Archives for category: more than a little bit of bitching
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Taking Time for the Time It Takes

September 30, 2023 //
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I’m tentatively sipping this fresh (quite hot) cup of coffee and endeavoring to avoid burning my mouth, while savoring the goodness of a still-hot cup of coffee on a Saturday morning. I’m still working on (with the help of my Traveling Partner) bringing my new laptop properly to life as the machine I understand so well (and which seems to understand me).

One careless misstep resulted in having to fight off the cancer that is OneDrive (omg, spare me, ffs) – I rather stupidly let that thing begin syncing my files, unaware that it was set to do so (no doubt through some earlier carelessness or lack of understanding)… wouldn’t have been such an issue if I were not also a user of DropBox for backing up my files, and had allowed that to have sync turned on and permitted to run in the background “for convenience” (omg, no no no no!!!)… the result? A crazy loop of OneDrive and DropBox seeking to back (each other) up continuously… and we’re talking about many tens of thousands of high resolution photographs, and multitudes of gigabytes of documents preserved over many decades (that through my own insecurity about “losing my memories”, had become multiple copies of copies of copied folders – in some cases also including .zip versions of those very same nested multiplicative folders and files). It was a fucking nightmare. In point of fact, an actual literal nightmare, because I dreamt through the night last night of having lost just the one and only precious file that actually mattered, because I did not realize it was stored as a single copy on fucking OneDrive – and had deleted all that content out of frustration without checking for that file. Omg. For real though?

Fuuuuuuuuuck. Okay. So. Frustrated raised voices and a few tears later, followed by careful slow conversation on the level one would have with a fairly stupid child (thanks, though, Love, I get it now)… and I think we’ve got this shit sorted out… only…

…new laptop. There may be a hardware issue; the monitor was flickering (unacceptable). I think my Traveling Partner resolved that with skilled troubleshooting in the display settings. G’damn I appreciate the depth of his expertise on this crap – I have not kept up my technical knowledge, as so often happens with “use it or lose it” sorts of things, and I’m clearly very far behind the state-of-the-art OS-wise! I could have seriously borked my new laptop if I had proceeded to simply delete a bunch of (to me) suspicious looking OS files. LOL (“Okay, Boomer…”)

Breathe through it; it’ll be okay.

Yeah. She’s here. She “lives and breathes” – as much as she can as a machine. I know, I know; she’s not actually conscious, sentient, or a living being. I just rely on this tool to the point that “she” feels personal and real to me on a level beyond machinery… like a motorhead with a favorite car. I’m okay with that.

(Note: AI is not yet a thing, y’all, just stop. We’ve got some fancy machine learning tools, but those tools are not “AI”; they do not think and can not reason or understand the material they ingest or the content they spit out. Not yet, so just fucking stop sucking down the marketing hype.)

So… definitely needed this 2nd coffee, and I’m trying to enjoy it before it goes cold. 😀

…Because it’s already time to begin again, and I’ve got shit to do in both the real and virtual worlds. Life is short, and time passes all too quickly. 😀

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, art and the artist, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Relationships, The Art of Being

Then The Rain Came

September 23, 2023 //
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When the rain began to fall, so close to the forecasted time it may as well have been a plan, rather than a weather forecast, I was long gone. Already home. Already showered. Already astonished to feel the bone-deep fatigue that had set in once I got home. My Traveling Partner seems glad to see me. We both get something out of these opportunities to miss each other.

Site 146, C Loop

I had originally planned to be camping Wednesday through Sunday, home on Sunday afternoon. Instead, I got started a day later (bills to pay, frankly, and needed the work hours), and then called it “done” a day early, when the weather forecast became pretty insistent on the chance of rain going from “possible” to “probable” to “count on it”. I am decently well-equipped, even for camping in the rain, but… I didn’t bring the extra overhead cover I’d need to make cooking outdoors comfortable in a downpour, and didn’t look forward to breaking down my camp in a rainstorm, either. I woke this morning having already coordinated with my Traveling Partner, who seemed more eager to see me than inconvenienced by my early return. The sky threatened rain before day break, but the forecast stayed true; no rain fell. I had coffee and a bite of breakfast, tidied up, and got started packing up.

