Archives for category: Allegories

I got my car detailed yesterday. It’s a small SUV that suits me well. Over the past couple of years, though, as much as I love this car, I’d grown pretty used to using it as more of a tiny pick-up truck than as a “car”. We moved. Started a business. For big needs and small needs, my SUV served us well. We only needed to rent a truck specifically to haul something twice: once for a king size mattress, and again for a band-saw. Not bad. Here’s the thing though; I wasn’t investing time in proper care of my SUV all this time, and aside from occasionally taking out all the bits and pieces of trash and nonsense flung about or running it through a car wash now and then, I just wasn’t caring for my car as though it were a car I love… I was just “using it up”.

…I catch myself doing that with my own reserves of energy far too often…

So, after my Traveling Partner got a pick-up, it was clearly time to put things right with my car. I got it detailed, to give me a head start on keeping it nice, again.

Getting into my car after it was ready to be picked up was… an experience. It was cleaner than it was when I bought it! Wow. Every nook and cranny… clean. Carpets? Clean and deep dark black once again. Upholstery? Clean. Not a single crumb or mote of dust to be found. Super clean. That under-dash panel that popped off a couple years ago (that I was obviously too lazy to put back)? Back where it belongs. That wee clip or cover for something or other? It’s back on, too. The car smells clean. Wow. Just… yeah. Wow.

It was once again a thoroughly enjoyable experience to drive my SUV. Like… a total blast. I do love this particular car. Have since I first drove it. I’ll probably get a new one in a couple years – that good. In the meantime, though, the experience of enjoying this one? Fully restored. No trash or empty coffee cups on the floor. No dust or crumbs anywhere at all. It’s such a cute ride.

This is a real experience – but it’s also a metaphor. If we drive ourselves so hard that we begin using ourselves up, never taking time for self-care, or a moment to appreciate our accomplishments, or to just enjoy our life for a little while, we lose the joy that our experience can provide. We begin to lose a sense of what makes us special as an individual. We begin to take our qualities for granted, and become – even with ourself – exploitative and potentially even abusive (of our own self, and this fragile vessel in which we reside for this mortal lifetime). Life can become a grind. A series of errands.

It’s down to the details, isn’t it? How I care for myself matters; doing so, or not doing so, changes my experience of myself and my life. Worth considering.

I sip my coffee thinking happily about my very clean cute SUV. I think about the conversation my Traveling Partner and I were having last night about making some changes to our shared camping gear to account for the truck – it has vastly more room for things than my SUV! Trying to camp in style with just gear that fits in my SUV is a bit limiting, and fine for a solo experience, less so for the two of us. I grin thinking about my Traveling Partner shopping for a proper camp kitchen set-up. I generally get by with my Jet-Boil and freeze-dried camp meals. lol I’m looking forward to better camp food. 😀 (He’s a super good cook, too.)

A new day dawns. I think about odds and ends and things I need to get done. A quick trip to the grocery store. Put essentials back in the car now that it’s detailed (like, hey, the freakin’ paperwork back into the glovebox!!). Launder my all-weather gear that stays in my car for whenever I need it. Emergency kit. My spare cane. I shift in my seat restlessly.

…It’s already time to begin again…

I am listening to the rain falling. The fact that it is the sound of rain falling on a video is not relevant; it’s raining outside, too. I just don’t hear it with as much clarity as on a video of rain falling. lol I like the sound. It is one that I find very relaxing, and has the pleasant byproduct of tending to minimize my tinnitus – at least while I am listening to it.

It’s Monday. My first coffee is gone, and I exist in the gap between that and my second cup. I’m set up for work and the day has started, though I’ll shortly step away for a few minutes to drop off my car to be detailed. It’s no longer necessary for me to use my car to haul lumber, parts, and tools for my Traveling Partner’s shop, now that he’s got his truck. Time to get my car back in beautiful cared-for-car shape once again. I’m excited about that. This is probably my favorite vehicle I’ve ever owned, and I like it best when it is clean and well-cared-for.

…funny which things turn out to matter most…

My second cup of coffee is more or less identical to the first. Dawn has become day. There are things to do, and I’ve got a calendar, a list, and a plan. It’s time to begin again. Already. 🙂

Some days “enough” really is enough. Today is like that. It’s an ordinary Sunday. I slept well and deeply and woke to my Traveling Partner’s gentle touch. My coffee is good, and the morning is pleasant. It’s a rainy day, and I still managed to spend some short time in the garden, planting early germinating cooler-weather seeds. Nice morning for it.

I hear the washing machine in the background, and the steady whir of the computer fan, even over this video of rain sounds I have on in the background. It is raining, today, but I rarely hear that from inside the house unless there are open windows, or it’s rainy wickedly hard. In the bathroom, the rain falls hard enough to sound like a small steel drum perched on the roof, or a distant wind chime. Pretty.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s a good day for relaxing. I mean… Easter Sunday, you know? I’m for sure not planning to go to any retail spaces; the few that open will likely be quite crowded. Why bother with all that? Home is cozy and warm, and the companionship is genial. No stress, today, just quiet joy.

Shrubs removed, blueberries planted – but still so small they are barely visible against the fresh compost.

I spent yesterday in the garden. I got a lot done – like, everything on my list for the weekend, really. 😀 My Traveling Partner cut down the shrubbery I disliked, and even dug out the roots. I feel very cared for and supported; it’s a busy week for him in the shop and he still has time for me. I loosened the soil in the bed, pulled out what remaining tangled shrub roots that I could, mixed in generous amounts of well-aged compost and good quality soil and planted the blueberries I’ve been planning for since we moved in. So exciting! It feels like a milestone. I’ve got roses (8). I’ve got blueberries (6 bushes, 2 each of 3 varieties). I’ve got a raised bed veggie garden. I’ve got a plan. It feels good.

