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Tales of Small Joys

June 12, 2023 //
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We returned home from our camping trip yesterday afternoon. It was a relaxed trip, and a really beautiful drive, and we still felt the joyful vibe of our getaway as we got closer to home, in spite of the unexpectedly abrupt “return to reality” that resulted from city traffic on a Sunday, distracted drivers, and pointless rudeness from strangers utterly pre-occupied with themselves as they hurtled down the highway in their vehicles. I think we both could have done without any of that, but… it would have taken so much more to wreck our wonderful getaway.

The titular “small joys” were just literally everywhere as we spent the days of my “birthday vacation” together. Funny, we spend most days together, and very little time apart (since the start of the pandemic, and ongoing), but these were definitely special. So special. I feel loved. I feel supported. I hope my Traveling Partner does, too. We worked together as a team on our camping adventures, and that experience grew and deepened each day, and each time we packed up our gear, or set up or tore down our camp. Room to grow? For sure. Still – it was amazing time well-spent in the company of the human being most dear to me. Hard to beat that.

One small joy; the serendipitous utterly unplanned and unintentional image of a heart on my toast in the morning. 😀

It’s been fun. Remarkable. Memorable. Filled with love and laughter. We walked together. Laughed together. Cooked together. We spent our time together. Not just “in the same room” together – we really shared the time and the experience in a wholesome engaged way. I even felt we were “hearing each other” more easily, listening more deeply with greater ease, and sharing more openness. It was luscious and loving and just frankly wonderful. It was the two of us. I returned home feeling more secure about “us”, and more whole and comfortable in my own skin. Wonderful.

…I managed to avoid being eaten alive by bugs, and until the very last day, didn’t seem to have even one insect bite. At all. Now? Well… I’ve got some kind of irritation on the back of one hand that itches like fire (looks like a tiny spider bite, perhaps). I try not to scratch it, mostly unsuccessfully. I find great delight in refrigerated Benadryl cream. lol

Now? Well, today is my actual 60th birthday. As is so common, I just don’t feel any differently in any noteworthy way than I did yesterday. Well… except one thing; I feel re-engaged and energized to deal with my health and fitness. It’s not too late. (When is it ever, truly, so long as I can still breathe?) I guess that’s a thing, and I hope to get some value out of that feeling.

I’m enjoying my birthday. Breakfast out after days of wilderness adventure. Cake and ice cream. Cartoons and music. The company (and romantic affection) of my Traveling Partner. What a lovely birthday. It’s not over yet, either… I think I’ll begin again. 😀

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Spring, The Art of Being

6 to 60

June 6, 2023 //
1

Well damn. I guess I’m a real grown-up… 6 days to my 60th birthday. Wild. In spite of some hard living, some hardships, some trauma, some misadventure… I am standing in this place, considering this milestone birthday ahead of me. Wow. I mean, I legitimately did not expect that making it this far was ever a given. Wasn’t at all sure I would… but here I am. 😀

My Traveling Partner and I have plans to camp for a few days. Really getting away, out into the trees, away from the traffic, the stress, the work, the world… the people. I know that I, personally, really need a break from “everything”. Just for a minute. A few quiet hours. Some distance. A different view. A new perspective. A moment of my life that isn’t in any way whatsoever about working, earning a living, maintaining a household… just fresh air, soft breezes, sunshine, and birdsong. Maybe the occasional passing shower. 🙂 I already know my results will vary, and that the plan is not the experience, and neither is the map the world. So. There’s that.

…No idea what the days ahead will really be like, I just know I’m looking forward to logging out of my work tools, and locking the door of the house behind us as we leave for a few days. 😀 (Will I write? Maybe, but I won’t have a cell signal, and my words will be ink on paper, for later – I’m also going equipped to paint in watercolor, and I’m taking my camera of course. My Traveling Partner is taking along a couple of good books, and his fishing tackle.)

Slow days ahead. I’m eager to embrace that, without giving a thought to what may be “on the other side” – we’ll see when we get there, eh?

