Archives for category: forgiveness

Language is funny stuff. I sit here amusing myself with rephrasing passive-aggressive posts in my feed, and vague-booking posts, and always/never posts… basically just reading posts and rewriting them in my head to be clearer (to me) and more frank and… more honest.

Seriously, though, what’s with the bullshit that fills up our thoughts and clutters our minds? “I always…”, “you never…”, “you always…”, “I never…” We could just start and end right there with that one. Those are not just wild exaggerations (and for my own amusement, I’ll say “they always are”, which is likely only mostly true) – they are the sort of subtle lies that set us up for failure.

“Can’t” versus “Haven’t”.

“Always” and “never”.

“Have to” and “Can’t”

“No one ever talks about…” (seriously with that foolishness?)

We put our experiences in context, but rather unfortunately I suspect, we own not only our experience, not only our “content”, but also our context – which we get to craft ourselves from whatever notions and moments we think make sense together. lol We’re not super skilled at it, and fill our heads with narratives about good guys and bad guys, and us versus them, and walls and borders and restrictions… still sucking at real boundary-setting, still sucking at being our authentic selves, still sucking at honest self-reflection…

…Still sucking at accepting and encouraging the varying experiences of others, which differ from our own…

…And we wonder why our lives are filled with drama? LOL Omfg – because we create our experience specifically that way!ย 

We (and by we, I specifically mean you and I) can do better. We can for sure do differently. We have choices.

Choose your words with care. You aren’t only communicating to others, you are setting a tone for yourself, crafting the narrative of your life that you may share with others intending to communicate something about yourself, and literally creating your own understanding of the world. I’m saying your words matter, specifically for that reason.

Treat your own sanity well, specifically by practicing using skillfully frank, and yes also kind, language with and to yourself. Stop trying to “sell it” and just be clear.

I know, I know, this is me saying this, and you know I love some words… Just, …choose them as you would anything else that really really matters. ๐Ÿ™‚ Because they do.

Ready? It’s time to begin again. ๐Ÿ˜€

It is a rainy night. The cars make that certain specific shhh-shhh that they do when it is a rainy night. I listen to it fall. I listen to the drips cascading leaf to leaf on the yellowing big-leaf maple leaves. I notice the plonkย  ย plonkย  ย of large splashes dropping to the side of an empty decorative flower-pot made of thin sheet metal. I don’t recall leaving it lay there, purposeless. I enjoy the sound. The wind chime stirs, and the tinkle and soft tones mix in the breeze with the sound of the cars on the too busy street. Night fell. I hadn’t noticed until now, really. I’ve been too busy.

Too busy.

Shit. Right. I gotta do something about that. ๐Ÿ™‚ I’m glad the weekend is here. I’ll use it to begin again.

I woke from a deep sleep, and strange dreams of exes still hung up on me, and years of random email pings from people who, over time, had become virtual strangers. I followed my dreams with an utterly routine morning, until I sat down to write. There was too much to process, really, and I so don’t feel like “dealing with exes” first thing in the morning… so… I didn’t. ๐Ÿ˜‰

There are other things to do. Other things to consider. Other things to enjoy. I am my own cartographer on this interesting journey… and, at least for today, I don’t plan to make a detour for something – or someone – I’ve already left behind. There’s no time for that. ๐Ÿ™‚

foggy

A foggy morning as a metaphor for our potential to begin again, and why not? It almost looks as if I could just remake everything beyond the fog… ๐Ÿ™‚ It’s a good day for whimsy, and new beginnings.

Seems a routine day so far – except for the fog beyond the windows. It looks very much like I can begin all this again, and continue to remake my life in my own image. I’ve walked on from so much, and I am content to leave it behind. ๐Ÿ˜€

Well then.

I did get safely home. I did not rant at cars the whole way or fill the entire universe with vile invective. I did not. The one momentary loss of reserve happened to occur while I was on the phone with my Traveling Partner, as I was making a feeble attempt to disregard the guy ahead of me driving 10 mph in a 30 mph zone, during rush hour traffic, with cars bumper to bumper behind me – and blue skies and open road ahead of him. Well, shit. That was frustrating. It’s an everyday practice now; can I get from point A to point B, driving a car in traffic, without losing my cool? I generally can, these days. Now and then, I’m just… astonished to the point of lost perspective that people can be such shitty drivers so much of the time. I mean, seriously? What the hell. Safety first, definitely, but omg, then? Please also actually just drive your damned car like you plan to get somewhere. lol

…On the other hand? I set myself up for it today. I went in to work early. I worked without taking breaks. I failed to have a second cup of coffee when I got to my desk. I think I had a bite of lunch…but I clearly did so mindlessly; I don’t remember it at all. I hear it was a great lunch at the office today… I almost certainly had something… By the time I got into afternoon traffic, great dark storm clouds were blotting out the sinking sun, it was much later than I’d have left under other circumstances. I had a headache, and my blood sugar was almost certainly low. The other drivers weren’t the only shitty drivers on the road; my own judgment was surely impaired by my approach to the task, as I was rushing toward my destination, attempting to “beat my blood sugar home”.

(…Um… That’s not how that works.)

I was doing a fairly shitty job of really adulting today… but I was highly productive. For my employer. At the expense of my well-being. Which does not remotely achieve the goal and purpose of working for a living. See that? That’s a word. Words matter. They convey meaning.

