Here it is already Sunday. First week on the new job is already behind me. New week ahead… so soon. The weekend feels peculiarly short now that I’m back to work. Still… it’s the result I was going for, in practical terms. I sip my already-cold coffee feeling infused with contentment and purpose.
This particular new adventure is a bit of a “routine breaker”, as it turns out. I’m even okay with that. I’ve been going into the city and working from the office most days, so far. No obligation to do so, it’s just quite a pleasant (and quiet) workspace, and my Traveling Partner’s own work needs presently make it a good fit. My broken routines don’t end there… my waking time varies quite bit, which is rare for me. Meal times, too. What I’m up to from moment to moment is pocked with strange spontaneity, and I’m okay with this too. I’m getting more/better sleep, and the new “really mine” CPAP machine seems to be working out well (although, as is typical for me, changing to a different mask completely fucked up my sleep for a few days until I got used to it all over again). Last night I actually slept more or less entirely normally – even got 7.5 hours of actual sleep. Good quality sleep. My mind is still pretty blown by that. It’s pretty huge as small wins go. Sleep is a big deal.
…My Traveling Partner is also sleeping better, as a result, and seemed to be in quite an excellent mood even first thing. It is a nice change. 😀
One thing I haven’t been doing, though, is writing. Or painting. Or, honestly, doing anything that amounts to creative work or “me time”. I’ve just been too busy with all sorts of new job stuff, and by the time the work day is over and my commute is behind me, I just don’t have it in me to sit at a desk even a moment longer. I had that very thought this morning, and laughed; the solution was right in front of me. I grabbed my laptop and a comfy seat on the couch in the living room, with lo-fi on the stereo, and here I am… no time pressure, no sense of obligation, no stress. Just a woman, a moment, and some words. Nice. 😀
I sip my coffee. Colder now for having taken a break mid-sentence at some point to check out my partner’s progress on a project he’s working on for a customer. Complicated stuff. I enjoy his walk through of software features and new knowledge, and seeing how the template for a new piece develops, and where the challenges are. When he reaches that point where his words are more part of his internal dialogue than anything to do with our conversation, I kiss him and excuse myself to return to my writing.
If I examined this one moment and used it to gauge the entirety of my experience for “quality”, I’d have to say I’m both exceedingly fortunate and also very, very, happy. I sit quietly for a minute, just smiling and enjoying the feeling. I think most of us spend far too much time mired in what frustrates an upsets us. The challenges and aggravations of life become too large and too much of what life is “about”. It’s so worthwhile to really savor the satisfying pleasant moments, the joyful moments, the contented moments… and I find that doing so helps create balance, and resilience. It allows the “character” of my experience, overall, to encompass so much more than old trauma, or future worry.
…”Now” is quite nice this morning, so I think I’ll “stay here” awhile… until it’s time to begin again.
I’m mostly over my recent bout of whatever miserable illness struck me (and my Traveling Partner, and step-son). I’ve got a lingering cough, which frankly is no surprise to me – it’s nearly always the outcome of any sort of respiratory illness for me. It’s a byproduct of damage incurred from a combination of childhood illness and military injuring (those oil fires did me no good). It’ll pass, just takes me a bit longer than it otherwise might.
The new job starts tomorrow. Exciting. There’s ongoing forward momentum with my Traveling Partner’s business, too. It feels wonderful to support that, and even to help. Today I took next steps getting an Etsy page set up (almost done with that…). One thing at a time. Like any journey, it’s about next steps and incremental progress over time. I think about other details that I can add to the new page… a friendly shop-video walking future customer’s through our shop, and sharing our thoughts about how we make products, and what inspires us, maybe? Additional listings. Things like that – basic stuff.
