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Just a Few Words in the Morning

December 6, 2022 //
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The prompt on this blank page suggests I share 5 of my favorite things. Thanks, I’ll pass. lol I mean, I could, but haven’t I got a mind of my own? Thoughts of my own? A direction of my own to take this “conversation”? I’ve got my ubiquitous cup of coffee beside me – a treat, in this case, an eggnog latte. 😀 (These ridiculous things have has many calories as an entire meal, so I don’t have them often, in spite of the holiday seasonality creating false scarcity that tends to suggest to me I should have them as often as I can. lol There’s something to learn from this…)

It’s very early. I woke ahead of my alarm, but I don’t know what woke me. Whatever it was likely also woke my Traveling Partner. As I dressed quietly in another room, he got up and came to see what I was doing (…um… getting dressed to make an early, quiet, departure as we’d discussed the night before…?). He went back to bed, curiosity satisfied. (And shortly after I had departed, sent me emoji kisses and let me know he was awake, after all. So much for him being able to sleep in!) I quietly got my things together for a new work day (and week) and headed to the co-work space I frequent, and here I now am; set up and ready to begin the work day after I’ve had my coffee and done some writing. 😀

I don’t really feel much like writing on a theme this morning. Nothing much to troubleshoot of my day-to-day experience. I remind myself to make a follow-up appointment with my G.P. now that my lab results are back. I think ahead to dinner, and take a moment to regret with some amusement that I forgot to bring my lunch today – and Tuesdays are mostly meetings through the midday – hard to walk away at “lunch time”! My mind wanders through thoughts and ideas the way my fingers dance across the keyboard. I’m not yet entirely awake, I suspect. Still working on this first luscious cup of coffee, excessively creamy and smooth compared to the clean bite of a properly made Americano or pour-over served black. The morning feels vaguely celebratory. It was a lovely long weekend, and in general I’ve got what I need in life and then some. I’m honestly still not entirely used to that. There are moments when I find myself “waiting for the other shoe to drop” in a most peculiar way that likely isn’t at all healthy – just very human.

I think about a recent email from a friend (responding to an email I sent over Thanksgiving). I feel fortunate to have so many very good friends. I’ve got a fair few long-standing friendships of many years endurance that I cherish. There are others that are perhaps somewhat less close as the years pass, and I’m delighted when such friends also allow the years to melt away when we again connect. It’s nice. I enjoy my friends. We don’t spend much time together in each others actual company these days; life has blown us hither and thither and the big get-togethers that once characterized some of these associations have either slowly discontinued over time – or I’ve simply gotten too far away to easily attend, myself. Funny where life takes us. I still think fondly of those gatherings and the many friends I’ve made over the years (although I am admittedly really pretty bad at staying in touch). I add an item to my to-do list, “email friends”, and another “do some snail mail”. I enjoy making hand-made cards and writing letters in ink.

The office music this morning is holiday music. A rather glum version of “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen” tinkles away in the background, strangely grim and suggestive of spooky doings in the night far more than gifts under the tree. LOL

Yesterday, unexpectedly, I found myself feeling rather blue and specifically about the holidays. So many family members gone now. Friends, too. Moments that could once be shared with joy are now nostalgic touch-points, poignant and wistful and sometimes hard to bring up. I am disconnected from most of “my generation” of family, far flung lives that don’t intersect mine anymore that continue somewhere… “out there”. I wonder who my cousins have grown to become? Where life has taken them? Most of the familial sources of early-life trauma (in my life) have died. We are mortal creatures. I was surprised to note, when I did, that their passing did not immediately ease the lasting damage done. I remember being supremely annoyed by that at the time. It’s less interesting as observations go, where I stand today. Doesn’t stop me from wishing I could show them how far I have come in spite of them. I’m not sure that’s really a healthy thing, though, and I guess I’m okay with letting that go. (What choice do I have? It’s tough to schedule a meeting with the dead. LOL)

…What a lovely quiet morning…

…Good coffee…

I pause writing for a few minutes to read the news. It’s the usual dreck. I set it aside and sip my coffee; it’s starting to cool down and this particular coffee beverage is fairly off-putting once it is no longer hot. I’m not inclined to rush it along, just making a point to savor it at its best. 🙂

