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What’s Really Holding You Back?

May 11, 2024 //
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I’m sitting at the trailhead,  having just finished my walk. I feel relaxed, comfortable, and accomplished; 3 miles in one hour. This was an important bit of “backsliding” in my general fitness I was eager to overcome. It’s taken awhile and required a lot of persistence and new beginnings. My bad ankle generally begins to ache noticeably around one mile mark, these days. My fitness being what it has become, by the time I get myself two miles down a trail, my back is often aching, too. I still want to go on, but some days it’s hard to push past the inconvenience of my pain. I don’t want pain to make all my decisions and determine all my limits. I’ve got a lot of living still ahead of me at 60.

Sunrise on a misty morning.

When I headed down the trail, the sunrise had inflamed the morning horizon with fiery hues of peach and orange, and Mt Hood was silhouetted against that bold background, still and dark and large on the horizon. Every picture I took of that vibrant scene somehow diminished it. I stopped trying and just stood watching for a while.

Mists on the marsh.

As I crested a low hill near a favorite stopping point, the view of the marsh below, mists clinging to the meadow grasses and the water spread across my view. What a gorgeous morning to be on this trail! I  don’t have it all to myself this morning, and that’s not a surprise. Pleasant summery sort of morning on a Spring weekend? Of course there are other people here, most of them with fancy camera gear, heading to those favorite spots for capturing a view or for bird watching. Nice morning for it.

Lupines in bloom.

I pass by a hillside covered in lupines. The lupines in my garden are this same variety of wild lupines indigenous in this area. Mine are not yet blooming; they have more shade than these on this sunny hillside.

I  walk with my thoughts and my pain. I listen to the thoughts, and mostly disregard the pain. This pain, particularly,  has nothing much to teach me, beyond the resolve to overcome it. My thoughts on the other hand? My thoughts are as a playground for my spirit this morning. I walk and think, and consider the things in my life that may be holding me back, and what choices, changes, or practices could make the most positive difference…? The thinking, ideally, precedes the actions. lol I find value in self-reflection and “rational meditation”.

…In spite of the beauty of the morning, my thoughts this morning are mostly pretty practical…

The rising sun, a fitting metaphor.

As I turn back down the trail the way I came, I catch a glimpse of the rising sun. It illuminates the heights of the big oaks trees. I fill my lungs with the fresh morning air as I walk. The day ahead is filled with promise. The warmer weather is pleasantly encouraging, and I think about my upcoming camping trip. It would be nice if this weather continues.

…I think about getting into the garden…

I reach the car and notice the parking lot is quite full now for so early. I’m glad I took the less traveled trail! There’s new signage in the park, cautioning “no running” and “no dogging”… I chuckle, fairly certain that the intention is to indicate dogs are not allowed… but… “dogging” has a specific other meaning in English slang, and although I am certain that activity is also prohibited, I’m equally certain it’s not the intended meaning. lol

…What a lovely morning for new beginnings…

I feel the sun warm on my face. I sit sipping my coffee, listening to birdsong, and the traffic on the highway beyond the park. Loud voices of rude humans interrupt my reverie – maybe they’ll just go away? No. I  guess I will, then. lol

It’s time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, turning 60

Sun Shining in My Eyes

May 10, 2024 //
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This morning the sun is shining in my eyes, though I’ve lowered the window shades to cut the glare. The season continues to evolve, Spring towards summer, and here I am with the sun in my eyes on a lovely Spring morning. I’m grateful. I don’t even mind the sun in my eyes. 😀

Small wins can make big differences. My appointment yesterday had a pleasant outcome; I don’t need surgery for a thing that seemed quite a big deal (to be something so small)… and as it turns out, it’s not something I need be worried about (at least for now, and maybe not at all). Win. I’ll take it. 😀 I sip my coffee with the sun shining in my eyes, feeling grateful. No surgery looming over me. Nice. I even had a very good experience with the medical care, and the physician, generally – I’m making a point to pause to appreciate that, because it hasn’t always been the case, at all, and I’m still dragging around some baggage over that.

