Archives for category: Allegories

The map is not the world. The plan is not the experience. I’m chuckling to myself over my iced coffee, hastily prepared on my way out this morning. I woke at my usual time, but ahead of my alarm. I woke from a sound restful sleep that followed a deeply relaxing day of self-care and creativity.

… I woke thinking it was Monday, and that I was “running late”…

I rushed through my morning routine, quickly made coffee, and quietly left the house (very much in the usual way). I was heading to the office in dense traffic and a drenching rain before I remembered that I’m off work today (and tomorrow… and next Monday…), and that I’ve got very different plans than work. It is, however, raining quite hard, too hard for unfamiliar mountain roads in darkness, too hard for plein air painting with soft pastels, later.

…I hope the rain stops…

I head to a nearby familiar local park with a favorite trail to wait for daybreak, and (maybe) a break in the rain. I’ve got plans, sure, but I’ve also got backup plans (mostly amounting to alternate destinations). Rather than frivolously wasting fuel going all the way to one location then to another, I give myself some time to wake up properly, get my bearings, and wait for more daylight while I think things over. The whole point of this time off is to do with relaxing and indulging artistic inspiration. There’s no need to rush at all. No rules imposed on my decision making beyond being safe. No “timeliness requirements”, no “KPIs” or “SLAs”. If I wanted confirmation that I need this break from work, this morning’s somewhat panicked wake up certainly provided that!

It’s still quite early. The rain pauses long enough for a quiet walk in the pre-dawn gloom along the well-maintained partially lit trail. I gather my thoughts and consider the various locations I’d identified as being of particular interest this week. (Damn, yesterday was such a lovely day! Such a beautiful place!) I’m still inclined to head to the view points I’d selected (already a backup for my original plan, which is at high risk of snow and difficult to access under such conditions), but it’s not a route I care to drive in the dark on a rainy day. I sit with that thought awhile.

One point of view, and a pleasant recollection. Mt Hood in the distance, yesterday.

At some point, a spirit of adventure and eagerness to explore becomes a careless disregard of safety. At some point, a strict focus on safety becomes a fearful reluctance to experience something new. There’s a path between those choices. That’s the path I’m looking for, and hoping to find fulfillment, inspiration, and joy along the way. The “destination” may not actually be important to the experience. The journey is the destination.

I sip my coffee, grateful for the time I’ve taken for myself. Grateful to have recognized the need and acted upon it. Grateful for a partnership that supports and nurtures me. Grateful to see another sunrise. The sky slowly begins to lighten. Soon it will be time to begin again… I wonder where this path leads?

It’s already midmorning, still chilly. I’m warming up in the car between hiking and exploring trails, picnic tables, views and moments, and the planned purpose of this adventure; to paint. The honest underlying purpose has already been well met for this day; I have walked new trails, seen new views and new places, and experienced entirely new moments. My mind and my spirit feel refreshed and alive – so alive! It’s lovely. This is a beautiful place, and so early in the Spring (and the day) it is uncrowded.

A beautiful place for thinking and painting.

… There is a popular disc golf course adjacent to the picnic table I finally settled on, but it’s quite a chilly day, so only the most fanatic players are venturing onto the course this morning, and they are few, and no bother…

The sky is a soft featureless gray, at least for now. The river below the steep edge of the bank flows steadily past. It looks fast, deep, and cold. The geese bobbing along near the far shore don’t seem to mind at all. They call loudly to each other. Overhead a bird of prey surfs the air currents, circling a tall tree with a large nest near the top. I wonder if it’s theirs? Are there baby birds in the nest? I sit quietly, watching, listening, enjoying the moment grateful for the military experience of a lifetime ago that prompted me to bring spare socks. Cold wet feet are miserable. My feet are warm and dry, in spite of the muddy trails and occasional puddles.

One point of view.

There’s no reason to rush. I sit, warm, and filled with contentment and joy (and coffee). It’s a nice moment. I savor it. I am hoping the sun will break through for a little while, shortly. Regardless, I’ve found a nice spot for some painting and a chance to begin again.

Where does this path lead?

There’s a hint of daybreak on the eastern horizon. I’ll see the sunrise from this local trail near home, this morning. This is the first morning of several days off work, a whole week. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I’m in no hurry and have nowhere to be until later. It’s a nice feeling.

I sigh quietly, contentedly, and put my boots on. I savor the moments as they tick by, feeling both quite routine, and also infused with this feeling of “ease”. The morning is a chilly one, no great surprise; it is quite early in the Spring. Cold mornings followed by mild afternoons are common. It may rain.

I smile to myself, thinking about my garden. There are radishes and chard already coming up. The peas should sprout soon, too. I am impatient and excited about every small new thing in the garden. Spring has its own timing though, and won’t be rushed on my account. My smile persists. I enjoy Spring.

