Archives for category: more than a little bit of bitching
« Older Entries
Newer Entries »

Breathe Through It

August 3, 2020 //
0

I woke up groggy and in pain. My Traveling Partner, strangely, was already up. I made coffee, and retreated to my studio to wake up and get my shit together before interacting with the world – or my partner. Pain makes me super cranky, and fairly pre-occupied, which is both commonplace and also total bullshit (to have to deal with). I sip my coffee and look at pictures of flowers in nursery catalogs online. I am thinking about Spring, although it is quite a way off, on the other side of a winter that is not yet here, beyond a summer that has only barely started. lol Long-range planning makes for an excellent distraction.

I know that at some point, this coffee will be finished, and a new work day will begin. Sometime, between this moment and that one, I may soak in the hot tub and try to ease the aches and pain of arthritis and middle-aged-ness. It’s a lovely way to start the day (and week). A helpful luxury that has reduced the amount of pain I’m in, day-to-day. I’m grateful for that, and grateful for a partner that knows how to care for the hot tub (and is teaching me the things I need to know to do so, myself).

Pain sucks. I straighten my posture, and take a deep breath. I exhale, and relax, and allow my awareness of things that don’t hurt to become more prominent in my experience of self, right now. It’s not a cure for pain, but it helps, some. Later, if it is still this bad, I’ll take something for it, before I start the work day. One thing at a time… and next? I’ll just begin again. 🙂

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Allegories, gratitude, health, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, Summer

Seemingly Endless

July 16, 2020 //
0

I went to bed in pain last night. I woke up in pain this morning. It’s been days of pain more than typically severe, following days of admittedly “over-doing it” during the move. Manual labor is hard work. I mean… that’s obvious, right? It’s why people get paid for it (and should likely be paid more than they are). I’m not as up to it as I was as a younger (and fitter) woman. That’s just real. Fuck I’m tired of being in this much pain, though. It seems endless, at this point, and no real relief in sight…

…I breathe, exhale, relax, and let that go (again). I stretch gently, start my day with some yoga, and meditation. I check my posture as I sit here sipping coffee. I take a moment for real presence with my body, and ask an important question in this moment; “how do I feel right now?” There’s a reason for that – implicit memory changes slowly over time. If I become mired in my experience of pain, moment-to-moment, I slowly become more inclined to perceive pain as an “always” condition, unceasing and unchanging – and that’s not accurate. My experience (and the result of my effort to manage my pain) varies. In this moment, right now? It’s not that bad. I’ve got some chronic long-standing muscle tension/pain, and that’s there…but it’s as mild as it generally gets, at the start of the day, and that’s true today, too. I sit with that for a few moments, maintaining awareness of the lack of severity right now. Manageable. I make a point to relax my shoulders (again) and correct my posture (again). I know that “pushing myself” too far without giving my body a chance to heal and recover is a poor choice. Moving was a lot of work. Sore muscles recover, given a chance, and good self-care. Painful, but irrelevant. I allow myself to consider that “sore muscles” may be the majority of my pain, lately.

…Last night was bad though…

…I breathe, exhale, relax, and let that go (again). I pull my restless monkey-mind back to this moment, this mild amount of pain, and hold my awareness of it, present, alert, observing. As I sit, I almost don’t hurt at all… I make a point of feeling that, and holding that experience in my awareness for some moments. Implicit memory changes slowly over time.

