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Reflections

October 22, 2024 //
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I’ve always liked my appearance seen as a reflection in a window. I don’t know why this is, somehow it just seems to be “the best view” of myself, a little diluted, a little less specific somehow, softened a bit… less “real”. I almost always find myself quite beautiful as a reflection in a window. I don’t see myself quite that way in a mirror, or a photograph. Peculiar. Today is no different. I see my reflection and marvel at that woman, there, seen as if through the trees beyond the window, somehow younger than my years, and no hint of the tears in my eyes, or on my face.

…Crying in my office, again? What is this, the 00s??

Things seem harder than necessary lately. By “lately”, I mean most of the last year, honestly. It comes and goes. It’s been the worst since late February, since my Dear Friend died. Yeah, okay, so – grieving is hard. We don’t control how that goes, it just goes. I’m learning more about actual loneliness than I ever imagined I could. I wasn’t particularly prone to feelings of loneliness, before. I’m so very very prone to them now. With my Traveling Partner having the challenges he is, and the one woman I’d have felt free to discuss it with, without reservations, simply… gone… I feel so incredibly alone, now. I chastise myself for a moment; I could have done a better job of maintaining other cherished friendships and preserving more closeness with more dear friends than I have. I enjoy my solitude, and I’ve taken too much for granted. I still enjoy my solitude…but when I need someone, I’m often going to find myself going it alone nonetheless. Often. I’m not bitching – it’s not a bad life, and things could be so much worse. I’m just feeling my years, and feeling lonely as I face inevitable mortality, seeing some vague younger version of me reflected in a window, and wondering what the point of any of this actually is… yeesh. Grim. I ache with it. And also just with pain, physical pain. Fucking hell that just blows. Fuck pain.

…Oh, right… I maxed out all my pain management medication yesterday and here I am today, managing on less, and not hurting quite so much, but… now my mind is altered, and I’m feeling very blue, partly because I did so much yesterday to attempt to manage yesterday’s pain, and I’m paying the price emotionally, now. So… am I actually feeling “lonely”, or is this just “the down” from opiate pain management? Fuck. This shit is complicated. I simultaneously want very much to simply be entirely alone with this crap, and also very much miss someone to talk to about it – and about life, and how difficult some of this very human crap very much is. Too real. Fuck pain. Fuck drama. Fuck this particular moment, right here.

I put my head down on my desk and cry for awhile. This too will pass. Feelings are feelings, only that. Emotional weather. Small frustrations pile on top of other small frustrations and assorted inconveniences; it feels like a big pile. Heavy. Tears flow after other tears. Moments follow other moments. The clock is ticking. Eventually tears dry. Eventually, I can begin again.

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Categories Allegories, anhedonia, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, forgiveness, Frustration, grief, health, loneliness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships

A Monday Moment

September 16, 2024 //
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It’s dark and I am waiting for the sun. I’m sitting at the trailhead, paused between meditation and writing, some time before my walk. It’s a Monday morning, probably a fairly routine one… But… And?

I’m feeling a bit “off”, somehow. Vaguely irritable, only… maybe not? I don’t know. I’m in a strange discontented headspace, with nothing much to complain about, and nothing going on that actually seems “wrong”. I’m not “unhappy”… neither am I “happy”. I sigh heavily. The weekend wasn’t particularly restful or productive. I enjoyed it in the company of my Traveling Partner, and that was pretty nice. I very much feel that I should be looking back on it with much more gratitude and enthusiasm, but… this strange discontented mood has a pretty firm hold on me. Something like the sensation of wanting something I simply can’t have, ever, and knowing it while only half accepting it, but also not taking any steps to change that. Weird mood.

Soon enough I’ll have to “put my work face on”, and wholly adopt a certain professional positivity, and get the day going. Fine. I will and it’ll work out. I’m just…here… now, in this very different place. No idea why. I feel almost as though laying down for awhile and just… weeping… might be a more authentic use of my time, but it seems like a fairly childish and ineffective approach to take.

…I wonder if my walk will help…

I breathe, exhale, and relax, waiting for the sun. I’m not yet in any particular amount of pain. This could be a very pleasant moment. It isn’t quite. Am I, perhaps, reacting to my Traveling Partner’s (understandable) feelings of depression and negativity, as he confronts and deals with his emotions regarding potential long-term consequences of his (more severe than we knew at the time) injury, or becoming fused with that experience instead of living my own? It’s possible. We spent the weekend closely together, enjoying (or sometimes not enjoying) each other’s company.

… Maybe I didn’t get enough rest? Or didn’t get enough done…?

Another sigh breaks the silence. The sky slowly lightens as daybreak approaches. I think to myself that perhaps I could sleep a bit later in the morning now that the days are shorter, but I know it’s a wasted thought; I wake when I wake. It happens to be quite early. I do my best to make good use of the time.