…A lot of life’s richness and complexity is built on very basic stuff. That seems worth thinking about…
I sit in the studio, with the fragrances of scented shower fizzies filling the room. I am reminded that there are a couple more scents I meant to make batches of this weekend… cucumber-melon, lavender (a favorite), and something that smells like a rainy autumn walk. So many luscious scents to delight me in the shower – I want to make them all! The new batches of chocolate-orange and meadow flowers are lovely. (I find myself wondering if it’s too soon to take another shower, already…?)
In spite of the lingering hints that I’ve been ill recently, I’m enjoying the weekend with my Traveling Partner. Some video gaming. Some video watching. Some cooking. Some laundry. Some crafting and making. Nothing fancy – all of it’s been very “basic” quiet living sort of stuff… but… isn’t that what life is built upon? The small delights? The everyday pleasures? The time and care taken on things that are utterly routine? Life’s lasting adventure is built on small steps forward, not so much the grand gestures or big moments – those are rare, which is fitting for the way they hit our consciousness so much harder in spite of how fleeting they truly are. I find so much value in being present in the small moments and the basic stuff. I savor this one, with my now-cold coffee long-forgotten on the edge of my desk, just one sweet pleasant moment of so many… it’s too easy to overlook how many lovely moments there really are, if I am constantly rushing from one “big deal” to another, without pausing for breath.
…I pause for breath…
Life isn’t “perfect” (see the opening paragraph; I’m still not 100% over being sick, for starters, and on top of that I was born a human primate, so… there’s that). It’s not bad though. Hell, it’s better than bad… it’s good. I sit here smiling quietly. This is enough. More than enough. This is pretty fucking sweet, generally speaking, and I’m contented and sometimes even actually “happy”. That’s a very subjective condition, and it stymies me how similar circumstances are across the entirety of my life – there were a lot of moments in which I could have been far happier than I actually was, but… I wasn’t. At this point, I think that was (in many cases) as much because I just didn’t know how to be that thing we call “happy”, every bit as much as it had anything to do with the specifics of my life in that moment. Kind of a lot, actually. How peculiar. I can’t go back in time and “fix that”… but… you know what I can do? Revisit some of those moments through my recollections, and enjoy that moment then from my perspective of now. I don’t mean to suggest that I’m griefing myself over how I felt at that time – no good would come of that. I’m just taking time to recall something pleasant, doing so in great detail, and also letting go of any lingering baggage that may have become attached to that time, place, or relationship, and just… enjoying what I can about that time, then. It tends to reduce the lasting misery of miserable times, by undercutting the memory of the misery, and giving a wee boost to the memories of joy, however brief, fleeting, or impotent they seemed then. Worthwhile.
I pause again, this time to cough. It’s time to begin again. Some hot tea, perhaps…?
I opened my news feed by mistake, and the headlines… damn. This may not be “about you” or useful at all… it’s just on my mind.
Damn, People. What’s with the anger all the g’damned time?
What’s with behaving as if your anger, all by itself, justifies your shitty behavior, your tantrums, your unreasonable demands and expectations, and your very peculiar air of entitlement that the whole world (or at least some specific fraction of it) make changes to soothe you? I’m just saying… there’s a whole lot of strange bullshit and bad behavior associated with unmanaged anger. It’s… ugly. Domestic violence? Ugly. Child abuse? Ugly. Exes killing exes? Ugly. People screaming at other people who are just doing… people things? Ugly. Late flight tantrums? Ugly. Long line tantrums? Ugly. Parking disputes? Ugly. Bad neighbor bullshit? Ugly. Just fucking stop it – how about that? How about accepting that you’re angry about something, giving yourself a minute to reflect before you “deal with it” (at least as far as discussing it with some other hapless human), and (maybe breathe) then take a wise, measured, well-considered approach to resolving whatever fly is in your ointment today? I mean, for real? Stand down, you hostile belligerent badly behaved seething entitled rage-monkey – no one has time for your bullshit, and um, also? No one deserves to die over it. Anger is just an emotion. Check yourself.
