I am recalling the excitement of buying a new album, after hearing something I really like that is new to me, or something from a favorite artist, that I haven’t yet heard. It’s often not the “big hit song” or the single on the airwaves that stays with me, memorable, favored, over-played for weeks. It is more likely to be some unexpected “hidden gem”, that speaks to me in a more personal way, found only because I listened with an open mind to more than what was obvious in front of me. I think about that for some little while.
It’s also true that a great many injuries don’t show on the surface, or leave an obvious visible scar that makes it plain that damage has been done, and may linger. These things sometimes erupt as strange quirks of character, or poor behavior, or coping mechanisms that outlive their usefulness. I think about that for awhile, too. It is sometimes very helpful too look beyond the obvious and to listen more deeply.
I have time for my thoughts this morning. I’ve definitely got a fucking cold (again), but I woke after many hours of unsatisfying sleep feeling restless and irritable, with a stuffy head. All I could think about was getting to my feet, out of the house, and onto the trail, just so my head might clear as I walked. I definitely did not want to hang about the house coughing and blowing my nose while everyone else is trying to get some sleep. I probably won’t actually walk…it was the noise of heavy rain falling that woke me I think, and I’m certainly sick. I should not allow myself to become soaked or cold, and I can wait for the sun, enjoy a cup if coffee and write while the rain falls. Anyway, my sinuses drained and my head cleared some minutes after I started down the highway toward the trailhead. If I get a break in the rain after the sun rises, I might still walk; I always miss it when I don’t.
These are pretty stressful times, and it is hard watching America – part of it – working to become a fascist authoritarian dictatorship or dystopian oligarchy. It apparently makes me ill. Self-care is even more important in terrible times. This is also a hopeful moment in our history, seeing so many organize and protest and speaking truth to power. Wow. This too, all of it, will pass. Even our elected officials and their billionaire handlers are 100% mortal. No one lives forever. Evil governments do fall. I didn’t march or join a protest this weekend, though I considered it. (It would be irresponsible to bring contagion to a protest.) I wrote letters to my representatives, and emails. Complete inaction doesn’t feel like a good choice to me, not while we’re watching democracy burn, and the legitimate progress made since the dawn of the atomic age is being eroded with every injury to a citizen by armed, masked, government thugs.
… And if someone tells you they are in favor of this administration’s policies because they are against all that “woke” shit? Ask them to define, in simple terms, what they mean by “woke”. I’ve been finding this simple question very revealing (and it tends to force people to consider the reality of the cruel policies being implemented with their support). Don’t let petty nastiness go unremarked upon – point it out and ask why it seems acceptable. Instead of laughing uncomfortably at cruelty, jokes, or mockery at someone’s expense – ask why the teller thinks it is funny.
What we see often depends on what we’re looking at – or for.
I sip my coffee feeling some better than when I woke. It’s still raining quite hard without letting up. A gray rainy dawn has arrived. I look out across the highway at the farm fields that in years past have been a shallow seasonal lake this time of year. This rain is welcome, we need it, but I wonder if it is too little, too late? It may be a very dry summer ahead. I think about camping and wildfire risks. (Yes, it’s a metaphor.)
The rain slows down some. The marsh trail tempts me in spite of the muddy soggy trail I know awaits unwary footsteps. I eye my rain poncho and my cane, conveniently next to me. I sigh to myself and wonder if it is a good time to begin again?
It’s easy to focus on the negative, isn’t it? Whatever is amiss right now, whether here or far away, is often so compelling we dive headlong into that mess, and give up on all the good things going on, too. We get mired in some bit of unpleasantness, large or small, or let conflict live in our heads, and forget to live our lives through any other lens. Yesterday was hard. I had a nasty headache that persisted through the day, I was cross from the moment I woke until I finally called it a night. It’s rare for me to be stuck in a bad mood for so long. I’m glad I woke without it.
