I’m feeling better. Enough better to really enjoy a walk in the chilly autumn air before dawn. Refreshing like a cold drink of ice water on a hot day.
[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]
It is cold, though. Above freezing, but only barely. I’m grateful for this warm sweater and the fleecy cardigan I added to that as I left the house this morning. The cold manages to feel more refreshing than anything else. I’m glad to resume my morning walk. It just “feels right”. I definitely needed the rest I got from taking a break from my walking for a handful of days. I’m glad I yielded to my Traveling Partner’s strong recommendations that I stay home, get some rest, and give myself a break.
When I am sick, one of the things that is notably impaired is my judgement, along with my impulse control. In other relationships, this has lead to things like me going out in a snow storm to take a city bus to the closest location of a specific fast food chain at my then-partner’s behest, in spite of being feverish and struggling to breathe when I had the latest hideous strain of flu. It sounds ridiculous without any embellishments or storytelling strategies. I was so sick I was having to sleep sitting up – but my fucking partner still sent me out in a snowstorm for a fucking cheeseburger. I very nearly missed the last bus back before the roads were shut down and the buses stopped running completely.
…He complained that the burger was cold by the time I got it home to him…
I sigh to myself. I didn’t even understand at the time that I was being taken advantage of, which still feels more than a little embarrassing, now.
I’m grateful to enjoy a relationship with a partner who looks out for me, now. Being cared for truly feels really good. I’m always looking for ways to return the favor. Partnership; we’re in it together.
The weekend is coming. I’d take off on my own and give my beloved a break from having me around so much while I’m sick, but I did that last weekend. We don’t have it like that. Besides, I’d probably do well not to rush myself back into the full measure of work and busy-ness, immediately. I sit at the halfway point of my walk thinking it over. A short work day today makes sense. Maybe a gentle weekend close to home, and time in the studio, or reading quietly? Coffee with my Traveling Partner, over conversation about our radios, perhaps? Quiet and gentle sounds good.
The cold morning nudges back to my feet. It’s some time before sunrise, and there’s only a hint of daybreak to be seen. I’ve got a busy (short) day ahead… May as well begin again, and get started on it. This path won’t walk itself!
… For most values of “fine”. I’m also sick. Not so sick I’m shut down completely, but sick enough that I am exhausted by the smallest effort: getting dressed, walking across the house, filling a glass with water from the tap.
[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]
The fatigue I can manage. I could do without the headache, though.
… One brief, practical, errand has me up, then it’s probably back to bed, and definitely off my feet. So tired. At my Traveling Partner’s concerned urging, I took today off to rest properly. After this errand, I will. (Rest, I mean.) He’s right, I’ve been pushing myself too hard and justifying it by pointing out that I’m “not that sick”. Stupid. It’s been preventing me getting over it completely. So, I concede, having acknowledged that I am sick and do need to slow down and care for myself. I’m grateful for the way he looks out for me.
… Keep your vaccinations up to date, People, lives are at stake, and one of them is yours.
I breathe, exhale, and relax. I’ve just got to to this one thing, then home and back to bed. G’damn I’m a fucking idiot. 😆 I should have stayed home in bed.
… Move along, please, nothing to see here… 😆 I can begin again on Thursday.
It’s fine. I’m fine. Everything is “fine”… Sort of. Mostly.
[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]
I’m down with a headcold and pinched by circumstances between time sensitive work crap no one will remember a year from now, and my partner griefing me to take better care of myself.
…So I stopped working, and I’m going back to bed. These stupid human meat suits are always breaking down in one disappointing way or another. At least this is just a headcold. Could be worse.
I stretch my aching body. Virus. I sigh irritably and have a sip of tea. Soothing. I’ll nap and begin again later.