My wee balcony garden, in 2011.

I think back to my Traveling Partner and I moving in together. Our apartment had a balcony, no yard. I had a handful of roses in containers. He helped me build my garden, there, surprising me with deck-rail pots, and soil, and then too… I felt so thoroughly loved. Love can endure. Like a thriving garden, it needs care, attention, effort, and good quality “seeds” and “soil”. I smile thinking about my many small container gardens over the years, and my one previous, long ago, “garden at my own home” – a garden built in the midst of terror and chaos, stressed by Texas heat and lack of skilled care. It didn’t do very well. I wanted to force it to thrive but that’s not how gardening – or love – works, at all. I learned a lot… sometimes that’s the most we can get from an experience.

I’ve got a long-ish list of things to do today. Chores. Laundry, dishes, vacuuming, that sort of thing – nothing at all fancy, just routine shit I need to get done to prepare well for the upcoming week. All good. I’m not vexed over it. Not fighting the necessity. It’s just the day ahead of me, and I’m enjoying it as it is. That feels pretty wonderful.

I smile thinking about my rainy day garden, and the robins out there enjoying the freshly turned up earth and easy-to-reach worms. I wonder if this is their favorite time of year, and whether they have any sense of our human “seasons”. Things I think about over coffee on a rainy pleasant Sunday, before I begin again.

…I’ve got a list…

Sluggish start to a new day, in spite of this good cup of coffee. I’d very much rather be sleeping. lol My reminder to take morning medication goes off, startling me; I’ve usually taken it and silenced the alarm before now. I chuckle quietly to myself – that’s the whole point of having an alarm, these days when I’m sluggish and not super alert. Purpose fulfilled.

I am musing contentedly about “things that bring joy”. Pretty subjective notion, there, but I am … entertained? Satisfied. It’s a reasonable bit of reflection for a slow morning. What brings you joy? It may be quite different in some regards to what brings me joy… although… human primates being what we are, there’s surely a lot of overlap? I think about it. While I reflect on what brings me joy, I also contemplate how to deliver that kind of joyful experience to someone else. What could be more delightful than the joy someone experiences through some little thing I may have done? I love that feeling. 😀

…The joy itself is a pretty splendid feeling all on its own, too, is it not?

I smile to myself and remember to update the budget to reflect changes, and feel a bit of background anxiety melt away. The anxiety wasn’t over the expenses themselves, or even the budgeting or the spreadsheet; it was the loose end, the awareness that the budget was not up-to-date. That’s the kind of shit that so easily can wreck a moment, a day, or an experience, so I pause my writing, hop over to Sheets and update my budget to reflect changes my Traveling Partner and I had discussed. Feels good that doing so doesn’t provoke any anxiety at all – it only eases it. That feel new(ish). I savor the moment with a contented sigh, and a sip of coffee.

I let the clock tick away without giving it much attention. I glance at my hands. I’ve torn them up lately, mostly over background anxiety and bullshit, wholly unnecessary and mostly completely unrelated to any real thing in my day-to-day experience. I’m okay… but my torn cuticles tell their own story. The other night, my Traveling Partner quietly, without prompting, and with a very serious concerned look on his face stepped over to where I was sitting and just handed me a bottle of lotion for my poor hands. lol I got the hint. So… I’m working on focusing more on joy than stress, and doing my mindful best to keep from tearing at my cuticles or biting my nails. It’s super hard. I keep practicing. It’s gotten so much better than it once was – still not where I’d like to be. I’ll just keep at it, patiently, building discipline through diligence and practice. We become what we practice.

…Sometimes it’s quite difficult to practice not doing something…

I breathe, exhale, relax. I find myself thinking about far away friends and “once upon a time” long ago moments of shared joy.

My eye lands on the clock. It’s already time to begin again…

I’m sipping my coffee, which is going cold faster than I am drinking it. The sky is slowly shifting from night through the dawn-shades of blue and soon it will be daylight. I breathe, exhale, relax, and sit quietly and contentedly in the early morning stillness for some minutes before my fingers ever touch the keyboard. I spend a few minutes just enjoying the quiet time.

Yesterday evening was lovely. Not fancy. We didn’t have anything planned and didn’t do anything noteworthy, it was just a lovely evening at home together. I’m just making a point of reflecting on it, and enjoying that recollection.

One of the most challenging details of emotional wellness, mental health, and building resilience, is simply the essentials of day-to-day practice. Meditation only “works” if I do it. Regularly. Reliably. Same with the breathing. With the self-reflection, acceptance, and non-attachment. As with physical fitness, so much of these shit is “use it or lose it” – if I stop meditating, I lose the resilience that comes of it. If I stop practicing “being calm”, I slowly descend into emotional chaos over time. If I stop taking long (looooong) walks? I slowly lose endurance, fitness, and even the appetite for the endeavor at all. So much depends on taking a first step, then another, and developing a practice.

Discipline. Not the “discipline” of punished wrongdoings – the real discipline of sticking with a plan, of following a path, of staying the course with a practice – even over a lifetime. Discipline. I don’t have that much of it, honestly, thus the need to practice. When I practice with great reliability, I build my discipline and yes, become disciplined – and it’s a transferrable skill! If I am disciplined with regard to my meditation practice, it’s far more likely that I’ll also be disciplined about self-care, household chores, and deep listening, and the dominoes begin to fall into place in an orderly way. Discipline keeps me on the path to becoming the person I most want to be. 😀

It starts with a breath.

It starts with a practice.

It starts with a step.

It starts with a new beginning.

Are you ready to begin again? Where will this path lead you?