Archives for category: health

I’ll keep doing my best…but…

…You don’t have to read this. In fact, I strongly suggest you skip it. I’m going to vent a bit, and share too much, and be too angry, and maybe you just don’t need that right now? Fucking drama, right? I know I don’t need this shit… I also don’t need to save it up to blow up over some even smaller bullshit later on. So, I just need to say words. You don’t have to read them, though…

Sure, it could be better, but it could also be a whole lot worse.

I didn’t get enough sleep last night. I woke with my headache “turned up to 11” this morning. My back aches with my arthritis. I’ve been dealing with a ton of “extras” – extra needs, extra tasks, extra negative emotions from people, extra calls on my calendar, extra email threads – and too little actual bandwidth to deal with it all comfortably, or easily, or with any particular measure of grace. Too much to do and I’m stretched to thin to be good at any of it. I’m just doing my best – and it’s clearly not enough to get the job done like a pro.

I catch tears welling up over and over again. Twice they dripped down my cheeks as I sat at my desk trying to focus on the task at hand. So… on top of all the other bullshit, I’m clearly also dealing with my own – while I sit in an open shared “public” professional (cowork) space. It’s awkward. Uncomfortable. Inconvenient. Inefficient. Distracting. (I’m still doing my best.)

…I even saw today coming, because it was pretty fucking predictable, and in no way actually “personal”…

On top of all that? The lights here are too bright. The office is too cold. My tinnitus is crazy loud. I’m noise-sensitive af. I broke a nail below the quick, and the broken bit snagged on the fabric of this office chair and tore right the fuck off – which hurts like hell, but nothing like this g’damned persistent now-going-on-11-years headache that follows me every-fucking-where, and for which no one (thus far) seems to have any useful insight on it, diagnosis of it, or treatment for it. It’s just there. Reliably. For 11 fucking years now.

My smile feels brittle when I have to interact with someone. It’s not real and doesn’t reach my eyes. I’m aware of it, and I feel self-conscious on top of being in pain. I want to do more, and do it better, and “be there” for everyone who needs me to be – especially my Traveling Partner, who’s dealing with his own misery today (and it’s probably worse than mine,) and who definitely needs my help, my love, and my care.

Why bother to drop this on you? Mostly because you’re here. Writing is a way I cope with complex emotion and shit that is overwhelming me. (Are you still reading this?? I did try to warn you…)

I breathe, exhale… I keep trying. I keep going. I just keep stepping through the various motions of various practices and waiting for something to click… for success to catch up with me… My results vary. Today, my results are not everything I need – they’re just all I’m going to get, apparently.

Hard is hard. The chaos and damage of trauma linger way past when we expect it to, and sometimes that really complicates things. It’s easy – too easy – to take all of it personally (it so clearly is not). My poor quality sleep impairs my thinking and limits my resilience. The work day limits my focus – but there, too, I’m struggling. It’s hard to focus. Hard to stay focused when I get there. I’m distracted by what’s going on with me and what’s going on with my partner and his health. Messy.

…Sometimes doing our best doesn’t get results that feel like enough, but it’s not actually possible to do “more than our best”. Frustrating. Enough has to be enough, but often it doesn’t feel like it is. Sometimes, our “best” is within reach, if we just reach farther, dig deeper, but g’damn… when does that ever end?

…I’m tired and I’m frustrated and I’m in pain. Still not personal. Still just sucks. So human. What is there to do about it besides take a minute to breathe, maybe time to meditate, stay on the path, and begin again? Nothing, I guess… but that doesn’t make it any more comforting when it doesn’t feel like enough, or any easier to practice when it doesn’t immediately feel effective.

…What a shitty fucking day this is so far…

…I’ve still got to begin again… again.

This too will pass.

Complicated morning. Some mornings are like that.

I woke too early, and faced with my Traveling Partner’s stress after a bad night, I quickly agreed to just go ahead and get dressed and go to work (at a cowork space) and got dressed and left. The cowork space available to me now doesn’t open until 07:00 a.m., and it was not yet 04:00 a.m., I figured I would just drive to the nearby nature park, and get a walk in as the sun rose. This works for me.

I made a stop at the 24-hour gas station, on my way by and bought a can of cold brew coffee. It was still so early, none of the coffee places were open yet, but I really wanted some coffee, and my headache was making that feel non-negotiable. So. Canned coffee it is.

…And also? Fuck pain…

I got to the nature park so early, it wasn’t open yet, either, and I had to wait for the gate to open at daybreak. Thats okay; I’m good at waiting. It’s just unusual to wait for the gate on a morning when the sun rises so early. lol

Yesterday, I spent my birthday with my Traveling Partner. We hung out watching videos most of the day. It was a simple day relaxing at home, complicated by my partner having had an allergic reaction to medication he’d been given. Seems like yesterday saw him over the worst of that. (Fucking hell, he’s been through so much this year. I wish I could do more to help.)