In the meantime, there are flowers in the garden, and sunny days in the forecast. The weather is lovely and mild, summery and warm without being unpleasantly scorching hot, generally. Life (and love) feel good. I’m not rushing through that feeling, either; I’m making a point to slow down and savor it, as much as I can, as often as I notice how very pleasant things seem to be, presently. Quiet reflection is a worthwhile use of my time, particularly when my thoughts feel infused with soft joy and contentment. I smile thinking of my Traveling Partner; he’s also eager to get out on the road. The truck is already packed of all but a handful of last minute items (my camera bag, food…).

I catch myself in a fit of sneezing – seasonal allergies. Fucking hell, where are those tissues…?? It reminds me to check the tracking on my inbound prescription refills… will they be here in time…? Looks like they will, and I find myself feeling relieved about that. One less thing that could cause background stress while I’m earnestly working to rest my busy mind. 😀

Well, damn… looks like time to begin again. 😀 If I don’t talk to you before I leave… I’ll drop a note right here when I get back. 😀

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Spring, Summer, The Art of Being, turning 60

Waking With The Sun

June 1, 2023 //
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Summer is approaching. Mornings, here, are sometimes still chilly. Night time temperatures still fall well below 50 F/10 C. Things cool off before the sun warms them once more. Some afternoons barely hit 70 F/21 C. Pretty comfortable weather, generally, and very good for sleeping… I wake with the sun a lot of mornings in spite of that. Like this morning. It’s nice quiet time for reflection, though, if I wake thoroughly and don’t find myself stumbling groggily through the first hours of the day.

This particular morning I am sipping my coffee and watching the sky beyond the windows change color, hints of pale grays and strange blues give way to peach, lavender, pink, and hints of orange as the sun rises. Pretty. I think about the flowers in the garden. I think about my upcoming birthday (11 days away, now) and our planned camping trip (5 days!). I think about pain, and pain management, and these stiff contrary bones. I think about recent delicious meals, and how much I appreciate my Traveling Partner’s cooking, and how nice it is that he’s been doing more of that lately. Good times, shared. I think about that, too. No misery here. It’s a pleasant morning. I think about the weekend ahead. I think about spending time in the studio… which competes for my attention, alongside “time in the garden”, “time on the trail”, and “time off-roading with my partner”.

Planted these last fall, and I’ve already forgotten what they are, other than “pretty”.

I pause my musings long enough to really appreciate how fortunate I am to enjoy so much of this life, so thoroughly. “This too shall pass.” Good times are wonderful. Savoring them, and reflecting on them, is delightful and healthy. Healing. Still, part of the point in doing so is to ensure they become part of my implicit memory as well, and a well-spring of future resilience upon which I can call when times are darker, and life feels less rich and satisfying. Just keeping it real; my results vary. I have some rough moments here and there. You too? We all do.

I write less often these days. Not because there’s nothing to say, nor because I am wrapped in joy 100% of my time, nor am I, contrariwise, wrapped in misery. I’m just over here living life. I write less because, honestly, I spent much less time in solitary reflection, and less time forcing myself through practices to pull myself out of some messy emotional quagmire. I live. Breathe. Exhale. Relax. Succeed. Fail. Begin again. I try. I explore. I set boundaries. I yield to circumstances. It’s life. It’s not perfect, but it’s also quite a lot better than “just okay”. I sometimes feel I am on the edge of “thriving full-time”, which is pretty remarkable, considering the entirety of my experience.

I sip my coffee feeling my moment shift gears from “quiet reflection” to feeling filled with gratitude and love. It’s a nice start to a new day. I smile and think about my partner, at home, still sleeping. My heart beats with love.

It’s time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Spring, Summer

Memorials and Demons

May 30, 2023 //
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Memorial Day is sometimes a hard one (for me). The days leading up to it this year were particularly difficult, though I don’t really have a reason why. I’ve lost a few folks over the years. That will never not be true in my life; once we lose the first one, it’s all “more” from there. Spent some time over the weekend reflecting on those losses, and those people. I spent the time with my Traveling Partner, and it was a very healing time we managed to share. I’m grateful.

Losses are hard. We feel our own pain most (and worst, generally). Running from it doesn’t change it – the way out is through. The challenge is not getting stalled in the momentary misery of grief.

