Archives for category: more than a little bit of bitching

I’m sitting in my car, listening to the rain falling. It’s a chilly Winter morning. There’s serious Winter weather in the weekend forecast. I think about going to the store to “stock up”, but I find myself wondering if that’s more reflexive than necessary. We’re generally pretty well supplied with day-to-day basics. I could pick up some convenience items I guess, maybe fresh veggies and some chicken…

The pain I am in this morning is “ordinary”. It’s part of my daily experience of life, and it’s difficult to bother bitching about it sometimes. Yes, I’m in pain. Yes, I took something for it. No, that doesn’t really resolve it. I try to avoid letting pain call my shots, because at least for now that’s still an option.

My Traveling Partner is also in pain. He also does his best to manage it. I can’t know directly how much pain he is in, but I feel for him in that “fuck, I wish I could help” kind of way. I feel pretty helpless, though; aside from my concern and general helpfulness I can’t do much about his actual pain. Nor can he, for me.

Physical pain is one of the least pleasant experiences of being alive, I personally think, but it’s also pretty commonplace.

I sit with my thoughts and breathe. The rain falls. The wind blows. Occasional gusts rock the car. The trees along the trail just in front of where I am parked wave as a group in the wind. A very committed runner goes by, headlamp shining brightly and illuminating the path ahead of him. The rain continues to spatter the car.

… I’m so tired. I haven’t been sleeping well. I’d sleep in if I could, but that hasn’t been successful in a while. I feel rundown and overextended. I know I need more/better rest. I don’t actually know how to get that, presently. There’s a lot to get done and with my Traveling Partner injured, a lot of it falls to me. I remind myself I only need to do my best and that has to include taking care of myself. It’s reasonable to fall behind on some things. I make that okay with myself (again), and focus on today, now.

Sometimes life isn’t easy. It’s okay that it isn’t, and it doesn’t need to be made more difficult with a bunch of bullshit expectations of reaching beyond our abilities, time, and energy. It’s okay to slow down (unless you’re being chased by a bear or something, in which case maybe don’t slow down! πŸ˜‚) It’s important to take care of this fragile vessel. It’s even necessary.

I yawn and look at my calendar. It’s time to begin again.

I sat down with my coffee to write a few words, after a restless, interrupted night’s sleep (I woke several times, though I only got up twice, quite briefly), and a somewhat tense commute. Humans being human. I started with “No Good-Guys” as my working title, because I started my day already disappointed in humanity. Mine. Everyone else’s. Just… yeah. All kinds of annoyance with the fundamentals of people doing the things people do. I mean, ffs, even children don’t get a pass (a six year old shoots a teacher?! a 10-year old shoots a friend over a bicycle race?? what the hell?) – the world feels very messy, chaotic, and whether I view the world through the lens of the media reporting, or simply my own day-to-day experience of self and others… it’s not looking good. I’m disappointed and vexed by both the circumstances that find me feeling this way, and the feeling itself.

…Emotions are not reality, I remind myself, the map is not the world…

I breathe, exhale, relax – and sip my coffee. What can I do better, myself? Probably a fucking lot. I could do more to communicate more clearly and more gently. I could work harder/more attentively at being a good listener. Good places to start. Probably for 100% of everyone out there, it would at least be a worthy starting point.

I sigh out loud. It breaks the stillness in this quiet morning place. I haven’t lost my interest in living – that’s something, anyway. I sit with my thoughts awhile. I think mostly about love, and how irksome it is that loving well and deeply over time isn’t easier than it seems to be (at least for me, with my hearty helping of chaos and damage, and a lifetime of baggage to deal with). The work involved in being the human being I most want to be, reliably, consistently, skillfully… fucking hell, it’s a lot of work. Sisyphean just about covers it. Every step forward on this path seems followed by some irritating detour or setback, and I find myself harshly judgmental of my efforts and deeply critical of my failures. I could do better there, too.

