Archives for category: Logic & Reason
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What Matters Most?

April 28, 2024 //
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It’s hard to care about progress toward goals with tears pouring down. It’s hard to celebrate a joyful moment in the midst of angry criticism (however legitimate or well-intentioned). It’s hard to care about anything, and for the moment, I’m mired in this experience of deep sorrow and dread. I’m “shook”. I’m triggered. I’m grievously stressed out – by the person in my life who cares for me most, and who I hold most dear, myself.

…It’s just a moment…

…Breathe, exhale… begin again…

I tell myself the things I know I need to hear. I work towards perspective – and forgiveness – and I just… still hurt. I’m still crying. It’s still fresh.

I 100% absolutely unequivocally without exception completely and entirely loathe being yelled at. I don’t respond to it well at all. Maybe it doesn’t rise to the level of someone else’s idea of yelling? Perhaps it doesn’t, but I don’t do well with the escalated hostile angry confrontational tone to something that could have been handled with kindness, humor, and love, and treated as a human moment. Was it a big deal? Not for me to decide. Clearly it was a big enough deal for my Traveling Partner to lash out at me in the way that he did.

…It’s just a moment…

He’ll probably move past it far sooner than I will be able to. I hope he does, I don’t honestly want him also hurting over it, and I’d rather see him happy and okay with himself and with life, generally. I want that for both of us. Right now… I’m alone with my tears. At some point, I’ll probably be okay, and more easily able to nurture myself, and offer him kind words and put things right somehow.

(This wasn’t “a big deal”, and there’s nothing to see here, no violence, no trauma, just expressions of temper and frustration and angry words, and emotions, and it’s unpleasant and I’m unhappy, but these experiences are also part of the human experience – we’re not perfect creatures capable of full-time rationalism uncomplicated by our feelings, ever. We are creatures of emotion and reason – and emotion always arrives to the party first.)

detail of “Emotion and Reason”, acrylic on canvas with glow and ceramic details. 2011.

I breathe, exhale, and feel the throbbing of my headache, reliably worsened by the stressful moment. I didn’t sleep well last night, and although we were making light of that earlier in the day, it’s no laughing matter right now. The lack of rest has consequences for my emotional regulation. So… I’m alone with myself; the only person I know fully capable of accepting me as I am right now, and dealing with it without making it worse. (Which is a sign of real growth, and I take a moment to appreciate it that I can “be here for myself” in a way I simply couldn’t have 10 years ago.)

Fucking hell. What a shit show. People fucking suck… every one of us. So fucking human. Sometimes that really just sucks all the balls. My nerves are raw, and my emotions are in chaos. It’s a shitty place to be.

…I sit awhile “listening” to my tinnitus. It’s louder, too. It hisses and chimes and rings and buzzes in my ears while my head throbs and my heart pounds. Tears well up. My nose runs. I try not to make shit just that little bit worse by anticipating a shitty day tomorrow as a result of this shitty moment right here… tomorrow will be a new day. A new beginning. A reliable chance to reset and make choices in favor of a different experience. I’ll go to work. The routine will feel comfortable – and comforting. I remind myself this too will pass…

I take a moment for gratitude. It’s been such a lovely weekend. Rainy, mostly, but blue skies now; the sun came out at midday, and there’s a pleasant Spring breeze blowing. I got the things done I most needed to, and that I’d committed to doing. There’s still some laundry to fold, but I haven’t had to push a bunch of stuff off to another day. All of that matters, even if this moment seems to diminish it.

…I feel sad, though. As is so often the case, I was in such a lovely mood when shit went sideways. I suppose that’s likely to be the perspective any time shit does go sideways, eh? It’s probably going to feel as if “everything” has suddenly turned from golden joy and delight to … shit. I wonder how accurate that ever actually is? Was it just an ordinary moment that now seems vastly better than it was, because the moment that followed was just that bad? I think about that for a moment, and consider the nature of “perspective” and how subjective that can actually be.

The tears well up all over again, and I find myself feeling profound self-doubt about whether there’s even any value in hitting “publish” on this – whenever I finally stop writing. A missive of pain… seems… somehow tedious, or selfish, or pointless, or… just somehow lacking. I feel anhedonia lurking in the shadows, waiting for a moment of unsuspecting vulnerability to let that shit creep over me like clingwrap, smothering me in ennui and sadness and that horrible sense of grim futility I know so well… Not at all what I want for myself. That shit is a terrible way to treat oneself. I sigh quietly, resigned to the struggle – and the headache – and wondering how the evening ahead will unfold. For the moment, I don’t feel welcome in my home, nor even in my life. Just… sad and out of place. Like… a familiar stranger.

