Archives for category: Frustration

Self-care matters. How can you cope with what life is going to throw at you without taking care of your physical body or nurturing your good heart? How do you keep practicing without adequate rest and good nutrition? How can you heal from trauma or bounce back from a trying moment without caring for yourself? The answer isn’t new information; you can’t. I mean, maybe for a short while you’d manage, but over the long haul?

Practice good self-care.

Even in the midst of chaos, make a point to take time to rest.

Things are pretty intense lately, and probably for a few more days (maybe weeks) to come. Juggling work, caregiving, and the requirements of maintaining a household is complicated, fraught with potential for miscommunication and missteps, and just fucking difficult. It is chaotic and emotionally challenging. Maintaining a sense of calm and optimism is hard. Sometimes it feels very “personal”, but reason tells me it’s not personal at all. Just really really hard.

I often feel as if I am not up to the challenges I am facing. I remain wholly committed to doing my best, moment to moment, though I recognize that it sometimes isn’t enough. I avoid lashing out when I am feeling hurt, frustrated, or angry – there’s nothing to be gained from that kind of reaction right now. My results vary, and I keep on practicing. I refrain from “venting” my anger or frustration; the science is in on that (it doesn’t help and tends to increase how quickly a person becomes angry, and how intensely, over time). It’s incredibly difficult to maintain this level of self-discipline in the face of the present challenges.

… I keep practicing…

Eventually this too will pass. I don’t know what the future holds, and I can’t see the path ahead clearly, but I keep walking, literally and metaphorically. I keep practicing the practices that have helped me become the person I am, and which continue to lead me down the path of becoming the person I most want to be. Incremental change over time is a process. 

Right now self-care is keeping me from completely losing my way and descending into chaos. It doesn’t always feel like enough, but it’s something. I am relying on it.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. For a few minutes I can simply walk, and breathe, and reflect. Where does this path lead? I watch the sun rise. I listen to the birds, squirrels and chipmunks start their day. I notice the pain I’m in. I only give it enough attention to take care of it; self-care matters. I take my medication on time trying to “stay ahead of the pain”. I keep walking.

A lot of our chaos, pain, and hardship is created by our own efforts or thinking. I do my best to avoid making up shit to be stressed or angry about. I just don’t need the additional emotional burden, ever really, and especially right now. I breathe and let shit go. I walk and practice forgiveness and gratitude. I remind myself “this too will pass”…

… and I just keep walking…

Another breath, another moment, another sunrise; another chance to begin again.

Sometimes, regardless of your attempted attention to detail, your willingness to do more, better, your drive to improve and grow, or the hours of work and study you’ve put into being your best self, it won’t be enough (for someone, or for some circumstance). That’s frustrating (maddening), and real. It’s a harsh truth in life that while we’re walking our own hard mile one step at a time, someone else is also walking theirs, and conflict, confusion, or miscommunication can make just about any endeavor contentious and unpleasant. Humans being human. Some people are truly doing their best. Some people maybe not so much. It’s not really obvious which are which. There’s likely always going to be someone around who just doesn’t think you’re doing enough. There will be someone who thinks you’re doing it “wrong” (often simply because you’re not doing things the way they would). There may even be travelers along the way who earnestly hope to see you fail, though it will be rare for them to say so explicitly.

…We’re each having our own experience…

Points of view differ. Individual perspectives on shared events are sometimes at odds with each other. Personal values may not be shared. People are quite individual, and often we don’t even share the same understanding of the basic meanings of the most common words we use. Recollections of even the most recent events may be quite different among individuals who shared the experience. None of this makes communication easier, quite the contrary.

It can be helpful sometimes, I find, to be very open to the possibility that I’m incorrect. Mistaken. Flat out wrong. It’s helpful to really listen to what someone else is saying about their experience or perspective. This isn’t always easy; I may disagree. I may find my own thinking at odds with theirs. I may recall events quite differently. We may have different values, or place importance on different details. Being open enough to really listen and humble enough to accept that I could be wrong can make a lot of difference and create an emotionally safe environment to sort things out more easily. It takes practice (a lot), and I can’t honestly say I’m “good at it” (yet). I keep practicing.

