Archives for category: health
« Older Entries
Newer Entries »

Can’t Help But Let It Rain

April 30, 2024 //
0

There’s a steady rain falling. It’s been raining since I parked the car in the city, though the drive in was dry. There’s nothing at all to do about the rain, besides let it fall. The sky is a heavy gray, dark and moody, and the streetlights are still on; there’s not enough light to trigger the daylight sensors. The pavement shines, reflecting the streetlights. The trees in the park are a lush almost luminous assortment of greens. The cars turn the corners as they go around the park block, looking extra shiny, coated with the slick wetness of the rain. This is no mist. It’s a proper rain, and disturbs the surface of the pond in the park, giving the water an almost rough texture. I sip my coffee and watch the rain fall for a while, while I enjoy my breakfast salad (with a handful of blueberries, and a couple hard-boiled eggs). Lovely start to the work day.

I think about my upcoming camping trip, for some minutes, wondering how I will prepare for potential rain. A steady drenching rain such as this one, this morning, would certainly change my options out in the woods, or on the trail. For one thing, if I don’t have adequate overhead cover of some suitable kind, I’d have trouble cooking in the rain (that just also doesn’t even sound fun). I mean, I could hunker down in the opening of my tent, with my Jetboil carefully placed under the edge of the “vestibule” that projects somewhat forward of the tent opening itself, providing a wee bit of cover, and easily boil water for coffee or for preparing a freeze-dried backpacker meal. That’s certainly adequate… but I’ll be going prepared to actually cook real food, too… and I’m looking forward to being outside. It would be a very different experience to be “stuck indoors”, in my tent, facing a downpour. I smile; it’s not an issue, and barely a concern, really, and certainly this far in advance I’m just “borrowing trouble” and thinking thoughts of being prepared. My tent itself is a good one for outlasting the rain, generally, though I’ve never camped in the sort of tropical deluge that could soak through the best of tents… not yet, anyway.

I think about provisions for this camping trip ahead… “glamping” as much as camping, and I’ll have a small solar set up, and a portable fridge that’s pretty good-sized for one person (for 4 days). I sit munching my salad and thinking about what “four days of salad greens” looks like, and how much space that might take… This is the sort of detail that can throw off a plan, and I consider it with care, and with great joy. (I enjoy the planning, itself.)

…The minutes tick by as I amuse myself with my thoughts…

I have learned over time how very critical to my self-care it is to make time to “hear myself think”. These quiet moments of reflection, or even just daydreaming, really matter to my resilience, and my emotional wellness. I quickly begin to feel “crowded” and very much as if “everyone wants a piece of me” with nothing left over for myself, when I don’t make time for simple quiet reflection, and an opportunity to “hear myself think”. Being there for the woman in the mirror is a pretty big deal for such a small thing, and it pays off in calm, contentment, self-awareness, and the ability to maintain perspective and avoid taking dumb shit personally. Giving myself time to sit quietly with my thoughts reduces the likelihood that I’ll end up being a reactive asshole in some inconsequential moment that could potentially go sideways on a day I’m feeling cognitively “crowded” and overwhelmed by life. I’ve even noticed that I’m more easily able to keep track of “all the things”, when I make a point to take a few minutes to just chill and let my thoughts flow past, observed and unchallenged, for some quiet little while. Just saying; I find this a very good practice, though it can sometimes be difficult to find the quiet spot and the time for it. It’s worth making the time.

I sigh quietly to myself. I feel contented and calm. It’s a nice feeling. I’m still nibbling on this breakfast salad. lol That’s been a notable change with the addition of the Ozempic to my care plan; I don’t rush my meals. Like, at all. (All my life previously, I’ve basically wolfed down every meal as if someone might walk up and take my plate away, and in spite of being aware of this being a potentially unhealthy practice, as well as less than civilized for a bystander or dining companion to observe, it’s been a struggle to do things any differently.) Now it’s honestly a bit of a challenge to stay focused on the fact that I am eating a meal, and I’m definitely more likely to stop eating a bit before I notice that I feel “full”. I count this as a positive change, and make a point to notice, before moving on. It’s very nice to find that my consciousness is not dominated by thoughts to do with food, or meals, or cooking, or snacks… and I’m a little surprised, now, to understand that it had been for so long. Odd that there’s so little discussion of the cognitive changes associated with Ozempic… Seems worth discussing. (I’m no longer surprised by how many medications we take are “mind altering” that don’t get described that way, or understood to be so.)

