Archives for category: Frustration
« Older Entries

All Those Yesterdays

November 9, 2026 //
0

My sleep was interrupted and uneasy. Strange dreams were only part of it. I had intended to change the linens on the bed over the weekend, and didn’t (between Saturday’s arguing and Sunday’s pain I didn’t have it in me at all).

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

… My Traveling Partner woke me during the night, sleepless, vexed and wanting fresh linens. I got up and changed the linens, remade the bed, and went back to sleep. Further discussion of any sort would only have served to prolong the interruption of my own sleep…

Fucking hell I am tired this morning. It is what it is. I step out of the car in the predawn darkness, grab my cane and stuff a pack of travel tissues into my pocket. Good enough. I set off down the trail briskly. Well, as briskly as I can manage this morning. I’m halted several times by sneezing fits. I pause and deal with it, before walking on.

I think about the weekend as I walk. My mind wanders to life, work, love, art… I am grateful for the life I have lived, rich in experience. I contemplate my growth and change over the years. I think about Plato’s Cave, and the Ship of Theseus. I consider all the yesterdays that have brought me here, as surely as steps on this trail will take me around the vineyard and back to the car…

… Am I there yet? Am I the woman I most want to be? (Short answer, no, not yet.) And who exactly decides who she is? Well, that’d be 100% all me, although there are plenty of non-me entities that would like to have some influence over that vision. (Thanks, I’ve got this.) I consider myself fortunate; I may not have an easy relationship with the woman I have been, but I have a clear understanding of who I most want to be. Though that can present occasional challenges, when it turns out someone else wants (or expects me to want) some completely different set of characteristics or thinking, and I don’t seem ready to comply. Awkward. I will persist in walking my own path. I am my own cartographer. This life is mine.

I get to my halfway point and stop. I breathe, exhale, and relax. The morning is mild. No rain. Overcast sky. Daybreak comes gently and I almost miss the moment, lost in a contemplative reverie. The autumn air smells of distant wood fires and fallen leaves.

One of the most difficult lessons I have found in life is learning to accept that we are “each having our own experience”. Hell, we can’t even be certain if we see each of the colors we can name as precisely the same as what another person sees. We sort of trust that pink is pink when we see it, and that another person seeing it recognizes it. We don’t really know what it was they saw, only that they also call it “pink”.

I watch daybreak turning the sky from night’s deepest black to a dark blue gray. The trees are silhouetted, black shapes, indistinct aside from their outline against the paler sky. I love this moment, the tipping point between night and day. Every sunrise is a new beginning. A chance to walk on from what has not worked, on a path to change – it feels full of promise and potential, every time.

I sit with my thoughts awhile longer, reflecting on the power and the purpose of having a sense of who I most want to be. Thinking over life’s vast menu. I think about all the days and decisions that brought me here, to this particular Monday, feeling that I’m still only midway on this journey, and that there is further to go.

I sigh and stretch. I feel reluctant to let the weekend fall away into the past and walk on. There is more to learn and understand. I’m just tired of walking, maybe. (It’s a metaphor.) I breathe, exhale, and relax. I sit with my thoughts, eyeing the path ahead. Soon enough, I’ll have to begin again.

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, The Art of Being, The Big 5, women, Words

The Way Things Are Going

November 8, 2026 //
0

I woke feeling angry following a night of terrible dreams and repeatedly waking to find that I had pulled off my CPAP mask in my sleep, again. (I say “again”, but it is quite uncommon generally. Last night was unusual.)

Note: I notice after I finish this, it’s mostly fairly pointless bitching about physical pain and this shitty mood I’m in. Maybe you’d prefer to skip it? Figured I’d give you that chance right up front.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

I woke angry, yes, and I also woke aware that I “wasn’t feeling like myself” in some fashion. As I reflect on the experience, my suspicion is that the combination of yesterday afternoon with my Traveling Partner (fraught with contentious angry conversation) on top of not taking a opiod painkiller this morning, is the root cause of my irritable mood. Bad moods, like bad dreams, are temporary, fleeting, and I know they will pass. In the meantime, I’m sitting irritably by the side of this favorite trail, content with the solitude and darkness, and definitely okay with not being around anyone else right now.