All of this sounds good “on paper”, but it’s not “easy”, and it really does take a lot of practice, commitment, willingness to fail (and to begin again), and a steadfast refusal to take someone else’s emotions personally, and to refuse to internalize their frustration, anger, or criticism. Listen, yes. Hear them out, yes. Understand their point of view, yes. Be open and compassionate, yes. And refuse to allow their frustration, anger, or criticism to dictate “who you are”, nonetheless. Be the person you most want to be. Make room for them to be who they are, also. Becoming the best version of yourself, the person you most want to be, may bring you into conflict with people who are walking a very different path – their own path. Whatever you choose to do about that, it matters that you still live your values, take care of yourself, and treat people with kindness, compassion, and consideration.

…You’re probably going to fail, a lot…

Keep practicing. Savor the wins, however small. Learn from your mistakes, and avoid allowing them to bring you to despair. This shit isn’t easy, but it’s worthwhile. Change takes time. Time, practice, effort, commitment – and beginning again. Often. Sometimes it’s especially hard, like a barefooted walk on blistered feet down a gravel path. Sometimes it’s easy, like a firm level trail through a sun-dappled forest on a mild summer day. You’ll choose – sometimes poorly. You’ll face anger, frustration, disappointment, and grief. It’s not personal, just part of the human experience. Learn, grow, and walk on.

I sit sipping my coffee, re-reading these words. This one’s for me, from… me. I need the encouragement today, tomorrow, maybe always. It helps to reflect on what works, and to remind myself that it is a complicated journey. It is useful to consider missteps, and to learn and grow, and try again.

Keep walking.

Yesterday my sister messaged me to let me know a favorite aunt had died after a lingering illness. (COVID is still taking lives, people, be safe, be considerate, be vaccinated.) It seems like I’m now in a place in life when the losses come more frequently. We are mortal creatures. I will always remember my Aunt fondly. She opened her home to me more than once when I needed a place to heal. She was peculiar, and special, and interesting, and the first adult who would sit and talk with me for hours about all manner of things, into the wee hours of the morning. Some of who I am developed sitting by her kitchen table in Baltimore on summer evenings, talking about life, love, music, reality… I’ll miss her.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I don’t know what’s around the next bend on this path. I don’t know how far this path goes, or where it may ultimately lead. I don’t know how long this mortal life will last, or how many moments of joy I can wring from it along the way, nor how many tears I may need to dry from my cheeks. It’s a very human journey.

…It’s time to begin again…

New day, new beginning.

I’m drinking my coffee and catching up on work. It feels an eternity since I’ve logged into work tools, but it’s been more or less a long weekend, just busy and about as far removed from my professional work as it could possibly be. Feels strange, and oddly comforting to be back to work.

My headache woke with me, and it is ferocious this morning. My sleep was interrupted at scheduled intervals through the night to provide my Traveling Partner with care as he recovers from his surgery. The surgery went well. So far the recovery is going well, too, it seems. It’s complicated by volatile emotions on all sides, and the quantity of potentially mind-altering prescription drugs involved doesn’t make that “easier”, at all. Whether tempers or tears, when feelings flare up and escalate, I keep finding my way (unsteadily, awkwardly, doggedly) back to some sort of calm – which feels like progress. I don’t think I could have managed this as well as I am ten years ago. I bet I could manage it better another 10 years from now. Progress. Incremental change over time. We become what we practice.

…I’ll say that one again, because it’s super super important; we become what we practice. If your default is tears, tantrums, and drama, I promise you’ll get very skilled at those behaviors, and those will be the increasingly common outcomes. If you practice calm, you become calm. It’s that simple. (Which is not to say that it is “easy” – it’s isn’t easy at all, and it requires a lot of practice, and persistence.) For me, the hardest part is breaking old habitual behaviors and reactions. I’ve become pretty hard to provoke in the context of my professional life, which is great. I’m often still quite vulnerable to provocation in the context of intimate relationships. (That’s probably pretty commonplace.) Lately, all of it is further complicated by this fucking headache that follows me everywhere.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I’ve taken my meds, had a big glass of water, and I’ve got this excellent cup of coffee. No walk today, which feels weird, but I need to be here at specific times to care for my Traveling Partner. I’m tired – it’s something to be mindful of, because it holds the risk of volatility as my fatigue deepens later in the day. Maybe I’ll get a walk in later? I notice that my thoughts are less than ideally well organized. I’m distracted by my headache, and by my awareness that my partner is in the other room; I’m alert for the sound of his voice expressing a need or a want, or some opportunity to provide him with support. Competing priorities on top of this headache and my fatigue…I could be a mess right now, but I think I’m mostly okay, which is nice to be able to count on, today.