It’s not really time to start work, yet. I mean… I could, but I am not expected to do so at this early hour. The morning is a mild one, although chilly, and I decide to get a walk in along our “main street”, a good opportunity to enjoy the holiday lights without dealing with crowded sidewalks. 😀 A nice way to begin the day, too…

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Categories Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices

Snowflakes and Shortbread Cookies

December 5, 2022 //
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It was a lovely weekend at home. We had a bit of a snow shower yesterday, and enjoyed a quiet day at home celebrating my Traveling Partner’s birthday; one more of the “winter holidays” to enjoy. 😀 We had a delicious stir-fry for dinner (one of his favorites; bell peppers and beef), and for dessert pumpkin pie (at his request). We hung out, enjoyed each other, and watched the snow fall most of the day, although it didn’t stick much at our altitude, and was gone as the late afternoon “warmth” was enough to turn it all to rain (and mud). I baked shortbread cookies in the afternoon, while my partner tinkered in his shop.

The first snow this year, here.

This morning, my day started quite gently and pleasantly. Good coffee. Quiet lo-fi on the stereo. I’d been up for hours when my Traveling Partner woke. He let me know he did not sleep well. He seems cross and quite out-of-sorts with the world, at least for now, and says he did not sleep well. I offer my sympathy and an expression of regret, as I head to my studio (where I generally write, and turn my attention inward, seeking – if nothing else – to avoid “poking the bear”, and hoping to give my partner some quiet time in which to fully wake up and get his shit together).

My writing is interrupted by my Traveling Partner, who is still feeling cross and annoyed to have slept so poorly. He asks me in an aggravated tone to check my oxygen (using the pulse oximeter feature on my phone). At 99% it’s better than usual, and my attentive upright posture at my desk is intended to support good breathing and also help minimize the pain I’m in. He didn’t ask that question, and yes, I’m in enough pain this morning to have taken an Rx for that almost first thing. I have little enthusiasm for dealing with relationship stress stemming from my pain and his lack of sleep this morning. My solution to the challenges of the morning? Get the hell out of the house, taking my laptop over to the co-work space I generally work from on Tuesdays and Thursdays. It’s a location suited to writing and there’s plenty of coffee available, too.

My arthritis pain this morning is a big contributor to why I chose to simply, quickly, and without fuss get the fuck out of the house as soon as I could; I can manage my pain and my anxiety, but I’m not likely to be easily able to also “manage” (meaning support or account for) his today, too. Seemed the wiser choice to just get the hell out of each other’s way for a while. For sure my writing does not benefit from nagging or vexed interruptions, and neither does my temperament.

…Damn, though… the coffee is so much better at home. LOL

…

…

…

…Yeah, this coffee is so bad it is distracting. LOL Fuck office coffee. LOL

My partner pings me to let me know he misses me. Also to ask about my recent lab results. I take a look, and find myself almost immediately stymied by the VA’s health website. Nothing unusual; their technology and user interface is not exactly state-of-the-art. Funny thing, though; even this small change to my medication (I’m already calling my beta blocker my “chill pill”) has noticeable results even with small day-to-day frustrations. My partner’s morning grumpiness? Not so big a deal – I’ll just get out of his way while he wakes up. No problem. Can’t log into this website or that tool? Meh. I’m over it already and it’s fine; I’ll just do something else and try again later. Not a big deal. Only… these are precisely the sorts of everyday challenges that could upend my entire experience and send me spinning off course, so easily! No tears this morning. No tantrums. Just… moments. Nice change. 🙂 It’s not “everything”, but it’s something – and that’s enough. One step at a time. Incremental improvements will add up. 😀

I sip my coffee and think about the holidays. The tree is up. There are holiday lights on the mantelpiece. There is a Giftmas pudding awaiting its moment. Holiday cards have been sent. The first snowflakes have fallen. Thanksgiving and my Traveling Partner’s birthday are both behind us. There’s no great pressure on the Yule holiday-to-come; we plan for it to be a moment on the calendar, enjoyed warmly, wrapped in love, and characterized more by the festive morsels and holiday cookies than any great number of gifts. We’re focused on other things this year. There will be some small budget for gift-giving, but more of a token of the holiday than a prominent feature is what we’ve discussed. 🙂 I’m even (more than) okay with that. It’s where we are right now.

