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The Stress Is Real

March 17, 2025 //
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Whether or not whatever is causing our stress and anxiety is “real” – the stress itself, the actual anxiety is real. Strange how that works.

I sneeze suddenly and dart across the room to the corner where I’ve tucked my handbag, and scramble frantically through the contents looking for the travel pack of tissues I know is there somewhere. Damn it! Another sneeze, and now my nose is running like crazy and I dread finding myself covered in snot. I continue scrambling through the contents of my handbag a bit panicked, finally finding the tissues after I basically dump the contents onto the top of the printer in the corner. I return to my desk, feeling relieved, then my eye falls on an actual box of tissues right there on my damned desk, unnoticed, placed there by the cleaning crew over the weekend. I sigh, amused and frustrated, and astonished at the intensity of my absolutely pointless moment of stress. The stress was real. The cause of it wasn’t real at all; it was based on a misperception, a misunderstanding, an error in thinking.

“Anxiety” 10″ x 14″ – and she feels much bigger than that, generally.

…That’s often how stress and anxiety work; we respond to something in our thoughts or perceived experience without regard to the actual factual basis of the circumstances, and the stress builds so quickly we fail to “fact check” what’s going on around us…

I take a moment to let renewed calm sink in. I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s a new moment. I begin again.

My Traveling Partner had asked me (some time ago) to help with some paperwork. I have been dreading doing it, not because it’s actually all that big a deal, but because… stress. My own medical trauma and difficulties with some sorts of paperwork has been getting in the way of helping him out. He’s got his own challenges and anxiety to do with it, but it’s mostly been about the practical difficulties with keyboarding for long enough to get it done. He needs my help. I am happy to provide it – in the abstract – but the reality of the stress it has been causing me flared up yesterday afternoon, and I found myself in a moment of headache and pain and stressful tears over… mostly nothing. It’s just not that big a deal. It collided with my awareness of the upcoming busy Tuesday calendar (he has a couple of appointments to get to, and needs help getting to those) and my upcoming time off (which appears now to need to include Tuesday) and my headache, and I just… couldn’t get my head around all of it calmly. I found myself facing a huge feeling of pressure and imminent requirement to get it all done. Funny – not one detail of any of it is all that big a deal, so… why all the stress and agita? Why the anxiety? What the actual fuck, eh?

Humans being human. This morning it doesn’t look like all that big a deal. I look over the provided checklist for the paperwork, it’s not all that bothersome, actually. The appointments tomorrow? The Anxious Adventurer stepped up, agreeing to take his father to those appointments. I took it in stride this morning when it turned out I also have an appointment, scheduled in between my Traveling Partner’s appointments, and which would have prevented me from taking him to both of his, regardless. Busy day. The paperwork? It’s just paperwork. Needs to be done so it can join a queue of other paperwork submitted by other human beings to be considered by still other human beings at some considerably later date. Just not that big a deal, I guess. But the stress was real. That’s an important detail; managing that stress was its own thing, with its own needs and its own steps. A real concern, for a real human being – and I’m grateful that my Traveling Partner recognized the need ahead of my own acknowledgement of my stress (which was escalating and confounding my ability to reason), and helped me address it, enabling me to more easily self-soothe, and get myself back on track. No tantrum, no meltdown. The headache lingered through the evening, but even that wasn’t that big a deal once the stress had been managed. Stress complicates everything by clouding our comprehension and judgment, making everything look like a bigger deal than it may actually be.

This morning, I breathe, exhale, and relax. I slept well and deeply last night – I clearly needed the rest. I feel like my body (and mind) have finally made the adjustment to the change to the clocks (good grief I wish we’d stop doing that). I feel more settled and comfortable in my skin. Okay for most values of “okay”, and ready for a new day (and week). The Equinox is coming, and so is my time off. It’ll be nice to have a few relaxed days painting, drinking coffee, driving beautiful roads to lovely destinations, and doing some painting. It is time planned to be very low stress. I hope it actually turns out that way, although the future is not written, and I have no way to know what obstacles may be on the path ahead. lol It’s a very human experience.

I’d like to spend a little time in the garden, too. So much of my experience in life is based on what I’ve planted, what I tend to. I think awhile about my garden as a metaphor… there are weeds to pull, seedlings to nurture, and a harvest in the future. For now? It’s time to begin, again.

My garden is a special place for me – and a useful metaphor.
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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Spring, The Art of Being

It’s the Change, Not the Time

March 9, 2025 //
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The clock says 06:14, and I’m sitting at the trailhead waiting for daybreak. Daylight Savings Time began, again, today. I dislike DST fiercely. I don’t think that is unreasonable; twice yearly my timing and my body are given an additional helping of chaos and discomfort for no good reason. The seasons are what they are. DST doesn’t actually change the length of a day. The change to the clocks, though, is legitimately disruptive.