Don’t forget to slow down and enjoy the journey.

Sometimes it feels like the journey from hell to some better place is endless…but…so much of this human experience is relative. I think back on other experiences, other days, other moments. I reflect on the Parable of the Mire. It wasn’t all that long ago that I was truly mired, myself. It has been a long journey – a worthy journey. A “heroes journey”, in a sense. I mean…I am having my own experience, and this is my journey, my tale, my adventure. I have another sip of coffee and think another thought. I reflect on the “wrong notes” and recent missteps, and what I could have done differently. I rehearse “better” (more desirable) behavior in my head, playing out dialogue that went wrong with different words, different reactions, “practicing” different “scripts” for better results more closely aligned with my values, hoping to do a better job of being the woman I most want to be “next time” (there’s always a next time). I remind myself that it isn’t all about me, and that I can’t control the behavior or reactions of others. I think about the importance of non-attachment, and the risk of becoming “fused” with someone else’s emotional experience, and how best to avoid that risk.

…We become what we practice…

…Fuck, I hope the typing doesn’t prevent my partner getting the rest he needs (it’s a pretty quiet keyboard, though)…

I take a moment to think about recent successes. Small things like my Traveling Partner thanking me for good caregiving matter a lot, and they add up over time. I think, too, about progress toward personal goals, like losing some weight (20lbs or so now), and clearing my task list. I give myself some time to sit with successes, joys, and pleasant recollections. (A useful practice for building a more positive general experience and attitude toward life.)

I put my focus back on work. It’s time to begin again.

I’ve spent the day relaxing in this quiet room, and providing my Traveling Partner with caregiving. It’s detail-oriented personal service work, providing care to this human being I love so deeply. Still, it has been a day with ample time for reflecting on life and love and what I have learned along the way.

Here are 61 lessons from my mortal lifetime thus far:

  1. There’s always something more to learn.
  2. Change is a constant.
  3. Zest for life is closely tied to experiences of wonder and awe.
  4. Self-care matters.
  5. Meditation is an effective practice.
  6. We become what we practice.
  7. We each have the power to define success for ourself.
  8. Setting boundaries is a self-care practice.
  9. Our values are not what we say they are; they are what we live and practice.
  10. Taking the time to do something well is reliably more efficient than having to do it more than once.
  11. Anxiety is a liar.
  12. Chasing happiness does not result in greater happiness.
  13. Lust is mostly a matter of biology.
  14. Savoring life’s small joys and making time for gratitude builds emotional resilience.
  15. Human primates operate “emotion first”.
  16. Our quality of life is more dependent on the quality of our relationships than the size of our paychecks.
  17. Assumptions are not facts.
  18. Expectations are not facts.
  19. Opinions are not facts.
  20. Beliefs are not facts.
  21. The catchiness of a slogan has no bearing on its truth or usefulness.
  22. Very few of life’s stressful moments have lasting impact.
  23. I probably need to drink more water.
  24. “Wealth” is relative.
  25. The person who throws the punch doesn’t get to decide whether it hurt.
  26. We are each having our own experience.
  27. A lot of the crap that bothers us most is shit we totally made up in our own heads that has no actual basis in reality.
  28. Self-reflection can help develop perspective.
  29. Rumination can be really damaging, and tends to limit perspective.
  30. The difference between rumination and self-reflection can be subtle.
  31. Emotional intelligence has real-world value.
  32. Getting enough rest is as important as drinking water, eating healthy food, and exercise.
  33. Solitude can be rich, beautiful, satisfying, and nurturing.
  34. Few people recognize their own confrontational, hostile, angry, or escalated tone of voice.
  35. Forgiving someone is a thing we do for ourself, not for the person being forgiven.
  36. People notice when someone isn’t paying attention.
  37. Distracted driving is potentially lethal.
  38. What we think we understand about human behavior isn’t reliably accurate, and can’t be assumed to apply to all people in every circumstance. It doesn’t.
  39. People are people.
  40. We’re all in this together.
  41. The journey is the destination.
  42. Your lived experience is yours. My lived experience is not yours.
  43. How you behave when you think no one is watching will tell you what your values truly are.
  44. Rationalizing poor behavior doesn’t make the behavior any better.
  45. We feel our own pain the most.
  46. Our ability to understand the world is limited by our perspective.
  47. Being a dick to people is a poor practice with predictably poor outcomes.
  48. Thriving and surviving are two very different experiences.
  49. Reading is an incredibly useful skill, the benefits of which are multiplied by enjoying it.
  50. Art is a way of expressing the things we don’t have words for.
  51. Language functions by agreement.
  52. Carefully defining the terms in a discussion prevents a lot of arguments and misunderstandings.
  53. Apologizing without sincere contrition isn’t really an apology.
  54. Apologizing while making excuses for how the offense is justified, understandable, or must be overlooked isn’t really an apology.
  55. An effective apology is 100% focused on the person hurt and how they were affected, and 0% about how the offender feels about it.
  56. Listening deeply is a powerful relationship building tool which takes time, practice, and effort to develop.
  57. Hijacking a conversation to talk about yourself instead is rude.
  58. Waiting for a turn to talk while someone else is talking is rude.
  59. Interrupting someone while they are speaking is rude
  60. Manners and civility are key to quality of life and cultured society.
  61. Life is worth living.

