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Groggy With a Chance of Rain

March 21, 2024 //
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Wild night. Plentiful, surreal, and rather lively dreams that seemed more like “real life” than dreams, with enough really strange stuff mixed in to be… remarkable. I slept deeply, but restlessly, and woke with my silent alarm just as the lights came on. Groggy. Feeling rather as if I were “running late”, simply because I’ve been waking so damned early for the past couple… days? …Weeks? I got through my morning routine, surprised to discover my Traveling Partner already up as I stepped into the living room, as I left. We exchanged greetings, and a sweet kiss good-bye.

…I feel rather as if I really “woke up” somewhere along the commute, more than half-way to the office…

I’m sipping my coffee, now, preparing my work for the day ahead. I almost forgot to take a few minutes for me, just to get my head right, and meditate, and take care of this fragile vessel. I put things on pause, and sit with my coffee, watching the storm clouds that fill the sky obscuring the sunrise, as daybreak becomes… morning. There’ll be no view of a sunrise today. lol I’m okay with that; it’s enough to enjoy a new day. Some mornings seem to remind me that “the clock is always ticking”. This is one of those. I breathe, exhale, relax, and give myself over to a moment of gratitude and presence. It’s enough to be here. Enough to be awake and aware. Enough to experience the small joys in a comfortable place to work, and a good cup of coffee. Enough to know that my loving partner and pleasant home are waiting for me on the other side of this work day.

Bits of blue sky peak out between fluffy gray clouds. I sip my coffee. It’s a very quiet morning, and the loudest thing I hear is my own tinnitus. There are few cars on the streets below. Most of the residential windows are still dark. There are no trash trucks doing collections, presently. No construction has started. Quiet. I enjoy these quiet moments. I sit with my thoughts awhile. The weekend is only one more work day away… I’m eager to be back in the garden, though the forecast is for rain. I’m unconvinced – on Sunday, the weather forecast indicated it would rain all week, and it most certainly has not rained, beyond a few scattered sprinkles, yesterday evening. lol So… maybe I will be in the garden? I love my garden as a metaphor for life (and for personal growth). I plant seeds, I nurture them as they sprout, I watch them grow and tend them with care… the more care I give, the more effort I put into it, the better my results. There’s something so simple (and so profound) to be learned from that… I keep practicing.

Yesterday evening, although I was tired, I walked through the garden, and looked for new seedlings. I’ve planted carrots and peas and radishes and salad greens (from seeds), and although that was done quite recently, the radishes at least should be coming up… “soon”. I spotted first one sprout, then another, then as my eyes calibrated to their shapes, I saw the entire row, and the chaos where El Gato had dug a whole (that I filled back in) – scattering the unsprouted seeds such that those seedlings are sprouting just every-damned-where. I’m okay with that bit of chaos. Nothing to do about it but enjoy it, really (at least, that’s my approach to such things). Spring is truly here. 😀

What have you planted in your metaphorical garden? How are you nurturing those seedlings? What do you hope to harvest? Can those seedlings even become that thing at all? Things to think about as you plan and dream… Soon it’ll be time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Roses, Spring

Here and There

March 20, 2024 //
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I’m sipping my coffee and letting the day begin gently. No pressure, just routine this-n-that. I’m already eager to be back in the garden, and my thoughts are filled with new roses, which have begun to arrive. I’m also giving thought to improving my selection of kitchen herbs for variety (how do I not have French tarragon planted?!). I’ve got an ample supply of seeds for the veggies I most commonly cook with (and have had success growing) and an assortment of “things to try”. “Tis the season…” 😀

Yesterday was the Vernal Equinox. Spring is officially here, and the weather has been delightful. So far, El Gato has stayed out of my veggie bed since I added some veggie starts, and moved the “spike mats” around for better coverage between the tender new plants. Once I am seeing seedlings in sufficient quantity to require thinning, I generally have to take up the mats, otherwise crops like carrots are damned difficult to harvest. lol It’s an effective approach, though, and generally I’ve only got the one cat vexing me (but he does live right next door and clearly considers my yard part of his territory).

