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Well This Doesn’t Feel Like Progress…

December 28, 2022 //
0

…But maybe it is?

I am sitting in the co-work space, hours before my work day needs to start. I’m alone. It is quiet. There isn’t even any cheery pop music or inexplicable disco playing on the PA system, just the steady low “shhhhhhh” of the heating, and the occasional sound of a passing car, or passing storm. My coffee? Just an ordinary cup of hot liquid pulled from the name-brand coffee-pod machine on the counter in the break area. It’s fine. Ordinary. Comforting.

Although my Traveling Partner accepted my apology yesterday afternoon for delivering an unexpected and hearty helping of my bullshit and bad temper yesterday, he is icy this morning, and our interaction as I prepared to leave was minimal, and emotionally distant. He seems pretty hurt and mad, still. That’s him working through his shit, I guess. I don’t dig into it, I just get my shit together and head out. I continue to consider him kindly and with love as I head to “the office” – I mean, what else? I love that guy. We’re both quite human. He’s got his bullshit and baggage, and I’ve got mine. Sometimes shit gets complicated. Love is love, and there’s no lack of that. We’ve each also got trauma-built behaviors that once functioned as coping mechanisms that are no longer appropriate (that the other one thoroughly dislikes) – there’s plenty of room for further growth and incremental change over time. I know when I’m feeling angry, let down, or hurt, it can be really difficult to trust that he is working on such things – I can only imagine it must be similarly difficult for him to be certain I am “working on me” under such circumstances.

…Later I’ll talk to my therapist about all of this, and much more…

Last night was the second night of unexpectedly shitty sleep. Night before last it made some sense; the storm outside was noisy. The wind and rain were an understandable cause of my interrupted restless sleep. I napped about an hour when I first went to bed that night, woke and remained awake until sometime close to 1 a.m., returned to sleep and woke to my alarm feeling groggy and out of sorts. It wasn’t a great start to the day. Last night followed a similar pattern; I crashed hard and slept for about an hour (I think) then woke abruptly (but feeling as though I’d never slept) and didn’t go back to sleep until around 1 a.m., again waking to my alarm. I am so tired. Being deeply fatigued tends to also make the subjective experience of my arthritis pain much worse. So. There’s that.

…What the hell is fucking with my sleep though?? My thinking is fuzzy, and my emotions are raw and near the surface. I sip my coffee and take a breath. I take a moment to appreciate how nice it is to “have someplace else to go” that allows me to stay on track with work and whatnot, while also getting out of my partner’s space so he can maybe get some additional rest, or work without interruption (as can I).

While I was awake last night, I reached for a book. This one; The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck. No time to read? The author summarizes it here. Apparently, it’s even been made into a movie that will hit theaters in January… could be a good way to start a new year. This is content that lands in the “self-help” space, and is largely very practical mindfulness & self-awareness focused. The language is more 21st century American than any one of several options from amazing teachers such as Thích Nhất Hạnh, Jon Kabat-Zinn, Jack Kornfield, and Rick Hanson. Many voices, a fairly basic consistent message. Choose the language and teacher that you find suits your style most, I guess (and there are others, many). I read a variety of them and value the repetition. My results still vary. lol I continue to practice the things that seem most likely to help me become the person I most want to be; we become what we practice.

My Traveling Partner pings me with a video share. “This“, he says. I pause my writing and queue it up to watch it. He often makes very useful and apropos recommendations. And also? Love and respect. I appreciate that he took the time, and I “accept his bid“.

Growth doesn’t come from what we’re good at, or what comes easily to us. One of life’s painful truths right there. Growth is often ridiculously uncomfortable and fraught with conflict or comes out of actual misadventure. “Progress” is often paired with growth – or so it seems to me, sitting here with my coffee this morning – it’s just that “progress” is on the other side of growth from wherever we started. An outcome. A result. At least, that’s what I’m thinking this morning.

I hear myself sigh aloud. My coffee is almost gone, and already cold. It’s time to begin again. Again.

Later, I went to my email and found the latest Just One Thing newsletter from Rick Hanson in my inbox. The content is (hilariously) relevant and very apropos. The topic? “See Your Part”. Timely. I figured I’d add a link to it – good content, and worthy of a moment of self-reflection.

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights

Asshole.

December 27, 2022 //
2

I am alone with my anger right now. It’s not my favorite state of being, but if I am angry, I generally very much want to be alone with that shit. “I’m sorry” doesn’t sound at all the same if I snarl it at someone. Barely matters if I mean it, at that point, you know?