It’s not science. These are things I’ve learned myself, over a lifetime. I’m not even saying these observations and learnings are “all there is” (what would you add?)… these are just a few things I’ve learned that continue to serve me well.

It’s your journey, up ahead. I’m over here walking my own path. May your path be smooth and the way ahead illuminated.

Every sunrise is a chance to begin again.

I’m sitting at the trailhead. I meant to be walking, but as I set off, my right leg buckled at the knee. I didn’t fall; I had my cane in my hand and steadied myself… but for the moment, I don’t trust my legs. Life, too, feels suddenly unsteady and unpredictable. I mean, I guess that makes sense; it is.

My thoughts careen through my consciousness. I didn’t sleep well last night. My Traveling Partner needed care during the night and woke me. I was groggy and stupid and not very helpful. I didn’t understand what was needed. Hell, I barely understood where I was in the first place. When my worthless efforts were abruptly dismissed, I attempted to return to sleep… It was nightmares, pain, and wakefulness from there. Less than ideal for the day ahead, which I took off from work to care for my Traveling Partner as he recovers from surgery. My consciousness is scattered, fragmented, and chaotic. I’m tired and fragile.

… I’m also doing my best…

I remind myself that this is only a moment. Temporary. It will pass, and change is. Nonetheless I feel low, beat down, and sorrowful. I’m tired and triggered, reminded of a time long ago and a very different earlier relationship, from which I am grateful to have escaped alive. This isn’t that, it’s just a challenging time and sometimes it’s hard to do the needful sufficiently well. I feel grateful for so many other things – I focus on the gratitude, the positives, and the kind, gracious and appreciative words my partner has shared over recent months. I breathe, exhale, and relax.

… Some things in life just aren’t about me at all…

My tinnitus rings loudly in my ears. My head aches. I observe the discomfort and let my mind move on. It doesn’t alleviate my pain to do so, it just prevents me from making my pain my whole world, for a little while, sometimes. My results vary.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I sit quietly wondering what the future may hold, and where this path leads. I consider and reconsider what I really want in life, and contemplate whether the path ahead of me leads to that outcome at all… There are things I’d like to change. There are things I regret saying or doing (and not saying or not doing). It’s a very human journey.

… I think quietly about my Traveling Partner on this journey…

My partner pings me, frustrated, tired, and hurting. He can’t sleep and struggles to find any way to be comfortable after surgery. He’s pretty hard to live with right now (understandable), and has insisted that both the Anxious Adventurer and I leave so he can rest. We reluctantly do. What else can we do?

… Fucking hell, caregiving is hard

I sit quietly, recalling my Traveling Partner before his injury, before his pain became unmanageable. I think about him – and us – in the “beginning”. I wonder how to go about restoring that beautiful vibe, and wonder if it will slowly return because it’s who we are and how we love, or if life has changed us “too much” over time and circumstances? I remind myself, too, that my mood and thinking are colored by recent events and present fatigue and stress. I breathe and let go.

I make room for gratitude, and think about things that have gone well. Doing this is often enough to lift me out of a funk, maybe it will today?

…In any case, I definitely need to begin again.