I sip my coffee and “spend time in the garden”, in my head. My thoughts are definitely all about the roses, the Spring, and the next opportunity to be in the garden. 😀

I sit thinking about herbs for awhile… I’m missing a couple that I like to use (tarragon, chives, and rosemary), and there are others that are a bit tender in my area, and need to be treated as annuals (like basil and lemon grass). There are still others that I’m reluctant to grow at all, because they quickly become an invasive pest (mint, and dill). I enjoy the planning almost as much as the actual gardening, and happily while away a few minutes simply contemplating what to do, when to do it, and how it will be done. 😀

I breathe, exhale, and relax. So little tension this morning – it’s a lovely chill moment on which to begin a new day. I look out the window into the night sky; it’s still quite dark and not yet daybreak, although some hint of color will likely develop any time now. I smile and sip my coffee and consider this lovely uncomplicated moment. Soon enough, it will be time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Moments, Perspective, Practices, Spring

Waffles & Roses

March 18, 2024 //
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I’m sipping my coffee and thinking about the weekend that has only just ended. The sunrise is just getting started, and I see it beyond the city skyline, as a pale peach glow that reaches a deep orange as it nears the distant horizon, only visible reflected back in building windows. The crows are taking flight, and I see and hear them as they pass by the big window behind my monitor. It’s a Monday.

…Funny, I remember Mondays being quite different than this, not so long ago…

…Years, actually, it’s been years since Mondays were reliably unpleasant for me…

I’m feeling contented and merry, well-loved, appreciated, and cared-for. The weekend was rich with self-care and the charming companionship of my Traveling Partner, whose sometimes wildly inappropriate often subtle sense-of-humor reliably amuses me. (Fuck, I love that guy!) We go together like waffles and maple syrup on lazy Sunday. 😀

…I actually did make waffles this weekend. They were… of varying quality. At least one of them was almost the best waffle I’ve ever made… my waffles are pretty hit-or-miss, honestly. There’s a subtlety to really great waffles. I have a fantastic recipe, but I have a cheap-ass very average quality electric waffle iron that is pretty fiddly and imprecise for both temperature and timing (and also hard to clean). Makes it rather more difficult to get a great result than necessary for something as simple as waffles. This particular batch of waffles resulted in a decent breakfast together, but ended with both of us finding reasons that the results were less than satisfying. “Not done enough”, “over-done”, “not quite enough batter” – all the basic ways a waffle can fail, I got that outcome. LOL I make a batch small enough for two people, so the end result was that we each got 1 adequately-edible-but-not-perfect waffle, in spite of a great recipe. Well, shit. Before I even finished my waffle, my Traveling Partner had shopped around for a better waffle iron, and we’ll have it before the next weekend. 😀 Sometimes self-care is about careful consideration of the outcome we get, what we’d like for ourselves instead, and taking actual steps to make that happen… even when we’re just talking about waffles! I’m excited about the new waffle iron, and I’m eager to make waffles again, instead of facing the idea with some resistance certain that the results will be… unpredictable.

The weekend was pleasant, with mild spring weather, and I spent time in the garden planting pea seedlings and salad greens; the young plants give me a head start and give the recently planted seeds some time to get going. They also seem to discourage El Gato from using my veggie bed as a litterbox, which is a bonus. It felt good to have my hands in the soil. I went around to each of the roses and did a little more pruning, cutting back any dead canes, and pruning off canes that were tending to grow in a crowded fashion, or obstructing a walkway – pruning for aesthetics, mostly, and just enjoying the sunshine. It’s a garden. There’s always more to do, and I finally had the weather for it.

Getting the garden started; it’s Spring!

The sky is now a lovely baby blue, with a hint of bold yellow along the horizon, and streaked with bright pink “chem trails” and whisps of clouds. Looks like another pleasant Spring day, and I’m so happy to see it! I sip my coffee and think my thoughts, preparing for the day, and watching the sun rise. I enjoy seeing the sun rise.