“Please leave me alone.” That’s some first rate boundary setting, I guess. Simple. Practical. Actionable. To-the-point. “I don’t want to be yelled at any more today.” Also pretty clear.

I don’t know what the fuck just went wrong with my day, my mood, or my interaction with this human being I generally enjoy so well. I was barely in the door with lunch in my hands and a smile on my face when shit went sideways most spectacularly. I’m medicated very differently now, and I was for sure caught off guard when my temper flared up. I don’t have an appetite, now. What a waste. I could have stayed warm and dry and merry in the co-work space, working. Instead, I am sitting here dealing with my bullshit and wondering very much what I could have done differently and better that would still have been… me.

I’m in (physical) pain (my arthritis, this headache). It’s not an excuse, just context. Don’t know what was up with him that “this” was the outcome – I only know my end of things, really. I for sure overreacted to what felt like – subjectively, in the moment – an encroachment on my freedom of thought, or use of language, or… something. I don’t know that it even was, though. I knew I had gotten too angry too quickly for something so small as… what was it, exactly? It felt like I was being “yelled at”, and that’s a trigger for me. No “emotional runway”… what the hell?? I don’t like that I blew up over something so small, and it’s scary that it happened so quickly (doesn’t matter at all that no violence came of it, it’s still just not okay). Subjectively, my impression is that he took what I had said by way of a reply to something he said quite personally, inappropriately so. That’s a judgment on my part. An opinion. Was I right? Wrong? Neither? Is that what matters most? I don’t think that it is.

Who blew up first? Doesn’t matter as much as that we both lost our tempers. Who is right, who is wrong? Also less important than treating each other well regardless. I dislike how easily provoked I can be. That’s a thing I’d very much like to change. The keys to that kingdom are, rather annoyingly, within The Four Agreements:

  1. Be impeccable with your word
  2. Don’t take anything personally
  3. Don’t make assumptions
  4. Always do your best

Well, shit. More practice. More verbs. More failures. More beginnings. I am, if nothing else, so very human. Right at the moment, I’m feeling pretty “broken” and “flawed”. The woman in the mirror lets me down on the regular, and I’m annoyed with myself over it. It is what it is. I have these raw materials to work with, and a finite mortal lifetime to make some fucking sense out of things.

My Traveling Partner leaves the house angry, without telling me. He texts me with his own anger. I respond with an apology and ask that he be safe out there in the world. (It’s windy and rainy, and the driving conditions are pretty bad.) He returns home; it’s just not safe to be out there driving while stressed out. I know he’s home; the slamming doors are a giveaway. He leaves me alone. That’s what I’d asked for. I feel chilled to the bone; it’s a stress response. I know it’s not actually cold in here.

I breathe, exhale, and try to let shit go somehow. I’m not succeeding immediately. I keep at it. I remind myself that this will pass. My “lunch” sits next to me on the desk, silently mocking my lack of appetite.

Funny (not) thing, though; I’ve often had some difficulties with fully understanding “be impeccable with your word”… it’s clear, reading the book, that this is not solely an admonishment to tell the truth, or an emphasis on “honesty”. It’s bigger than that. It’s about using language, generally, in a way that is not hurtful, based on a couple of quotes from that chapter…

The word is a force; it is the power you have to express and communicate, to think, and thereby to create the events in your life.

Even when a situation seems so personal, even if others insult you directly, it has nothing to do with you. What they say, what they do, and the opinions they give are according to the agreements they have in their own minds.

Don Miguel Ruiz, The Four Agreements

I sit reflecting on those words. I hear power tools running out in the shop and feel worried about safety and my partner’s state of mind. I’d like to know what to say to “make him feel better”. I want him to feel similarly inclined toward making things right with each other. First steps are sometimes complicated by the assumptions that exist in my implicit thinking. Why, for example, would I doubt that he does want to make things right with each other? Why would he assume that I would want anything else, myself?

“Don’t make assumptions” is very good advice. “Don’t take anything personally” is also very good advice. There are verbs involved. My results vary.

I would do well to take a different approach toward flat assertions of causality than equally bland assertions to the contrary or equivocating language, I think. Would the conversation have proceeded in a commonplace pleasant and agreeable way if instead of sounding contrary, or feeling forced to agree with something I wasn’t certain I agreed with 100%, I had asked a clarifying question about the cause/effect connection observed? I’m not certain. This headache does not support my best thinking. 😦

I can’t honestly say I did my best on this one. My results vary. A “do over” would be awesome, but in realistic terms there’s no getting around my partner’s hurt feelings; the answer and resolution require me to consider those and address the hurt directly, with kindness and compassion, and quite likely making room to listen. Can’t say I’m looking forward to it. Being the likely “bad guy” in this scenario sucks severely.