…There’s still laundry to fold. A partner to forgive. A moment to move on from. Water to get started drinking (you know, because of all the fucking crying). Like it or not, the way out is through, and I’d better get started… I’ve got to begin again somehow. This time, it’ll need some real work – and I know my results may vary. I’ll just start with stepping through it as a process, and trust that the process will… work.

…I miss the wise women of my lifetime… my Granny. My mother. Most particularly my recently departed dear friend. I feel so… lonely, right now. Thanks for listening, if you bothered to get this far. I appreciate it. I’m sure I’ll be fine, I’m just hurting at this moment, right here… and it’ll pass. Moments are quite fleeting. You’re welcome to share your thoughts – perhaps your perspective will help. No expectations, just saying; I do read the comments.

G’damn this headache, though…

…Something, something… “begin again”… it sounds empty just at the moment, but I know the truth of it… so I’ll just get started on that… What else would I do?

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Categories Allegories, anger, anhedonia, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, grief, Logic & Reason, loneliness, Love, meditation, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, Spring, The Art of Being, The Big 5, women

Humans Are the F*ing Worst

February 14, 2024 //
1

I glare at my iced coffee for a moment. It’s a half-assed attempt at iced coffee, really, and I’ve already had enough coffee this morning. Still, I had a full cup of still very frozen ice, so I made a cup of strong coffee, let it stand until it was lukewarm, and then poured it over the ice. Simple enough. I haven’t even taken a sip of it yet, so I’m not sure why I made it.

The commute in was… fine. Traffic was light. Most of the people on the road drove safely, purposefully, and at the posted speed limit (maybe a couple miles per hour over it). It was fine. The few exceptions tended to be timid drivers staying in the right lane of two available lanes, and the occasional agro ass-clown driving so significantly over the speed limit as to be setting themselves up as “jack rabbits” – targets of attention making it possible for everyone else to just relax and drive knowing that asshole will be the one getting the ticket, if anyone does. Humans being human.

Human beings lie. Human beings cheat. Human beings act based on greed and entitlement. Human beings lash out violently in anger or based on a subjective feeling of having been transgressed upon. Human beings abandon children. Human beings bomb civilians. Human beings commit acts of violence against other human beings they claim to love. Human beings steal. Human beings attempt to stack the deck in their own favor without regard to the consequences to other human beings. Human beings rationalize and justify their worst behavior with convenient half-truths and bullshit. Human beings are too stupid to refrain from destroying the one planet they live on.

…Human beings are the fucking worst…

We could each (and all) do so much better than we commonly do. Just saying. Do better.

Yes, me too. Yes, you too. Yes, them over there? Them too. 100% of everyone could do better, I feel fairly certain, with the one possible exception of… babies. They’re doing their best every day just developing their cognitive skills, their sense of self and place in the world, and their ability to communicate – maybe help them out with that, and while you’re at it? Teach them ethics and critical thinking skills. Help them growing up knowing to do better – and knowing how.

…I make that sound so easy, right? lol I know, I know – how the fuck do we teach what we clearly don’t know? Tough one. Good luck. I know you’ll do your best, if it matters to you at all. Maybe it doesn’t matter to you? (See “human beings are the fucking worst”, above – I won’t be surprised if it doesn’t matter to you.)

G’damn that cup of iced coffee seems so unappealing now. Why did I even make that? I sigh out loud and wonder why I am in such an irritable mood? Decent commute. Even got to see my Traveling Partner (awake, I mean) and say good morning, and enjoy a kiss before I left for work. I’ve got this quiet, pleasant, comfortable space to work in, that even has a pleasing view of the park on the other side of the street. I’ve got a lot to be grateful for. I drive a car I like. The bills are paid. I have a job I enjoy and coworkers who are skilled and pleasant to work with. The weather has been mild. I’m not in too much pain to manage it today. So… wtf? Why this sour mood? 

I watch the sky slowly changing from the dark of night to the paler, bluer shades of morning-yet-to-come. All the ingredients of a lovely morning, but… here I am. My tinnitus is crazy loud this morning. My headache is… bad. Could be enough to wreck my generally jovial outlook, I suppose.

…On the other hand, human beings actually are the fucking worst, and isn’t that enough to make anyone irritable?

I finally take a sip of my coffee. It’s cold. It’s… coffee. It’s fine. I mean… it’s bitter, and not a great cup of coffee, but if it were my first, I’d be totally okay with it and probably find it entirely unremarkable, mostly. Probably wouldn’t complain about it at all. The complaining isn’t to do with the coffee, I recognize, it’s to do with the complainer – me. The human in the room. Like I said, we’re the fucking worst. lol It’s kind of a shame we’re what became the species acting as steward of this planet. We’re not very good at it, and we bitch about dumb shit way too fucking much.

