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Finding Encouragement in the Mirror

April 16, 2024 //
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This morning I woke feeling kind of down. I had replaced the batteries in the bathroom scale last night, and did an honest weigh-in to get a clear understanding of the journey ahead. That number was bigger than I expected it to be. Bigger than I thought it was. Bigger than my most comfortable self-deception suggested it would be. I woke up feeling a bit depressed about it.

I drove into the office thinking about my weight. The journey ahead. My desire to live a long healthy life enjoying the companionship of my Traveling Partner for many years to come. The clock is ticking. The challenges with my health, my weight, my fitness, and my emotional wellness; they’re all tied up in knots with each other. I’m sipping my (black) coffee, thinking about the mental math I did on the commute, trying to figure out realistically how many pounds I want to lose to get to properly healthy place… and how long that may take, trying to stay very honest and real with myself, no games, no bullshit, uncompromisingly honest with the woman in the mirror. Harsh. With no missteps, no failures of will, no injuries that limit my ability to exercise… I’m still looking at (at best) a 2-year journey, and a lifelong commitment to change. Fuck that sounds like… a lot. 😦

…How do I get from here to there, and do it without being a complete jerk to myself? What tools are in my toolkit, and can I use them more skillfully than I have? I know I can rely on my Traveling Partner to be kind, supportive, encouraging, and to hold me accountable in an honest and compassionate way… I feel less sure of being able to provide that to myself. I know from experience that treating myself poorly leads to problematic outcomes, and generally limits my success. It’s just not the best approach. So… now what? How do I avoid the slide into despair over this mess? I feel like self-sabotage is around every corner…

I think about my mother’s challenges with her weight. I think about my Granny’s challenges with hers. I think about my recently deceased dear friend’s challenges with her weight. It’s not easy. It’s likely that each one of these women lived shorter lives than they otherwise might have, had they been more successful at managing their weight and maintaining their fitness. There are lessons here. Lived examples. Things to think about. I sigh out loud and sip my coffee; all the powerful examples in the world do nothing whatsoever to create change. There are verbs involved and no fucking shortcuts result in long-term change. It’s necessary to commit to action… then act. Do the fucking verbs.

I remind myself that it’s hard to go from Detroit to San Francisco if I’m standing in Baltimore. Having an honest awareness of the number on the scale now is useful perspective. I make a point to share it with my Traveling Partner, and with my physician. It hurts to own up to it, but… this is where progress begins. I can’t start in a place where I’m not standing. It’s not as if it isn’t obvious that I’m well-over a healthy weight for my age, height, and body type, just at a glance. It’s not as if I weren’t aware of how difficult it can be to keep moving and to eat healthy – and I can’t claim I didn’t know how important these details are. So. Here I am. Ready for a next step. Ready for a new journey. Ready to make real progress.

…Ready to begin again…

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Spring, weight loss secrets, women

Keeping It Real

April 14, 2024 //
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I woke with allergy symptoms this morning. Sinus headache,  stuffy nose, that sort of thing. I think I almost managed to leave the house for my walk without waking my Traveling Partner… then realized I left my purse in another room and had to trek back down the hallway, past the bedroom door. Did that wake him? I tried to be quite quiet…

…Then, as I was putting on my shoes to leave, I knocked over my cane which hit the floor with a loud “bang!”. Why the hell had I left it there?? Super annoying. I sat still,  listening… did I end up waking my partner after all? No obvious way to tell. I head out.

Weird morning. Traffic was surprisingly heavy for Sunday before dawn. It was fine though and the drive was routine. I even remembered to get gas before I left town (good thing I did, gas tank was almost empty).

So… a new day begins.

A rather gray sunrise.

Daybreak came and went. Sunrise, too. It’s a gray morning and looks like rain, maybe. I head down the trail lost in my thoughts, just walking and thinking and doing my best impression of not being in pain. It’s not a great day as far as this physical experience goes. I’ve already taken an Rx pain reliever, and OTC allergy medication, on top of my regular medications. Fucking hell, aging sucks sometimes.

Yesterday I planted the rose “Bolero“. I think I’ve probably planted as many roses as my garden can hold, now, and this one is a fitting final addition to a garden themed on love and memory. Last year (has it already been so long?) I had an interesting experience with my Traveling Partner and the piece of music “Bolero“, which now holds a deeply sentimental place in my heart. I walked enjoying the recollection and a feeling of deep and enduring love and connection for a moment. I listened to the birds and smelled the fresh Spring air,  scented with flowers.

I’ve stopped for a few minutes along the trail. I have it to myself again this morning, which is lovely. I take time to meditate, then to write. I look at the sky overhead. Definitely stormy. I remember the unfinished laundry, before my mind wanders to the very good dinner I cooked last night. My thoughts skip around like the little brown bird near my feet, as I sit on this bench catching my breath and enjoy the moment.