I think I recall that the rain will return this week, and through next weekend… that won’t stop me from making waffles, or taking care of myself and my Traveling Partner, but it will probably keep me out of the garden, mostly. I’m glad I got so much done this past weekend! My mind wanders to more/other things I’d like to do, or plan to do, or expect to have to do… I keep a list, so as not to lose track of the important details. My results still vary, but it’s been a long time since I learned to stop beating myself up over the very human limitations in energy and time that can limit what I get done in a day. It doesn’t help to treat myself like shit over running out of energy, or forgetting something I had sworn I’d make time for. It’s far more productive (and kinder to myself) to take note, acknowledge how very human I am, and just move the fuck on to the next opportunity. I try my damnedest not to be one of the people standing in line to grief me over something stupid. lol There are plenty of other people willing to fill that role, any time.

I smile to myself, feeling pretty contented and merry, and very much “recharged” after a great weekend. It’s a good start to a new week, and now it’s time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Roses, Spring, The Art of Being, weight loss secrets

Hot Coffee, Fresh Headache

March 13, 2024 //
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My head aches ferociously this morning, some annoying combination headache that grips the base of my skull and holds on, dull and distracting. My tinnitus is loud, and also very annoying. Ah, but this cup of coffee is hot, and properly made, and soothes the part of my brain that very much wishes I were not awake right now at all. A new day begins, and so far… it’s mostly annoying. lol Yes, I’m also mostly laughing it off – because honestly what the hell else can I do with it that might get me somewhere better than this situation right here, right now? I’m just saying, I could choose to be angry about it and mired in my aggravation, but I’m doing my best to not do that.

I was awakened too early; my Traveling Partner was having trouble sleeping because he was congested and having trouble breathing easily, which is most definitely a crappy experience to be having. I woke from a deep sound sleep, cross and alarmed, and concerned that I’d likely not be easily able to get back to sleep (and might also be at risk of escalating the situation into some sort of argument) because of where my head was at when I woke. I chose to get up, dress, and head into the city (so so early) – I knew I could nap on the couch in the lounge for a couple hours before my day typically begins (there wouldn’t be anyone there to be disturbed or inconvenienced). The drive into the city was pleasant, uneventful, and calm; there was no traffic, and I only saw a couple cars passing in the other direction on the entire drive. Once I arrived, I had no difficulty getting more or less comfortable (for most values of “comfortable”) on the couch, and I managed to nap for a couple hours, although the city version of “quiet” is rather noisy for my liking.

I sip my coffee and recognize that some portion of my headache may be the result of the less-than-ideal pillow I was resting my head on, or the position I was in, generally. Still… I did rest, and it is a new day…anyway, I think I had this headache when I woke up earlier. Today I have my appointment with my massage therapist, and that will likely give me considerable relief from this headache.

…Pretty good cup of coffee, too…

Fairly typical of cities, this one seems “flooded with light”, even during the wee empty hours of the night. When I woke, this space seemed “brightly lit”, although there were no lights on. It was just the ambient light of the city itself, and my eyes had adjusted while I dozed. I woke somewhat disoriented (so I know I definitely slept, possibly fairly deeply), confused by the illuminated surroundings, which clashed with my expectation of darkness. Finding my way to the coffee machine in the “darkness” was easy, and the hot cup of coffee was so welcome.

…So here it is a new day…

I sigh and stretch, and rub my aching neck, and sip my coffee. I wonder if my Traveling Partner finally got back to sleep, himself? I hope he did. Being short on sleep sucks.

My mind wanders. I drink my coffee. The pre-dawn sky is still quite dark, and daybreak is still minutes away, and it’ll be more than half an hour after that before the sun rise. For now, I can’t even see whether the sky is cloudy – those details are still obscured by the city lights. Still, it’s interesting enough to simply watch the cars go by on the streets below, and listen to the crows announcing their plans for the morning, while I drink this coffee.

Day breaks, and the crows take flight as a noisy group. Soon enough it’ll be time for coffee #2… and time to begin again.

…Fucking hell, this headache, though…

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Sleepless Nights, Spring, The Art of Being

Love & Memory

March 12, 2024 //
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I had a restless night of interrupted sleep. No bad dreams, just periodically waking up for no obvious reason, before settling into sleep once again. It wasn’t unpleasant, but the night seemed unreasonably long and I got up well ahead of my usual time, dressed, and left for work early. The commute was effortless, because at that hour there was no traffic on the road. Now, I’m sitting at my desk, looking out at the dark pre-dawn cityscape, sipping my coffee. It’s a Tuesday, and my calendar is pretty full, but all that begins quite a bit later, and I have some time to sit with my thoughts.

