this moment here, now, without the hardships and trauma that went before; I would lack the perspective to understand how precious this “now” really is. Today, I take a few moments on a quiet morning to savor life as it is, my life, thorns and all. Gratitude is a wonderful condiment at the table of life’s banquet, and I help myself with relish. 😀

I woke to the alarm this morning. I slept, I think, through the night. When I woke, my sense of things was that it was exceedingly quiet. The kind of quiet that seems made of anticipation, and held breath. I exhale. I inhale. I breathe. As waking becomes meditation, an almost automatic response to a feeling of ‘dis-ease’ (I remember, too late, the word “uneasy”), my breathing becomes deep, comfortable, relaxed – and reliable. Sometimes I hold my breath without realizing it (maybe that’s a primate thing, or maybe just me, doesn’t matter right now); deep, relaxed breathing, tends to reduce anxiety caused by not breathing. Go figure. 😉

I give myself a few minutes to “get my bearings” and become more completely awake. I am alone this morning. Not just alone-because-I’m-by-myself, but also alone because most everything is precisely where I, myself, have placed it, and where I expect things to be, and also because the bags and baggage of my house guest are no longer here, and stray odd things my traveling partner brought over, with few exceptions, are also returned to their natural places in the world, more or less; they are not here.  Unsettling initially; apparently it takes me about two weeks to get used to having to detour around stuff that isn’t where it ought to be. I’m over that, already, and enjoying the quiet greatly… and will shortly enjoy some music, some early morning housekeeping, a second cup of coffee… and missing my traveling partner. 🙂

Enjoying missing my traveling partner? How does that even work? I don’t have an answer really, but two weeks with a house guest, a new job, new routines, changing personal care needs, having to stock the fridge with foods I don’t eat, not being able to meditate easily when I want or need to, accommodating other musical taste, other agendas, other interests – and often at the expense of my own – and even being nudged uncomfortably into yielding too often to an utter lack of any semblance of planning, or being considered when plans are made in my absence (almost certainly not the actual literal truth, it just often felt that way)… I still miss my traveling partner, and I’m glad (at least in this moment) to have that luxury for some little while. I need a break to care for myself, and figure out just a little more about how to do so skillfully in the face of guests, family, circumstances, employment – all of the things. lol

The quiet this morning is so very… quiet. When I pause to savor this peaceful moment, I notice that I still hear the ceaseless sound of traffic, the commuter train, the hum of the refrigerator, the occasional patter of raindrops… no simple silence this, it is quiet within, as much as it is quiet around me. That’s the quiet that I’m seeking – isn’t it? I’m not really asking, I’m just noticing, not for the first time, that it is the elusive quiet within myself that is so… elusive. Right. I used the word. Sorry – still on my first coffee. I comment quietly to myself how much more difficult this quiet is to build, to linger on, to enjoy, in the typical rush of a busy work week. Coming home exhausted to find a party in progress has some delight to it, but very little quiet. This particular thing, this finding quiet in the storms and bother of a busy adult life, this is the journey. Well… it’s a journey. It is my journey. 🙂 You can have it too, if you want – we can walk on, together, separately. There’s no limit on who takes this journey, there’s no competition over who walks farther, faster, or who reaches the highest height, or purest moment of awareness; there’s no trophy. There’s also nothing to wait for – gear up, my friends! Whether you lace up sneakers or hiking boots, walk slowly with a cane carrying your coffee in the other hand or wearing a fancy name brand hydration pack, if you begin again – and then begin again – and then again – and every time you falter you walk on from what hurts, and you walk on from what doesn’t work, and you walk on because you enjoy your own forward momentum in life, you’ll find the journey unfolds in its own way… your way. 🙂 Don’t worry too much about the destination, it’s a thing that seems to change with fair frequency, and has the least relevance to the step being taken “now”. Now is enough. Are you ready to walk on?

For clarity – it’s a metaphor; most sorts of things I struggle with don’t require a literal departure on foot and miles of walking. 🙂 (Some have…) It’s a favorite journey metaphor, for me, because I do walk so much… perhaps you are a runner, and your metaphor for forward momentum in life is a bit faster? Maybe you travel passionately, and your metaphor involves planes, airports, far away terminals, and distant wilderness unseen by amateur eyes? This adventure called life is “choose your own adventure” on levels so deep that even the metaphors are yours to choose, although I’m delighted to share mine with you. 🙂 I like a handy metaphor.

My phone chimes at me, notifying me of… something. I’ve no idea what. I had my last phone for literally years before I worked out how I wanted all the notifications to sound, and which would be silenced entirely. I’m beginning again. I’ve at least “tamed” them for now; the sounds are pleasant. The sounds are also pretty pointless. For now they communicate nothing much, only that on some form of incoming communication media that isn’t the phone, someone is trying to reach me. LOL I have to check to see whether I want to check to see what it is. Hopefully within days, I’ll know by sound what message app is pinging my consciousness, and whether I care to respond immediately or later, without anything but the notification chime alerting me; it’s a huge savings in mental bandwidth.

