Archives for category: Logic & Reason

About that… it’s unavoidable. I’m human. You’re human (well, probably). Life is an extraordinary experience, but one which, for most of us, has quite a few ups and downs, and is a tad more rollercoaster-y than paved level walking path with convenient markers and a map. It’s just not always that easy. Sometimes shit goes very very wrong.

Do you panic? I’ve sure been known to. Life can be scary. I’m fortunate to have a better idea how to handle it than I once did, but… I’ll be honest; I still, now and then, stumble into a circumstance that leaves me feeling more than a little panicked and unprepared.

There are things to do. Steps. Practices. Start with one you know you can rely upon, and go from there. Breathe. First, generally, and most often of greatest value for me, personally; breathe, let it go for a moment, find that stable “observer” that exists within the emotional maelstrom. That’s you. Really you. The rest is window dressing and let’s pretend. Lead with your calm.

That sounds so easy. It’s not always easy. Yesterday I was reminded how not fucking easy that actually is. Having a supportive partner, I was fortunate to have someone to reach out to, to talk things over, to get my bearings. Things turn out fine, generally, and the panic is not helpful or necessary. Still. There was a bit of panic, and indeed, not helpful. lol Hours later, and even after a restful night’s sleep, I still feel the warmth of my partner’s love. I’m grateful to experience a love like this.

I spent the rest of the evening sorting myself out and ensuring my planning account for new circumstances and information. It ends up being a lovely quiet evening, and somehow a new start to a new year, already. Looks like it’ll be a year a new beginnings. I’m okay with that. I’m pretty familiar with beginning again. πŸ˜‰

I finish my rather crappy cup of coffee with a sheepish smile; it’s enough, and I’m okay with that. It’s time to move on to changes, and practices, and beginnings. πŸ™‚

Where does this path lead?

It’s the morning of the first day back in the office in a new year. Somehow, this particular day, each year that I’ve been a working adult, reliably feels very much more… significant (close enough) than other “first days” and new beginnings of various sorts. I’m aware it is a matter of subjective experience, my own notions, and context, nonetheless it feels “special”, in neither a specifically positive nor specifically negative way. It is one of the most obviously “this is what I make of it” days in my year, each year.

…Sometimes it is very hard to go back, and really feels like “going backward”.

…Sometimes it is easy to return to the job, and feels very promising.

Today? Today is a Thursday. πŸ™‚

My experience reflects my choices.

I took some additional self-care steps this year, and built my holiday around some skillful choices in time management, and activities. One of those was to allow myself adequate travel and recovery time, instead of rushing myself to get back and also be in the office as of the day after New Year’s Day (you know, the 2nd of January). As it happens, I was so not up to working a shift yesterday, and although the resulting 2-day work week is so short that both days will be (most likely) both a bit long and very busy, I am ready for it, today.

I got to bed relatively early last night, still pretty fatigued from the holiday excitement, and slept soundly through the night. I woke up a bit early, and got up feeling pretty good. Very little pain, and only from all the usual unavoidable bullshit. I sip my coffee contentedly, ready to greet a new day and year. Today effectively restarts the last bit of routine life post-holiday; the job.

…I take a moment to appreciate that although I was “on call” the entire holiday, no one, apparently, needed to call me. Nice. πŸ™‚

The new year will also be the starting point of a new schedule (for me) that should (ideally) allow me to improve on my self-care, by giving me a week day off into which I can schedule appointments and get some things done. Having to take time off of work for every medical appointment gets annoying fast, as well as being overly revealing of how much time I need to spend on that endeavor, which, from my perspective, is a rather personal matter that needn’t be a topic of office conversation. Aging already sucks enough. lol

I’m stalling. It’s time now…

Start where you are. Look toward the horizon you’d like to stand upon. Start walking.

It’s time to begin again.

