Archives for category: Relationships

If you’re human, chances are, sooner or later, there’s going to be some yelling. It may seem “appropriate” in the moment. Maybe it’s because something went wrong, or was tremendously frustrating. Maybe there’s a ton of anger behind it. Could be you yelling. Could be someone else yelling. Could be “at you”, or just near enough to be audible to you. There’s gonna be some yelling at some point, because very few people are explicitly taught any other behavior, and we see that loss of emotional control modeled pretty much everywhere, daily, and then amplified in our media and entertainment. Yelling is a thing a lot of people do.

I don’t like yelling. I don’t like it when my own emotional reserves run out and I am reduced to yelling. I don’t like being yelled at (ever, at all, over any-fucking-thing whatsoever). I’m not making any claim to whether my feelings about, or response to, yelling is generally reasonable – I don’t have an opinion on that; I simply don’t like yelling. At all. That’s a me thing.

My feelings about yelling, generally, are of no consequence to the existence of people yelling as a phenomenon. Yelling still occurs, regardless of my feelings. Humans being human. We vocalize, and under specific sorts of stress, we vocalize louder. We’re rather stupid primates in that regard – we apparently think being louder makes us easier to hear, or to listen to. Doesn’t seem to be that way in practice, in any clear or obvious way. Yelling does feel “weaponized” though, and my own perspective is that any good intention in the words being spoken is entirely lost as soon as the words are being yelled. All I hear is the emotion driving the yelling.

Today is high risk of yelling, due to the additional environmental stressor of having our roof being done. It’s hard to relax, converse, work, problem-solve – really anything that requires any focus is wrecked by the “stomping” (they aren’t) and banging (they definitely are) and nailing, and all the various overhead noises that are part of roofing. So, noise being noise, and the both of us having some “noise sensitivity” concerns, there’s considerable risk of lost tempers, frustration, and yeah – yelling. Not gonna lie, I don’t like it. I am eager to have the roof finished, though. It’s work that needed doing when we bought the house, and now here we are, at last. I’m sure not going to do anything to slow this process down. Instead, I’ve got to commit to the practices and verbs that help me manage my own tone and communication – while also committing to the practices and verbs that allow me to make room for my Traveling Partner to have his own experience. We’re both wholly human, and each having our own experience. His frustration often results in yelling (it’s often not personal at all, and often not directed at/toward me – he’s just somewhere else yelling at a thing or process that is frustrating him). It’s part of his communication style and a means of self-expression, I suppose, and it’s not up to me to decide who he is or chooses to be. (I definitely do need to work on not taking it personally – because it isn’t personal.)

I so loathe yelling as an experience, myself, that I work my ass off to just not do that. At all. My results vary, and I admit that I yearn for success that results in a 100% no-yelling environment as a basic condition of day-to-day life, which is a really high bar for success). Again, I don’t make any claims as to whether this is a reasonable approach or desired outcome. I don’t know that. I just know it is what I want for myself (and the world I live in). So I keep working at it. Practicing not yelling. Practicing not becoming a crying mess of bullshit and drama when I hear raised voices.

I mean.. actually… it’s important to practice the positives (it’s hard to practice not doing something, easier to practice doing the more appropriate thing that gets the desired outcome). My Traveling Partner is right about that; expressing such things in the negative (“don’t do” vs “do”) limits success at the most basic cognitive level. I guess that makes “practicing not yelling” more about doing the practices that build emotional resilience and reduce reactivity, and practicing taking a calm and measured tone – even under stress. That’s helpful to prevent becoming a crying mess of bullshit, too, although for that I think also practicing non-attachment, and practicing acceptance, compassion, empathy, and consideration go a long way toward avoiding bullshit and drama.

