Archives for the month of: October, 2023
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Coffee Time

October 9, 2023 //
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I’m sipping my coffee and thinking about green tomato pickles. It’s not a random thought; I’ve got a lot of green tomatoes in the garden, and the season is quickly ending. Rather than waste that bounty, I have been thinking about what to do with those green tomatoes. Pickles? A relish? Sliced and fried? I’ve got options.

…Live is rich with options…

Last night my Traveling Partner and I closed out a lovely day with continued conversation about various household options, most particularly what he’s going to do about/with his work & gaming space. He is very much one of those folks who will regularly change things up with the decor, the arrangements, the utility of a given space. I’m one of the other sorts; I like to “figure it out” and have things as I like them, and then simply live with that more or less indefinitely until something forces me to consider a change. I find myself less likely to “become lost” in the middle of the night as though I’ve awakened in an unfamiliar place, if my place remains familiar. LOL No criticism of my partner’s approach, it’s just one of many variations on the theme of being human. Some people also drink tea, instead of coffee. Just saying – there are options.

…We both drink coffee…

…Okay, he also drinks quite a bit of iced tea, and I enjoy the occasional cup of hot tea on a chilly day, or in the afternoon. lol Options.

I spent yesterday afternoon in the garden. It was lovely time, well-spent. I didn’t get as far with things as I might have liked. I decided to let a few more tomatoes ripen on the vines, while there are still warm afternoons for them to do so. My original intent had been to cut the vines down and strip the green tomatoes from them and then… do something with those. I’ll still have that opportunity, it just won’t be this weekend. More time to decide on pickles or relish or some kind of delicious sauce for a chicken dish, or perhaps just fried up and served with scrambled eggs and toast some morning. 😀 I ache today, although whether it’s due to the work yesterday or the likelihood of rain today, I don’t know. It’s among the many things that don’t really matter, I suppose.

…Some things definitely matter more than other things…

I’m listening to the rain already, on a video. Considering all the many options for “content” that I could consume, it may seem strange that I so often choose this… but I find it both relaxing and also suitable for masking other sounds in the background. I enjoy it. I’m definitely a fan of choosing the options I most enjoy, when I’m able to do so. I’m fortunate that at this point in my life I am in no way prone to taking that inclination to hedonistic extremes; it can go very wrong for some people.

I sip my coffee and think my thoughts. Last day of a long weekend, for me. Work day for my Traveling Partner. I’ll likely find something to do at some point and do that… whether here or elsewhere is as yet unknown. I think about self-care practices, and I think about creative endeavors, and I think about the spaces in my life where those things collide…

…My Traveling Partner sticks his head in my studio and points out that I’ve got a good opportunity to have a soak before it starts raining today. It’s tempting… very. He points out that I am reliably in a better mood and feel better after a good soak. He’s right about that. So…

…Some time later, after a lovely soak on a not-yet-rainy-but-already-misty morning, I return to my writing and my now-cold coffee with a profound feeling of contentment, and a handful of homemade chocolate chip cookies. 😀 Options!

I’ve no idea what the rest of the day holds… I know I have options. Choices. Undetermined potential in the hours ahead… it’s a nice feeling. I munch a cookie and sip my coffee feeling as if “all is right with the world” – though I know that truly that is not the case in any global real-world way. Individual self-care requires me to care for this individual that I am, with my whole attention and will, and legitimate authentic consideration for myself and this fragile vessel. In this limited sense, “the world can wait” – these individual moments of contentment and joy have real value. Perhaps if more of us were focused on delivering, enabling, creating, and sharing moments of joy there’d be less will for bombing innocent civilians (or, frankly, anyone at all) into remnants of flesh and memories? Suffice it to say I am not unaware of the horrors of war, nor what is going on in the world beyond my little suburban home in the countryside – I just also definitely need to (and will) take care of myself. I’ve learned that lesson over a painful lifetime. “Put your own oxygen mask on first.” It’s good advice. In the event that oxygen masks deploy, whether for real or metaphorically, it definitely makes good sense to mask up before you start trying to put masks on other people. 😉

You’ve got options. Consider them. Take a minute and do it with intention and deliberation. Choose wisely. You are the architect of your own experience. You are your own cartographer on life’s journey. Choose your path and walk it. If you find that you’ve strayed…? Begin again.

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Categories Allegories, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being, turning 60, War and News of War

Pickles, Love Notes, Cookies

October 8, 2023 //
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It’s been a good weekend. Leisurely. Productive. Romantic. Merry. Casual. Relaxed. All around good weekend, still in progress…

My Traveling Partner left me love notes all over the house, recently. I haven’t taken them down.

I’ve gotten some housekeeping done. Cooked a good breakfast. Made a memorable lunch. Found tasty options for evening meals. I’ve also hung out, feet up, reading or writing. Made a batch of pickles from garden-grown veggies (including some delightful round lemon-yellow cucumbers). Made a batch of chocolate chip cookies (with walnuts). Enjoyed hours of my Traveling Partner’s thoughts and observations. Enjoyed loving him and being loved in return.

