I seriously dislike Daylight Savings Time. Doesn’t matter if we’re talking about the change in March or November, it’s beyond annoying. I’m not bitching about it because of the inevitable disruption to my sleep or sense of time and timing, it’s more practical than that; it fucks up my timing on time-sensitive meditations. This messes with my health, my feeling of wellness, my mood, and my general quality of life experience until a few days pass and I am adjusted to the change of timing. Super annoying. Very much over this pointless bullshit exercise.
I am sitting at a favorite trailhead waiting for a break in the rain. It’s a steady fairly heavy downpour this morning and I am already adjusting my expectations. Probably end up heading home without even getting out of the car, this morning, which manages to be far less annoying than the change of the clock. lol Honestly, I’m fine with it. My back is aching ferociously and I woke up with a headache. The rest of the day is probably going to be focused on housekeeping tasks and getting set up for a new work week, and I am fine with that, too.
The rain falls. I sit quietly with my thoughts. I sip my coffee. I meditate. I feel contented and generally satisfied, in spite of my pain. I breathe, exhale, and relax, listening to the rain fall. It’s a new day, and a chance to begin again.
By the time I reached the trailhead this morning, there was a steady rain falling. When I left the house it was a barely noticeable fine mist, and I expected it to diminish, or at least pause, giving me a lovely opportunity to walk this favorite trail alone, early on a Saturday morning. I sip the coffee I bought on the way, and listen to the patter of raindrops on the windshield and sunroof of the car. I’m not annoyed or impatient; there’s still a chance the rain may stop before I give up and head home.
Waiting for a break in the rain.
The morning is a pretty mild one. If the rain stops I’ll get into the garden and do something… maybe weed the flower beds, or do a bit of careful pruning. My Traveling Partner invited me to join him in the shop at some point today, too. The weekend is shaping up to be a pleasant one full of good times and things to do. I smile thinking about the rain falling on the garden beds and the lawn. I feel safe and contented, and relaxed and comfortable with myself and my experience. I sit enjoying the moment for a while.
I think about my dear friend, so recently deceased. No tears this morning, just warmth and fond gratitude that I had the chance to enjoy so much of her devoted deep friendship for so many years. I am fortunate indeed. I miss her greatly. So many Saturday mornings my first email would be from her, a reply to, or question about, whatever I had written about that morning. I feel a moment of heartfelt pain every time I remember that she won’t be emailing me anymore. No texts. No calls. No unexpected little somethings in the mail. No comments on pictures of photos I shared with her. Sometimes it’s hard to know quite how to move on from that.
The rain continues to fall. I sit awhile longer, just listening and thinking my thoughts. The time isn’t wasted; I enjoy these quiet solitary moments. Soon enough, it’ll be time to begin again.
This morning I am starting my morning close to home. I started the morning on a nearby trail, and watched the sunrise as I walked. The sunrise was hues of orange, gold, and red, and the moment made of pure contentment. Satisfying. Also chilly. Actually, quite cold. At just 28° F, I am super glad I thought to dress quite warmly and always have gloves and a scarf in the car for such mornings. It was too cold to fuss with a camera.
The sky is now a beautiful clear blue. There’s some snow atop distant hillsides, and pockets of mist in the low spots along stream banks and rivers. Rays of sunshine have begun to reach the closest treetops. What a perfectly lovely morning.
It’s a work day. I’ll be working from home today, making it easy to help my Traveling Partner get to an appointment later. I pause for a moment of gratitude that I have the option to work where I choose. It’s a very useful detail. I sigh contentedly and sip my coffee. Just an Americano I picked up before my walk to enjoy afterwards, it’s satisfying and warms my hands. I relax with my coffee enjoying the quiet time between my walk and my workday. It’s a pleasant interlude.
My thoughts wander to the unwelcome experience of receiving a message from an ex this week. (My recently deceased dear friend’s first-born, specifically, seeking to let me know of their mother’s passing.) Rather rudely, the message was sent during the night, and interrupted my sleep, but I wasn’t surprised by the discourtesy. I acknowledged the message in the context of its intention and let it go at that. Almost predictably, my ex followed that up with a new attempt to engage me in dialogue. I turned it over in my head awhile, and even shared it with my Traveling Partner and discussed it with him for additional perspective. My thoughts on the matter didn’t change, and there are good reasons for having cut off contact after the relationship ended (14 years ago, now). Having identified the previously unknown phone number in my contacts as belonging to my ex, I archive the message thread without further reply or action. That, and these few words, are already enough time spent on it.
