Archives for category: health

I’m sipping my coffee, back aching, and contemplating the day ahead of me. The world seems ever to be in turmoil, and I find myself wondering if maybe that’s just the way of worlds? Humans being human, stumbling in the darkness, failing to live up to their own expectations, trying and trying again – sometimes without changing what they’re doing that didn’t work the first time. We’re strange creatures; we have immense capacity for reason and intelligent thought, but often choose not to make use of it. Isn’t that strange? We have the power to change how we feel and what we do, how we experience the world around us, what we think of this or that, and to deepen our understanding and knowledge over time, to choose differently based on experience and learning, and sometimes we just… don’t bother. Isn’t that peculiar?

The weekend ahead of me is filled with choices and opportunities. Will newly started seedlings have enough roots to be ready to plant into the new little solar hydro garden that my Traveling Partner made for me? Will the deer eat more of my tomato plants? Will I find a pair of jeans that fit as well as this pair that is falling apart and can’t really be worn anymore in spite of being my favorite pair? Will I make “the perfect cup of coffee” and manage to enjoy it before it gets cold? Will I take time to finish the book I’m reading? Will I paint or write poetry or gaze at the stars in the hour before dawn? Will my Traveling Partner delight me with some unexpected token of his affection crafted for me by his loving hands? Will the Anxious Adventurer share a funny meme, or cook a tasty meal for the family, or give me a hand with the irrigation project for the west side garden? I think about the possibilities without setting expectations or making assumptions. The possibilities are nearly endless – what brings them to life will be the choices we each make.

…”Choose wisely,” I remind myself, “the clock is ticking”…

A rose blooming in the garden

Still, choices or no choices, actions or no actions, busy or not-so-busy, it’s worth making time to also simply enjoy each moment. Like the roses in my garden, each moment is unique. Unrepeatable. “Once in a lifetime”, however similar it may seem to some other moment quite like it. Being present – really present – slows the clock, and enriches each experience. Mindfulness as a practice has its greatest value in that quality above most others; presence. It teaches presence. It’s a practice, though, and it requires effort, and the doing of the thing. There are verbs involved, and choices. It’s not a passive happenstance that I can count on, it’s a choice I have to make, and a practice that requires practicing.

I sit more fully upright, hoping to ease the arthritis pain in my back. I’m aware of it there in the background. Does it hint at a change in the weather? Is it due to effort or strain? Does that even matter? I sigh quietly to myself and take something to ease the discomfort somewhat. I sip my coffee, and enjoy the moment without regard to the pain. Escaping it may not be an option, but neither do I have to let it control me.

Feels like a good day, generally. If it didn’t, I could choose to change things about my experience and perhaps improve it. That’s not necessary today; I feel okay for most values of “okay”, and I’m not weighed down by the foolishness, violence, and sorrows of the world. Not right now. It’s a pretty morning. There are flowers blooming in my garden (and beyond), and the day feels sort of “easy”, generally. I sit with that feeling, grateful and appreciative, not wanting to waste the moment by rushing it or taking it for granted, although I’m eager to get to the other side of the work day, and head home to my beloved and my garden.

I breathe, exhale, and relax, gazing out the window in front of me as cars stream into the parking lot below. It’s that time. Time to begin again.

This headache is vexing me. I feel as if I’ve done all I can to ease my discomfort. Have I? A bad headache can limit my ability to think clearly and make wise self-care choices. I let my Traveling Partner know that I’ve got this pretty terrible headache. Doing so isn’t only to feel less alone with it, nor is it solely about making sure he knows if something goes seriously wrong. As much as anything else, it is to get any helpful suggestions of things to do about it that I may have over looked; thinking through the pain is difficult. I know I’m not at my best.

My beloved does indeed think of something I could do that might help some. A hot shower. That does sound soothing. Maybe a soak in the hot tub, too?  I stretch – maybe movement will help. I correct my posture. I adjust the lights. I make myself relax (again). I drink more water. I have some magnesium. I eat a banana (potassium). I take an OTC headache remedy. I limit the noise in my work space. Item by item, I go down the list.

… This too will pass…

Headaches tend to be temporary. Soon enough the work day will end and I can focus on me. I’ll have that shower, a soak, maybe lay down for a few minutes. A great many of my headaches are to do with my neck. Degenerative disk disease is painful and inconvenient, and like the name says it gets progressively worse over time. I try not to think about that. The thought brings tears to my eyes and I feel suddenly helpless and childlike.

…It will pass (for most values of that idea, if only temporarily)…

Not what is generally expected of office decor, but it’s my office and I’ll decorate as I like. lol

I think about this cozy friendly welcoming space I’m in… It’s quite soft and nice and filled with colors and curves and soft places. It’s a very nice spot to lay down with a book (or a headache). It was my studio, it is my home office – my quiet space. Everywhere I look there are reminders that I am loved and valued: helpful or beautiful things my beloved has made for me, precious things collected over time, souvenirs of a life well-lived, and my own art work. It’s a nice spot to enjoy a quiet moment.

