Archives for category: Metaphors
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Complimentary PITA

September 11, 2019 //
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Same routine, different location – at least for this morning bit – and I’m okay with that. 🙂 My coffee is still too hot to even sip on, and made in a peculiar molded plastic drip contraption of some utterly ordinary sort. I don’t expect much of it, and I’m considering walking down the corridor to the ice machine to cool it down more quickly, just because ice is readily available…and I really want a cup of coffee, without having to see any people, yet. lol

Air travel has some uncomfortable moments for me. It wasn’t the seating on the aircraft that was the problem. It wasn’t the line to go through security. It was just… all the people. By far too many. All talking. Many grousing about absolute bullshit (much as I am right now, but a lot less of me, and a whole lot more of them. lol) I’m just saying; it was a bit much. The roughest bit was the high-pitched, fast-paced, near-continuous, over-sharing, stream of consciousness from a very insecure-seeming young woman who latched onto anyone near her and just… downloaded. Total brain dump. Unfortunately, seated just behind me on the aircraft, after having to deal with the noise and overshare in the seating area at the gate as well. Loathsome creature. Oh, sure, just one of many human beings, and ordinary enough, I’m sure. Just… fuuuuuuuuck. I did not really need that.

Seated on the plane, I expected things would quiet down. The talking woman never stopped. There was that. A man in a seat ahead of me decided to occupy his time with  video game. A combat first-person shooter. The entire flight. With the volume up, no head phones. (Seriously??) O…M…G… “Complimentary PITA” (pains in the ass) served generously.

…Earplugs for the win.

Getting to the hotel looked like the easy part. I had set my expectations too high, and further, made assumptions that were incorrect. I was nearly in tears by the time I located my ride-share driver (and I assure you, I had to find him, not the other way round), exhausted, cranky from traveling without being medicated (hard to find a smoking area, especially once I was cleared through security, and I was traveling without any cannabis on me), blood sugar low, ankle screaming at me to get off my feet… I was so relieved just to finally be in a car and headed to the hotel, I almost didn’t take a moment to appreciate that in spite of all the stressors, I never snarled at anyone, never actually wept, never broke down. 😀 I sat back in the seat, took a breath, and looked around…

…So this is Los Angeles, huh? It’s very… busy.

The hotel room is a hotel room. Clean. This one is even quiet. I even (mostly) slept through the night… sort of. Weird ambient light from smoke detectors and whatnot coming from different locations and angles relative to my sleeping self resulted in some restlessness. The bed is comfortable, the linens clean, but it feels unfamiliar, and sleep was difficult in spite of my fatigue. The nearest smoking area, where I can vape, is a long corridor away from the elevator, 3 floors down, and about half a city block walk from the front entrance of the hotel. lol I’ll get some exercise, just getting a quick vape. LOL I’m settled in for a couple days, though… and I’m reasonably comfortable. It’s enough.

I crashed early… then couldn’t sleep. I read awhile, until sleep caught up with me, and the alarm went off too soon. Suddenly, it’s time to begin again, there’s a day ahead of me, I’m surrounded by the vastness of busy-ness that Los Angeles… and… I guess all that’s quite okay. 🙂 All my temptingly ambitious plans about time between working hours have dissipated like dreams – I’ll be content to stay on top of my self-care, and enjoy my work gently. I hope to return home in good spirits, feeling well-cared-for and accomplished. Nothing fancy, nothing broken. 🙂

…I have yet to see the dawn. 🙂 It’s definitely time to begin again. 😀

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Categories Anxiety, Brain Injury, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5

Good Mornings and Good-Bye’s

September 10, 2019 //
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It was a fairly ordinary morning…other than the luggage. I kissed my sleeping Traveling Partner good-bye before I left the house, feeling rather peculiarly, and unexpectedly, reluctant to go. Nah, I’m not worried about the trip; it’s routine. Just work stuff. Things to do that are easier there than here.

