Archives for the month of: November, 2023

I’m a slow learner. I mean, I’m often “quick to understand”, but it can take a surprising amount of time and repetition before something I’ve been exposed to as an idea actually becomes part of my enduring thinking. I need a lot of repetition, and practice. Which is sort of good, from the perspective of potentially protecting me from succumbing to momentarily appealing dumb shit, but it also kind of sucks, because it just takes a long fucking time to get even long-studied knowledge past my impulse control challenges or resistance to change. Pretty human, honestly. It frustrates me. I’m thinking about it.

This Hallowe’en season I succumbed to my impulsivity with regard to noshing on goblin snacks far more often than is heathy for me. I did notice (that’s not nothing). It was definitely not “good for me” – and I’m making a point of paying attention to it. I found myself vexed by my impulsivity once or twice, even as I popped a tasty sweet into my mouth that I didn’t even actually want. Wild. Thought-provoking. So. I was thinking about it and found my way around and about to asking myself a couple questions pre-sweet, and mentally insisting that I ask & answer, every time. Every temptation (food-wise, I mean):

1. Do I need it to survive?

2. Do I need it to sustain my current activity level?

3. What need does this try to satisfy?

4. Is there a healthier or more nutritionally suitable choice?

It may seem rather facile or silly – or just fucking obvious. It also worked (for me). I more or less immediately cut out the nibbling or grazing on sweets (the sugar is really not good for me). Feels like a win. I’m hoping to hold on to this bit of progress, and maybe see where it takes me. Small wins matter a lot more than we tend to give them credit for. 😀

…Time passes too quickly to wait for New Year’s Day to make a change!..

It’s a big day, today – just a Saturday, but a new business machine makes its way into the shop tooling today. I can tell my Traveling Partner is excited. He’s practically vibrating with anticipation. I’m excited, too; I have “a thing” for interesting machines.

…The machine arrives. My partner confirms it when I ask. There it is on the dining table, quite real, sitting there after the initial unboxing, taking up space (it’s not yet a familiar sight). My partner asks me to bring him his smaller flashlight, and to open the curtains for better light, and for help with picking up the packing material that is strewn about. I open the curtains, bring the flashlight, and pick up the packing material (putting it back into the shipping box, just in case there’s any reason it may need to go back). I get back to my own doings, and these musings, shortly afterward… it’s a pleasant day for another cup of coffee, so I made one. But… it’s pretty late in the day (after 4 pm), and I’m probably more thirsty than truly wanting a coffee, so I also get a big glass of ice water, and wander back to my studio. I quickly find myself drinking the water, ignoring the coffee.

…Which brings me back to those damned questions! LOL

A full moon setting one recent frosty morning.

It’s never too late to begin again. I mean, if there’s life left to live, there are choices and opportunities ahead. Don’t like things as they are? Do something differently. Maybe it won’t change the world, but it can certainly change your experience of it. 😀 Sometimes, that’s enough.

…I didn’t say any of it is easy. Some of the questions are hard questions. Sometimes I don’t like the answers. Sometimes the choices are complicated. Sometimes the opportunities seem limited. Sometimes I feel trapped by my circumstances (although often it’s only my own thinking holding me back). I just keep at it. I mean… what else?

I take a sip of my rare 3rd coffee, and recall a time in my life when I pretty much drank coffee all day, from the first cup after waking, until I finished a final after dinner coffee sometime much later. I had coffee at my desk while I worked, and coffee in my canteen (when it should have been water). I had a favorite mug at home, and a favorite table in the nearest cafe in every town I lived in as an adult. It’s not about the coffee. It took me awhile to understand that. It’s always been about the moment, and coffee just happened to be the handy vehicle for living it, for me personally. The obvious reason to take a break. The good excuse to sit down for a minute. The excellent opportunity to get together with friends. The very mundane process I could use to anchor myself to reality in a moment of emotional crisis.