When I originally planned my holiday time, it was with consideration of being new in my role, leading a team through a very busy season, and expecting I might still be scrambling to finish some holiday task or another. As it has turned out, my team is stronger than I knew and capable of getting the job done when I’m unavailable. I’m also finished with the holiday preparation. I don’t really need “more time”, but I did get quite sick after I returned from traveling for work. Turns out my plan to work half days this week (and taking the Eve and Giftmas Day off entirely) is a much appreciated adjustment to my work schedule as I get over being ill. Convenient.
Yesterday after work I focused on self-care. I feel a bit more better this morning than yesterday morning. The first thing in the morning congestion and coughing didn’t last as long, and my sinuses required fewer tissues. Small win, but still worth appreciating. I’ve got another short day today… for which I am deeply grateful. I may not actually have an entire work shift in me, quite yet. I am at least able to get a walk, and add a mile or two on these boots before the work day begins. The walking seems to help clear the congestion in my lungs.
The morning is another mild one. It rained more during the night, but for now the cloudy sky is only that. The trail is dotted with puddles. Slippery leaves are scattered here and there. I walk carefully, with my cane keeping me steady. I breathe – as deeply as I am able – filling my lungs with the rain-fresh “winter” air of the Pacific Northwest. Everything smells clean and fresh and healthy. Holiday lights on apartment balconies shine through the trees from across the creek that meanders past this section of the trail. The morning is quiet and dark. Daybreak won’t come for another hour.
“Morning! Coming up on your left!” I hear, behind me, the voice of a stranger. Another walker – the older gentleman I spotted a few mornings ago. “Nice morning for it,” I reply as he approaches and begins to pass me. “I hope I didn’t startle you, Miss, I tried not to.” He sounds friendly and not at all threatening. We walk abreast momentarily. He shares that he’s seen me walking in the mornings and admits that it inspired him to walk more.
Turns out he’s the night security guy for the construction site on the other side of the parking lot, and began getting a walk in at the end of his shift, on this trail so convenient to the job site. He wishes me a good morning as he walks on ahead (at a faster pace on longer legs). I return his well wishes, grateful to have my solitude returned, and appreciative of a stranger’s consideration. Nonetheless, as I walk I feel for the knife in my pocket, and move it to my left hand, keeping my sturdy trekking pole in my right hand for balance. Oh, I’m not any sort of intimidating character or threat, nor am I inclined towards violence, but I’d take advantage of a lifetime of suppressed ancient rage to make an attacker rethink their life choices by defending myself, in order to enjoy another mortal day in the arms of my beloved Traveling Partner.
My hyper-vigilance is aroused by this passing stranger in the darkness, which seems unsurprising. I don’t take it too seriously; I’ve come a long way over the years, and this won’t wreck my day. It barely qualifies as “triggered”, and mostly seems useful, reasonable, and manageable. I keep walking, until I reach my halfway point and stop for a moment, to meditate and write.
Even in the darkness, sometimes there is light.
The sky has a familiar faint glow of the light of human communities reflecting back from the clouds overhead. I enjoy the silhouettes of trees and buildings and partially defined shapes of things that seem less obvious. I sit with the quiet, breathing, exhaling, relaxing, and filling up on the feeling of peace and stillness of the moment. I enjoy the feeling of being free to take my time. I enjoy feeling unrushed, unharried, and unbothered.
… Happy Holidays, however you celebrate the season…
I smile, remembering that I need to pick up a holiday pie, later this morning (then find myself wondering if I’m supposed to pick it up tomorrow… and suddenly wonder what day it even is? (Then double-check the date). I chuckle to myself. A human being, being human. A soft sprinkling of rain begins to fall. Predictable. No surprise in rain falling here, this time of year. I pull my folded rain poncho from my pocket, where I had shoved it as I got out of the car “just in case”, and put it on. The rain stops. I’m grateful to be prepared.
A small herd of deer steps shyly from the trees and walks across the trail into the grass at the edge of the vineyard, a short distance away. They are aware of me, but don’t seem concerned. I watch them. They watch me. When the rain begins again, I stand and stretch, and the deer walk away slowly, down the grassy strip along the path, before veering more deeply into the vineyard. I turn the other direction, looking down the trail towards the too-bright lights of the construction site around which the trail eventually wraps. (I wonder how this trail will change after that hotel is finished?)
