Archives for category: Healthy Living

Today might be too much, I feel it already. Rare these days, so the feelings really stand out –  helpful, more than aggravating, and I could use more of it. I can’t put my finger on something specific right now, or be certain things will go sideways at some point, but the potential for it exists as a distinct recognizable set of physical sensations that add up to an experience I recognize. It’s been a difficult day or two, and although I’ve adulted through it with considerable skill, generally, I’m quite human and there’s simply the possibility – leaning toward likelihood – that today it may all catch up with me. Can I make use of this awareness to treat myself well and gently, still get the day done, and perhaps dodge a meltdown, too? I guess I’ll find out as the day unfolds.

Well, sure. This.

Well, sure. This.

“Too much” is sometimes a thing to deal with. It’s not any more real than a lot of what I find myself mired in. “Too much” often reflects an unhealthy attachment to an outcome, or expectations that are unreasonable, or assumptions that are incorrect, piling up with circumstances that don’t bear that sort of emotional weight well. It’s that way today. A date with an acquaintance became a disappointment. The new job felt like a certainty, but fell through. A routine visit to a doctor becomes a referral to a specialist to rule out cancer – first. Disappointment adds to insecurity, which adds to worry, which adds to fear, which slowly becomes a soup of darker emotions, and a high risk of an emotional moment…or two…or some sort of meltdown. All very real. All very human. I could cash in my ticket for “a good cry” – haven’t done that, yet. As is so often said, it would probably do me good to just let go…once I can. Making a clear distinction between ‘balance’ (and treating myself well) and ‘repression’ (just sort of squashing everything down into a manageable presentation that seems appropriate to others) has huge value; hiding from my hurts doesn’t really work for me. “The way out is through” is real and meaningful today.

I have my ‘to do list’ for the day. I have events on my calendar. Purpose. A plan. I’ve also got this fragile vessel of flesh and bone to tend, and that’s rather non-negotiable for general wellness. I reconsider my list, move some things around, ensure that I keep a compassionate eye on myself today. I decide to trust my judgement – who knows me better than I do? – a meltdown today, you say? I think I have an opening on my calendar for that… if I must. lol Maybe later? Sometime after lunch? (Maybe not – that would be quite nice.) Either way, it won’t be necessary or useful to take it personally; I’m here for me.

Storms pass.

Storms pass.

Looking my concerns in the face eases them somewhat, at least for now. I sip my coffee, and start going down the list of things to do today. Today is a good day to be, and to do. 🙂

It’s morning. A Tuesday. The day is planned, and I’ll shower, dress, and head out shortly. The dawn was slow and gray, the sky heavy with fat rolling clouds, streaked with light as the sun attempts to break through here and there. My traveling partner sleeps in the other room. I am content and filled with joy, a pleasant start to the day.

A neighbor’s cat patrols the edge of the tall meadow grass just beyond the lawn. There’s generally one cat or another doing so at this time of morning. Red-wing blackbirds and jays mock them from the nearby trees, and as stealthy as the cats seem to be, I’ve never seen one of them catch anything. I’m okay with that – they’re clearly well-fed. 🙂

I sip my coffee, and think about the day to come. There’s paperwork to gather, and I check my list to ensure I don’t miss a detail. Today is a good one for rolling with changes, taking things as they come, and living the moment I am in – it doesn’t hurt to prepare for it. 🙂

Yesterday was a pleasant day with a handful of blue moments. The awareness of Father’s Day jockeying for position with the awareness that my father died some years ago was occasionally uncomfortable. It was a pleasant day, anyway. I spent most of the day at home, in solitude, reading, meditating, gardening, maintaining my aquarium, and generally contemplating life. I drank coffee – but not enough to keep me up late.

Pastel twilight, moon rising.

Pastel twilight, moon rising.

Evening came, eventually, and with it the delight of seeing the moon rise, just beyond the patio. I spotted it as I began turning things off to head to bed, and stayed up awhile longer to watch it rise, white and round like some magnificent pearl just out of reach. Totally worth the time taken to relax and watch the moon rise.

A brief lesson in impermanence when the rising moon disappears.

A brief lesson in impermanence when the rising moon disappears.

