Archives for category: Relationships

I got the call yesterday evening. My car was ready to be picked up from the body shop. It’s been two… three? Three weeks, since I had dropped it off. I think. Close enough. I’ve been enjoying the comfort and luxury features of my Traveling Partner’s pickup. It’s very nice.

… I already miss the heated steering wheel and seats. 😆 The view is quite different, too. It defrosts faster on a cold morning, and has such a smooth ride! I already know that I will replace my current vehicle with the same make as my Traveling Partner’s truck, having determined the SUV in their product line will suit me nicely. That time is not now… lol

The Anxious Adventurer gave me a ride over to the body shop. I walked past my car looking over the repair work. Wow. Like new. I mean, I guess that’s the point. I slid into the driver’s seat gently, and readjusted the seat position and the mirrors. I start it up…no squeak. I pull out, getting the feel of it again; it’s very different from the pickup. Less luxurious. Less…(or…more?) of something else I can’t put my finger on. Feels weird, but also very comfortable and familiar. I like this car. But…? Yeah. It has its quirks and shortcomings.

From the trail, the vehicle doesn’t matter.

I drove to the trailhead this morning, feeling pleased to be back in my car again. I do enjoy the truck when I drive it, but it isn’t mine. I don’t like leaving my Traveling Partner stuck at home either, now that he can drive when he wants to. I chuckle at myself for being vexed that timing will prevent me from reloading my gear into my car before the end of the work day. I let it go. It’s not urgent.

I head down the trail into the fog. It’s a chilly morning. The season seems uncertain whether to be winter or Spring. I love hitting the trail at a time of morning to see the sunrise. This morning it is bold orange, veiled by the fog, creating a strange diffuse glow on the morning horizon. To the west, only fog, and the trail disappearing into it.

Friday, at last. It’s been that kind of week. I sigh to myself. I’d eagerly drive somewhere and try a new trail this weekend, but I need new boots before I do that. The car is due for an oil change, too. I  feel fairly certain there were other things I want or need to do this weekend, but I can’t recall them now.

I breathe, exhale, and relax, tasting the cold morning air and watching the sun rise. I stretch and sigh quietly. It’s already time to begin again.

It’s raining. The sound of the raindrops on the roof of the pickup truck sounds like someone’s fingers flying across a keyboard, typing out the words of some dramatic narrative very quickly. It’s just rain.

…It wasn’t raining when I left the house…

Change is. I sip my coffee, enjoying the moment as it is. Later, work, still later than that, contractors at the house for a maintenance task. Routine enough, not at all exciting.

This morning I woke to blazing bright lights; I had slept until my silent alarm went off (rare). The morning has felt a little surreal so far, as though it is only a template for an ordinary day, a placeholder for choices not yet made, experiences not yet determined, or… something.

My arthritis is bad today. My tinnitus is loud. My left shoulder hurts with fresh pain, recent but I don’t know what I may have done to injure myself there. My left foot vexes me, now that I think I know what’s up with that (a worn out boot), it just annoys me. It’s a difficult morning for pain. I look grimly out over the vineyard and sip my coffee. It is what it is, and it’s not new that the rain and chill make it worse. I shrug in response to the thought, and feel pain shoot through my left shoulder. A strained or torn muscle? Certainly possible. Meh. I let my mind move on.

Yesterday evening, my Traveling Partner commented that he thought he might have a fun solution to my challenge finding time and energy for painting, and a creative outlet that might satisfy my yearning to paint. He hands me a tablet with a stylus and an app on it specifically for digital art. I haven’t explored digital art much… Curious, I take it up a bit timidly, but I definitely did find some joy and creative satisfaction there. I’ll be exploring this more. It’s well-suited to “artistic tinkering” and has a lot of potential for more. My beloved was right; it really suits the way I approach early drafts of new ideas.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. The morning still feels like a placeholder for some other day or time, or some moment anticipated but not yet here. Funny. Strange. I stretch and sigh and prepare to begin a new day.

Enjoy the moment.

Stormy but mild, the weather is what it is.

Yesterday was lovely. Oh, not without a brief moment that was less than ideally harmonious, but we are human primates after all, the emphasis being on “primates”. Sometimes communication is more difficult than we’d like it to be, and in any household that includes me, this is complicated by both PTSD and brain damage. Still, generally speaking it was a lovely day spent in my Traveling Partner’s good company, and the rare moment of irritation or discord resulted in a better connection and clearer understanding of each other. Useful.

I make it a practice to focus on the positive, to reframe conflict in terms that allow me to grow and become more the person I most want to be over time, and as a means of allowing me to appreciate each finite mortal moment with my beloved. We’re both quite human. There’s no doubt we love each other deeply, and it truly matters to both of us to to heal, to support each other, and to move on from moments of conflict. Yesterday didn’t require much effort in that regard; it was a lovely day in good company.

I spent a good while reading, yesterday, which I enjoy quite a lot. I spent time writing and enjoyed sorting the many stickers my beloved Traveling Partner had gifted to me. (So fun! So delightful!) He worked on a project nearby, and we hung out together, each contentedly doing our own thing, together.

Today begins well. I get to the trailhead at sunrise, feeling well rested and merry. The walk down the marsh trail is pleasant, if a bit “squishy” from prolonged recent rain. It is sprinkling this morning. I don’t really care about that. I do care about the pain in my left foot (which I have been thinking was a flare up of tendonitis or maybe plantar fasciitis), which slows me down a bit. It becomes obvious as I walk this morning that it may be something much more practical in nature; I think the heel in these boots has some kind of “air cushion” or similar design, and I think the left side has blown out from wear. I’m annoyed by this because these boots can’t be re-soled. Well shit. They’re three, maybe four years old, and I’m probably due to replace them. I don’t really feel like dealing with that, but the path ahead will need sturdy boots, eh? That’s not even a metaphor; good boots make a lot of difference in the quality of a walking experience. I mean, okay, it’s also a metaphor.

