Archives for category: forgiveness

Do more of that. No kidding. If you’ve something that gives you joy, delights you, provides you with comfort, satisfies you, and lights you up from within – do more of that. I’m just saying… if it makes you happy, do that. Or not. You can choose misery if you’re more comfortable with it…

…Maybe take your chances on something that feels good in a healthy way…?

I’m sitting here thinking about lessons learned, what feels good, what brings me joy, and the temptations in life that seem like they bring me joy – but come at a high cost. (Looking your way, gummy candy!) In this particular moment, I’m giving some thought to my health, and the consequences of snacking on goblin treats as the Hallowe’en holiday approached. It really wasn’t good for me. Quite a reminder, though, and I am making a point to not do that now, and to drink more water, and thinking ahead to a walk later; this is a fragile vessel, and one mortal life seems barely enough for all the things I’d still like to do. I can do a better job at taking care of this meat sack while I reside in it. lol

Making good choices requires both discernment between what merely feels good in the moment and those things that have more lasting (healthy) value – and being willing to make the hard choice. Sometimes it’s hard. Sometimes I need help. You, too? There’s real value in sharing the journey when it’s difficult. I think about my Traveling Partner, and his willingness to share his own struggles. He patiently tells me (again) when I drift toward unhealthy meals, reminds me what he likes, what works, what leaves us both feeling healthy and nourished. (Damn, dinner last night was so good!) I sit with my thoughts awhile, feeling loved. I’m fortunate to have found in him a friend as well as a lover. He’s not perfect – neither of us is, and we’re more alike than not, which is weird in spots. lol

…A wave of subtle sadness and nostalgia washes over me as the day breaks to a gray cloudy sky. I let my playlist put my feelings into words. It’s already time to begin again.

It’s late in the afternoon, on a Sunday… one might even call it “early evening”. The light is beginning to fade after a sunny Autumn day. I’m home alone – a rare treat – and enjoying a few minutes with my feet up. I’d undertaken what seemed to be a pleasant afternoon of … “crafting”? I guess that’s a good word for it… I’ve got our Cricut moved into the studio to get started on holiday cards… once I learn the machine. My Traveling Partner had spent a couple days “tuning up” the 3D printer, and moments before he left for a thing he’s attending this evening, he tempted me to start a couple 3D prints “if I want to”. Let’s be clear; I don’t know 3D printing. I have barely mastered the basics of clicking the right buttons to start a print, how to keep an eye on the machine remotely, and how to gently remove a completed print and prepare the bed for the next one. So… my thoughts that I’d “make a couple cards”, finish the book I’m reading, and maybe watch a couple videos… yeah. Turned out those were some grand fucking plans even before the addition of a little 3D printing. LOL

…I slowed down, took things a thing at a time, and stayed patient with myself…

I spent some time trouble-shooting the blue tooth connection for the Cricut. This is a cool little cutting machine that is sometimes dismissed as a crafter’s tool, or something “easy”. I chuckled to myself at my own frustration; it’s too easy to assume something is easy because it’s small and cute and manageable-seeming. The Cricut Explore Air 2 sitting in my studio is a proper little CNC machine, just small, light-weight, and purpose-built for some craft-y things. It’s still a legit computer-controlled cutting machine. The software is still relatively complex, and there’s a learning curve. I am embracing the challenges, watching tutorials, trying things out. I’ve got a lot to learn.

Like a lot of things, it’s not as easy at it looks. lol

Similarly, the 3D printer is pretty amazing. I’m printing a selection of fun (flat) snowflakes that will become ornaments… maybe. LOL Here, too, there is a lot to learn before I can ever say I “know how to use the 3D printer”. So much to learn. The machine. The software.

It’s a snowflake. I needed the win. lol

…It’s tempting to oscillate between “fuck this” levels of frustration and foolish assumptions about how “easy” any this will be, with either of these machines… like it or not; there’s plenty to learn, and I am a long long way from “mastery”. I’m not even fighting it. I make mistakes, seek to understand where I went wrong, and go back to the tutorials. Distractions – even simple things like the laundry, or a delivery, or the other fucking machine, throw me off and it’s back to the beginning. Having a brain injury slows me down learning new things. I do my best to account for that. My original plan focused on just one of these machines; it would have been wise to stay on that path. LOL I planned wisely, and executed poorly.

…I got excited about new things and cool machines…

Still… I did get the Cricut connected (to my laptop). I am actually printing snowflakes on the 3D printer. I have made my first cuts with the Cricut (and promptly tossed those into the trashcan, because I definitely messed them up completely with commonplace dumb-ass-ery, and distractions) and tried a more successful piece of work using the Cricut to draw a complicated design onto card stock using fun gel pens, which satisfied me more than it probably should, since it is also … not quite right. lol

…And I’m almost done with the laundry…

It’s a good afternoon. Educational. Fun. Rewarding. Relaxing. Hilarious. None of my mistakes have done any damage or any harm, and the worst of them has resulted only in a bit of wasted craft material. The price I am paying for this “seminar” is being paid in wasted paper and well-spent time. lol I’m enjoying myself.

Now, it’s time for a cup of tea, and some quiet time letting what I’ve learned seep into my recollection for later. Soon enough it’ll be time to begin again. 😀

I had a most peculiar dream last night.

I was walking a dark trail before dawn on a foggy misty morning and came upon a solitary woman, also walking. As she approached me in the mist, I recognized her stride and her visage; she appeared to me to be some timeless other version of myself. She walked easily, neither young nor aged. Her steps were as confident as if it were fully daylight, relaxed and easy. She wore faded denim jeans that fit her well , and a knee length wool coat which she wore open, over a white cotton blouse. She wasn’t lean or heavyset, but wore womanly curves over muscle I knew must be there; she radiated strength. In fact, she had a subtle glow, as if illuminated from within.