My thoughts veer from cognition to consciousness to knowledge, and I find myself giving thought to what books to take on my camping trip… This “human computer” could use a “software update”! I’ve got a short stack of crypto currency and blockchain related books that seem relevant to my work, currently… but… maybe something more philosophical for this trip? Or… fiction? (I read very little fiction at this point in my life.) I don’t listen to audiobooks… I like real bound books that I can hold in my hand. I’ve got a ebook reader, and I use it quite a lot, but my favorite approach to ebooks is to read a bound book, then reread it as a ebook, which allows me to highlight passages and make digital “notes in the margins” without marking up the bound copy. I used to pride myself on having read every book I own… but I’ve fallen a bit behind on that, and I’ve now got some dozen or so books waiting on my attention, and limited bandwidth. lol It seems rather a shame to spend my downtime on work-related reading, so I turn my attention to books on other topics… Maybe a good time to read Thích Nhất Hạnh? I’ve got a couple books of his that my Traveling Partner gifted me after news of the reknown teacher’s death reached us. I haven’t yet read them all.

…So many books to read, so much to learn that has value, how inconvenient that time if finite…

…I sip my coffee and let my thoughts wander where they will. It’s that sort of morning…

Soon enough it will be time to begin again.

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, weight loss secrets, Words

A Headache and a Heavy Heart

April 29, 2024 //
0

I woke too early. My sleep was restless and interrupted. I finally stopped bothering to go back to sleep at 04:00 a.m. – it was just too close to when I’d typically get up anyway, so I got up, dressed, and headed into the office. Based on my mood alone, it’s a good day to go farther… just drive and drive, into the sunrise, and see where the road might take me… It’s a Monday, so that’s not really an option. Work. I remind myself that I’ve got a couple days solo coming up, camping, soon. I hold on to that idea as if with a clenched fist.

Making plans for solo time.

G’damn relationships are fucking hard sometimes. People are complicated and they need so much, and it changes so often! What matters in one moment seems unimportant in another, or in a different frame of mind, or from some other point of view at a different time. Complicate that further with individual trauma and baggage and bullshit, and… yeah… so hard sometimes. People are complicated. Me, too. It’s not reliably easy, this whole “getting along” thing… sometimes not even for lovers or devoted partners. There are verbs involved. Active listening skills to cultivate. Boundaries to set, manage, respect, be aware of. Little courtesies to offer no matter how tired we feel in the moment, or how bad we hurt inside. It gets messy, sometimes – we’re really just fancy fucking primates, with all the same poo-flinging tendencies of our ape and monkey cousins. I guess I should at least appreciate that human primates mostly fling metaphorical poo, verbal poo, and not actual turds, generally speaking.

“Lovers” 10″ x 14″ watercolor on paper 1992

I’m sipping my coffee feeling discontented and moody. I teeter between lingering anger and lingering hurt feelings. I nibble at my breakfast salad with moody disinterest in my health or fitness or frankly any other “hopeful encouraging bullshit” – that’s the kind of mood I’m in. Discouraged. Disappointed. Sad. It’s not a lack of progress; I could be celebrating progress right now, but I just don’t feel like it. I’m mired in my fucking emotional bullshit right now, thanks. I’m still eating this healthy breakfast salad, though. It’s “the right thing to do” in this moment, and I’m not going to give that up just because I’m in a snit over my relationship “difficulties” (relatively speaking, I’ve got it pretty good, and I’m probably being an ass to beef about it in the first place, I’m just in a terrible mood, dealing with lack of sleep and pain, and fucking cranky as hell).

Maybe it looks easy…but…

We more or less got the evening back on track yesterday. Shared dinner together. Watched a couple videos. There are still things we need to talk about, and omg I fucking hate that shit. I dread meaningful serious relationship-building conversations about boundaries and expectations and all-manner of fairly important “taking care of each other” details that so easily turn contentious because humans are human, and feelings are easily hurt. We too easily take too much shit too personally. We make small things over into big things, and do our best to “win” or “be right”, when what might be most productive is simply to listen and care and love each other. I’m not pointing a finger – these are generalities that most assuredly apply to me, too. (I prefer to discuss my own bullshit over anyone else’s bullshit; I know its measure very well, and it’s a helpful bit of introspection, whereas finger-pointing and blame-laying only lay the foundation for some future argument. That’s tedious and a huge waste of limited precious mortal lifetime.)