I’d have worked from home today to be around to provide support and care giving when needed, but my partner is likely to be incredibly irritable today as he finishes the process of coming off the medication that he reacted to… We both agreed, yesterday, it would probably be best if I wasn’t home for that if possible. (This morning’s early wake up call was a bit unexpected, but beyond that, the day seems pretty routine.)

…G’damn, canned coffee is honestly pretty fucking awful…

I had the trail to myself when my walk began, shortly after the gate opened, and after a brief text conversation with my Traveling Partner that tended to confirm his impression that he’d be so grumpy today that my best choice would be to be elsewhere. It stung a bit to have my loving-kindness thoroughly misunderstood, but I understand the shit he’s going through.  I let it go and got on with my walk. The trail became fairly crowded quite quickly for so early (and on a work day), but summer is nearly here, so perhaps I should not be surprised. Other than some silent greetings, a hand wave or a nod or smile in passing, there seemed a tacit agreement that it’s too early for speaking, and I continued my walk more or less alone with my thoughts.

…The sunrise was as close to being “boring” as a sunrise can be, with the dawn coming to clear skies, and nothing more exciting than a hint of yellow low on the horizon. I’m nonetheless supremely grateful for a new day and a chance to begin again. 61, eh? 😆 Feels just like 60…

Grateful for another sunrise.

I stop at my halfway point to sit, meditate, and write a few words. This bit of writing is a practice I find incredibly helpful for gaining perspective, and for practicing non-attachment and gratitude. It’s a bit like practicing self-reflection “out loud” to share my thoughts with you this way, though we may never meet, or discuss what I’ve shared. I often use the opportunity to reframe my bleaker or more difficult moments in a way that provides me greater depth of understanding, more insight (I hope), and positivity. I admit it; it takes some effort to be positive and practice gratitude, sometimes. I’ve definitely found it worthwhile as practices go. Cynicism, pessimism, and negativity never served me very well at all, and actually seriously limited my ability to grow, to heal, and to thrive. I’ve never regretted giving those up in favor of optimism, positivity, and a zest for living a life rich in joy and wonder. I can’t force anyone else to see things my way, or make this change in thinking. It’s enough to share that it has been meaningful and worthwhile for me personally to make this change. (It does take practice and my results do vary.)

…The sun climbs higher into the clear blue of the June sky, as I sit with my thoughts…

I hear voices approaching from around the bend in the trail and check the time. Looks like time to head back to the car and make the drive to the cowork office.

…It’s definitely time to begin again.

Restful night. Pleasant morning. Good walk down a familiar trail. I feel prepared for the day ahead, organized, calm, and comfortable in my body. It’s a good starting point for the (day and the) week.  The weekend was a good one, although nothing stands out as noteworthy; it was well-spent in the good company of my Traveling Partner. I got a few things done without exhausting myself.

The colors of morning.

A colorful sunrise greeted me as I reached the trailhead. The parking lot was empty (it generally is at this hour). I enjoyed the trail to myself and watched the sun rise as I walked. It’s a lovely Monday morning, two days before my birthday.

…There’s no significance to this particular birthday (61), and I have no particular plans. I’ve already received my birthday presents; my Traveling Partner loves making me smile and seeing my joy, and it’s hard for him to wait for the actual day. lol I don’t mind at all. I feel very loved.

I sit with the sunshine at my back, perched on a picnic table a short walk from the car, writing, thinking, and enjoying the start of this new day. We don’t know how many beautiful sunrises we may see in one mortal lifetime… I hope I have many more, and take time to appreciate them all!

…Monday…

…A lifetime goes by so quickly…

The season is beginning to be more summer than Spring. This morning I’ll begin watering the lawn and garden on a summer schedule. Working from home makes such things pretty easy to stick with. Last week I took some of my meetings (remotely) in the garden, and it was delightful. It also brought my attention to a couple tasks I’ve fallen behind on; I’d let the salad greens bolt, and the weeds are getting out of hand. I spent some weekend time putting things right. I brought in a noteworthy harvest of fresh peas.

…Time spent in the garden seems to run on a different clock…

An ordinary enough life, on a contented joyful Monday morning, feeling purposeful and prepared. This is an experience built over time. Built on carefully chosen practices, and principles of resilience, sufficiency, self-care, mindfulness, and non-attachment. I work at this, and my results vary. I’m for sure going to enjoy it when things are truly going well, and I am feeling good. Pain? Not relevant this morning, and it fades into the background as I enjoy the moment. (“This too will pass.” Change is.)