I got safely home – even found my lost perspective shortly after I got off the (hands-free) phone call with my partner, who made a point to keep it super short (even though we enjoy talking). It was no doubt evident I was not at my best. He’s sharp like that. Aware of my mood. Aware of my… awareness. ๐Ÿ™‚ First thing in the door, once I arrived home, I heated up some soup, and took care of the thing most likely to drive volatility at that point, my blood sugar. I took time to have a big glass of water. I took time to reeeeeeally stretch, and then relax. I went out onto the deck and inhaled the rain fresh air, and watched the storm clouds moving in for more. I sat down to tackle an errand I’d have been in no shape for, if I hadn’t managed my self-care, and then re-assessed the evening.

I rushed off without writing this morning, and didn’t even notice. In the settling gloom of twilight, arriving home rain scented to a stress-free space, I started seeing the thread, how the day developed from that first rushed moment, and never, ever, let up, not even once. It wasn’t a bad day. It was, in fact, generally speaking, a good day – pocked with challenging moments that weren’t even actually bad, just very busy. I’m tired. Cognitively fatigued, but brain still buzzing with busy-ness. If I don’t hop down off this mental treadmill, there won’t be any sleep for me tonight, and the work day will start even earlier tomorrow, and I’ll be short-tempered, error-prone, and lacking in both perspective and sense of humor. Get me tired enough, pile on a few more days, and I fall back on routine and process to keep me going to the point that any deviation at all holds the potential to see me really losing my perspective and ability to reason clearly. So… “Let’s have none of that…” I think at myself. Amused by the notion that just throwing words at the problem could solve anything. This? This needs action. Action… not words. Action …words? Action words.

Verbs.

Fucking verbs again. Damn it. I’m tired and silly. I’ve given all of what I had, today, to my employer, and really there’s nothing much left for me. Acknowledging it is enough to fill my eyes with tears, and my lip trembles. I feel like a child… Then, I wonder what I think I mean by that?

I keep sipping on my soup. It’s warm and comforting. Filling. Soothing. Tears never quite come; I’m finally taking care of this person I say matters to me that I’ve been fairly literally abusing all damned day. I let myself have that moment of self-directed anger. I really “listen” to the frustration and, yes, even “hurt feelings” that result from just treating myself like dirt all day. In my mind, I imagine a toddler storming at a parent, raging, stomping, “I’m mad at you!!”.

…”Yeah, kid,” I think back at myself, “I’m mad at me, too. I can do better. I’m sorry.” My eyes fill again briefly, and the moment passes. I feel myself pout a bit mentally, when it hits me… and I hear that hurt child-like inner voice again, “you didn’t leave any time at all for cartoons”.

Shit. That does suck.

I glance at the time. I really do need to slow things down, a lot, or I won’t sleep. I put aside the notion of doing more, other, stuff. I dim the lights quite a lot. Yoga, meditation, and an early night will have to do this evening. It’s a poor choice to stare at an illuminated screen for any length of time, this late, all wound up this way. I take a few moments to medicate, and get ready to head for my meditation cushion.

It’s time to hit the reset button. Tomorrow I can begin again. ๐Ÿ™‚

It’s probably true for all of us, that we’d like to understand the world, our lives, the lives of others, much more than we really do – or ever could. We spend tons of time on “human interest stories” and posts and articles about other people’s lives and circumstances, seeking greater understanding of the human experience (or salacious titillation, which is, frankly, an unpleasant impulse ideally not indulged). It’s problematic, because, too often, it leads to becoming heavily emotionally invested in experiences that are not actually our own. Humans are fairly weird primates. lol

Our technology makes it very easy to “watch from afar”, distant connections, celebrities, neighbors, and even X’s and people who have walked on from where we now stand, making it clear they want no part of our bullshit any longer. Some people yield to that temptation, becoming obsessed with some other human to the detriment of their everyday lives. That’s mostly just sort of sad, really, I don’t know what to say about that… Let it go? Live life? Invest in what is actually yours? Enjoy or change what is within your own reach? Knock that dumb shit off? (Well, that last one there seems a bit rude, and insensitive, but… yeah; you don’t really have time for that kind of foolishness, we are mortal, life is finite, and there’s other shit to do. lol)

I know one or two folks who, even years later, still obsess about an ex to the point of madness. It’s hard to watch. I can’t call them “friends” of mine, to be clear; they don’t have time for friendship, they are far too busy with clinging, or plotting revenge, or grieving endlessly, to enjoy friendship, or even the simple pleasures of living life. It’s a weird place to spend one’s time, I think, but then again – I’ve chosen a different path. We each walk our own mile, paved with our own choices. We become what we practice, and are, unavoidably, generally speaking, one hundred percent a creature of our own making.

Our shittiest behavior becomes part of who weย are. We will be recognized and described by those behaviors and choices.

Think about that. You are who you choose to be. You become whatever you choose to practice being. No kidding, even our worst “mistakes” as people are only “mistakes” that first time; once we’re called on our bullshit and told that our words or actions are objectionable, and we continue to make that choice? Now that shit is “on purpose”, even if not specifically willfully deliberate in the moment – unless of course we have some sort of mental illness, cognitive limitation, or challenge in life that specifically limits our rational agency and free will. What I’m saying is – we make choices. A lot of choices. Our choices are part of who we are, and say a lot about our character.

Choose wisely. The world is watching.

…Oh hey, just note; you’re going to fuck some shit up and make some terrible choices in life. It’s a human thing. Begin again. Do better. Keep practicing. It’s a long journey from here, wherever “here” is, to becoming the human being you most want to be… and fucking hell, there’s no map.

Ready? However bad things feel right now? It’s okay to begin again. ๐Ÿ™‚