Archives for posts with tag: walk on

The woman in my reflection stares pensively outward at some thought that isn’t a visible detail. My coffee sits nearby, untouched, sweating condensation into a pool on the desk. I should do something about that, I think, when I notice. The news annoys me. How can people – especially people of means and good fortune – be so incredibly petty, cruel, inconsiderate, and hateful? I don’t “get it”. I don’t think I actually understood that crap when it filled my own head. Untested assumptions, bullshit I was taught, terrible habits and so much ignorance… I definitely don’t understand it now.

…Feels like we’re all standing on quicksand somehow, these days, only very few people seem to be aware of it… or willing to find something firm to stand on…

I sigh to myself, and stand fast on my personal commitment to be the best version of myself that I can be, knowing what I know, seeing the world as I do, and having the skills I have. I’m certain to fail myself – and others – now and then. I’m very human, but I’m going to do my best to be a better human being today than I was yesterday, because it actually fucking matters. It matters every day, and in every interaction.

What about you? What are you doing to “make the world a better place”, you know, for everyone? You don’t need to tell me, just do the verbs. We become what we practice.

G’damn, I’m so tired this morning. Nightmares all night of strange terrifying things – hallways that never end. Doors that won’t unlock. Empty shelves and people dying of starvation, disease, and fire. Crawling terrified and silently beneath a shower of bullets in the darkness. I woke up choking – it’s just seasonal allergies that last bit, but it was an unpleasant way to wake up from a dream of chemical warfare and endless night. The commute to work was weird, too. The traffic going the opposite direction was quite dense and seemed to be moving faster than usual. There was no traffic at all going my way. I had the road to myself. It was so strange and surreal, for just a second I wondered if there had been some disaster or evacuation that I was unaware of, ahead of me. It was a chilling thought.

“The Nightmare City” 8″ x 10″ acrylic on canvas w/glow

I’m mired in the gloom lingering from a night spent in The Nightmare City. I sip my coffee and work on letting that go.

Daybreak comes, and the sky beyond the window is ordinary enough, some blue, some clouds. There’s pleasant Spring weather in the forecast, however ugly the news is, however tragic and ridiculous our government has become. It’s a strange juxtaposition of circumstances and for the moment I miss my Traveling Partner and the safety of home, more than I can stand. I’d rather be in my garden, planting and weeding, and paying no mind to the world that often disappoints me so very much. Too much death, too much greed, too much warfare, and g’damn – too many terrible petty hateful people. I’ll choose my own path, thanks, and go a different direction. Not because I have to, but because I can – and it seems a choice worth making.

What will you choose? Where does your path lead? It’s time to begin again…

I watched the moon setting as I walked this local trail this morning. Lovely. It’s not quite a full moon, but as I drove to the trailhead. it was plump and luminous, a beautiful pearl in the night sky.

I snap a picture from the parking lot.

The moon began to turn a ruddy antique gold sort of hue as it sunk lower on the horizon, still enough to light the way. I cross the parking lot pleased to start down the path in a westerly direction. I am enjoying watching the moon set, over the vineyards, and through the trees.

I walked with my thoughts, watching the moon, listening to the birds singing unseen in the trees and shrubs along the path. Another work day, but all that begins later and I don’t think much about it as I walk. This is not that moment. I’m also not thinking about the world, nor mired in the crap going on beyond this moment on this trail. It’s a pleasant morning and I embrace the calm, the joy, and the simplicity of this bit of “now” right here.

When I get to my halfway point I sit down to write a bit. I choose a spot that faces east and watch daybreak becoming dawn. My head is kind of stuffy; Spring allergies. I remind myself to pick up more allergy medicine at the drugstore later, and wonder if the price will have gone up? I let that go and grin happily, noticing a plump robin near my feet, ignoring me while he checks out the surroundings looking for something tasty. Then I shift uncomfortably. Arthritis pain. I let that go too, while I can, and pull myself back to other aspects of here and now. The fragrant Spring air is slightly chilly but not unpleasant.

My Traveling Partner pings me a loving greeting and I am reminded of the passing of time. It’s s new day. Stuff to do. Other moments to live and enjoy. Looks like it’s time to begin again. I finish my writing and brush some moss off my jeans as I stand and turn back on the trail.