In a moment of harsh words, my Traveling Partner asked me to “set a better example”, to “model the behavior” I’m asking for, and to “show what that looks like”… which, strangely, caught me by surprise with A) its utter reasonableness and B) how truly difficult that looked in my head when I gave it a moment of thought, later. Yeesh. Fucking human primates – we think we know what we want, but again and again we set ourselves up for failure. We’re not actually all that good at being wise, or being kind, or being consistent, or being nurturing, or being positive, or being supportive, or being open, or… I guess what I’m saying is that this is a difficult journey in spots.

…I find myself asking “am I the bad guy?”, and having to admit that at least sometimes, yeah, I totally am. Well, shit. Okay, then. I guess I’ve got to work on that…

My coffee manages to go cold between the start and end of this fairly brief bit of writing, today. It’s a reflection of how often I stopped to ponder some point at length, and how deeply I am thinking some of this over, although I don’t think I’m really “getting anywhere” – at least not yet. There are more thoughts to think, more practices to practice, more work to be done – the journey is long, and there is no map. I guess I’ve just got to begin again.

Again.

I’m frustrated, sorrowful, and filled with fury. Emotional weather. I don’t know where I’ll be standing when this storm passes, but I’m not in a good place right now.

Breathe. Exhale. Relax. Repeat.

Drink water.

Stand up and stretch. Maybe take a walk.

Breathe. More. Find that calm place.

My heart is pounding so hard it rocks my entire body, and my clenched jaw makes my headache just that much worse.

…Where does this path lead?

…What matters most?

…That woman I most want to be? What would she do, right now?

Another breath. Deep, and steady. “Forcing calm” is a bit like shaking someone and yelling at them to “be mindful!!” – not especially effective, however well intended, but I’ll get there at some point. This moment, here, now, is difficult.

Breathe. Exhale. Relax. Repeat.

…What matters most? Finding a way to hold space for empathy and compassion. Finding patience and kindness in my heart. The effort feels superhuman, and I am so tired…

…These are just emotions… I can choose my actions…

Breathe. Exhale. Relax. Repeat. Keep at it. I’ll get through this. It’s a moment, nothing more than that, whatever the outcome.

…Begin again…

I’m sipping my coffee and hoping to shake off this relatively shitty mood, soon. I woke early, ahead of my alarm, and started the day with my first interaction being with my Traveling Partner, who isn’t feeling himself (injured, still recovering), and was not in a great mood (also up quite a bit earlier than he wanted or needed to be). The commute was fine. Traffic was relatively light and the drive went by quickly and didn’t make much of an impression on my still-waking-up consciousness. I left too early to grab coffee on the way, and I’ve had to just put up with that until I got to the office. My head aches. My neck aches. My back aches. I’d frankly rather be elsewhere doing something different, right now, but… here I am. It is what it is, and what it is, is… a perfectly ordinary work day. The first of 2024.

I take another sip of my coffee. It’s okay. Not great. Not bad. Just coffee. I remind myself to appreciate that luxury properly; in the state the world is in, generally, there’s no telling when the supply of coffee will be used up, and no more available to “regular people” than mega-yachts are. Coffee is a luxury. In the present day, a mostly affordable luxury (depending on where you buy your beans, I guess). That may not always be the case. A lot of things work out that way. Enjoy the things you enjoy while you have them. Circumstances change.

Over the weekend, I managed to jam a tiny thin piece of PLA filament under my fingernail (left index finger, if that matters), and although I was fortunate not to break it off, I definitely jammed it right into the delicate nailbed and it hurts. Small thing, hardly worth bitching about, but every time my finger strikes a key on the keyboard, I am reminded of it.

…So… Here it is a new year, a new week, a new day… and I’m cross and fussy like a fucking toddler on the edge of a tantrum. I don’t mean to be. I don’t even have any excuse for this bullshit besides being irritable after waking too early and being on the receiving end of my partner’s own crossness. Another sip of coffee… I remind myself I don’t have to let this be the theme of the entire fucking day. I’ve got choices. It’s sometimes quite difficult to choose away from an emotional experience or a state of being, but… it can be done. Doesn’t generally work (for me) to try to suppress it, “wish it away”, or “fake it ’til I make it”, though. “The way out is through” applies here. So, a positive distraction, an opportunity to focus on something else, a healthier more recent interaction with my Traveling Partner… those are the steps on this path. I sip my coffee, take my medication, and take a couple of deep cleansing breaths. I stand and stretch, looking out at the city stretching beyond these windows and “give myself a moment”.

