Archives for category: health

I checked the weather while I dressed. Looked like more of the same mild autumn weather we’ve been having. I stifled excessive feelings of merriment before it turned into whistling or song, to avoid waking my Traveling Partner. I woke feeling pretty good.

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

I grabbed terrible coffee on my way up the highway, not intentionally, it’s how things went is all. I got used to it, I guess. I must have; I kept drinking it. There’s something to learn there about the critical importance of being aware that one’s prized adaptability may undermine necessary self-care. I ponder that as I drive, still drinking this terrible coffee. (It’s not bad meaning tainted in some way, it’s simply poorly made, of poor quality beans, and stored in an air pot that likely doesn’t get cleaned thoroughly between uses.) Industrial. Still a learning opportunity worth contemplating.

At the trailhead I’m surprised to see the ground wet from recent rain. It’s cooler, too, and my cozy fleecy shirt doesn’t feel like potentially too much, at all, the way it did when I dressed. I forgot to put on a fleece or my cardigan. Didn’t seem necessary at the time. I shrug it off; I’ll warm up as I walk.

…

Now I’m sitting, half crouching, in the photographer’s blind on the marsh. It was closer than the parking lot when the rain started. It’s not yet daybreak, and rushing down the marsh trail slick with mud, in the rain, in the darkness, didn’t seem like a good idea at all. So, I slowed down, and thought better of it, choosing the shelter of the blind until the rain passes. In some distant oak, I hear the sound of a bird of prey calling into the night with a dissatisfied sounding screech at regular intervals. I hear an owl hooting. I listen to the rain drumming on the roof of the blind. I prop open one of the “windows” and sit looking out over the marsh toward the east, listening to the rain fall. I’m in no hurry.

Yesterday was strange, strained, and difficult, but ended well. I’ll leave it there and let myself move on. Today is new. I’ll do my best. I slept well, and mostly without dreaming, which was a nice relief. Lately my sleep has been unsettled, filled with disturbing images and fragments of painful memories. It was nice to wake gently this morning. I’m pretty well done with the headcold I was fighting all week. I sigh quietly to myself thinking about the housekeeping I’m behind on. Vacuuming and laundry today, I guess. Maybe some time in the studio if my energy holds up. I remind myself of errands – a pharmacy stop, and some returns to drop off, feeling prematurely pleased to remember them without a reminder.

I think about my beloved Traveling Partner sleeping at home. I hope he’s sleeping well and deeply, and wakes to a new day with a smile. We might not have chosen each other as long term partners if circumstances had been different (or if we’d known in advance how deeply complicated this could be), but we did, and it works in an intense, passionate, and also really peculiar way. We “get” each other, love each other deeply, and choose each other again and again. It’s not any sort of testimony to being “easy”, but “easy” doesn’t appear anywhere in the contract. Worth it? Yes, definitely. Sometimes it’s still a lot of work and demands more growth from me than I think I can achieve… but here we are. I’m okay with it. I don’t doubt I am loved and safe.

… He’s more able to vex me than anyone else...

I sit smiling, thinking about my beloved. I’m very fortunate. I feel an acute and unexpected pang of intense loneliness and separation, just being here, while he is there. How strange that I adore this one human being so intensely. No, it isn’t always easy… I am loved, truly, and that’s what matters most. The loving.

Daybreak comes to the marsh. The rain stops. No colorful sunrise this morning, just cloudy sky and occasional streaks of blue showing through. I sit thinking how easily we allow a moment – particularly a painful or angry moment – to take us over and turn us into someone we don’t recognize. Being human, and doing a skillful job of it, is not effortless. It’s got more than a reasonable number of frustrating bullshit moments to deal with or endure. There’s going to be a lot to apologize for in one human life. I sigh, momentarily feeling the full weight of a lifetime of mistakes and failures and… humanity. Sometimes it’s hard.

I get to my feet as I exit the blind. I grab the edge of the plywood roof as I stand, to avoid slipping in the mud. The rain has stopped. Sometimes life is hard. Love, too. Sometimes I have to begin again. I smile as I gaze out over the marsh. I’m okay with that. I get started down the path a step at a time, watching fog deepening in the low places with some surprise. It’s as good a beginning as any.

It’s a head cold, probably. I’m fine for most of the important values of “fine”, and this will pass. I got home on…Tuesday? Tuesday. I went to bed almost immediately, and crashed hard. I slept for hours, until my Traveling Partner woke me to be sure I took my routine medications and had some calories. We hung out a little while until feeling crappy sent me back to bed.

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

I woke yesterday, Wednesday, and it was all I could do to drag myself through an abbreviated form of my morning routine and drop my dumb ass into my office chair and log into work tools. I’d have called out were it not for several items due that day that could neither be delayed nor delegated. So I did the thing. Very American of me. I’m a dumbass.

I did my best to juggle self-care and work, all day, and when the day ended? I went back to bed. No lie. I slept until the evening, got up for meds, calories, and some lovely quiet time with my beloved… and then went back to bed. Again. I slept through the night.