Today will be my second shot of the Ozempic. No idea yet if it’s “working”, at least not based on test results or some clinical evaluation. Anecdotally,  based on my subjective experience, I seem to be getting some benefit from it, and some of the changes are subtle and difficult to describe. It’ll be interesting to see lab results for things like my A1c, and my blood pressure over time. I don’t yet have words for some of the subtle changes to my thinking or emotional experience but those exist, too. Weight loss? I expect to see some results,  but I am not “chasing” that outcome with my whole attention in an unhealthy way. I am more focused on my overall wellness, on eating nutritious, calorie-appropriate meals and getting enough exercise to make gains in fitness. This seems like a better approach for me than spending my time focused on numbers on a scale. (I am way more interested in how my clothes fit and the eager look in my Traveling Partner’s eyes.) So far, no obvious undesirable side effects.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. Beautiful morning, in spite of pain and allergies. I glance back down the trail the way I came. Another hiker approaches in the distance; my reminder that this lovely place is not my own. It’s time to wrap this up and begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Roses, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, Uncategorized, weight loss secrets

Walking the Talk

April 9, 2024 //
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It’s just now daybreak. I’ve got my boots on, and I’m at the trailhead for this morning’s walk. I try to put a couple miles on these boots every day. It’s not everything I need to do to get (or stay) fit, but it’s more than nothing.

I’m thinking about success and failure and the effort involved either way. I’m thinking about the difference between “saying” and “doing” – it’s an important difference. It’s pretty easy to find some measure of success and then, slowly, over time, begin to fail oneself ever so quietly while still rather loudly proclaiming the value of prior successes. It’s very human. The proof is in the results, though. Sometimes it’s necessary to begin again, because I have somehow stopped doing a verb. It’s not on my mind for any particular reason, aside from gratitude that I’ve kept at it with the walking and I’m still on my feet and able to.

Have you given up on some effective practice, maybe without really noticing, or in spite of continuing to talk about how well it works for you? Do you miss it? Will you begin again?

I breathe in the mild Spring morning air. It’s scented with flowers. The trees are in bloom all around. Storm clouds are bunched up overhead, looking a bit like a quilted comforter that has been improperly dried, and left lumpy. The idea of “lumpy clouds” makes me giggle out loud.

I’m in less pain than yesterday and in a much nicer mood so far this morning. I’ve got a bit of a headache and it’s the one I most closely associate with my neck pain, but my arthritis isn’t so bad this morning,  and the bone graft site on my left hip isn’t aching ferociously the way it was yesterday. I am so grateful just to hurt less this morning. The walk can become real drudgery when I am in a lot of pain. I generally still do the walk, but it’s certainly less pleasant when my pain is unmanaged.

…soon…

The sky is light enough to walk the trail now. It’s a lovely mild morning for it. I stretch and yawn, grateful for the moment, the opportunity, and the ability. I grab my cane from the passenger seat of the car and begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, meditation, Metaphors, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Practices, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being

Well, Shit

April 8, 2024 //
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I woke groggy and in pain, this morning. Massive headache. Sinus congestion (and assorted other allergy symptoms). Tendonitis in my right knee. Osteo-arthritis pain in my spine. Traveling Partner’s bad mood ringing in my ears, first thing. Fucking hell – what a way to start a new work week, and first day back to the office after a couple very relaxing days away from “everything”. After an hour of snarling to myself discontentedly all the way to the city, I sat down to assess the work that landed on my plate while I was out of the office. My coffee is already gone. My headache most definitely is not.

…Pain sucks…

This morning is every bit as just frankly terrible as the weekend was delightful. Maybe there’s a real relationship between those things, but more likely it’s just a random correlation in the timing, with no meaning outside whatever meaning I choose to force into it. I start working on letting all that shit go. All of it. I start by replying to my Traveling Partner’s messages, catching up on email and taking something for my pain. I make another cup of coffee. I wade through 2 days of Slack pings and bookmark a handful for later action. I make notes about what has to get done today, and what needs my attention this week. I make reminders for myself to tackle some tasks my Traveling Partner asked me to handle for him, today.

…Fuck this headache, though…

I’m starting the day feeling distracted and annoyed. It’s less than ideal, and I would very much like to just have a fucking tantrum, cry, and maybe break some shit… but… that’s literally not who I am, or how I prefer to handle my emotions. It’s just a feeling I’m feeling, right now, and it’ll pass. I take a breathe, and a sip of coffee. My eye lands on my calendar, and I realize I’m “ahead of things”, based on the timing I had allotted to do the basic catching up, this morning. That’s a nice – if small – win. I adjust my calendar details for accuracy (it’s just a thing I do), and I don’t put anything into the time I “got back in my day” based on that change – I’ll just go with it. Feels good. Small wins are still wins, and I pause to enjoy that feeling.

