Archives for posts with tag: walking my own path

I woke before dawn. As daylight began to shift the darkness to light, a foggy damp morning begins to reveal itself. Colder than yesterday, but not icy, probably a good one for an early walk, I think to myself, rather unenthusiastically, as it happens.

I consider the morning, and the moment.

I sip my coffee, dressed for walking. Yesterday it took a peculiarly long time to “talk myself into it”, and strangely, I was still halfheartedly trying to excuse myself from not going for a walk, although I feel better, and enjoy my day more, when I hit the trail for a couple of miles. That time alone with my thoughts, free of media inputs and other consciousnesses, is more than valued; it is part of what keeps me mentally and emotionally well. Dodging the effort is not a helpful thing. So, out I went. I returned home feeling sated, refreshed, and accomplished; 3 miles felt comfortable. The hill is no longer daunting, it’s just a hill.

This morning, I know I’ll go. Soon. I’ll finish this coffee, and lace up my boots, grab my cane, and go. I may drive up to the path along the Columbia river, this morning. Seems a lovely morning for it.

The morning continues to lighten, as the day develops, quietly.

There is so much disappointing chaos, corruption, and madness, in the world right now. I sometimes find it terrifying. I nearly always find it disheartening. I walk in the mornings, listening to bird song and breezes, and the sound of my footsteps, and let all of that go for at least a couple miles, and a handful of pleasant moments. The weekends feel shorter without the walks. Funny how this time spent with – and for – myself can seem to “stretch time”. I breath, exhale, and relax. I feel the hint of a smile on my face.

…Nice morning for walking…

My mind wanders pleasantly to the Spring ahead. Is it too soon to plan that first camping trip? Where would I go? The coast? The forest? Will the end of March (specifically, the Vernal Equinox) be too soon? (I don’t much like camping if the evenings/nights are cold; it makes my bones ache.) The winter has been strangely mild, perhaps the Spring will be unusually warm? (It may be unusually cold…) I smile at my own eagerness, sipping my coffee and delaying the start of my walk, to consider walking elsewhere, weeks from now. I am amused, without irritation, at the implied internal conflict. This morning, I am gentle with myself, uncritical, and unhurried. There is time for meditation. Time for coffee. Time for the outside temperature to warm up another degree or two. There is even time to recharge my wearable device, so handy for tracking my mileage.

I contentedly dilly-dally over my morning coffee, savoring the morning quiet. I appreciate it, and it is enough.

Mindfulness, perspective, & sufficiency: ingredients for a lovely morning.

I finish my coffee and lace my boots. It’s time to begin again.

I’m sipping my morning coffee thinking about pandemics. lol Weird start, but whatever; it’s starting point enough for the purpose. 😉

Most of us will not ever have the chance to address an outbreak of disease, or some scary new pandemic virus, by curing it. The odds are against that, for sure; few of us are those doctors, scientists, or researchers, even if we happen to be, generally speaking, doctors, scientists, or researchers. Just saying. It’s a bit like football; lots of people love the game, few of those make it to the NFL to play it. So… what chance does a “regular person” have to seriously fight disease? Well, how about all the small things any of us can do? Washing our hands thoroughly, and regularly. Always having well-washed hands to prepare food. Covering coughs and sneezes (no, for real though, and not just putting up a hand and creating a “cone of death” to blow germs past). Taking exceptional care of our own health, and the health of loved ones too young to do so themselves. Keeping a clean kitchen. A clean home environment. Avoiding endlessly re-using glasses, mugs, cups, and other drinking vessels, and eating utensils. Avoiding and controlling insect vectors. Avoiding the spread of zoonotics. (Yes, including not allowing your own dogs to lick your mouth, and washing your hands after emptying litter boxes or cleaning up shit or vomit. Seriously, people, what the hell?) All of these small steps matter for controlling the spread of disease. We may not, individually, have much shot at being the person who cures a deadly virus, but we can sure be part of controlling its spread, through our individual commitment to good health practices. It’s small, but it’s truly something we can each accomplish, and it’s a worthy endeavor.

So… having said that… You may not be able to cure “anger”, but there are practices you can practice that result in experiencing less of that, and in being less easily provoked to anger. 🙂

A lot of things, actually, work this way; there are small steps, small actions, simple practices, and a journey of incremental change over time, that any one of us can make. Meditation. Exercise. More nutritious healthy eating habits. Education. Emotional resilience. Small changes still result in change. Practices, being practiced, change who we are. Sure, it’s slow, and it’s small, and it can seem inconsequential, until that moment arrives when change, having been made, becomes obvious. 🙂

It’s actually a pretty pleasant thought, on a pretty pleasant Tuesday morning; I can make big (future) changes by way of small changes in my practices (right now). The choice to practice being the person I most want to be is mine to make, in every moment. If I miss my mark in this moment, there’s another moment yet to arrive – and I can give it another go, then. More practice? More skill. Over time, change is made. That seems almost effortless as words on page, and I don’t want to mislead anyone; there are verbs involved. Real effort. A commitment to change reflected in real choices, not just wishful thinking. I get it wrong, a lot. I suppose most people do. I keep at it; the things I most want to be, I keep making that attempt, knowing that eventually, I’ll get there. The things I most want not to be, I practice not doing/being those things; I practice what is antithetical to those things, on my path to becoming something quite other than that. Best to keep an eye on the general direction of such progress; it would not do to become something worse. 🙂