I sigh and smile to myself. Feels like a good morning. It’s Friday, and it’s a short work day. I’ve got a manicure appointment at noon, and then home to start the weekend. Feels good. I sit with the good feelings awhile – there’s definitely value in staying with the good feelings for a little while. I think most of us don’t even notice the way we linger in our shittiest moments, reviving them for further scrutiny over and over again (as if that’s at all helpful), then just glossing over our moments of joy and contentment as though these fleeting moments somehow have less value than the shitty ones. (Maybe don’t do that, eh?) When I finally did learn how much value there is in lingering over my small joys and simple moments of contentment or delight, and learned to savor what is good in my life, the way my life felt overall changed a lot. Instead of a fairly miserable experience of existence pocked with occasional relief that felt both too-brief, and also likely to be “a trap” setting me up for future worse misery, my life became characterized by calm and contentment, with occasional experiences of sorrow, grief, frustration, or anger. Disappointment became… a moment. Anger became… transitory. Life began to feel pretty good, generally. I still have to make a point to practice “taking in the good” and savoring the best moments my experience has to offer. I don’t avoid or dodge life’s challenges, or pretend I can “manifest” them away from being what they are – but I can cope, because I know they are temporary. Incremental change over time – becoming what I practice – has meant that my life is, day-to-day, pretty good these days. It’s nice. (10 out of 10; do recommend. lol)

How does a person even begin to make this transformation? I think it starts simply enough; anger does not easily compete with gratitude. When I find myself beginning to feel angry, I deliberately pause and consider what I’m grateful for in the situation I find myself in or with regards to the person I am angry with. It helps “turn down the heat” in that moment, and gives me a chance to regain perspective. Similarly, with sorrow, with disappointment… gratitude is a great way to balance perspective. It’s not about “faking it”; there are often legitimate details in a challenging circumstance that we may feel grateful for, if we just take a moment to consider it from that perspective. Anxiety and fear work a little differently (for me), instead of gratitude, I reach for my curiosity, and my desire to know more and understand more deeply. The point, really, is to spin the difficulty such that I’m not mired in what is most difficult, so much as viewing it through the lens of other aspects of that experience – or making a point to deliberately consider something else altogether different, that brings other emotions into play, “unsticking me” from my hurt, my anger, or other similarly painful, harder to manage, emotional experiences.

…Our emotions are not the enemy…

…And “being emotional” is not an insult. The hidden win is to develop “emotional intelligence” and reliably good skill at appropriate emotional regulation (which can be developed… it takes practice).

I smile and sip my coffee. I take a moment to enjoy my breakfast salad (how did this so easily become “a thing”? Why haven’t I always done this? I feel so good in the mornings these days…). Another weekend already here… and that means another shot (Ozempic), another weigh-in, another opportunity to reflect on progress and become aware of slow steady change. I’m counting down the days to my camping trip, too… that’d be 9 days to go, now. 😀

What defines a luxury?

I make time for early morning conversation with my Traveling Partner. We talk about the deck (needs repairs) and the hot tub (older and super noisy), and the discussion quickly becomes the sort of productive strategy and planning conversation that really brings a new project to life… we decide to shut down the hot tub “permanently” (this one, at least), in favor of removing it and replacing it after the deck is repaired (rebuilt) with improved quality of life features in mind. These are things we’d talked about when we bought the house (4 years ago), but other things (reasonably) had to come first (like the roof). Homeownership has so many qualities I love over renting – “a place of my own” being top of my personal list there – and I do love the flexibility to change things as we’d like, but … damn… so much adulting required, and effort, and commitment, and time, and money… and… I’m okay with all of it. It’s exciting and satisfying, as each project begins and finishes. My Traveling Partner has great ideas and the skills needed to bring this to life. I’m eager to help, and see how things turn out. I’m definitely a fan of replacing the hot tub with a more energy efficient, quieter model. (I’ll bet the neighbors will be too; this old thing is super noisy!) Having a hot tub feels almost non-negotiable for me at this point, though… I get so much value out of it (pain relief, improvement mobility), now we’ve just got to sort out the details…

My thoughts wander from the here and now to a future I can see but can’t touch (yet). I feel hopeful – for a lot of reasons – and grateful. It’s a good feeling. I feel wrapped in love, and fortunate to have a really good partnership that enhances my life. I’m ready to begin again. 😀

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Spring, The Art of Being, weight loss secrets

New Day, New Experience

May 9, 2024 //
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This morning I woke gently, but confused. It took me a minute to sort out what day it is, and that my plan is quite different from my usual Thursday. I struggled to wake up thoroughly, and had to trek back down the hall twice for things I forgot.

The drive to this nature park I enjoy walking in was strange, too. So little traffic it was quite a surreal (and also relaxed) drive along a route that is generally part of my commute. What little traffic there was, was peculiarly professional, civil, and safe, moving along with purposeful efficiency, and no aggression. Maybe there is hope for humanity?

As I crested a hill, going around a particular curve, the view of Mt Hood spread before me briefly, silhouetted gray-blue against a smudgey peach-colored sunrise. Beautiful. I considered stopping… I always do. Consider it, I mean. I haven’t ever actually stopped at that spot; there’s no shoulder there, really, just a private driveway and traffic is moving pretty fast for those kind of shenanigans. Still, I feel fortunate to have seen that view, those colors, and gotten to enjoy the moment as I passed on by.