Look, I’m not saying don’t protest injustice (please be safe, and please protest peacefully), nor am I discouraging you from speaking up about how you feel or what you are going through. (Use your words! Speak truth to power.) I am pointing out that the picture is nearly always bigger than the moment any one of us is in right now, and there are opportunities to get to a more positive outlook, and a better state of being. In some cases, it may take a night of good sleep, in others maybe a moment of perspective is all that is needed? You results may vary – I know mine do. lol Adulting is hard sometimes. I’m grateful that with expectation setting and taking care with my words throughout the day, the consequences of yesterday’s crappy headspace ended up being generally good; a deeper connection with my Traveling Partner, and no one having to go to bed mad or with hurt feelings (as far as I could tell). Win. Small wins matter; sometimes small wins are all you get.
Sometimes it’s a good idea to take a minute, and sort things out.
This morning, I’m thinking about “what’s good?” – because I spent too much time yesterday focused on the things that were off, or going wrong, or just seem crappy and unfair. My Traveling Partner was correct all those years ago, when he pointed out to me that my negativity was doing me real harm (in addition to being unpleasant to be around, generally). “Toxic positivity” is not the solution; this is not “fake it until you make it” territory, though speaking in terms of practices may suggest that it somehow is. It is more to do with perspective, and balance, and self-awareness, and consideration, and compassion – and the very real likelihood that most of the time, in most circumstances, things are not as bad as they may seem in the moment. Emotions like sorrow and anger and frustration are still valid useful emotions that tell us something about our experience. The way out is through – squashing our emotions does not resolve them. Forbidding ourselves to experience our feelings in order to more carefully craft a feigned pleasant exterior and a smile suited only to commercial purposes is not emotionally healthy. There is another path. Savor the small pleasures and simple joys. Enjoy each fleeting moment of delight unreservedly. Share kindness. Assume positive intent. Don’t take things personally. When hard times hit, the resilience you’ve built over time will sustain you. We become what we practice. (Practice calm, we become calmer over time. Practice freaking out over small things or losing your temper over small mishaps, we become less able to manage our emotions in a healthy way, and unable to maintain our perspective on events. Seems like we’ve got some choices.) I sip my coffee and think about it awhile longer. Am I satisfied with how I handled my crappy day yesterday? Mostly. Could I have done better? Probably. I have today ahead of me to do that; it’s a whole new experience, filled with new moments.
It is an ordinary enough Tuesday. I may even work from home. My Traveling Partner suggested it. I woke way too early for that, though, and I did not want my wakefulness to wake everyone else. I dressed and slipped away into the darkness – hopefully without waking everyone.
What’s good? This cup of coffee, actually. It’s pleasant, mellow, and no bitterness detected – characteristics I’d like very much to develop and deepen, as a person. I think most days I get pretty close. Progress. I think about the work on-site annual strategy meeting that I am not attending in person this week, afterall. Sure, I could get all wound up in whether not being there in person may “hold me back” professionally… or… I could focus on what’s good; I’m home, available to care for my Traveling Partner when he needs me, and not faced with the inconvenience, cost, fatigue, or risk of illness that inevitably comes with professional travel. What I choose to focus on may set the tone for many moments ahead of me. It’s not a new lesson for me – I knew it yesterday when I was mired in my bleak mood. I struggled to make an effective change, not because I did not know I could choose otherwise, but because making that choice in the first place was so fucking difficult in that moment. (Moments pass.) I’m not inclined to understate how difficult it can be to choose change, to go another direction, or to soothe an angry heart. Sometimes it is hard, and my results vary. I keep practicing because I keep improving through practice. It gets better. It gets easier. It gets more reliable – until at some point, on some detail of behavior, thinking, or character, I will find that I have changed.
Walking my own path, one step at a time.