My tinnitus is shrieking loudly in my head. The high pitched whine and cicada-like buzz are more than usually annoying. My osteoarthritis is raging up my spine from its origin near my fusion, and climbing vertebrae by vertebrae from about T13 to the base of my skull. It has taken it 40 years to make that journey, one inflamed crunchy joint at a time, over years. Yeah, if you think arthritis is exclusively a disease of aging, you would be mistaken. Each year, the pain is the worst where it is the newest development. I guess I’m grateful I still have a few joints that are not obviously arthritic. Was it last year or the year before that it got to my collar bone? (I know, right? I didn’t know that was a thing until it happened!)

… This year the slow progression of my osteoarthritis reached my thumbs, that first joint, where the thumb connects to the hand. The pain is remarkable. I have no words to describe it. Some days, it robs me of my ability to hold a pen, a pastel, or do anything much that requires a grip.

… What a downer, I know…

Daybreak comes. So far I have managed to beat the rain. It followed me up the highway, and stopped shortly after I arrived at the trailhead. I have the trail to myself. I’m glad. I honestly don’t want to deal with people at all, this morning. No errands to run, and I’ll stretch this morning time out as long as practical, to give my beloved some wakeup time before subjecting him to my pain and my shitty mood.. I will probably duck into my studio and paint, while my hands permit it.

How long will I still be able to paint, and what comes after that? I sigh to myself. Slow tears slide down my face. I don’t know what they are really about; this morning is hard. I pay them no attention, I allow them to fall.

“This just in; middle-aged woman sobs by the side of a lonely marsh trail on a rainy autumn morning. It isn’t very interesting. Back to you.” 😆

… I still have my sense of humor, such as it is (which is, generally, not actually funny to anyone else, but it will suffice)…

Look, some of this angsty bullshit is almost frighteningly mundane. Emotional baggage combined with chronic pain, fear of losing my ability to paint (and the sad  feeling that it may be inevitable), on top of a difficult night, and not taking an opiod this morning (after taking them for several days) seems like a lot to deal with – it would be an incredible stroke of good luck if I didn’t feel like hell this morning in one way or another. That it feels like “all the ways I could feel like crap” is unfortunate, but not my first time dealing with it. I breathe, exhale, and relax. Part of good self-care is taking a minute to observe, acknowledge, and let go. No, it isn’t easy, but it is a shorter path to feeling better again than… not.

… Still gotta do the verbs. PT stretches. Healthy exercise. Regular medications on time. Meditation. A shower, clean clothes, healthy calories. Drink water. Be present. Be kind to myself. Rest when I need rest. Ask for help when I need help. Accept that these mortal bodies are only good for so much. Do what I can, and do my best, and only that.

… And paint. While I am able. Less fucking bitching, more g’damned painting. 😂

I watch the ducks and geese floating on the marsh ponds. The ponds have begun to refill with autumn rains. The meadow is becoming marshy again. I sit enjoying the solitude awhile, grateful for the unseasonably warm weather, and the pause in the rain. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I’ll just enjoy this moment, here, now, until it is time to begin again.

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, art and the artist, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, The Art of Being, women, Words

Something About Monday

November 2, 2026 //
0

I’m awake. New day. New week, too. Halloween was jolly fun. It already seems like awhile ago, and I guess it was, for some measures of time.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

I meant to spend more time in the studio yesterday. I chose mostly to hang out with my Traveling Partner while he built an antenna for our radios that could easily be deployed or taken down by one person. The weekend was generally a pleasant one, with some ups and downs.

I get to the halfway point on my morning walk still thinking about the weekend. G’damn I’d rather be sleeping right now. I sigh to myself, still grateful to see another day, even from this leading edge of morning. I rub my hands, as if to spread the heat of my arthritic thumbs to the rest of my hands. Chilly morning.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. November already. Did you vote? It’s time, eh? It really does matter.