… I resent feeling so stupidly fussy and irritable without good cause…

I pause my writing and my thoughts when my alarm reminds me to take my morning meds. I do that while noting sourly to myself that as things are going, I’ll be unlikely to ever retire, becoming one of those older folks who works for a living until my grave opens up to receive the last of my frail remains. G’damn that’s fucking depressing. I’ve wanted to retire since I entered the fucking workforce. I take a deep breath and let it go, along with the thought. The future is not written. I breathe, exhale, relax, and bring myself back to this moment, which, although characterized by this almost comically bleak mood, isn’t really all that bad, otherwise.

Be here, now.

I work at resetting my mood. I fail, and I try again. I look for different perspectives. I take a moment to really “hear myself”. Limited success, and I keep trying. I know “the way out is through” and I know I will become what I practice. I keep practicing. Change is, and eventually this mood will pass. Eventually, I’ll understand what gadfly is biting my metaphysical ass and be more easily able to do something about it. Slow going, this morning, and my irritability vexes me.

The first hint of a new day.

Daybreak comes, and with it a chance to begin again. I frown pointlessly at the sky, missing old friends and somehow also missing solitude (in spite of being literally alone in this moment). I grab my cane and get my stupid human ass out of the car and on my feet. It’s time to begin again.

… Maybe I can just walk it off…?

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Categories Allegories, anhedonia, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, Frustration, health, loneliness, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, The Art of Being, War and News of War

61 Lessons From One Lifetime

August 13, 2024 //
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I’ve spent the day relaxing in this quiet room, and providing my Traveling Partner with caregiving. It’s detail-oriented personal service work, providing care to this human being I love so deeply. Still, it has been a day with ample time for reflecting on life and love and what I have learned along the way.

Here are 61 lessons from my mortal lifetime thus far:

  1. There’s always something more to learn.
  2. Change is a constant.
  3. Zest for life is closely tied to experiences of wonder and awe.
  4. Self-care matters.
  5. Meditation is an effective practice.
  6. We become what we practice.
  7. We each have the power to define success for ourself.
  8. Setting boundaries is a self-care practice.
  9. Our values are not what we say they are; they are what we live and practice.
  10. Taking the time to do something well is reliably more efficient than having to do it more than once.
  11. Anxiety is a liar.
  12. Chasing happiness does not result in greater happiness.
  13. Lust is mostly a matter of biology.
  14. Savoring life’s small joys and making time for gratitude builds emotional resilience.
  15. Human primates operate “emotion first”.
  16. Our quality of life is more dependent on the quality of our relationships than the size of our paychecks.
  17. Assumptions are not facts.
  18. Expectations are not facts.
  19. Opinions are not facts.
  20. Beliefs are not facts.
  21. The catchiness of a slogan has no bearing on its truth or usefulness.
  22. Very few of life’s stressful moments have lasting impact.
  23. I probably need to drink more water.
  24. “Wealth” is relative.
  25. The person who throws the punch doesn’t get to decide whether it hurt.
  26. We are each having our own experience.
  27. A lot of the crap that bothers us most is shit we totally made up in our own heads that has no actual basis in reality.
  28. Self-reflection can help develop perspective.
  29. Rumination can be really damaging, and tends to limit perspective.
  30. The difference between rumination and self-reflection can be subtle.
  31. Emotional intelligence has real-world value.
  32. Getting enough rest is as important as drinking water, eating healthy food, and exercise.
  33. Solitude can be rich, beautiful, satisfying, and nurturing.
  34. Few people recognize their own confrontational, hostile, angry, or escalated tone of voice.
  35. Forgiving someone is a thing we do for ourself, not for the person being forgiven.
  36. People notice when someone isn’t paying attention.
  37. Distracted driving is potentially lethal.
  38. What we think we understand about human behavior isn’t reliably accurate, and can’t be assumed to apply to all people in every circumstance. It doesn’t.
  39. People are people.
  40. We’re all in this together.
  41. The journey is the destination.
  42. Your lived experience is yours. My lived experience is not yours.
  43. How you behave when you think no one is watching will tell you what your values truly are.
  44. Rationalizing poor behavior doesn’t make the behavior any better.
  45. We feel our own pain the most.
  46. Our ability to understand the world is limited by our perspective.
  47. Being a dick to people is a poor practice with predictably poor outcomes.
  48. Thriving and surviving are two very different experiences.
  49. Reading is an incredibly useful skill, the benefits of which are multiplied by enjoying it.
  50. Art is a way of expressing the things we don’t have words for.
  51. Language functions by agreement.
  52. Carefully defining the terms in a discussion prevents a lot of arguments and misunderstandings.
  53. Apologizing without sincere contrition isn’t really an apology.
  54. Apologizing while making excuses for how the offense is justified, understandable, or must be overlooked isn’t really an apology.
  55. An effective apology is 100% focused on the person hurt and how they were affected, and 0% about how the offender feels about it.
  56. Listening deeply is a powerful relationship building tool which takes time, practice, and effort to develop.
  57. Hijacking a conversation to talk about yourself instead is rude.
  58. Waiting for a turn to talk while someone else is talking is rude.
  59. Interrupting someone while they are speaking is rude
  60. Manners and civility are key to quality of life and cultured society.
  61. Life is worth living.