Lovely morning to begin again. Even a familiar path can present a new perspective.

I walked as the sun rose, watching the sky change from peach to gold to blue. There are mists clinging to the ground in low spots along the river and marsh. I can hear the highway traffic beyond the park, and the sounds of little birds in the trees and grasses along the trail. A small herd of deer cross the path ahead of me, fearlessly curious at that distance. The morning sunlight reaches the trees and the leaves become luminous, seeming to glow. It’s a lovely morning.

I walked along grateful for new beginnings and new days. Today is, so far, much better than yesterday. I still have no idea what the hell was biting my ass yesterday, but g’damn I was in an ugly mood. I spent the evening after work willfully fighting off my inner unpleasantness and making the effort needed to enjoy my Traveling Partner’s good company. It was, for the most part, a successful attempt to fight off my shitty mood. At one point, he “caught me” in my own head, distracted by my thoughts, and asked me what I was thinking about. Rather oddly, I was considering the complex pattern of a particular rug, rather randomly. Strange. Inconsequential. Probably not very satisfying as an answer to the question “what are you thinking about “. Honestly, it was just another way of distracting myself from my shit mood, which was characterized mostly by a distinct sense of just “not wanting to have to deal with people” at all.

…I’m glad I find myself in a more pleasant place today…

I’m frankly not the most social of creatures. My brain injury results in a certain lack of ability to shut the fuck up, often, and I tend to be a bit of a chatterbox as a result. If there are people around, I have no problem interacting with them. (My challenges are more to do with controlling my speech, recognizing social cues, and listening considerately.) I cherish my solitude, and I enjoy it (and truly need it). It’s hard on me when circumstances give me no time alone. (I sigh contentedly,  sitting here by the river in the morning sunshine, writing these words… thoroughly alone, and happy to be.) Lately, and in spite of occasional getaways, I feel “encroached upon” and crowded by people and commitments and the awareness that there’s precious little time for “everything “. There’s a sense that the clock is ticking – and always has been – and I’m struggling to give myself the space I need to truly thrive.

…Maybe I need to spend time in the studio, painting?

I glance at my watch… it’s time to head back to the car. I’ve got an appointment to get to, and errands to run. I’ve got a partner to care for, and dishes to do. It’s time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, art and the artist, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, The Big 5

Little Complications

May 7, 2024 //
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I’m sipping my coffee and fussing with a small hangnail. I keep trying to ignore it, but keep finding myself sliding the adjacent finger alongside the hangnail, feeling the tiny snag as much more significant than it is, and fighting the impulse to tear it off, which would surely only do more damage. I pause and put lotion on my hands, hoping to soften that wee torn bit of flesh such that it stops being a distraction. It’s a small thing (literally quite small), but continues to pull at my awareness in the background. Will I have the pure will and persistence necessary to leave the fucking thing alone for an entire work shift? (Somehow I’ve misplaced the nail kit I thought I’d left in my desk drawer for this sort of thing…)

I sigh out loud and make myself let this go. Again. I expect I’ll be repeating the effort… repeatedly. lol

…I remind myself to make an appointment for a manicure this week…

…I think about how terrible I am at remembering self-care tasks without actual reminders, and put the reminder on my damned calendar for later…

It was fully daylight when I got to the office this morning, though I left at “the usual time”. The season continues to evolve, Spring deepening and the days growing longer and warmer. I’m eagerly anticipating my camping trip at the end of the month, and looking forward to the early morning drive. 3 hours of country driving, quite early and likely with very little traffic due to the early hour and route I’ve selected. It’s the kind of driving I enjoy most. My Traveling Partner prepared a playlist for me to enjoy – songs I can sing along to that we often enjoy together, and selected to be the sorts of things unlikely to provoke aggressive driving, and more likely to promote a peaceful chill driving experience. I’ve been enjoying it on my commute, too. 😀 Delightful. I feel very loved – and understood.

I sit with the passing recollection that we’ll be losing this office space at the end of this month. Feels a little odd. I don’t actually require an office space to do the work I do; I’m a “fully remote” worker these days, and making the trip into the office is purely optional, and I do it because it’s nice to enjoy the pleasant office, and to give my Traveling Partner the opportunity to sleep in. It’ll be back to working from home in just a couple weeks, and my timing and routine will change to account for that. No idea what that’ll look like, really. My “routine” is not fixed or static, and it changes with seasons, and the changing needs of daily (and family) life. The rate of change is sufficiently slow that things tend to feel pretty routine most of the time, in spite of the changes. I’ll likely return to walking (locally) in the very early morning, and starting my work day hours later than I do now. Being at home during the work day, I’ll do more of the small housekeeping stuff on breaks, during the day, instead of pounding through all of it shortly after returning home. I may be less tired – I’ll get almost 3 hours back in my day that will no longer be spent commuting to the city. I find myself looking forward to all of that.