I sip my morning coffee, watching the sky lighten beyond the window and the fence, beyond the pear tree and the neighbor’s house. It’s a new day. I can begin again. 🙂

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, Frustration, health, Healthy Living, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Practices, Sleepless Nights, Summer, The Art of Being

Reflections on the Value of Human Lives

May 31, 2020 //
2

Short one this morning. One white voice taking notice of more black lives lost. It’s not okay, it’s not acceptable, and we can, as a nation and as a species, do better. Being white should not be an advantage in the 21st century, that it so obviously is, is something worth being aware of – and ashamed of. Certainly, it is something worth fixing. Black lives matter. They do. Lives of all colors “matter”,  but – the lives we need to be talking about right now are black lives. Brown lives. Lives of people of color. Because for some reason, we continue to tolerate a lesser standard of treatment for those lives. Less regard for their value. Less money in their paychecks. Less liberty under the same constitution that values constitutional freedoms so highly for white lives. It’s a bitter bill to swallow. Take your medicine anyway, white America. Heal this massive wound. (We can’t heal something we refuse to see…)

Racism is not a problem that needs to be corrected by people of color. It’s a problem white people need to fix. Go ahead, tell me you are not racist. Worse still, tell me there’s no problem. If that’s your position, please take time to educate yourself – there is a lot of evidence that tends to disagree with that position. White people need to be speaking out and taking a stand on this. We need to object when we see it. We need to correct the bullshit racism of our elders, of our family members, of (perhaps) even our friends. We need to raise our white voices, and carry them to the highest offices in the land, and demand reform. Real reform. Real change.

Be part of making the world truly a better place. “All lives” won’t matter, not really, until black lives really do matter – to white people.

I don’t really think I should have to say any of this. It’s too obvious, and change is too long overdue. I can’t believe we’re still having this conversation after so many years. Be part of making real change. Be the person you most want to be. Make room for your fellows, and for strangers, and yes also for people of color,  to also be the people they most want to be, under a flag that truly represents “liberty and justice for all”. We’re going to need some verbs, and a lot of new beginnings, and our results may vary as we learn new ways – but it does need to happen, and let’s be real, it’s white people that need to make that change. Yes, all white people. Use your voice, use your vote, use the power of your “all mighty dollar” – your choices are involved. Mine, too.  (How will you object, without becoming proof of the problem?)

It will take white choices and white voices to address the American sin of racism; we made this mess, and we need to clean it up.

Are you ready to change the world?

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories anger, Despair, grief, more than a little bit of bitching, War and News of War, Words

Sometimes the People We Love Most Seem Like Complete Assholes

May 23, 2020 //
0

Was it me? Was it them? Is anyone at all “right”? Is anyone “the good guy”? It doesn’t feel like it. We’re each having our own experience. Really listening to each other – both of us, reliably – is not a thing right now. This shit went so wrong that even the neighbors are awake with it. It’s not okay. I can tell I’m not “the good guy”. It’s pretty much a given that I’m not the good guy, any time shit blows up; complex PTSD is nasty shit, and most of the time, in most circumstances, when things fall apart this badly, this fast, it’s on me. I’m not being hard on myself, or sarcastic, or fatalistic, or catastrophizing. It’s just statistics. If something goes this badly, this quickly, I can reliably assume with considerable likelihood of being correct that it’s me, because far more often than not, it is. My words. My actions. My reactions. My… something. My PTSD. It’s hard to take, as answers go, and at least right now I’m feeling mostly despair and that bleak sense of “this again?” I feel like I’ve fallen and I can’t get up. Metaphorically speaking.

…I’m so tired of it…

…I’m so tired of me.

Is this “who I am”, when it comes right down to it?

I’m tired of PTSD. So tired of it. The unexpected flash of unreasonable anger/frustration/rage/tears that sweeps in out of literally nowhere, and just lays waste to every fucking thing that could ever have been good about a moment is beyond comprehension, and seems defiant of management or control. It leaves an emotional film of unpleasantness and sorrow over everything that follows for some time.

…But… I have all these excellent practices… all this therapy behind me… all these good intentions… all this fucking work. My demons howl with laughter and general merriment. I can hear them like a Greek chorus, “Fuck your practices you stupid meat puppet! We fucking own you. We will own you until it kills you or destroys everything you love.”

