Archives for category: Allegories

Sipping my coffee and listening to the rain fall.

I’d been watching the rain fall, through the open curtains of the patio door, but in a careless moment of conversation with my Traveling Partner over our morning coffee together, I managed to inhale when I meant to swallow, with the end result of choking on a mouthful of coffee, about half of which ended up in my sinuses. While also hilarious, sort of, this disrupted the flow of conversation, and also made me incredibly uncomfortable and cross. Emotions spread like a brush fire in this household, particularly when we’re both so open, and vulnerable, and still sipping our first coffees early in the morning. Rather than attempt to pretend it away or struggling with it, I took my uncomfortable self and my coffee into my recently thoroughly tidied up studio to write, and reflect, and hopefully get past this (physically) uncomfortable moment. 🙂

He sticks his head in the door of the studio, and asks how I’m doing. I’m already okay by that point, and say something mind numbingly uninteresting about clearing out my spam folder. lol

This week my partner had taken time to hang curtains in the rooms that didn’t have any. All the windows had shades, so it wasn’t really a privacy thing – more to do with comfort, quiet, and temperature control. I am impressed with how much difference it makes! My wee library? Sounds like a library; there is so much quiet in there. The other household noises don’t really get through, if the door is closed, and the addition of curtains over the window have made the space somehow more finished looking, and even quieter than it previously seemed. The window looks out into the space between our house and the one next door, where both have air conditioning units placed, and also where the trash bins are located; it can be noisy on trash days, or when our neighbor comes home in the wee hours, or when the a/c cycles on… I mean… yeah. It’s noisy along that wall. Well, it was. Not so much now and I don’t really understand how a couple panels of soft fabric make so much difference. Hell… I’m even okay with not knowing how this works. I’m frankly delighted, and that’s enough.

I’m fortunate to be in a partnership that results in pretty reliably good quality of life. We each do our part. Our skills and abilities overlap in a few places – which is handy sometimes – and even more of our skills and abilities complement the other’s. Where things get super exciting (for me) is those areas of life where we just don’t have much common ground, skill-wise. I’ll likely go to my grave seriously impressed by some of the things my Traveling Partner has done to ensure we live well and comfortably. Partner. Husband. Lover. Friend. “Battle buddy” on days when it feels like the world is against us. I sit here sipping my coffee and feeling wrapped in his love. It’s nice. I’m fortunate.

Another sip of coffee, considering my good fortunate in life, these days, and generally… I take a moment to also be appreciative of the choices I’ve made, myself, to be in this place. I’ve made changes. I’ve grown. I’ve faced traumas and done much to put my chaos and damage to rest. I’m for sure not perfect, but I’m also not a passive observer of my experiences; I’m living my life, with my eyes open and my arms spread wide to embrace my circumstances on this journey to become the human being I most want to be. It’s not always easy, and it’s not always as I expect it to be – but I’m not a passenger in this journey; I’m in the driver’s seat, in my own life, and that feels so good to me.

Another sip of my coffee, and I find myself wondering and hoping if I do enough to provide an emotionally safe environment that my partner and I can both thrive in. I’m aware that it isn’t “all about me”. Ups and downs are real enough. There is emotional weather – and emotional climate. (I chuckle quietly, grimly pleased that our relationship is not facing a “climate crisis”, in spite of occasional “stormy weather”; the sentiment and experience please me, the metaphor strikes a grim chord.)

I find myself back at the titular recommendation. “Let the rain fall.” Yes, definitely do that. Honest tears falling in a moment of stress can be an enormous relief. No tears this morning. 🙂 I’m just saying – it’s not a reasonable expectation that we would be reliably able to “control the weather” – even emotionally. Especially emotionally? I’m often surprised (and yes, horrified) that we treat our emotions as enemies, so often, pitting them against our ability to reason and be “rational”. As if rational thought alone was some sort of super hero, and emotion the exaggerated all-powerful bad-guy our hero fortunately defeats in the end. Emotions are not the enemy. Maybe fear of them is? Maybe the panicked free fall that sometimes happens when we’re swamped by emotion, or “flooded”, or “triggered”, is the greater threat? We don’t make a point of educating children (in public schools, as part of structured curriculum) to deal with their emotions skillfully, such that those powerful feelings are an advantage, and something to value and appreciate. Isn’t that odd? Considering what a huge part of our experience of living our lives our emotions happen to be? We experience emotions long before we begin to reason skillfully, or think critically. We experience emotions without having to be educated to do so. Emotions require no training to have them. There they are. Being.

“Emotion and Reason” 18″ x 24″ acrylic w/ceramic and glow details, 2012

Emotions are part of who we are. Easy to take “personally”. Tempting to dismiss as lacking value (particularly negative emotions). Sometimes overwhelming. Sometimes at odds with what we “think”.

