Archives for category: forgiveness

Interesting week so far, and already almost over. I finally “have time” to pause and reflect. My visit with my therapist yesterday was… eye-opening. Revelatory. Inspiring? I’ve got a lot to reflect on, is what I’m saying. I was even overcome with a fairly urgent feeling need to be alone, to be in a place/time with the freedom to reflect at great length and at leisure, and maybe talk it over with someone dear to me… but also quite removed from my direct experience. An old friend. Another woman. Someone with more lived experience.

Talking things over with my Traveling Partner the words sort of just tumbled out and a plan developed in the moment I spoke. I decided to take advantage of an opening on the work calendar to get some time away, alone. My plan is to drive down the coastal highway, see an old friend, camp for a night or two, and head home again.

Later today, unrelated other than part of my experience and journey, and one of the many things to reflect upon, generally, I see a sleep specialist. One I have not previously seen. It took almost an hour to fill out the sleep questionnaire. It was very thorough. As is so often the case, I find it difficult to fill out such forms; my answers are often don’t fit neatly into the “often? sometimes? never?” options provided. I’m always writing in the margins! I check “never” – then opine that it’s not actually never, just very rare. Or I pick “sometimes”, but feel compelled to explain that when it’s going on, it’s actually “often”. That kind of thing. Like… routinely. It’s hard to fill out forms. I’m not “typical”. LOL The answers I want to give are thorough, nuanced, and given context – anything less feels like I’m not able to share my experience correctly. It’s probably a bit much for the medical professional that has to read it. Still… I am hopeful as I prepare for the appointment.

Summery weather of late. I don’t mind. I’m in less pain, generally, when the weather is warm or hot, and quite dry. I sit for a minute, giving myself “room to just be” and paying attention to my body. Pain today? Yeah. Arthritis is about a 3 today… manageable. My headache? Just at this moment, in this specific position, for the time being… it isn’t a headache. Just a bit of tension in that left levator of scapula (or is it the supraspinatus? I’m not sure, honestly, I just live in this meat suit!). It all seems connected somehow… the shoulder pain, the neck pain, the headaches… a weird crescent of pain that feels as if I am balancing it between my shoulder and my ear somehow. Meh. I let it go. I’m okay-ish today.

I think about things my therapist said about things I’d said. I think about my relationship with the woman in the mirror. She deserves better than I give her. I could for sure do better, and I find myself considering the idea that I’ve maybe been “stepping through” a lot of self-care practices in a “tick the box” fashion, without genuine care and affection, just… getting it done. Surviving life, coping with trauma, but not really “being there for myself” in an honest emotional heartfelt genuinely loving way. Wild to say so. Annoying to be aware that this really might be the case even after all this time and work. It’s a journey, though, isn’t it? A process of discovery and self-discovery, of learning and growing, of getting from there to here to over there further on? The journey is the destination, and I suppose I could be grateful to continue to put one foot after the other, over time, and continuing to make actual progress. 😀

…I guess I’ll begin again… again.

I’m sipping my coffee and thinking about love. I’m listening to jazz in the background – nice change from the insipid pop tracks that are often playing in the co-work space. I am reminded of a quote attributed to Miles Davis, “It’s not the note you play that’s the wrong note – it’s the note you play afterwards that makes it right or wrong.” Sometimes love is like that. Some moment of miscommunication, or a misstep in the way we treat each other, feels “off”, like a “wrong note” in an otherwise beautiful piece of music… and it does very much seem to matter greatly what comes next, maybe even more so than that “wrong note” itself.

I sat down to write this morning grateful for the quiet time to reflect and write before this morning’s unusually busy Friday meeting calendar; back to back for about 4 and half hours. Ouch. My phone rang – before 0600, which was entirely unexpected, but… it was my Traveling Partner. I hadn’t replied to his text messages, of which there were… several. My “do not disturb” settings go to 0600, though, so I didn’t get notifications on those, and didn’t expect to hear from him either. He was alarmed that I didn’t respond, so he called. Fair enough. He expressed surprise that I was already at my desk, and concerned that I wasn’t out walking. I felt surprised that he didn’t remember me bitching about my meeting calendar and that I planned to go into the co-work space since my meetings would begin quite early compared to most days. Somehow, the interaction was less affectionate than it was… something quite different than that. lol Shit.

The morning is a chilly one, and I ache. After the “off moment” with my Traveling Partner this morning (which managed to feel rather “parental” in tone), I’m sort of cross. I know I can move past it. I’m just annoyed to have started the day thinking I’d have this quiet time “entirely to myself”, only to become mired in ruminations, anxiety, and finding myself juggling my baggage. Human, I suppose. Pretty annoying though.

…It’s bizarrely difficult (for me) to get even an hour of completely uninterrupted quiet time for reflection and writing, sometimes, which is it’s own self-care issue worthy of consideration… some other time, perhaps.