This is an excellent cup of coffee. It’s a very pleasant moment. I breathe. Exhale. Relax. I’m here. Now. It’s a good place and time to be this woman I’ve become over the years. I’m good with it. It’s enough.

So… about that next new beginning…? I wonder where this path leads?

One frosty morning.

I’m relaxing. Enjoying the evening. I’ll probably be up rather late; I collapsed into a foggy, dreamy, lush nap shortly after I got home from work (and after making a short trip to a favorite local pie spot to pick up a pie – why not? I like pie…). I woke refreshed, and found my Traveling Partner had slept through the time I was napping, himself, relaxing on the couch. We must have needed the sleep. Dinner was simple, nothing fancy.

…There’s nothing about this that is significant, important, or, probably, even interesting. It’s just a quiet evening with nothing much going on. It’s pleasant, and that’s enough.

I’m in a lot of pain tonight. It’s not “new pain”. Just my arthritis. Chronic. Predictable. But not new. I mean, shit, I first started feeling the twinges of what would become my “constant companion” in… 1988? 1989? Something like that. About 35 years ago. At first I thought there was “something seriously wrong” with my spinal fusion – no one explicitly warned me about the likelihood that osteoarthritis might set in, in the adjacent vertebrae, or gave me any idea what to expect when it did… until after it was part of my experience. Not much of a fucking “warning”, but what could have been done? It’s not like a warning about arthritis would have caused me to decline the surgery that lets me walk, stand, and get around as well (and go as far) as I do. So… I hurt. I mostly don’t mention it out loud to other people. I probably minimize it more often than I should when I’m talking to my Traveling Partner. I don’t like him to worry, or stress over it, and for fucks sake, what could he even do about it? Basically nothing. So… why bitch? I just deal with it and try to move on. Take medication when I need it. Keep myself moving (because being too still too much of the time definitely makes things worse over time – a lesson learned decades ago). Sometimes it’s hard. Life, too. So… yeah. So what?

I distract myself with entertaining videos. I write. I listen to music. Play video games. Read books. I enjoy life. It’s already likely to seem far too short. 🙂

No one likes to hurt. Pain sucks. I remind myself how common it is that we do. For sure there are people who have it much worse, more of the time, than I do. Perspective; it is so much more profound to experience contentment and joy, because I definitely do know what it feels like to be mired in pain and misery. Maybe it’s enough.

…Be kind to people. It’s not always obvious how much pain someone is in, and how it defines their experience. We’re all just people. Pain is part of being human.

Live. Work. Sleep. Wake. Repeat.

It’s time to begin again.

Do more of that. No kidding. If you’ve something that gives you joy, delights you, provides you with comfort, satisfies you, and lights you up from within – do more of that. I’m just saying… if it makes you happy, do that. Or not. You can choose misery if you’re more comfortable with it…

…Maybe take your chances on something that feels good in a healthy way…?

I’m sitting here thinking about lessons learned, what feels good, what brings me joy, and the temptations in life that seem like they bring me joy – but come at a high cost. (Looking your way, gummy candy!) In this particular moment, I’m giving some thought to my health, and the consequences of snacking on goblin treats as the Hallowe’en holiday approached. It really wasn’t good for me. Quite a reminder, though, and I am making a point to not do that now, and to drink more water, and thinking ahead to a walk later; this is a fragile vessel, and one mortal life seems barely enough for all the things I’d still like to do. I can do a better job at taking care of this meat sack while I reside in it. lol

Making good choices requires both discernment between what merely feels good in the moment and those things that have more lasting (healthy) value – and being willing to make the hard choice. Sometimes it’s hard. Sometimes I need help. You, too? There’s real value in sharing the journey when it’s difficult. I think about my Traveling Partner, and his willingness to share his own struggles. He patiently tells me (again) when I drift toward unhealthy meals, reminds me what he likes, what works, what leaves us both feeling healthy and nourished. (Damn, dinner last night was so good!) I sit with my thoughts awhile, feeling loved. I’m fortunate to have found in him a friend as well as a lover. He’s not perfect – neither of us is, and we’re more alike than not, which is weird in spots. lol

…A wave of subtle sadness and nostalgia washes over me as the day breaks to a gray cloudy sky. I let my playlist put my feelings into words. It’s already time to begin again.

