go for a bike ride, sit in a park, and do nothing.
Today was my one day off in the middle of the week, the product of only having a 30 hour work week at the moment. I wish I could go to work on Tuesdays. I love where I work, and I love the people I work with. Right now though, its apparently not quite in the budget. That's just for now, though. My manager recently gave me further clarification that a full time position will be in the cards for me in the near future, pending budget approval in March for a FY27 start date (which puts me at full time around July).
Therefore, I'm trying to relish these midweek breaks, and try not to spend an abundance of money. These days, I pretty much just pay my bills, and buy groceries, and I'm relatively content with that. Today, I made some coffee in the morning, around 9, in the mokka pot. I love using that to make coffee because it fills the house with the aromatics of freshly brewed coffee, more so than my usual pour overs. I spent the morning knitting, making significant progress on the sleeve of the light grey sweater I've been working on. I finally locked in on the raglan increases I kept messing up, and now feel confident that I could actually, at last, finish this thing by the end of the week, or maybe next. At around 11:30 I made another cup of coffee, and put it in my Lamplighter travel mug. It was another unseasonably warm January day, and I decided it would be best to get outside and sit in the sun before noon. I packed a light bag, slung it over my shoulder, and carried my bike down the stairs and rode off to my favorite park.
Even riding, it was very pleasant and I never felt chilled. I got to the park, said hi to a dog in a sweater, and found a bench in the sun to sit on. For the next hour, I simply sat and absorbed the sun, looked out at the trees around me, still bare, and the houses around the park. I saw many people ride by on bikes, and was reminded of how glad I am to be here.
I pulled out a book and read for a little while. I recently started Patti Smith's new memoir, Bread of Angels. Its a wonderful reflection on the curiosities of childhood, and reminds us the importance of caring for that curious mindset into adulthood.
We are born with a mind open to everything, no fear, no known boundaries, but with each new rule, restriction the mind divides. We learn to live as in the age of reason, in relation to the world, to social order, balancing a compliance between imagination and the respirable kingdom. - Patti Smith, Bread of Angels, p. 81-82
I never thought that I would become less curious with age, and eventually close myself off to the endless possibilities of the universe. I sat there in the park, and was glad I had ventured out, and was staring up at the blue sky, sipping a coffee slowly, and feeling a little more curious and little less anxious.
On the way back, I rode down the gravel and cobble alleys, winding my way through these small arteries of the city is more enjoyable than being on the busy, car filled streets, and makes me yearn for a time when there were less cars. I don't even know if there was such a time, rather maybe a time when there were no cars, and a time of cars. When I was within a block of my apartment, I saw an almost new desk sitting on the curb. It was a pretty standard black and white desk, one that came flat packed like most furniture, and was quite unremarkable. It struck my eye though, really just because it was a little bit bigger than my current one, but just enough that it would make a difference. I looked it over, inspected it for weird bugs and water damage, and despite the veneer peeling off ever so slightly at the front, it looked fine. I went inside, dropped off my bag and my bike, and went back to carry it through the alley and up the stairs in the back. After cleaning it up, I'm glad I took it. My old desk now is to the side of the door, and is more of a side table now (much needed).
I love making a home with furniture I find on the side of the road. It feels good to know that now my space feels a little more comfortable, and there's one less piece of future-trash on the side of the road. I've always been like this, and remember doing the same thing with all of past apartments. The one difference in the past few years, though, is that there's nothing truly good out there anymore. I mostly see furniture and household things clearly procured from Amazon on the curb these days, and miss the days when you could easily find a nice solid wood table out in the wild, and wish I'd held onto them over the years. At the same time, I've had this good (I think) habit of returning these things to the street once I am finished with them, or when I'm moving, and really love watching someone else come by and pick them up after me. Its nice to be a part of that cycle of shared use.
After I set up my new-to-me desk, I made some avocado toast for lunch, and sat out on the fire escape to eat in the sun. After I was finished, I once again took a moment of nothing. No phone, no music, just observation, and well, I suppose quasi-meditation. I didn't actively meditate, but in hindsight, it felt like it.
The last photo is not from today, but is one that I wanted to include post-script, of my friends' bikes and I. Our friend R- took it on 35mm film and showed us a few days ago.