Let the rain fall. Feel the feelings. Acknowledge them. Be there for yourself. Continue to make the best decisions you are able to make. Continue to practice healthy self-care – and also to treat others well – without regard to the content of your emotional experience in the moment. I don’t say that as any sort of “telling you what to do” thing – I’m just saying, this approach seems healthy to me. I work on it. I fail more often than I’d like to. We live in a world where there are a lot of people so thoroughly uncomfortable with emotions – theirs or anyone else’s – that it can feel uncomfortable to be honest and open with our own emotional experience. Still, seems worth doing to make the attempt. I’m far happier as a human being, treating myself with consideration about my emotions, and really giving myself a moment to understand them, feel them honestly, and working to make actions and decisions dependent on a balance. Emotion and reason. Not either/or.

My coffee is cold. I’m rambling now. It’s time to begin again. The morning feels pleasant, and I feel merry. 🙂 This is a lovely place to begin.

I’m riding along on the train. It is autumn. It is a rainy day. There is no staccato spattering of drops on windows to be heard; I only hear the train. There is no musical chiming of droplets on vent covers on the roof overhead. There is only the sound of the train, and the voice of the man across the aisle speaking softly on a phone call. It’s emotionally neutral content, and the delivery is flat, uninflected, and unenthusiastic without being terse, impatient, or bored. It sounds like work, but the conversational context makes it clear the person he is speaking to is an intimate – a partner? A close friend? His son? There’s a question regarding questions. A comment about an attorney. A brief review of revenue, debt, priorities, and upcoming planned events. It is the least interesting thing going on, as the train rolls along, but it is what I hear. There are autumn leaves beyond the windows. Fall-foliaged forests fill the view as the train rolls on.

Autumn view in motion

I think about work. I think about life. I think about ethical matters and personal choices. I find rail travel excellent for self-reflection. No connectivity; posting this will have to wait.

Still rolling along

I enjoyed the trip for work. It was not “perfect”, and I didn’t expect it would be; sleeping in strange places is sometimes hard for me, and I spent most of the trip in unmanageable pain. It was quite productive, and that exceeded my expectations sufficiently to make the entire trip very worthwhile. It was not particularly recreational; the cognitive work (and in the pain I was in) was sufficient to exhaust me each day. Even the good restful hours of sleep I managed to get weren’t much help with the pain; the bed and pillows were uncomfortable (for me). The chairs in the office were as uncomfortable as office chairs in the office generally are. (In spite of careful consideration of employee needs, somehow most businesses manage to fill their spaces with uncomfortable seating, however much they spend on chairs.) At least, for sure the chairs are uncomfortable for me. To be brief? I got a lot done, and I hurt, and I’m eager to get back home to my Traveling Partner’s loving arms, charming smile, and a comfortable bed. 🙂

…Suddenly, I feel the fatigue of 4 nights of poor quality sleep. I glance at the time and fret for just a moment about making the drive home from the city; an interruption in rail service delayed the journey about 2 hours… I expected (and planned) to be home much earlier than I will be. I reflexively remind myself to drive safely…

…The weekend is almost here. The thought refreshes me for a moment…but real sleep, at home, sounds so good right now.

Checking my location on Maps, I amuse myself clicking on “directions” and find that it has a very accurate notion of where I am, and even suggests that – were I able to do so – taking the next train would get me there in about 2 hours 45 minutes. Pretty close to the estimate provided by the train operator, actually. I am grateful that I’m already on this train and not waiting on the next one. 😀

My meandering thoughts lead me to consider social media, and by the end of my musings, I’ve made the decision to shut down Instagram. My last social media account. Oh, I may not delete it, but I’ll empty it out, lock it down, update privacy and security to maximum strictness, and delete the app from my devices, for sure. I plan to do so on the last day of the year. I’m “over it”. 🙂 Getting rid of Facebook has been helpfully pleasant and a massive reduction in stress day-to-day. Yes, it has complicated staying in touch with far away friends – but it wasn’t easy (for me) before social media, and doesn’t take any more effort now than it would have taken then. I just have to make that effort. That’s on me. It would be nice to have a better option, but in the meantime, I’ll just have to use email and text. Time to get to work making sure my contacts and all their details are up to date.

So much to see along the journey.

The train joggles along roughly. Feels like “turbulence” on a plane. This complicates typing rather a lot. I guess I’ll set this aside for now. Later, I’ll begin again.

It’s hours past my coffee. Nearing the end of a busy day, actually, and even my bottle of water is empty. The rootbeer my Traveling Partner brought me at lunch time, long gone. The enthusiasm of the morning hours has given way to afternoon pain and fatigue. I’m alright. I’m barely bitching, just noticing.

Have I run out of words? Maybe, maybe not. Certainly, the cadence of my writing routine has changed rather a lot. It’s more a weekly thing these days.

