Archives for posts with tag: the clock is ticking

Ring, Zing, Buzz

March 24, 2024 //

I’m waiting for the sun on a Sunday morning. The forecast is for rain, but it isn’t raining here, now. Across the highway, and further still across some fields, suburban lights glitter low on the horizon. This is no wilderness, although the trail I’ll walk feels at least a bit remote, down along the Tualatin river. Daybreak is approaching. Soon. In the meantime, I sit with my thoughts, listening to passing cars and the ring, zing, buzz of my tinnitus. It’s a quiet morning and at least for now, my tinnitus is the loudest thing I hear.

A break in the clouds reveals the blue of the morning sky. Daybreak is not helpful for walking, this morning. Anyway, I am still waiting for the park gate to open. The lower marsh trail I can reach from this parking space just outside the park is seasonal, and off limits until May. Frankly, some mornings (many), it’s tempting to walk the seasonal trail anyway, although it is off limits this time of year, but doing so would come with additional risks; it’s a lowland trail along the edges of the marsh, often muddy and sometimes flooded in spots. It would be just a bit more stupid to walk it in near darkness than I prefer to be. Also, these sorts of community spaces rely on people following the rules in place to protect them (both the spaces and the people using them), to maintain their beauty for years to come and new generations.

… So, I wait…

I sit with my thoughts, enjoying the stillness. It’s a mild Spring morning and a good one for walking. The cloudy sky hints at rain. I’m glad I spent time in the garden yesterday. Between the gardening and the weather, it definitely feels like Spring here. I’m grateful for the change of seasons. Another new beginning.

I feel a poignant sorrow that my recently deceased dear friend missed the coming of Spring. No tears. I have the sense that she “chose her time”, and I can only honor her memory and respect her choice. I’m okay; we are mortal creatures. I’m fortunate to have shared so much time with her.

The park gate opens with a quiet “clang”. There’s enough light to see the trail. The day and this walk are ahead of me, and that seems like a worthwhile direction to go…

Tags be here now, begin again, do your best, gardening, grief, grieving, how to meditate, meditation, my results vary, perspective, practicing the practices, self-care, sitting with my thoughts, spring, sufficiency, taking care of me, the clock is ticking, walking my own path, what are you planting?, you reap what you sow

Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, grief, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, turning 60, women

Reflections

March 17, 2024 //

I’m relaxing after my morning walk on a nearer more local trail. I slept in this morning, and slipped out of the house after daybreak, leaving my Traveling Partner to sleep awhile longer. I’ve got a plan to make waffles later, and for now these quiet moments of morning watching the sunrise become a new day are mine to enjoy alone.

I am sitting on one of the picnic tables that sit along this stretch of the trail, watching small birds and reflecting on past and current commitments to myself, and my successes and failures over the years. I consider progress I’ve made over time, and how different “a good life” looks to me at 60, compared to 14, 23, 30, or 45… My thinking and my understanding of what I want in life has changed quite a lot over time. Certainly, at 14 I had no idea how much pure effort is involved in “living well”, let alone how I would come to define that after I had experienced some living.

I still find myself yearning for “easy”, far more than I ever yearn(ed) for recognition or fortune, and it amuses and humbles me to finally find myself having to acknowledge that, like a lot of life’s sweet treats, “ease” is best taken in moderation. The more of it I have, the more often I indulge, the more likely I may also find myself struggling later on to maintain my wellness or health in some other area of life. There’s a balance to be struck.

I sit feeling the effects of physical exertion. Feeling the rising sun on my face. Breathing the cool morning air. A small bird stops on the table, very near to me. I hold quite still to avoid startling her into flight. She looks me over and picks at unseen crumbs while I wonder how hard birds must work just to survive. I think I must have it relatively easy, by comparison. Useful perspective.

I’ve been working towards increasing the amount of effort I put in day-to-day, without exhausting myself or breaking down this fragile vessel. This isn’t new; I’ve “been here before”. I’m hoping to improve my fitness and my wellness, generally. I’d like to be around a good long time more… In spite of the chaos of the world, my own wee slice of suburban paradise is rather nice, and I enjoy life and love and time spent with my Traveling Partner and my friends. I’m not interested in “going out with a bang”, nor do I want to quietly fade away. I want most to live well, and live simply, and enjoy the life I live for all the days I can. Recent reminders that we are mortal creatures are less depressing than they are simply a reminder that the clock is always ticking.

… I wonder what the future holds, as I take off my hiking boots and put my sneakers back on. I think about the garden and wonder if I would do well to pick up a watering can for watering the seedlings in the veggie bed. These questions strangely seem to have similar significance and magnitude for me on this relaxed Sunday morning. I suppress a laugh and the little bird flies away.

… I remember that I’ve planned to drain and clean and refill the hot tub today and wonder if I actually will… Have I got it in me? Should I give myself a break and do it next weekend?

I take a breath and exhale with a sigh and a smile, and prepare to walk back to the car, wondering if I have everything I need to make waffles…? I know I have what I need to find satisfaction, joy, and contentment in my life. There are verbs involved…

… And it’s time to begin again.

