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A Day for Me

March 29, 2017 //
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I took today off. I didn’t plan to be sick, I just planned to take the day off for my annual physical and some downtime. I scheduled a hair appointment (to have the wild lavender and pink and green that it is now refreshed before an upcoming concert). Later, I unscheduled the hair appointment, remembering to be frugal while I house hunt; the funds will be needed, more than likely. I re-planned the day to do some “go sees” of new listings in the afternoon. Yesterday, I canceled that too. I’m sick. I will just go get my physical, and come home and sip tea and read, I suppose…

…Nope. My plans are over-turned by the rental management here in the community. It is, apparently, “inspection time” again. (Please imagine me rolling my eyes irritably at this point right here.) I don’t have much to do to be ready, but I have canvases out in my studio, and I’ll just fret about the stupid inspection if I don’t spend an hour tidying up a bit, regardless. So. I guess I’m getting my physical and coming home to housework. The inspections are on Thursday. I won’t be home. I’ll have already taken today off from work, and can’t cut into my work hours further without putting time-sensitive work at risk of not being completed. It makes me uncomfortable to have anyone in my space when I’m not home, these days (other than my Traveling Partner), and the last time my landlady was in my apartment on a day I wasn’t at home? Yeah, I was burglarized. I’ve lost trust, and feel anxious about having her in my apartment in my absence. Work from home? I wish. The work I’ll specifically be doing is much more handily done with the vast acreage of widescreen dual monitors connected to the network directly than it can be at home on a laptop screen connected through VPN. I’m just going to have to adult this one. I’m annoyed by that, but not unprepared. I managed to avoid letting it keep me awake last night… mostly. I got 4 and a half hours of sleep. :-\

I woke mostly clear-headed, head still stuffy, lungs not yet congested (yay!), and still willing to embrace life as a goodness. That’s something. Today is  not the day I planned. (It often isn’t.) It is, however, a day out of the office, with a little more than typical looseness to it. I remind myself that this irritant (the inspection) is just one of the many small things driving me so urgently to find my own place – really my own, as in “homeowner”.  The inspection (for me) is a nothing event, anyway; I live a tidy, quiet, gentle life, and take good care of this space. The inspection never amounts to more than a casual walk-through, I just won’t be here, which really creeps me out. So. I’m inconvenienced and uncomfortable. I’ll get over it.

I am my own cartographer on life’s journey. There is no rule book, no map, no user’s guide for being human. We are each having our own experience. The map is not the world. The day… is not the plan. I’m still okay right now. 🙂

 

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Categories anger, Anxiety, Brain Injury, Free Will, health, Healthy Living, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, The Big 5

Soft Gray Morning

March 26, 2017 //
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The busy-ness of life finally caught up with me. Cold symptoms that I woke with yesterday morning seem no worse today, nor are they diminished. Fatigue yesterday resulted in hours of napping, and an early bed time. I didn’t sleep particularly deeply, but my sleep was satisfying and uninterrupted. I managed a few minutes more than 8 hours and woke feeling deeply rested, in minimal pain. Skillful self-care today should result in being fully rested and prepared for another week of work. It’s not fancy, but it is sustainable. I sip my coffee contentedly and begin to plan my day.

I take a break from writing (and day planning) to meditate, and sip coffee watching the soft gray dawn slowly becoming a lighter shade of rainy gray morning. I return to my writing unmeasured minutes later, but the lush green of the lawn and the dark green-black of the pine silhouetted against the gray morning sky continue to pull my eye from my writing to the window, and the world beyond this quiet space. I continue to sip my coffee contentedly. This moment, right here, is a very nice one, and I am enjoying it fully, and without criticism, judgement, or negative self-talk.

Just beyond the window, the soft gray dawn.

Yesterday I shared a visit to the nearby Farmer’s Market with a friend. She was having a tough time with her emotions and reached out for support. We took time for coffee, conversation, and strolling the market together. She talked about life, love, frustrations, and yearning for… something. I listened. She asked questions, I offered perspective – mine (it’s all I have). We deepened our friendship and our connection as we walked and talked and shared the morning. It feels good to count her as a friend. She is in a very young place in life (no surprise; she’s not yet 21) and feels adrift in a sea of choices and misinformation. No rule book on this playground. No map on this journey. We are each having our own experience. She is as wholesome as any 21st century girl-next-door can be, and filled with the turmoil and power of reactivity, passion, and emotion. She’s very human. We both are. It was time well-spent, and part of life’s curriculum for me as much as it may be for her; I sometimes struggle to build healthy friendships with other women (the chaos and damage being what it is).