The smallest tokens of lasting affection can feel huge.

I sip my coffee. Breathe. Munch my salad. Watch gray storm clouds roiling against the background of pale morning sky. Think my thoughts and feel my pain. I think about my Traveling Partner sleeping at home and hope that he finally gets the rest he’s been needing, and struggling to get. Everything feels worse and seems harder when we aren’t getting the sleep we need. I sigh quietly to myself. I’m grateful to have the office alone this morning – I’m not fit company for other people, presently. I haven’t been sleeping well, either.

A token of affection. Love on a chain. The only heart-shaped locket I have ever owned.

I give the day’s work an irritated look. It’s all quite routine, and I am struggling to care and to commit. Lingering malaise and ennui and irritation are vexing me, and I’m struggling to let it go. There’s a reason non-attachment is a practice; it takes quite a bit of practicing. I pick the last leaf of arugula off my plate and drag it around in the last drops of vinaigrette with a total lack of regard for forks or good manners before I eat it and set my plate aside. It can be so hard to “make space” for my feelings, to feel them, process them, and proceed to “do what’s right” nonetheless – assuming I have a good idea of what I think “right” may be in this moment in the first place. I breathe, exhale, relax, and try again to just let this shit go, properly, and move on – to allow myself to separate yesterday’s painful moment from necessary future (loving, nurturing, productive) conversations about needs, boundaries, and expectations. I sigh, and remind myself that relationship building is effort and work and commitment and also love. It’s so easy to tear down relationships (and people), and so much more worthwhile to do something to build instead – in spite of how much harder that often feels (is?).

What could be more worthy of study than communication? Even though we are each having our own experience, we are all in this together.

I give myself a minute with my thoughts and my coffee, before I begin again. I know my results will vary – but I also know that love matters most, and that we become what we practice. I definitely need more practice at deep listening, and communicating, and boundary-setting, and setting clear expectations, and being fearlessly open… and I know I can begin again, and keep practicing.

Sharing the love, and sharing the building. Destruction is far less joyful.
Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Allegories, anger, anhedonia, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, grief, health, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, loneliness, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, The Big 5, weight loss secrets, women, Words

Benchmarks and Milestones

April 28, 2024 //
0

I’m paused on the trail. I arrived just as the park gates opened, put on my boots and got started down the trail moments after daybreak. The trail was still quite dim and I have it to myself, even now. I  set a good pace, and at my planned turnaround point (a riverfront viewpoint) I stopped to catch my breath and write. It’s a cool morning, but not so chilly that my fingers would struggle with my phone. I’m warmed through from the walk.

My night was wakeful and not especially restful after my Traveling Partner woke me up. I don’t remember why he woke me, only that it was difficult to get back to sleep, and my sleep was interrupted with wakeful moments and anxious dreams from then until morning. Less than ideal. He left me a sweet and kind apology note, which I saw when I woke. I’m okay. Not mad or cranky about it,  just not well-rested. Maybe a nap later…?

…There are nutria playing along the riverbank. I watch them awhile…

It’s a gray rainy looking morning. There’s laundry to do. Vacuuming. Salad greens in the garden are looking good, and I consider carefully harvesting enough of the more mature outer leaves for a salad for breakfast after I return home. It’s Sunday…

Today is a “benchmark day”. Time to take my next dose of Ozempic, do my weigh-in, and take a couple pictures of progress-to-date. This is my 4th shot. This is also the first time I’ve ever approached fitness and weight-loss from a perspective of actual eagerness and confidence, since I was  bodybuilding in the 80s. It helps to see the progress, and as with so many things, the progress is often only visible if I’m really looking for it. So, the meal tracking, weigh-ins, and weekly progress photos serve to help me see the reality of my subjective experience. I found myself actually excited to get to Sunday, my “benchmark day”, more and more as the week progressed, and here I finally am.