Sure, there’s shit my Traveling Partner fucks up, too. He’s human. I think it’s easy enough to acknowledge his humanity. Sometimes he’s wrong. Sometimes he’s an asshole. Sometimes he’s not either of those things, and shit still goes sideways. I’ve got to acknowledge that he definitely loves me, too; how else could he have stayed through so much of my bullshit? How else could he continue to approach me, seeking to calm things down and soothe me when he is hurting, himself?  Is it enough? Is love actually enough? Can it really keep me trying? Can it really lift me up? Is love enough to get me to hang in there through another freak out? Another break down? Another fuck up? Another moment of missed communication, sabotaged joy, lost delight? Is love enough to endure more of this shit? Is it unreasonable to expect it to be?

What do I even do right now? (What do I even do right, now?)

I’ve lost my appetite. My coffee tastes sour. My head aches. My tears just keep slowly flowing down my face. This is an incredibly painful moment. We’re on the edge of doing something really wonderful together… and I continue to suck as a human being. God damn it. Fucking hell. This is miserable.

…Why am I choosing misery?

(Breathe. Exhale. Let it go. Breathe. Exhale. Let it go, some more. Breathe, exhale, let it go, be here – present in this moment. I remind myself that I am “okay right now”.)

So, now what? I don’t know. I know my partner is hurting in the other room. Emotional pain because this was a painful moment. Physical pain because he’s a human, and aging fucking sucks; old injuries hurt worse as we age than they did when we were recovering from them. Both of us are hurting. There’s no physical violence in this relationship, but we sometimes treat each poorly. Harsh. Unkind words are for sure “better than a punch in the mouth” – but they aren’t good. It’s not what I want from myself. It’s not want I want for myself.

…I just want my pleasant relaxed morning back. I want to roll back the clock and treat my partner well, and feel well-treated in return. We missed our moment. I can’t refuse to own my part in that. I can’t turn away from my critical failures. The way out is through. We learn best through our mistakes and failures. Growth is uncomfortable.

“Begin again.” It’s feeble, but I heard it. That’s something, I guess. I think I want to, too. I just don’t feel confident about the outcome, right now. 😦 That’s even okay. It’s enough to make the effort. It’s enough to begin again.

…and again…

…and again…

We become what we practice. It’s time to practice calm. It’s time to practice loving words. It’s time to practice listening deeply.

…It’s time to begin again.

 

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, Brain Injury, Despair, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, grief, Love, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Spring, The Big 5, War and News of War

TBD

May 15, 2020 //
0

Sipping coffee on a Friday morning, before work. I’m stiff and aching today, and really missing the experience of anticipating a Saturday brunch with a friend. I mean… brunch isn’t an “essential”, and I’d rather not put humankind at risk over a desire for brunch out, but I do miss it. 🙂 I try to spend more time reflecting on, and savoring, the experiences I enjoy, right now, than I do complaining (or ruminating over) the ones I am missing.

…So, moving right along…

Yesterday was pleasant. My Traveling Partner spent his time doing his thing. I spent the day “at” work – in my studio, doing work things, on the work calendar, using work tools. It was a good day, generally. My partner and I enjoyed each other. The day unfolded gently without tension. I smile, and give myself over to a few minutes of joyful reflection and recollection.

My eye lands on the aquarium next to my desk. Needs some work. My early concerns that the plants would not fill enough quickly enough to provide a healthy environment has, over mere weeks, become concern that the floating plants will take over the entire 10 gallon space. lol Balance is needed. Nature needs a hand, in this instance, with some healthy pruning, a water change, and some aquascaping. 😀 Work I look forward to. The weekend is just ahead…

The “sunrise” is more a vague gray lightening of the overcast sky. It’s another rainy day. My back aches with it. I take something for that, rather than wait until I hurt so much I’m a seething rage-monster waiting for an opportunity to blow an inconsequential challenge way out of proportion. 🙂 Honestly? A fairly commonplace experience, hardly worth commenting on, certainly not worth bitching about for more than a paragraph, today. 🙂

…It’s already time to begin again…

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, Love, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Spring, The Art of Being
« Older Entries
Newer Entries »