I didn’t sleep well. Weird dreams. I went to bed at more or less my usual time, and woke shortly afterward from a nightmare that there was a spider in my CPAP mask (there wasn’t, but I did have to wake up and actually check). Later I had a nightmare that I’d forgotten all my passwords and none of them were saved. Later still, I had a nightmare that my Traveling Partner was… gone… and I was alone, penniless, unemployed, and quite old. I woke feeling chills all over, tears pouring down my face, and shivering from imagined cold in a room that was quite a comfortable temperature. (I was super glad to see my Traveling Partner awake in the living room when I got up!) Maybe the difficult night is the source of my poor mood? I guess that makes some sense.

Dreams are dreams, and emotions are not realities. I breathe, exhale, and relax, and work on letting all that go. It’s a new day. There were no spiders in my CPAP mask. My passwords are saved and I do remember those that I need most often, without difficulty. My Traveling Partner is very much a part of my life and I’m eager to see him at the end of the day. I’m alone, for now, but only because I am in this quiet work space, quite a bit earlier than my colleagues tend to start their days. As for being “old”, that’s pretty fucking subjective; I am the age I am. I don’t feel particularly young, but neither do I feel “old”. I’m somewhere in the middle. You know, like… literally “middle-aged”. LOL I shrug off the lingering affect of my poor night’s sleep… and begin again. 😀

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, Fiction, gratitude, 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, The Art of Being, turning 60, War and News of War, winter

Beginning, Becoming, and Updating the Software

August 29, 2023 //
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I’m sipping my coffee and preparing for an interview. I’ve got two today. In between those, I review other leads on suitable opportunities, and do coursework to refresh various certifications (and acquire new ones). Learning new skills is as much about a personal desire to continue life with a “growth mindset” – continued education has been demonstrated to slow cognitive aging – as it is to do with adding professional value. Both are worthy goals. Both require a commitment to time, study, and effort. I’ve got the time. I’ve got the curiosity and the will. All that remains is to make the effort. 🙂 So, here I am, with a hot cup of coffee and a highspeed internet connection. Studying. Updating my human software through learning. (First the learning, then the practicing!)

I haven’t said much about the CPAP machine and how all that is working out. I guess “okay”. Wearing the mask is… weird and uncomfortable sometimes, and it’s taken quite a bit of time (and mental discipline) to get used to it. I sometimes wake up in the midst of confusing dreams that I’m down in my foxhole on the perimeter, in the desert, at MOPP 4 in my NBC suit, mask on, waiting for an all clear that never comes. Stressful. It wakes me. I take off the mask, sit up for a moment and get my bearings. I breathe deeply. Sometimes I meditate for a moment or two. It passes. Sometimes, I wake up trying to turn over, and getting tangled in the hose briefly – but long enough to wake me, aware that I need to take more care. Sometimes, the sound of the machine wakes me. Sometimes the mask slips or shifts a bit, and I have to sit up and resituate the mask for better fit. Like so many things, getting it right takes some practice. I received my own machine just the other day (from the VA), so I’ll be returning this loaner to my local sleep clinic, and getting used to an entirely different model. Maybe better/easier? Maybe – maybe not. I guess we’ll see, eh? I’m certainly not questioning that I need this bit of support. I am sleeping more, and I’m not snoring (which means my Traveling Partner can sleep, which definitely a win). Whether the quality of that sleep is truly improved will be settled over time. I think I’m getting more/better rest… it’s pretty subjective, but I’ll go with it.

I started setting my sunrise alarm for an early time and getting up promptly and getting my day started, this week, returning to basic time management practices I associate with working. It was nice to take a break from it while my Traveling Partner’s son visited us, and then while I was down sick for a couple days. I even began sleeping past 07:00! The routine has value, though, and I’m taking advantage of it to get in some walking and writing time in the morning, and to give my partner a chance to sleep without me bumbling about and knocking into things, as I often do. It’s a routine that seems to work for both of us.

I look over my list of leads and tasks to tackle between interviews. First one coming up in about half an hour gives me time to study my notes before the call, and maybe get some fresh air and a bit of a stretch. I feel relaxed and ready. I feel worthy and centered.

…It must be time to begin again…

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Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, Logic & Reason, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Sleepless Nights, Summer, turning 60

Temper, Temper

August 17, 2023 //
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I opened my news feed by mistake, and the headlines… damn. This may not be “about you” or useful at all… it’s just on my mind.

Damn, People. What’s with the anger all the g’damned time?