A cherished handmade gift from a dear friend.

Last night as I was tidying up a quiet room that is mostly decorated with books, I found this small handmade paper journal sort of just set aside, waiting for some moment. It was a gift from my recently deceased dear friend, celebrating my 60th birthday. It was intended to accompany me on a camping trip with my Traveling Partner, and as I recall now, I elected to keep it safe from harm by not taking it out into the wilds where dirt, wind, or rain might wreck it, knowing I’d find some similarly meaningful use for it some other time and place.

It even came with instructions. 😀

I sat for a moment with this cherished gift in my hands, gently unfolding the letter that is still tucked into a pocket inside the cover. I reread the letter, my heart filled with love and fond memories, a soft sad smile on my face. I miss my friend, but how delightful to have this memento of our friendship to remember her by!

Each page decorated by hand, each page unique, bringing to mind the illuminated manuscripts of another age.

I turn the pages, one by one, each one different, each one ready for some thought, or poem, or random handful of words to be written there. I felt so inspired, just to hold it in my hands! I examined each page, reconnecting with so many memories of the friendship we had shared. I delighted in the recollection of her enthusiasm for small handmade gifts, and how extraordinary and special each such gift to me remains to this day. I smiled thinking about her best friend bringing a similar cherished gift to the hospital while I was there visiting, to share that precious memory. What a beautiful human being my dear friend was! She was – is – so well loved by those who knew her. Missed.

“Friendship is a gift that lasts.” – It is indeed.

I turn to a page with a pocket from which a string dangles, and a note attached to the pocket reads “Pull the white string up”, and so I do – and as if speaking to me from “the beyond”, a tag appears that reads “friendship is a gift that lasts”. My eyes fill with tears that don’t fall, and the smile on my face becomes a bit brittle, a little fragile, with this reminder that I was also dear to my dear friend. I feel loved. I feel grateful to have shared this amazing friendship. My smile deepens as I sit with my memories for a moment. I’m okay. Grief is a process, and there is no escaping it; “the way out is through”. Fucking hell, what a first rate friend she truly was.

The last page. A bookmark. A reminder.

I turn page after page of this small handmade journal, and imagine writing in it, at long last. What would I write in such a precious space? What words fit in this slim fragile volume? I imagine for a moment that whatever I wrote here might be something she could read, from wherever her spirit rests. Fanciful, but comforting. The bookmark tucked into the pocket on the last page says only, in large letters, “Roses”. I smile and think about the roses I recently purchased to add to the garden with her – and the memories of our friendship – in mind. I allow myself the fancy of imagining she somehow knew. (Certainly, she knew I love roses.)

What a beautiful little moment! It lingers with me now, and I woke this morning to see the wee journal resting on a cushion, next to my neatly folded clothes, waiting for the new day. Where will this journey take me? What is ahead on this path? I sip my coffee and think happy thoughts of trails to hike, and roses to plant, and long summer days in the garden. I think about the wee journal, and my dear friend, and what words might fill these pages.

My mind wanders to other cherished friendships. I could be a better friend; I make a commitment to reach out to friends I haven’t spoken to recently. I think fondly of my Traveling Partner – our deeply loving relationship is also built on a firm foundation of a cherished friendship. We were friends long before we were ever lovers. I’m grateful for that friendship, it has carried us through some tough times with considerable affection and grace. Whatever else goes on in life, friends are such a huge part of life being worth living in the first place. I sip my coffee and think about how fortunate I am to have the rich friendships I do. The value isn’t in numbers of friends, either, it’s in the quality of enduring friendships, and the love and laughter they bring to this very human experience, that can sometimes feel so lonely otherwise.

I look up as I finish my coffee. The morning sky is hues of blue and shades of gray where clouds crowd the horizon. Daybreak has passed. Sunrise is moments away, although I doubt it will be anything exceptional to see, this morning. Regardless, here it is a new day – and already time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, art and the artist, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, grief, Healthy Living, inspiration, loneliness, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, Roses, Sleepless Nights, Spring, The Art of Being, The Big 5
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