Just saying. Why the fuck are you leading with your anger, or letting your anger call your shots in life? You’re a human being (I mean, most likely, if you’re reading this, you’re a human being). One of the big “features” of being human is the ability to reflect on our experience and manage our emotions. So… maybe do some of that. Like… all the time, please. It’s a practice. We become what we practice. If you practice being an angry reactive shithead, guess what you become? Something to think about. Anger management takes practice. Developing resilience takes practice. Becoming calm and reasonable takes practice. Having perspective takes practice. Making good use of wise perspective once developed takes more practice. Thinking before you speak takes practice.
…No, I’m not saying it’s “easy”, and yes, it does take work. “Practice” is a verb. You’re probably frustrated with this too, finding yourself feeling regretful after saying or doing some terrible thing to (or at) someone you care about. You can change.
I sigh out loud over my coffee. I’m generally in an exceedingly bad mood when I first wake up in the morning. It’s pretty reliably true that I do not want to talk to people before I’m “all the way awake”, which is generally after the first cup of coffee is gone, and the second one started. (This isn’t unique to me, there are a lot of folks who are less than approachable first thing in the morning, my Traveling Partner included.) I don’t always have the luxury of avoiding all human contact in the morning, though, particularly on work days, so I’ve had to learn to manage my temper, my words, my reactions to other people, how I hear things being said to me, and how I respond to both strangers and those close to me, until I have my shit together for the day. It’s been ages since I acted in anger first thing in the morning, or reacted unpleasantly to having to interact with people before I feel ready for all that – I’m proud of that progress, because the basic truth that I’m seriously all thorns and sharp edges first thing in the morning hasn’t changed at all. How I behave has changed a lot. Practice.
Change is within reach. Who do you want to be? What do you need to practice to be that person? Get started making that change – one small detail at a time is enough to get going, and then… just keep practicing. Fail? You will. You totally will. (I know I do.) Begin again. Do your best. Practice more. Practice something new or a bit different. Keep at it. Fail again? Yeah, that’s a thing – incremental change over time takes… time. Keep at it. We become what we practice. Practice being the person you most want to be. Every day. Yes, and after every failure. Reflect on that reflection looking back from your mirror – what does that person do and say at their best, in one situation or another? What could you have done differently to get a better result? Practice that.
But wait… what if you’re “legitimately provoked”, you may ask? You’re not going to like my thinking on this one, perhaps, but… that’s precisely when and why it matters to practice. Provocation is not an excuse for bad behavior in any real way. Just sort of makes it seem explainable in some understandable way that one might behave badly, but it doesn’t make it okay. It doesn’t justify bad acts. It doesn’t justify killing someone. It doesn’t justify saying terrible things. Nothing really does – because we absolutely have it within our power to do better than that, being what we are. Can’t manage to do better on your own? Get help. Do better.
(If that paragraph caused you to go down some extreme-scenario rabbit hole about self-defense or something, just stop it. Take a minute to hear me and think about what I’m actually saying, please.)
I’m sipping my coffee on a quiet Thursday morning. There’s nothing much going on, but I’m in pain and I am in a seriously bad mood – but I’m also enjoying the morning in spite of my emotional weather (because that will pass, and I have choices). I’m enjoying being able to choose to be pleasant and understanding, in spite of feeling cranky and out of sorts. I’m enjoying this good cup of coffee. I’m enjoying the outcome of taking steps to manage my temper this morning; I get to be part of a peaceful household characterized by pleasant conversation and love. Worth the effort.
I woke up ahead of my Traveling Partner. His son was already up. I took time to water the lawn and front garden before the sun heats up the day. When my partner woke, I took my coffee into the studio to “give him time to wake up”. This works for me; I get time to write, he has time to make his coffee and start his day with quiet thoughts. No conflict (real or imagined). No stress. Just a chill morning. He’ll let me know in some sweet way that he’s ready for the day by telling me he misses me, or inviting me to join him watching some short video that made him laugh, or coming in to see what I’m up to. When he does? We begin again. 😀
Practice being the person you most want to be. (Painting by an unknown artist seen hanging in a local restaurant.)