Love doesn’t have to be fancy or elaborate or exotic.

It’s been a good time to share with this human being I so love. I reflect gratefully on how fortunate I am (we are). I breathe. Exhale. Relax. I smile at him, though he’s occupied with his own thoughts and doesn’t notice. He’s vexed with new hardware. I remind myself that his frustration is nothing to do with me and let it go; he’ll ask if he wants my help.

…Right on cue, he asks me a question about a similar scenario I’d recently-ish experienced on an entirely different laptop. My recollection isn’t really helpful in any direct way, although he’s appreciative nonetheless. He knows I’m writing, and that asking me questions breaks my focus and my flow. I keep myself alert for his remarks in my direction as well as can, while also trying to let the emotion roll off me – it’s not “for me” or “about me”, and doesn’t have to be part of my experience in any practical way.

I think about a recent walk. It was incredibly satisfying and lovely. I went a bit farther than usual, at a slightly better pace. I’m working at improving my fitness, it’s just slow going. This particular walk was extra nice because it seemed I had arrived at the park first among visitors, and had the trails to myself for the entire walk, arriving back at the car just in time to see someone else pull in. It’s rare to have that kind of real peace an solitude, even for a few minutes, especially in a public place. I soaked it in. I savored it. I am thinking of it even now, days later.

Solitude as a perspective on a sunny Autumn morning.

It’s a funny sort of weekend. It hasn’t been “effortless” – no “freebies”. The crap in the news has triggered me more than once. It’s been rough here and there. I’ve worked at these joys and these precious moments. Still… in most ways, I think I can say with some pleasure and contentment that I’m… happy. Life feels pretty good. Small shit mostly stays small. I’m human. I’ve got my baggage. I’m prone to the bullshit with which I continue to struggle, but it’s not out of the range of “normal” human experience, I suppose. I’m okay with it. I get by.

…Practicing the practices…

…I’m not in this shit alone. That’s something. I’ve got friends and this delightful Traveling Partner of mine. I’ve got work, and purpose, and a sense of style. lol Feels good. I feel… whole. It hasn’t always been that way. I take a minute to enjoy the moment. Lo-Fi playing in the background. An atmosphere of calm joy. It’s nice.

I think I’ll “stay awhile”… soon enough it’ll be time to begin again. 😉

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Categories Allegories, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, The Art of Being, turning 60, War and News of War

Bolero

October 7, 2023 //
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Let me share an interesting story of coincidence, love, and – just maybe – one of life’s mysterious details. It begins (and, mostly, ends) with an ear worm on a long drive. I was driving home from my camping trip, with a snippet of music stuck in my head. It was familiar and unfamiliar at the same time… like a piece of music I’d surely heard at some point, but can’t say I’m particularly familiar with, don’t listen to really at all, hadn’t heard recently anywhere… nonetheless, I kept humming it, kept trying to “figure it out” with da-da-dah’s, and dum-dee-dums… could not place it, at all. Kept humming it, kept trying to sing it, kept driving…

I finally arrived home, and soon after I made a point of mentioning the song stuck in my head to my Traveling Partner, and how mysterious it was to have this unfamiliar (and, I suspected, possibly “classical”) music stuck in my head (still). He rather matter-of-factly asked me to sing it for him – a request that in many years past I would have been purely unable to accommodate for anyone, and would have frozen me completely with dread and anxiety (I promise you, I’m no singer). Still, with love and trust in my heart, I went for it… carefully trying to capture the phrasing of the tune, and hopefully not be too terribly off key… it began quite slowly with a soft prolonged note… then a cascade of notes with a very distinctive cadence. It was what I could recall, and as I’d been singing it to myself for literal hours, that bit was pretty firmly fixed in my recollection. I was inclined to simply repeat it many times, though I felt certain there was “more to it than that…”, and said so. My partner had a most peculiar look on his face, and muttered something about how unlikely…

…He turned to his keyboard, and pulled up a piece of music… “That’s it!” I exclaimed. “Is this it?” he asked almost at the same time. He told me he’d been listening to it that very day… and we compared the time and timing… I was “listening to it” at the same time he’d been listening to it… though he’d never shared it with me, or said anything about it. Classical music isn’t really “my thing” generally… Bolero. Huh. Now when I hear it (and I’ve listened to several versions since that day), I entirely associate it with him, with us, and with this love we share. How strange is love? How strange is this odd coincidence?

I’ll say now that I tend to be a rather practically minded woman, day-to-day, largely because without the secure “guardrails” of rational thought, I could easily stray into the surreal, the unfounded, the ridiculous, and even the conspiratorial…but… I don’t know everything. None of us know “everything”. There’s a lot out there yet to be known, by anyone at all. There are mysteries still unsolved, unexplained. I put pretty much everything “ESP” or “psychically” connected into that category. No proof, really, so… I just don’t know. I refuse to stake a claim to knowledge or adopt an attitude of certainty. I recognize a coincidence when I experience one. I’m familiar with the bizarre and unusual. Like I said, there’s much I don’t know. I’m okay with uncertainty and with not knowing.

