Archives for the month of: May, 2023

I’m counting the days until my birthday, like a kid. Just 24 days to go, and I’ll be… 60. Wow. I’m still pretty astonished by two things about this:

  1. I’m turning 60 (at all).
  2. 60 doesn’t “feel old” from the inside.

I sip what’s left of my iced coffee. I got a 20 ounce coffee this morning. Extra shots. I’m still pretty groggy in spite of that, and in spite of the sunshine streaming in through the windows reminding me that summer is very nearly here. I’d love to have slept longer. I woke up, and I’m “awake” for most values of being awake – I’m just struggling to fire up some sort of lively sense of engagement with the day (and the work ahead of me). I suspected that might be the case, and I sort of abstractly ascribe it to the combination of seasonal allergy symptoms and general fatigue from poor quality sleep. I don’t know how accurate those assumptions are, but I’m satisfied that the truths revealed are at least feasibly accurate. Mostly. Probably? I’m for sure still feeling stupid and fuzzy-headed, and lacking the clarity of mind that I want to expect (and most likely should not wait around for, based on how I am feeling right now). I’m stuck betwixt having awakened and also feeling like I never completed that process fully. lol

Twice I’ve had interesting (to me) ideas to write about. Twice those have slipped away leaving behind only a recollection of having been interrupted in the middle of a thought. lol

…There’s damn little coffee left in this cup, and the local coffee shops here in town won’t open for another 10 minutes. I’ve already had 20 ounces of coffee as it is. Enough for the whole day (served in a single cup – how convenient)! I don’t really need more.

Roses blooming in the garden.

I let my mind wander to the weekend… beautiful weather in the forecast. What will I do with the time? Garden? That sounds likely. Maybe go for a drive with my Traveling Partner? Shop? Tidy up my studio? (It sure needs some attention.) Make a couple batches of shower steamers? Get some romantic sexy fun time going with my partner? Read a book? Sit around watching my partner play a video game? Write letters to old friends? Some of all of these things?

A jay checking on my gardening.

Here it is a new day… a blank page… choices to choose and opportunities to accept or to disregard… and it’s time to begin (again).

Here we are. Another opportunity to live life with intention. Sounds pretty cool, a little trendy. Modern buzzwords amuse me. I sip my (iced) coffee, and make room for a moment of gratitude; I didn’t sleep well, and my Traveling Partner also missed out on good sleep last night – we still shared a few pleasant minutes over morning coffee together. That’s precious time – it’s not a given that we’ll always be here together. Change is. Misfortunes and tragedies do occur. Life does throw some curveballs. We face our circumstances, and make our choices – our results are going to vary. Maybe a lot. Maybe not in good ways.

…How well we deal with misfortune, adversity, and change, are a large part of our success (or failure) at living well (and just maybe finding happiness). It’s not about the successes and joys so much as it is “how do I deal with this terrible shit??”

So this morning, I’m taking my time really waking up and starting the day. Sipping my coffee happy that I have coffee to sip, and pausing to wonder if I’m making the best choice of coffee beans – can I make choices that are less likely to support a corrupt or exploitative system in which profiteering prevents farmers and workers from living their best lives? Small choices can make big differences. Our choices matter. Even the small ones.

I breathe, exhale, and find myself – instead of relaxing – fighting the pain of my arthritis on a sunny morning. I repeat the exercise: breathe, exhale, relax. I do it again. I keep at it until my first thought/sensation following that exhalation is anything at all other than pain. Small successes matter. I’m still in pain, but now I’m actually breathing comfortably instead of taking shallow breaths stiffened against the pain I’m in. That’s something.

…60 is approaching quickly. I keep finding myself thinking about family, friends and comrades-at-arms with whom I won’t be celebrating – because they’re gone. Just, like, for real gone. Dead. The permanent kind of gone. More than a few missing faces. Gloomy. I don’t know why my mind keeps wandering this path. Feeling my years, maybe? It’s been an interesting life thus far… I’ve seen some things. Done some things. Experienced some things. Some of it good. A lot of it. More good than not.

…I hold on to that thought, “more good than not”…

It’s time to begin again.

Iced coffee (black) and a fizzy water (plain, cold) and a day of work ahead of me. I’m not even bitching, it’s simply where the day is, at the moment.

I slept rather badly. Couldn’t fall asleep, but wasn’t stressed about it. Minutes of meditation and daydreaming became hours, and when I finally had to get up to pee, I looked at the time. It was late. I’d be getting a nap at best, and that is what came to pass. I returned to bed and crashed hard, waking abruptly around 04:15, though I don’t know what woke me. I got up, dressed, and headed to the city for the work day. With the changing season, I caught the sunrise on the commute – it was lovely. Shades of peach and pastel pinks and oranges created an exciting backdrop for the blue of the shadow-side of the mountains out on the horizon. It was almost distracting, and I almost pulled over to watch the sunrise with my whole attention.