I am sipping my coffee between calls with recruiters interested in me for one role or another. I am feeling relaxed, hopeful, and positive, but with a nagging hint of lingering anger at my former manager (over the lay-off itself and the bullshit she attempted to use to give that any sort of acceptable context that could make her “not the bad guy here”).
I’d like to let go of that anger; it’s not productive or helpful.
Over the past 11 days, I must have composed dozens of emails in my head, seeking to “have my say” or in some way exact a feeling of “closure” about being laid off. Usually this occurs in some quiet moment when I could definitely be spending my time more joyfully, but somehow find myself picking at this minor hurt nonetheless. Honestly, over a lifetime I’vefor sure survived far worse. Being laid off, in general, and this manager specifically don’t deserve another moment of my attention at this point, and certainly don’t rate being irked to the point of unhappiness at all. Yes, it was a good job, with a good company that has a good culture… but… I continue to feel more relieved than dismayed; my manager was a fucking nightmare to work with (in spite of being a generally pleasant person to interact with socially) and in less than six months it was already coloring the experience. “Unfit to lead” puts it mildly. Tales for another time, perhaps.
I sip my coffee and breathe, exhale, and relax. I don’t work for her anymore. 😀
When I find myself struggling to let go of some circumstance, event, or conversation (it’s a very human thing), it’s often the result of feeling as if something “important” has been left unsaid, or some task left uncompleted. I’m looking for “closure”.
It’s pretty human to seek closure when something falls apart. Often that’s our very human ego seeking to make ourselves properly the good guy in our own narrative, other times we’re seeking a missing apology or for someone who hurt us to “make it right” – and if that’s not going to be available, to at least exact some explicit acknowledgement of the harm done. Let’s get super real about that; we don’t always get to have closure, at all, especially if we’re insistent on the person who actually wronged us being an active participant in getting that closure. (People don’t like being accountable for the wrongs they do and the harm they cause.) Sometimes it’s helpful to have the conversation, make the attempt, and see what comes of it… other times not so much. Sometimes seeking closure just tangles us up with whatever caused our trauma in the first place, and does more damage without real benefit. Why do that?
What do to about wanting closure…?
I sip my coffee (iced this morning, mostly gone at this point and quite watered down by melted ice). I notice the small puddle of condensation that has formed on the desk around the bottom of the cup, and mop it up with a couple tissues. “Cleaning up my mess” feels like a relevant metaphor…
What would “closure” get me, in these circumstances? What am I really looking for that it feels like I’m going without? Am I wanting a “last word”? Am I hoping to change that manager’s thinking in some way? Am I feeling that human urge to “be right” – and be recognized as such? Am I just wanting to say “I saw what you did there, you didn’t get away with anything.” or “That was a dick move.”? What would the point be? What am I hoping to gain? Am I just having a private tantrum or working through the emotions of hurt and grief? I’m not sure, but I definitely won’t be attempting to act on my feelings until I answer these questions for myself in a way that feels clear and settled. (I’m not a fan of hasty decision-making, lashing out, or burning bridges, and avoid doing those things where I can.) So… in my head, I write the email sharing my thoughts – each time recognizing where my words fail me, or identifying some internal need I can entirely meet for myself without ever hitting send on an email I might later regret. The mental exercise has more value than sending the email. What I think I want to say has already changed a number of times, in some cases because my thinking has already “matured”, or new information has come to light. Sometimes I just find “better words” or a clearer way to communicate my point(s), which is a very useful means of understanding myself more deeply.
…Sometimes, I just want to hurt her because she hurt me. That’s also very human, but it’s a lot more “tit-for-tat” and petty than I prefer to be, personally. I choose a different path.
