This morning I “hate humanity”. I mean… it’s not even humanity’s fault, this morning. I have a headache. Base of the skull, at the back, just where my neck connects. Does it feel like a tension headache? No. Doesn’t feel muscular at all, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t. I don’t know. I know I have a headache, and it is pretty fucking terrible. My Traveling Partner suggests drinking more water. Yep. On it, already. Makes sense. Maybe it will help. I’m just saying; I have this headache and it colors my entire experience of life and my perspective on humanity and the world, generally.
I’m making a point of mentioning this for a reason; you wouldn’t know if I didn’t if I didn’t tell you, but you’d likely still experience something or other unpleasant if you had to interact with me right now, and you’d potentially not know why things went the way they did, due to that lack of information. You don’t know what you don’t know, and nearly everyone is going through something, quite silently and alone with their shit. That missing context matters. Be patient with people. Be kind. Be sympathetic and empathetic and compassionate. Be aware.
…And also… take care of yourself and use your words. No one is going to read your mind.
Fucking hell, this headache, though… right now I don’t care that it is the start of the holiday season, or… mostly anything. I’m just cross and headache-y.
It’s evening. The long holiday weekend is over. Pie has been eaten. A holiday meal has been enjoyed. Thanks have been given, and the holiday season has begun. The tree is up – and even decorated. It’s a lovely quiet evening.
One of the new ornaments, made with love by my Traveling Partner.
I’ve managed to irritate my Traveling Partner in some small way. Not with any intent to do so. Not even sure what exactly has annoyed him, but I don’t care to make it any worse, and we have spent the entire weekend together almost continuously. lol I head to the studio to work on the holiday cards; they need to be in the mail within the week to reach everyone before the Giftmas holiday. I look over my materials. Pick out some patterns I like and get to work on my layout. Using the Cricut gets easier with every project (even for me! lol).
It’s a nice sort of break. I make time for a moment of writing, too. It’s been quite a lovely weekend, and I’d like to make a point of appreciating that, and reflecting on this tremendous quantity of joy – soak in it, and soak it up, and fill my heart with all this love. It’s a nice way to spend a few minutes.
Making time for creative projects also fills me with joy. It’s a way of creating joy out of chaos or conflict that I find useful; step back from the mess, and create something new and beautiful. It’s a form of tidying up, I suppose, which also calms me and fills me with joy. Creating order from disorder is, for me, a self-care practice. 😀
How was your holiday? Have you taken time to cherish the moments of joy? Have you shared them with others in conversation or correspondence? If the holiday was less than ideally joy-filled, putting focus on the things that did work is a nice way to bring some balance to your recollections. I breathe. Relax. Smile. It’s been a lovely holiday, and it doesn’t require much in the way of effort to reflect on the joy it brings me – but what does require effort is to make the time to do that willfully, with intention. So, I do that while I’m taking time for myself in the studio. Creative work. Emotional work. They “play nicely together”. 😀
I’m sitting here watching the sun rise. I’m fortunate to have (and enjoy) the opportunity. I was out on the trail early, just at daybreak. It’s a frosty cold Autumn morning, here. There’s no rush to return home, and I know these early hours are good ones for giving my Traveling Partner a bit of time to get some sleep. We each have our different difficulties with sleep, and getting out of the house for a morning walk is one great way for me to show how much I care.
… And I enjoy the walk, the sunrise, and the quiet time alone, for myself…
Enough light to see the trail.
This morning I get back to the car too early to consider heading home, and haven’t yet gotten a “good morning” message from my partner, so I take time to meditate, and to sketch the gnarled old oak on the slope in front of my parked car. I’m bundled up for winter weather, but as the minutes pass, I become restless and ready to move on with the day. There’s a tree to decorate in the living room and I am filled with festive joy.
… It’s still pretty early. Saturday. I consider heading toward home and perhaps stopping along the way, maybe a bit of shopping?
I smile knowing my partner is getting the rest he needs.
Migrating flocks pass by overhead.
I listen to the sounds of migrating flocks of birds passing by. It’s a new day. It’s time to begin again.
I’m grateful for the terrible cup of coffee in my hand as I walk this morning. I switch hands with it, warming each in turn, walking and watching the sun rise. There’s mist in the low lands along the marsh, but it looks like blue skies above, so perhaps a sunny day ahead?
