Archives for category: Love

I slept late this morning. No walk. I was up during the night, unwell (I’ll spare you the gross human details). Still, I’m awake now, and feeling pretty merry, in spite of being so recently awake that I’m still rubbing my eyes and sorting myself out. My coffee is still too hot to drink.

Banana bread in spite of pain.

Yesterday was a difficult day. I was just in so much pain doing basic things to help care for my Traveling Partner while he recovers from being injured was at the edge of what I could do at all. I rarely “feel my years” – but yesterday I felt ancient and worn. I managed to do laundry, though (and got his folded and put away where he could more easily get it, and he just couldn’t have done that for himself), and I did dishes (seems like there are always dishes to do in a household where anyone cooks). I even baked a very delicious banana bread. It was a well-spent day in my partner’s good company, generally speaking, though I was in enough pain to need to take frequent breaks from literally everything, including his company, in order to give my back or my neck a rest of the effort of … being upright. For fucks’ sake, how is that okay?? Fuck pain.

Enjoying a chill holiday is okay too.

Today is Giftmas Eve. Sure, I’m in some pain this morning, but it’s not like yesterday. Yes, I was up for an hour during the night being quite ill, but I feel like I’m over it now – and I slept quite late, and woke feeling rested. It’s nice. I may make a quick trip to the grocery store for some things I am missing from the pantry, before the day gets too far along, but the plan is to just enjoy the holiday at home with my Traveling Partner. Videos. Working on my model. Sharing each other’s good company. Dinner later, also here at home. Nothing super fancy this year, maybe stir fry, or Salisbury steak. I’m enjoying the relaxed approach to the holiday.

For now, coffee & meditation. Later, I’ll work on my Tachikoma model, and maybe bake something? Bread? I don’t know… I feel inspired to make something to share with my Traveling Partner, somehow. I could fold and put away my own damned laundry… that doesn’t sound like much fun, but I’ll be pleased to see the task completed, I know. This year I just want to enjoy my partner’s company, and share a few moments of merriment and maybe a hot-buttered rum, in the evening. All of that later… first, some quiet coffee-sipping, and thought-thinking. 😀

…Later, I’ll begin again.

Happy holiday, if you’re celebrating the change of the season. The shortest day. The longest night. The arrival of Winter. This is a season of change. A season… of sorrow. I wish you well. Truly, I wish all the world well. I hope for peace.

Dawn of the shortest day, gray, chilly, and misty.

I got a walk in, down damp trails in chilly weather, feeling the chill in my bones as I walked through the mist along the marsh. Winter is here.

When I was young, and living in a very different location, I was often puzzled by the Solstice being “in the middle of” Winter, instead of at the start. It reliably felt like “mid-Winter” to me, in much the same way that the Summer Solstice felt like “mid-Summer”. Here, the climate (these days) feels more aligned to the equinoxes and solstices; each starting the change of season. The hottest days of Summer are long after the Solstice. The coldest days of Winter follow the Solstice. The Vernal Equinox is “too soon” for Spring camping. The Autumnal Equinox finds the forests still cloaked in green, with the colors of Autumn weeks away. I don’t know why that matters, perhaps it doesn’t. I’m just thinking about it.

Today I’ll mark the day with a favorite ritual; I’ll plant the seeds of the future, metaphorically and literally. I’ve some carefully selected rosehips that I’ll put into the earth along the back of the property. Maybe some will take hold? That’s the idea. I’ve got some other seeds chosen, things that would not suffer for being in the ground through the cold winter weeks ahead, and may spring to life in the earliest days of Spring, bringing the promise of new life. Hope. Growth. Change. I do this every year. It’s just a thing I do. I think back to walking country roads with my Granny, or pathways in gardens, plucking choice rosehips together, to plant here or there some other time. I do miss her greatly. I remember her teaching me all the herbs in her garden, one by one. “Crush this in your hands, Sweetie, doesn’t that smell good? How does it make you feel?” She would tell me their names, and what they might be used for. Cooking herbs. Tea herbs. Medicinal herbs. Where they came from. How to care for them.

