Archives for category: Allegories

I got my walk in early. I started just at daybreak on this mild Spring morning. I walked a bit aggressively, lost in my own thoughts, eyes fixed on some point ahead,  but without really seeing. I felt cross about the way my morning started (with my Traveling Partner’s aggravation over being wakened and struggling to breathe, as I finished dressing to leave).

…Took me awhile to let it go…

I had wished him well and expressed my hope that he could get back to sleep. He didn’t seem to think he would and expressed that in a way that kept our exchange on my mind as I walked along, over-thinking it unsatisyingly.

…I seriously could have done a better job of letting it go, and letting small shit stay small…

I didn’t really begin to enjoy my walk or adjust my attitude until after he pinged me a cute sticker of a little cat tucked in for sleep, indicating he was going back to bed. Damn, I love that guy. At that point, I was easily able to settle down and sort myself out, with a sigh and a smile and a feeling of gratitude. Shit could be a lot g’damn worse in life (and love).

…We’re each having our own experience…

When I sat down to write, I took a quick look at the “page stats” for this blog (it’s not about numbers so much as insights into what people choose to read, and I often find new relevance in old writing). I found myself re-reading a post from almost 18 months ago, and reflecting further on perspective, change,  and the importance of self-care. It gave me real clarity on the morning, and restored my sense of perspective generally, and how good things truly are. Reading a relevant older post is another way to “be there for myself”, and practice good self-care, and another way to regain perspective. (I say a silent “thank you” to the reader who read that post yesterday; reading it this morning was helpful.)

…My Traveling Partner is on his own journey, having his own experience, and taking that at all personally isn’t a helpful approach to partnership…

Here. Now. Perspective. Sufficiency.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s a pretty morning. The temperature here is a comfortable 50°F or so. The sunshine lights the blades of grass and the trunks of the oaks in the grove where I sit perched on a picnic table enjoying the sunrise. It’s still quite early and I am not rushing back to the house. I’ve got a cup of coffee and this quiet moment to myself and I am enjoying it.

…Sometimes the best thing I can do to take care of myself is to simply take a few quiet minutes to breathe and reflect…

Later today I will take my Traveling Partner to an appointment with a specialist. I hope there is promising news about what can be done and what the long term prognosis for his recovery from his December injury may be. It’s hard watching him suffer and struggle. I feel so helpless so often. I definitely want to do more to alleviate his pain and discomfort than I seem able to. It’s not about me, though; I just want this human being I love so dearly to be okay.

I sigh out loud and catch myself picking at my cuticles anxiously. Yeah… still human. Still prone to worry and stress. I breathe the fresh Spring air deeply and exhale slowly. I can smell the hedge roses that are on the other side of the parking lot adjacent to this park where I am sitting, and the scent of recently cut meadow grass. I enjoy the smell of Spring, grateful that my seasonal allergies are nothing like as severe as my Mother’s allergies, or my Traveling Partner’s. They’re mostly pretty mild, and seem very specific to certain local flowering trees. That time of year is already beginning to pass.

I am in rather a lot of pain this morning. It’s been an issue all week. I take the medication I have for it. I cope the best I can. I remain unwilling to let my pain call my shots and I try to “just live my life” in spite of it. My results vary. I make a point of not complaining much about it, to the point of generally mentioning it only in passing, if I mention it at all, in conversation. It’s not that I find this to be a helpful strategy, it’s just that there’s nothing to do about it, really, that I’m not already doing, and I am very much aware that my partner is in a great deal more pain than I am. I don’t want to make that about me. I just want to do my best to support and care for him while he’s injured and working on recovering. He knows I am in pain, it’s a chronic condition. No point making that “a thing” – right now it’s just a distraction.

I sit with my coffee and my thoughts awhile longer. Soon enough it will be time to begin again.

My walk this morning was early, quiet, solitary, and thoughtful. Pleasant. Nice way to begin a new day.

When I started down the trail, a glance at the sky in one direction revealed dense dark storm clouds, homogenous and gray. Looking the opposite direction the sky was bright with promised sunshine later, and shades of peach and gold. Between these, fingers of clouds stretched across from one perspective to the other, feathering away to nothing into the clear skies from the stormier view. I walked along thinking about perspective.