What’s good? Right now the warmth and cameraderie of this chain cafe! It’s a silly thing, but heart-warming; the baristas here have gotten to know me by name, and are familiar with my early morning coming and going on these work days. I write quietly in the corner, people-watching a bit now and then, sipping coffee and reflecting on life. If I don’t come by, they notice. If I am wearing a frown for no obvious reason, they ask if I’m okay. It’s a very human experience of community. It’s good. I enjoy it, even when I’m headache-y and cross. Yesterday it was one of the highpoints of my morning – just that moment of recognition that I was not at my best and clearly having a difficult morning. “How’s the morning?” backed up with a concerned look, and authentic interest in the answer hits differently. I reflect on authenticity and sincerity. A much younger me might have sneered dismissively at the suggestion that these are character qualities with real value. That younger me was wrong about a lot of other shit, too. I chuckle with fond affection and a smile with a little sorrow at the corners; we don’t know what we don’t know, and we think we know a lot more than we actually ever could.
What’s good? Simple pleasures, like a hot shower, or a good cup of coffee. Unexpected delights, like a gift on a non-birthday, or a letter (or email) from a faraway friend. A pleasant moment over a cup of tea at the edge of my garden in Spring? Definitely good. An unexpected compliment is also good. I sip my coffee and think of as many little things that feel good to me as I can, and I turn those around “in the other direction” – so many are things I can easily do and deliver that moment of joy and delight to someone else. I smile thinking about it. Maybe this evening is a good one to write letters (or emails) to far away friends? Perhaps it is a good one to enjoy a shower with my Traveling Partner – or share a good cup of coffee together in the evening (I could pick up some decaf for me)? Is there some little thing I could give to a friend to demonstrate my affection? Perhaps I could invite my pleasant neighbor over for a cup of tea? The joy we give others is returned to us multiplied. There are verbs involved. Choices to make. Actions to follow-through on. Living life is not a passive process.
Seems to be very effective so far… probably doesn’t hurt that the path is mine, and that I choose it myself.
I sip my coffee. I think to message my Traveling Partner to let him know I will return home later, after he wakes, to work from home. Useful expectation-setting that I don’t expect him to see until he wakes later. Minutes later, he replies; he hasn’t slept as well as I had hoped, apparently, but lets me know he’s going back to sleep. I hope he does and that his rest is deep and satisfying. I know how rare that it is, and how much he needs it.
My coffee has begun to cool. There is a bossa nova playing in the background, reminding me of my grandparents and summers at their house; the favored radio station playing there was some sort of smooth jazz, and often featured samba and bossa nova music. It’s not music that I greatly enjoy, neither do I dislike it – it definitely fills me with nostalgia, and memories of a different time and place.
Meditation over coffee… like a sunrise in my thoughts.
What’s good with you? Take a moment to think it over (no need to get back to me, though I’d certainly make time to enjoy your comment and to reply, it’s really for you more than for me), especially if the here and now of your experience is difficult. Give yourself a moment to appreciate the things that are good. Let it lift you up and color your perspective. Go ahead and begin again. 😀
I slept poorly. Well, that’s not entirely accurate. I slept well and deeply until sometime after 02:00. My Traveling Partner was awake, in the other room, coughing. The coughing woke me. I went back to sleep, but from that point my sleep was shallow and interrupted, and I didn’t get much rest. I’m not even bitching, I’m just mentioning it as I sip my morning coffee and try to sort my thoughts into some kind of coherent bit of consciousness. I’m not “groggy”, exactly, just…disconnected and stupid. I’m feeling cross and out of sorts, and the morning is off to a somewhat poor start, but only because of the state of being in which I find myself. In the most practical ways, it is an ordinary Monday morning.
The font and type size look weird to me in the visual editor this morning, and I fuss with trying to figure out if they are actually different somehow, or if I “never noticed before”. There seems to be a lot of that kind of misleading bullshit going on these days; changes being made without notice to users on all sorts of apps and platforms. Updates pushing new integrated AI in a coercive involuntary way. Updates that impair user freedom and control over purchased hardware and software. Other similar shenanigans seeking to harvest just a bit more data (or money) from users. Having the cognitive quirks that I do, I definitely do notice. I dislike that I find myself trying to talk myself out of seeing what I think I’m seeing. That irritates me. I let it go altogether, because in this instance it does not matter at all that the font looks like a different one, and the type size appears smaller and more compact.