I am awake early. Too early. It was 2:35 am when I woke. Like… totally awake, woke. As in, not going back to sleep levels of awake. Well… shit. I’m up. lol

…On the other hand? Today’s a travel day, and I can either take my leisure with the morning, or hit the highway earlier. Either works for me. No wrong answer. So… I guess that means it’s time to make coffee. πŸ˜€

My coffee is tasty – nice job there, Me – but somehow I managed to make only about 2/3 of a cup of coffee. Weird. (To be fair, my “usual” cup of coffee is a 16 oz mug – that’s about 500 ml – thus 2/3 is still a plenty decent sized cup of coffee, so, it’s not like I made any effort to do anything about it.) It got me thinking about coffee for the drive. I can’t find my travel-mug-of-choice anywhere… and if I hit the road at or before 4 am, nothing much will be open. lol It all seems dreadfully complicated… so…

…I let that shit go. It’s a non issue. Doesn’t matter enough to fuss over. πŸ˜‰

I enjoy a few moments of conversation with a not-all-that-distant friend (just far enough away that we don’t see each other, although with minimal effort we easily could). He’s eager to hang out, calls me “beautiful”. I note both the delight I feel at the compliment, and the immediate suspicion that follows it. I take a breath, and let that go, too. I give my demons a wink. “Not today, fuckers, not today”, I say to myself, and return to my coffee. I smile, content to feel warmed by the nice compliment. Then I let that go to.

Today is not a day to cling to illusions. The New Year approaches, and it’s a fantastic moment for letting things go. πŸ™‚

I sip my coffee, continue the conversation, glance at the time… damn, I was up early. It’s not yet 4:00 am. Car is loaded. I’m showered and dressed. This is all going very well, so far. πŸ˜€

The weekend ahead looks to be a busy one. Out of town. Filled with moments, friends, parties, and comings & goings. Writing will take commitment. I remind myself to bring my laptop. I remind myself it’s already in the car. lol Am I really awake enough to get such an early start?

I think about that one. Then I let that shit go. Bullshit insecurity. Bullshit doubt. My anxiety lying to me. Letting it go is a breath away.

I breathe. Sip my coffee. Finish up a flirtatious conversation. Consider the day ahead. I’m eager to see my Traveling Partner. He is eager to see me. We share a peculiarly intense love that sometimes still finds me wondering if this can actually be real. This doubt, too, I let go of. It’s not necessary to instill each moment with doubt. That’s just baggage, and at 55, I have to admit that if I indulge or cling to it, the choice is mine.

I choose to let that shit go.

Well, look at that – it’s already time to begin again. πŸ™‚

 

I am home for the day, preparing for the long holiday weekend ahead. Having a quiet cup of tea, vaping something pleasant tasting, and watching the vapor curl in wisps as the cloud breaks up as I exhale. “Vaping” is a verb now. I ponder the way language changes with the times. I wonder if things are still “on fleek” and if “fam” is still “lit”. I smile, breathe, relax; this is my time, my moment, and I am content with it just as it is, wedged between the shhh-shhh of commuter traffic at the edge of the driveway, and the chug-chug of the washing machine, down the hall. The noise doesn’t matter, this evening, and it is not disturbing this somehow-still-quiet moment.

I am thinking of “is” and of “isn’t”, and the year just finishing up, as I peer cautiously ahead to the year that is imminent. I am thinking rather carefully of “essence” and “essentials”, and hoping to stay on the path of sufficiency. Right now, at least, it is rather easy not being tempted by excess. I just don’t have the resources for that, and 2019 looks like a year that I will spend rebuilding reserves, planning with care, and being most particular to avoid wastefulness.

I catch my thoughts on a hook as they brush past a word – “essence”. Fancy. What is “essence”, really?

…I love the future. πŸ˜€

So… yeah… “the intrinsic nature or indispensable quality of something, especially something abstract, that determines its character”. Essence. Got it. I ponder the word, and the idea of it for some minutes.

What “is” my “essence”? Is that a thing that I am? Have? Is it a state of being? A verb? An experience of self? A defining characteristic identified by others? Do I choose it? Chase it? Live it? Question it?

Is “what is my essence” simply a fancier, wordier, version of the lingering question “who am I”?

How would my “essence” influence my experience of life – or of self?

Are these questions that need asking, and answering, or is this a game?

Just questions tonight, I suspect, as I close in on the New Year. It’s a season of change, and of reflection. It is a season of choices, memories, and moments.