This morning I am missing my Dear Friend who died earlier this Spring. There is so much I would share and talk over with her. There’s a particular feeling of rather acute loneliness that turns up within me each time I remember, again, that there’s no point in writing an email to share some particular moment with her, to get her perspective, or to share my own. She was always first to see new paintings (after my Traveling Partner, who is right here), and first to read new writing. Now… funny; I haven’t painted anything at all since she’s been gone. I take fewer pictures and rarely share them. I walk on with my thoughts, feeling the solitude from a different perspective.

…I have an appointment with my therapist later this month, but it’s nothing like talking and sharing with a Dear Friend…

I’m 61 this year. In about 7 days actually… I feel strange that there are so few around anymore who will care about that at all, or even know about it, if I don’t mention it. 61 doesn’t “feel old”, from this lived perspective, but I’ve lost (or lost touch with) many friends and family members who might once have been celebrating my birthday. It’s a strange feeling. I walk on.

I find myself feeling a bit blue as I walk. I wonder whether it may be some lingering effect from tinkering with my medication in order to do the requested diagnostic test. Seems possible, but I don’t really know. I keep walking.

By the time I am back to the car, I feel rather as if I’ve experienced an entire day’s worth of emotion and shifts in perspective, simply walking along with my solitary thoughts. I’m okay, and I am okay with having emotions (and thoughts about those), but it still feels strange and somewhat empty this lack of my Dear Friend to share some of this with. It’s not as if she were my only friend, nor even the only friend I regularly email… but it’s her perspective I am missing so painfully. I’m very aware of that, this morning.

…Every time I think I might like to paint, or feel inspired, or feel that inner tug to return to the studio, my heart seems to answer “why bother?”. This is an unexpected outcome of my grief over this particular loss…

I relied on this Dear Friend’s perspective as counterpoint or reinforcement of my own for some 25 years. I guess I am not surprised that I miss that. I know I am not surprised that I miss her.

Tears fall as I sit with my unexpected moment of grief. My grief expands as my tears fall. I cry over the loss of my Mother, although we never forged a close adult relationship, and were rarely closer than “pleasantly civil”. I grieve that lack of intimacy and connection. My tears fall for my Granny,  too; she did much to raise me and prepare me to find my own way as an adult and she was more mother to me than my Mother was. I’m not criticizing; we expect too much of women, and motherhood isn’t a good fit for all of us.

…I guess I am just feeling kind of alone with the years this morning, as I approach 61. Strange that it hits so hard on this quiet morning, 7 days from my birthday. Stranger still to feel this way when I am truly not “alone” in life. I have a loving partnership, and a handful of good friends (though some are distant), and the fond regard and esteem of many others…

Feelings are not facts. The map is not the world. The forecast is not the weather. I sit with my emotions and breathe. This will pass. I will begin again. I’m okay for most values of okay.

I give myself a moment for gratitude and reflection. I take time to consider more immediate worries than my lingering grief over lost dear ones. My Traveling Partner’s health is top of mind, often, lately and I find myself wondering if the weight of my worry over that may have provoked my thoughts to turn elsewhere for something that feels more “manageable”? Interesting perspective…

…My Traveling Partner pings me a greeting. He’s awake. It’s time to head home, and begin again.

I’m sitting at the half-way point of my morning walk, thinking about an interesting moment of recognition at the gas station earlier that illuminated the importance of not being a jerk to people, and of “values” generally. It constrasted rather dramatically with a moment in the Congressional interview of Dr Fauci that I saw yesterday while I was at my appointment, in which a Congressional representative refused to address the renowned physician by his title.

This morning while refueling my car, a man at the adjacent pump ahead of me called out, in a friendly tone, “Gotten coffee yet?” I laughed and replied “Not yet, that’s next!” He pointed to my license plate and said “I saw your license plate, and knew you were a coffee person.” I assumed from his remark that we probably frequent the same coffee place. My license plate is sufficiently distinctive to create recognition, I guess, but there’s really nothing about it that shouts “coffee”. This, by itself, was somewhat educational.