I listen to a piece of music that “feels right” today for some reason. I try not to overthink it. It’s just been sticking with me. It seems a clear reminder not to waste the limited time we’ve got. I promise you, it is limited.

My Traveling Partner seems to be on the mend. I continue to do my best to “pick up the slack” around the house. It’s a less than perfect effort: there are a handful of dishes in the sink, and I still have not unpacked since I returned from the coast (two weeks ago??). Maybe I’ll get to that, too. Today is just one day, but much can be accomplished in a day – even the very shortest one.

This morning I woke from the kind of rest I generally only daydream of enjoying. I dreamt, sure, wholesome playful surreal dreams with no hint of terror or anxiety. I slept deeply – my sleep tracker even agrees with me. I woke early, yes, but… I woke in a natural way, feeling rested, undisturbed, just finished with sleeping. I even woke feeling alert and “sorted out”, as if indeed my sleep were truly restful, restorative, and refreshing. Nice change of pace after several days of waking groggy and confused from restless anxious dreams and interrupted sleep that seemed wholly inadequate and left me feeling prone to tears or stupid and dull-witted.

I dressed for the day without much thought, gathered up my things, handled what seemed an effortless commute into the city. Made coffee when I arrived at the office, and started my day. Comfortable. Rested. Calm. Content. Even… merry. For real, unforced, gentle background merriment, as if all is well in the world. Realistically, I know its only this tiny slice of the world, this one limited moment, and as with all things, at some point this too will pass. I’m okay with it; I’ve got this here, now. It’s enough.

I feel the soft smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. This is a good beginning to the day. I drink it in, as I drink my coffee, which, rather like the moment, manages to be quite ordinary in all regards, while also quite pleasant. This? Right here? This is the “state of being” I strive for day-to-day: calm, contented, relaxed, easy in my mind, and “merry”. I “feel great” for most values of “feeling”. Yes, I am still having to deal with physical pain – that’s why it’s called “chronic pain”, and there’s not much to do about that besides take care of myself, manage my pain as best I can, and do what I can to limit the control it has over my quality of life, generally. It’s for sure helpful to avoid taking it personally – it isn’t personal. It’s just pain. It sucks, yes, and sometimes it’s hard to pay attention to anything else. That’s just real. It’s also not “everything”. So, this morning, I notice my arthritis pain. My neck pain. My headache. I stand up, have a good stretch and double-check the ergonomics of my workstation. Then I move on with the morning.

I think about my Traveling Partner, sleeping at home, and hopefully continuing to recover from his recent injury. Being injured stresses him out. Him being stressed out stresses me out and drives quite a bit of background anxiety for me; I worry. Certainly it’s a sign of how deeply connected we really are. Nonetheless, it’s the sort of emotional feedback loop that can create a lot of chaos and emotional volatility for both of us. Last evening was pleasant and relaxed, and getting some really good sleep last night finds me feeling stable and resilient. I hope he wakes similarly refreshed, and feeling a sense of healing and progress, in spite of his frustration with being injured. I think over the evening we shared, with a smile in my heart. It reminds me that I’d said I’d go to the store on my way back from the office today – I set a reminder, and make a list.

I breathe. Exhale. Relax. Pull myself upright and feel my back crack in a couple places, which eases some small amount of my discomfort, but also serves to make me more aware of the places where I hurt most, now. lol Funny how that works. I guess it makes sense; what we put our attention on is what dominates our awareness. Pretty obvious when I think about it.

The clock ticks. The day begins. It’s time to begin again.

I’m sitting in my car, waiting for the sunrise to illuminate the trail, preferring not to walk it in the dark. I slept poorly, completely pwnd by my nightmares. My head aches ferociously and I feel as if I am stressed to a breaking point in spite of so recently having a few days away. I find myself on the edge of tears over and over again, and awash in vague feelings of frustration. It’s shitty.