I’m just going to have to begin again anyway.

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Categories anger, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, forgiveness, Frustration, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, War and News of War, Words

This is Hard

December 13, 2022 //
0

Sometimes the things we need to do aren’t easy. Humans do some amazing things, from truly enormous undertakings like building a civilization – or raising children who grow to be competent, wise, adults – to small things like going to work on a Tuesday and coming safely home. Sometimes the truly complicated things we take on practically coast toward an amazing seemingly effortless wildly successful finish. Sometimes the simplest practical endeavor seems beyond our abilities. Real. True. Human.

Yesterday, I got that flat tire from over the weekend repaired. I felt fortunate that it was repairable – I didn’t need to replace all 4 tires on my AWD vehicle. I happily got into my car this morning and went on in to work on a very typical Tuesday (which I’ve been doing in a co-work space these days). Totally the routine, ordinary thing. Only…

I did just make pretty significant changes to the medications I take. Not just adding a new one – I added two. Not only that, my doctor changed the dosage on one I’ve taken for a decade without a change. Not enough change? I also needed to change the timing on that one so that it did not conflict with one of the new ones in a weird way. So, okay. My meds are all switched up, and I need to give myself some patience while I get used to all that. Sounds reasonable. Hell, the effect on my physical and emotional experiences are very much improved in most regards – which is great news! Here’s the thing, though, one of the changes seems to be having – at least for now – an “unintended consequence”; I feel more relaxed and chill moment-to-moment and have the subjective perception that I am, indeed, more “relaxed” and comfortable, and my partner seems to (generally) find me easier to be around… but… I have much less emotional “runway” from the moment I become impatient or annoyed with something and when that impatience or annoyance overcomes my (very) limited ability to provide “top down” control of my reaction. I feel fussy, and I’ve got a short-fuse, and I honestly have a very limited capacity to “deal with shit”. So… there’s that. On top of the changes. I mean – it’s part of those changes, but it’s a part I hope fades as I sort myself out on the new meds. (If you can, try to hold on to what I’ve said about where I’m at, for just a little longer.)

My work day was a good one. I feel valued and appreciated. I walked away from my work at the end of the day, headed to the bank to run an errand for my Traveling Partner (well, in support of his new business, so, yeah). No problem; he was crazy busy receiving a shipment in several packages (also business). Cool, cool. No big. I’ve got the room in my day to do it. About half-way there, I felt very much that the car was not handling the way I expected it to, though I had some trouble putting my finger on quite what was going on with that. As I passed the tire place I’d spent part of my morning at yesterday, I thought to myself “maybe I should ask them to check that tire they replaced…?” I pulled in to the bank parking lot less than a mile further on, eager to be done with the day’s work and headed home to hang out with my partner. As I parked, the “check tire pressure” light came on – again.

Wait… a different tire is flat??

I got out of the car hearing a hissing sound that was pretty loud and turned to look. Flat tire. Fucking hell – seriously?? I felt my entire body tense up. My jaw clenched. I felt my body begin the first changes that signal an incoming panic attack or hysterics. I took a breath, then another. I called my partner and told him I had a flat – another flat. I told him, feeling almost desperate and very much “on the edge”, that I wasn’t even a mile from the tire place! I wondered if I should “just drive it over” but that tire was already even flatter than when I first looked at it. Shit. I can’t drive on that. He confirmed and reminded me “they have a truck” and suggested I call them. So, sure, okay. That makes sense. My stress level immediately dropped. Wow. Real progress and change. This works! I phoned the tire place and they assured me they’d get someone over right away. I went into the bank, and rescheduled the appointment I had (it wasn’t urgent, just needful, and I had had that time available). I settled myself down for the wait…

Is that a fucking knife??

As I waited, I looked closer at the pictures – then at the actual tire. My Traveling Partner had noticed first, and I admit, I was skeptical, but yeah… that looks like a knife broken off in my tire. What the hell?? How did that happen? This is not that kind of community. I don’t live that kind of life or keep company with folks inclined toward this sort of violence… wild. What the hell? “Weird spot on the tire for that sort of thing… wouldn’t that take a lot of force?” I thought to myself.

