Archives for the month of: January, 2024

I’m awake on a snowy Sunday morning, on a long weekend in January. It’s cold outside – too cold for me to go walking, and the roads are in a hell of a mess after the snow, and quite icy. So… I’m home for the morning, and giving myself (and my Traveling Partner) some space to wake up. After a few minutes of “headphone silence”, with the world muted by having headphones on but no music, I put on a playlist.

…I slept in this morning. So delightful. So rare. I slept well and deeply. I really needed that. I hope my Traveling Partner slept well, too; I haven’t had an opportunity to ask, yet. He was polite and very clear that he wanted some time to himself to wake up, when I greeted him this morning, so I made coffee and made my way to the studio. It’s wonderful to have that option on a snowy day. 

Yesterday’s headache is… part of yesterday. Today’s pain is just the manageable day-to-day sort of pain I live with. I do the things that help to ease it, and I work to stay alert and mindful that it’s still worthwhile to put real effort into being kind and being present and being my best self in all the minutes I am able to. It’s an aspirational bit of work, sometimes; I’m still very human. I breathe, exhale, relax. I take time for gratitude that I’m not hurting, today, the way I was hurting yesterday. My Traveling Partner was supportive and kind and careful to be gentle with his words yesterday, knowing the headache was just fucking crushing me. Today? I don’t know yet what today holds – it’s full of opportunities and possibilities.

Maybe we’ll hang out watching South Park? Maybe I’ll read a book? Ooh… I could make a couple new batches of shower pucks for that fragrant luxurious shower experience! πŸ˜€ The day ahead is full of chances to choose, and opportunities to enjoy moments. My heart is filled with love, and my head is full of thoughts and questions. The music plays on. I consider maybe painting. The song in my ears makes me want to grab a paint brush.

A shot taken in 2021 inspires me.

There’s no telling what the day holds. It could all go badly sideways in an instant, but I don’t dwell on that possibility; no reason to create it from imagined bullshit or anxiety. I can live in this timeless now, filled with potential, and choose with more care than that. I smile thinking of my Traveling Partner. Fuck, I love that guy. He is my partner, my best friend, my muse… I find myself missing him from this short distance, already.

I’ll guess I’ll finish this cup of coffee, and this bit of writing, and begin again…

…I remind myself for perspective that there are worse headaches than this one. The worst headache possible would quite likely be much worse than this. This one’s bad, though, and I didn’t sleep well with it once it developed. I woke cross and irritable and in more pain than usual, and it’s not a good place to be…but… it’s icy and stormy outside, and I’m safe and warm inside, and I guess things could be just so much worse. No bombs falling on my neighborhood, for example. No flood waters rising. No terrible plagues sweeping through the community. I’ve got this good cup of coffee, and this quiet office, and that’s saying something. I’m in a fortunate place. I just happen to also have this really awful headache competing with my arthritis pain for my attention. It’s shitty, but… it could definitely be worse.

…I sip my coffee and try my best not to be obviously irritable. My “best effort” feels incredibly inadequate, and I commit myself (again) to at least going through the motions of being a pleasant human being if I’ve got to interact with my Traveling Partner – but it’s admittedly easier to be alone in my studio, headphones on without music, avoiding the necessity of interacting until called upon for some specific act of support or care that he needs enough to ask for. Some days, I’m recognizably a fairly limited and shitty human being whose “best” is wholly inadequate for “the common good”. Still doing my best. Hoping to outlast this headache without being a shit to my partner.

My tinnitus is incredibly loud in my ears – that’s often the case if I’ve got a worse-than-usual headache. This one is complex, a combination of my brainstem “feeling like it’s on fire”, and intense aching pressure across my forehead, from temple to temple, and behind my eyes. The whole painful mess seems to begin with my neck, up high, against my skull, and deep inside – I find myself wishing it were “only” a tension headache instead; that would almost be a relief. I know my Traveling Partner worries about my headache. I’m overdue to pursue more attention on some of these physical ailments. I admit I’m frustrated to the point of learned helplessness as far as dealing with them, though. I sigh and remind myself not to catastrophize; it’s just a headache, right? It’ll pass.