The rest of the day unfolded quietly as a series of naps, and interludes of wakefulness that were relaxed and easy. It was a good day for it. I’m in less pain today, more rested, and don’t feel sicker. I’m satisfied that my choices met my needs. This morning will probably lead a similarly quiet easy day of housekeeping, meditating, and reading, as the gray spring sky spatters the windows with raindrops, and the last cold breezes lingering from winter toss the trees and the wind chime. No doubt later I will see geese and ducks, jays and crows, and my squirrel neighbors visiting the feeders as I sip coffee; it is still too early, now, for any of that besides me sipping coffee. 🙂

For now, I linger over my morning coffee unready to begin any daytime activities that require more of me. It’s that quiet time between waking and doing. The rain begins to fall more heavily, and I find myself regretting that I’ve no firewood, although it is not actually cold enough for that to make sense… It would be pretty. 🙂 I watch the rain fall beyond the window. It’s pretty out there too, just… wet. I laugh out loud in the quiet stillness of my studio; I am fearless about rain. I enjoy the rain. It’s a good morning to hike the level paved trail of the park beyond my window, and I settle on a hike as a lovely start to the day. The welcome-home embrace of a warm shower afterward will feel luxurious and sensuous. The morning begins to take shape in my thoughts.

Today is a good day to hike in the rain, to laugh with a friend, and to take care of this fragile vessel.  Today is a good day for self-care, and for living in this moment right here. Today is a good day to practice being the person I most want to be. While I can’t be certain these small things will change the world, they seem a good place to begin again. It’s enough. 🙂

 

 

 

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Categories Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, The Big 5, Uncategorized, women, Words

Human, Adult, One Each

March 24, 2017 //
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Yesterday was… quite a day. Complicated and stressful. On the whole not at all satisfying. No shortage of love, just with multiple side orders of stress and chaos. I don’t much want to consider it right now.

I woke feeling fairly rested, and I was really needing to get more than 5 hours of sleep. I’m grateful I did. The morning began well, although I could have done without my partner’s loud aggravated venting about how the shower was adjusted; I had precisely the same experience yesterday evening, myself, because he’d left it adjusted to meet his needs and I’d forgotten to be mindful he was the last person in the shower, and had similarly sprayed water all over the place. I didn’t yell about it or get pissed off because it’s not that sort of thing for me. I find myself irked that it is that sort of thing for him. We are each having our own experience. I breathe and let it go. I remind myself that yesterday’s health crisis will be likely to have outcomes of its own, because both medication and healing are their own experiences – processes with sensations, and emotions.

It’s a work day. I keep forgetting that detail, wanting so badly to stay home and relax. I’ve enjoyed my Traveling Partner being here. He arrived in crisis, though, and has remained so, although it morphed from an emotional crisis to a physical/medical one. Now things are likely to settle back into more normal routines. I’ll probably be home alone tonight, having served the purposes of nurturing and providing comfort skillfully. There may be an angry moment later, waiting to be had, I’m not always certain of seeing these things coming, but a tiny voice wants to ask “what about what I need? what about my health? what about my circumstances and the details of my experience?”  It sounds pretty selfish to see it written that way. There’s a balance to strike. It’s more difficult when we both have needs to be met more urgently than is usual. I am very likely to put my own aside. It’s what I learned to do. It’s part of why I live alone these days; it’s that much harder to undermine my own needs, and my own long-term self-care, when I am not faced with the constant presence of people so dear to me that I am risk of choosing to undermine my needs in their favor, full-time. Someday I hope to have become so strong and skillful at supporting and caring for the woman in the mirror that I have strength to share, 24/7. I keep practicing.

I’ve held my shit together and done some pretty excellent adulting this week. Tonight I’ll probably loosen my grip a bit, and cry it out. Having that unreservedly emotional moment without judgement or self-criticism, just letting go and feeling the feelings, is also important.