I set my alarm this morning, rather cleverly I thought, for 05:45 – an hour later than usual, so, for the usual time. It’s a Sunday, and I have no need to be up earlier. Figured I’d give myself a break from the chaos and start dealing with it on the other end of the day. The clock said 05:00 when I woke to… a noise? The sound of a voice, puzzled or bewildered? Something. Shit. Okay, I went ahead and dragged myself through my routine, although my body and brain insisted it was only 04:00 and I could have tried to sleep a bit longer. I was awake, for most values of “awake”. (Ah, DST, my old nemesis, you got me again!)

… I don’t actually care that I’m up so early. I often am…

I’ve got plenty of time.

As I drove up the road, I caught a glimpse of the moon half full, low on the horizon and quite huge. Beautiful and strangely golden in hue, I was tempted to pull over and watch her set, but chose to drive on. I regretted my choice almost immediately, it was just that beautiful and rare a sight to see. The morning is peculiarly spooky at the trailhead. There is a clear sky overhead, planets twinkling, shining brightly enough to be visible in spite of the glare of urban lights below, and there’s a dense mist clinging low to the ground here at the edge of the marsh. It’s an interesting effect. Chilly morning. I sit waiting quietly, feeling sort of sleepy, thinking thoughts.

I sit with my thoughts, sipping the coffee I picked up on the way, grateful to have it. Grateful for the quiet moment. Grateful generally, if I’m being honest. I’ve got a list of things to do later, but none of it needs my attention now, and I’m not in much pain today, so far. Win. I meditate. Sip my coffee. Let these quiet minutes tick by gently. I watch the sky begin to lighten ever so slowly as the mist thickens, obscuring other details.

Daybreak comes.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. Soon enough, it will be time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Frustration, gratitude, health, Logic & Reason, meditation, Metaphors, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Practices, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being

Perspective

March 5, 2025 //
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I’m sipping my coffee and enjoying this relaxed moment between the beginning of a new day, and whatever the next moment may hold. The sun is rising, and I see the edge of the sunrise beyond the window, the blue sky, the trees, the clouds, and – the reflections of the work day as images of office lights and the space behind me on the window glass. It’s a metaphor for perspective – and a reminder that I create a substantial portion of my experience based on what put my attention on.

Perspective on the day ahead and this moment.

Which is most real? The world beyond the window? The work in front of me? The chatter and hum of the office(s) behind me? Am I focused on this moment, or some other moment? I can choose to put my attention here, or there, or elsewhere. I can choose my point of view, and I can broaden my perspective to include experiences other than my own through my awareness, my ability to observe, my understanding, and my compassion. It is possible to understand more than my own limited experience, but there are verbs involved.

I sit awhile reflecting on perspective, as I observe the reflections in the window while the sun rises. I see that woman I am so familiar with gazing back at me. There was a time when I was chronically unhappy with her (and about her), and dissatisfied with her very existence. I’m in a different place with her these days – she is my best friend, my shadow, my constant companion, my past, present, and future. I see her smile back at me, aware that “it isn’t all about her“. Useful perspective. It’s a big world and there’s more than me doing my thing going on, on this strange mudball hurtling through space. We’re each having our own experience, and there are a lot of us. Each human. Each worthy of consideration and basic human decency. (Yes, “them” too; being considerate and decent even to some objectionable other is more about me being decent than it is about them, at all, isn’t it?)

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I feel content and comfortable with myself, this morning. Feels like a good start to the day. I gave myself a headstart on this good morning by not watching the president’s address to congress last night. I didn’t have the heart to be that disappointed in humanity just then. I put self-care first. Worth it. I’m not all spun up and angsty over the imminent demise of American democracy, or the horrific failure of our nation to be “great” (ever). Some things are within my control, some things are not; I can take care of me (with consideration and self-respect), and I can do my very best to be the best possible version of the woman I most want to be with the skills I have right now. It’s the best I can do to change the world; be my best self, and avoid being a jerk to other human beings. It’ll have to be enough. This morning, it is.