I sip my coffee – it can’t be helping that I didn’t have my first sip of my first cup of coffee until almost 10:00, when I’m usually drinking coffee by 05:30. That’s one truth to be mindful of; the habits and routines that comfort and support me come with consequences, in some cases quite visceral and real consequences, when those habits or routines are broken.

My coffee tastes good. I barely notice or care. The headache is a major distraction. I feel my occipital neuralgia beginning to flare up across the left side of my face. Fucking hell, this too? Well, the coffee is soothing and welcome, and I try to force my focus back to that experience.

I peek out a window and see snow.

Snow fell during the night. It’s just a dusting, really, but the temperatures fell to well below freezing – 20 degrees at 10:00 am. I’m definitely not dragging my arthritic bones out in this. When I’m feeling less cross, it’ll be delightful to hang out and maybe watch movies or something. Maybe bake a coffee cake. The forecast suggests these cold temperatures may last until Tuesday… I take a minute for heartfelt gratitude that I am able to work from home. I often go into the office, because I can, but it’s definitely something I am grateful to have a choice about. My Traveling Partner put a lot of love and attention into my home office space, and it’s well-prepared for pretty nearly any sort of work I do, whether personal or professional, creative or billable (or both). It’s nice. I take a moment to appreciate the self-love and attentive self-care that have gone into this, too. I didn’t get here without me, any more than I got here without my partner. πŸ™‚

…Good coffee…

How to begin again…?

However bad it feels in some one moment… it’ll pass. If you let it pass. Give yourself that chance. Take care of that fragile vessel. Have a cup of coffee (or tea), or a drink of water. Take a shower. Breathe. Go for a walk. Listen to the wind. Get some fresh air. Listen to some music…

This one hit me in a special way the other day, and it’s lingered since then… particularly this bit:

Oh no, love, you’re not alone
You’re watching yourself but you’re too unfair
You got your head all tangled up
But if I can only make you care
Oh no, love, you’re not alone
No matter what or who you’ve been
No matter when or where you’ve seen
All the knives seem to lacerate your brain
I’ve had my share, now I’ll help you with the pain
You’re not alone

“Rock-n-Roll Suicide”, David Bowie, Ziggy Stardust 1972

I must have worn that album out in half a dozen different formats over the years… lost it… come back to it. It lives on in my memory. I know the words by heart, but can’t sing the tune (human limitations being what they are, I’m no David Bowie! LOL).

Sure, sure, we’re each having our own experience. Fuck that can feel so lonely sometimes, right? But… we’re also “all in this together” – humans being human, stranded on this one mudball hurtling through space, together. So fragile. So… amazing.

I smile quietly to myself and reflect on that much younger woman in the mirror… so damaged and cynical and angry. There were still so many tears ahead, too… I’m not sure I could have endured that had I known what was to come, but the lived moments have passed pretty fucking quickly in all their complexity and beauty and sorrow and love. It’s been a complex and interesting journey so far… and I’m not alone. Here we all are, eh?

I sip my coffee and watch the clouds beyond the window as daybreak arrives and becomes dawn. There’s Winter weather in the forecast and perhaps I’ll be stuck at home for the weekend because of it, but… maybe not? Like anything else to do with the future, it’s an open question. There are a whole lot of possibilities that may – or may not – unfold. I’m feeling philosophical about that, and peculiarly, intensely, grateful that I stuck around to find out, and let the future unfold.

…You’re not alone. Give yourself a minute, and a bit of care. Let the tears fall. Begin again.