I started the Ozempic yesterday. All the anxiety and rethinking and caution and concern… over… what, exactly? It wasn’t at all difficult to give myself the shot. I haven’t had any kind of side effects (yet). “Nothing to see here.” It still has the power to astonish me how often we create our drama and sorrow out of thin air, or allow ourselves to become freaked out over some momentary bullshit that literally does not actually matter in any substantial way. We’re strange creatures. I breathe, exhale, and relax, feeling the pain in my body and trying to let even that just go. My results vary, but making the attempt feels worthwhile, and at least somewhat effective… maybe?

I sit with my irritable mood and my coffee, managing to be annoyed that I “missed the sunrise”, being distracted by work things as soon as I arrived in the office. It’s not worth being annoyed about, but I prefer it over being annoyed with my Traveling Partner, who managed to genuinely vex me this morning, just being human himself. Working toward also letting that go, I find myself annoyed by other things too small to actually care about, which is… fucking stupid, but very human. I quietly remind myself not to let the moment color the day, which seems practical and wise – I hope I can take my own advice. lol

I continue to drink my coffee, plan my day, and fuss to myself quietly over the amount of pain I am in this morning. I’m unlikely to bitch about it openly in my interactions with other people – which serves to remind me how little we can know about what someone else is actually going through. The result is that I find myself looking at my Traveling Partner’s early morning shitty mood with fond compassion and empathy, instead of just being irritated with him for being irritable, himself. No, I didn’t need that shit this morning, at all, but it’s not as if he’s dishing that shit out “on purpose” with an intention of causing me to also have a shitty morning; he’s having his own experience. I feel for him. He woke too early, when I got up to pee in the wee hours, and couldn’t get back to sleep. That sucks. I get being irritable as a result. I sigh to myself, and drink more coffee. My ears are ringing and my head hurts, but it’s not a reason to be a dick to people. I can do better… I just need more practice.

I finish my coffee, and open up my checklist of shit to get done today… it’s time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, Spring, The Art of Being, The Big 5, weight loss secrets

Waiting Time

April 4, 2024 //
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I’m waiting. It’s quite early, before daybreak. I’m parked at a local trail near home. I’m waiting for enough daylight to walk. I’m waiting for the grocery store to open. I’m waiting for my Traveling Partner to wake and start his day. I’m waiting to begin my long weekend and short trip to the coast. It’s not a bad time for waiting. The world seems quiet and peaceful, and although that’s an illusion (the “peaceful” bit is very local), it’s a pleasant moment with which to begin the day.

My head aches ferociously. My neck, too, aches horribly. It’s more likely than not a byproduct of yesterday’s physical therapy, which isn’t unusual but is usually less intense. Progress? Hell, I don’t know.

Subjectively, I feel as if my range of motion is improving. The symptoms of occipital neuralgia seem reduced in frequency and intensity. Those are promising changes, but g’damn the pain persists, it’s just located differently. lol Learning to deal with pain emotionally has been as important as anything I’ve done to attempt to reduce it. I fully expect pain to continue to be a thing that is part of my day-to-day experience, and it’s no good letting it call the shots (anytime I have a choice to do otherwise). My results vary.

The ringing in my ears is… loud. I’m looking forward to being by the ocean. The sound of ocean waves and seaside breezes is one of the very few things that drowns out my tinnitus almost entirely. It’s a delightful break from the maddening din that no one else hears. For a couple days it’ll be rather as if there’s no tinnitus at all. This experience is one of the reasons I go to the coast when I need some time to myself, the chance to escape the noise of my tinnitus for a short time. Another is the feeling that being oceanside connects me more closely to my Granny and my recently departed dear friend,  both of whom felt a strong connection to the sea.

It won’t be long now until mountain and forest places are warm enough for camping and hiking, too. I enjoy the forest most of all,  myself, and that’s a lifelong love. I enjoy the seaside places. I enjoy the broad plains and vast expanses of high desert skies. I love the forest. My reluctance to camp in early Spring is to do with physical comfort, only. My arthritis makes sleeping on the ground in chilly weather uncomfortable, and the more frequent Spring rains make hiking muddy and more treacherous, so I just don’t. Choices.

…I sit quietly for some moments, feeling grateful to have the luxury and privilege of choices…

Daybreak comes. The morning sky stays pretty dark, and streaks of blue hint at daylight to come, through stormy clouds. It’s not raining though, and it looks like a good morning for a walk. I remind myself to check my paint box for blues and grays and colors I might use for stormy skies…

Soon there will be enough light to walk the trail. I grab my boots to make the change from sneakers, and get ready to head down the trail. It’s already time to begin again.

Walking my own path, I start where I am.
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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being
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