…I got all the way to the office before I noticed I forgot to bring my lunch, a generous slice of a hearty, delicious homemade frittata I had made for dinner last night. I was looking forward to it, too; better the second day, it was just that kind of goodness. 😀 I laugh at myself and wonder what else I will forget? Hopefully not my laptop. LOL

It’s all work from this point out, until I return home late on Friday evening. I mean… I’m traveling for work. The hotel is just a place to sleep, really, and I’ve certainly got enough to do to fill all three days. lol I brought a book, of course. In fact, I brought a hard bound book, and my Kindle. I brought a bound journal for personal writing and self-reflection. I brought a notebook for work notes. I remembered chargers for devices, batteries for my vape, and a power brick. I remembered e-juice for vaping. I remembered socks, toothpaste, hair ties, and medication. So far, so good. I’ve got digital boarding passes, and my hotel reservation is saved to my phone. I feel… prepared. In fact, I feel prepared to the point that I’d probably be fine if I were stranded in any urban wilderness… less well prepared were I to suddenly drop into a proper wilderness-wilderness… you know, out in the wilderness. LOL Yeah… I left all the camping gear behind. 🙂

The tender, somewhat awkward, moment of conversation last night about “what if?” alerted me I am not all that well-prepared for certain other very adult circumstances. I need to update my will. I haven’t clearly and simply documented where things are, and what to do, in the event of my unexpected death…and… I gotta say, that strikes me now as fairly stupid of me. I’m 56. People die at 56 all the fucking time. I’d rather not leave behind someone dear to me to grieve while also desperately trying to figure out who to call about insurance, or where my will is located, or what utilities need to be changed over from my name to another, or… you know. Lots of details that I handle without a second thought these days, pleased to be so skillfully able to care for the day-to-day basics, reliably. It would be a dick move to fail to support my partnership with loving care and meticulous detail – since I know in advance that I’m mortal. So. There’s that to think about. 0_o

The day ahead seems… long. The plane ride will be a short one. Then… the strange solitude of a hotel room. Time for meditation, and a chance to get oriented in a new place. I don’t know what to expect… I’ll be close to the airport. Close to the beach. Close to the office. The map shows a crowded city, filled with human lives and human experiences, crowded with people, with buildings, with circumstances. I’m not interested in much of any of that. I’ll enjoy the chance to connect with some cherished colleagues with whom I am friendly; we don’t see each other “irl” very often. I’ll get some work done for which I have considerable enthusiasm – and that’s really the point of going.

…I already miss my Traveling Partner, and I haven’t even left town yet. LOL I know when he wakes, he’ll miss me, too. The days will creep or fly by – either way, the time will pass, and I’ll be happy to return home. Properly home. This shared place of ours that feels so good. Our partnership – and affection for each other – continues to deepen over time. Thinking about his smile, his rude jokes, his fun, and the warmth of his arms around me, I feel wrapped in love – and very fortunate.

My eye travels over my desk… what else am I forgetting… anything…? It’s time to begin again…

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Categories Brain Injury, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5, Uncategorized

Reading Proust

September 7, 2019 //
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I’m sipping my coffee and trying to recall where I left off, last time I picked up Proust. I’ve never finished “In Search of Lost Time” (also published as “Remembrance of Things Past”). I’ve made progress. Started it a number of times. Enjoyed the bit of it that I’ve read; it lingers in my consciousness. This morning, though, I don’t recall where I’ve left off, and find myself contemplating starting it entirely over. 🙂

It’s a gray Saturday morning, a bit muggy. We had thunder and lightening on the horizon yesterday, before dawn. There is rain in the forecast for later today. My hair is blue. LOL These details don’t contribute much to each other… I’ve only just awakened from a heavy uncomfortable sleep, waking with a stuffy head, and when I woke I had forgotten about getting my hair colored. My reflection in the mirror startled, then puzzled me, until I remembered an honestly unforgettable 8 fucking hours in the salon chair. omg. So much time. lol

…My hair looks great, lustrous shades of teal, cobalt, aqua, and electric blue. I’m eager to see it in the sunshine. I’m eager to see the startled wide-eyed gaze of a child who, for a moment, wonders if blue hair is “real”. 🙂 It looks “real”, with the shades and variations, and tousled from sleep.

I arrived home to so much done around the house, and garage. Wow. Oh. And a list. My Traveling Partner left me a very short “to do list” of a couple things he’d asked if I would take care of, previously, which I had managed not to get to… so… convenient reminder, right there with the mail. lol I guess my Saturday plans are covered! (Note to self; don’t say yes to something you’re not prepared to be reminded to do…or…here’s a thought; fucking do it. You said you would.)

My coffee is good. The morning is a relaxed one. Somehow, already time to begin again. 🙂

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Parables, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5

The Clock Keeps Ticking

September 6, 2019 //
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Sipping my coffee this morning, thinking about time. No particular reason, and thinking about it doesn’t have any notable effect on time, itself. Random bits of consciousness are sort of just… milling around bumping into each other this morning. I take a breathe. The AC comes on. My thoughts move along to other things.