…So much of my day-to-day joy and contentment is built on steady practices and incremental change over time. It’s achievable. Reliable. There are verbs involved…but it is possible to get from “there” to “here” through those means. Start. Practice. Fail. Begin again. Repeat. Don’t take the required effort personally, just do the needful.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I feel the shadows of bad dreams in the night dissipate in the morning sunshine. I’m here, now, and it’s a lovely morning to begin again.

This morning I woke gently, aware of what a good day yesterday was, in spite of its difficult beginning (which, honestly, “wasn’t all that”). I found myself musing briefly over how easily a day getting off to a good start can “go off the rails”, and how often a seemingly poor start nonetheless finds its way to a pleasant day. The beginnings do not determine the outcomes. There are so very many choices and opportunities along the way, it seems a poor practice to insist on an entire day being whatever some one moment happens to be.

The morning is off to a promising start. I don’t read anything into it, and refrain from setting myself up for failure by expecting all the moments ahead to be as this one pleasant moment happens to be. I’m also not looking for disappointment or anticipating chaos. It’s simply a moment and I am enjoying it as it is.

As I leave the house to head down the road to a favorite trail, I’m greeted by a peculiar piebald sky. Past daybreak, which comes quite early this time of year, the sky is pale, a faded blue-not-quite-white, and scattered patterns of small dark gray clouds that crowd the northern horizon. Stormy looking, off in the distance. As I drive, a pink and magenta sunrise peeks out from among the distant hills, and I delight in the boldness of the colors with each glimpse. It doesn’t last, and I never quite get a view of it that lasts long enough to snap a picture. Some experiences have to be enjoyed as they happen, and there is no opportunity to save these for later, outside our fleeting memory.

Perhaps rain later…?

I get to the trailhead, put on my boots, and step onto the trail with a smile and my thoughts and a promise to finish this later.

Nice morning for it.

The air is mild and the morning very quiet. I had the trail alone this morning – a pleasant luxury. I walked with my thoughts, which were mostly rather practical.

I began tidying up my studio yesterday, and there’s a bit more to do. Because I had the option of working from an office in the city over the past 8 months, (and with my Traveling Partner injured), necessity and convenience slowly turned my studio into something more like storage than a creative work space. lol It makes sense to get that sorted out, and my studio returned to a clean and tidy work space, now. No office to go to presently, and my partner’s son moving in soon (temporary and welcome), I need this space for artistic endeavors, but also for work (doubles as my office), and even as a “personal retreat”, when I just can’t deal with people and need some solitude. It isn’t intended to be storage space, aside from the closet, in which my stored artworks are kept until they sell or hang somewhere.

…Yesterday was a lovely productive day…

I walked and thought. Nice morning for it.  I saw nutria playing along the marsh, at the waters edge. The young ones born this year are exploring their world with playful curiosity. I walked past a small herd of deer, which quietly watched me back as I walked past. (They were gone when I returned down the trail heading for the car.) There were little birds everywhere, squirrels too. The meadow flowers made the air sweet with their scents. The lupines are done blooming and are going to seed. Other flowers take their turn blooming. The trees are all fully leafed out now, and signs of summer are everywhere. Seasons change. Change is.

I get back to the car too early to head right home. I’d like to let my Traveling Partner sleep awhile. I take time to finish my writing and to meditate.

Sitting with my thoughts.

I think ahead to what my next bit of away time might be? I sigh impatiently when I recall I’ve never yet spent even one night home alone in our home. I yearn for that small luxury, but it  hasn’t worked out any time my Traveling Partner has made plans to be away.  Four years of projects, business,  and camping trips cut short by inclement weather, or deferred by illness. Travel plans derailed by injury or circumstance. It just hasn’t worked out; I’ve never been home alone here for more than a few hours, and even then in steady contact with my Traveling Partner throughout. We may as well have been in the living room together. lol Sometimes frustrating. Sometimes disappointing. Mostly I just feel loved. I hold out hope that I may yet experience the luxury of solitude at home, here, eventually… I’m for sure not holding my fucking breath, though!

…I’m not even bitching, really, I’m fortunate to have other options to get the solitary time I need…

So… yeah… sometime in these upcoming summer weeks maybe another camping trip? Maybe a weekend on the coast in a favorite little hotel? Maybe a road trip to see distant friends, with the solitude being a nice interlude between visits? I know the busy-ness and chaos of getting my stepson moved in later this month will take a lot out of me, and potentially leave me scrambling for any kind of alone time at all, grateful perhaps to find even 10 minutes alone behind a closed bathroom door, or in my office during the work day during an uninterrupted hour. I know how such circumstances affect me. I also know to plan ahead in summer months.

