Archives for category: Relationships

I sip my coffee wondering why it tastes crappy this morning, and smile at the recollection of the numerous friends who would likely point out that it could be simply that it is coffee. Having a… “fondness” for (addiction to?) coffee isn’t something everyone has, wants, or seeks out. Coffee, sometimes, tastes like some rare combination of cardboard and tobacco tea. lol It’s not always flavorful and delicious, especially preferring it, generally, black. This morning, this cup of coffee tastes a bit like… coffee filter paper that’s had one cup of coffee run through it, the grounds dumped out, and then refilled with crushed dandelion stems, and some sort of bitter tea has resulted from this process. Only… I don’t really taste “bitter” in any clear way, so… just… not good. lol

…I could set it aside and not drink it, I mean, if I weren’t concerned about the headache that would come later today… or… yeah. Okay. I know, I know. It doesn’t make any sense. Why would I continue?? This is addiction. It’s how it works. I take another sip of my coffee…

…I drink rather a lot of coffee, and sit with that for a few minutes, just thinking about that, and taking stock of how skillfully I am/am not managing that addiction? (Addiction is what this is. The legality is not relevant to the chemistry.) My consumption over the past year has crept up to a very steady “3 coffees”…but… it had reached a point at which those “3 coffees” were all quad shot beverages. lol Oops. That’s a bit much, and even with ensuring my consumption is all in the morning (unless willfully and explicitly to support a late night), it is enough to interfere with good sleep. I’ve already cut way back to just “3 coffees”, meaning, just three actual coffee beverages (and if any one of those is an espresso drink, it only has a double shot in it). My coffee habit, over the years, has required some vigilance. Every now and then, it’s important to notice “how bad it has gotten” and take a step back, adjust, and put myself back on track with what I am really comfortable with. I recall one point in my 20s when I literally (no kidding) walked around more or less always with a coffee cup in my hand, and drank generally nothing else.

This particular cup of coffee is actually really quite remarkably bad. Wow. If they were all likeΒ this, I probably would not drink coffee at all.

I let my mind wander to other things. My Traveling Partner somewhere out in the world… The day ahead… Car shopping… The heat of summer… I sip my coffee and enjoy the quiet morning. It hasn’t mattered whether the coffee actually tastes good, not for a really long time. Not really. Sure, the coffee thing is what it is, and what it is, is that I’m addicted to coffee. I’m even okay with that. It’s a moment. A ritual. A part of a stabilizing morning routine that begins my day slowly, encouraging me to take the time to really wake up (and helps a bit with that), before I face the world.

…It does need some awareness and management, that’s just real.

My aching back is back to being more about my arthritis than injury or muscle soreness. Pain sucks, regardless, and I welcome any lessening or reduction in it. I enjoy the moment of “feeling better” without pointing my consciousness back to the pain itself. I find that focusing on the pain, and becoming invested in the emotional experience of the pain, in the moment, tends to amplify it, and I really don’t want to add that to my day. I breathe, relax, and let the awareness of pain, generally, fade into the background. I won’t lie; it’s not a perfect solution. I still hurt. I’m just not letting pain pwn my day. πŸ™‚

I finish my coffee and look at the clock. The world goes on being the world. People are still people. Buses are still running. Commuters are still rushing across town. Work is still something that occupies far too much of the time of far too many people. Too many other people don’t have enough work to support their quality of life needs (because, keeping it real, too many jobs don’t pay a living wage at all). There is still a need for balance. There is still a search for it. Life is a process, and a verb. Active. Changing. Real. Filled with choices.

There is time to begin again. There is time to become the person I most want to be. There is time to change the world. There are verbs involved. Ready? It’s time.

Whatever it is, this, too, will also pass. Good or bad. Fortune, or misfortune. Enjoyable. Regrettable. Memorable. Forgettable. The clock ticks. The wheel turns. Time and moments pass.