Now, for anyone thinking to themselves “well, what if it is personal?”. “What if the yelling is abusive, controlling, or manipulative behavior for personal gain?” “What if I really am being emotionally attacked by this person?”. Well, to that I say “I hope you recognize that the most useful solution to such a relationship is to get the fuck out of there while you can?” Meditation doesn’t resolve abuse. Mindfulness, consideration, kindness, openness, and even love will not prevent someone who is harming you from continuing to do so. (Nor will they heal broken bones or broken hearts.) It’s important not to assume someone else’s abusiveness is “you”. Set clear boundaries. Build healthy relationships. Walk away from abuse. You matter. Work on you. Let that other person fix their own bullshit.

Anyway. It’s a second day of listening to banging over head. It’s hard on both my partner and I, and it means a day of practicing patience, of being kind, of being aware and considerate, and of cutting ourselves and each other some slack when tempers flare or voices are raised in a moment of frustration. There will be verbs involved. No doubt my results will vary. I’ll just have to begin again. 🙂

What a fucked up mess this moment is. I mean, it could be worse. Really, I’m fine. I’m just… an emotional pile of shit. Chaos and damaged piled high, this morning. I didn’t see it coming. So often, on days when I yield to unexpected fortuitous happiness, joy, or profoundly good moods, I don’t see the twist that sends it spiraling off course equally unexpectedly (and with a whole fuck-ton more baggage, resentment, and disappointment … in the moment, in myself, and yeah, even with the entire fucking world).

Um… no, I don’t have any helpful suggestions for these sorts of trying moments. I suppose, besides being utterly human, they are also probably more commonplace than any one of us damaged fucked up little chaos primates would like them to be. Fuck my bullshit – and fuck yours too. Sorry. I mean… I hope you’re having a good day (legit). Right now, I’m not, and I’m still seething, and stuck on the edge of tears. It’s not “necessary”. It’s not even “rational”. (It’s definitely not “rational” – these are emotions, for fucks sake.) “Wait it out.” That’s a suggestion; these things pass. “Breathe” is another helpful-ish sort of suggestion. I mean… that one is sometimes like telling a hysterical person to “calm down”, though; it’s correct and useful for what it is, but who the hell wants to hear that shit in the moment?? Nope. Me either.

So…yeah. Fucked up moments are a thing in our human experiences. Sometimes our hysterics, tantrums, or blow-ups make sense for scale, urgency, or magnitude of our hurt… other times not so much. I can only point out that refraining from taking action in the heat of the moment, and ideally even mustering some self-restraint with regard to what we might choose to say out loud, makes a lot of fucking sense – but it won’t end the moment (or our hurt) any sooner. Just reduces the mess there is to clean up afterward.

Around here? Nothing damaged, nothing broken, no one injured, no violence occurs… it’s just sad and frustrating and disappointing and aggravating (and did I say sad?) when tempers flair, or feelings get hurt. My head aches from the stress, and from crying. My Traveling Partner has gone a long way toward soothing hurts and trying to heal the moment; he’s pretty good like that. I am less skilled at that sort of thing, and I’m a bit “stuck” right now. Nope, no advice to offer from the perspective of “in it” right now – only perspective. It’ll pass. I know that with certainty. Emotional weather, just a squall. The climate around here is exceptionally pleasant. Weather still happens. (It’s a metaphor.) It’s a bit of an endurance test, and I know I can pass.

…I’ve just got to begin again…

…Sometimes that isn’t easy.

Inspiration leads to… change. Leads to amazing discoveries. Leads to new art, new writing, new thinking. Inspiration comes in a lot of forms, and I think one of the most unusual forms of inspiration for me over the past 2 years and 8 months (or something like that) has been… the pandemic. No kidding. Yes, it’s been hard. Yes, there have been tragedies upon tragedies, upon inconveniences, upon hardships and chaos. There have been colossal disappointments and headaches, and a lot of the experiences of pandemic life have been less than ideal. No argument there. …But… Have you noticed the other things?

Early in the pandemic, to stave off boredom and despair, a lot of people took to new projects and practices to keep themselves from spiraling into depression or to “save their sanity” as close quarters quickly began to feel like real confinement. My Traveling Partner built a new gaming computer – then built one for me. (We really lucked out on the timing, there, because things like graphics cards became “unobtainium” early in the pandemic.) I took on renewed enthusiasm with my aquarium, redesigned the interior of that habitat, and gained some delightful new aquatic creatures. We worked together to refine my work-from-home space to make that not just endurable, but really practical, and actually better than anything I could achieve in the office.