Tags be here now, begin again, choose your adventure, defining success, do the verbs, do you?, finding the path, I'll be in the garden, it ain't easy, it's a journey, it's a metaphor, life's lessons, Living Well, making the effort, meditation, my results vary, perspective, practicing the practices, stay on the path, sufficiency, the clock is ticking, the journey is the destination, there are verbs involved, walk it off, walking meditation, we are mortal creatures, what progress looks like, your results may vary

Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, turning 60, weight loss secrets

Inspiration

January 13, 2019 //

My coffee, well, the remaining swallow in the bottom of my cup, has been cold for a while now. I was up at 5:30 am (on a Sunday), after a long, deliciously restful night of sleep, that began much earlier than usual. Reasons. I was tired. lol

I’ve “wasted” the entire morning writing. It’s not actually wasted time, though, any more than it is “wasted time” when I am inspired creatively, head to the studio, and work relentlessly for hours without producing any completed work. That’s not “wasted” time – it’s used time. Spent time. Passed time. It’s time no longer available to me in the future, sure – but it is not “wasted”. I reset my expectations and understanding of myself, contentedly, and notice the time with more real awareness. It’s still early (ish). Plenty of day ahead of me, even now.

I finish off my cold coffee, and consider a second cup. Then I consider going to the grocery store. Then I also consider tidying up, and having a shower. I consider the lack of peanuts for squirrels, sodas for guests, and clean socks for me. I consider the housekeeping that keeps me smiling when I return home from work. I consider the vacuuming that needs to be done. I consider the dishes. I consider having breakfast. I make a point of noticing that the kink in my neck I woke with yesterday is gone this morning.

The day is ahead of me. No list. Yet. I consider making one. I also consider simply setting a timer and doing a “drunkard’s walk” through the tidying and chores – one of my favorite ways to get ahead on a ton of minutiae is to set a timer for one hour, and just do things in the order that they catch my attention. I find it exceedingly efficient if I’m “not sure where to start”, and when I’m dithering. 🙂 It’s a tad too random for noteworthy chaos; still works, but the end result might not be as orderly and obvious as you’d hope, for such a scenario. Best to have (and execute) a plan for serious disorder and untidiness. lol

I could do both… I could make a list, and then disregard it. LOL It wouldn’t be the first time. 😉

I take stock of the day’s potential, and decide to begin again, where I began in the first place; with a cup of coffee. 😀

Tags be the change, begin again, being and becoming, choose wisely, experience, good self-care, I am my own cartographer, inspiration, my home my rules my way, perspective, practicing the practices, ptsd, taking care of me, TBI, The Art of Being, the clock is ticking, the map is not the world, there are verbs involved, time is finite for mortal creatures, time well-spent is not time wasted, walking my own path, we are mortal, what matters most?

Categories Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, inspiration, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices

Tonight

February 5, 2014 //

I look in the mirror and see so much more than ‘me’ tonight. There are tears queued up just behind my eyes, felt more than seen. Eyes red. Signs of age. Why am I weeping? Tears cascading down unprovoked. My heart feels strangely light. I walked a while in the night air, feeling the softness of a spattering of rain drops. Smelling the flowers of coastal California, somehow recognizably different from ‘home’. Where exactly is ‘home’ these days? Somewhere in my heart, I guess, not quite on a map that has any reality outside my own experience. I find myself wondering what a ‘map of the world’ might look like if the scale and importance were determined by my recollections and experience, only, rather than what ‘is’ – or seems to be.

The night tells its own stories.

Tonight I had dinner with an old friend. That seems simple enough. Out of town, on business, catch up with old friends… it happens in every city every day, I’m sure. We talked about challenges and old heartache, of friends, and changes, and loved ones now gone. We talked of triumphs, and wonder. We talked of love and growth. We laughed.

Why am I weeping? I’m not sad, exactly. I’m not wounded. I’m not grieving. Hell… I just had a great time, connected and deep, and transcending time and space, with a friend I’ve missed a while and love to hang out with. We’re open with each other. The conversations we share are deep; they always have been. Why am I weeping? Is this what having a heart feels like?

Emotions are strange. I’m okay. I’m… moved. Deeply moved by the pleasure of a good friend’s company. Moved by how good it feels to be human and connected and able to feel so much so deeply. Tears fall. I’m still okay, and there’s nothing ‘wrong’ at all.

Stillness, perspective, and a cup of tea.

Moments come and go. Challenges rise, and we rise to face them. Truths in life are revealed, and accepted, rejected, denied, or held dear. There’s always time, and rarely enough. Aren’t the laughter and the tears just part of it all? Part of this human experience? My tears dry as I make a cup of tea and ponder life’s ponderables. Slowly the sounds of traffic outside my window overcome the sound of stillness in my hotel room.

I’m not a little girl anymore. 50. I still make mistakes. I make a lot more of them that I’d like. Tonight I learned that one of those is how little I invest in some of the relationships I hold most dear, allowing myself to coast on what has been. It’s a poor investment practice, when the return is so high to choose differently – and really, at any time, we could be … or not be. Snuffed out like a candle at bedtime. Finished like a writing assignment on a deadline. Done. Gone. Ended. Over. No longer on the premises. The chances to be with my friends are not unlimited. Life is not unlimited. Time is not unlimited. I will make different choices. This matters too much to me; I can tell by the quantity of tears and the pure relief of seeing an old friend again, even for a couple of hours.

Tonight I am grateful. Grateful for love. Grateful for good friends. Grateful for those few precious relationships in which I feel visible and understood. Those feelings are powerful – certainly worth tolerating a few tears. Tonight I am thinking of you, my dearest friends, and all my loves – then and now and evermore. I miss you – out there, somewhere, in the night. I hope you are each and all warm and safe and dry, that you have what you need and more, and that you feel loved, and welcomed wherever you are right now. Take care, and be well – and let’s get together soon.

❤

Tags a quiet cup of tea, friends, let's talk, letting the night share its stories, mindfulness, ptsd, TBI, tears, the clock is ticking, what matters most?

Categories Brain Injury, Free Will, Love, Mindfulness, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Words

Ring, Zing, Buzz

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