I stop and set down my coffee to take an occasional picture.
I walk and watch the dawn become day. The air is crisp, clean, and cold. Frost edges the shrubs and dry grasses. The gravel of the path crunches under my footsteps. Lovely morning for a walk along the edge of the marsh, in spite of the cold.
The path beyond me beckons.
I walk with my thoughts. My heart is filled with love and gratitude. What a pleasant holiday my Traveling Partner and I shared! The meal was excellent. The day was merry, and we delighted in each other’s company all day long. We each exchanged holiday well-wishes with friends and loved ones over the course of the day. We had everything we needed and more, and it wasn’t necessary to go out into the world or run any errands. We enjoyed the day at home.
It’s a new day now. I’m enjoying this quiet time on the trail on a chilly Autumn morning. I wonder if my partner went back to bed for a bit more sleep? I smile and finish this dreadful cup of coffee before it goes cold, and drop the cup into a trash can on my way back to the car. It’s already time to begin again.
I woke to my silent alarm this morning feeling vaguely uneasy. It developed into a pretty notable moment of anxiety in the time between getting dressed and making my way to the living room, where my Traveling Partner was sitting, already awake, headphones on watching something or other on YouTube. I’d planned to work from home, although he had more than hinted that it would be a good day (for me) to go to the office (for him). I figured I’d just get a walk in, early, let him sleep awhile, then work from home, but… why the hell would I drag him along if my anxiety was going to flare up?
“Anxiety” 2011
I could hear the rain hitting the rooftop vent while I was in the bathroom getting ready for work. There’d be no walk this morning – that was when I decided to make the drive into the city after all. Maybe traffic would be light, being the day before a holiday? (It was.) Maybe the office would be quite comfortable since the HVAC was repaired yesterday? (It is.) Maybe I’d feel more focused, and less inclined toward being anxious if I were wrapped in the peculiarly routine mundanity of “the office”? (So far, so good.) So, off I went…
PDX on a rainy Autumn morning.
I sigh and sip my coffee. The day started with that moment of anxiety, but it hasn’t continued, and I feel okay. Absolutely ordinary self-doubt and second-guessing and bullshit that I can certainly get past, given some time and attention, and the appropriate self-care tools. Is it “holiday anxiety”? I mean, honestly, it could be… pretty ordinary human stuff right there. I’m prepared for the day (and the weekend), more or less. We’ve decided on a simple fairly traditional holiday meal to kick of the season, and it’s just the two of us this year, so the modest meal should be manageable for me to tackle on my own, which is necessary this year; I expect my Traveling Partner may spend much of the weekend actually working due to a fairly important project that dropped on him earlier this week (very exciting). Seems likely to be a lovely little holiday.
…I remind myself that his birthday is also coming up fast, and although I’ve already done something for that in a manner of speaking (“…Let’s call this your birthday/Giftmas present, then!”), I’m not the sort to let his birthday pass with not a single actual gift on the day, and I think I’d like to do something special for dinner and dessert… I amuse myself briefly considering the matter, and looking over his gift wish list and wondering how current it actually is. (I’ll have to ask.)
I make a mental note to remind my partner I’d like to get the holiday decoration stuff down out of the attic space, and find myself wondering if that stuff would be a better fit for the storage unit, where I could more easily retrieve it myself without help…? I generally spend the latter part of the Thanksgiving holiday weekend decorating for the Yule season and preparing the holiday “pudding”.
…I’m feeling very festive this year, but also feeling very much “behind on things” somehow…
Funny. When I paused to write, this morning, I had very different thoughts in my head. Something altogether else, that I found perhaps more suited to something I might write on Thanksgiving… something about gratitude, about friends cherished over years, about sharing recipes and memories. But these ended up being the words that tumbled out and landed on this page. I’m okay with that. I’m feeling festive and grateful, and I’m pleased that my anxiety has receded. I find myself hoping that my Traveling Partner went back to bed after I left, and wondering what woke him so early this morning (and hoping it wasn’t me, somehow).
I sip my coffee and “take inventory”. I’m in pain today. It’s the weather, and my arthritis, and the sort of “nothing to see here” bullshit to do with aging and old (physical) trauma. I take something for it, and move on with the moment – it’s already time to begin again, and I’ve got shit to do to get ready for the holiday cooking (tomorrow) and work (today).
Evening Light 