…I think about late July and wonder…

…On the other hand, I don’t know that I will be free to travel, at all; my partner has surgery coming up, not yet scheduled  but expected to be scheduled soon for a date as early as available (not an emergency, but a high priority)… could be I will need to be home to care for him (and of course that needs to come first).

I sigh and catch myself grousing silently about the inconveniences and difficulties of adulthood… but I silence myself; I’m fortunate that these are the challenges I am facing. It could be ever so much worse. I take a moment for gratitude. Happy to be in the partnership I’m in, with a human being who lives me deeply, and looking ahead to enjoying the summer at home, puttering in my garden, and living my life gently. It’s enough.

I smile, breathe, exhale, and relax, watching the blue sky spread from horizon to horizon. I  look over my rather practical list of things to do today and add a reminder to cut back bolting greens in the garden and harvest peas for dinner. Looks like a lovely day ahead and it’s time to begin again.

I got my walk in early. I started just at daybreak on this mild Spring morning. I walked a bit aggressively, lost in my own thoughts, eyes fixed on some point ahead,  but without really seeing. I felt cross about the way my morning started (with my Traveling Partner’s aggravation over being wakened and struggling to breathe, as I finished dressing to leave).

…Took me awhile to let it go…

I had wished him well and expressed my hope that he could get back to sleep. He didn’t seem to think he would and expressed that in a way that kept our exchange on my mind as I walked along, over-thinking it unsatisyingly.

…I seriously could have done a better job of letting it go, and letting small shit stay small…

I didn’t really begin to enjoy my walk or adjust my attitude until after he pinged me a cute sticker of a little cat tucked in for sleep, indicating he was going back to bed. Damn, I love that guy. At that point, I was easily able to settle down and sort myself out, with a sigh and a smile and a feeling of gratitude. Shit could be a lot g’damn worse in life (and love).

…We’re each having our own experience…

When I sat down to write, I took a quick look at the “page stats” for this blog (it’s not about numbers so much as insights into what people choose to read, and I often find new relevance in old writing). I found myself re-reading a post from almost 18 months ago, and reflecting further on perspective, change,  and the importance of self-care. It gave me real clarity on the morning, and restored my sense of perspective generally, and how good things truly are. Reading a relevant older post is another way to “be there for myself”, and practice good self-care, and another way to regain perspective. (I say a silent “thank you” to the reader who read that post yesterday; reading it this morning was helpful.)

…My Traveling Partner is on his own journey, having his own experience, and taking that at all personally isn’t a helpful approach to partnership…

Here. Now. Perspective. Sufficiency.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s a pretty morning. The temperature here is a comfortable 50°F or so. The sunshine lights the blades of grass and the trunks of the oaks in the grove where I sit perched on a picnic table enjoying the sunrise. It’s still quite early and I am not rushing back to the house. I’ve got a cup of coffee and this quiet moment to myself and I am enjoying it.

…Sometimes the best thing I can do to take care of myself is to simply take a few quiet minutes to breathe and reflect…

Later today I will take my Traveling Partner to an appointment with a specialist. I hope there is promising news about what can be done and what the long term prognosis for his recovery from his December injury may be. It’s hard watching him suffer and struggle. I feel so helpless so often. I definitely want to do more to alleviate his pain and discomfort than I seem able to. It’s not about me, though; I just want this human being I love so dearly to be okay.

I sigh out loud and catch myself picking at my cuticles anxiously. Yeah… still human. Still prone to worry and stress. I breathe the fresh Spring air deeply and exhale slowly. I can smell the hedge roses that are on the other side of the parking lot adjacent to this park where I am sitting, and the scent of recently cut meadow grass. I enjoy the smell of Spring, grateful that my seasonal allergies are nothing like as severe as my Mother’s allergies, or my Traveling Partner’s. They’re mostly pretty mild, and seem very specific to certain local flowering trees. That time of year is already beginning to pass.

I am in rather a lot of pain this morning. It’s been an issue all week. I take the medication I have for it. I cope the best I can. I remain unwilling to let my pain call my shots and I try to “just live my life” in spite of it. My results vary. I make a point of not complaining much about it, to the point of generally mentioning it only in passing, if I mention it at all, in conversation. It’s not that I find this to be a helpful strategy, it’s just that there’s nothing to do about it, really, that I’m not already doing, and I am very much aware that my partner is in a great deal more pain than I am. I don’t want to make that about me. I just want to do my best to support and care for him while he’s injured and working on recovering. He knows I am in pain, it’s a chronic condition. No point making that “a thing” – right now it’s just a distraction.

I sit with my coffee and my thoughts awhile longer. Soon enough it will be time to begin again.