I made it safely to the tire place after their truck showed up and reinflated the tire. It was only a half mile drive, but I could feel the tire “softening” as I drove, and I cursed the rush hour traffic under my breath, fearful that I wouldn’t make it before the car was rolling on the rim. I did get there before that happened, but minutes after I parked the car, that tire was entirely flat once more. I’m glad I wasn’t doing any freeway driving!

The tire folks were pleasant, efficient, and brought me the bit of metal that punctured my tire. Sure enough – it is the snapped off end of someone’s no-longer-very-useful Gerber knife. The tip was quite gone, though, and the tire technician pointed that out and also the thickness and sturdiness of the metal generally; it seemed unlikely it was a hostile act. More likely, he suggested, it was a bit of debris fallen from a trash truck or work truck that I ran over. He suggested the front tire might have popped it up, making it more likely to pierce the rear tire, and becoming embedded, then driven-in as I drove on, unaware. Seemed reasonable. They put an appropriate “loaner” tire on the car and ordered a replacement. I am grateful that the minimal wear on the tires made that feasible at all. I’ll go back tomorrow or Thursday, when the proper replacement is in, and they’ll put that on and rebalance my tires and I’ll be on my way. Fine.

It just doesn’t seem like “all that” now…

…but…

I got home. I brought burgers. We relaxed until a neighbor came around with some work my partner had offered to finish tonight, and he took off to do that, and returned a bit later. Somewhere along the way, I don’t know, I just … finally didn’t have anything left resilience-wise, and a handful of interactions later, and I just could not maintain the facade of doing my best. I mean… I guess that was all I had left “doing my best-wise”, in spite of fancy new medication, and improvements in self-care. I just wasn’t able to accommodate even one more critical observation of any sort, however well-intended or legitimately helpful. I managed not to lose my temper, but my frustration was growing more evident by the minute, and I found myself no longer willing to wrestle my emotions into compliance. I just wanted to be left alone with my problematic experience for a little while. I found myself needing a lot of nurturing and emotional support – way beyond what would be a reasonable ask – and just gave in to being alone with my bullshit for a little while.

So many times we fail to be kind to each other when we’re “going through changes” – it isn’t easy. Even something like changing the timing on just one prescription, depending on what it is and what it does, can have profound effects on our emotional resilience, ability to manage our mood, our executive functions (or disfunctions), or our experience of the world around us. (Don’t be a dick to people – you may not know what they are going through.) (While you’re at it – don’t be a dick to yourself, you definitely do know what you’re going through, and you could use a break from your own bullshit.)

I’ve got a mug of very excellent drinking chocolate. There’s soft holiday-ish jazz playing in the background. My pain is decently well-managed, and the mild vertigo I woke with this morning has dissipated. It was actually quite an excellent work day, and I’m making room in my awareness to really savor that. My Traveling Partner has a lot going on this week, and I admire his ability to balance all of that with… all of me. It can’t be easy. (I’m annoyed by the feeling that if I try to say that to him right now, instead of “thanks for understanding”, I’ll get a short lecture from him on why it isn’t easy, instead, and I’m irked with myself for letting that hold me back.)

…I’m still holding back tears, but I think they’re just an artifact of the ups and downs of the day I’ve had, and an expression of frustration and fatigue, and the complexity of changing my medications. It’ll pass… or I’ll cry myself to sleep later. Either way, tomorrow is a new day, and I can begin again.

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Categories anger, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Frustration, gratitude, health, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, War and News of War

Lost in Thought

December 12, 2022 //
0

I have been sitting at my keyboard now for some time. I occasionally take a sip of my coffee. My thoughts occupy my attention. I’d often be putting those into words and dropping them onto this previously blank page… this morning I am mostly just sitting and reflecting. There’s quite a lot to consider, and I am in this co-work space quite early, and it is quiet. I am alone. It’s a good time and place for thinking thoughts.

…How is it I still have not ever finished Proust? I’ve restarted In Search of Lost Time dozens of times… never even finished the first of its seven fucking volumes. LOL I reliably start it with enthusiasm – even find it captivatingly beautiful and wholly engaging – but some interruption or another will inevitably distract me, and honestly it’s very much the sort of thing that wants one’s full attention. For seven volumes. LOL I barely sit through full length movies anymore. I sit with that while, and it brings me back to this CGP Grey video, “Thinking About Attention” – I recommend it.