Here it is a new day. I hope I feel more better as the day progresses. I hate being ill. I miss my walk. (Very human). It’s fine. Tomorrow I can begin again.

It’s fine. I’m fine. Everything is “fine”… Sort of. Mostly.

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

I’m down with a headcold and pinched by circumstances between time sensitive work crap no one will remember a year from now, and my partner griefing me to take better care of myself.

…So I stopped working, and I’m going back to bed. These stupid human meat suits are always breaking down in one disappointing way or another. At least this is just a headcold. Could be worse.

I stretch my aching body. Virus. I sigh irritably and have a sip of tea. Soothing. I’ll nap and begin again later.

The foggy marsh trail feels like a liminal space, this morning. There is only “nothing” in the distance ahead of me, and behind me, and I walk along this portion of the trail in the predawn darkness with my headlamp on its dimmest setting to enjoy the sensation of being between moments.

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

It’s still dark on the foggy marsh trail.

Did you click on the picture, anyway? In spite of the not quite featureless darkness? This moment feels like a decision to click on something partially obscured from view. Life is defined by those decisions. We’re choosing our experience all the time.

I sigh to myself contentedly. The halfway point on this trail is near the Tualatin River. I can’t hear it, but the scent here is different than on the portion of the trail near the highway and the marsh ponds. The strange feeling of being between places or experiences persists. Is it the autumn fog or the moment itself? I can’t tell.

… Don’t feel like hearing me bitching about chronic pain? Skip the next paragraph…

I woke in pain. I’ve taken medication. Stretched before I headed down the trail. Did my PT stuff. Doesn’t matter, the pain accompanies me every step this morning and sneers at my meds. Today it is limited to head, neck, shoulder, and it is exceedingly clear that my neck is the source. I grimace, massaging my neck as well as I can. It’s not an especially helpful effort. I remember some things from the appointment with the specialist yesterday and try something he had recommended and demonstrated with me. It helps. It’s not perfect, but it’s definitely better. Better is good. An acceptable outcome.

New pastels arrived yesterday from a reputable brand with a long history (a characteristic I really value is that feeling of “legacy” provided by distinguished old brands). I hope to spend time painting today, pain permitting. I stretch and feel joints popping and pain easing a bit. I rub my hands slowly, gently. The arthritis developing in my thumbs vexes me. (How many more paintings are left in these hands?)

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I sit with my thoughts awhile. I am unbothered by the ticking clock of this mortal life, this morning. It’s Saturday and for the weekend, my life is not limited by clocks. That feels better than what seems reasonable.

Daybreak comes to the foggy marsh. I get to my feet, ready to begin again.

Morning. Another one. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful to see another sunrise. Life gets complicated sometimes, though, and it is a lot to take. It’s rarely “all on me”, or even about me (in many cases it’s nothing to do with me at all).

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

It’s not even daybreak yet. It’s quite dark on the trail this morning – clear starry sky, the full moon overhead.  I walk down the familiar trail with a measure of confidence, the bobbing circle of light ahead of me from my headlamp is plenty to see by. I walk with my thoughts, enjoying these moments of peace and quiet reflection; they may be the only such moments in a busy complicated day.

I get to my halfway point and take a seat on the nearby bench.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. Chilly morning. I’m grateful for the warm sweater and cozy cardigan I threw on over it. I can see my breath this morning. Fall. The potential beauty of the morning is thrown off by concern for my Traveling Partner. I find myself wondering whether I should call out from work to take care of him today? For the moment my own pain takes a back seat in my awareness. I breathe deeply, and exhale slowly, working to stave off my stress before it can become a panic attack. My partner needs me to be capable and to provide care. I remind myself that I did it for two years, and I can resume doing so capably, now, when my beloved needs me.

Breathe. Exhale. Relax. Sometimes shit gets complicated. That’s just life. We all go through shit, and it is sometimes the worst we’ve ever been through. Resilience is built over time, but it can sure feel like it can be used up in an instant.

I sigh to myself feeling restless, and for a moment a little trapped and hopeless. I remind myself that change is, and very few moments last. Most things are pretty impermanent, actually, so I take another breath, exhale again, and do my best to relax. I’ll keep practicing.

Still not daybreak yet, but there is the faintest hint of something more deep dark blue than utterly black about the sky. A new day. I keep working to quell my panic (an inner voice snarls at me, “no one has time for this weak ass shit, knock it off”). Breathe. Exhale. Relax. Repeat as needed. I struggle to get comfortable with myself this morning. My mind refuses to settle down or focus, like hearing a fire alarm I know is a test, and still feeling it is urgently necessary to leave the building. This is absolutely not a test – it’s life. Sometimes it’s complicated.

I sigh to myself and hope I get through the day with my perspective intact, and able to provide any caregiving my partner needs. I stupidly look at my watch in the dark. Pointless. I do know it’s time to begin again… I get to my feet and turn to head on down the trail and back to the car.