I woke up abruptly this morning, lights on at full brightness. I’ve felt like I’m “running behind” ever since, though it is an entirely ordinary day in most regards. Well, not really, it’s a birthday (Happy Birthday shout out to the Anxious Adventurer!). I’ve some things to do related to that event, later, and a plan to cram the full measure of my work day into the next 4 hours, and cut the work day short. I sip my (terrible) (iced) coffee and consider the day, and this moment right here. Things seem pretty okay, although I’ve got my headache riding shotgun this morning, and my arthritis has reduced my mobility considerably (I’m very stiff this morning), and I’ve got a weird pain in my left side, like a cramp or something, higher up than my kidneys, lower down than my heart, somewhere just below-not-quite-inside my ribcage. It’s vexing me. It doesn’t come and go with my heart beat, but it’s also not steady. A dull ache that waxes and wanes in a sort of arbitrary way.

…I probably talk about pain too much…

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I sip my coffee and think my thoughts.

A colorful distraction

A moment of whimsy distracts me from my bullshit. There are bags of colorful gumballs on the desk adjacent to mine (which is otherwise bare). I laughed with delight when I first walked in and saw them, and they catch my eye again, now. The colors delight me. I enjoy color. I once dressed all in black, and had a lot of “stuff” that was also black, but it’s generally been as a backdrop to things that are quite colorful as contrast. (I learned late in life how much more powerfully a neutral gray background can highlight bold colors – maybe there’s a metaphor in there somewhere?) I don’t wear much black these days. Some, not a lot. I’m not all that gloomy or negative about life, generally, nor am I as serious as I sometimes may seem. I paint in colors. I decorate in colors. I enjoy colorful light. I don’t know what I’m trying to communicate here – certainly I have no beef with people who choose to wrap themselves in black. The colors we choose say things about who we are, but it’s not for me to say what things they say. You do you. Please. Definitely be who you are – the best of who you are. No one else can do that as well as you can.

A happy colorful space.

I think about my office, which was previously also my studio. I’ve decorated it for my comfort. It’s a place I can retreat to to meditate, to read, to work, or just to chill in a moment of solitude. It is a colorful space, comfy and cozy, and too small for everything in it, which seems to suit me just fine. I don’t like clutter, though, actually, and I find that yielding to clutter creates chaos in my thinking and my experience of life, generally, so I like to avoid that if I can. My Traveling Partner knows this about me, and when recently cleaning my computer for me, he noticed that my desk had become a bit messy. Understanding how much this vexes me, and how little time for tidying up I’ve had lately (and how little energy), he suggested adding a couple little drawers under my desk.

What love looks like.

He 3D printed the little drawers for me in colors that delight me and fit the color scheme in my office (yes, I think pastel rainbow colors and lavender, green, and pink are entirely acceptable office colors LOL). I sat down to a new opportunity to create order from chaos, and once again my desk is quite tidy and free of messiness or disorder. It’s lovely. I worked efficiently all day, smiling and grateful to be so loved.

Today I am in the office, and honestly it is a disappointingly bland space. Earth tones, white, black trim, very “corporate”, very neutral, wholly uninteresting – some days I find it hard to work here. The bags of gumballs made me smile. I don’t know why they are here, placed where they are. This space, and this day, needed some measure of whimsy. I feel merry in spite of my pain. It’s a good start to the day.

I sip my (dreadful) coffee and think about the path I’m on. This path that I’ve been on now for some 15 years, I suppose. This path I’ve chosen to walk, that leads me… where? When I “get there”, will I know it? When I get there, where will I be? “The journey is the destination.” I say it a lot, as a reminder that my choices, words, and actions right now matter every bit as much as whatever awaits me out there in the future, further along the path. I’m not perfect – but perfect isn’t the goal. I only want to be the most me, the best version of the woman I most want to be, that I possibly can be – knowing what I know now, and using the full measure of my abilities as they are, and working each day to become just a little more of who I could be. Some days it doesn’t feel like much of a goal – other days I’ve no idea why I set the bar so high. lol Depends on where I am in the moment, I suppose.

Who are you at your best? Who do you most want to be? How often do you ask yourself these questions and take action on your answers? Are you walking your path with your eyes open? When your birthday comes around, do you take an honest look in the mirror and reflect on who you have become, and whether this is who you most want to be?

Dawn comes. The sky is dull and gray this morning, and I’m grateful that I can fill my world with color, anyway. Color that I choose. Color that fills me with joy. Color that reflects agency and whimsy and lessons learned over time. There are so many choices in life’s Strange Diner. So many lessons learned over time. I choose my path, and I walk it.

The clock is ticking. What will you choose, next? It’s time to begin again.

I stop along the trail for a message from my Traveling Partner about a housekeeping detail. I’d rather it would have been a greeting or a love note, but it was not. It was a complaint (phrased as a request for action). It’s not an unreasonable request, not at all, and I add it to my list of shit to do without further discussion.