I sip my coffee, enjoying the relaxed feel of the day as it starts. I gaze into the blue sky, ready to begin again.
I’m taking a minute after my walk, this morning, sitting quietly with the sensations of leg muscles taxed by my pace, and skin chilled by wintry winds, slowly recovering in the warmth of the car. Switching back from my boots to my sneakers with fingers numbed from the morning chill felt awkward and clumsy, and being mildly out of breath from the modest uphill bit of trail back to the parking lot was uncomfortable, but I also feel exhilarated by the freshness of the crisp morning air, and the sense of purpose that lingers even now that I am no longer in motion.
The day looks likely to be a chilly one, but the garden continues to beckon me, and as much as I do love sitting around hanging out with my Traveling Partner, it’s not healthy to overindulge in that favorite activity. lol I consider stopping at a nursery on the way home for some bagged compost to add to the garden before I plant Spring seeds… No reason to let a drizzle stop me; it rains a lot around here, and it’s often the wise choice to go ahead and do things anyway.
… Do the things! (There is longevity and wellness in the effort, and far too much of who and what we are functions on a “use it or lose it” basis.) I remind myself how much fitness truly is packed into the many small day-to-day tasks upon which good quality of life is built. I remind myself to treat sitting around indulging in sedentary pleasures as I might treat indulging in sugary treats; very sparingly. Do more. Keep at it. Finish something and move on to doing something else. There are verbs involved, and sometimes the effort doesn’t seem “worth it”, but avoiding the effort is potentially a slow slide towards being unable to do when the time comes that I must. These are not new thoughts. I find value in repetition for reinforcing the need to do the verbs, is all.
The crisp damp morning aggravates my arthritis. I’m looking forward to a luxurious long hot shower and clean dry clothes. There’s laundry to do, and I have a plan to make stir fry for dinner tonight. It’s not always easy to push past physical pain to stay moving and active… But it’s worth the effort.
I sigh quietly. Finish my coffee, and get ready to begin again.
It’s March in the Pacific Northwest. I’m sipping coffee at a trailhead, waiting for a break in the… rain? Rain. At least, it’s raining here; a sort of steady drizzle, barely enough to discourage me from walking.
No tears this morning, I’ve got the rain.
When I woke and dressed for my walk, I hadn’t checked the weather. I kissed my Traveling Partner, and went to the door. I was surprised to see everything dusted with snow when I opened it. I stood there rather stupidly for a moment, stalled by my astonishment. I turned back to my partner and commented that perhaps I could not go… I must have sounded disappointed (I was), because he reminded me I could just take the truck; this small amount of snow would be nothing for the truck, at all. Of course. Totally made sense and I grabbed my other keychain and left, stopping to grab my hiking boots and cane from my car.
For a short distance, I enjoyed a basically very ordinary drive, aside from the dusting of white everywhere. Within minutes the snow started falling heavily, filling the sky with fat snowflakes, dense and visibility-limiting, but that didn’t last, and I reached the trailhead safely just as the snowfall stopped altogether, becoming this drizzly rain. It’s a rather ordinary rainy March morning.
I think about the garden and the work I am hoping to do this weekend. There are seeds to plant, weeds to pull, and I’d like to get a fresh layer of compost down on the vegetable bed. Weather permitting. I’m thinking about adding a rose with my dear friend in mind… perhaps missing her will be just a little less painful if I honor her memory in my garden… some lovely spot, where I can “sit with her awhile”, now and then? I think about beautiful roses and which of the many I had grown or shared over the years she liked the most or commented on most often… Or perhaps entirely new-to-my-garden roses that somehow capture my dear friend’s sense of style and creative nature? A splash of contrasting colors… A relaxed informal habit… I think about her fondly with roses, flowers, and fragrant herbs in mind. No tears, just love and fond memories. Progress. Even grief is a journey.
… My dear friend loved my roses, and even more she loved that I love them, myself. We spoke many times about the risk of slowing down and doing less, and the unfortunate “use it or lose it” nature of physical ability as we age. I keep walking, in spite of pain, in spite of “laziness”, in spite of fatigue – and it’s because I am so painfully aware that if I stop, and my fitness falls behind, it will become progressively more difficult over time to get it back. The physical effort in the garden is very much the same sort of thing. I sigh quietly and consider the garden and what I would like to do there this year. It saddens me for a moment that my dear friend, this year, won’t be around to share it with…
The rain stops. It’s daylight. The trail awaits. It’s time to begin again.
Evening Light 