…Perspective is helpful, and I often gain perspective through self-reflection…
Other circumstances, other needs for closure; for many years my yearning for “closure” (and some kind of apology) kept me distant from my father. Many years. Decades. I can’t say I regret the distance, I got quite a lot of healing from that… but I was definitely taken by surprise when closure developed on its own, through circumstances I didn’t anticipate. I wasn’t just surprised to get closure – I was surprised that I still felt a need for it after so many years. Stranger still, now and then I find myself still yearning for closure as if I’d never had any… trauma leaves lasting damage and closure doesn’t work the way we’d like it to; it’s not magic, it doesn’t “fix everything”, and it doesn’t erase past events. It’s worth understanding (and accepting) that.
…But what to do about wanting closure…?
It’s actually possible (not easy, just possible) to give ourselves closure, absent any involvement by the person(s) who hurt us. No kidding. It’s even quite effective. (Closure – and its partner “forgiveness” – isn’t about that other person at all; it’s about us, ourselves, and how we feel.) There are verbs involved, and yeah, your results may vary, but… it’s do-able. It’s also a practice; it’s not a one-off task that one can check off a to-do list once completed. (Note: this is my practice for achieving some closure when none is offered or readily available, and should not be considered the opinion of an expert, or any sort of guarantee of success – no science behind it, no peer-review, just one woman’s approach to getting closure. It’s worked pretty well for me.)
There are some steps. (These tend to “make it look easy” due to over-simplification, but should give you an idea of how I approach it.)
Understand the actual hurt I’m feeling (try to get the heart of it, in the simplest possible terms)
Sort out what I want that I think will ease that hurt in some way (if anything; keep it real)
Practice non-attachment, compassion, and self-compassion
Look for perspective and alternate understandings of the circumstances that may provide more context (without gaslighting myself, but mindful that I can be mistaken, or lacking “all the information”)
Role play the conversation as realistically as feasible (or write the letter or email – do not send!) – do it more than once, as often as needed, until it feels “said”. (Don’t get mired in this step!)
Reflect on how the event that hurt me has affected me (and why), and what I can learn from it
Have I grown from this hurt? How? Can I grow further? How?
Give myself credit for enduring/surviving/getting over it – and for any subsequent growth or success that may have come from it.
Let it go. Let them go. Walk on.
See number 3, and keep practicing.
It’s not a perfect process, but it’s a useful starting point. See, the thing about closure is that it isn’t really something someone else gives us – it’s something we create, or accept, for ourselves. We have the control. We have the power. We have the words.
Still and always practicing. Sometimes I get it “right”. Sometimes I fail myself (or someone else). Sometimes I am proud of the woman I am right now. Sometimes I fall short of being the woman I most want to be. I need more practice. 🙂
I’m sipping a delicious hot coffee, a freebie from the local chain vendor of caffeinated beverages (one of many that accumulated over the past not-quite-a-year of weekly commutes to the city). Handy. Yes, I saved them up over time without using them, figuring there might be some time when it would be nice to enjoy one, but perhaps excessively costly, for… reasons. Here I am, with reasons. LOL It’s a pleasant quiet morning. The slow dawn revealed a cloudy start to the day. The day started easily, and I had slept well through the night, waking feeling quite rested. My Traveling Partner pinged me a kiss emoji over SMS on my way to the solitude of a morning walk, and some time in the co-work space handling job search tasks. A good beginning to a new day, indeed. 😀
A different day, a different beginning; it’s not really about the cup of coffee, how it’s made, or where it came from – it’s about the moment.
My Traveling Partner and I had a moment of conflict “recently” (I have the sense that it was this week, but… I honestly don’t recall when, at this point, and it entirely blew over, and was, it seemed, more a byproduct of stress over lingering sleep challenges than anything else), and in the midst of taking turns saying things to each other that were needlessly unkind, he mocked the very thing(s) that I rely on to persist in putting one foot in front of the other day-after-day and which I use to heal ancient pain, and grow as a person, and yeah, also even use to treat him well, and with kindness and compassion. Ouch. My feelings were incredibly hurt. I was astonished and appalled. I was… enraged. I was saddened. (I mean, for real though? Damn, dude. Way to be hurtful.)
