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Staying Within a Budget

April 23, 2022 //
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I’m drinking water. It’s a sunny Saturday in April. The weather is mild and well-suited to getting outside into the garden. At least at the moment, I’m not “there”.

I’m fighting off a UTI, and I’ve been very fatigued recently, though I feel decently well-rested today (and since the antibiotics started doing their thing on this infection). I made a delicious scramble for my Traveling Partner and I to start the day on (he’s working, I’m… doing things that definitely require effort, but don’t “seem like work“). This antibiotic is best taken on a full stomach, so breakfast definitely made sense.

…After breakfast, I cleaned up the kitchen and did the dishes…

…I broke down a bunch of cardboard and took it out to the recycling bin…

…then started laundry (towels mostly)…

…then I made the trek down to the city to pick up a snap-together little garden shed to put all my gardening gear in, to get those items out of the shop space that my Traveling Partner needs for other things…

…then I came home (very cramped drive back, since that shed, even in pieces and boxed, barely fit in my car at all) dropped the shed off at the house, and headed out for some quick grocery shopping, and to return an item that didn’t suit the purpose for which it was purchased. Thankfully both tasks could be done at the same retail location.

By the time I got home again, it was lunch time – so I brought lunch home with me and sat down for a few minutes with my partner over a bite to eat between tasks in the shop. He’s got multiple projects in progress. I do my best to be helpful and supportive where I can.

…After lunch, I put the little shed together. Once completed, I asked my Traveling Partner if he’d like to help me decide specifically where to place it – he must have misunderstood my question; he came right out and put it where he wanted it. I’m cool with that; it isn’t heavy, this shed, but it is awkward, and it’s nice to have help. (I could have moved it into position, I’d just forgotten where we had talked about putting it.)

…Then I broke down the surprisingly large quantity of cardboard that the shed arrived in, and stuffed it into the back of my car for a trip to the disposal place next week; it’s too much to fit in the bin here at the house.

…Then I realized I was already feeling fatigued, and it’s not even 2:00 pm (at the time I noticed my fatigue, that is)… so… I sat down, here, with this glass of water for a few minutes of restful self-care. There’s still so much to do…

I had thought I’d spend the day weeding the garden and maybe painting… the decision to go get that little garden shed sort of threw that plan out, in that instant of spontaneous decision-making, and the discovery that there was exceedingly limited local availability of these specifically sized small sheds. I still feel the motivation… but for the moment I am wiped out. I need to give myself a proper break.

…Then…maybe…I’ll get a short walk in, out in the sunshine, around the neighborhood, checking out the progress of Spring in everyone’s flowerbeds along the way, and pick up the mail on the way back… I definitely want to do that; I’ve got new seeds waiting in the mailbox. They won’t do me any good there.

Soon the towels will be dry, and they’ll need to be folded and put away. There’s still plenty of weeding to do in the front flower beds… and my clean laundry (from days ago) has yet to be folded. “Fuck how am I already this tired?” I think to myself, drinking my glass of cool water. I know the answer; resources are finite. That’s it. That’s the whole truth of it. Whether we’re talking about acreage, or fresh water, or cash money, or our actual living life force expressed as our capacity to do work… it’s all dreadfully finite. It’s important to “stay within our budget”, but it’s not always entirely obvious that there is one…

…I felt so incredibly free and energetic – boundless energy and sheer force of will, on demand, at any hour, any day (pretty much) when I was younger. I’m thinking teens and 20s, when I make this observation. That kind of seemingly unlimited individual energy probably wasn’t as unlimited as it seems looking back on it. I do miss having just a bit more to draw upon, when fatigue seems to set in well-before I’ve checked off my to-do list, and before the afternoon can become an evening. Sometimes, a break to rest, to drink water, to sit for a moment with my thoughts, is enough to recharge for the next little while, and I get a few more things done. Yesterday, I even managed to push past my fatigue to prepare an excellent evening meal that we both enjoyed immensely… I wasn’t good for much after that. LOL I had “used up all my spoons”. I went to bed early(ish).

Today I tried to budget my energy – and my time – a bit more wisely. I don’t know that I succeeded at all… but if I stopped right now and did not one fucking thing more, I’d be pretty okay with that… but oh! there is so much more I do want to do today…

…It’s time to begin again…

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Parables, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Spring, The Art of Being

Ends, Beginnings, Pain, Love

April 7, 2022 //
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It’s evening. A bit after 6 p.m., not late. I had a third coffee… and had it in the afternoon. Needed a bit of a pick-me-up when I started running out of steam. Will it keep me up? No idea, but I’m rather inclined to think not; I still feel a bit… done. lol Not in a bad way, just fatigued. Sore muscles (physical therapy seems to be helping with my overall fitness quite a lot, and in any regard in which my relative lack of fitness was contributing to my pain, that has improved). I don’t mind sore muscles; steps toward a goal. Damn, though – tired and sore muscles? I left work a bit early. I’ve got tomorrow off and plans to see a friend. Feels good to make occasional plans that involve actual other humans. lol Yeah, I said it. 🙂

I got home to find my Traveling Partner at work on a variety of Spring-cleaning-themed tasks: cleaning and refilling the hot tub, & general tidying. After I got home, even going that extra step to finish up what he had started out on the deck, doing things like cleaning the grill, and the fire pit, and re-hanging the shade “sails”. I enjoyed hanging out on the deck with him. Occasionally lending a hand when asked, but mostly “staying out of the way” and relaxing with my afternoon coffee. It was fun. I’m still smiling.