What’s with behaving as if your anger, all by itself, justifies your shitty behavior, your tantrums, your unreasonable demands and expectations, and your very peculiar air of entitlement that the whole world (or at least some specific fraction of it) make changes to soothe you? I’m just saying… there’s a whole lot of strange bullshit and bad behavior associated with unmanaged anger. It’s… ugly. Domestic violence? Ugly. Child abuse? Ugly. Exes killing exes? Ugly. People screaming at other people who are just doing… people things? Ugly. Late flight tantrums? Ugly. Long line tantrums? Ugly. Parking disputes? Ugly. Bad neighbor bullshit? Ugly. Just fucking stop it – how about that? How about accepting that you’re angry about something, giving yourself a minute to reflect before you “deal with it” (at least as far as discussing it with some other hapless human), and (maybe breathe) then take a wise, measured, well-considered approach to resolving whatever fly is in your ointment today? I mean, for real? Stand down, you hostile belligerent badly behaved seething entitled rage-monkey – no one has time for your bullshit, and um, also? No one deserves to die over it. Anger is just an emotion. Check yourself.

Just saying. Why the fuck are you leading with your anger, or letting your anger call your shots in life? You’re a human being (I mean, most likely, if you’re reading this, you’re a human being). One of the big “features” of being human is the ability to reflect on our experience and manage our emotions. So… maybe do some of that. Like… all the time, please. It’s a practice. We become what we practice. If you practice being an angry reactive shithead, guess what you become? Something to think about. Anger management takes practice. Developing resilience takes practice. Becoming calm and reasonable takes practice. Having perspective takes practice. Making good use of wise perspective once developed takes more practice. Thinking before you speak takes practice.

…No, I’m not saying it’s “easy”, and yes, it does take work. “Practice” is a verb. You’re probably frustrated with this too, finding yourself feeling regretful after saying or doing some terrible thing to (or at) someone you care about. You can change.

I sigh out loud over my coffee. I’m generally in an exceedingly bad mood when I first wake up in the morning. It’s pretty reliably true that I do not want to talk to people before I’m “all the way awake”, which is generally after the first cup of coffee is gone, and the second one started. (This isn’t unique to me, there are a lot of folks who are less than approachable first thing in the morning, my Traveling Partner included.) I don’t always have the luxury of avoiding all human contact in the morning, though, particularly on work days, so I’ve had to learn to manage my temper, my words, my reactions to other people, how I hear things being said to me, and how I respond to both strangers and those close to me, until I have my shit together for the day. It’s been ages since I acted in anger first thing in the morning, or reacted unpleasantly to having to interact with people before I feel ready for all that – I’m proud of that progress, because the basic truth that I’m seriously all thorns and sharp edges first thing in the morning hasn’t changed at all. How I behave has changed a lot. Practice.

Change is within reach. Who do you want to be? What do you need to practice to be that person? Get started making that change – one small detail at a time is enough to get going, and then… just keep practicing. Fail? You will. You totally will. (I know I do.) Begin again. Do your best. Practice more. Practice something new or a bit different. Keep at it. Fail again? Yeah, that’s a thing – incremental change over time takes… time. Keep at it. We become what we practice. Practice being the person you most want to be. Every day. Yes, and after every failure. Reflect on that reflection looking back from your mirror – what does that person do and say at their best, in one situation or another? What could you have done differently to get a better result? Practice that.

But wait… what if you’re “legitimately provoked”, you may ask? You’re not going to like my thinking on this one, perhaps, but… that’s precisely when and why it matters to practice. Provocation is not an excuse for bad behavior in any real way. Just sort of makes it seem explainable in some understandable way that one might behave badly, but it doesn’t make it okay. It doesn’t justify bad acts. It doesn’t justify killing someone. It doesn’t justify saying terrible things. Nothing really does – because we absolutely have it within our power to do better than that, being what we are. Can’t manage to do better on your own? Get help. Do better.

(If that paragraph caused you to go down some extreme-scenario rabbit hole about self-defense or something, just stop it. Take a minute to hear me and think about what I’m actually saying, please.)

I’m sipping my coffee on a quiet Thursday morning. There’s nothing much going on, but I’m in pain and I am in a seriously bad mood – but I’m also enjoying the morning in spite of my emotional weather (because that will pass, and I have choices). I’m enjoying being able to choose to be pleasant and understanding, in spite of feeling cranky and out of sorts. I’m enjoying this good cup of coffee. I’m enjoying the outcome of taking steps to manage my temper this morning; I get to be part of a peaceful household characterized by pleasant conversation and love. Worth the effort.