It’s been a bit more than a year here in this duplex. A bit more than a year living quite a bit of distance from my Traveling Partner. A bit more than a year driving his car, because he observed I needed it a bit more than he did at that time, and didn’t yet have my own. It’s been helpful having it, for sure. It’s been evident, over the year, that I need a car, myself, more than I realized. I’ll shop around a bit and take care of that soon. No rush. I’m pretty self-sufficient on public transit, and the bit more walking and exercise that takes will be good for me right now. πŸ™‚ It was an important eye-opener to recognize that the driving commute was robbing me of some much-needed exercise that a walking (or part riding, part walking) commute provided, and how important that really is.

Today I return to the part riding, part walking commute I had planned to make part of my daily routine when I first moved in here, before I had the car to rely on. Hell, I may stick with that even after I buy a car. I’m not expecting it to be a hardship, just time-consuming, and with music, books, and my camera along for the journey each day, it’s not even likely to be “wasted time”. πŸ™‚ I’ve “been here” before. The wheel keeps turning.

I’m grimly amused that my back hurts so fiercely this morning. It’s not my arthritis. Feels like I “slept on it wrong” and now have the back equivalent of a kink in my neck, as though my ribs were weirdly cramped together on one side for too long, and now hurt peculiarly in one spot, on the opposite side from which I usually feel most of my pain. Fucking craptacular meat sack – always breaking down or going wrong in some fashion. Being human can be so messy, and uncomfortable. Of course it would be the case today, in advance of a change in routine that requires more exertion, that I’ll also be more uncomfortable. So human. No doubt it’ll ease over time. I breathe, relax, and get a second coffee.

…No coffee along my commute route, now… Well. Shit. That’s a change…

I check the weather with more care than usual; it’ll matter what the weather is later in the day, and will be too late to second guess what I will need to have along in my day back by then. Sunscreen gets added to my day pack. The forecast says sunny, and peak heat at 90 degrees. I add a bottle of water, too. I set my cane by the door; I’m jumping right into a bit more walking than I’ve grown used to, and it will serve me well to be prepared for that to fatigue my ankle. No sandals today; hiking boots instead. Sure, circumstances change, and the wheel keeps turning, there’s nothing about that which suggests I must also be taken by surprise, or wholly unprepared for what life may drop in my path. πŸ™‚ Planning is a thing I can do. (You too, if you choose to.)

Well, there’s a new day about to unfold ahead of me. A new journey to take. A new path to follow. I wonder where this moment leads? To find out, I only have to take another step. I only need to begin again. πŸ™‚

I’ve got things to do, busy Saturday ahead, and I expected to rush out without a word. I dislike rushing. Chose to go ahead and enjoy my morning coffee. I don’t have much to say, though. It’s just me, a coffee, some thoughts. πŸ™‚

Today begins with a plan. Beginning again? Today I’ve already begun. πŸ˜‰

A moment, a flower. Taking time for what matters most.

There’s always tomorrow… πŸ˜€

The quality of the sleep I am getting seems good. I’m not waking during the night. I’m getting to bed at an hour that results in no less than 7 hours of sleep, which I seem to be getting. I’m consuming carefully measured quantities of caffeine, and limiting that to early in the day. I mentally run down the list of carefully selected good sleep hygiene practices that I rely on to get the most out of my resting hours…

…Regardless of all that, I am particularly groggy upon waking to the alarm these last couple work days. My body feels rested. My brain feels unready for the new day. I’m doing my best to properly wake up, to be thoughtful, coherent, ready for the day. So far this is more an exercise in effort than any sort of effective achievement.

A moment in the garden on a summer evening.

I sip my coffee and contemplate the summer heat. The garden isn’t as lush as I’d like it to be. Summer heat. I’m often away all weekend. The time taken to water during the week, before work, and again in the evening as the heat slowly begins to fade to cooler night-time temperatures, really makes a difference when I’m not at home to do it on weekends. This past weekend many of the roses bloomed in what seems a rather early second blossoming of loveliness and fragrance. I take a moment to feel grateful to have gotten to see it.