It’s a new day. What will you make of it?

Once upon a time, I was often the most negative person in most groups or conversations. I was cynical, irritable, easily angered, frustrated, and disappointed with people and circumstances, and I found very little joy in life. I complained a lot, about a lot of things, often. I told myself I was funny but that couldn’t have been much fun to be around. I sip my coffee and reflect on how much less often I complain about things these days and how much joy and contentment I find in life, generally. I’m in a very different place. (It took work and practice to get here.)

It isn’t that there is actually less in the world to complain about (I mean, seriously? We’re basically watching the world burn). I don’t find value in complaining as a form of communication, in my relationships. It has its place, I suppose. The negativity of it grates on my nerves. There are better ways. Kind frankness and gentle words are more comfortable to receive and more pleasant to act upon, day-to-day. My Traveling Partner, long ago, asked me to be less negative, and since then I’ve walked a very different path – and I’m glad I did (although it turned out he meant something different by it). I enjoy my life so much more. That’s the thing about negativity; it’s emotionally corrosive, and undermines joy, limits satisfaction, and creates discontent. Who needs that?

I get it, though, it’s so easy to be negative about unpleasant experiences and circumstances. So satisfying to complain – like picking at a scab (and it has about as much real value). A constant stream of negativity and complaining isn’t pleasant to be around, though, and it may result in the loss of relationships or connections with people who just don’t have the energy or will to endure it. Something to think about, eh? Certainly my own relationships have improved greatly since I gave up chronic complaining as a “feature” of my character. I still make an occasional complaint or negative observation; I’m very human. I don’t live my life in that place, emotionally, though. Complaining rarely improves anything; it is action that creates change. I get more done by embracing change, taking action to make my life what I most want to live, and by seeking out joy. It takes far fewer harsh words and frankly just feels better as an experience. I didn’t change the world; I changed the way I experience it. Worth it.

Walk on. It’s not personal.

I smile to myself. I’m having my own experience. It’s a lovely morning. I get to my feet and back on the trail. It’s a good day to begin again.

I’m sitting in the artificial twilight of a lamppost at the edge of my preferred local trail. It’s not yet fully dawn, but there’s a hint of daybreak in the changing color of the sky. I caught myself scrolling through the news headlines, though there is nothing there worth reading. Nothing new. Mostly intentionally distressing – or selling something. I put it aside. I don’t benefit in any way from becoming sucked into that garbage.

I think about stumbling on the trail a few moments ago. I caught myself, didn’t fall, but it was a moment of inattention and the outcome could have been worse. There’s something to learn there. It’s a metaphor. In a sense, scrolling through the news feed mindlessly is another sort of stumble. Disregarding healthy portion control when I struggle with my weight? Another stumble. Skipping a planned walk or a workout when I have specific fitness goals? Stumble.

Other lives, other challenges, other ways to stumble on a path. An addict in recovery having “just a little, this one time…”. Stumble. Someone making an important lifestyle change yielding to an old habit. Stumble. Important financial goals overlooked for a little “retail therapy”. Stumble. Giving that toxic relationship another chance. Stumble. It’s so very human to stumble, but we really can catch ourselves, and get back on the path. We really can acknowledge our failures and begin again.

I sit with that thought watching daybreak come, turning the sky blue beyond the dark clouds overhead. It’s okay to fail and begin again. It’s okay to pause on the trail to rest or to reflect. It’s okay to be human. It’s a journey. The journey is the destination.

I think of a far away friend admitting to me that she hadn’t been reading my blog. I was surprised by the admission, not because I expect all my friends and people dear to me to read my writing, but more because she found the admission embarrassing or awkward at all. I’m pretty sure it’s a near inevitability that any one reader will eventually stop reading and move on to other things. lol I see “this place” as a resting point on a journey more than a path. Once my point is made, the rest is perhaps noise. Repetition. I certainly wasn’t hurt by her admission. I’m here. You’re here now. For a moment we travel together whether through coincidence or intention, and we nonetheless each have our own experience. I rarely cross paths “in real life” with someone who reads my writing. She’s rare and delightful in that way. I cherish the experience, but don’t expect it. Our Dear Friend connected us, here, through their conversations about my writing. I was fortunate indeed to eventually sit down with them together over coffee. What a joyful day! When our Dear Friend neared the end of her life, we shared that too. I’m grateful.

Dawn. A new day, and the path ahead is clear. When I see the path and walk it mindfully, I’m less likely to stumble. It’s a very human experience, though, and the path is uneven in spots. There’s still a chance I may stumble, or even fall. When I do, I get up, consider my missteps, and begin again.