Looking like rain.

I got in some good walks. Got some good pictures. Got some solo time thinking my own thoughts and being master of my time, my intentions, and my effort from the moment I woke each day until sleep took me down each night. I meditated. I watched the fire grow cold on a chilly evening alone with the woman in the mirror. I picked up my sketchbook to sketch or paint, and put it down without doing anything with it at all. I picked up a book to read, and put that down, too. Turns out, this trip was me, with my thoughts, and little more than that. I cooked. I tended the fire. I listened to my inner voice, and reflected on my experience.

…It was an amazing time to spend with myself…

“hearing myself think”

I don’t want to mischaracterize my camping trip; I was in a colossal managed state park that has some 400+ individual sites, arranged in loops A through H. This place is huge – and popular. Jessie M. Honeyman Memorial State Park is on the Oregon Dunes. It’s an amazing place, with several activities available, including ATVs on the dunes, kayaking or paddle boating on either of two lakes, fishing, swimming, hiking, biking, or joining the merry oldsters in the Welcome Center to work on the latest jigsaw puzzle. Popular + activities = crowded. I wasn’t surprised that most of the sites seemed full, even on a Thursday. This fucking place looks like an outdoor gear convention. It was hard to “be alone” surrounded by people – I got most of what I needed fireside in the evening, or out on the trail during the day. It’s a friendly place. And noisy. So noisy. I can’t even go hard enough on this point; it’s fucking noisy. ATV’s. Packs of shrieking kids. Wailing babies. Adults who should know better yelling to each other across multiple sites worth of distance. Loud trucks and loud talkers. It’s fucking noisy. It’s not a great choice for camping if quiet is what you’re looking for, is what I’m saying. I was regularly approached in camp by strangers asking questions about my solar panels, or the fridge, or some other piece of gear or something else that caught their eye. Like I said; a friendly place.

…I’m not really “approachably friendly” with strangers, though, so this tested my ability to be polite and gracious, which are skills worth cultivating…

I’m glad to be home. I slept poorly. There were too many “feral children” running about loose without supervision in small packs of “new best friends”. There were too many dogs on leashes (and a few that weren’t, which was worse) and many of them barked. Like, a lot. People camping in family groups taking several sites were common… and loud. Very loud. “Rambunctious” seems like a good word for it. In spite of all of that, I had a good time, and got a lot of what I needed out of the time spent more or less alone. Worth it.

…The drive was lovely, both directions, and felt very much as if I were the only car on the road at all. It was quite wonderful.

Anyway. I’m home. There’s more to say about it, more to process. Pictures to look over. Anecdotes to share when the context and timing are right. I sit here listening to the rain fall (on a video, as rain falls outside), happy to be home. Happy to be.

A frown crosses my thoughts briefly…some bad news shared by a friend taking the form of a facial expression as I recall it. I breathe, exhale, and let that go for the moment. I’ll come back to it, later.

It’s a metaphor.

I sit here with my feet up, feeling grateful, contented, and loved. It’s enough. More than enough. It’s a firm foundation for all the many new beginnings to come. 🙂

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Categories Allegories, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, turning 60

Sometimes It Feels Too Hard

September 18, 2023 //
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Sometimes I still feel like I’m fighting uphill. Arguing with shadows. Spinning my wheels. Sometimes shit just feels too hard. Even (especially?) the stuff I think “should be” easy.

Fuck I am frustrated and tired. My head hurts. I just wanted…

… doesn’t matter, it didn’t go down like that. There’ll be other times, other moments, other chances. I just wasn’t expecting things to be so damned difficult in this particular instance.

I know, I know, there are practices to practice and I can begin again. Fighting back pointless stupid tears.