This year, just one flower.

Peeking out from the summer foliage, a single flower blooms on Nozomi, a delicate miniature rose that is a long-time favorite that I’ve had since… 1993? This year she’s only bloomed this once; she is usually among the most prolific bloomers among my roses. I make a mental note to re-pot her this winter.

“Feeling overwhelmed” is an experience fairly common to being human. Seems more common these days, for more people, although I’d begun to experience it much less myself. Starting in November, 2016, it has become, once again, plenty common for me, as well. “It’s all just too much” is the feeling. I give myself a little internal moment of real understanding, because, as feelings go, the most appropriate response to the feeling of “it’s all just too much” is simply “yes, yes it is” followed by “we’ll get through this, together”. A deep breath. A sigh. I move on from the moment; every moment passes.

I think over an interaction with a friend from earlier this week. She was feeling overwhelmed to the point of tears. “It’s all just too much!” A moment of sympathy and support rather quickly became quiet frustration and puzzlement, as it became apparent that she was investing in her feeling of being overwhelmed by building that and growing it, rather than sorting it out and easing her own suffering. Attempts to support and help her weren’t seeming either supportive or helpful, as she quickly interrupted anything helpful, soothing, or perspective-offering, (that could have just as easily been used to calm herself) to reinforce her self-inflicted, home-grown, utterly subjective internal experience with quick contradictions, veering tangents, and distractingly vague exclamations of distress. She quickly shored up her powerfully negative narrative each time I attempted to bring clarity or calm to the shared moment together. So frustrating. Eventually, the time-sensitive nature of schedules and calendars intervened. I went on with my day. She went on with her tears. I am still puzzled at the whole thing; it’s hard to fathom someone not actually accepting the help and support they’ve sought out. I still just don’t get it.

…I don’t have to “get it” – a lot of what is going on just isn’t at all about me. Not my circus. Not my monkeys. That’s not only okay, it’s necessary; I can’t shoulder the burden of all the world’s chaos and damage alone. I manage my piece as skillfully as I am able. I try not to add to the pile. πŸ˜‰

Still groggy, I check the time. Well, damn. It’s already that time again. I hit that metaphorical reset button, look out the window into a pre-dawn sky that reminds me summer will end, and likely sooner than I expect. It’s a good opportunity to begin again. πŸ™‚

Beginnings add up. I begin again on the regular. lol I know a thing or two about new beginnings. One thing I know about beginnings is that they are each also steps on a longer journey. πŸ™‚

You know what else I know about beginnings? Sometimes, they’re just mornings. Sometimes I am sluggish in the morning. Sometimes the coffee is just a coffee, and the moment just a moment. That’s okay, too. Human experiences have a lot of variety to offer.

The morning ahead “feels busy” and it’s barely started. The competent techno I ended up listening to is just engaging enough that I didn’t shut it off, but only engaging enough to amount to acceptable background music; pleasant, and not distracting. It seems a comfortable fit for a morning that will become a day, that I am still to groggy to contemplate. I need more sleep… or to sleep in. I’m not sure which. Doesn’t matter. The weekend was fatiguing, and I’m paying for it now. That is generally the rule; we’ve got to pay for our thrills. No fair fighting it. So, I’m tired. It’s not really “a thing”. I’ve learned so much about good self-care. I’ve got this.

Today I’ll do the work thing and handle some non-negotiable time-sensitive tasks and errands. Adulthood demands my attention. πŸ™‚ Tomorrow, I’ll see about getting the car serviced. There’s housework to do. The frequent travel screws with my routine, but I do miss my Traveling Partner so much that it is very hard to stay home. I contemplate that puzzle, and remind myself there is an underlying plan with a much longer arc in time, and some handful of years from now, or maybe sooner, we may be living quite differently. No knowing how the future really plays out, though. πŸ™‚

My mind wanders. The techno plays on. It’s time to begin again. πŸ˜‰