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Benchmarks and Milestones

April 28, 2024 //
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I’m paused on the trail. I arrived just as the park gates opened, put on my boots and got started down the trail moments after daybreak. The trail was still quite dim and I have it to myself, even now. I  set a good pace, and at my planned turnaround point (a riverfront viewpoint) I stopped to catch my breath and write. It’s a cool morning, but not so chilly that my fingers would struggle with my phone. I’m warmed through from the walk.

My night was wakeful and not especially restful after my Traveling Partner woke me up. I don’t remember why he woke me, only that it was difficult to get back to sleep, and my sleep was interrupted with wakeful moments and anxious dreams from then until morning. Less than ideal. He left me a sweet and kind apology note, which I saw when I woke. I’m okay. Not mad or cranky about it,  just not well-rested. Maybe a nap later…?

…There are nutria playing along the riverbank. I watch them awhile…

It’s a gray rainy looking morning. There’s laundry to do. Vacuuming. Salad greens in the garden are looking good, and I consider carefully harvesting enough of the more mature outer leaves for a salad for breakfast after I return home. It’s Sunday…

Today is a “benchmark day”. Time to take my next dose of Ozempic, do my weigh-in, and take a couple pictures of progress-to-date. This is my 4th shot. This is also the first time I’ve ever approached fitness and weight-loss from a perspective of actual eagerness and confidence, since I was  bodybuilding in the 80s. It helps to see the progress, and as with so many things, the progress is often only visible if I’m really looking for it. So, the meal tracking, weigh-ins, and weekly progress photos serve to help me see the reality of my subjective experience. I found myself actually excited to get to Sunday, my “benchmark day”, more and more as the week progressed, and here I finally am.

…I am curious about the outcome…

Life is full of benchmarks and milestones. Celebrating those, big and small, has real value, and amazing potential to lift us up – or “set us straight” about where we are on a given journey. I  sigh contentedly,  sitting in this place, listening to the birds, and the river as it flows by. It’s a beautiful morning and I made it to this goal, this lovely place to sit with my thoughts, in good time. That’s another piece of my fitness journey; overcoming my pain, and mobility issues, to “go further, faster”. I’m pleased to be back to being comfortable with 2.5 miles. I’m eager to reach 3… then 5… I’m counting on practice and incremental change over time. I know this works.

I’m grateful that I’m still walking.

A bit of daylight breaks through the clouds. It’s time to head back down the trail to other moments and beginnings…

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, turning 60, weight loss secrets

America Hates Women

April 26, 2024 //
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I’m sipping my coffee, and trying my best not to be bitter. Too much anti-woman garbage in the news, and it inevitably filters into my consciousness. I put on music to soothe my soul, and remind me that the path ahead is not reliably smooth or paved.

I don’t prefer to pour my anger onto the page, spilling like the blood I’ve already shed, wasted like the time it would take to try to argue the point that women are fully human, conscious, with agency and their own reasons to live beyond being brood mares or objects to be used for sexual fulfillment. Fucking hell, I hope you’re at least not surprised to learn that there are many decision-making individuals in the world who don’t see women as fully human conscious beings with rights and agency… because, yeah, that’s a fucking thing. Unfortunately. Second-class. An after-thought. Hell, there are people who disagree with women having the vote – or the right to withhold their consent. No shit. Wild, right? Disappointing, certainly – and yeah, I’m angry about it. Are you kidding me? Ohio just criminalized marital rape – it’s 2024 – until now, it’s been just fine to go ahead and rape your wife. Hell, if that’s too much work, go ahead and drug her, then rape her, totally legal. Gross. We can’t do better than this?

…A lifetime of seething impotent rage, just waiting for an opportunity. I’m an American woman…

I take a breath and a sip of my coffee. These aren’t abstract concerns for me; I’m a woman. Lacking the option to willfully choose not to bear children would have changed my life dramatically. My educational options would have been diminished (because that was a thing, and not so long ago). My career options, too, would have been very different, and very limited. My leisure hours could not have been spent on art – I’d have been forced to devote my time to child-rearing. That wasn’t the life I wanted, at all. Nothing about me is particularly “maternal” beyond having a vagina and a uterus, and by the time I reached adulthood, my chaos and damage were so profound that any child of mine was going to have a rough fucking go of it – it takes a long time for trauma to heal, even with persistent self-work. I knew when I was just 14 that I did not want children. That’s still true. (I am fond of my stepson; I met him shortly after he finished high school. He’s a good guy, doing his best, and he’s come so far since I first met him. I enjoy being a bystander on the relationship my Traveling Partner shares with his son – and that’s close enough to motherhood for me.)