… Sometimes I just miss things that were once so easy…

Stay on the path. Your results will vary.

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Categories Allegories, anhedonia, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, Hormone Hell, Love, Menopause, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, 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

No Pill, No Perfect

August 3, 2023 //
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Morning. A Thursday. Busy day, based on my calendar details. Hot coffee, black. Peach and orange sunrise streaked with messy clouds. I am groggy.

I woke to lights coming on, right on time. This has been my “alarm clock” for so long now, I actually do think of it as “my alarm”. I hauled myself upright, reluctantly. My sleep is improved now that I’m using a CPAP machine, I’ll go ahead and say that first. So… snoring? Get to a sleep doctor and take care of yourself. That snoring is a bigger deal than just keeping other people awake. 😉 The machine prevents me snoring, but according to my sleep tracker, it’s not doing much good for my quality of sleep, which is still restless, and lacks sufficient deep sleep. I’m getting more sleep – which is a start – but I’m probably still just getting used to sleeping in the mask, and also dealing with the noise of the machine (quiet but distinctive) and the sound of my breathing (different). My dreams are vivid, plentiful, and quickly forgotten. I’m definitely actually sleeping, but not sinking into that cherished deep sleep, and today I’m really feeling that.

…So groggy…

I showered, kissed my Traveling Partner good-morning-and-see-you-later and headed to work.

I’m sipping my coffee, grateful for this hot cup of “we’ll get past this moment and on to the next” that warms my hands and lifts my mood. An early morning walk around the block (required to obtain said coffee) was pleasant, and I enjoyed the sunrise. I’m thinking about life and things I’m happy turned out “badly”… only months ago, I was hoping to get onto Ozembic… already the news that has since surfaced has me feeling quite grateful I didn’t. One major notable significant “don’t miss this detail” truth of our human experience is that there is no “magic pill” or perfect outcome. The shortcuts are rarely actually shortcuts, and often come at an unreasonably high cost. No “happily ever after” – it’s work and effort and results that vary.

I sip my coffee thinking about incremental change over time. So… okay. This mask may not be the ideal CPAP mask for me. Could be. Maybe I could adjust it differently and be more comfortable? Maybe I need to be patient about getting used to it? Maybe some progress and improvement is enough? Hell, this isn’t even my machine… it’s a rental-on-loan while the paperwork and process of getting my own continues to unfold (apparently my apnea is bad enough that no one wanted me to go another night without a machine, due to some actual risk to my health & safety without it, potentially).

So here I am. Another day. Another moment. Another change. Another experience. One foot in front of the other, doing my best day-to-day and hoping that changes in behavior, thinking, and circumstances will add up to improvements over time that I can really enjoy and thrive on. In the meantime, enough has to be enough, and it’s okay to embrace “successful failures” every bit as much as it is to celebrate the joyful moments of delight and success that are more obvious.

…I am already missing my Traveling Partner this morning. Our evening last night was an interesting departure from our usual. Shortly after dinner, completely unexpectedly, we ended up sharing some time with his son (who lives far away, but is visiting later this month). Technology is amazing. Hanging out and talking as a family as if we were all in the same room. “Fun” doesn’t quite describe it; it was “real”, and authentic, and funny at times, and serious other times. At a later point another person joined the conversation (a stranger to me), and the vibe wasn’t the same. Not family. Too much drama. I quickly got bored, and called it a night in favor of quiet time and reading a book. From there my night was the restless unsettled experience I described earlier. I’m not feeling critical or discontented about it; it was an interesting evening of good conversation, generally. I’m okay with that. As for the sleep thing? Well, shit, there’s always been “a sleep thing” for me. Nothing to see there.

…So groggy…

…I’m glad coffee exists…

Right now I’m feeling moody and vexed by existence. Irked by humankind. “Over it” – without knowing what “it” even means to be. I know it’ll pass, at some point.

…I guess I’ve got to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, anhedonia, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, health, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, Summer, The Art of Being, turning 60
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