I woke up ahead of my Traveling Partner. His son was already up. I took time to water the lawn and front garden before the sun heats up the day. When my partner woke, I took my coffee into the studio to “give him time to wake up”. This works for me; I get time to write, he has time to make his coffee and start his day with quiet thoughts. No conflict (real or imagined). No stress. Just a chill morning. He’ll let me know in some sweet way that he’s ready for the day by telling me he misses me, or inviting me to join him watching some short video that made him laugh, or coming in to see what I’m up to. When he does? We begin again. 😀

Practice being the person you most want to be.
(Painting by an unknown artist seen hanging in a local restaurant.)
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Categories anger, Anxiety, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Love, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, Summer, The Art of Being, War and News of War, Words

A Fence, A Crossroad, A Ledge

August 10, 2023 //
0

I am sipping coffee and thinking over metaphors drawn from travels of various sorts. My Traveling Partner is preparing to embark on adventure with his son; a camping road trip. I’m eagerly staying behind on this one and enjoying some solo time at home – a first since before we bought the house we now live in. I’m quietly excited about it, although life is life, adulthood has requirements, and there’s shit to get done basically every day, all the time. Dishes. Laundry. Watering the lawn. Picking up the mail. All the routine details of an ordinary life simply are what they are. I’m even okay with that.

_______________________________________

That was around 07:00 this morning. It’s now almost 15:00. …3:00pm. Later. Hours later. The house is quiet. The morning passed quickly as my Traveling Partner and his son finished with last minute preparations and decision-making. Eventually, the time came and they hit the road, seeming quite eager to be on their way. I was eager, too. Eager for the quiet and solitude, even for a few hours.

…Funny thing… As soon as my partner was gone, I was missing him (at least a little bit), and checking the map for his location almost hourly. In between? I was mostly doing housekeeping. Tidying up here and there. Listening to my thoughts. Feeling the heat of the day develop outside through the sound of the air conditioning occasionally coming on, and that happening more frequently as the day progressed. I made a quick trip to the store, and wasn’t surprised to find myself reluctant to leave the peace and quiet of my home. It’s a pleasant environment that suits me well. I smile again each time I walk down the hallway, recently hung with paintings that had been selected for the purpose some time ago. My partner made a point of hanging them up quite recently. Days ago, now, and yet I’m still smiling every time I walk down the hallway. Seeing the paintings hung with such care and my partner’s studious eye for detail, I feel so loved. These paintings tell the story of my life [as an artist] and each one reminds me of something I thought I had forgotten, and does so with such regularity that I’m fairly certain I don’t at all forget these things. Weird, eh? It’s the sort of detail a human primate can really get hung up on, but which has very little importance, relevance, or substance. It’s just a detail. There are so many. 🙂

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I think about my Traveling Partner and pull up his most recent reported location on the map. It’s a cool spot to camp; we had scouted it last time we were camping up that way, and hoping to find a site just maybe a bit better than the one we had settled on for that trip (which was a bit too close to a cluster of managed sites, and thus rather… people-y). We spotted this other site a short drive down the forest road and down a very rough narrow “road” (more a jeep trail, really), a bit further on, and agreed it looked like a great one for the next time we were up that way. Tucked away from the road, distant from other sites, and spacious, with a nicely done fire ring out in a small clearing. I’m delighted to see his location right there. 😀

The quiet feels good, like soaking in a hot tub, or getting a massage, or going back to sleep on a lazy weekend morning. Luxurious and nurturing. I had music on for a little while. While I was tidying up. I’ve since turned it off. It’s a quiet I enjoy – the sound of feeling safe at home. I savor it. All the minutes, and these quiet hours. Life and love are busy with interactions and communication; stillness is luxury. I’m not even complaining, I’m just saying I enjoy this, and I’m shamelessly immersed in the cognitive and neurological feelings of it. Hell, I don’t even have words for how good this is for me, or fully understand why. I think those details matter less than the experience itself.

…That’s the thing I was thinking about this morning… on this journey, whether an experience is “a fence” limiting us or holding us back, or a crossroad at which we must choose, or a ledge we teeter on the edge of, with some urgent question in mind is mostly a matter of perspective. Individual definitions, filters, lenses through which we consider our experience are every bit as “important” as any detail grounded in “the facts of the matter”. I think about this a lot. It seems worth understanding. I sit with that awhile…

I catch myself sitting quietly here at my keyboard, not typing, not even “thinking” really, just being. It’s not a very productive sort of endeavor, though, and I remind myself of things I’d like to do and enjoy while I have this time. …Where’s that book I’m reading…? I look at the time, without really caring to much what time it may actually be right now. I know it’s time to begin again. 😀

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, Logic & Reason, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being, turning 60
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