The sky overhead is cloudy. No stars to see. The oaks are silhouetted sharply against the sky. Daybreak soon. I get comfortable on this rock adjacent to the trail. The discomfort that shifts me isn’t about the rock, and it would not matter where I choose to sit this morning; the discomfort is me. This mortal body has taken a fair bit of damage over the years. I carry the pain and discomfort with me, everywhere. I guess I should be grateful for the variety 😆. This morning, it is  something like sciatica, down my left leg, which is annoying, but nothing like the pain of my headaches.

…Oh, hey, no the headache yet today! Wow. That’s rare. I take a moment to really appreciate it…

“Tangerine Sunrise” 5″ x 7″, pastels on pastelbord, 2026.

I sit reflecting with some frustration on the dissatisfying creative work this weekend. It’s fine. Nothing like the extreme frustration my Traveling Partner endured working on the antenna project (which was such that it drove me from the house to do shopping that could have waited), but enough to be vexing. I contemplate the idea of reworking the piece I am most irked with. I rarely do “corrections”, but when I have it has resulted in some amazing art. I wonder why I fight that, then? The process of reworking a painting that has “failed” is useful (both in practical terms, and as a metaphor). Humans are weird.

… Sometimes we resist doing the thing we know works best…

A light comes bobbing down the trail. I turn on my headlamp to avoid startling the approaching walker. I rarely see anyone else on this trail so early. No dog, either. The stranger makes a point of shining their light right at me as they near. Oh, of course; a cop. There’s a sheriff’s station in the museum, so I’m not really surprised. I say “good morning” cheerfully. The officer lowers their light and replies “early to be out here, isn’t it?” I agree that it is early, adding that I enjoy watching the sun rise before work, and getting a walk in before the work day begins is a great fitness practice. He agrees, thanks me for my time, and urges me to stay safe as he turns to continue down the trail.

I get comfortable, again, as much as I can. I meditate. I breathe. I sit quietly listening to the sounds of an autumn Monday. I don’t know what’s next today. That’s okay, too. I get to my feet and stretch. I prepare to begin, again.

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories 2024 Election, Allegories, art and the artist, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, Healthy Living, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, The Art of Being

Tips From a Friend

October 12, 2026 //
0

Here it is Monday, again. I’ll admit, my enthusiasm is seriously limited by the pain I’m in. It is what it is, I guess.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

I re-read the article my Traveling Partner shared with me, yesterday and think about it as I walk. It’s a cold morning, but not freezing. Today I remembered to dress warmly. I walk down the trail in the darkness, thinking my thoughts.

The article my beloved shared with me includes some excellent tips for clear communication, practices that (when practiced) really work:

    Active Listening: Practice active listening by putting your own opinions aside and genuinely trying to understand the other person’s perspective. Reflecting back on their thoughts and feelings can help establish a sense of empathy and build rapport.

    Empathy and Validation: Recognize and validate the emotions and concerns expressed by the other person. Acknowledging their experiences, even if you disagree with their viewpoints, can create a more receptive atmosphere for any discussion.

    Calm and Respectful Tone: Maintaining a calm and respectful tone and avoiding personal attacks or derogatory language can make a huge difference. By keeping emotions in check, you can foster a more constructive dialogue and prevent further escalation.

    Find Common Ground: Look for shared values, objectives, or aspirations that might serve as a foundation for getting to a common ground. Highlighting areas of agreement can help bridge the gap between differing perspectives.

    Ask Open-Ended Questions: Encourage deeper reflection and exploration by asking about things that invite the other person to speak out their thoughts. This approach can promote self-reflection and potentially lead to a more nuanced understanding.

Good tips. Profoundly good, and like chess,  the basics are so basic one might miss how difficult it might be to master. It is necessary to do the verbs. Worth the work that goes into it. Barring some clinical condition that might get in the way, this is a fantastic starting point for close connected communication and conflict resolution. I walk thinking about change.