It’s a lovely quiet evening. I’m relaxing, listening to the sound of rain. It is actually raining, but I can’t hear that; the house is a pretty quiet one. I’ve got a video on that is also raining. It’s a nice backdrop to a few quiet minutes. I’m enjoying the satisfaction of a work day well-spent and feeling wholly appreciated. It’s lovely. I worked from home, too. All around a first-rate day.

…Later I’ll finish reading Lord of the Rings (well, the first of three volumes), but for now, this is enough…

My Traveling Partner is in the other room. He and his son and their online friends are louder than usual. He attributes it to good sound quality and someone with a boomy voice. I didn’t argue; from my vantage point, they are loud compared to usual. It’s a “joyful noise”, though, and I am not disturbed by it. They’re having a good time. I’m having a good time. It’s a good time.

…I’m well-aware there is much horror, violence, and conflict in the world, but my sanity quickly breaks down if that’s the entirety of my focus…

I think about things. I think about projects for the holidays that seem to be distant on the calendar, but feel imminent in my sense of things. The “crafter’s CNC machine” in the studio, waiting for my attention is also in my thoughts, as is the written and video content I’ve queued up for additional study. Yes, for me it takes rather a lot of reading, study, practice, reinforcement, failures and re-attempts to learn new complex tasks to get myself to a point where I feel confident and more assured of reasonable successes than likely failures. That’s just real. I don’t weep over it often these days, I just seek to account for it and do the needful. I think about love – and being asked to fold 4 dry towels in the middle of a busy work day by a partner who is… not working at the time he made the request. lol I think about the 3 loads of my own laundry that I’ve continued to not fold for something like… 3 weeks now? 4? I just keep wearing what I like, putting it back through the laundry and dropping it back on the stack of clothes. It’s fucking dumb, and I don’t know why I’m stalled on that, but totally willing to do the very same task for my Traveling Partner when he asks. It’s a bit of weirdness, and I’m familiar with it. I’ve “been here before”, and there’s a real chance it’s a “canary” of heightened background stress not being adequately dealt with in some way.

I sigh contentedly. In this pleasant, quiet moment, it’s easy to forget all about whatever the fuck is up with me in some seemingly abstract way. I know better than to avoid it indefinitely, but I don’t at all feel like dealing with it now. It’s nothing I can do much about… the world, warfare, the violence of angry strangers in places that are not here, now. It all weighs on me. I breathe, and let it go. Again. I listen to the rain, sip my icy cold glass of clear, clean, potable water and make a point of feeling grateful to be in this place, in this time.

I’m also in pain. It’s just physical pain. It’s my arthritis, and it’s Autumn, and rainy, and chilly, and none of this is unexpected or even new, and as much as I want to be annoyed and snarl about how much worse it seems… even that is purely perspective. It’s not as bad in hotter, dryer months, and the change of the seasons brings things round again to the season of pain. So, okay. I’m in pain. I’m not alone in that. I hurt. So do a lot of other people, some of whom have no means of finding any relief at all. So… more gratitude. More appreciation for how much worse it truly could be. I’ve been there, too. I’m not there now. This is better and that’s something worth feeling grateful for. My head aches. My neck aches. Those things are likely related to each other. Still, it could be so much worse. Yes, I’d like it to be better… but… I don’t think making a big deal out of it day after day after day will do much to improve the situation. Hell, I regret this bit of generally harmless grousing about it. I’m only saying it “out loud” because it is so very commonplace, and I guess I need that reminder.

Did I mention what a lovely quiet evening this is? I sit with that awhile.

…Then I begin again.