Life’s mundanities sort of take over my awareness for a little while, as I sit with my coffee in the stillness of morning. A hair appointment (time to get the color refreshed)… A business trip (I get to do these now??? wow!)… A painting I notice I haven’t signed (not my first)… The work day ahead of me (it can wait)… The weekend that follows (just in time!)… Bills that need paying (seriously routine stuff)…  I think “nothing to see here” and sort of nudge myself along a different path. 🙂

I take a few minutes for myself, still, quiet, reflective.

Life feels good right now. I savor this moment, present, and aware. This, too, shall pass; that’s just real. I take time to properly enjoy it, content with it just as it is. 🙂 It’s enough.

…All that, and a good cup of coffee. It’s time to begin again. 😉

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5

That Bad Taste in My Mouth

September 4, 2019 //
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This morning, my coffee “leaves me with a bad taste in my mouth” in a fairly literal way. I’m not sure what I did to ruin a perfectly adequate cup of coffee this morning… good coffee beans, the usual process… Regardless; this is one dreadful cup of coffee. I sip on it anyway, reluctant to wake my Traveling Partner, asleep in the other room. It was noisy enough making just one cup of coffee. Honestly, it’s not that bad – call it “drink-ably terrible”. lol

I woke from what seemed a sound sleep, smack in the middle of dreams of reality, sufficiently plausible that I was surprised to discover myself awaking to the alarm clock. (oh, blech, this coffee!! LOL) The morning has been thoroughly routine, and soon I’ll leave the house, begin the work day, work through that, return home in commuter traffic, relax with my partner for the evening, crash out seemingly too early (it always seems “too early”), sleep more or less through the night, then repeat that for what unexpectedly seems like … a lifetime. There have been years when I’ve felt the experience to be a brutal grind, and my life filled up with petty resentments, other years (like this one) in all practical respects, it simple feels necessary, entirely practical, and if a bit tedious at times, there’s nonetheless no resentment to it. It works – for me, for us, for living life, just generally.

Yesterday I added some work tools to my personal device in preparation for my trip to “the home office”, which will be next week. A plane flight away, to “a far away city”, and I admit I face it more eagerly than not. I enjoy this job, and feel appreciated, purposeful, and prepared. My Traveling Partner doesn’t do things to hold me back or discourage me; it is a healthy partnership. I feel supported. I sip my coffee, and ask myself an important question: am I providing adequate reciprocity with regard to work, to life, and to ensuring I encourage my partner, and nurture my partnership? It would be a poor choice to nurture my career, while leaving love to whither. I’m not that woman, as I understand myself… So, I take time to consider my words, my actions, and how I prepare for this couple of days away. It matters so much to ensure Love itself is treated with consideration and high regard. What could matter more? 🙂

Staying on the path is a choice, and there are verbs involved; the journey is the destination.

My brain attacks me briefly over a perceived “funny vibe” I thought perhaps I may have picked up on, briefly, last night. It’s not a very effective attack, and I grin at myself over my coffee. Questions work. 🙂 Like a beam of light shining into a shadowy corner, a non-confrontational question seeking clarification on an assumption, a subjective experience, something vague and unconfirmed becomes… just an answered question. lol Most of the uncomfortable weirdness in life and in love are “shit we made up” that only exists in our heads – until our own anxiety and stress causes us to make it real. 🙂

I continue to sip my dreadful coffee – really let myself down on this one – and allow myself to briefly consider uncomfortable moments and “funny vibes” that have occurred in various interactions with an assortment of other human beings, and then let each one go. I breathe, exhale, and relax. No need to make up imagined stressors – real life will make sure I get a fair share of real stress, no problem. LOL

Life is not about perfection – and imperfect things are often quite lovely.

I sip my coffee thinking about sky reflected in water. No reason, it just seems something lovely to contemplate. I consider small lovely moments, and recent achievements, and brief unexpectedly deep connections, and enduring love. Love matters so much, on this whole other level. It still feels unsettling and a bit strange that it had to begin with me – with the woman in the mirror. I struggled to find real security in relationships while I struggled to “love myself”, and once I sorted that bit out reasonably well, it seemed to strengthen other relationships, most particularly my relationship with my Traveling Partner.

…Funny… I’m the one traveling in the world, this time…

…Omg, this coffee is just the fucking worst. LOL

I finish off my coffee, grateful to have it, grateful to finish it, and still thinking about how to deepen and nurture love. Love matters most. 🙂

It’s time to begin again, right here, with the love I know. 😀

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5
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