It’s just now daybreak. I’ve got my boots on, and I’m at the trailhead for this morning’s walk. I try to put a couple miles on these boots every day. It’s not everything I need to do to get (or stay) fit, but it’s more than nothing.
I’m thinking about success and failure and the effort involved either way. I’m thinking about the difference between “saying” and “doing” – it’s an important difference. It’s pretty easy to find some measure of success and then, slowly, over time, begin to fail oneself ever so quietly while still rather loudly proclaiming the value of prior successes. It’s very human. The proof is in the results, though. Sometimes it’s necessary to begin again, because I have somehow stopped doing a verb. It’s not on my mind for any particular reason, aside from gratitude that I’ve kept at it with the walking and I’m still on my feet and able to.
Have you given up on some effective practice, maybe without really noticing, or in spite of continuing to talk about how well it works for you? Do you miss it? Will you begin again?
I breathe in the mild Spring morning air. It’s scented with flowers. The trees are in bloom all around. Storm clouds are bunched up overhead, looking a bit like a quilted comforter that has been improperly dried, and left lumpy. The idea of “lumpy clouds” makes me giggle out loud.
I’m in less pain than yesterday and in a much nicer mood so far this morning. I’ve got a bit of a headache and it’s the one I most closely associate with my neck pain, but my arthritis isn’t so bad this morning, and the bone graft site on my left hip isn’t aching ferociously the way it was yesterday. I am so grateful just to hurt less this morning. The walk can become real drudgery when I am in a lot of pain. I generally still do the walk, but it’s certainly less pleasant when my pain is unmanaged.
…soon…
The sky is light enough to walk the trail now. It’s a lovely mild morning for it. I stretch and yawn, grateful for the moment, the opportunity, and the ability. I grab my cane from the passenger seat of the car and begin again.
There’s no stopping the ticking of the clock. No halting the flow of time. (Not in this here and now, anyway, not as of 2024…) I sip my iced coffee, thinking about time and listening to the rain fall.
A steady rain falling doesn’t trouble flocks of seabirds.
I watched seals (sea lions?) playing in the channel as the rain fell. I listened to the raindrops on the water. I felt the soft pelting of rain on my face as I stood on the balcony drinking in the cool fresh sea air. The clock still measures the time that still flows, but I have no interest in attending to it, and it mostly goes unnoticed. I’m just being.
I enjoyed breakfast at a local breakfast spot. Their coffee was good, and breakfast was exceptionally well-prepared. My appetite was ready for it; I woke early and got a walk on the beach before the rain started. It was a lovely early morning moment (the walk, yes, and also the breakfast). There’s nothing about this that is extraordinary. “Woman on vacation dines at local breakfast hotspot!” is hardly an attention-grabbing headline. lol
Even the gulls are just chilling, today.
Returning to the hotel room after breakfast, I arrived along with the rain. I stood on the balcony awhile, listening and feeling and thinking my thoughts… then… I napped. lol My intention was to read, and to finish the book I brought with me. Instead, sleepiness overcame me and I dozed for an hour or so, although I did not need the sleep. It was luxurious, and I woke feeling that deep satisfaction and rested-ness that a good nap can provide. Now, I’m back to the iced coffee I picked up on my way out for my walk and never finished. No clear agenda, no plan, no goal for the day ahead besides relaxing, resting, and “refilling my tank” – apparently there are naps involved. 😀 So far my results are excellent – I am relaxed, and calm, and contented. I feel merry and deeply satisfied in life. I’m ready to get back to routines and requirements and structure and habit, and all the day-to-day details that need my attention.
I needed a break. I took a break. I have gotten what I need from this break. Feels very successful.
I’ve the day ahead of me, yet, and another night of sleeping by the seashore, listening to the wind and the waves. Another day to listen to the rain fall, and watch the gulls riding the air currents over the bay. Another day to relax and read and nap and walk on the beach.
I’m waiting. It’s quite early, before daybreak. I’m parked at a local trail near home. I’m waiting for enough daylight to walk. I’m waiting for the grocery store to open. I’m waiting for my Traveling Partner to wake and start his day. I’m waiting to begin my long weekend and short trip to the coast. It’s not a bad time for waiting. The world seems quiet and peaceful, and although that’s an illusion (the “peaceful” bit is very local), it’s a pleasant moment with which to begin the day.
My head aches ferociously. My neck, too, aches horribly. It’s more likely than not a byproduct of yesterday’s physical therapy, which isn’t unusual but is usually less intense. Progress? Hell, I don’t know.
Subjectively, I feel as if my range of motion is improving. The symptoms of occipital neuralgia seem reduced in frequency and intensity. Those are promising changes, but g’damn the pain persists, it’s just located differently. lol Learning to deal with pain emotionally has been as important as anything I’ve done to attempt to reduce it. I fully expect pain to continue to be a thing that is part of my day-to-day experience, and it’s no good letting it call the shots (anytime I have a choice to do otherwise). My results vary.