I slept mostly well, mostly fairly deeply, mostly without waking – or without waking in any significant way, at least. I woke sometime shortly before midnight. Again sometime after 1 am. My wakefulness was so brief, only as much time as needed to check the clock, it seems unfair to count it as not sleeping. lol I woke at a fairly usual time (if I were working), and after taking my medication I returned to sleep. Sleep really matters; if I am still tired, or not feeling rested, and the planned events of the day will permit it, I go back to sleep. This has worked out pretty well for me. Your results may vary. Obviously. We’re each having our own experience. 🙂

It is another lovely day. Is it wasteful to say so? Is it boastful? I’m not complacent about this delicate peace I’ve found within; like any garden, the work to maintain it is ongoing. So many verbs. 🙂

Later this morning, I’ll enjoy brunch with my traveling partner – the idea of brunch for Father’s Day was appealing (we both enjoy brunch out)…but… Father’s Day. Local bistros and breakfast places were definitely going to be packed. Instead of the crowds, we decided on brunch on Monday, instead. 🙂 I am definitely okay with that, since it is about enjoying my partner’s company over a meal, and not at all what date on the calendar we do so.

My coffee is finally cool enough to drink. The morning sun escaped the reach of the clouds on the horizon and shines a good morning flash into my eyes. The marsh and meadow birds celebrate the morning with song, and I watch a chubby raccoon hurrying across the lawn for a safer location now that daylight is here. The raccoon and the neighborhood cats on patrol at the edge of the taller meadow grass studiously ignore each other. There may be very few such Mondays left in my summer; I anticipate returning to the work force next week, most likely, and back to a routine built around 40 hours that are no longer my own. It often feels ‘too soon’…still… there are a few days left, and they are worth enjoying. Today will be a good day to go and do that. 🙂

...And I'll continue to practice the practices that are most effective for me. :-)

…And I’ll continue to practice the practices that are most effective for me. 🙂

This morning I woke with a Barry White song in my head, and thoughts full of love. 🙂 It’s a nice way to begin the day. I slept in, too, hours later than I typically do. I woke slowly. Yoga…meditation…walk…coffee… it’s a beautiful morning. I smile at myself cruising along powered by love, a seemingly limitless fuel from the perspective of this moment, right here. 🙂

Love matters most.

Love matters most.

I put on my favorite ‘sexy romantic’ playlist of love songs. It feels like that sort of day. I’ll see my traveling partner again tonight – I never tire of his warmth, his touch, his smile, his words. On my worst days, he can be such a calming presence. On my best days, he is pure joy. Sure, still human – aren’t we all? Our relationship is emotionally reciprocal on a level I find hard to describe. Is it enough to say that I return the favor – the love, the appreciation, the calming support – at every opportunity? (Depending on specifics, with greater or less skill – my results vary. Don’t yours?)

Love is reciprocal.

Love is reciprocal.

I sing love songs while I get laundry started. I realize with surprise that I’d wandered away from my writing without any particular awareness of being distracted by something else. I’m still smiling. Love tends to be somewhat distracting. lol

Love doesn't watch the clock.

Love doesn’t watch the clock.

I write today with new awareness of a pleasant bit of change; I feel love and I feel loved, and these feelings are not specifically dependent on today’s circumstances. They’re feelings. I have them. Some days I have them with similar intensity and a comfortably warm, merry glow, in spite of the circumstances of the day itself being fairly stressful or crappy in some way. Some days I feel love and I feel loved, even though I haven’t seen my partner, haven’t felt human touch, or interacted intimately with another human being, in days; today this seems very significant, if not understanding the experience then at least being aware of it, and valuing it. Today another puzzle piece drops into place, and I feel freed from some other bit of baggage – that bit that suggests love and being loved are dependent on circumstance, or the whims and moods of another. This morning it doesn’t feel that way at all; I am love, and my love is right here – to be accepted, to be returned or returned to, to be enjoyed, to be shared, to be savored, but it can’t be taken from me, or regulated, managed, parceled out, bought or sold, limited, or even destroyed. It’s mine.

Getting here was a journey - it is a journey to sustain love, too; there are verbs involved.

Getting here was a journey – it is a journey to sustain love, too; there are verbs involved.