Pain is pain. This fragile mortal vessel has its limitations. Saw my doctor yesterday, got referred for imaging, and it’ll be a referral to a specialist from there, based on the imaging. Such is the way of things. If I could give my younger self any advice at all, it would be “take care of your body, you’ve only got this one”. That’s a pretty broad recommendation, covers a lot of stuff, and it’s not like she’d have listened – she was once in a very “live fast/die young” place as a human primate. That’s unfortunate – I wish she’d have given the future just a bit more consideration. lol I stretch, and breathe, and move around some, feeling the pain here and there as sore muscles expand and contract, and various arthritic bones grind one against another. The headache isn’t as bad this morning; I’m grateful for that. I chuckle to myself to have reached this place where some specific measure of pain (versus worse pain) is something to be grateful for. It’s not a merry or joyful or humorous thing, it’s just perspective.

I sip my coffee and contemplate “perspective” – and how mine has changed over the years, with age, with experience, with new information, with joy and wonder and bitter disappointments. I’m not the woman I was at 19, or at 27, or at 32. We’ve very little in common. Even the very cells of this physical body, one by one, have changed. I sit with that a while longer. This? Always a new beginning, each moment, a chance to do better, a chance to become the woman I most want to be. A chance to make better choices in my life. A chance to embrace wiser perspective and make room for an understanding of experiences that are not my own.

It’s time to begin again. What will I do with it? Where does this path lead?

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Categories 2024 Election, Allegories, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Practices, Spring, The Art of Being, winter

Chaos and Pain

March 4, 2025 //
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I slept somewhat poorly last night, restless with pain mostly. My dreams were filled with chaos and uncertainty, and the occasional random spider. Odd. I woke in the usual way, dressed and left the house, head still full of chaos. My thoughts as I drove up the highway reflected the restlessness of the night and the chaos in my head; I reflected philosophically on a variety of seemingly unrelated ideas, the only connecting thread being my own individual perspective, as I exist today. Useful? Hardly. Barely interesting, already forgotten.

I get to work, in less pain than yesterday but still feeling it as a distraction. I take my meds, get some coffee. I sigh and get things set up for the day. It’s a routine work day and I’m grateful to be working…but…

…Fucking hell life is expensive, and “enough” doesn’t always feel like “enough”. I say this acutely aware that I write from a place of relative privilege. Things could be better, yeah, but they could sure be a lot fucking worse. (And have been, in past eras of my life). My pain grates on my nerves – but so does my feeling of discontent and stress over the future. (Will I ever retire? It doesn’t seem at all likely at this point, until lack of fitness for such endeavors forces me out of the workforce to exist on whatever resources remain. A grim thought, and I try not to linger in this place.)

I breathe, exhale, and relax. Some days it is a force of will to be in a positive frame of mind. This doesn’t mean inauthentically silently screaming positive aphorisms to myself in my head or forcing a smile to the people around me while I proclaim that “everything is fine” – that doesn’t work. “Fake it till you make it” is not my way; I haven’t found success there, myself. Instead, I rely on practicing gratitude – legitimate, heartfelt appreciation for the things that are working, the things that feel good, that things I have, or do, or feel, that truly lift me up. There’s a lot to be grateful for, and generally the very temporary feelings of stress and discontent will pass if I don’t dig in and build myself a trap to fall into. So, here I am. I “feel around in my headspace” looking for a route to reclaiming my sense of self, my perspective, my feeling of being empowered… I remember I playlist I started once-upon-a-time that might be helpful right now… “No F*cks“. Hmmm… Pretty short playlist. I distract myself wondering what to add that fits the theme. I have definitely found that a “positive distraction” can help shift my mood from the dark places my thoughts sometimes wander.

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

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I catch myself wondering about the background stress and the thread of anxiety running through my thoughts. What’s up with me? Is it work? Is it life? Is it my doctor’s appointment later today? Oh. Yeah, that could be it, for sure. I sigh quietly. Aging has it’s ups and downs, and the doctor’s appointment is no big thing, but it brings my anxiety about my pain and long-term wellness concerns more to the forefront of my consciousness, where I thoughtlessly push it back in the form of anxiety. “Saving it for later.” Unproductive. I take a minute with myself. I do a quick “body scan”, and an “emotional inventory”, letting myself be more fully present and in touch with the feelings and sensations in my here and now moment. More than the usual pain, but a lot of it is still “just sore muscles”. My headache is worse than usual – and my health insurer (through their bullshit evil middleman) has decided not to reauthorize one of the few things that really actually gives me some pain relief (not a prescription drug, but a physical therapy). It “won’t fix anything”, which is their justification for denying reauthorization, and that’s certainly true – but there isn’t actually a treatment that will “fix” my degenerative disk disease, my osteo-arthritis, or the headache (at least nothing has been proposed as likely to be a real solution, so far). I would think relief and improved quality of life would be a good choice, with that in mind…? I catch myself gritting my teeth with suppressed fury. The pain is bad today, and I’m annoyed because it didn’t have to be, and it may be getting worse before it gets better. Cheaper to addict patients to powerful painkillers and shame them for being junkies than to provide care that actually eases suffering. Fuckers. Another breath, and I let that go. I can care, even if my insurer doesn’t. My Traveling Partner cares. My doctors care. Those things matter. Doesn’t make it easier, but I’m at least not traveling alone.