I take my coffee cup and walk from window to window, looking out at the city from different points of view, drinking my coffee and letting my thoughts wander where they will before returning to my desk to write. A glance at the time brings me back to the routine in front of me. It’s already time to begin again. πŸ™‚

I’m already on my second coffee, and will likely have a third. Maybe a fourth. I’m so tired… There’s not enough coffee to resolve this amount of fatigue.

My Traveling Partner woke me during the wee hours. He couldn’t sleep. It was not quite 3 a.m. He was supremely frustrated with being unable to sleep, and trying anything to figure out why he wasn’t sleeping. His injury was making him uncomfortable, too, and he was clearly vexed and feeling that the lack of restful sleep would slow his recovery. Sleep isn’t easy for everyone, and it can be a tough puzzle to “figure out”. I know this first hand, and even in this very moment. Since having been awakened, I wasn’t going to find sleep easily again myself (if at all).

Hoping to minimize any further possible disruptions to my Traveling Partner’s potential to go back to sleep, I went ahead and dressed and went on in to the office. Options. (Flexible hours for the win!) Fuck, I’m so tired, though. I tried unsuccessfully to nap on a couch in the break area… strange space, uncomfortable couch, no CPAP machine, the lights and noise of the city… it wasn’t happening. So. Work, then? Work. And coffee.

…Great commute into the city, though… no traffic at all. LOL

Getting my ass up, dressed, and out of the house when my partner can’t sleep is, as he points out himself, “just a band-aid”, not really a solution. What the hell is the solution to poor quality sleep? The real answer? I don’t know; I still suffer from poor quality sleep on a regular basis – I just don’t happen to deal with snoring as the cause of that experience, nor worry that my snoring is keeping my partner awake, since I started on a CPAP machine. I’m still light and noise sensitive. I still struggle with nightmares. I still sometimes find myself wakeful during the night for no obvious reason. I still need more sleep than I find myself able to get. The only piece of the puzzle I’ve ever truly solved was eliminating my anxiety, frustration, and anger over being unable to sleep. I used to respond to lost sleep with tears and fury. Tossing and turning. Punching pillows. Restlessly banging about my living space frustratedly trying to coax myself into returning to sleep by creating more fatigue, somehow. Enacting peculiar “bed time” rituals like getting a drink of water, then going back to bed. Sometimes something worked, mostly nothing did (or does; if I’m not going to sleep, I’m not going to sleep). The stress over it made it much worse. That I was able to ease, and pretty much resolve completely. Now, when I’m wakeful, I just… am awake. I meditate. Read quietly. Maybe write. Get up and have a quiet cup of chamomile tea, perhaps. It just “doesn’t bother me” the way it used to. This was a choice built on practices, built on acceptance, and built on non-attachment. That much I managed, and it has worked nicely.

…But I don’t think that counts as a solution to poor quality sleep…

…And I really really wish I could truly help my partner resolve his sleep challenges, especially if I am any cause of those! Whether I am or not… I’d just like him to be able to get the sleep he needs to feel well and rested every day!

There are a ton of commonplace recommendations regarding sleep hygiene from any number of foundations, YouTube channels, Dr recommendations, sleep clinics, sleep-oriented businesses, and bloggers… some of them likely work for some people. All of them probably work for someone. (Chances are none of them work for everyone.) I practice many of them routinely and they have become habit for me. It helped. Stressing over the lack of sleep never helped at all, and I suspect did much to make things worse. Learning not to do that was a big deal, and it was my Traveling Partner who pushed me to do so, wisely pointing out that the stress about not sleeping was causing me to lose more sleep.

I don’t have any solutions – but I know how much sleep matters, and I know a lot of us struggle to get the sleep we need. Are you having sleep difficulties? What have you done about it? I’d be interested to know what has worked for you.

Coffee #2 is finished, and just a memory. It’s time to make a third and try to push through the fatigue on caffeine and pure persistence. It’s time to begin again.