Today is still ahead of me. I’m focused on work. Tomorrow I’ll begin again.

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Categories anger, Anxiety, Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Love, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Spring, The Big 5

Enter Title Here

March 23, 2017 //
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I start writing this morning without a title. That’s not the usual order of things. Another night goes by, I wake and begin again on less than 5 hours of sleep. 4 nights on minimal sleep isn’t going to support great cognition, or emotional balance, and I make a point of setting reminders for later breaks, meals, and coffee. Focus and task management are already impaired. It gets worse on less sleep over time, reliably.

My Traveling Partner blew onto my doorstep yesterday, shortly after I got home from Jury Duty, driven my way by emotional storms and drama elsewhere. We hang out. He talks. I listen. I do my best to avoid criticizing that other person in his life, and to just be here for my partner. It is more important to support my partner, provide a safe place, and time to heal. I had expected to (most likely) spend the evening alone, meditating, relaxing, and making myself emotionally ready for today; I have a medical procedure later. At one or two points I begin to tear up unexpectedly as we talk; although he is here with me, he’s not realistically available to provide the emotional support that I need myself, for tomorrow, and with regards to my health over time. Not right now. I breathe through those moments; I am loved. It isn’t personal. This too will pass. The moments I find myself feeling alone in spite of his presence won’t be what I remember about the day. 🙂

I really need to sleep. I’m still not quite awake. I feel groggy. A little dizzy. I am in more than usual pain, in part due simply to being tired.  I double check that I’ve set my ‘leave now’ alarm. I double check it a few more times. I’m having trouble holding on to the knowledge that the alarm is indeed set. Really. No… really. I check it again anyway, “just to be sure”. I consider taking the car, if my Traveling Partner is still here when the time comes to head to my appointment…faster. Less time spent away from work on a busy work day. It hits me that there was something specific I’d intended to work on… I struggle to remember what. I am eager to be finished with so many things… finished with medical diagnostic procedures, finished with house hunting (and the implied move on the other side of that process!), finished with taxes, finished with hiring a new analyst and completing a software implementation, finished big disrupting tasks and events, generally, and back to living gently, predictably, uneventfully, and comfortably day after day. Sleep. I’d like to get back to sleeping regularly… that I’d like to begin again. Soon.

Speaking of beginning again. I think I’ll go do that. Today is a good day for beginnings. 🙂

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Categories Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Love, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, The Big 5

More of the Same Difference

March 7, 2017 //
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I forgot to set my alarm last night. Another firm habit breaks unexpectedly, in this case, at least so far, mostly without consequence. I crashed hard last night, pretty early, and fell asleep without reading (and forgot to meditate). I woke thinking I would be able to go back to sleep. I’m glad I checked the time. The morning has that clumsy surreal feel of a day started slightly at an odd angle to the usual sort of morning. I feel groggy, awkward, and lacking coordination and sense of placement in physical space. I’m already on my second coffee, having done nothing much with the morning so far beside shower and dress… well… mostly dress. I remind myself to finish dressing – preferably before I try to leave for the office.

I run my fingers through tangled hair. I sip my coffee. I listen to the low moan of the early commuter train approaching the platform on the other side of the park. I sigh quietly in the stillness, and in the moment that I recognize how loud that sounds, I also hear the rain tapping the window of my studio, and the chime clanging away in the morning breeze. I take a moment to pause and simply be. I take a moment to let myself begin to really wake up. I poke around in my foggy consciousness, checking off a mental list of the morning “getting ready for work” tasks with care. I pull myself upright in my desk chair, committing to caring for my posture with more attention.

An unexpected yawn splits my face wide open, and just as I am about to laugh imagining that, pain stretches from just above and behind my ear, through the base of my skull and to my neck. Ouch. I gotta get back to the doctor on that one; it continues to worsen, and I am experienced at accommodating pain, and too inclined to overlook it.  I remind myself that my life – and my quality of life – matters.

This is a very human sort of morning. A good one for taking care of the woman in the mirror. A good one for taking time to appreciate how very human we each (all) are. My consciousness is still too tender to deal with the news, or the world, and I avert my eyes from social media; it is enough, for now, to deal with this moment right here. Perhaps later today I’ll get back to work on changing the world? 😉

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Categories Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, The Art of Being, Words
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