It’s not science. These are things I’ve learned myself, over a lifetime. I’m not even saying these observations and learnings are “all there is” (what would you add?)… these are just a few things I’ve learned that continue to serve me well.

It’s your journey, up ahead. I’m over here walking my own path. May your path be smooth and the way ahead illuminated.

Every sunrise is a chance to begin again.
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Categories anger, anhedonia, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, grief, inspiration, Love, meditation, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being, Words

No Words

July 20, 2024 //
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Well… Not literally “no words”…cuz here I am, eh? Words. I’ve got a fair few of these fuckers (words) laying about. May as well use them…but… This morning I’ve nothing much to say, really.

… I’m tired, and there’s this damned headache and this ringing in my ears…

“Anhedonia”. Now there’s a fucking word. Anhedonia is more or less simply a loss of delight, of interest, of the will to engage with pleasant and interesting things. It’s not “boredom”, and it most definitely is a “mental health issue”. Sometimes it’s simply that circumstances grind me down until I just fucking give up on a “just don’t give a shit” level that transcends even irritation, leaving me without the will to resist or try to overcome it at all. Here I am this morning.

… I’m just that tired, cognitively and emotionally…

Caregiving is hard work, and I’m learning that a great deal of the work involved is in the form of emotional labor. I have profound respect for people who are caregiving a loved one for years. I’ve only been doing it for months. It’s fucking hard, and it’s draining. 8 days until my coastal getaway, and I definitely need it, but… I’ll also need to really get away from the emotional labor of caregiving to get the rest I need so badly. Most of the brief opportunities for downtime since my Traveling Partner’s injury haven’t given me the rest I really needed, because I failed to leave the emotional labor behind, and returned home to still more. I didn’t understand that I needed to put that down, and didn’t understand what a large portion of the caregiving it really is. (I’m pretty new to taking on a caregiving role, and have never had a child.) I failed myself in this way, and by extension ended up also failing my Traveling Partner – in two ways.

1. I failed my Traveling Partner by not taking care of myself sufficiently well to ensure I am up to the challenges and requirements of caregiving over time. It’s an endurance race, not a sprint.

2. I failed my Traveling Partner by not setting clear boundaries with regard to emotional labor generally, or communicating clearly when the burden is too great for my limited human capacity.

I can see how these are both also failures of self-care, too. No wonder I’m fucking exhausted.

This morning I got to the trailhead and just sat in my car weeping quietly for some unmeasured amount of time. I really didn’t feel like walking, at all. Anhedonia is a difficult challenge to overcome, but eventually I got out of the car and trudged down the trail irritably. The rising sun only annoyed me and my sour mood followed me down the trail. I spitefully didn’t stop to sit and write in my preferred location, choosing instead to annoy myself by sitting uncomfortably elsewhere. (Good grief, really?! Fucking stupid.)

I’m sitting. Writing. Feeling irritable because my back aches, my head aches, my tinnitus is loud, and my Traveling Partner is injured. From the perspective of this moment it feels very much that there is “no end in sight”, and despair threatens to rear its head. I sigh deeply, and just let the unwanted tears fall.

This shit is hard.

…It could all be so much worse…

This shit is hard.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. Eventually, I even stop crying, and even mostly stop feeling overcome by anhedonia. I clearly need to get some downtime, some relief, a real break… Which makes me feel like an asshole; my Traveling Partner gets no break from being injured and in pain and needing my help. Fuck.

… Did I mention that this shit is hard?

I’m okay for most values of okay. My Traveling Partner is, too. He’s got surgery scheduled. This is, thankfully, a temporary situation, and we’ve got the additional help of the Anxious Adventurer now (which is greatly appreciated and very much needed). I make a point to reset my perspective, my expectations, and my awareness. It’s not helpful to become mired in pain – particularly someone else’s, and especially when I’ve also got to manage my own. It’s hard, sure, but it truly could be worse, and in some respects it isn’t even as bad as it sometimes feels. We’re fortunate: I’m employed, we have health insurance, we’ve got help, and this isn’t a terminal health issue.

If I were better at this caregiving stuff, I might be more easily able to lift my Traveling Partner from his pain-focused funk, when he gets stuck there. I sit with that thought for a few minutes. I think about the many years of therapy and skilled mental health care I’ve been fortunate to receive. I think about mindfulness practices, meditation, and CBT.