…I’m so tired at the end of each day… I could write in the evenings, but rarely have the energy for it, cognitive or otherwise.

The font on this draft looks peculiarly small. I find myself wondering what combination of key strokes I may have struck to reduce the size of the font, or perhaps change the resolution of the window, or browser tab. It keeps me wondering, half-curious, half-annoyed. I struggle to let it go, which leads me to wonder what I’m really fretting over in the background… how could it be something this fucking dumb?? I shrug that off, make a sipping motion with my empty water bottle (I had already forgotten in was empty, and picking it up was reflexive).

I begin again.

…And then again.

…And still another time, never quite getting traction on my restless “monkey mind”. The weekend is almost here. Next week I’m out of town on business, and sort of excited about it. I’ll pack on the weekend, Sunday, maybe, fitting it in between the routine housekeeping tasks.

…I’m still super tickled by the robot vaccum my partner encouraged me to buy. It saves me so much work and expended energy, and yields such a lovely tidy result. Worth the expense. I honestly wasn’t sure it would be.

I guess I’m just admitting to myself that at least for now, I’m likely a weekend writer. You should know too, eh? Of course, knowing me, just saying so will kick my brain into high gear with all manner of inspiration for writing. It is, sometimes, the way of things to be contrary to plans or expectations. lol

The holidays are just ahead. I’m feeling the season this year, but also have no elaborate plans or grand expectations – just some cozy romantic connected time at home with my partner. Some holiday baking. Some holiday feasting. Some small amount of gift-wrapping. The tree – always the Giftmas tree. I wonder when I will become too old, or frail, or tired for that? Ever?

…I’m suddenly feel a blue moment of emotion wash over me. Loss. Loved ones no longer here to celebrate with. Family and friends far away, or out of touch. It is a poignant little moment of sorrow, painful, and personal, and shaped of tears and lingering heartache. I let the tears fall. I know this feeling is fleeting. It comes and goes with the times. Apparently now is a time for a few sad tears over severed connections. It’ll pass. It’ll pass sooner for having been felt, acknowledged, and given room to exist. I take a breath and let it go.

It’s already time to begin again.

I am enjoying a Monday off.

It is, in some locales, “Columbus Day”. Other places now celebrate Indigenous People’s Day, instead (“in addition to”, while appearing to be sort of a thing, doesn’t really make any sense; the ideas are very much an either/or sort of situation, from my perspective). I grew up with Columbus Day as the holiday being taught, and celebrated, and I recall early confusion regarding what, exactly, was actually being celebrated about the bloody land-grab that was the colonization of North America by European settlers. As an adult, I try to honor the day more honestly, educating myself about various “First Nation”, “Native American”, and indigenous cultures of the continent, and taking time to appreciate the moral and ethical complexities of this country I live in, in a more complete and frank way.

Today? I’m mostly just having a Monday off. Later I’ll meet with my therapist (it’s been awhile, and I think I need a “tune up”). Run an errand after that. Enjoy the day as a whole and complete thing, rich in its own complexities.

I’m thinking about seasons and cycles. Partly because some background portion of my mind is still nibbling at a work problem to do with “seasonality”, partly because the season has changed from summer to autumn, almost “overnight”. Certainly, it seemed to take only days from the last hot afternoon to the first chilly morning. Now, leaves are turning fall colors: gold, russet, flaming orange, deep reds, and moody purples. I enjoy the display, and the cooler days.

One day, recently, my Traveling Partner said to me (I was having a rough go of the moment we were standing in and feeling very sad and diminished), “If I could give you just one thing, it would be “hope”…”. This morning I feel hopeful. It’s nice. Pleasant. Hope tends to make the uncomfortable seem more endurable, and less significant. 🙂 I smile to myself and have another sip of my coffee; it has already gone quite cold, on this leisurely pleasant morning. I’m okay with that. It’s good coffee.

The holidays are approaching. I haven’t really “made a plan” as far as what we’re doing for us, here at home. It feels appropriate to have a relatively frugal holiday season – mostly because we have our basic needs met. By “frugal” I’m not meaning “privation” and going without – I just mean a holiday more about moments, warmth, and cookies, and less about retail endeavors (whether online or locally). I’m not any less excited at the prospect. I’ve got a good mixer, and a lot of excellent cookie recipes. lol 😀

I sip my coffee thoughtfully, realizing that during this pandemic, even the price of butter can result in holiday treats being quite costly, and thus, rather luxurious. What is luxury? I guess it could be the distinction between cookies made with on-sale margarine and discount chocolate-flavored chips instead of plugra butter and carefully selected varietal baking chocolate. Those small luxuries are often just as out of reach as the large ones… Struggle is real. At least today, this year, this life, this moment, I can make the choices with care, and enjoy the occasional luxury, eyes open, no shame. 🙂

I look at the time. Already? Time to begin again. 😀