I breathe, exhale, relax – and remind myself not to allow my anger to poison me. “The way out is through”, for sure, but no need to be ridiculous about it. Tantrums and lashing out don’t help anyone understand things more clearly, and don’t help me feel better. Hell, tantrums and lashing out don’t even give me momentary relief. You know what does? Knowing that my Traveling Partner, the person I go home to each day and wake with each morning, doesn’t hate me, doesn’t hate women, and understands us to be wholly human people. There’s comfort and healing in that. I’ve come a long way from that angry young woman who stood on the threshold of adulthood wanting vengeance.

I sip my coffee, and watch the dismal rainy gray dawn unfold on an America that hates women. You know who you are (although you’re probably not reading this). Do better, for fucks’ sake. There are little girls everywhere each trying to become the woman they most want to be – give them a fucking chance.

I sigh quietly. I’ve gotten caught up in a moment of pain. I breathe, exhale, relax, and let it go – again. I watch the little brown birds in the park, and the traffic making the trip around the block below, looking for parking. The rain falls softly. It’s an ordinary day, and there is no cure for pain – just a new moment, and a chance to begin again…

…Let it go…

…Begin again.

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, breathe, Despair, forgiveness, Free Will, grief, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Rape, Relationships, The Art of Being, War and News of War, women

Unlimited Freedom

April 25, 2024 //
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…Unlimited freedom… That sounds so good, right? And here in the United States of America, we have that… right? Nope. Not even close. Get over that shit sooner than later. LOL In the free-est country in the world, no one has “unlimited freedom”, ever, at all. It’s not a thing. We are each and all constrained by the limitations of the laws of our country, by the social contract we live under, by the rules and taboos of society, family, tribe, school, and workplace, and by the non-negotiable realities of, well, reality. lol There is no such thing as “unlimited freedom”. So. Yeah. Let that one go.

This lack of freedom from limitations on our freedom doesn’t have to be a colossal buzz kill, though… in the least free nation in the world, we’ve each still got some freedoms, and some freedom. Fewer than in the most free nation in the world, sure, but… the most important freedoms we each have can not easily be taken from us, as individuals, unless we choose to give them away.

I’m just saying… you can only drive as fast as the cars ahead of you and road conditions permit. You can only spend as much money as you have – or can borrow at a cost. You can only be as comfortable as the resources available to you permit. You can only be as well as your health and available medical care provide. You can only make choices based on the options you are aware of. There are limits. Constraints placed on all of us by reality itself. Those limitations on our freedom are non-negotiable. Fighting that by seeking “unlimited freedom” is … fairly silly. There are more productive uses of your time.

You are free to choose and free to act – and free to bear the consequences of your decisions and actions.

…Why am I even thinking about this? I don’t know. It’s just what happened to be stirred up in my thoughts this morning. I am sipping my coffee, pretending to be free of pain, watching the rain fall… and thinking about the rather ridiculous notion of “unlimited freedom”. We’ve each got “freedom up to a point” to work with, and it’s rather a lot (depending on geography and lines on a map) – but it’s for sure not “unlimited”.

I’m free to pretend to be free of pain… I’m fortunate to have prescription pain relief available, and it helps but doesn’t remove my pain entirely. So… How “free” am I? I mean… I have the freedom to choose whether to make my pain the center of my day. I have the freedom to choose what steps I take to manage my pain and to seek relief. The outcome isn’t so much in my hands; reality will have its say. Nonnegotiable. So. I’m in pain. It’s a rainy day and my arthritis is griefing me hardcore. It thoroughly sucks. But… I’m still free to choose not to make it the center of my day, to go on and do what I can with what I’ve got, and enjoy this moment, and the next, and maybe the entire day. That “freedom of choice” thing? That’s a big deal. It’s powerful. What we do with it has a lot to do with what our experience feels like – and how much “freedom” we feel we do have.

…Choose wisely…

I sit watching the rain fall. (I’m free to do so.) I sip my coffee. I think my thoughts. My mind wanders, I bring it back to the falling rain. I breathe, exhale, relax, and feel background stress I wasn’t fully aware of diminish. A new morning, new day, new beginning… and ahead of me so many small choices to make. There’s freedom in that. In both the new beginning, and in the choices – and there are so many opportunities to begin again, to choose well (or just choose, at all – I’m not telling you how to live your life). If we allow ourselves to tumble through circumstance without making willful considered choices… we’ve still chosen. It’s a wild ride.