The morning unfolds with my thoughts. I check the time. I was up early, and have a moment for a second coffee at home, before the drive to the office, downtown. I feel rested. Relaxed. I feel an ease sense of readiness, for the day ahead. I like the feeling, so I sit with that awhile longer. 🙂 And after this moment of contentment? I’ll begin again. 🙂 It’s always a good time for more practice. 😉

It seems such a simple thing, after a while (meditation, I mean). Breathe, exhale, relax, present in this “now” moment, focused on my breath. I queue up a playlist that feels right for the moment (sometimes just sounds of rain, or the trickling of a stream, other times, as with this morning, a long mix of something “atmospheric”, today it is deep, heavy, luscious, lazy, with a relaxed easy beat). I let go of ego and worry and all the bits and pieces of “thinking” and just go with breathing. Meditation doesn’t require anything particularly fancy. It doesn’t cost money. It does take time, a little, and practice – not as much of that as one might expect, to get started down the path, and eventually, the practice is just a thing I do. 🙂

I woke early this morning. I didn’t have to be up, and it is, as yet, too dark outside to be certain whether the morning will be suited to walking. Yesterday wasn’t, and it was disappointing, although the day itself was quite lovely and well-spent.

Now here’s another new day, another new beginning. I start it with coffee, and with meditation. I read awhile. I sit down later (and here we are!) to wander through my thoughts and write a few words. The music plays on. I think of dear friends. I think of the day ahead. I think of the peculiar weather this year. I think of what to do about dinner later. I think about the pain in my back, which reminds me to correct my posture, to breathe, to exhale, to relax. I let go to the immediate hope that “it won’t be too bad today”, knowing that such wishes become expectations, which become a colossal let down later on. Pain is pain. I’ve still got a life to live, and I’ll do my best with that, as long as I am able. 🙂

The music plays on. My body rocks with the beat. My fingers on the keyboard find their pace in the rhythm. For a moment I feel this “now” as a single note in a greater song. Another breath, and it’s time to begin again.

I woke smiling when the alarm went off. I got up and was through most of morning routine before I realized I’d forgotten to put on my glasses. Most especially hilarious, because without them I really can’t see much at all. lol Nonetheless, I contentedly went through the motions, showering, choosing clothes, dressing, making coffee… then noticed, when I was watching the pour-over process, and the dense brown foam on top of the grounds seemed… sort of fuzzy. I thought then to ask myself that important “why?” question, and realized I just hadn’t done this one specific small task I generally do, immediately upon waking, every day, since…oh… like… “always” (since I was about 8? 9? My near-sightedness was identified fairly late).

…I’m still having an excellent morning. 🙂 Enough is, as the definition suggests, enough.

I sip my coffee. Check my email and unsubscribe from some things I no longer read, or care to have clogging up my inbox. Have a quick look at the news. Write… nothing of great consequence, or momentum, just a few words on a page.

What a lovely weekend it was. My smile deepens. I think about love. I think about home cooking. I think about contentment and joy. I think about movies, and sharing them with my Traveling Partner. I think about how it is definitely the sharing that matters most, it’s less about the movies. Another smile, another sip of coffee. Another Monday. 🙂

A handful of healthy practices may not save the world, however much they have transformed this individual human experience of life. I’m still fuzzy on the “save the world” plan details, anyway. I’m sometimes not at all sure we actually can… but… I’ll take contentment over misery, any Monday it’s offered to me. It’s enough. I’ll work on what’s in front of me that needs my attention, and then, when the time comes (and it always does), I’ll begin again. 🙂 So far that’s been working out nicely, in general. 😀

…I glance at the time, and finish my coffee.

It’s a quiet, relaxed, weekend. I’m enjoying it. There’s nothing much of consequence going on, and I’m okay with that. My walk yesterday tested me, and I hit some goals and unlocked a new level of achievements over the steep, hilly terrain. Today’s walk was level, paved, and at the end, rainy. Both were satisfying. Both provided new perspective, and things to ponder.

Consider what it means that it is necessary to put up a barrier to prevent people crossing this creek using this pipe. 

I spent both walks smiling and thinking. They were not exactly “effortless” experiences, but more relaxed and easy feeling than walking had gotten to be. That’s comforting knowledge; I can still choose my path, still walk it, still make gains on my more out-of-reach goals. It’s not too late for incremental change over time. 🙂

If it’s this “easy”, how is it we need so much practice? How is it we are so… human??

So… I seek to choose my practices with care, even trying to eat healthier, exercise more generally, and making each moment count towards practicing to the be the human being I most want to be… it definitely requires practice. I’m okay with that; I become what I practice. (You do, too.)

What are you practicing? Is it time to begin again?