This morning my head aches. My arthritis is giving me grief, too, in that very specific way that I associate with cold mornings. It seems worst in my thumbs, and my neck, places where it is a more recent development. I walk briskly this morning in spite of pain. It’s too chilly to stroll.

I get to my halfway point fairly quickly and stop, write a few words, reflect on the challenges of the weekend (and the moments of joy), and meditate under the stars. What peculiar mortal lives these are, and so brief…

Untitled pastel, 2026

I think I’d like to spend more time in my studio this week. I have a lot on my mind, and some of it I just don’t have words for. I sigh to myself, rubbing my hands together briskly in the cold. It’s time to begin again.

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, grief, health, inspiration, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, The Art of Being, The Big 5, War and News of War, women, Words

Seeing Red

October 11, 2026 //
0

I have an anger problem. Just saying that in such a simple way makes me deeply anxious.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

I’m not certain quite when I became fully aware that I have a problem with anger. Sometime during my first marriage, maybe. Once my violent ex-husband had broken me, the coping skills that functioned as a frozen and inauthentic fake of emotional regulation went to pieces in a frightening way (for me). It was surreal and terrifying to really lose control, and in that loss of control, I became the bad guy. I mean, that was his narrative at the time. It was me. My fault, he’d tell me.

Many many years of therapy later, I understand better, but… I’m still left with an anger problem, and I haven’t done the needful to really sort it out. I squash it, and try to make it small. That hasn’t helped. I know, factually, that “the way out is through” but actually walking that hard mile terrifies me. So I keep dodging it.

“Seeing Red” pastel on Pastelmat 7″ x 9″, 2026

…Aaaand, since I’m not unpacking my own terrifying anger, I certainly can’t easily cope with, accept, understand, or make space for my Traveling Partner’s anger, however reasonable. So…yeah; I’ve got an anger problem. It’s my anger that I’ve got the problem with, but the result of not dealing with it has rendered me prone to being incredibly easily triggered by any anger at all.

“Anxiety” 10″ x 14″ acrylic on canvas w/ceramic 2011

Anger and anxiety have some sort of reciprocal arrangement. When I’m already anxious, being exposed to explicit displays of anger or aggressive posturing put me on the defensive, quickly, then mire me in panic. In more than one relationship this was used against me in a deliberate strategic way. I did eventually learn that love doesn’t behave that way. That life lesson ended a long-term relationship of more than a decade. I remember the way my Traveling Partner (a close friend at that time) helped me through it. I remember how shocked and puzzled I was that violence had erupted on the evening that would be the last of that relationship, out of nowhere, in a relationship that had never known violence before.

… I sit with that assessment realizing it might be viewed quite differently by my ex…

… I still carry the emotional scars; I respond to anger first with terror. I no longer know what might follow the terror. It’s been a long time since I’ve ever been pushed beyond the terror (and I hope I sort this out before I ever am)…

I sit with my thoughts in the autumn sunshine. My chest aches and my heart is still pounding. I feel as if I’m fighting for air to breathe. I remind myself that’s the physical experience of panic. Breathe. Just breathe. I hear the encouragement in my beloved’s voice. The breakdown of our harmonious communication was surely on me. Baggage, compounding brain damage. It used to feel easier, then I started working towards healing, for real. Now it isn’t so easy; I am accountable for my actions and my words. I’m responsible for the hurt they may deliver. It’s rough. A lot of work. I make a lot of mistakes. (I imagine I’m very hard to live with.) Authentic connected intimate communication between loving equals is not effortless, and faking it does not work.

“Emotion and Reason” 18″ x 24″ acrylic w/ceramic and glow details, 2012

I guess I’ve got to begin again, and start really dealing with my anger. It’s time. The clock is ticking. These mortal lives are too brief to waste on anger, but ignoring it or trying to stifle it isn’t the way forward. I squint into the sun, but can’t see past the bend in the path up ahead. I breathe, exhale, and repeat, focusing on my breathing. My beloved sent me an article he suggests may be helpful. Definitely time to begin again.

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, art and the artist, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, grief, meditation, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, The Big 5, women
« Older Entries