I sip my icy cold glass of water. Ice water might not be ideal for some headaches – this one doesn’t care about that. It doesn’t react to the temperature of the water at all. Noises are a bigger deal. The position I’m in matters more. I’m fairly confident this headache is coming from my neck; my left ear itches ferociously deep inside without any obvious cause. Nerve damage. It’s all quite unpleasant, but saying so is better than hiding it, and caring for this fragile vessel helps more than ignoring the pain ever could.

I sigh to myself and get back to work. The work day is nearly over – then I can begin again.

I overlooked writing at all yesterday. I mean, to be clear, I “wrote” quite a lot, as a function of the work I do for a paycheck. A lot. What I failed to do was any other sort of writing: introspective, meditative, creative, nothing of that sort. I arrived home from work wholly exhausted, brain fatigued, dragging myself along on pure willpower alone, and the awareness that if I didn’t do this or that task, no one else would either.

… I managed to hold enough in reserve to make dinner…

I’m still tired this morning. My last several nights have been restless and my sleep interrupted and full of nightmares and stressful dreams of failure, futility, and pointlessly chasing unachievable goals. Hell, Elon-fucking-Musk even made an appearance in one of my unpleasant dreams and he was just as big a clueless out-of-touch douchebag in my dream as he is reported to be in life. Bleh. G’damn I hope I sleep better tonight.

I’m in a ferocious amount of pain and filled with resentment at insurers who don’t want to cover long-term services that maintain better quality of life and reduce pain, but without “fixing” anything. My occipital neuralgia flared up some days ago after quite a long time of only dealing with it occasionally; it’s clear that the additional care I had been receiving was actually reducing my pain. “Fuckers,” I snarl quietly, but I don’t know who I am most angry with – my insurance company or the rich assholes who built this stupid entirely profit-focused system. This is a fucking dumb way to approach medicine.

I sigh quietly. Let it go. I’m paying out of pocket for the care I need, today. It’s not a sustainable choice. I can’t do it often, but I definitely need some help managing the pain right now, after three exhausting work weeks that I am happy to put behind me.

Dawn on the marsh

It’s a new day. Boots on, cane in hand, this trail isn’t going to walk itself. For now I’ve got the place all to myself, a treat for my fatigued consciousness. Solitude. No people. No need to speak or hear words. I breathe, exhale, and relax. Today, self-care first. Then, I’ll begin again.

Some 15 months ago or so, I drained the hot tub, planning to clean and refill it, which I didn’t do before winter had come. It stood empty quite a long while. Shortly after the Anxious Adventurer moved in back in July, he refilled it and adjusted the chemistry – very promising – only to discover a notable leak. Well, shit. I’ve been without the joy of being immersed in hot water for all this time, and last night after repair work, and tinkering, and cleaning, and filling, and adjusting chemistry, the hot tub was back to fulfill its purpose; being full of hot water. Oh damn that was so nice, just to soak in hot water, floating gently, watching the sky overhead. See, the thing about a bath tub is that the water inevitably begins to cool, a less than ideal outcome. lol

I still woke up crazy stiff and hurting, this morning, lovely moment soaking in the hot tub being a profound pleasure but not a cure for anything. I’m not even annoyed. It’s just part of the experience.

I drove in to the office feeling merry, without regard to the pain I’m in. I stopped at the top of a hill to see a beautiful sight before driving on (I rarely allow myself that luxury).

Mt. Hood, Venus, a crescent moon.

Nice morning for it. I’ll get a walk later. My head aches and I could do with a cup of coffee. It’s a busy day ahead. I work on taking things as they come, this morning, and refrain from reading things into the moment, or anticipating challenges that don’t yet exist. I’m just floating. Present. Observing. Mindful. Enjoying this moment as it is, without demanding that it do or be more than whatever it happens to be, now. Allowing sufficiency to be enough.

strawberry blossoms

I think about dinner, later. I think about my garden, now. Neither of these things are part of my experience of this moment, here. That’s very much part of the challenge, isn’t it? Living “now” doesn’t have to be about hedonistic excess (probably shouldn’t be about that, really), but neither is it “about” the moments and experiences that are presently out of reach. Yearning is not productive. Planning is. How best to find the balance between those things is work in progress, at least for me. I remind myself to make room for other experiences, other lives, other ways, other journeys, while I walk my own path. I breathe, exhale, and relax. (How am I so tired this morning?)

I sip my coffee, finding some amusement in how much I miss my Traveling Partner this morning, and my garden, and the cup of coffee I’d make for myself… simple experiences of profound joy, readily available when I work from home. Things are fine in the office, and there is nothing to complain about. I even have a pleasant view of a lovely Spring morning out this window in front of me. I’m neither content with where I am, nor am I wishing to be elsewhere. I’m just here, living this moment, and it’s fine. I feel fairly positive, and mostly merry, I just hurt and my attempts to avoid that sensation are fatiguing and have the potential to make me cross as the day wears on. I’m restless. Thinking about my garden is preferrable. Thinking about my beloved is uplifting. I end up spending rather a lot of time “in my own head”. No complaints; it has become a pretty pleasant place, generally.