…I glance at the clock, and realize it’s already time to get on with the day… I begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being

No Blue Skies Today

May 6, 2024 //
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This morning is a gray and rainy one. It’s fine. It’s the sort of rain that evokes childhood memories of waiting in the car, rain tapping the windshield and roof, or sitting gazing out a window to a rainy street daydreaming stories about passers-by, dazzled by the reflections of lights on wet pavement. I find rainy days generally pleasant, but the sound of rain does tend to make my mind wander. I sit with my thoughts for a timeless moment, watching the rain fall.

…The only thing I don’t like about a chilly rainy morning is the amount of pain I’m often in; my arthritis definitely seems to respond to the weather…

I nibble at my breakfast salad contentedly, in spite of having “no dressing” (I’d used up the last of what was on hand last week, and had completely forgotten about it). It’s fine. I drizzled a teaspoon of olive oil over the greens, and a sprinkling of salt and pepper. Seems adequate; it matters more that the greens are a nice blend of good quality baby greens (things like spinach, arugula, chard, small leaf lettuces) – flavorful on their own. I sip my coffee, which is surprisingly terrible this morning – but that’s fine, too. It’s honestly not worth fussing over, barely worth mentioning in passing. I’m satisfied with it; it feels like enough. Could I make fresh? Sure. Could I go get a coffee elsewhere and spend money on it? Yep. Not gonna. Doesn’t matter enough to bother with all that. It’s fine. lol

My mind wanders as I nibble at my breakfast. No rush. No pressure. A moment with my thoughts. My tinnitus is loud in my ears, though I easily hear the ventilation in the background, and a plane passing over heard, too; these definitely external sounds help prevent me from focusing on my tinnitus (which, subjectively, often makes it seem much louder). I feel prepared for the day, and well-organized. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I let myself simply be here, now; a woman having coffee and a bite of breakfast before digging into the day’s work in earnest. It’s enough.

Nozomi – second to bloom this Spring.

The weekend was a rainy one, and I enjoyed taking it easy with my Traveling Partner. We spent time together on 3D printing projects, and conversation. It was a lovely weekend. I didn’t spend much time in the garden (just had a walk around once or twice), due to the fairly steady rain. It was fine, though. My time was well-spent.

I think ahead to my upcoming camping trip, which will take me away from home (if all goes as planned) for most of an entire work week (Monday through midday Friday). I know he’ll miss me. I think about things I can do to provide a sense of care and comfort for him, even while I’m away, and how best to stay connected and emotionally close while we’re apart. However much I need the solitude, myself, I am aware he gets much more of that than he needs. There’s a balance to be struck. He loves me, and recognizes I need the solitary time now and then. I love him, and recognize he needs to feel that continued sense of connection and closeness when I’m away. Love is worth learning the practices that build the skills it takes to make love last in an enduring and healthy way. (I’m still practicing, still learning, still working on becoming the woman – and the partner – that I most want to be. There are verbs involved, and my results vary.)

What are you going to do about it?

…I chuckle to myself when I recall my thoughts about this morning’s writing on my way to work; this is nothing like that. It’s strikes me humorously, simply because I often have some particular theme or idea in mind as I head to work, but once I’m here, and sitting down with the day, my head may be in a very different place. I “lose the thread” of those early morning thoughts, which sometimes vexes me, particularly if I “had it all sorted out” in my head in some way I thought worth putting into words. Other mornings, my musings – worthy or not – are less than ideally focused, or rather more negative that useful, and a few moments of meditation “puts my head right”, but throws all those earlier thoughts out in favor of … something different. That’s a bit of what happened this morning. I woke feeling, not exactly cross, just not… delighted with the day, somehow. After I sat with myself for a few minutes, listening to the rain fall, I felt fine. Upbeat. Fairly merry. Contented. It definitely changed what I ended up writing, though I’m not sure in any useful way. I’m sort of just… putting words into sentences. lol

…This is the thing, though; incremental change over time, and working through the chaos and damage, means more and more of my days are less and less “terrible”, and much more likely to be quite pleasantly ordinary – and that’s a good thing. The “excitement” of chaos and the highs and lows of living with trauma (and healing from it) aren’t the standard to strive for, at all. The point of seeking emotional wellness is to, over time, become emotionally well, which is often not particularly exciting at all, which is… fine. Quite fine.

I sip my coffee. Finish my salad. Look over my calendar for the day and the week, and check my notes from Friday. I’m ready to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Roses, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, weight loss secrets
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