What will you do with the time you have, and the freedom you’ve got? What does success look like to you? What options have you got to face what assortment of challenges on the path you’ve taken? Could you choose differently and get a different result? (tl;dr – yes.) Will you? Who even are you, when you are alone with yourself? Rhetorical but important questions… I think about them rather a lot.

How best to be the person I most want to be, living my best life as I understand that…? I sigh and finish my coffee. I guess a good first step is to begin again. 😀 I may not change the world… but I can change my experience. I’m free to do that.

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Spring, The Art of Being, weight loss secrets, Words

Pain and Planning

April 20, 2024 //
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I got a great walk this morning, watching the sun rise as I walked. My allergies, which typically flared up only rarely but seem more likely to be seasonal these days, were bothering me from the moment I woke. I’ve been dealing with them since, taking OTC remedies and walking back to the car with the pockets of my hoodie filled with used tissues. I’m also in a ferocious amount of pain this morning, and having already taken a prescription pain reliever, on top of the allergy meds, I feel stuffy and a bit stupid. Didn’t stop me from getting a walk in, but likely slowed me down a bit.

…It’s 4/20… Saturday. Once upon a time this “counter culture holiday” would have had great meaning for me, and my day would have been planned around it. Not so much these days, though my Traveling Partner made a point to wish me well with a holiday greeting and I returned the merry sentiment. My plans just aren’t built around this anymore, and cannabis is legal here and it’s use quite commonplace. So… yeah. Happy 4/20, though. 😀

My plans today are mostly to do with tidying up the deck and draining, cleaning, and refilling the hot tub, and I am hoping to do it all in spite of the pain I’m in… I hope I can. I’d really like to be using the hot tub.

…It’s sort of peculiar, I think, that I don’t easily account for pain in my planning. I would benefit from being more skillful about that. I’ve learned not to over-commit when I do plan tasks and projects, but I seriously underestimate the limitations pain may place on my abilities. This may be a product of routinely trivializing my pain, to attempt to prevent it from “getting the upper hand” or defining my experience. It’s a real limitation though, at its worst, and the result is that failing to account for it realistically sometimes fucks with my planning (or more specifically, my execution of said planning). I sit with my thoughts for a few minutes…

…fuck pain…

I sigh to myself. Drink some water. Look over my grocery list. I guess it’s already time to begin again…

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Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, health, Healthy Living, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Practices, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, weight loss secrets

Reminders

April 19, 2024 //
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This morning as I drove in to work, I found myself behind the #17 bus as I entered the city. It sparked memories of commuting on that bus line for so many years. Recollections of an altogether different life. A moment of nostalgia swept over me… then I began to recall what those years were really like. I stopped feeling that soft fond sense of “a simpler time” – because it was not simpler, at all, and it was complicated, messy, and deeply unhappy rather often. It was a time of struggle, and of limited resources, and sometimes even of hopelessness and a sense of futility. I’m quite glad those years are behind me now.

I arrived at the office and got the day started. It’s a payday, and I took time to look at the budget and communicate numbers to my Traveling Partner and to get his thoughts.

I remembered an unfinished task from yesterday; it’s time to renew my “special access pass” with the State Park system (a really wonderful benefit for disabled veterans). As I moved through the new online workflow last night, I hit a requirement to provide an updated benefit letter from the VA and this stalled me doing the renewal easily from my phone, so I put it off for today. It was much easier on a browser from my laptop. Then I actually looked at the letter. How the fuck is this thing still using my previous married name from my first marriage?? Gross. I don’t use that name. I don’t like that name. That name holds reminders of a terrifying dark time in my life that I really don’t care to revisit if I don’t have to. 😦 My skin crawls with revulsion and loathing and residual fear just reading the name. I sigh out loud. Stand up and stretch. Work to explicitly let the moment go, within myself. My defenses are all up and I’m suddenly incredibly tense and wary. What a bunch of bullshit. Fuck that guy. Fuck that life. Fuck that name. I survived, and I’m here now, and this is not then.

…I take a moment to breathe, exhale, relax, and let it go…

…I look out the big office windows onto a city that never knew me then, on a beautiful Spring morning as the sun rises…

Crazy how long the damage can last, how long trauma can linger…

…I sip my coffee and begin again.

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, grief, Mindfulness, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Spring, The Art of Being
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