I’m doing my best to stay engaged. The work day is just beginning. I’m tired though, and my mind wanders, and I keep coming back to some communications challenges that persist for me (brain trauma is a hard one to beat for lasting challenges). I also keeping thinking about my garden.

I clearly planted something here, but I don’t recall when or what.

I’m thinking about a sunny spot in the front flower beds where two clean rows of… something… have now sprouted. I don’t recall what I planted there. I forgot to jot down a note in my notebook, too, apparently. It’s obvious I did plant something; those rows are too orderly to be happenstance. So… what did I plant? I sip my coffee and wonder, and then find myself wading into a metaphor…

…When I look at life as a garden, and consider the care, the cultivation, the practices, it all fits so well, and then… there are these seedlings that have sprouted, which I clearly planted… and eventually they’ll become something, but I don’t know what, and it’s hard to be at all invested in whatever they are. If I water them… well, they might be weeds, do I want to water and care for them? What if they turn out to be something noxious or undesirable? If I don’t water them… well… maybe they’re something unusual, fancy, expensive, or carefully selected with my garden’s lasting beauty in mind? What then? Will I have squandered precious resources?

I find myself still struggling with some things as a human being. Communication is one of those things. Specifically, I have a problem with interrupting. I work on it pretty aggressively, but still (often) come up short of the desired outcome – which is listening deeply and not interrupting people (any people; everyone wants to be heard). The “seeds” of this challenge were planted a long long time ago. The nurturing or care those “seeds” were given most likely either did nothing to reduce the likelihood I’d interrupt people as a chronic issue, or potentially made it worse, by whatever success as a coping mechanism it may have once had. This thing isn’t a fucking “seed” any more; it’s g’damned tree. It’s massive, and it’s branches shade so much of my experience interacting with others that it affects the entire garden, now. What the hell? When I did even plant this thing? How have I not been more successful at least pruning the fucking thing back to some sort of manageable size??

I sip my coffee thinking about what we “plant” in our lives that grow to vex us later. It’s not always a walk in a manicured rose garden, this thing called life. I’ve definitely got to be more diligent about “ripping out the weeds”… and also garden with more care, taking better notes, and making a clear point of being present in the experience.

…If nothing else, I most definitely need to begin again.

I’m sipping my coffee thinking about work. Thinking about life and love. Just sitting here thinking. Yesterday wasn’t a great day… but it also wasn’t actually a bad day. Neither my Traveling Partner nor I had slept well the night before. We were both more than a little cranky as a result. We managed not to snarl at each other to the point of being insufferably unpleasant, though we were also not super cheerful or inclined to be close, and it showed in our interactions. Prickly. Terse. Irritable. We could have done better. So much better. Even after a decade of living and loving, we have room to improve on how we treat each other, how we behave under the influence of stress or fatigue, and how skillfully we heal and soothe each other. Still, we spent much of the evening hanging out together more or less contentedly. That was nice. Looked at through a different lens, it was actually a pretty good day, generally.

Another sip of coffee, my thoughts turn to work. Sometimes I love this job. Sometimes I see myself as just another “corporate whore” making a go of it, earning a paycheck, and keeping that going to keep bills paid and food on the table, doing my best but also understanding that it’s a paid gig because I would not stick around doing this shit for free. Practical. Pragmatic. Still doing my best, because that’s what I’m paid to do.

“Baby Love” in bloom, May 15, 2023

I think about how far I’ve come, for some minutes. 15 years ago, life did not look like this. I lived in a seriously run down apartment in an area characterized by economic struggle (and mostly inhabited by students, and people who could not afford a nicer place or something closer to work). I had a job with a title that sort of impressed me when I took the job, but turned out to be camouflage for dirt wages and a toxic work culture. I was surviving, but definitely not thriving. My mental health was in bad shape, and I was pretty heavily medicated without great results. My relationship(s) were suffering my lack of good mental health care. My self-loathing and despair had become a quagmire of sticky trauma preventing me from making changes. Change was coming… but I didn’t know it, couldn’t see it, and for sure was in no condition to make wise rational choices about how to best move forward from where I stood. My life had reached some sort of steady-ish equilibrium of misery that had enough to sustain itself for whatever remained of a lifetime, and I had mostly sunk into a deep apathy about it – the resulting persistent anhedonia and general misery oscillated with occasional (frequent) explosive tantrums.