Spring is already trying to become summer. lol

I stopped by a local nursery and picked up some kitchen herbs to add to the front garden. Nice splashes of green foliage with real usefulness. I looked over the blueberries there, but they weren’t great looking, and I did not splurge on them just because they were there. That doesn’t really work for me – and they would not have been varieties I really want for the location I have in mind. It can wait.

Dave Matthews is still singing love songs in the background. It’s music I definitely associate with this love of ours. We’ll be 11 years married, this year, and 12 years as lovers. I enjoy our enduring love. I smile fondly when I think of him in his shop, preparing for tomorrow’s work day. I sat down here thinking I’d play Minecraft… ending up writing, reflecting contentedly on a day well-spent, and looking ahead toward the days to come. Long weekend. I’d like to spend some notable portion in the garden. I’ve also got an errand to run. Routine weekend in most regards, simply pleasantly long, and suited to sleeping in and loving. Maybe a hike? Some time in the studio? Honestly, it’s enough to rest, and be.

I’ll definitely be glad when my muscles aren’t so sore; I’ll get right back to making them sore, again. That’s kinda the way it works to get from not-all-that-fit back to “fit”. I’m not even complaining. I’m not injured, it’s just sore muscle pain. It tells me where my muscles lack symmetry. It tells me where I’m a bit weaker and could use more work, done with care. It reminds me to keep at it; we become what we practice. If I want to regain my fitness, strength, and endurance, there are definitely going to be a lot of verbs and practicing to get there, and quite a few days with sore muscles.

It sounds like the dryer is finished… there’s a bed to remake before fatigue becomes exhaustion, and before evening turns to night. There’s a new beginning ahead. There are endings behind me. The love that has infused this day matters so much more than this little bit of muscle pain. 🙂

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Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, Spring, The Art of Being, weight loss secrets

Do Something

April 3, 2022 //
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I slept decently well last night. I woke rested and less uncomfortable than I was yesterday. My head is a bit stuffy, and I find myself wondering if it is seasonal allergies or if I was (already) exposed (again) to some random rhino virus. Doesn’t matter; today starts better than yesterday did. It’s enough for beginning again.

I sip my coffee and look over my garden plan. I think about sowing flower seeds in the front beds, and putting down some fresh growing medium. My Traveling Partner noted recently that the irrigation timer we’d been relying on failed during a hard freeze; likely left with some amount of water in it, and it broke on the inside. Annoying. I didn’t find a suitable replacement for it at the local big box home improvement store. This morning he alerts me that the replacement he ordered online will be here, maybe, today. Handy! It’s already time to get the grow bags on a watering schedule; it has stopped raining every day. A for sure sign of Spring in progress here.

I entertain myself with gardening videos, and catch a glimpse of a loaf pan on a counter top in the background of a video. The narrator says something about summer fruit and quick breads… well, shit. I’ve got ingredients for quick breads… and dried blueberries, raisins, and currents, and plenty of walnuts… why not? “New beginnings” are pretty opened ended, with me. Gardening is in my plan for the day, but I’d like to wait for the chill of the morning to become the midday mild temperatures. There’s housekeeping and chores in my plan for the day, but I’d like to go easy on myself after yesterday. A lovely quick bread with our second coffee would be quite nice…

I look over my recipes with a smile and a happy heart. Definitely time to begin again. I’ve got options, and choices, and the verbs are mine to put into action. I’ve just, rather literally, got to do something. 😀

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Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Practices, Spring, The Art of Being

Like Sisyphus, But With Pain

April 2, 2022 //
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I am in an unreasonable amount of pain today. I can’t argue with the experience; it’s the one I’m having. Physical therapy-recommended exercises often help. Not so much today. Staying active, or distracting myself, works a lot of the time to reduce my subjective experience of being in pain. Today the pain just seems to color every experience. Sometimes medication dulls the pain. I guess I’m grateful that it probably did do that, today, although I’m not sure I feel that…I’m fairly sure it could be worse. My Traveling Partner has his own experience – both with his own pain, and of course having to exist alongside mine. That’s got to suck.

Meditation could help… sometimes it helps a lot. Today it’s just another box I ticked on the “list of things to do about pain”. Down the list I went. Some things helped somewhat. I’m doing my best to be okay with that and not lash out at “the world” over the pain I am in. There’s no “fault” in this here-and-now experience of pain. It is what it is. Uncomfortable. Limiting.

