I only woke once during the night. The house was quiet. Quieter than it has been, and even through my tinnitus I could tell. Yesterday my Traveling Partner identified a peculiar ringing noise, something like a finger going around the rim of a crystal glass or something similarly annoying, and turned off the source. Apparently the feeling of relief was immediate – I definitely experienced that myself, when I returned home later in the day. We wondered together how much additional background stress that noise was creating in the household…?
The night was quiet. My sleep was more restful. I still woke in the morning with my tinnitus screeching and whining away in my ears, but that peculiar ringing is not part of it. Win. I woke in pain. Arthritis. It’s not any sort of unexpected surprise, it just sucks; the weather is beginning to turn towards autumn and there will likely be more days of worse-than-summertime pain ahead. That’s just real. It’s part of my experience, and I’m not really even intending to bitch about it, it’s just an observation of how things are today. I sigh, and wait for the sun; a walk will help.
My Traveling Partner pings me. It’s barely daybreak, and I’m surprised he is up. He shares his irritation at being unable to rest, sounding frustrated and annoyed. I don’t even want to deal with any of that, although I feel for him and wish he were having a more pleasant experience. I give up on my walk, start the car and head back to the house; it’s early enough to grab my laptop and head into the office to work, which will give him the day in peace. Hopefully he finds the rest and quiet time he needs. I walk away from our brief interaction at the house feeling annoyed with his negativity and stress, and being in pain myself, I start the drive to the office in a pretty savage mood. Unpleasant. I also spend the drive working on letting that bullshit go. I’m not the one who woke up feeling disturbed, distressed, and unable to rest. Not my experience. I’m the partner who had a solution ready-to-go and implemented it promptly without argument or drama. I’m okay with that role, and missing one walk of many is not such a big deal, really.
…I missed the sunrise, and I feel that in a particularly poignant way, which surprised me just a little. We are mortal creatures, and there’s no knowing how many sunrises may remain. I give myself room to have those feelings and respect them, and take time to feel grateful to have seen so many…
The drive to the office is calm, with very little traffic. I spend it more than a little bit “in my own head”, and arrive, park, and set up my day with an efficiency that highlights how much emotional resilience can matter. Worth the time spent practicing, surely. (And we become what we practice.) I breathe. Exhale. Relax. I’ve got the day ahead of me now, and I take a moment to write, and reflect, and savor the pleasant early start to the day; I don’t bother with the brief moment of disappointment over missing out on my walk, other than a gentle reminder to myself that it was a choice, and I could have chosen differently. I made the choice I did out of affectionate regard and loving concern for my Traveling Partner and his needs, on a day when I could easily do so. This is hardly a “sacrifice” worth any measure of sorrow. It simply reflects a mature and loving partnership.
So. Here I am with my tinnitus and my pain, an entire new day ahead of me. Seems like a good opportunity to begin again. 😀
Evening Light 