As time wore on, a lot of landlords began to get restless and their ability to earn their living was negatively impacted along with a lot of hard-working people struggling during the pandemic. Our own landlord made noises about wanting to move back into the unit we were occupying – even though we were great tenants able to pay on time each month. We started looking for a home of our own, and surprised ourselves by finding one we could afford, in a community we actually found desirable and livable. We moved, during the pandemic. Craziness. The “new house” thing kept us very busy during the latter half of that first year, and on into the second.

Time kept passing. Pandemic kept being a pandemic.

On Valentine’s Day this year, my partner surprised the hell out of me with a rice cooker and a wok. (We generally don’t do anything about Valentine’s Day other than love each other – which we do all year, every day.) I had never cooked with a wok. I’d only recently even attempted a stir fry for the first time, in a big skillet. I began my next pandemic project right then; learning some Asian cuisine. This was not only wildly successful (and tasty)… it opened my eyes to something I really hadn’t allowed myself to understand before this; I wasn’t actually a very good cook. I made food that was entirely edible. Simple. Decent casseroles. Good biscuits. Acceptable mostly relatively healthy absolutely 100% ordinary food. Good enough that someone sitting down to my table would eat a meal. Not good enough that folks raved about it or asked for my recipes, with the exception of my chocolate truffles (thank you Jacques Pepin) and my shortbread (thanks, Granny). Sometimes my cranberry sauce would wow someone enough to ask for that one (my own recipe, using whole cranberries, cooked with care, and some “wow” added with tangerine slices and Cointreau). Not exactly something to brag about.

My Traveling Partner has always been kind, gracious, and appreciative of my cooking. He’s also nearly always had “notes” – feedback. Some observation on this or that I could maybe do better, offered with great care, love, and consideration for my feelings. My cooking did not get better thereby, or at least not very much. I needed more time, and more study, and I needed to get to that place where I understood that my cooking needed real improvement to be “good”.

That first “pandemic Giftmas”, he gave me Kenji Lopez-Alt’s book “The Food Lab”. (I recommend it!) This started me down the path of actually learning to cook. Like, for real. I learned to make scrambled eggs that were so good I was proud to serve them – and enjoyed eating them – and learned that I didn’t actually “hate eggs”. I just didn’t know how to cook them. LOL I started paying attention more to what I was doing, and really taking my time in the kitchen. The new house has a kitchen that is really my own – and my Traveling Partner began making me cool kitchen gadgets and tools in his shop. I added “The Wok” to my cookbooks, another great cookbook by Kenji Lopez-Alt. I began making changes to how I shopped, prepared, and cooked various foods, based on my partner’s feedback, my new cookbooks, and… inspiration.

My cooking just kept getting better.

The cutting board and knife bar were made with love – and definitely improve the flow of my work space in the kitchen!

My cooking was definitely also “skewed Asian” – I pretty much gave up cooking anything that didn’t happen in a wok. LOL (I even planted my new garden with veggies specifically for stir fries. :D) I was a bit hesitant to stray from what was working out so well!

I kept studying and seeking out chefs, cooks, and content creators whose YouTube videos gave me the most practical insights to becoming a better cook. I continue to do that today. Why am I even going on and on about it? Because… inspiration. See, one evening I decided to whip up something with pasta instead of making a stir fry, or fried rice, or noodles. It was truly dreadful. I mean, honestly, I made something I’d made before, made the way I had always made it. It was a bit of an eye opener, honestly. Did not realize how entirely mediocre my cooking actually had been. It was a hard meal to eat. We had a sense of humor about it. I went back to wok cooking, which I’ve gotten pretty good at it and continue to study.