I breathe. Exhale. Regain a sense of calm. Then I lose it again. The experience is very much as if I am completely “disregulated” for some reason. My thoughts come back to this fucking headache. Going on 9 years, in January. No relief. No diagnosis that feels trustworthy or useful. I’m still here, though, that’s something. For now it has to be enough.

The beginning of a sunrise.

My Traveling Partner pings me a greeting. He’s up early. His injured condition is vexing and worrisome for both of us. Worse for him, obviously, living with it. The visit to the ER earlier this week seemed somewhat reassuring but the feeling hasn’t lasted and he’s struggling more than seems reasonable. No doubt this is weighing more heavily on my heart and mind than I was prepared for.

The sun begins to rise and the horizon is on fire with intense reds and oranges, and a hint of pink. It’s gorgeous. I sit watching it evolve over some minutes, half an eye on the trailhead. Soon the path will be light enough to walk quite safely.

I try to let the sunrise be enough. The tears start falling. I let them. I don’t really know what else to do with tears. Right now is hard. Sometimes that’s how things are. The world seems like a pretty terrible heartless place right now, which adds to the feeling of senselessness, futility, and frustration. Subjectively, I feel very alone and ineffective, powerless to prevent this mortal vessel from breaking down, powerless to help my partner, powerless to help my dearest friend. Powerless to change the world. Mortality comes for us all, and these fucking meat suits are more fragile than they seemed in younger years. Fuck.

I cry awhile, sitting here alone, watching the sun rise. Sometimes a sunrise is all we get. Sometimes it has to be enough. I sigh and wipe the tears off my face before I get out of the car to walk this favorite trail. It’s time to begin again.

This morning I took a walk in the cold of the frosty morning, just as daybreak arrived. No pictures. Just walking with my thoughts, and taking care that I didn’t slip on an icy surface along the way. Now I’m home, sipping coffee, sitting here with my thoughts. Same thoughts? Same thoughts. I am thinking about good and evil, right and wrong, and the excuses we make. I’m thinking about the inexcusable horror of war and how terrible and pointless it is. I’m thinking about inspiration, and things I’ve seen that I’d like to put on canvas. I keep the sound turned down low on the playlist I’m listening to, in case my Traveling Partner calls out from the other room to get my help with anything, while he recovers from an injury.

…There’s a bit of grocery shopping to plan, an errand to run, and I’m overdue to finally unpack from my trip to the coast (which now seems so long ago). There are dishes to do. Meals to plan. Laundry to wash, fold, and put away. Life. Adulthood. Taking care of things that take care of me. Sometimes it seems pretty fucking endless, ridiculously repetitive and without any lasting outcome of value. Processes and practices work that way, I suppose. I take a breath, feeling my fingers dance across the keyboard as my thoughts flow across my awareness and on past. I exhale, still finding contentment in these simple things. It’s enough, generally…

I saw a gorgeous sunrise while I was on the coast, and it’s the sort of sight that fills my thoughts for days and lingers in my recollections. Such sunrises are the stuff of inspiration, for me. Sunrises are a little on the nose as metaphors for new beginnings, but there it is; simple and true. Believable. Real.

Begin again.

I breathe, exhale, relax, and look over the many pictures I took on my recent coastal getaway. I spent most of that time working, and so most of the pictures are of the view from the balcony or windows of the hotel room where I stayed for 4 days, with a handful taken on this or that walk on the beach on a lunch break, or some opportune moment when the tide was low. It was time well-spent. I reflect on the time, now, hoping to prevent the nurturing emotional gains of rest, resilience, and introspection from slipping away in the chaos of returning home to an injured partner, and the busy whirlwind of pre-holiday life, generally. Breathe in. Breathe out. Look at the next picture. Repeat.

My Traveling Partner asks about breakfast sandwiches and whether I might make some…? It’s time to begin again.