The weekend was summery, and fairly mild. We got out among the trees. I got out into the garden. We drove beautiful miles and shared deep conversations. I needed that. We both did, I guess, and we’re better for it.

I’m sipping my morning coffee a bit surprised at how poorly I slept last night after a couple days of extraordinarily good sleep, deep and restful… last night my anxiety flared up with the recollection that today is a work day. Silly, but real. I woke numerous times to double-check that my “sunrise alarm” was actually set. It was. Every time I checked. lol It remains true that a few days of healing and emotionally gentle and nourishing time don’t “fix” anxiety. It comes and goes. My results vary. This morning I got up and managed to start the day without taking it personally or escalating it beyond the obvious; it’s disordered, and there is no reason to feed it and give it more energy.

I smile when I think about the weekend, and my Traveling Partner. Good times.

…Time to begin again…

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, grief, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, Spring, Summer, The Art of Being

In Search of the Frictionless Experience

May 1, 2023 //
0

It’s our anniversary today. 12 years. Lovely day for it. Not a sunny day, but the weather isn’t bad. The stormy looking clouds scooting past overhead create some beautiful views. No rain so far.

My Traveling Partner was still sleeping when I left the house early-ish this morning. I got a pleasant walk in, and ran a couple errands. I headed home when I got his ping letting me know he was awake. Efficient. One of those errands was picking up a new “spa frog” for the hot tub, and by lunch time, my partner had the chemistry adjusted and ready for soaking. Damn that felt soooo good, too. My aching back was enormously grateful.

Gratitude is definitely something filling my heart today. Gratitude and love. This relationship is pretty mind-blowing and characterized by love, loving, and mutual regard. I adore this particular human being rather a lot. Perhaps, I sometimes think, too much…? Love is the good stuff, though, isn’t it? 🙂 Hard to argue that it isn’t. I smile and think of his arms around me. Our experience of love isn’t “perfect”; we’re both human beings, and we’ve both reached where we are in life by wading through rather a lot of pointless crap, bad decision-making, and individual trauma, so… yeah… we’ve each got our baggage and our “issues”. Still… I never lose sight of how very much this human being loves me, and what a delightful return-on-investment (because I love him) this love is. We’re happy – for most values of “happy”.

…12 years…

Today we’re also, in addition to celebrating our anniversary, waiting on packages. This is a less successful or satisfying endeavor than simply loving each other, unfortunately (seems like it should require quite a lot less work all around). Packages that should have been delivered, based on expectation-setting by shippers, Friday. Weather? Nope. It’s a pretty mild spring most places. Civil disorder? Not on that level (yet) in this country (generally). With regard to at least one package, it actually looks like just maybe it’s in the process of being stolen. This is seriously aggravating. The tracking tools available these days certainly make easier to spot sketchy weird bullshit, though.

My partner finally gets a support call through to an actual human being, who agrees the particulars look exceedingly questionable. They start doing whatever is to be done to track down it’s location in the physical world. What a bunch of bullshit. Of course, the stress of dealing with it harshes the mellow of a lovely day. I step away (here, now) long enough to get enough distance from the blast of frustration and ire to (hopefully) avoid being triggered by it. So far, so good.

I think about this love of ours, and the future camping fun we’re already planning to enjoy together. That’s part of today’s frustration; the items we’re waiting on are a handful of basic essentials that we need for safe (enjoyable) off-roading, and efficient management/storage of our gear. I know my Traveling Partner is eager to take the truck out and get it off-road for a few days, looking for some great camping spots to enjoy together on my birthday (and beyond). I understand the maddening frustration of packages that don’t come when promised, or arrive damaged, or… just don’t arrive. (Just gonna say it; Amazon’s services have less and less actual value as time passes, and I no longer use them as my “go to” when I am shopping online. Between the shipping disappointments – which are numerous – and the knock-offs or scam products mixed in with legit listings, it’s just not worth the hassles, or the price.)

I smile, thinking of my partner. Thinking of spending time together in the truck, on the road, out in the woods, out on a trail… fuck I love this guy. It’s the kind of love that makes it so worthwhile to do my best to be the woman I most want to be.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, Healthy Living, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Spring, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5, Washington Trails
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