I let the music play in my ears, and sip my coffee. Sometimes enough has to be enough – even when it doesn’t feel like “enough”. Sufficiency is often not what I want it to be – it’s only what it is. Things could be legitimately worse – far worse. I’ll make the best of what is – because that’s the path I’ve chosen to walk. That’s the woman I most want to be. Capable. Fearlessly self-aware. Doing my best. It’s not nothing – and sometimes something is all I need to get by for awhile.

I smile to myself. I feel it still. I definitely do. It’s time to begin again anyway.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, health, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Practices, Sleepless Nights, The Art of Being, turning 60

Choose Your Ride, Pay For Your Ticket

March 3, 2025 //
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Nothing in life is free. Seriously. You want the thing? You pay the price. You want to embark on that adventure? It comes at a cost. You’re going to take that chance, jump at that opportunity, walk down that path over there? You’ll pay for it, one way or another. This isn’t a threat, nor is it a warning, I’m just saying there’s a price to be paid for our choices, and it isn’t always in cash, or stated clearly up front.

Last Wednesday, the Anxious Adventurer and I finished off the storage move. (Yay!) There was a feeling of accomplishment, but it was also a lot of work. Friday, I took the day off work and spent about 7 hours walking on beaches, with breaks in between to write a few words, or go from “here” to “there” – about 11 total miles of walking, based on my tracker. Saturday began with a 3 mile walk on a favorite trail, and ended with housekeeping, chores, and gardening. Sunday was more of the same. Today? Yeah, today “the bill came due” and I’m paying for all of it; I feel like I’ve been in a serious fight (and lost). My muscles ache from the least of efforts. It was difficult just getting out of bed and getting dressed this morning. My back, legs, shoulders, and neck all ache ferociously, and I’m stiff. So stiff. Today I’m walking with a cane just getting from the car to my desk to the coffee in the office kitchenette, and I’m “wearing my years”. I’m not complaining, just saying this is where I am, and why. I take a moment to consider the sensations of my body. This fragile vessel needs care, and while that’s true every day, right now I’m really feeling it. Funny thing is, most of these things I did so much of were themselves forms of self-care. Hilarious (for some forms of humor). (I guess you had to be there. lol)

I breathe, exhale, and “relax” – best I can, hurting the way I do right now. It’ll pass. I remind myself that there’s always a price to be paid for the things we do, or want, or achieve, even if only the time consumed of our limited mortal years. Was the price too high? No, not at all, and I’m paying it without objection, resentment, or resistence. It is what it is. (Which is, mostly, painful at present.) The moment will pass. The pain will ease. I’ll go on to be stronger for the effort I’ve made, and I’m pleased with the outcome (particularly in the garden). Hell, there’s more yet to do. Life doesn’t pause for a breather just because a task has been completed. There’s always that next step. Another project. Another moment.

…Life being lived; there are verbs involved…

Garden books & seed packets; the plan is not the experience.

I sip my coffee (g’damn I am so sore this morning, even sipping coffee manages to hurt), pleased that it is so good today. I smile thinking about the work in the garden, progress made toward Spring, and seeds yet to be planted. The metaphor of a garden is one of my personal favorites, and I consider what I am planting – in the garden, and in life – and how best to tend my garden for a bountiful harvest. There’s work involved, and it helps to plan, and to proceed with intention, but the path ahead isn’t predetermined, and the way is not always clear. I sigh contentedly in spite of my physical discomfort. I’m fortunate, and I sit with my gratitude for a moment. We become what we practice, for sure, and our choices and actions make a difference in the life we lead – but where our journey begins, and what obstacles befall us along the way, matters too – and we have less control over that. I reflect awhile on my good fortune in life, generally. I’m not saying it’s been “an easy life”, and I’ve surely had what sometimes seems like more than my “fair share” of trauma over the years, but… considering things from the perspective of this one human experience of a lifetime of growth and change and circumstance? I’m fortunate, indeed. (It’s rarely helpful to become mired in pain, or to wallow in the chaos and damage.) I’ve much to be grateful for…

I sip my coffee, think my thoughts, and prepare to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, joy, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Practices, Spring, The Art of Being, turning 60, weight loss secrets, winter
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