Giftmas glow. Glad tidings. Happy Home.

I sit for some minutes more. I breathe in and take stock of how I feel. I breathe out and let go of lingering anxiety. I repeat this several times, slightly different iterations with each breath. I breathe in and feel a sense of place within my body. I breathe out and let go of tension I feel in my shoulders, in my back. I breathe in and listen to the quiet of this office place. I breathe out and feel my contentment spread. In. Then out. Just breathing. I “pause” (not the breathing, just the focus on it) to write every now and then. A paragraph. A sentence. A thought. I add a link. I add an image. I look the whole mess over. I resume my observations and my breathing exercise. Back and forth. Breathing. Sipping coffee. Writing. I feel my body and my mind begin to “meet in the middle” feeling more contented and relaxed as I proceed. This is what I was working on when I started the morning. It’s nice to find my way back and “finish what I was doing”.

…It would be nice if the weather were sufficiently pleasant and mild to get a good long walk in…

I think about the day ahead. It’s a day off, although it is a Monday. This feels very luxurious to me. Any time I take a Monday off, specifically, it feels so luxurious. 😀 I’ve a small number of things on my to-do list today – some laundry (just putting clean stuff away), and some tidying up. It’s planned to be a very relaxed day. I hope I succeed there. 🙂 Maybe I’ll bake more holiday cookies…? Maybe I’ll read, or study, or paint…?

I’ve already used one “do over” this morning – it’s good to get comfortable with embracing new beginnings. Useful tool in a chaotic world. Already time to begin again. 😀

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights

Words & Using Them

November 28, 2022 //
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I woke in a cold sweat this morning, heart pounding, feeling that sensation of “being late” and feeling massive amounts of anxiety over that very subjective (and in this case wholly illusory) feeling. There wasn’t anything at all amiss. I was not “late” – and didn’t have anything scheduled on my calendar with other people on this particular work day, to even be late to. I got up and took a leisurely shower before greeting my Traveling Partner (already awake, though I didn’t realize it when I got up) figuring I’m might be walking around in a cloud of stress pheromones. His greeting was soft, pleasant, and merry. I made coffee. We enjoyed taking our morning coffees together. It was quite lovely.

…My anxiety was pretty serious that entire time, though I initially said nothing about it. I could feel myself fighting with the physical features of anxiety while we chatted over coffee together: tight chest, shortness of breath, feeling vaguely nauseous, increased awareness of arthritis pain, a subtle feeling of having trouble breathing – and a not-so-subtle feeling of wanting to bolt from the room. I kept “letting it go” – more accurately, I kept suppressing it each time it surged, hoping it would just go away. Finally, I mentioned it out loud. Just observing the experience, and sharing those observations with my partner. We talked a minute or two about the anxiety, then moved on to other topics. I noticed every few minutes after that, my partner kind of “checked in” on how I was feeling, what he could do to assist, what kinds of things were adding to my feeling of pressure or anxiety? I shared and we talked, and the morning seemed fine honestly. No tears or tantrums, no escalation of some small misunderstanding. No impatience. No frustration. Just two adults aware of each other’s baggage and limitations helping each other through dealing with that shit – together. It was… productive? That seems to under sell the value in just speaking up in an open and trusting way. But, sure, let’s go with “productive”. My day was off to a good start.

I decided to go to the co-work space to work, just based on how bad my anxiety felt, and my desire to work skillfully in spite of it – which I know can potentially reduce my ability to interact with others comfortably, and I for sure did not want to start my partner’s work week mired in my bullshit & baggage. We missed each other almost immediately… and also found ourselves each working on our own work at a high level of efficiency. Win.

It can be seriously uncomfortable to talk about how we feel. Emotions can be complex and very subjective. Individually, we’re not all equally comfortable with emotions (our own, or other people’s). Still worth it. I feel like I understood myself a bit better, and that my partner understood me better, too. Worth it, worth it, worth it.