My world shrinks when I am in this much pain… so… I spent a portion of the evening in an altogether different world, in Minecraft. My world. My way. My peculiar blocky homes and wanders, walkways and walls, tunnels and staircases… for a couple hours I am elsewhere. Oh, sure, I still hurt… but, I’m not focused on that; I’ve got a glass tower to build, or a pyramid, or a terra cotta tile floor to lay, or…

…There are verbs involved. Doing the verbs does not guarantee a particular outcome, or offer any assurance of success – it’s just that not doing them definitely limits the chances of getting that outcome or success, at all. So… verb verb verb verb. Even in Minecraft.

I just keep at it. One moment, one day at a time. This happens to be the struggle I’ve got. It’s maybe not that big a deal for someone else… they’ve got their own struggles. Maybe pain isn’t one of those. Maybe it is. We’re each having our own experience. Each walking our own path. What’s odd, I think, and also kind of … hopeful? Is that we’re also each sharing some basics of lived human experience that can allow us to look upon one another with compassion, empathy, and fond regard – if we let ourselves. We “get it” – maybe we’ve “been there”, or just understand through similarity. Handy. Sometimes it’s hard being human… feeling lonely on top of that just suuuuuuuuuuuucks. Let’s not do that. Share. Listen. Be open to “being there” for someone else. Be there for yourself, too. (Definitely be there for yourself!)

I’m sort of “over” Minecraft for the moment. I still hurt. Pain is distracting me and preventing me from becoming sleepy, which definitely sucks. I feel a yawn come over me… can I sleep? Will I at least rest?

Fuck pain. I mean… just… yeah. I’m not enjoying this experience of today, though I really wanted to. I’ll just have to begin again. Maybe less pain tomorrow?

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Frustration, gratitude, health, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Sleepless Nights, Spring, The Art of Being

How Many Minutes Does It Take To Be Happy?

March 15, 2022 //
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It’s a dumb question, isn’t it? It’s probably clear that this is not “how happiness works”. There’s no minimum investment in time required, there’s no proper single process with a reliable outcome. There is this “now”, these fleeting minutes of time, and an assortment of practices to choose from.

…It’s been more than a month, I think, since I last wrote anything here. Aside from a couple of note cards sent to family or friends recently, I haven’t written at all. I’ve overlooked personal correspondence to friends pretty much completely. Every minute of chat or idle conversation with anyone who isn’t my partner feels sort of stolen from the limited time we share with each other (even though we’re together very nearly 24/7)… or from time I’m paid to spend on work. 40 hours of life gone, right off the top. Those are not my minutes.

…Some days it feels like literally everyone wants a fucking piece of me, and nothing much is left over. I already know this is, in part, self-imposed and perhaps also a bit of an illusion caused by the additional emotional pressure and background stress caused (for me) by simmering threat of global conflict. The cold war no longer feels like the distant past, for sure. Subjectively, I feel like I “can’t get a break”. The only activity that seems to sooth that stress is meditation, or… just sitting still, alone, quiet. There are so few minutes to spare for that… because there is all this other shit to do: housekeeping, grocery shopping, budget keeping, errand running, meetings at work, don’t forget to make that call, appointments to make, to keep, to get to, fuck – aquarium maintenance! There doesn’t really seem to be an end; it’s life. The minutes – and the tasks – just keep coming. (Sit still for a minute and sooner or later someone will come along with something that needs to be done “since you’re not doing anything”.) Even hitting that “pause button” for a few minutes of meditation barely takes the edge off, at this point. It’s not a good place to be.

Today, in the middle of an ordinary work day, tears started falling. Just… yeah. The HRT? Maybe the anxiety? Did I take my allergy meds? Did I overlook my vitamin D? Have I had enough water to drink? Am I being sufficiently kind to myself? Is “all this” really worth all the stress and feeling of pressure? Am I doing it to myself 100%? Is there a way to get off this fucking treadmill???

I set a timer. 15 minutes. I am sitting with my thoughts and a few minutes to write, and reflect. I figure I deserve that from me. Me first, for just a fucking minute or two.

Chat…text…email…phone…Zoom… ping! ping! ping! ping! …Don’t let it distract me from that one thing I’m trying my damnedest to focus on…

“Fuck, I’m tired.” Sure, maybe. I think so… but it’s not really that, is it? If not that, then what? I’ve got that weird jones to “just walk away from everything, completely”. That, my friends, is not a “mood” or a legitimate sense of initiative unfulfilled. Nope. It’s a symptom of mental illness. I’m on the edge of too much and feeling the imminent threat over being entirely overwhelmed. Yes, better self-care is absolutely required, potentially urgently. I feel grateful that I’ve got an appointment with my therapist tomorrow, and a loving partner to go home to at the end of my day. I miss hanging out with friends. I miss being easily able to “keep track” of all the details of what is right in front of me day-to-day. I miss “easy”. When was that…? Ever?

Sometimes adulting is hard.

“Ding!” goes the timer. Back on the treadmill… I check my calendar, check my hair, click the Zoom link and smile for the camera.

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Frustration, grief, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Sleepless Nights, Spring, War and News of War
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