November is here

Boulevard Park walk yesterday (picture by Steve)

I love these leaves, big leaf maple that lined the trail as Steve and I walked from the coffee shop to the Taylor Dock before turning around and heading back. He got both the flu and Covid shots on Friday and wasn't feeling a hundred percent. I also wasn't anxious to be outdoors in the wind and rain, as we kept having frequent squalls of rain and bouts of wind, but then it would calm down again. We didn't go far, but it made me feel so much better just to get in a little exercise. These pretty leaves won't look so nice once the rain pounds us, as it's forecast to do.

John is back at the coffee shop, too, but he's still recovering from the aftermath of Covid and the treatment he was given. He'll pick me up this morning, however, and we will make our way to Fairhaven for breakfast. It's amazingly warm right now, but that is also expected to change soon. November is famous around here for extremes in weather. When you see that the forecast says to expect "rain with partly sunny skies" you know you need to be ready for anything.

When I got my latest massage on Friday, my therapist scheduled the next session for one month from now, and it turns out that will be on my birthday! How did that happen, where did this past year go? It makes me realize that the older I get, the faster the days, months, and seasons seem to rush by. And there are so many fewer ahead of me than behind. But I cannot complain: I've lived a full and event-filled life, with lots of thrills and chills, with good times and bad times, as every one of us who gets to become an octogenarian can attest to. 

I woke this morning at the usual time, according to my sleep cycle, but the clock says I got up an hour earlier. During the night, the time changed on all our clocks (except for the microwave); our devices and electronics didn't even seem to notice. It will take me a week to get adjusted to the time change, but it gives me an extra hour to write this post, just for today. For whatever reason, I slept well and feel quite serene and happy with life for the moment. The news of the day hasn't been dealt with yet, and I might just keep it that way for awhile. Nothing is making me anxious to find out and spoil my mood. The only thing that changes when I read the news is me.

People who are kind and good hearted all feel the same right now, I suspect: wishing there was something that can be could to make things better. My technique is simple and effective, which is to spend some time in following my breath and then making a gratitude list. Who would have thought that paying attention to something we do unconsciously most of the time could be helpful? But it is. We breathe from the moment we are born until we take our last breath when we die. Most of the time we are completely unaware of that essential element in life, and paying attention to it is rather calming. It also makes me aware of those times when I have difficulty concentrating, but bringing my mind back to my breath without judgment is also a gentle way to train my "monkey mind," the ever-present mental processes, into serenity.

Your living is determined not so much by what life brings to you as by the attitude you bring to life; not so much by what happens to you as by the way your mind looks at what happens. —Khalil Gibran

And then there is gratitude, such a wonderful addition to anybody's life. I am grateful for the ability to think, to contemplate, to move through my days with the ability to grow. Even as an elder, the expansion of one's horizons never really stops, unless you choose to allow it. All around every one of us are myriad possibilities for growth. Today I'm going to see if I can infect others with the benign virus of love. Why not? It seems like just the thing for a windy, rainy November day.

Well, will you look at that? The hour that I gained last night has just been spent in happy contemplation of the day ahead. It's now time to think about getting out of bed and starting my usual activities. My dear partner still sleeps next to me, and I can hear the wind moving through the trees outside my window. John will be here soon, and we will climb inside his chariot and transport ourselves to Fairhaven for breakfast. I do hope you will have a truly wonderful week ahead, with plenty of company in whatever form suits you best. Two-legged, four-legged, winged, wild or domestic, I wish you and your world all good things until we meet again. Be well, dear friends.