I sigh to myself. I’m vexed by pain this morning, on top of fatigue (they are ultimate related; I am less able to manage my pain when I am fatigued, and likely to feel it more intensely). I sit more upright, hoping that good posture will give me some relief.
…G’damn I’m in a shitty mood this morning…
I have The Clash “Know Your Rights” stuck in my head. In spite of making committed efforts to stay away from “the news”, I can’t help knowing that the masked government thugs besieging Minnesota have murdered another citizen, an American, a patriot, a legal-to-carry gun owner with his “paperwork in order”. His apparent crime? Well, apparently that’s not a requirement anymore, at all. The assault on our rights grows, and if it weren’t so incredibly terrifying (and depressing) I might find some measure of humor in the fact that this shit is coming from a Republican administration. It’s not about Republican and Democrat, it never has been, it is about power and greed on both sides of the aisle. Sometimes the scales tip briefly in favor of “the people”. Don’t expect it to last when it happens.
…Oh, yeah, really dreadful mood…
I cue up my playlist for trying times. I add a couple more tracks to it. I definitely don’t want to listen to pop songs or muzak this morning. My heart aches for fallen heroes, and those among us willing to speak truth to power – and pay the price. Dark days, America. Get your shit together before you lose everything.
My phone rings. Unexpected at 05:30. I answer it reflexively; I have been caregiving for a couple of years, and any time I step away from the house, I feel uneasy and alert for some need that may arise that requires me to hasten home. The voice is familiar, but I don’t place it immediately. An old friend from my years on active duty, calling to let me know he’s reached a breaking point, himself, an just… can’t. My heart pounds. (G’damn, surely he’s not calling me to tell me he’s going to end his life? I don’t think I could bear it.) No, it’s not that bad, but it’s a big enough deal that he wanted to tell someone, and somehow that someone is me. He’s moving to New Zealand. “As far as I could go away from here, before someone burns it all down,” he says. He asks me if I think he’s overreacting? I don’t think he’s overreacting at all. I might do something similar if my circumstances permitted it, and just yesterday my Traveling Partner and I were talking about maybe selling our lovely cozy home and going…somewhere else. Quieter? Fewer neighbors? More space? All of that, and a few other things besides. Maybe we will… I find myself wondering how many citizens have emigrated out of the United States since the first Trump presidency, and whether that has accelerated since he was re-elected?
My work trip to San Francisco unraveled, doesn’t much matter why, and I’m not alone in it. The winter storms have thrown transportation into chaos. Can we agree that a late January travel date for a work event was predictably short-sighted? lol
I’m realizing it is likely to be the sort of day on which I am prone to discontent and finding fault. That’s not going to be a particularly pleasant experience. I sigh to myself and ask the question “are you going to stew in it, or are you going to make a change?” It’s an important question and wants an answer. I feel myself set my jaw, full of resistance and irritation, like a kid asked to clean their room on a beautiful day. I don’t want to have to be bothered with being accountable for where I am with my experience, right now. I’d rather be peeved and pick at my grievances as if they are wounds. Ridiculous. Now I am both the woman in a bad mood, and the woman irritated by a woman choosing to be in a bad mood. lol Layers of irritability. It’s pretty silly, but acknowledging that isn’t getting me off the hook for the work involved in changing it – or the choices or practices required to do so. My black mood feels justifiable and vindicated…but it’s honestly just a bad mood. I’m in pain and I didn’t sleep well. It doesn’t need to be anything more than that.
Another sigh. Another sip of coffee. I ask myself where would I be and what might I be doing if I had the means to go anywhere at all and do anything I cared to do? Moments fill my recollection; morning coffee on the shore, or near a beach, or out among the trees in some silent ancient forest, or a quiet cafe in the 1st arrondissement in Paris… I like to enjoy my coffee with a bit of a view and some solitude in the morning. In that sense, generally speaking, I’m pretty much already doing that thing, eh? I sip my coffee grateful for the moment of perspective, even feeling a tiny bit less cross. I guess that’s progress.