The love songs have got me, this morning. I celebrate love. I want to shout “I get it now!” in some dramatic moment of hollywood-styled scripted enlightenment. I laugh tenderly and with genuine amusement at the woman in the mirror, recognizing that one element of my experience with my TBI is how completely unreliable my recognition of novelty is – maybe I’ve had this moment of recognition before? I’m okay even with that – how wonderful to recognize the mechanics of love, even for a moment?

Love is in the small things - strange for such a big deal.

Love is in the small things – strange for such a big deal.

I chuckle when I look back on what I’ve written so far this morning, and wonder if I am able to make any real sense on such an emotional topic when I’m immersed in it? I sip my coffee contentedly and note that the laundry will be finished soon…my ‘to do list’ this morning is a short one, and most of the day will be spent on study and meditation, until my partner returns to my doorstep, later. 🙂 Today is a good day to be love.

Love.

Love.

Today is singular. I woke early, from a less-than-ideally-sound sleep. I went back to sleep. I repeated this a couple times. My traveling partner was also not sleeping deeply. I sometimes snore, and I know I woke myself a couple times with it in the wee hours. This morning I am conscious of his need for sleep, and I quietly go about my gentle morning: yoga, meditation, study, a few minutes to pause and reflect on things I am grateful for and to appreciate my circumstances, a cup of coffee. I feel tender and sweet toward that human being in the other room, and enjoy treating him very well. I continue to treat myself well, too.

It is an unexpected (and unplanned) delight to have my traveling partner staying over, possibly for a couple days. I smile when I think about the delights of his day-to-day companionship, which I cherish. I frown briefly as I remind myself to continue to ‘handle business’, maintain my quality of life, and take care of myself well; it’s easy to lose track of everything but the warmth of his smile when he is staying with me. I’m very human. 🙂

Love matters most.

Love matters most.

Today is simple, my calendar is empty – that’s harder for me some days, rather than easier; there is still much to do with this precious finite lifetime and, since it isn’t on the calendar already, I’ll have to make it up as I go along. 😀  I’m okay with living life unscripted, actually. It’s taken some time to get here, but the conversations are profoundly more interesting when I don’t practice them in my head beforehand…and I hear more of what is being said. 🙂

Today I will do some things. Basic self-care will be among the things I do. I’ll prepare and consume calories. I will no doubt read something. Perhaps I’ll paint. The housekeeping is handled. The garden needs care. I find it rare to run out of things to do, and generally make a point of adding ‘sit still’ to my ‘to do list’ – not because I wouldn’t sit down for a moment, ever, if I didn’t – more because it reminds me that when I do, it matters to be in the moment, actually sitting, actually still, actually at rest, awake, aware, and committed to stillness. That moment of stillness is a big deal for me – and it can’t typically be had with the television on, sometimes even music in the background interferes with that needed moment of stillness, sitting, content, aware, not bored, not restless – calm and content.

A good day

What will I do with the day?

It’s a good day to chill. A good day for bird watching. A good day to walk in the sunshine, and to breathe fresh air.

Where does the path I choose lead?

Where does the path I choose lead?

Today I am in more pain than I’ve been in for a while. The cooler weather? It doesn’t matter too much why, the pain simply is, today. It’s just my arthritis, and it eases some with walking, and with yoga. The sense of being nauseous with pain is hard to shake, and unpleasant. It will pass. The pain isn’t terribly severe, just present, and I’ve been enjoying being in less pain with the hotter summer weather, recently (the contrast probably makes the pain seem worse than it is). This cooler more-like-spring weather returns and brings the pain with it. Today is a good one for seeking distractions. I’m okay with that. I find myself appreciating the luxury of not having to be at a desk for 8-10 hours while I am in pain; more freedom of movement results in less (and more manageable) pain.

Isn't this enough?

Isn’t this enough?

Today isn’t fancy, or busy, or well-planned, or filled with events or workload. It’s a day. It could be any day. This is the beginning and there’s so much more to come. If today were a shit day full of challenges and emotion, it would still be only a day, different from yesterday, different from tomorrow. Each one a new opportunity to do, or be, or go, or discover – or not – all at the ready to convert what I anticipated, expected or yearned for into what I recall. The stopover in this moment now, living, breathing, and being is all too brief. Today is a very good day to live now. I think I’ll go do that. 🙂