The ringing in my ears is… loud. I’m looking forward to being by the ocean. The sound of ocean waves and seaside breezes is one of the very few things that drowns out my tinnitus almost entirely. It’s a delightful break from the maddening din that no one else hears. For a couple days it’ll be rather as if there’s no tinnitus at all. This experience is one of the reasons I go to the coast when I need some time to myself, the chance to escape the noise of my tinnitus for a short time. Another is the feeling that being oceanside connects me more closely to my Granny and my recently departed dear friend, both of whom felt a strong connection to the sea.
It won’t be long now until mountain and forest places are warm enough for camping and hiking, too. I enjoy the forest most of all, myself, and that’s a lifelong love. I enjoy the seaside places. I enjoy the broad plains and vast expanses of high desert skies. I love the forest. My reluctance to camp in early Spring is to do with physical comfort, only. My arthritis makes sleeping on the ground in chilly weather uncomfortable, and the more frequent Spring rains make hiking muddy and more treacherous, so I just don’t. Choices.
…I sit quietly for some moments, feeling grateful to have the luxury and privilege of choices…
Daybreak comes. The morning sky stays pretty dark, and streaks of blue hint at daylight to come, through stormy clouds. It’s not raining though, and it looks like a good morning for a walk. I remind myself to check my paint box for blues and grays and colors I might use for stormy skies…
Soon there will be enough light to walk the trail. I grab my boots to make the change from sneakers, and get ready to head down the trail. It’s already time to begin again.
The blues and grays of daybreak are smeared messily across the sky, clouds gathered low on the horizon. There is a bus idling at the bus stop on the highway, near the parking lot, where I am sitting waiting for the sunrise. No one gets on or off at this relatively remote stop at this very early hour. Eventually the bus pulls away, leaving behind only the quiet of morning.
I finally made waffles in the new waffle iron yesterday. They were… good? Not great. A new waffle iron means learning how to make waffles all over again. It’s definitely a better waffle iron and I plan to make waffles again this morning, to take advantage of what I learned yesterday and “get the process down”. Yummy yummy learning. lol
Yesterday was a beautiful Spring day. I got into the garden, weeded a flower bed, planted four new roses, and tidied up the lawn in preparation for it to be mowed later in the day (picking up sticks, cleaning up any cat poop, and digging up a dandelion or two before they could go to seed).
Both processes serve well as living metaphors and useful practices. Metaphors because they stand so well as analogies for other experiences in life, and practices because the things I learn from each of these experiences is incredibly useful in more than the obvious ways – but also require persistence and repetition to extract all that can be learned.
I sit with my thoughts about waffles and gardening for awhile, watching daybreak becoming a new day. The great vast flock of Canada geese on the marsh begin to take flight, rising up from the delicate mist that is cringing to the marsh and meadow. They pass noisily overhead. The sky is bluer now, and the clouds on the horizon seem much darker. Still waiting for the park gate to open, I step out of the car, stretching and breathing the chilly fresh morning air deeply before changing from sneakers to hiking boots. It won’t be long now, and it looks like I’ll have the trail to myself this morning. The thought delights me.
…The park gate opens with a quiet clang. I move the car and hit the trail…
Wherever I am standing is a good place to begin.
I return to the car feeling the morning chill. Hands cold in spite of mostly being in my pockets, I chuckle to myself; I’ve got gloves in the car and could have worn them. i didn’t. Cold fingers struggle with boot laces. It’s chillier this morning than most recent mornings have been. I start the car and warm up a bit. I take time to finish this bit of writing. I’m eager to head home and make waffles, but there’s no rush. I haven’t yet heard from my Traveling Partner, and he’s likely still sleeping. These quiet early morning moments I so thoroughly enjoy are also a way of giving my partner a chance to get more rest without me clattering about the house clumsily, so there’s definitely no rush, and I consider the short walk across the parking lot to the marsh viewpoint, a favorite spot for getting pictures of nesting birds, and playful nutria. I’ve still got the park all to myself, too…
I think about the new roses in my garden. One new rose yet to arrive, a celebration of love and a reminder of the deep connection I share with my Traveling Partner; “Bolero“. I am excited to add this one to the garden. It’s entirely new to me, and celebrates a strange drive home from camping last year; I had a piece of music stuck in my head that later turned out to be music my partner was actually listening to, unbeknownst to me, in that very moment. I am still a bit astonished by the depth of connection the experience represents, and this is why Bolero has ended up in the garden.
…I’m so excited to see all the roses in bloom…
Love and memories. Practices and metaphors. It’s a good morning to be present and to enjoy this quiet moment of reflection. Soon it’ll be time to begin again, with waffles and with love. It’s a good day for beginnings.
I opened my news feed by mistake, and the headlines… damn. This may not be “about you” or useful at all… it’s just on my mind.
Damn, People. What’s with the anger all the g’damned time?