When what we’re doing doesn’t work, doing something different just might. I think about that, and enjoy my coffee before the work day. Soon enough, I’ll begin again. It’s not world-changing stuff, but if I can improve this experience in some small way, that’s still an improvement.
I was surprised to see a a shooting star streak across the sky, from behind me as I drove up the highway towards the trail I would be walking. It wasn’t yet daylight, still early, quite dark, and there it was, as if leading me onward. I always wish on a shooting star. My wishes silently tumbled into one another, as I listed them in my head hurriedly, hoping to finish before the star had fallen and faded away…
…I wish I had more wisdom that I seem to, and better judgement…
…I wish people would be kinder to each other, more open to each other’s differences, more compassionate…
…I wish there were no yelling, no raised voices, no gunfire, no killings, no violence…
…I wish I’d do a better job at hurrying up and becoming the woman I most want to be – that I know I can be (with practice)…
…I wish I would listen more deeply, with greater patience, and more resilience in the face of strong emotion…
…I wish life felt simple and easy more of the time…
…I wish there more time…
…In the instant between when I spotted a shooting star passing overhead as I drove up the highway and finishing a hurried list of wishes, the star streaked forward, and began to fall, before it sort of seemed to burst like fireworks ever so briefly, like a punctuation mark at the end of a sentence, and it was gone. A fleeting moment of hope, and a wish (or two) for more, or better, or… other than what is. A futile child’s game, I know. Wishing doesn’t change reality at all. It takes much more work than that.
My walk was lovely. Nice morning for it, although it was quite cold. It’s later now. Eventually my arthritis pain caught up with my headache. Strange day. It began well. I felt quite loved, cherished, and appreciated…until suddenly I didn’t. Humans being human. It’s hard sometimes. People say unkind things they don’t mean to people very dear to them, or deliver very ordinary things in terribly unpleasant tones of voice, and all the love in the world doesn’t change that. Hurt feelings… hurt. I remind myself to “let small shit stay small” and not to take things personally. It still stings when someone dear says something hurtful. Resilience is helpful, sure, but g’damn I’d really like it to matter less. I’d like to hear the words, reflect on the message, and not have it fired at me as an emotional weapon. Or… I’d like not to feel it in that way. That’s the not taking it personally piece, and it’s a difficult practice. Human primates take so much shit so very personally.
“Emotion and Reason” 18″ x 24″ acrylic w/ceramic and glow details, 2012
Human primates are emotional creatures. We feel. Our feelings matter. The complicated bit, for me, is often simply to avoid fusing with the emotional experience of my dear one (whoever that may be in the moment) – to maintain my separate self, my own perspective, my own values and awareness and agency. Getting it right means being fully accountable for my words and my actions – if I’ve royally fucked up (or if I haven’t), and even if the person I’m talking to just doesn’t see it from the same perspective at all. How does that work? I definitely need more practice.
I could bitch more. I could go on and on about it awhile. I could remain stuck here, angry, frustrated, vexed, hurt, wishing for more or different, or for someone to fix something. That’s not how change actually works. Just sitting around wishing doesn’t change anything at all. There are verbs involved. Boundaries to be set. Limitations to be expressed. Hurt feelings to be soothed. Amends to be made. Reality gets real, sometimes, and crying about it isn’t supremely helpful (it’s just a bit of stress relief). It’s important to use my words, to speak gently, to listen deeply… sooo many verbs. Choices. Actions. I need more practice.
I’m tired and my head hurts. I remind myself this is one moment of many, and that it has been a lovely day but for one moment. I breathe, exhale, and relax, and try to keep things in perspective. The way out is through. The lessons aren’t “easy” – or there’d be nothing to learn. I give myself a moment, and then I begin again.
I slept in. I reached the trailhead as the sun cleared the horizon, and after enjoying some lovely views of Mt Hood at sunrise on my way up the highway. It is a clear cold morning, frosty and breezy.
Dawn, and the mountain in the distance.