15 years later, I barely recognize myself as the same woman. I have a nice little house in a pleasant suburban neighborhood on the outskirts of a cute town in a country county. I’m surrounded by good neighbors, working-class skilled laborers, machinists, makers, professionals… you know, people. Good-hearted people, mostly kind nice people. Good neighbors. It’s a nice town. My job title? These days it rarely reflects the complexity of the work, and it doesn’t much matter; I’m paid fairly for the work I do. I work for companies, generally, that treat folks well. My mental health is in a great place, relatively speaking. I could be healthier. I could be “saner”… incremental change over time is still something I count on. Slow progress, steady progress. I feel hopeful, generally, and positive. I make changes fairly often, rarely really large changes – doesn’t seem necessary, generally. Small things make big differences. There’s no “equilibrium of misery” – misery feels incredibly shitty these days, because it is rare. I’m fortunate that I’m rarely miserable. Anhedonia? No thank you. Explosive tantrums? Rare enough these days that they are not a feature of my experience, just an occasional and unfortunate circumstance that trips me up when shit goes sideways. CPTSD. It’s not going to “go away”, it just gets better, slowly. 🙂 I’ve got better tools. So many tools.

…Then there’s love. This partnership. One of the best “tools” in my toolkit is my partnership with my Traveling Partner. Healthy relationships may not “fix” everything… but unhealthy relationships? Surely capable of destroying progress and emotional wellness! I’m glad every day that I’m so fortunate to have this partnership. I feel cared-for and supported day-to-day. We’ve got our issues and challenges; we’re still human primates, we still lead with our emotions, we still fuss over vexing bullshit and blow small stuff completely out of proportion now and then.

It’s been a hell of a journey. In May, we celebrated love together, 12 years of it. In June we’ll celebrate that I’ve stuck around to see 60 years of sunrises. Wow. That feels like a bigger deal than 21, 30, or 40, by far.

…I guess the entire point here is, taking things a step at a time becomes, at some point, an entire journey. Choices, verbs, steps, decisions, circumstances, events… time passes. This too will pass – whatever “this” is. The journey is the destination. There’s value in trying to make it a good one, one change at a time, one choice at a time. Begin again.

It’s a lovely sunny (hot) weekend. I’ve spent some time in the garden. Spent some time making shower fizzies. Spent some time on the trail. My Traveling Partner has spent some time traveling. He’s spent some time unpacking the truck, now that he’s home. His adventures were not ideally successful, camping-wise, it’s just too early (this year) for some of the location he (we) wants to go to. We learned a lot about better ways to pack the gear, and other things we’d like to add to that. We (meaning, in this case, he) learned a lot about what the truck can do out beyond the paved roads, too. Worthwhile.

He sent me pictures along the way. (credit to my partner for this image)

I got some solitary time. I also feel incredibly loved; I can’t even fully wrap my head around my partner’s willingness to just keep hitting the road to give me some space, once he understood how badly I needed that time to myself. I am so very loved.

There are sights to see on a small scale, in the garden.

The garden is looking good. I finished the spring and early summer planting by adding a couple tomato plants – a yellow cherry tomato, and an heirloom San Marzano plum tomato variety. I tried to ensure that everything I planted in the veggie bed met two basic criteria: we actually eat those particular vegetables, and the varieties can be expected to do well in my location. lol Flavor, novelty, and experimentation were not my first concerns; I want success this year. I want to harvest veggies and take them straight into the kitchen to add to a salad, a side dish, or a stir fry. I want lush green greens, and good harvests. Everything can be relied upon to taste fresher than the store, just because it’s growing right here, and allowed to ripen before picking, no need to strive to achieve better flavor beyond that, really, it’ll be fine. : D

The lupines are blooming out on the trail.

So… a pleasant weekend. Enough. More than enough. Good…

…Only…

Fuck I am in so much pain. :-\ It sucks. My neck aches, and my occipital neuralgia has flared up. My back aches with arthritis, in spite of the sunshine and the heat. It seems unfair. On top of that, this morning on my walk, I got buzzed by an aggressive jay (I probably strayed to close to a nest, maybe), and without thinking, planted my right foot, and twisted “out of the way”. The twinge of pain in my right leg, outer thigh up high toward my hip, shot through me and immediately impaired my ability to walk (at all). I was (and remain) incredibly grateful I already had my cane with me, but I could have done without the additional pain (and injury). I hobbled carefully back up the trail, and headed home.

My Traveling Partner is in pain, too. He’s been working pretty hard for more than a few days. The pain makes him cross and easily irritated. I suppose I am, too. He makes a point to grief me about mulch left on the sidewalk, assuming that was a byproduct of my gardening instead of the remnants left behind after I cleaned up most of it after cats or racoons made a mess of things last night. I point out the error, and he accepts the correction graciously, but walks away while I’m still talking, and without apologizing for the irritated accusation. It’s that kind of day, I suppose. Pain shrinks our world, and pulls our focus inward, while filtering everything through our negative state of mind. Very human. I don’t make any kind of point about it, instead I just return to my writing, letting the moment go. It’s not personal, it’s just pain.

…Don’t get me started about the allergies. The cottonwood trees are blooming, and I am apparently allergic to those. LOL Fuuuuuuck. Summer’s coming. 🙂

There’s more to do. It’s time to begin again… slowly… while also managing this pain. lol (It’s still a lovely weekend and I am in good company.)