…I do know that I now love the music of Bolero, and this human being who listened to it on the day it was stuck in my head, when we were separated by distance and connected by love…

Does it need to be anything more than what it is? Does it need an explanation at all? I don’t think so. It’s enough just as it is. Mysterious and fond. Like love. 🙂

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Categories Allegories, autumn, inspiration, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Moments, Parables, Perspective, Relationships, The Art of Being

Doing Better Even Though

October 6, 2023 //
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I’m sipping my morning coffee on a Friday off, and avoiding the news. I’ve got some chill lo-fi playing in the background, and my headphones on to further distance myself from the world. My Traveling Partner didn’t sleep well, and woke feeling cross with the world, so I’m distancing myself from him, too (and loving him deeply nonetheless). I’m thinking about how to best be (and become) my “best self” in spite of whatever the fuck the rest of humanity has decided to do (it doesn’t look good). How do I “do better” even though “the world” appears to be continuing to test the limits of doing worse? There are some puzzle pieces I don’t really understand how to fit together in this puzzle…

How do I persist in being authentically kind and sincerely agreeable and good-natured in the face of the potential that I may be perceived as “a doormat” – or an easy mark?

How do I set and manage reasonable boundaries – even within my closest and most intimate relationships – without causing friction or hurt feelings?

How do I speak my mind, share my truth, and discuss my own lived experience without sounding as if I am being contrary or “contradicting” someone else when they share their perception of who I am, what I think, or what I’ve experienced – and are incorrect, based on my perception and understanding of myself?

How do I enjoy my moments of joy without reservation or guilt or anxiety when someone I care for is having a shit time of things?

How do I just let go and live my life without spending time “dealing with” or struggling in the context of the expectations of others?

How do I observe the experience of others, notice their feelings, hear their words, and share space with them as beings in a considerate and respectful way without undermining my sense of self and my agency?

How do I ensure that I’m “visible” – truly being seen as the person I am, rather than some mental construct in the mind of the person I’m talking to, that has little relationship to who I am or what I think?

Just questions over coffee. The answers may be obvious to some of you; quite possibly you’ve already pieced this puzzle together. If so, I’m delighted! I know having a sense of these things as “answered questions” has the potential to make this human experience much more comfortable. I hope to get there one day, myself. 😀 In the meantime, I ask the questions, reflect on those, and perhaps one day I’ll answer them, too.

My coffee has cooled but it’s still quite satisfying, and at least for now there are still coffee beans available in the world to purchase for future such cups over which to reflect. 🙂 That’s something.

I’m in pain today. Just physical pain; it’s Autumn. I love this season, but it is a season of pain. With the rain and cooler nights comes the pain of my osteoarthritis, flaring up as the weather changes. I do my best not to take it personally (it isn’t personal), and to account for it when I take note of my mood. There’s no doubt it affects my relationships, my abilities, my “sense of things”, but I really try to limit how much my pain calls the shots in my everyday life. There’s so much living yet to do!

“Baby Love” still blooming. It’s a good day to stop to look at flowers.

…I look at the time and take another round of medication. Fuck aging. I mean… it’s tedious to take pills for pain, pills for my thyroid, pills for anxiety, pills for blood pressure, pills for a variety of aging-related health concerns… on the other hand, at least I’m getting to experience these years, and this life, and this love… I take a moment to fill up on a feeling of gratitude and appreciation. (Aging sucks, but the currently available alternative is worse. lol)

Good cup of coffee… time to begin again. 😀 It’s not like I’m going to change the world today, but I can at least do my part to make this small corner of it quite pleasant.

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Categories Allegories, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being, The Big 5, turning 60

From Good to Bad to Worse to…

October 5, 2023 //
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Better. Things are somewhat better now than they were earlier. This one is 100% “a me thing”. Menopause. Emotions. Age and aging. Frustration. Just the basic slop of being human, female, over 60, and a big ol’ basket of broken shit and fragments and wreckage, emotionally speaking. Having a trauma history has got to be one of the most human of things, and it’s probably a rare individual who manages to make it past 50 without any hint of trauma. If we don’t experience legitimate damaging trauma, chances are we’d make some up. Also? I have a fucking headache. I woke up with it, hours ago… it’s with me still. Very human.

I took my headache to the store and bought goblin snacks for the upcoming holiday. Fun. Still have the headache. Drinking water. Relaxing. Doing my best. All the things.

There’s nothing much more to say about the shitty start to the day. I enjoyed a pleasant walk and then “crashed my hard drive” later – metaphorically. Wasn’t quite a tantrum. Could have been much worse. Wasn’t my best moment. Blech. Adulting is harder than it seems like it could be, sometimes.

I’ll just begin again, again.

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Categories Allegories, anhedonia, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Frustration, grief, health, Hormone Hell, Menopause, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, turning 60
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