…I am curious about the outcome…

Life is full of benchmarks and milestones. Celebrating those, big and small, has real value, and amazing potential to lift us up – or “set us straight” about where we are on a given journey. I  sigh contentedly,  sitting in this place, listening to the birds, and the river as it flows by. It’s a beautiful morning and I made it to this goal, this lovely place to sit with my thoughts, in good time. That’s another piece of my fitness journey; overcoming my pain, and mobility issues, to “go further, faster”. I’m pleased to be back to being comfortable with 2.5 miles. I’m eager to reach 3… then 5… I’m counting on practice and incremental change over time. I know this works.

I’m grateful that I’m still walking.

A bit of daylight breaks through the clouds. It’s time to head back down the trail to other moments and beginnings…

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, turning 60, weight loss secrets

Unlimited Freedom

April 25, 2024 //
0

…Unlimited freedom… That sounds so good, right? And here in the United States of America, we have that… right? Nope. Not even close. Get over that shit sooner than later. LOL In the free-est country in the world, no one has “unlimited freedom”, ever, at all. It’s not a thing. We are each and all constrained by the limitations of the laws of our country, by the social contract we live under, by the rules and taboos of society, family, tribe, school, and workplace, and by the non-negotiable realities of, well, reality. lol There is no such thing as “unlimited freedom”. So. Yeah. Let that one go.

This lack of freedom from limitations on our freedom doesn’t have to be a colossal buzz kill, though… in the least free nation in the world, we’ve each still got some freedoms, and some freedom. Fewer than in the most free nation in the world, sure, but… the most important freedoms we each have can not easily be taken from us, as individuals, unless we choose to give them away.

I’m just saying… you can only drive as fast as the cars ahead of you and road conditions permit. You can only spend as much money as you have – or can borrow at a cost. You can only be as comfortable as the resources available to you permit. You can only be as well as your health and available medical care provide. You can only make choices based on the options you are aware of. There are limits. Constraints placed on all of us by reality itself. Those limitations on our freedom are non-negotiable. Fighting that by seeking “unlimited freedom” is … fairly silly. There are more productive uses of your time.

You are free to choose and free to act – and free to bear the consequences of your decisions and actions.

…Why am I even thinking about this? I don’t know. It’s just what happened to be stirred up in my thoughts this morning. I am sipping my coffee, pretending to be free of pain, watching the rain fall… and thinking about the rather ridiculous notion of “unlimited freedom”. We’ve each got “freedom up to a point” to work with, and it’s rather a lot (depending on geography and lines on a map) – but it’s for sure not “unlimited”.

I’m free to pretend to be free of pain… I’m fortunate to have prescription pain relief available, and it helps but doesn’t remove my pain entirely. So… How “free” am I? I mean… I have the freedom to choose whether to make my pain the center of my day. I have the freedom to choose what steps I take to manage my pain and to seek relief. The outcome isn’t so much in my hands; reality will have its say. Nonnegotiable. So. I’m in pain. It’s a rainy day and my arthritis is griefing me hardcore. It thoroughly sucks. But… I’m still free to choose not to make it the center of my day, to go on and do what I can with what I’ve got, and enjoy this moment, and the next, and maybe the entire day. That “freedom of choice” thing? That’s a big deal. It’s powerful. What we do with it has a lot to do with what our experience feels like – and how much “freedom” we feel we do have.

…Choose wisely…

I sit watching the rain fall. (I’m free to do so.) I sip my coffee. I think my thoughts. My mind wanders, I bring it back to the falling rain. I breathe, exhale, relax, and feel background stress I wasn’t fully aware of diminish. A new morning, new day, new beginning… and ahead of me so many small choices to make. There’s freedom in that. In both the new beginning, and in the choices – and there are so many opportunities to begin again, to choose well (or just choose, at all – I’m not telling you how to live your life). If we allow ourselves to tumble through circumstance without making willful considered choices… we’ve still chosen. It’s a wild ride.

What will you do with the time you have, and the freedom you’ve got? What does success look like to you? What options have you got to face what assortment of challenges on the path you’ve taken? Could you choose differently and get a different result? (tl;dr – yes.) Will you? Who even are you, when you are alone with yourself? Rhetorical but important questions… I think about them rather a lot.

How best to be the person I most want to be, living my best life as I understand that…? I sigh and finish my coffee. I guess a good first step is to begin again. 😀 I may not change the world… but I can change my experience. I’m free to do that.