Here’s the thing, though… On reflection, I am sensitive to the idea – the very true truth – that “hurt people hurt people”. I know this first hand, from within the context of my own experience. Meaning to say that people who have been emotionally wounded over time do lash out, and they do inflict new/further damage on people around them, often those they love, and that damage is often targeted, using uniquely personal information that has the greatest potential to inflict pain, taken from the most intimate shared moments. Messy and unpleasant. Also… not actually “personal”. It just feels that way. It is an expression of the pain of the person delivering the injury, more than anything explicitly to do with the person they are lashing out at in that moment. Hurt and anger are strange like that. It feels personal to the recipient, mostly because as creatures we’re prone to taking shit personally, not so much because it really is.
…I get it, though… I work through a lot of my personal bullshit and baggage right here. Out in the open. Honest and real and raw and… also aspirational. I seek to do better. I don’t always hit the mark. I set goals for myself. I don’t always achieve them. I acknowledge where I’ve failed or fallen short. I pick myself up and walk on. I am practicing. Day after day, I show up, and I practice the practices that I hope will, over time, result in my becoming the woman (the person) I most want to be. I’m not there yet. I’ll point out two things that seem obvious to me, but maybe aren’t so obvious… 1. I practice because I’m human, and I’m “not there yet”; I need the practice! 2. “The woman I most want to be”… may not be the woman anyone else wants to see me become. With just those two things in mind, there’s more than enough within these blog posts to fill any argument with insults and barbed remarks to fuel any heated moment. Taking them personally would only set me up for disappointment, a feeling of chronic inadequacy, a sense of utter failure, and a quick slide into despair… defeating the point of being here, now, in the first place. “Don’t drink the poison.“
Instead of attacking him for attacking me over such personal things, or for seeking to undermine my progress (it’s highly unlikely he was looking at his words through that lens at all), I let those words simply land in the space between us unaddressed beyond the basic point that he was feeling hurt, mistreated, and provoked, and was frustrated by his lack of sleep. I did my best to focus on the need actually being expressed, and not so much on the shitty way he was expressing it in the moment. He’s very human. I “filed it away” for later reflection, and here I find myself, reflecting. It’s a nice morning for it. I’m in a good place. We’re in a good place with each other. I know I need more practice. That’s not new information. What’s useful to reflect on is where we are with each other, and how I can make use of what I’ve heard my partner say to me to become a better partner, and friend, myself.
Any misstep can become a beautiful gesture of love, if we’re willing to be vulnerable about our failures.
I think about the lawn my Traveling Partner recently put in. It’s gorgeous. In the process of preparing the ground for the new sod, my partner inadvertently damaged one of the roses. He didn’t hide that, or ignore it, or try to excuse the error, or blame someone/something else; he simply pointed it out, with some regret. He also took that moment to transform the mistake into something beautiful; he carefully cut the roses and put the blossoms in a wee vase on the table where I would see them. So cute. The little vase of flowers meant so much more to me than the unplanned cutting of a stray cane or two on a rose that is already pretty well-established. Just saying; we’re human. We make mistakes. We fuck shit up. It’s how we handle that and the outcome, and how we support and seek to heal each other as human beings that matters most. 🙂
I sip my coffee. It’s a good morning.
So… yeah. I’m a work in progress for sure. lol The journey is the destination. I am my own cartographer, and this trip has no map. I do my best, and I can fearlessly state that my results vary, and sometimes my best definitely does not feel “good enough”. It’s necessary to begin again. Often. All of that is more than “okay” – it’s the nature of the experience. Growth and incremental change over time are not instant. There are verbs involved.
I breathe. Exhale. Relax. It’s a beautiful morning to practice practices, and to put in the effort to become the woman I most want to be. With that in mind, it’s time to begin again. 😀
When it feels like it’s all stairs, it’s nice to have someone sharing the journey.
Evening Light 