Why are human relationships so… challenging? I mean, it often seems that the closer we are I am with someone, the more difficult it can be to communicate clearly. It often seems as if I’m fighting to be understood through a fog of their assumptions and expectations, or that one or the other of us is more “waiting to talk” that really listening, and oh-my-fucking-god I am so over being interrupted and talked over (says a woman who constantly interrupts and talks over people – what the hell??)! (I could do better on this one, for sure. I keep practicing.)

My back aches this morning, and I’m cross. I also adjusted the timing on one of my prescriptions to better fit the whole picture of when/what I am taking, and that likely has something to do with my mood this morning. I slept through the night mostly, other than getting up to pee, and once when my partner rather randomly woke me up for some reason – that, unfortunately, is getting way too common, and I find myself frustrated that I’m not comfortable setting a boundary that I really really really want to make super clear; “I want to sleep, I need the sleep I get. Please don’t wake me for anything that isn’t an emergency.”

My car has a flat tire. I noticed yesterday – a Sunday. No place local does that kind of work on Sundays, so this morning I am driving my Traveling Partner’s sedan instead of my SUV. It’s fine, but that may be one more thing affecting my mood (the flat, I mean), although I am fortunate to have that option (to drive my partner’s car) available instead of finding myself having to be late to work or taking a day off to deal with a flat tire.

The new meds are definitely an improvement on a lot of things. The change in my thyroid medication seems to be a bigger deal than I anticipated; I have the energy to give a shit about more things more of the time. I’m not used to that. The result is that I’m taking more attentive care of my health (watching calories more closely, making a point to get more exercise, being more committed to my meditation practice), which seems like a very good thing. The new meds are also calming my anxiety (win!) – but neither my partner nor I are actually used to “this version of me”, yet.

…

I get lost in the background picture on my desktop right now. It’s a slideshow of pictures of a specific vantage point of the Portland waterfront, seen from the Eastbank Esplanade. In this picture, the sun is bright in the sky, and the water sparkles around a sailboat silhouetted in the bright sunshine. The sky is intensely blue, with a few white clouds low on the horizon, behind the skyline. Only today do I notice that the sailboat is flying no fewer than three American flags on it. I find myself scanning the waterfront for crowds – was this the Fourth of July weekend? Was it a festival weekend? What’s up with all those flags??

The stress leading up to finally getting my anxiety medicated got so intense I tore my poor cuticles to pieces. Small hangnails and spots where my cuticles simply split (my last manicure was not great) became things I couldn’t stop picking at absent-mindedly in anxious moments (which were most moments). My hands looked pretty bad by Friday. I struggled with the embarrassment of that, and my concern that no ethical manicurist would want to work on those terrible looking fingertips. Eventually, though, I got over it sufficiently to stop into a nail shop and get my hands cared for. My new manicure looks great, and my hands feel better. Worth it, although the sparkle and shine are sometimes distracting. lol

My Traveling Partner’s new CNC machine is on the way. This is not a replacement for the one he has, it’s an addition. I’m excited, but also keeping half an eye out for an opportunity to slip away to the coast or something, to give him room to work while he sets that up and calibrates it. I just don’t need to be around complicating that process, and don’t benefit from being on the receiving end of his frustration or distracted moments, myself. lol (I jot down a reminder to ask him when he expects it to arrive, so I can perhaps make reservations somewhere.)

“What a day.” I think to myself, then laugh – the day has hardly begun and there is literally nothing wrong so far. Fucking human primates, always making things hard on themselves.

…I think I’ll begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Words

Snowflakes and Shortbread Cookies

December 5, 2022 //
0

It was a lovely weekend at home. We had a bit of a snow shower yesterday, and enjoyed a quiet day at home celebrating my Traveling Partner’s birthday; one more of the “winter holidays” to enjoy. 😀 We had a delicious stir-fry for dinner (one of his favorites; bell peppers and beef), and for dessert pumpkin pie (at his request). We hung out, enjoyed each other, and watched the snow fall most of the day, although it didn’t stick much at our altitude, and was gone as the late afternoon “warmth” was enough to turn it all to rain (and mud). I baked shortbread cookies in the afternoon, while my partner tinkered in his shop.

The first snow this year, here.

This morning, my day started quite gently and pleasantly. Good coffee. Quiet lo-fi on the stereo. I’d been up for hours when my Traveling Partner woke. He let me know he did not sleep well. He seems cross and quite out-of-sorts with the world, at least for now, and says he did not sleep well. I offer my sympathy and an expression of regret, as I head to my studio (where I generally write, and turn my attention inward, seeking – if nothing else – to avoid “poking the bear”, and hoping to give my partner some quiet time in which to fully wake up and get his shit together).