Life has a certain amount of natural order. I sip my coffee and enjoy that.

Life has a certain amount of natural order. I sip my coffee and enjoy that.

It’s a Monday morning. There are practices that precede the commute. Today, it’s enough to practice. Tomorrow, I can begin again. 🙂

I woke up feeling quite a bit better, but woke to the alarm. Infernal beeping. I dragged myself up on one elbow to find the alarm, and managed to shut it off, while also sweeping everything on my nightstand onto the floor. I sigh out loud, “Okay Wednesday,” I say softly into the darkness, “have it your way.” Turning on the light isn’t a complicated task, but I’m wobbly, unsteady, and a little dizzy. I didn’t sleep well for that last bit, and woke at an uncomfortably groggy point in my sleep cycle. I head for the shower, careening off the walls as I go, clumsy, uncoordinated…and unconcerned about it. I forget I have the option to slow down.

A shower, hot coffee, and yoga later and I feel alert, and definitely improved over yesterday. The interrupted restless sleep is taking its toll, though, and I frown wondering what I can do to get more better rest; I’m really starting to feel sleep deprived. I smile to myself; being aware of it is a big improvement.

Another coffee. Meditation. I considered not writing. This is all very practical uninteresting stuff, here, without much substance – a life being lived. Just one life. Just one set of choices. Very little drama. It doesn’t lend itself well to profundity or insight to feel so content, perhaps… I think I’d give up writing before I would give up contentment, and feel no resentment over the exchange at all. 🙂

Still…practices are what they are because they are ongoing. This is one such; a few minutes taken for/with myself, facing the woman in the mirror with frankness, and authenticity. Open to change. Checking out life’s menu for new options. Making my way in the world. So, I write a few words…

My thoughts are elsewhere this morning. My new phone will likely arrive today – that’s equal parts exciting and frightening, with a touch of inconvenient, just having to set it all up all over yet again. “Begin again” I say to myself, and I smile. It isn’t always an easy thing. It is, however, a thing.

Time to face the day…

IMAG8161

Full house this morning. My traveling partner and his son still sleeping, the apartment feels very quiet. I’ll probably be gone for the day long before they wake. I made it through the work day fairly comfortably, yesterday. I face today feeling confident I’ll manage, in spite of continued cold symptoms, and generally feeling somewhat miserable with the commonplace stuffy head nonsense slowly migrating into my chest for future misery with the congested chest nonsense next week. Maybe it won’t go that way… experience suggests otherwise. Do I have a preference? Is that even a question that makes any sense?

I breathe deeply – and set off a coughing fit. The coughing fit somehow results in looking into the kitchen light – long enough to start me sneezing, immediately after finishing with the coughing. I break out in a sweat, as though it amounts to real exertion. My fitness tracker disagrees, insisting I am “inactive”. I sneer at it dismissively, playfully retorting “you don’t know me” aloud, quietly. I smile that I’m “keeping my voice low” to prevent waking people; I ran the burr grinder for my coffee, have had multiple fits of coughing or sneezing, and closed the bathroom door on my hand earlier, resulting in quite an audible yelp of pain. So. I’m pretty sure sassing my fitness tracker isn’t going to be the thing that woke the household. 🙂 Funny human primates. Even on small courtesies we lack perspective.

Life looks different this morning than it did two weeks ago. I’ve lost 40 hours of my time each week, and gained valued resources in the exchange of life-force for currency. My traveling partner and I talk “next steps”, and about the future together. His restless heart yearns to move about his universe, exploring, traveling, seeing sights, and tasting adventure. Mine yearns for a safe haven after a lifetime of stormy seas and rootless wandering. Sometimes it sounds a poor fit, the two of us together, and this morning I savor how very well it suits me, to be here, safe, wrapped in contentment, a welcoming harbor for a traveler’s homecoming. This works for us. Later there will be stories shared, hugs, kisses (well… once I’m over this cold), and time well-spent, because we spent it together. Enough? More than enough.

In what direction will the journey unfold, now? What next steps can I see? Are there others, worthy useful others, I may be inclined to overlook? Do I want what my lover wants? Where our desires differ… who decides? Life is a solo hike; sometimes we share the journey alongside another, but it’s our hike to make, bearing the weight of our own burdens, and the consequences of our own choices. I am my own cartographer. Will I “pack light” and move quickly through life committed to a plan, without pausing to enjoy it? The map is not the world. The plan is not the experience. Will I struggle under the weight of my baggage, mile by mile, exhausted and cranky, but well-equipped for the unlikely odd circumstance? We are each having our own experience. How do I share life’s journey with skill, however briefly?

I sip my coffee, losing interest in the metaphor in favor of some distraction, already forgotten.

Where will the journey take me?

Where will the journey take me?

…And still the household sleeps. I look at my list for the day and realize I’ve overlooked meditation. Practices work best with verbs involved. It’s time to set aside the written word for a while. Today is a good day for practicing practices, and for good self-care. Today is a good day to invest in wellness. Today is a good day to slow down, and enjoy the journey. 🙂