I thought to make my way around the nature park from the less frequented trailhead tucked out of the way along the west side of the park, nearer to the river. I’d forgotten that the trail on that side is part of the seasonal route; closed until Spring. I grab a shot of the sunrise and head to the main trailhead. As late as it is, this morning, there are only a couple cars in the parking lot. It’s too cold for most walkers, though it is now a few degrees above freezing. Photographers and dedicated bird watchers still show up – and me.
I reach my halfway point, grateful for the added warmth of my gloves, scarf, and hat. I sit awhile, watching small birds hopping among the bare branches of nearby oaks. Busy morning for small birds, apparently.
Which is the distraction, the many small birds, or the tangle of branches against the blue sky?
I sit with my thoughts awhile. “Other people’s drama”, mostly, pulling my focus from what I need for and from myself most. The amount of emotional energy any one of us has to put into supporting, avoiding, addressing, healing, resolving, soothing, or staying out of such things is sometimes pretty fucking ridiculous (and draining). We inflict it on ourselves through social media, we find it forced upon us in our relationships, we create it in some moment of frustration, disappointment, or misunderstanding. It’s all very messy and annoying. We could do better. Unfortunately, emotional intelligence, critical thinking, conflict resolution, and healthy communication practices are rarely explicitly taught as part of mainstream curriculum (definitely not in the US), and many of us only notice the lack in our own life and development when we finally breakdown to the point of getting (and accepting) real help. Most of us just get by on a DIY approach, changing problematic behavior only after it destroys some important relationship, or after our life “falls apart” as a consequence of our shitty behavior or lack of emotional control.
“Feel what you’re feeling, do what is right,” a monster used to say to me. (I didn’t realize then that through other eyes I might be viewed as a monster, myself. PTSD is a relentless adversary, and hurt people do hurt people.) I can’t say I learned many good lessons in that relationship – and I’m lucky to have escaped with my life. This phrase has continued to stick in my memory. It’s an important idea about choice and values and free will and could have been really useful guidance if I’d had more understanding of my emotional experience in the first place, or if I’d had a more clear understanding of what I thought was “right”, and where I stood in relation to my values. It is more useful now, however regrettable the source.
Human beings, being human. It’s complicated. Sometimes some pretty important basics elude us until we’ve made a mess of our lives completely. Sometimes we just don’t accept guidance we’re offered. People are complicated. We’re each having our own experience, but often behaving as though we have shared perspective, values, and understanding of circumstances – even though we barely manage to communicate clearly. Often we aren’t even listening to the Other, we’re just wary, defensive, and waiting to talk. We could definitely do better.
Who do you most want to be? How will you be remembered by those who matter to you most?
I sit listening to the wind blow. It’s a different experience with the hearing aids in. I ask myself what steps I would take to improve a valued but contentious relationship if it were critical to preserve and deepen that relationship? What would I tell a friend if asked? I think I’d begin with utterly basic practices, starting with the Four Agreements. (Nevermind mind the “woo”, these are really effective basic practices.) I might also suggest:
Be sincerely curious – ask questions from a place of goodwill.
Listen deeply.
Assume positive intent.
Remind yourself why this person and relationship matter to you.
Behave with kindness.
Do not escalate.
I know. Not the easiest list of practical suggestions. Feasible with practice, but so many verbs and opportunities for failure. It can be really hard to pause in some moment of temper and say in an honest and vulnerable way “hold on, I want a do-over on this conversation, this is not how I mean to behave.” Practice will result in incremental changes over time. No guarantees that people dear to you will stick around while you struggle to become the person you most want to be. Use your words. Do your best.
… You’ll definitely have to do the work involved in being a better version of yourself, all on your own…
…Yes, it’s real work, and a lot of it.
I guess I’m just saying, things are sometimes challenging in these human relationships. It can seem so unreasonable to have to work so hard at them. It can be so worth it! Do your best – and when you fail (and you will), take a breath, apologize sincerely for the harm you may have done, and begin again.
Evening Light 