…Don’t be a jerk in traffic, especially if you have a distinctive or recognizable vehicle (but mostly because that kind of shitty behavior is rude, and frankly dangerous)…

When I pulled into the drive through to get my coffee, there was the guy from the gas station, directly ahead of me. I waved. He waved back. It wasn’t creepy, and there was no stalker vibe, it was just two people,  and a moment of shared recognition. Very human. Very civil. The sort of thing that characterizes small town life. It was a pleasant moment of community.

Recognition matters. Willfully withholding recognition when it could be offered is pretty rude (like refusing to call a person by their title in a setting in which it is expected), and in some circumstances could be viewed as an act of aggression. It’s definitely rude, if nothing else.

What I found interesting in the comparison between the Congressional interview and the unexpected recognition at the gas station this morning, was how clearly it illustrated the value of civility in daily life, and the way an individual’s decision to be civil (or not) can alter an interaction. I could so easily have been terse or rude to the stranger at the gas station, and under some circumstances that might have seemed appropriate. The rude ill-mannered Congressional representative aggressively refusing to address a physician by the earned honorific of “Doctor” could have profoundly improved the productivity and tone of the interview by simply choosing not to be rude, and maintaining a civil presence as a professional… although that no doubt generates fewer clicks and views on media pages, and social media platforms.

Recognition matters. Being civil matters, too. It’s rather a shame that we’re not teaching these skills, rewarding this behavior, and promoting these cultural values. They seem pretty worthwhile.

I learned an additional lesson this morning about small town living, “Karens“, and recognition; it’s a small world, and we are noticed as often as we are ignored – and it’s pretty damned difficult to know when it’s going to be one vs the other. Being on our “best behavior” (and by this I mean specifically  being “civil”) is a good general approach. We make ourselves memorable to each other through our words and actions. We affect the world and people around us thereby. We are seen. Visible. Recognized. Our words and actions can change another person’s experience.

…How do you want to be known? By what characteristics do you wish to be defined? What is it about the person you are that you want to be recognized for? Who are you when you are the person you most want to be? Are you practicing that?

…Can you actually see yourself in your mirror the way the world sees you? Is that who you see yourself to be?

Wheaton’s Law is still very relevant. Having and practicing good values really matters in the world. What are your values? Have you chosen wisely? Do you actually live the values you say you have? You have the opportunity every day to do better for yourself, your relationships, your community, society, and the world. Just saying, it’s something to reflect on.

…Can you speak to a manager without becoming a “Karen”? That’s a useful skill to cultivate.

I take a few minutes to think about my “big 5” relationship values… respect, consideration, reciprocity, compassion, and openness. Are they enough? Am I practicing them consistently? What changes can I make to live up to my own expectations better and more consistently? Am I reliably sufficiently civil to be welcome in good company?

It’s a gray morning that threatens more rain. I’m in a more or less typical amount of pain, but feeling much more myself than yesterday. I think of my Traveling Partner, sleeping at home, and my awareness fills with love. I contemplate this morning’s interesting lessons and how best to make use of them within the context of love and partnership.

I gather my thoughts and get ready to begin again…

I slept poorly, last night, when I slept at all. It rained through the night, and I listened to it when I was awake, between restless naps. I figure the most likely cause of my restless night was having to abruptly discontinue several regular medications in preparation for a diagnostic procedure later today. I probably should have expected the difficult night.

I finally woke to stormy skies, and my Traveling Partner also (already, temporarily) awake. He was eager for me to get on out of the house for my walk and expressed hope that I would be gone “a long time “. It’s a work day, on top of a day with an appointment in it, and a day that follows a night of truly shitty “sleep”. I’ll plan to do my best to treat the hapless humans on my path with kindness and gentleness; they can’t know what I’m going through right now.

My head aches all sorts of ways. I find some limited comfort in an iced coffee (having already confirmed I would not have to give that up, too). My back aches (with my arthritis), on this rainy morning. My tinnitus is loud (so loud). Complicating all of these, my head is stuffy from not taking allergy medicine, my guts are all churned up (no idea what may have caused that) , my “sense of things” is just… off. I feel uncomfortable and irritable.

…It’s still a work day… my partner still also had a poor night of sleep…

I got a walk in, between rain showers. Now I’m contentedly sipping coffee in the car, watching the sky shift from ominous gray storm clouds to bands of blue sky peeking between clouds that hint at the chance of sunshine… but I see showers in the distance, moving across the horizon.