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

The Weeds in My Garden

April 22, 2024 //
0

It’s early, but the sun is already up, and the sun rise is almost over by the time I get to my desk. I’m not running late, it’s just the changing season. I enjoy the variety, and take a moment to watch the evolving glow reflected in the windows of other buildings. Variety is certainly something I appreciate. This morning, that pleasure in going beyond “the routine” makes itself obvious in my choice of breakfast. I’ve been having a very high protein breakfast, lately, usually hard-boiled eggs, maybe with a small salad of mixed greens or spinach. This morning I’m having oatmeal with nuts and fresh fruit. The ventilation comes on, and I “enjoy” my breakfast with a side of sneezes – seasonal allergies. The trees are all in bloom, and the pollen eventually makes its way into the ventilation system. It is what it is. It’s not personal, it’s just… one of the weeds in the garden of life, I suppose. lol

The weekend was a lovely one, spent in the garden, and in the good company of my Traveling Partner. Time well-spent.

Some species of wild geranium is a very common weed in my garden.

I spent some of my time weeding various flower beds and around the base of some roses, and a small oak. The weed most often catching my eye is some kind of geranium. There are several, and without taking real time to study the features of this one, it’s hard to narrow it down. Invasive, sure. Commonplace, definitely. Mostly harmless, probably. Like a lot of weeds, it’s only a problem because it isn’t what I want to see growing in some particular spot. I pulled a bunch of them out, and tossed them in the yard debris bin, surprised to see that it is already almost full (for the first time this year).

I think about “the weeds” in my metaphorical garden (this life). Here, too, it’s sometimes hard to make an easy distinction between what is a “weed” and what is simply a wildflower growing in a less than ideal location. I think that over for awhile, sipping my coffee, and eating my oatmeal while I watch the sun rise. Because variety in life (and our experiences) is generally a good thing, it makes sense to approach ripping out our “weeds” with a certain bit of caution, and a sense of consideration – what makes a weed? Is there no lasting value to the things we consider “rooting out” of our experience? In the garden, and in life, there are definitely some scenarios in which the “weedkiller” of choice is more toxic than the displaced wildflower that seems so unwelcome in the moment… just something to think about. Certainly, it makes sense to eradicate the “toxic plants” in our metaphorical garden, just as it makes sense to maintain walking paths, stepping stones, flower beds, and structures with care and a sense of aesthetic. There is work to gardening, and to living life (well). The effort pays off in more substantial harvests of better quality, and the joy of simply being in the garden on a lovely Spring day. The flowers are worth a pause, to enjoy the scent, the colors, and the textures. Around every corner is a new perspective, a new angle of light, a new moment of wonder to embrace and enjoy. This is true in the garden and in life.

…The thing is, if we put so much time and care into creating and maintaining our garden, then only “see” it as we exit the car and head into the house, or leave the house for some other destination, without making time to simply enjoy the garden, itself, we miss out on much of the entire point of gardening, in the first place. This too, is true in life as well as in the garden…

So… I guess I’m saying, in spite of the busy-ness of adult life, and the demands placed upon me by work, and home, and responsibilities, and goals… I do myself a tremendous favor by slowing down to really enjoy the journey. To stroll through life’s garden, smelling the flowers and enjoying the sunshine, is the point of having the garden (well, and maybe also growing food). It’s not really there for show, or to impress the neighbors, or while away the weekend hours “staying busy”… it’s there to delight, to offer respite, to present small wonders, and a moment to breathe the scents of Spring and find joy (and harvest tasty vegetables).

…I sip my coffee, and think about my garden – and my life…

Rose “Sweet Chariot” – and some weeds.

There’s so much to do. So much to put time, effort, and thought into. So many projects I would like to get to. So many paintings I’ve yet to paint, and books I still want to read. The journey is the destination – in life and in the garden. Is my garden perfect? Hell no. lol I’ve got weeds. I’ve got bare spots. I’ve also got… flowers, vegetables, and sunshine. No, my life isn’t “perfect” and neither is my garden – but it’s mine, and it’s worth my time, consideration, and enjoyment. There’s more to do, but there’s no point rushing – I’m already “here”, wherever “here” is, and there’s plenty of time to begin again.

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Roses, Spring, The Art of Being
« Older Entries
Newer Entries »