My writing is interrupted by my Traveling Partner, who is still feeling cross and annoyed to have slept so poorly. He asks me in an aggravated tone to check my oxygen (using the pulse oximeter feature on my phone). At 99% it’s better than usual, and my attentive upright posture at my desk is intended to support good breathing and also help minimize the pain I’m in. He didn’t ask that question, and yes, I’m in enough pain this morning to have taken an Rx for that almost first thing. I have little enthusiasm for dealing with relationship stress stemming from my pain and his lack of sleep this morning. My solution to the challenges of the morning? Get the hell out of the house, taking my laptop over to the co-work space I generally work from on Tuesdays and Thursdays. It’s a location suited to writing and there’s plenty of coffee available, too.

My arthritis pain this morning is a big contributor to why I chose to simply, quickly, and without fuss get the fuck out of the house as soon as I could; I can manage my pain and my anxiety, but I’m not likely to be easily able to also “manage” (meaning support or account for) his today, too. Seemed the wiser choice to just get the hell out of each other’s way for a while. For sure my writing does not benefit from nagging or vexed interruptions, and neither does my temperament.

…Damn, though… the coffee is so much better at home. LOL

…

…

…

…Yeah, this coffee is so bad it is distracting. LOL Fuck office coffee. LOL

My partner pings me to let me know he misses me. Also to ask about my recent lab results. I take a look, and find myself almost immediately stymied by the VA’s health website. Nothing unusual; their technology and user interface is not exactly state-of-the-art. Funny thing, though; even this small change to my medication (I’m already calling my beta blocker my “chill pill”) has noticeable results even with small day-to-day frustrations. My partner’s morning grumpiness? Not so big a deal – I’ll just get out of his way while he wakes up. No problem. Can’t log into this website or that tool? Meh. I’m over it already and it’s fine; I’ll just do something else and try again later. Not a big deal. Only… these are precisely the sorts of everyday challenges that could upend my entire experience and send me spinning off course, so easily! No tears this morning. No tantrums. Just… moments. Nice change. 🙂 It’s not “everything”, but it’s something – and that’s enough. One step at a time. Incremental improvements will add up. 😀

I sip my coffee and think about the holidays. The tree is up. There are holiday lights on the mantelpiece. There is a Giftmas pudding awaiting its moment. Holiday cards have been sent. The first snowflakes have fallen. Thanksgiving and my Traveling Partner’s birthday are both behind us. There’s no great pressure on the Yule holiday-to-come; we plan for it to be a moment on the calendar, enjoyed warmly, wrapped in love, and characterized more by the festive morsels and holiday cookies than any great number of gifts. We’re focused on other things this year. There will be some small budget for gift-giving, but more of a token of the holiday than a prominent feature is what we’ve discussed. 🙂 I’m even (more than) okay with that. It’s where we are right now.

Giftmas glow. Glad tidings. Happy Home.

I sit for some minutes more. I breathe in and take stock of how I feel. I breathe out and let go of lingering anxiety. I repeat this several times, slightly different iterations with each breath. I breathe in and feel a sense of place within my body. I breathe out and let go of tension I feel in my shoulders, in my back. I breathe in and listen to the quiet of this office place. I breathe out and feel my contentment spread. In. Then out. Just breathing. I “pause” (not the breathing, just the focus on it) to write every now and then. A paragraph. A sentence. A thought. I add a link. I add an image. I look the whole mess over. I resume my observations and my breathing exercise. Back and forth. Breathing. Sipping coffee. Writing. I feel my body and my mind begin to “meet in the middle” feeling more contented and relaxed as I proceed. This is what I was working on when I started the morning. It’s nice to find my way back and “finish what I was doing”.

…It would be nice if the weather were sufficiently pleasant and mild to get a good long walk in…

I think about the day ahead. It’s a day off, although it is a Monday. This feels very luxurious to me. Any time I take a Monday off, specifically, it feels so luxurious. 😀 I’ve a small number of things on my to-do list today – some laundry (just putting clean stuff away), and some tidying up. It’s planned to be a very relaxed day. I hope I succeed there. 🙂 Maybe I’ll bake more holiday cookies…? Maybe I’ll read, or study, or paint…?

I’ve already used one “do over” this morning – it’s good to get comfortable with embracing new beginnings. Useful tool in a chaotic world. Already time to begin again. 😀

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights
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