I take note of the Spring weather and consider my plans for each day in the week to come. I’ll definitely want to dress in layers. I’ll need the added warmth of a cozy fleece and a heavy sweater in the morning, but the afternoons may be far too warm for all that. I remind myself to get water to take with me, for making coffee, tea, or hot noodles for a quick bite. I’ll be going to some new places to hike and to paint. I’m eager, and I want to be prepared (and comfortable).

The sunrise begins, with hints of pale lemon yellow, and delicate apricot. My boots step onto the pavement next to the car with a soft crunch of unnoticed leaves left behind from the autumn. My thoughts are my own, and my stress falls away as I take the next step toward beginning again.

Whether or not whatever is causing our stress and anxiety is “real” – the stress itself, the actual anxiety is real. Strange how that works.

I sneeze suddenly and dart across the room to the corner where I’ve tucked my handbag, and scramble frantically through the contents looking for the travel pack of tissues I know is there somewhere. Damn it! Another sneeze, and now my nose is running like crazy and I dread finding myself covered in snot. I continue scrambling through the contents of my handbag a bit panicked, finally finding the tissues after I basically dump the contents onto the top of the printer in the corner. I return to my desk, feeling relieved, then my eye falls on an actual box of tissues right there on my damned desk, unnoticed, placed there by the cleaning crew over the weekend. I sigh, amused and frustrated, and astonished at the intensity of my absolutely pointless moment of stress. The stress was real. The cause of it wasn’t real at all; it was based on a misperception, a misunderstanding, an error in thinking.

“Anxiety” 10″ x 14″ – and she feels much bigger than that, generally.

…That’s often how stress and anxiety work; we respond to something in our thoughts or perceived experience without regard to the actual factual basis of the circumstances, and the stress builds so quickly we fail to “fact check” what’s going on around us…

I take a moment to let renewed calm sink in. I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s a new moment. I begin again.

My Traveling Partner had asked me (some time ago) to help with some paperwork. I have been dreading doing it, not because it’s actually all that big a deal, but because… stress. My own medical trauma and difficulties with some sorts of paperwork has been getting in the way of helping him out. He’s got his own challenges and anxiety to do with it, but it’s mostly been about the practical difficulties with keyboarding for long enough to get it done. He needs my help. I am happy to provide it – in the abstract – but the reality of the stress it has been causing me flared up yesterday afternoon, and I found myself in a moment of headache and pain and stressful tears over… mostly nothing. It’s just not that big a deal. It collided with my awareness of the upcoming busy Tuesday calendar (he has a couple of appointments to get to, and needs help getting to those) and my upcoming time off (which appears now to need to include Tuesday) and my headache, and I just… couldn’t get my head around all of it calmly. I found myself facing a huge feeling of pressure and imminent requirement to get it all done. Funny – not one detail of any of it is all that big a deal, so… why all the stress and agita? Why the anxiety? What the actual fuck, eh?

Humans being human. This morning it doesn’t look like all that big a deal. I look over the provided checklist for the paperwork, it’s not all that bothersome, actually. The appointments tomorrow? The Anxious Adventurer stepped up, agreeing to take his father to those appointments. I took it in stride this morning when it turned out I also have an appointment, scheduled in between my Traveling Partner’s appointments, and which would have prevented me from taking him to both of his, regardless. Busy day. The paperwork? It’s just paperwork. Needs to be done so it can join a queue of other paperwork submitted by other human beings to be considered by still other human beings at some considerably later date. Just not that big a deal, I guess. But the stress was real. That’s an important detail; managing that stress was its own thing, with its own needs and its own steps. A real concern, for a real human being – and I’m grateful that my Traveling Partner recognized the need ahead of my own acknowledgement of my stress (which was escalating and confounding my ability to reason), and helped me address it, enabling me to more easily self-soothe, and get myself back on track. No tantrum, no meltdown. The headache lingered through the evening, but even that wasn’t that big a deal once the stress had been managed. Stress complicates everything by clouding our comprehension and judgment, making everything look like a bigger deal than it may actually be.

This morning, I breathe, exhale, and relax. I slept well and deeply last night – I clearly needed the rest. I feel like my body (and mind) have finally made the adjustment to the change to the clocks (good grief I wish we’d stop doing that). I feel more settled and comfortable in my skin. Okay for most values of “okay”, and ready for a new day (and week). The Equinox is coming, and so is my time off. It’ll be nice to have a few relaxed days painting, drinking coffee, driving beautiful roads to lovely destinations, and doing some painting. It is time planned to be very low stress. I hope it actually turns out that way, although the future is not written, and I have no way to know what obstacles may be on the path ahead. lol It’s a very human experience.