I start my work day from this pleasant spot, catching up my email and checking Slack channels. I pause for a moment of gratitude that this exists as an option. I can linger here pretty comfortably, and let my Traveling Partner sleep awhile longer before I take a seat in my office, and risk waking him with a meeting, or the sound of my typing.

As quickly as the sun broke through the storm clouds, it disappears again, and I see a rain shower approaching. I don’t much care, one way or the other; I can’t stop it from raining, and may as well enjoy the moment anyway. It’s just weather.

I sigh quietly to myself. I’m prepared for today to feel awkward and uncomfortable, and possibly a bit difficult, but so far things are okay. It’s enough and I feel pretty contented, generally. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I do my best to set myself up for success…

…I get ready to begin again…

How to find joy; make room for it. Be open to it when it happens upon you. Savor the joyful moments. Allow joy to exist. Sounds so simple…

…Sometimes it’s not so simple and requires some practice…

I’ve got the trail to myself this morning.

My tinnitus is loud in my ears this morning. It can be a real irritant. I look for joy in the moment, and build that by listening for the breezes rustling Spring foliage and whispering through the meadow grass along the trail as I walk. I listen attentively to the birds singing their morning songs. I craft joy in this moment by filling my thoughts with pleasant recollections of recent other joyful moments,  taking time to savor them and fill my heart and consciousness with these precious small delights. Joy doesn’t require grand gestures, big purchases, or flare. Many of my most joyful moments are humble bright spots in life that might go unnoticed if I allow myself to wallow in misery instead.

…Funny how easily we can become focused on, and mired in, our most miserable moments, and how reluctant we can be to spend similar time and energy on the things that delight us and feel good…

Spring flowers are blooming.

Sustaining joy is largely a matter of being willing to put more attention on it day-to-day than on the many small shitty experiences that occur in a human lifetime. I hate pointing it out, but… it’s a choice.  No kidding. It’s as simple (and as difficult) as choosing joy, and choosing to prefer it as a priority for putting time and attention on. That’s truly difficult when stuck in some unpleasant moment or enduring some crappy experience in life, nonetheless, it’s a choice.

…In my darkness moments, I still could have chosen joy, instead (a rather annoying matter of will)…

It matters what we choose to put our attention on.

Yesterday was a good day. I spent it on housekeeping and hanging out with my Traveling Partner. He spent the day healing and working on his laptop. I cleaned the kitchen thoroughly and spent a little time sorting things out on the new Linux OS on my desktop computer. We enjoyed meals together, laughter, conversation… a very pleasant day. I take a moment to savor the recollection. I chose joy all day. Toward the end of the day a couple packages arrived… for me!

…I  keep forgetting my birthday is coming up in a few days. lol It’s not any sort of “milestone year”… and 61 doesn’t feel “important” beyond surviving to celebrate it at all. Getting a couple unexpected (extra) gifts from my Traveling Partner delighted me immensely. 😀 😍 🤩  One rather practical (ish) gift of camping gear; a somewhat fancy pour-over set for making coffee, and a wee jar of an exotic rose petal tea. I  sit grinning and feeling incredibly loved. This human being “gets me”. I feel fortunate to be enjoying his presence in my life…I’ve never been more loved (as far as I know).

My big birthday gift is a delightful marble run that my partner 3D printed for me, and which I assembled before my camping trip. It’s super cool and captivates me. I love watching the marbles going around! I enjoy “seeing chaos in action” and it’s a beautifully harmless chaos model.

Joy is a funny thing… like contentment (and unlike “happiness”), it can be cultivated, crafted, and sustained… but that does require choices to make joy a priority, and to put time and attention on embracing joy. Make time to linger on, and savor, joyful moments. Stop ruminating over and catastrophizing small moments of unpleasantness. Your results will definitely vary, but we really do become what we practice.

…Cultivating joy may cause you to become an actual optimist, which honestly isn’t so bad (although I don’t think I could have imagined it when I was deeply cynical and pessimistic)…

I enjoy joy… it’s enjoyable. lol

I smile to myself, thinking my thoughts and watching the river flow by as I  rest and write at my halfway point. It’s a good day for joy. I breathe in the scent of Spring wildflowers and listen to the birds and breezes. I fill my heart with joy before I head back up the trail to begin again.