As we approached each other on the path she looked me over. No laugh lines defined her expression, no frown lines distorted her gaze. She had a certain eternal seeming calm, marred by a slightly world-weary smile, barely hinted at, and a tired look in her eyes. She halted her progress and took an easy seat on a fence rail as I neared her, watching me.

As I drew closer, I realized she was carrying a thermos of something steaming hot, though I hadn’t seen it in her hand before. She nodded at me and extended the other hand in my direction; a paper coffee cup. “Coffee?” She asked in a voice very much familiar to me. I accepted the offer silently. It didn’t seem the time to speak.

We sat side by side on the fence rail in the predawn mist. She set down the thermos, or so I figured must have been the case, and began picking out a poignant tune on a guitar I hadn’t noticed her carrying. “Destination”, I said. “You know it?”, she asked without looking up. “The Church”, I replied, “1988?” I wondered out loud. She smiled back and played on, humming softly as if trying to remember something. “… It’s not a religion, it’s just a technique…” she sang, softly, looking into my eyes. She played on, as we sat waiting for the dawn.

The song, and my memories, unfolded as the sky began to lighten ever so slightly. Shapes in the mist began to be more defined. “It’s like the theme from Mahogany, isn’t it?” she asked with a smile, “an important question wants an answer.” I turned to answer her…

In the pale gray mist of dawn, I sat alone on a fence rail, chilly fingers jammed into the pockets of my faded denim jeans. The world was silent around me. I listened to the music in my head and slow tears slid down my face.

I woke from a sound sleep and my strange dream when the room brightened with my silent alarm. It was morning. Not yet dawn. I dressed and headed out for a walk on a misty foggy morning, without a clear destination, alone with my thoughts. .

I woke to my silent alarm, but only once the lights were at full brightness. I got up, dressed quietly and managed to leave the house without making any loud or abrupt noises, hoping my Traveling Partner slept through my departure. He needs the sleep after a restless night, I know.

Morning mist, early walk.

I enjoyed a nice walk along a partially lit trail which meanders through oak groves and vineyards, returning to the car before ever hearing from my partner that he has started his day. I stretch and do some yoga. I take time to meditate. I double check that I am on time with my morning meds.

I look at the time and make a note that I will need to return home by 09:00, regardless, to begin the workday, but I still had some time… So, I decided to write a bit. I chuckle to myself; it would be easier on my laptop, which is specifically portable for exactly this sort of thing. lol I should perhaps begin bringing it along in the morning…

… So far a pleasant morning. I slept okay, aside from being confronted crossly by my partner when he found himself wakeful, struggling to breathe comfortably, and wondering what was up with me, and whether I might be the cause of his discomfort. I eventually got back to sleep. I was also awake, having been awakened when my mask seal broke (I probably turned over awkwardly) and needed to remove and reposition it. Correlation is not causation, but perhaps my sudden movement to remove my mask woke him? Or the sound of air leaking past my cheek? I don’t know. Well. Shit. At least it’s not my snoring keeping him from sleeping.

I keep my eye on the time, hoping that he wakes up before I come home; I just don’t want to be the thing that wakes him up, this morning. I’m in quite a bit of pain, and a little grumpy myself as a result, and I know how cranky he can be when he doesn’t sleep well. I don’t feel like dealing with any of that, just want to get on with the day gently and enjoy a good cup of coffee with my Traveling Partner before work…

… Or just work, if he’s not in that place himself…

Sometimes adulting is hard, and inconvenient. Sometimes I’ve just got to begin again and do my best to do better. 🙂

I’m sipping lukewarm too-strong less than ideally good office coffee and looking out the windows onto a rainy day, in Autumn, in “the city”. It could be any city. There are trees along the sidewalks, green summer foliage has begun turning to shades of gold, amber, and red. The soggy gray sky obscures the distant hills and creates silvery featureless reflections on office buildings beyond the windows. I’m thinking about life – and how fortunate I am – and how peculiar it is to be so contented, generally, when my actual life is so very different than what I once thought I wanted from it. Very strange.

A rainy autumn day suitable for thinking thoughts.

The day begins rather slowly for a Monday. It’ll be busier as the day progresses. I use the time to get my thoughts sorted out, and my week planned. There’s much to do, but a significant portion of the doing rests on good planning, and awareness of projects already in progress; rushing through the “thought work” has proven to be a poor choice on more than one occasion. I take my time with it. I think things through. I take notes, and review other notes. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I drink my coffee.

Past tense. Autumn colors. Memories like fallen leaves.

Funny how what we think we want doesn’t always turn out to be what we actually wanted, at all. Funny how things that are in the past become something more than mere memories, over time, taking on stature far beyond whatever humble object or event they represent. I find myself thinking about the past, and wondering how I got from there to here… “Here” isn’t where I expected to be, honestly.

…There are conversations I wish I could have with my Dad, my Mom, with Granny…

I sip my coffee contentedly. The day and week stretch ahead of me. My Traveling Partner is at home, working. I’m in the office, working. I’m thinking about life and love, and smiling at the raindrops spattering the grand windows that seem display the city for my view alone in this quiet space. It’s enough. I guess I’m just puzzled about how this can feel so good, so safe, so satisfying… and still find myself vulnerable to the chaos and damage that still linger, and sometimes take me by surprise. I’m fortunate to have come so far. It’s taken time and a lot of verbs and considerable effort and the will to just keep at it… again and again, failure after failure, frustration after frustration… but I am here. This is now. I’m okay with it. More than that… I may even be… happy. At least in this moment. That’s enough.

Eventually, I’ll have to begin again. For now, I’ll just enjoy this moment, right here. 🙂