What’s with behaving as if your anger, all by itself, justifies your shitty behavior, your tantrums, your unreasonable demands and expectations, and your very peculiar air of entitlement that the whole world (or at least some specific fraction of it) make changes to soothe you? I’m just saying… there’s a whole lot of strange bullshit and bad behavior associated with unmanaged anger. It’s… ugly. Domestic violence? Ugly. Child abuse? Ugly. Exes killing exes? Ugly. People screaming at other people who are just doing… people things? Ugly. Late flight tantrums? Ugly. Long line tantrums? Ugly. Parking disputes? Ugly. Bad neighbor bullshit? Ugly. Just fucking stop it – how about that? How about accepting that you’re angry about something, giving yourself a minute to reflect before you “deal with it” (at least as far as discussing it with some other hapless human), and (maybe breathe) then take a wise, measured, well-considered approach to resolving whatever fly is in your ointment today? I mean, for real? Stand down, you hostile belligerent badly behaved seething entitled rage-monkey – no one has time for your bullshit, and um, also? No one deserves to die over it. Anger is just an emotion. Check yourself.
Just saying. Why the fuck are you leading with your anger, or letting your anger call your shots in life? You’re a human being (I mean, most likely, if you’re reading this, you’re a human being). One of the big “features” of being human is the ability to reflect on our experience and manage our emotions. So… maybe do some of that. Like… all the time, please. It’s a practice. We become what we practice. If you practice being an angry reactive shithead, guess what you become? Something to think about. Anger management takes practice. Developing resilience takes practice. Becoming calm and reasonable takes practice. Having perspective takes practice. Making good use of wise perspective once developed takes more practice. Thinking before you speak takes practice.
…No, I’m not saying it’s “easy”, and yes, it does take work. “Practice” is a verb. You’re probably frustrated with this too, finding yourself feeling regretful after saying or doing some terrible thing to (or at) someone you care about. You can change.
I sigh out loud over my coffee. I’m generally in an exceedingly bad mood when I first wake up in the morning. It’s pretty reliably true that I do not want to talk to people before I’m “all the way awake”, which is generally after the first cup of coffee is gone, and the second one started. (This isn’t unique to me, there are a lot of folks who are less than approachable first thing in the morning, my Traveling Partner included.) I don’t always have the luxury of avoiding all human contact in the morning, though, particularly on work days, so I’ve had to learn to manage my temper, my words, my reactions to other people, how I hear things being said to me, and how I respond to both strangers and those close to me, until I have my shit together for the day. It’s been ages since I acted in anger first thing in the morning, or reacted unpleasantly to having to interact with people before I feel ready for all that – I’m proud of that progress, because the basic truth that I’m seriously all thorns and sharp edges first thing in the morning hasn’t changed at all. How I behave has changed a lot. Practice.
Change is within reach. Who do you want to be? What do you need to practice to be that person? Get started making that change – one small detail at a time is enough to get going, and then… just keep practicing. Fail? You will. You totally will. (I know I do.) Begin again. Do your best. Practice more. Practice something new or a bit different. Keep at it. Fail again? Yeah, that’s a thing – incremental change over time takes… time. Keep at it. We become what we practice. Practice being the person you most want to be. Every day. Yes, and after every failure. Reflect on that reflection looking back from your mirror – what does that person do and say at their best, in one situation or another? What could you have done differently to get a better result? Practice that.
But wait… what if you’re “legitimately provoked”, you may ask? You’re not going to like my thinking on this one, perhaps, but… that’s precisely when and why it matters to practice. Provocation is not an excuse for bad behavior in any real way. Just sort of makes it seem explainable in some understandable way that one might behave badly, but it doesn’t make it okay. It doesn’t justify bad acts. It doesn’t justify killing someone. It doesn’t justify saying terrible things. Nothing really does – because we absolutely have it within our power to do better than that, being what we are. Can’t manage to do better on your own? Get help. Do better.
(If that paragraph caused you to go down some extreme-scenario rabbit hole about self-defense or something, just stop it. Take a minute to hear me and think about what I’m actually saying, please.)
I’m sipping my coffee on a quiet Thursday morning. There’s nothing much going on, but I’m in pain and I am in a seriously bad mood – but I’m also enjoying the morning in spite of my emotional weather (because that will pass, and I have choices). I’m enjoying being able to choose to be pleasant and understanding, in spite of feeling cranky and out of sorts. I’m enjoying this good cup of coffee. I’m enjoying the outcome of taking steps to manage my temper this morning; I get to be part of a peaceful household characterized by pleasant conversation and love. Worth the effort.
I woke up ahead of my Traveling Partner. His son was already up. I took time to water the lawn and front garden before the sun heats up the day. When my partner woke, I took my coffee into the studio to “give him time to wake up”. This works for me; I get time to write, he has time to make his coffee and start his day with quiet thoughts. No conflict (real or imagined). No stress. Just a chill morning. He’ll let me know in some sweet way that he’s ready for the day by telling me he misses me, or inviting me to join him watching some short video that made him laugh, or coming in to see what I’m up to. When he does? We begin again. 😀
Practice being the person you most want to be. (Painting by an unknown artist seen hanging in a local restaurant.)
Evening Light 