I’d like to spend a little time in the garden, too. So much of my experience in life is based on what I’ve planted, what I tend to. I think awhile about my garden as a metaphor… there are weeds to pull, seedlings to nurture, and a harvest in the future. For now? It’s time to begin, again.

My garden is a special place for me – and a useful metaphor.

Some thoughts about things to do with being, becoming, and connecting with people (that I’ve mostly learned the hard way):

  • Chronic negativity isn’t “humor”, nor is it a useful way to connect.
  • An uncomfortable forced laugh is less engaging than authenticity, even when that means admitting “I don’t get it”.
  • Constantly complaining about common experiences doesn’t make a person sound cool, edgy, worldly or sophisticated.
  • I haven’t been everywhere. I haven’t done everything. I don’t know all there is to know about every topic of conversation.
  • It’s a safe bet that I have something to learn, and that listening may reveal things I don’t know.
  • A lot of things aren’t about me at all. Some experiences aren’t for me. I won’t be welcome in every space. This isn’t something that needs to be “fixed”.
  • Being annoying results in being alone. A lot. (And not missed even a little bit.) It’s just not fun to be around – definitely behavior to be avoided.
  • Consideration is often overlooked and very underrated, and when practiced consistently and sincerely can seem like a super power.
  • Manners still matter.
  • Intimidation is a “cheat code” in life, and although people around someone who practices intimidation may be willing to exploit that behavior, they don’t like the person who behaves that way, except maybe in spite of it.
  • Good character has lasting value and creates a stable foundation in relationships.
  • Some people are mired in their anger (it has become a practice more than an emotion), taking that personally is neither healthy nor helpful. Being that person is a poor choice with lasting consequences.
  • Hard decisions can slow me down. It’s worth considering other opinions and new options. Ultimately the choices I make are mine, and so are the consequences. It helps to ask questions and reflect on the answers.
  • Learning is a practice. Self-care is a practice. Listening is a practice. Consideration is a practice. Respect is a practice. Authenticity is a practice. It’s all practice. There are verbs involved. Work. Effort. Self-reflection. Commitment. Getting anywhere worth going happens in increments, over time.
  • We can choose change. We can choose to become the human being we most want to be. Ultimately we are responsible for who we are, and who we choose to become.

There are some seriously unpleasant, annoying people in the world. People who lack manners and consideration. People who are unkind, mean, petty, and (or) intimidating (sometimes for personal gain, sometimes purely as a matter of poor character). It’s worth doing my best not to be one of those people, and to do my best every day to be the person I most want to be. I’m not critizing you or telling you how to live, just sharing some of my own thoughts about my own life, things I’ve learned, things I’ve observed over time, things I still struggle with. Doing better today than I did yesterday isn’t easy; it takes work. Honest self-reflection. A willingness to change.

… Trust me, I’m not smug about any of this shit. I’m working my ass off to be the person I most want to be, to learn from my mistakes, and to do better today than I did yesterday – every day.

It was afternoon when I wrote those words. I was in pain. I slacked off some housekeeping in favor of self-care. Choices. Did it help? I don’t know. I got through another day, and held on to enough energy to cook a good meal. It was enough.

The darkness before dawn.

It’s a new day, now. I’m still in pain – I nearly always am. I’m not saying that to complain, and I’m not alone with that experience. Chronic pain is pretty common, actually. Learning to enjoy life in spite of it can be a pretty difficult journey (a lot of the really worthwhile things in life are difficult). My results vary.

I woke this morning already uncomfortable and in an unpleasant mood. No idea why, really. Maybe just dealing with pain has that result, sometimes. I feel cross with myself, with the world, with the seemingly endless list of shit that needs doing. I’m tired of all of it before I even get started…

I breathe, exhale, and relax, as I sit at the trailhead waiting for enough daylight to walk the trail easily. I don’t feel like walking in the dark this morning. I remind myself to let small shit go, and not to take things personally. I take my morning medication and sip my coffee and watch the moon set through the clouds.

When my mind wanders back to things that irritate me, I bring myself back to here, now, this moment. I make a point of practicing gratitude; it’s exceedingly hard for discontent and irritability to compete with gratitude, and I do have much to be grateful for. The internal resistance to letting my mood improve and allowing myself to enjoy a better experience is frustratingly persistent, but I keep at it. We become what we practice. It won’t always be easy to follow this path, but it is a choice available to me, and it’s the choice I make. My results vary, and there are verbs involved, but over time the outcome is predictably good.

Every day is a new beginning. My path is paved with my choices. The journey is the destination – and the clock is ticking. It’s time to begin again.