…the new year is a blank page…

I put questions aside, and make time for gratitude. The house is comfortable, tidy, and warm. The bills are paid. I have what I need, generally; I am fortunate. I reflect on good fortune, and the temptation to feel “deserving” or that this life is entirely “earned” on my own effort. Both the notion of being “deserving” and the notion of having gotten here “on my own” are illusions, nothing more, and I turn away from the thinking errors that bring me to those ideas. I’m fortunate. I’ve had a lot of lucky breaks. I’ve had help, encouragement, support – and all of that matters. I would not be “here”, had I been less fortunate, or if I had had to make this journey entirely without friend, or aid, all alone. I’d be somewhere quite different, and, perhaps, however grateful to be in that place, I might also be an entirely different human being, with a different understanding of myself, and different dreams, walking a different path, toward a different future.

That, too, I let go, as the twilight of winter evening slowly fades to the darkness of nightfall. No reason to become attached to notions in the darkness. Grateful and inquisitive – these seem worthy of being some part of my essence. Contentment, too. I smile, and make room to appreciate the journey, and the woman I have become over time.

Tomorrow, I’ll begin again. There is further to go. πŸ™‚

Sipping my coffee and letting my thoughts drift this morning. There’s a lot of fucking drama swirling around me, and people dear to me seem mired in it. Upon a closer look, they’re often causing it, seeking it, stoking it, creating it, and wrapping themselves in it as if for warmth. Yeesh. If you don’t want drama in your life… choose something else. Just saying.

Yes, I mean that seriously. lol It’s feasible.

Yes. Yes it is entirely feasible.

No, I’m not kidding.

Let’s start somewhere obvious (to me). Let’s start with language. Defining things is a thing we do. We use “is” to take a thing, and firmly connect it to a characteristic, which will then define that thing. “This ball is blue.” Easy example. I haven’t shown you a photograph, or provided any evidence, but now, you can picture, for yourself, that “the ball E.H. has is blue” and even “see” that, in your mind.

By the way; I’ve got no ball, blue or otherwise. Whole thing is a made up example. Just saying; we do this sort of thing to ourselves, with our own “defining characteristics” – and the things we think about other people – all the fucking time. Instant drama, particularly when there’s no ball there at all.

Seriously. That shit isn’t real. Or true. It’s totally made up.

Yeah…but… what color is my imaginary ball? You know, the one I was talking about?

Oh. That ball. It’s blue. Obviously. I already said.

…You see where this could go? How easily we can be misled? By our own words?

Whatever characteristics you ascribe to yourself through “is” and “am” have real power to change how you think and talk about yourself, how you treat yourself, how you treat others, and how you behave. It changes who you see yourself to be. When you ascribe characteristics to others, through “is”, you create a clear picture of them inΒ  your mind, of who they “are”, and in so doing, you change who you see them to be – without any actual connection to their actual self. Who you think they are will change how you treat them, but it does not change who they in fact are. lol

I’m just saying, be careful with your words. Be careful with defining things – or yourself. You can really lock yourself into a set of behaviors or characteristics that may not be the person you most want to be.

Do you see where this is leading? Toward the suggestion that you use great care and precision when defining yourself? A suggestion to maybe not define yourself so specifically at all? A suggestion that there is value in disconnecting your sense of self from your historical actions, to lift yourself out of less than ideally desirable patterns of behavior, and allow yourself freedom to move on from all that? Yes. That’s where this is going. Do that. πŸ™‚

You’ll still be accountable (and responsible) for your actions. This is not about that. This is, though, about moving on, and becoming well, and making positive changes. This is about perception, language, and how language influences how we treat ourselves and others.

Show yourself some kindness, for fuck’s sake. You can do better, and you surely deserve some kindness, and encouragement, from the person in the mirror. πŸ™‚

I take one last look at this blue ball, before I toss it away. It takes practice to refrain from defining ourselves by our mistakes, our worst decisions, our perceived flaws, the essence of how we are criticized in life, or the bullshit we hear (even from ourselves) every day. That ball may bounce, but trust me, it’s not real anyway. Let it go.

It’s time to begin again. πŸ™‚