I’m sitting in my car, listening to the rain falling. It’s a chilly Winter morning. There’s serious Winter weather in the weekend forecast. I think about going to the store to “stock up”, but I find myself wondering if that’s more reflexive than necessary. We’re generally pretty well supplied with day-to-day basics. I could pick up some convenience items I guess, maybe fresh veggies and some chicken…

The pain I am in this morning is “ordinary”. It’s part of my daily experience of life, and it’s difficult to bother bitching about it sometimes. Yes, I’m in pain. Yes, I took something for it. No, that doesn’t really resolve it. I try to avoid letting pain call my shots, because at least for now that’s still an option.

My Traveling Partner is also in pain. He also does his best to manage it. I can’t know directly how much pain he is in, but I feel for him in that “fuck, I wish I could help” kind of way. I feel pretty helpless, though; aside from my concern and general helpfulness I can’t do much about his actual pain. Nor can he, for me.

Physical pain is one of the least pleasant experiences of being alive, I personally think, but it’s also pretty commonplace.

I sit with my thoughts and breathe. The rain falls. The wind blows. Occasional gusts rock the car. The trees along the trail just in front of where I am parked wave as a group in the wind. A very committed runner goes by, headlamp shining brightly and illuminating the path ahead of him. The rain continues to spatter the car.

… I’m so tired. I haven’t been sleeping well. I’d sleep in if I could, but that hasn’t been successful in a while. I feel rundown and overextended. I know I need more/better rest. I don’t actually know how to get that, presently. There’s a lot to get done and with my Traveling Partner injured, a lot of it falls to me. I remind myself I only need to do my best and that has to include taking care of myself. It’s reasonable to fall behind on some things. I make that okay with myself (again), and focus on today, now.

Sometimes life isn’t easy. It’s okay that it isn’t, and it doesn’t need to be made more difficult with a bunch of bullshit expectations of reaching beyond our abilities, time, and energy. It’s okay to slow down (unless you’re being chased by a bear or something, in which case maybe don’t slow down! πŸ˜‚) It’s important to take care of this fragile vessel. It’s even necessary.

I yawn and look at my calendar. It’s time to begin again.

Pro-tip: don’t add to your physical pain with your bullshit and baggage. I mean, if you can avoid it, it’s a good choice. This morning, my Traveling Partner offered me a master class in how to refrain from adding additional bullshit to a pain-filled morning. Reflecting on it, I’m pretty impressed.

I woke from a fairly shitty night’s sleep in a lot of pain. He was already up, and also in pain. I wasn’t much in the mood for conversation. That was clearly also the case with him. I got up. I dressed. I got ready to leave (early) for work. We exchanged few words, and a brief kiss, and I was on my way. A short while later, he sent me a message checking in on me, wishing me well, and making a point to alert me he was in pain, and doing his best. I felt pretty cared for, honestly. Neither of us was feeling our best, and the morning got off to a pretty good start without either of us “starting shit” or creating chaos or unpleasantness out of our shitty moment individually, in spite of that.

Sometimes adulting is hard. It’s super easy to take dumb shit personally, or to lash out at someone else over a purely subjective bit of unpleasantness going on for us that doesn’t have to affect anyone else at all, if only we acted with sufficient care. I sit here sipping my coffee, appreciating my Traveling Partner for the effort he makes every day to show me the love he feels… even when he’s “not feeling it”, because all he really feels is physical pain. For sure, he’s as human as anyone. We both are. It’s not always a perfect effort for either of us, and sometimes things go awry in a vexing way, but… not this morning. I enjoyed an easy commute, partly because my heart felt light and I felt loved in spite of being in pain. Hopefully, he does, too. The day begins well.

I got to the office, made coffee, and tackled the payday stuff with a smile. I just went from being a contractor, to being full-time (with the same company) and I’m enjoying the feeling of security, and a sense of being “back on track”. I sit with that awhile, feeling grateful for the “here and now” and grateful for a good partnership to rely on in tough times. It’s enough. More than enough – it’s pretty exceptional (based on my own limited experience).

I sit quietly for a few minutes. It’s awhile yet before daybreak. Still quite early. There’s time to reflect, to meditate, to sip coffee, and watch the night slowly become day. There’s time to begin again. πŸ™‚