…Then I began again, and it was easier, and the day so far has been a good one.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being

A Season of Gratitude

November 27, 2022 //
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Thanksgiving kicks off my winter holiday season, and always has. Here it is the Sunday after Thanksgiving and my leggings are dusted with bits of glitter after being on the floor wrapping the tree stand with its skirt after I somehow failed to successfully vacuum up all the fallen glitter left behind from making this year’s holiday cards. I experienced so much joy and satisfaction making the cards, I imagine I’ll do it again next year. Maybe start earlier and rush less…?

Handmade holiday cards were a fun weekend project.

Thanksgiving itself was… fine. It was fine. It was a lovely warm holiday spent in the company of my Traveling Partner. At some point we quarreled. We sorted it out and enjoyed the day. Commonplace enough and it didn’t ruin the day. Later, I did an astonishingly poor job of dinner. Well, I omitted a dish my partner really likes, for one thing, (and I generally make it, but had been doing so without understanding the relative importance to him, and so… I made a menu change that seemed a small detail, and it was a big disappointment for him). The other miss, dinner-wise, was the turkey. Straight up raw. It wasn’t done when I thought it was done. I checked the internal temperature of the bird, and must have managed to stick into the one spot on that fucking carcass that was at “done” temperature – the rest of it? Uncooked. Literally everything else I prepared was ready for the table, and the table was set, and I’d pulled the bird out thinking it was done, and it just was not. Yeesh. The disappointing discovery was made as my partner carved the turkey. It definitely put us both off actually eating turkey. What a waste.

…What’s not wasted? Any affection between my partner and I. He saw how crushed I obviously was over the dinner failures, and quickly offered me these words “I’m not disappointed with you, or upset about dinner. I couldn’t care less about what’s on our table. I care that you’re here with me. That’s what matters; we’re here together.” I felt very loved. Also rather disappointed with my dinner preparation, but yeah – very loved. That does matter more. We enjoyed the meal together anyway – there just wasn’t any turkey or corn. lol The mashed potatoes were creamy and delicious. The stuffing… had too much garlic. (What the hell?!) This may very well have been the worst Thanksgiving meal I have ever prepared. No kidding.

Yesterday evening I made a second “Thanksgiving-ish” meal, using delicious leftovers, and instead of turkey I made chicken strips. It was a satisfying, excessive, and quite a delicious meal. It was… Thanksgiving. We were both even appropriately thankful, and with good reason. Delicious meal in each other’s good company. What about Friday? I don’t even remember. I was in so much pain on Friday that the day ended up lost in it. I don’t think I made (or ate) dinner at all… and I’m not sure I got anything done. I was in that much pain. It’s rare for it to be that bad, but it does happen, and I am most likely to have that experience during the cold autumn days and nights on the way to winter. Yesterday was better. Today has been better still.

Today I finished up the holiday cards and got them in the mail. Did some housekeeping. Stood the tree and checked the lights. Wrapped the skirt around the base. Next up is the garland and then the ornaments. I don’t have much hope that I’ll finish tonight – and I don’t have to. There’s no need to dress the tree trimming in an additional layer of anxiety and stress over that kind of foolishness. LOL There’s no pressure. This whole mess is meant to be joyous, so… yeah… I’m cool taking my time with it. 🙂

Tomorrow a new work week begins, and the year begins the speedy race to the end – with twinkling lights, charity bell-ringers, and holiday carols playing everywhere. I am grateful to be where I am, here at home, wrapped in love, ready to begin again. This is enough. More than enough.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, War and News of War, winter

Heroic Disappointment

November 21, 2022 //
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I am sipping my coffee – an eggnog latte, my fond seasonal weakness coffee-wise each autumn as the Yule season begins. Thanksgiving… holiday parties… Hannukah… the Solstice… Giftmas (more commonly called “Christmas”)… Festivus… Boxing Day… Kwanzaa… it’s a season rich in celebrations and merry-making. Oddly, it wasn’t what I was thinking about over the weekend, in spite of Thanksgiving being just days away…