I sigh quietly, contentedly, breathing the damp winter air, grateful for the mild morning. I enjoy these moments… and it is time to begin again. There are more, other, moments to enjoy… further down the path.
I’m mostly over my recent bout of whatever miserable illness struck me (and my Traveling Partner, and step-son). I’ve got a lingering cough, which frankly is no surprise to me – it’s nearly always the outcome of any sort of respiratory illness for me. It’s a byproduct of damage incurred from a combination of childhood illness and military injuring (those oil fires did me no good). It’ll pass, just takes me a bit longer than it otherwise might.
The new job starts tomorrow. Exciting. There’s ongoing forward momentum with my Traveling Partner’s business, too. It feels wonderful to support that, and even to help. Today I took next steps getting an Etsy page set up (almost done with that…). One thing at a time. Like any journey, it’s about next steps and incremental progress over time. I think about other details that I can add to the new page… a friendly shop-video walking future customer’s through our shop, and sharing our thoughts about how we make products, and what inspires us, maybe? Additional listings. Things like that – basic stuff.
…A lot of life’s richness and complexity is built on very basic stuff. That seems worth thinking about…
I sit in the studio, with the fragrances of scented shower fizzies filling the room. I am reminded that there are a couple more scents I meant to make batches of this weekend… cucumber-melon, lavender (a favorite), and something that smells like a rainy autumn walk. So many luscious scents to delight me in the shower – I want to make them all! The new batches of chocolate-orange and meadow flowers are lovely. (I find myself wondering if it’s too soon to take another shower, already…?)
In spite of the lingering hints that I’ve been ill recently, I’m enjoying the weekend with my Traveling Partner. Some video gaming. Some video watching. Some cooking. Some laundry. Some crafting and making. Nothing fancy – all of it’s been very “basic” quiet living sort of stuff… but… isn’t that what life is built upon? The small delights? The everyday pleasures? The time and care taken on things that are utterly routine? Life’s lasting adventure is built on small steps forward, not so much the grand gestures or big moments – those are rare, which is fitting for the way they hit our consciousness so much harder in spite of how fleeting they truly are. I find so much value in being present in the small moments and the basic stuff. I savor this one, with my now-cold coffee long-forgotten on the edge of my desk, just one sweet pleasant moment of so many… it’s too easy to overlook how many lovely moments there really are, if I am constantly rushing from one “big deal” to another, without pausing for breath.
…I pause for breath…
Life isn’t “perfect” (see the opening paragraph; I’m still not 100% over being sick, for starters, and on top of that I was born a human primate, so… there’s that). It’s not bad though. Hell, it’s better than bad… it’s good. I sit here smiling quietly. This is enough. More than enough. This is pretty fucking sweet, generally speaking, and I’m contented and sometimes even actually “happy”. That’s a very subjective condition, and it stymies me how similar circumstances are across the entirety of my life – there were a lot of moments in which I could have been far happier than I actually was, but… I wasn’t. At this point, I think that was (in many cases) as much because I just didn’t know how to be that thing we call “happy”, every bit as much as it had anything to do with the specifics of my life in that moment. Kind of a lot, actually. How peculiar. I can’t go back in time and “fix that”… but… you know what I can do? Revisit some of those moments through my recollections, and enjoy that moment then from my perspective of now. I don’t mean to suggest that I’m griefing myself over how I felt at that time – no good would come of that. I’m just taking time to recall something pleasant, doing so in great detail, and also letting go of any lingering baggage that may have become attached to that time, place, or relationship, and just… enjoying what I can about that time, then. It tends to reduce the lasting misery of miserable times, by undercutting the memory of the misery, and giving a wee boost to the memories of joy, however brief, fleeting, or impotent they seemed then. Worthwhile.
I pause again, this time to cough. It’s time to begin again. Some hot tea, perhaps…?