…But I guess either way, I need new boots…

I stop a little farther on from my “halfway point”. I’m in no rush. It begins to rain a little harder and lacking overhead cover from the trees, I walk to the photographer’s blind grateful to find it unlocked, and unoccupied. It is a good spot to write and to take shelter from the rain.

What about the day ahead? No idea, really. Yesterday was lovely. There is no shopping to do, no errands on my to-do list, nothing on my mind. I’ll walk, and maybe do a bit of boot shopping before I head home to do some routine housekeeping and such. Maybe bake some bread if I have the energy later? Seems a good day for it. Maybe chili for dinner? I remind myself to check that I have all the ingredients.

Life being lived. Nothing extravagant or fancy, all pretty ordinary stuff. Where it gets complicated is that it is too easy to become wound up and twisted over some moment of disharmony or disappointment, and overlook all the joy and contentment. Savor the joy! Be present for the moments! Appreciating the pleasant moments and the small joys with the same focus, commitment, and energy we seem to save for arguments creates emotional resilience and a more accurate implicit sense of who we are and the life we lead. It’s also simply a very nice way to experience life fully; be present for each moment. That’s a pretty useful practice.

The rain stops. My Traveling Partner pings me a good morning greeting as he wakes. A large flock of geese passes overhead. There are more storm clouds on the horizon. The sky is a homogeneous milky gray. I sit with my thoughts and this quiet feeling of joy, and prepare to begin again.

Saturday morning. I was up a little later than has tended to be my long-time wake up time. Have I successfully reset that by an entire hour? Promising.

I sit for a moment in the warmth of my Traveling Partner’s pickup, thinking about the many things I have changed over the years, with patient practice and persistence. Incremental change over time is slow, but effective. I’m not much like that woman I was at 40. I’ve come a long way on this path I have chosen. I think about my beloved, and this relationship that has seen (and nurtured) so much of my growth. I smile. I’m grateful and fortunate.

The rain was falling before I got to the trailhead. I sit waiting for the sun and a break in the rain. Oh, for sure I’ll set off down the trail and most likely the rain will start falling again. That’s the way of things, isn’t it? It’s not generally helpful to get stuck on some one plan or set of circumstances; change is.

What love looks like may vary.

A couple days before Valentine’s Day, my Traveling Partner had given me a packet of adorable stickers – so many! They delight me. Yesterday, hanging out and watching a favorite show at the end of the evening, he went to the door (unexpectedly, from my perspective) and returned with a playful demeanor, opening a package. More stickers!! I smile every time I think about them this morning. We shared going through them one by one, delighting in the ones most meaningful or cutest to one or the other of us. Sooo many stickers. I feel very loved and visible. Understood. What a rare and beautiful feeling.

Even after I’d called it a night, I couldn’t stop looking at them, astonished by my Traveling Partner’s love for me.

Can love be measured in stickers?

The rain continues to fall. I sit listening to it, feeling loved, and merry. The unit of measure is unimportant, it could be heartbeats, kisses, stickers, or even raindrops. I am grateful to be so well loved. I think of my beloved sleeping at home. I hope he gets the rest he needs and wakes feeling wrapped in all the love I feel for him. It’s a lot. We’re fortunate to have each other. (We also work at love, together, because it matters. What could be more worthy of that effort?)

I think I may paint today, or perhaps relax with my book, reading by the fireplace… It’s almost time to begin again.

I reached the trailhead at daybreak. The days are getting longer, and dawn comes a little earlier. I also slept a little later, and got a later start. It all makes sense.

The tangle of oak branches against the gray winter sky manages to look a little eery, and the marsh trail is quiet. I have it to myself this morning. It is a Wednesday. I took off from work for a appointment later; I would have had trouble focusing on anything else. It’s to do with a fraud someone attempted to perpetrate against us back in the fall. It was massively stressful, and without my Traveling Partner’s calm support, I’d have probably lost my mind. It helped that there were clear steps to take to protect myself, my property, and safeguard my family, but it was also costly and vexing. I’m glad it is over.

… Human beings can be such bastards…

Taking time for this moment, now.

I get to my halfway point, and stop awhile to write and reflect. (This is me, now, doing that.) It’s a cold morning. Properly cold, at 31F (0.5C). After my walk, coffee with a friend (who is also a colleague), and on into the city for my appointment. It feels like a busy day, but it’s more that the events on my calendar are significant or important in some way, than truly being busy. I think about that awhile; how subjective our sense of time really is.

An enormous flock of geese takes to the sky from the marsh. It fills the sky overhead as it passes. There is a thin layer of ice over the marsh ponds. The meadow grass sparkles with frost. However long or short the moments feel, in a practical sense there’s really only “now” to work with.

I think about my Traveling Partner, hoping he is getting the rest he needs and that I managed to slip away without disturbing him. We’ve had a couple of difficult days together, which sucks, particularly considering how much we’re both obviously putting into having a better experience than we are. Shit gets real sometimes. We’re both going through some health stuff that complicates our shared experience. We’ll get past these challenges. We’ve gotten through worse.

I yawn and stretch. My fingers are getting cold. I look down the trail – “steps on a path”, I think to myself. Time to begin again.