I sit in the stillness of a local co-work space, alone with my coffee. It’s quiet. The usual background music is not playing, and the stillness feels complete, interrupted by occasional trucks passing on the street outside. I came into “the office” early this morning to avoid waking my Traveling Partner. He’s put in some heroic hours laboring in the shop, making it ready for the new (larger) CNC machine that will arrive soon. He was obviously exhausted by the end of his day, yesterday, and I sometimes rattle about rather noisily in the mornings. It’s not any particular inconvenience to go into the office and give him a better chance at deep sleep, and when he actually asked me if I would, I readily agreed. So… here I am. 😀 Getting some quiet time to write, and sipping on a delightful holiday beverage. It’s a promising start to a Monday.

There have been a lot of items in the news (I’d say “lately”, but truly it’s a relatively common thing) about various celebrities, sports figures, cultural icons of one sort or another, and some problematic tidbit – something they’ve said, or not said, or some bad act (some such are fairly petty or trivial, others quite horrible). We lament the fall of our heroes, when we’re honest enough to accept their human failings at all. Other times, we can’t accept what we’ve seen/heard… and we make excuses for their shitty behavior, or seek to explain it away. We do it for star athletes. We do it for actors. We do it for politicians. We do it for friends and loved ones. We do it for the gods we created in our own image.

I didn’t link any examples, and that’s intentional; we all experience this toppling of our heroes at some point, even if only in the discovery that our own parents do not know everything and don’t get everything right, or perhaps that first time we correct a teacher on some small detail of a subject we study passionately, that they were simply incorrect about.

…It’s hard to separate the art from the artist, isn’t it?.. To separate the author from their story? To separate the musician from their music? The soldier from their service? We are each so human…

Why the hell do we so often set ourselves up – and each other – for failure by creating a heroic caricature that no one could possibly measure up to? Why is it so difficult to “hate the sin” and still deal with one another entirely humanely? Why are our expectations of one another so complicated and often so unreasonable? What are we even doing here??

I only have questions on this one. Catchy bon mots and conveniently pithy slogans of one sort or another came and went with my thoughts over the weekend. I never really got anywhere besides “human beings are not heroes and neither are the gods they create”. We begin life with no perspective, experience, or wisdom, but commence judgment and decision-making immediately… we age and our thinking changes over time as we do, but entirely too late to change our previous decisions or actions based on flawed thinking. If we’re fortunate, we get somewhere good with all that mess. More often, it’s … complicated.

I remember how I felt upon learning that John Lennon mistreated women. “Heartbroken astonishment and disbelief” describe the initial feeling, but it quickly morphed into just disbelief, and from there? Apologist nonsense. Took me awhile to get to a place in life where I could both enjoy his music and also accept that he was a flawed human being, possibly even one I could not personally respect and might not wish to hang out with. Some of his music remains personally meaningful to me, in spite of who he was or may have been. This is just one example. There are so many others! (You, too?) In some cases, I couldn’t get past the human being behind the art, and I avoid it altogether. It sort of depends on how great the art, and how terrible the failure, sometimes. Over the years, I’ve become much less inclined to make excuses for human failings, and also much more inclined to be compassionate. It’s… complicated. I do think that when we insist on super-gluing our heroes to their pedestals in spite of their failings, we set ourselves up to treat people around us more callously – because we’re insisting on preserving the lie of heroism. There are no heroes. Only people. Some people are pretty fucking horrible. Other people are damned nice. No people are living embodiments of perfection in life (don’t argue, just look closer), and we’re each having our own experience. We’re walking our own paths, doing our own best, and generally hoping the outcome will be good more often than not. Can we each do better? Yeah, probably. Having a “role model” feels helpful sometimes. Making our role models over in the image of a god or a hero is probably not. (It’s also probably a lot of weight to have to carry, being someone’s hero…)

What do you value? How do you live that value in your life every day? What do you need a hero for? You have the path ahead, you have the choices in your hands, you have this day. Topple your heroes, then… become the person you most want to be.

Begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Art, art and the artist, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Rape, Relationships, The Art of Being, War and News of War
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