…I’m stalling. There’s an entire day ahead and I have a list of things to get done in these handful of mortal hours. The clock is ticking and it is time to begin, again.

It won’t always be this way – whatever way it happens to be at the moment. I do my best to enjoy the journey, in spite of pain, in spite of bad weather, in spite of pitfalls, challenges, and the consequences of poor choices. I do my best to enjoy the journey when it is easy to enjoy it (which seems pretty obvious, but turns out it sometimes isn’t), and also when it is difficult. I’m not suggesting bullshit affirmations and inauthentic enthusiasm, it’s more a matter of “doing my best”, and staying true to the path I’ve chosen. Sometimes it’s hard.

Last night was one of those times. I was in so much pain. My neck was hurting, and my occipital neuralgia had flared up. My headache was worse than usual and the left side of my body was a mess of knots, and cramps, and discomfort. It was pretty awful – bad enough that my beloved Traveling Partner (who could do nothing to ease my suffering) could not bear to be in my company. That was its own sort of misery, and I finally just gave up and went to bed early. I didn’t sleep, not right away, but I was also in no shape to enjoy a new video game I’ve started, and too distracted by pain to read anything new. I got as comfortable as I could, prepared for sleep, and picked up a book so familiar to me it may as well be stories from my own life. lol Stale and boring? No. Comforting and easy. Eventually I slept, and when I woke, there was my Kindle, standing where it had been. It turned itself off at some point after I stopped turning digital pages. Convenient.

A strawberry blossom in my garden, a metaphor for change, and joy – and impermance.

This morning is a new day. I woke feeling refreshed. Headache as near to gone as it ever gets these days. The left side of my body feels substantially the same as the right side. My neck is “only” stiff, and I don’t fuck with it, hoping to enjoy this brief reprieve from discomfort as long as it may last. My occipital neuralgia has died away on its own – probably the greatest relief of yesterday’s pain that I could ask for, today. There’s just no arguing with nerve pain, and so far nothing I’ve been prescribed works well enough to justify overlooking the side-effects (which, in one case, was suicidal despair – I mean, seriously? Fuck that shit, I’d rather spend the rest of my life with my face feeling like it is on fire). This morning is a happy relief and I got to the office feeling incredibly purposeful and productive. I wasted no time “catching up” on an entire day’s work, and planning the remainder of the week, besides. Feels good. I feel capable, which is not always how I feel.

Change is. Sometimes the journey is difficult, sometimes it is easy – it rarely stays the way it is for very long. Storms come and go. There are sunny days and cloudy days. (Weather makes a pretty good metaphor for change.) I sip my coffee and reflect on the value I have found in practicing non-attachment, and learning to “be here, now”, more easily, more often. Quality of life varies with our circumstances, sure, but it also varies based on how we deal with our circumstances, how we care for ourselves, and whether we’re finding whatever joy there may be, even in the toughest of times. Not one word about any of this being “easy” or coming naturally to me (or anyone) as a human being. I just keep walking my path, doing my best, and greeting each sunrise as an entirely new day, full of promise and moments that may never be repeated. That’s a pretty good place to begin a day, I find.

I smile to myself remembering something that occured to me this morning; this anniversary coming up for my Traveling Partner and I is significant in a very special way (to me). This anniversary marks this relationship being the longest of my long-term relationships. Hell, it’s even longer than the years I lived with my family of origin. Wow. I hope it lasts many years more. “Forever”, maybe, whatever that means in a human lifetime. I often do feel as if we’ve “always” been together in some strange way. We seem so deeply connected. Even when we’re cross with each other, I’m not feeling inclined to “head for the door”, other than maybe to go take a walk and put my mind on other things until I cool off. Deep, enduring love seems a rare thing. I’m glad I have this to enjoy and experience. I’m glad my Traveling Partner is sharing a portion of his journey with me (and mine with him). I thought about how best to celebrate this special anniversary with him, as I drove to the office. I didn’t come up with anything besides sharing the day. I don’t want an expensive trinket or token of his affection; I am wrapped in his love every day. I can’t think of a single thing to make for him or give to him that would say more about my love that the life we share already says. I just want to be with him. I guess I should take that day off work, then, eh? lol

I spent the weekend in the garden. It was lovely time, well-spent. “Soul-nourishing” time. Healing time. Productive time. Time spent gazing at flowers and working in the soil. Time spent sipping coffee and thinking about what to plant where, next, and pulling weeds. I hope I can maintain the momentum through the summer months! Last year I fell short of my goals (like, a lot) because caring for my beloved took much more of my time and energy that I expected (having had no experience with caregiving, previously). I wouldn’t change that; he needed me, and I love him far too much to put my garden ahead of him in my priorities under such circumstances.

I sip my coffee grateful to enjoy it. Grateful to enjoy love. Grateful that I don’t hurt as much today as I did yesterday. Grateful to have this wee suburban home and my little garden, and a few sunny days to spend there. I smile at the blue morning sky beyond the window. The clock is ticking – but it seems to tick a bit more slowly when I am enjoying the time. I think about that for a moment, and then begin again.