Here’s the thing – back to that quote I started on – it matters more what follows that “off moment”, than the moment itself. Whether I react. How I respond. What I say in reply to what has been said. How I choose to take the circumstances as they come. I can do/say/think about it in ways that aggravate things further – or I can “let small things stay small” and practice compassion, openness, empathy, and non-attachment, and move on to enjoy the day as it unfolds. No, I’m not saying it’s “easy” – there are definitely verbs involved, and the effort is “all mine”, at least inasmuch as I only control my own actions, words, and thoughts. My results vary. A lot. I’ve got room to grow and improve. I can do better. So…

…Looks like time to begin again. 🙂

Summer is approaching. Mornings, here, are sometimes still chilly. Night time temperatures still fall well below 50 F/10 C. Things cool off before the sun warms them once more. Some afternoons barely hit 70 F/21 C. Pretty comfortable weather, generally, and very good for sleeping… I wake with the sun a lot of mornings in spite of that. Like this morning. It’s nice quiet time for reflection, though, if I wake thoroughly and don’t find myself stumbling groggily through the first hours of the day.

This particular morning I am sipping my coffee and watching the sky beyond the windows change color, hints of pale grays and strange blues give way to peach, lavender, pink, and hints of orange as the sun rises. Pretty. I think about the flowers in the garden. I think about my upcoming birthday (11 days away, now) and our planned camping trip (5 days!). I think about pain, and pain management, and these stiff contrary bones. I think about recent delicious meals, and how much I appreciate my Traveling Partner’s cooking, and how nice it is that he’s been doing more of that lately. Good times, shared. I think about that, too. No misery here. It’s a pleasant morning. I think about the weekend ahead. I think about spending time in the studio… which competes for my attention, alongside “time in the garden”, “time on the trail”, and “time off-roading with my partner”.

Planted these last fall, and I’ve already forgotten what they are, other than “pretty”.

I pause my musings long enough to really appreciate how fortunate I am to enjoy so much of this life, so thoroughly. “This too shall pass.” Good times are wonderful. Savoring them, and reflecting on them, is delightful and healthy. Healing. Still, part of the point in doing so is to ensure they become part of my implicit memory as well, and a well-spring of future resilience upon which I can call when times are darker, and life feels less rich and satisfying. Just keeping it real; my results vary. I have some rough moments here and there. You too? We all do.

I write less often these days. Not because there’s nothing to say, nor because I am wrapped in joy 100% of my time, nor am I, contrariwise, wrapped in misery. I’m just over here living life. I write less because, honestly, I spent much less time in solitary reflection, and less time forcing myself through practices to pull myself out of some messy emotional quagmire. I live. Breathe. Exhale. Relax. Succeed. Fail. Begin again. I try. I explore. I set boundaries. I yield to circumstances. It’s life. It’s not perfect, but it’s also quite a lot better than “just okay”. I sometimes feel I am on the edge of “thriving full-time”, which is pretty remarkable, considering the entirety of my experience.

I sip my coffee feeling my moment shift gears from “quiet reflection” to feeling filled with gratitude and love. It’s a nice start to a new day. I smile and think about my partner, at home, still sleeping. My heart beats with love.

It’s time to begin again.

Memorial Day is sometimes a hard one (for me). The days leading up to it this year were particularly difficult, though I don’t really have a reason why. I’ve lost a few folks over the years. That will never not be true in my life; once we lose the first one, it’s all “more” from there. Spent some time over the weekend reflecting on those losses, and those people. I spent the time with my Traveling Partner, and it was a very healing time we managed to share. I’m grateful.

Losses are hard. We feel our own pain most (and worst, generally). Running from it doesn’t change it – the way out is through. The challenge is not getting stalled in the momentary misery of grief.

The weekend was summery, and fairly mild. We got out among the trees. I got out into the garden. We drove beautiful miles and shared deep conversations. I needed that. We both did, I guess, and we’re better for it.

I’m sipping my morning coffee a bit surprised at how poorly I slept last night after a couple days of extraordinarily good sleep, deep and restful… last night my anxiety flared up with the recollection that today is a work day. Silly, but real. I woke numerous times to double-check that my “sunrise alarm” was actually set. It was. Every time I checked. lol It remains true that a few days of healing and emotionally gentle and nourishing time don’t “fix” anxiety. It comes and goes. My results vary. This morning I got up and managed to start the day without taking it personally or escalating it beyond the obvious; it’s disordered, and there is no reason to feed it and give it more energy.

I smile when I think about the weekend, and my Traveling Partner. Good times.

…Time to begin again…

Change is. Taking some quiet time really mattered. Helped a lot.

Memorial Day weekend.

I’ll take weekend and try to s I rt myself out and soothe myself. Garden. Maybe paint. Get some trail time.

There are still verbs involved. My results still vary. I’ll keep practicing. Maybe get some sleep.

I’ll begin again.