… I remind myself that I can’t do the verbs for anyone else, and that we’ve each got to walk our own hard mile…

I breathe, exhale, and relax. Sometimes the best thing I can do to care for my partner is to care for myself. I think about the day ahead, and the things I’d like to get done. I think about my partner, and what he may need today, and consider how best to be there for him.

It’s a new day. The sun is warm on my back. I hear voices coming down the trail. It’s time to begin again…

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Categories Allegories, anhedonia, Anxiety, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, grief, health, loneliness, Love, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being

Time is Short

June 15, 2024 //
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This mortal lifetime is a fleeting and all too brief experience. We haven’t yet defeated aging or death, and we inevitably face both those experiences in turn… if we’re fortunate enough to enjoy some longevity in the first place.

I’m not meaning to sound grim, just putting a bit of self-reflection and perspective into my morning. It just seems to me that there is no time for petty bullshit, taking things personally, or chronic negativity. We’re human, though  and pettiness, bullshit, negativity, and taking things personally often seem to be default settings for human primates. It’s unfortunate. Life is filled with wonder and potential joy and delight, and when we give ourselves the opportunity to experience those qualities, they have incredible potential to lift us up.

…We become what we practice…

I often wonder what keeps some people so invested in unpleasantness and negativity, when it is possible to choose differently? I’m forced to reflect on my own journey; it’s the one I know best. It wasn’t that long ago that I took a lot of shit personally (that wasn’t, at all). I was a chronically pessimistic, cynical, fairly miserable traumatized human being disappointed with life, feeling weighed down by futility and despair, struggling to find any relief, purpose, or joy. I began making other choices, setting off on this profoundly healing journey some 14 years ago, around the time I reconnected with my (now) Traveling Partner. Shortly before then, actually, but at the time I didn’t really understand the nature of the journey ahead, nor where it could lead me (I was only beginning to understand the necessity and ask the important questions).

Like a road trip without a map, through fog.

…If I had known how far I would need to go, how long the journey ahead would be, and how much work, study, and will would be required, I doubt I would have understood that I had it in me to undertake it at all, and I might have given up on myself (I almost did)…

I’m just saying that it is possible to get from “there” to “here”, and it has been worthwhile a hundred times over to make the journey. So worth it.

I’ve read books and studied mindfulness and relevant cognitive research and developments in neuroscience. I’ve given thought to the advice and recommendations of friends, family, lovers, colleagues, and mental health professionals, and taken so many of their suggestions for a test drive, looking for changes that could improve my experience. I’ve pulled myself back from the precipice of despair a thousand times. I’ve practiced a multitude of practices, adopting some as permanent features of the way I live (meditation, non-attachment, and “taking in the good” being among those). I’ve pursued honest self-reflection and committed to better self-care. I’ve sought (and found) perspective, and embraced change. I’ve begun to thrive in life, instead of merely surviving it.

…Powerful stuff…

I’m sitting here with my thoughts on a rather stormy morning as summer approaches, watching the clouds drift by. The sun is up. I’ve got this trail to myself. It’s a pleasant moment and I am grateful to have this quiet solitary time.

I can only walk my own path.

I’m a bit frustrated by one thing as I sit with my thoughts… It’s this; I can find success and joy in life through all the means I’ve named, and I can share all that with you here, and with people dear to me, but I can’t make anyone else follow this (or a similar) path. We’re each having our own experience. I can’t actually make someone else abandon their negativity or pettiness. I can’t make someone embrace joy, or cultivate contentment. I can’t do the work for someone else or even convince them of the necessity or likely improvement that could follow. We have to walk our own hard mile. I had to walk mine, and I walk it even now. You have to walk yours, and the consequences of your actions (and your words) are yours to bear.

I sit with my thoughts awhile longer. It’s a lovely morning. A blue jay hops about in the weeds near my feet. The large rock beside the trail that I’m sitting on is firm beneath me. I feel grounded and comfortable in my skin, in spite of the pain I’m in. I feel sure of my path, and my worthiness to walk it. I am grateful for the many opportunities I have had to grow and change and begin again. Learning to forgive myself has been hard. Learning to forgive others has been harder. Both have been worthwhile and I am less burdened thereby.

This very human experience is an interesting and complicated thing, and I often wonder what the real purpose of it is, or whether it has one at all.

Maybe it’s enough to enjoy the journey?

There is a lot to forgive in one lifetime, but there’s also a lot to enjoy, and a lot to celebrate.  The storm clouds regroup, and the sky darkens. Rain drops begin to spatter the trail and the blue jay has flown away. I stand and stretch, and get ready to head back to the car. It’s time to begin again.

…Where does your path lead? Is that where you really want to go? The clock is ticking; choose wisely.

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Categories Allegories, anger, anhedonia, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, grief, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Spring, Summer, The Art of Being, War and News of War, Words
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