…But it nagged at me…

…I enjoy good pasta…

I also enjoy Joshua Weissman’s cooking videos. I bought his cookbook. I recommend his content. Some of it is Asian or Asian-inspired. A lot of it isn’t. I kept thinking about pasta. I really do like pasta. I was hesitant. I went looking for more pasta-specific content I could count on to be really good – things that would elevate my cooking, and teach me. Not just any cook, chef, or content creator makes the cut for me; I want to learn. The content has to be “proper“. I’m pretty selective. I stumbled on Vincenzo Prosperi – an Italian in Australia. I watched a video on his channel Vincenzo’s Plate, reacting to bad cooking (hilarious)(and just as I had with Uncle Roger’s videos about fried rice) – and then watched Vincenzo prepare the dish correctly. I watched others. I was watching one a couple days ago. My partner happened to be watching. “Now that looks good!” I was hesitant… seriously nervous about it… but I went for it last night, and made a lovely mushroom pasta dish for dinner. Wow. Worth the study, worth the care – it was tasty and felt like a kind of a home coming. (Thanks, Vincenzo!).

It’s going to be hot this week. I woke this morning eager to consider a cold pasta salad. I searched YouTube for inspiration (…that word again…), and found Jim at Sip and Feast. I watched a couple videos, and my Traveling Partner wandered through the living room just in time to hear Jim talking about his Greek pasta salad. “That sounds yummy” he remarked. “Yeah?” was my answer while my fingers began the practical task of jotting down ingredients I didn’t have on hand. There was time for a trip to the store before the heat set in…

A recipe is really just another kind of map, isn’t it?

It’s much later. There is a lovely pasta salad ready for these hot afternoons. I’m sipping an iced coffee that I spiked with the squeezed out shell of the lemon I zested and juiced for that recipe, and some very handy Jacobsen’s Lemon Zest sea salt – which, omg, so useful and yummy. (I’m not sponsored by any of these folks or brands – I just enjoy them and want to share with you.)

It doesn’t have to be fancy to be satisfying.

It’s a good day to be inspired. It’s a good day to begin again. It’s your adventure – choose your next move. 🙂 Where will inspiration lead you?

Damn today has been fairly shitty. My partner and I are both still sick, and we have been fussing at each other as if we were adversaries on opposing sides of a long-standing conflict who are forced to interact through diplomatic circumstances. Icy moments interspersed with snarling. Tears and slammed doors. The increasingly full waste baskets accumulating used tissues are a visual reminder moment-to-moment that we really are both just sick. It’s unpleasant – it’ll pass.

I thought maybe a nice dish of coffee gelato might be refreshing. I lost interest quickly; limited appetite, even after 10 days of being ill, and I’m just sort of “meh” on food. Without meaning to, I gave up cannabis at some point in the past several days… couldn’t vape. The coughing it caused was intense and painful. I might just leave it as is see how things go. (I mean… if I don’t miss it, does it matter?)

I’m pretty “meh” on any number of subjects right now. Being sick has a tendency to refocus my attention. This afternoon, my attention landed on my rather messy collection of music and video playlists, and more than any meal or flavor this really engaged me; disorder in my environment, over time, adds up to disorder in my thinking. Could just be me, but it’s a thing I know to watch out for. It was my default “Watch Later” list on YouTube that got my attention. It was woefully out-of-date, clogged with shit I’d already watched, or had lost interest in. I cleaned that up, then noticed that a particular music playlist had several tracks that had subsequently been deleted from YouTube… so… I cleaned those up, too. I noticed that my “everything” playlist (literally just all the videos I’ve liked/enjoyed/been fascinated by in one place – b-sides and one-hitters, cool visual art, just… everything) didn’t actually have all of my everything in it, any more… there were new things added to other playlists that never got saved over. I cleaned that up, too. My “favorites” playlist seemed a bit stale… so many tracks that aren’t really “favorites” at this point that should live on over on the “everything” list instead. I cleaned that up, too. As I worked from list to list, tidying up, I experienced that same surge of satisfaction and contentment that I get when I clean the bathroom, kitchen, or tidy some particular space such that everywhere I look is just… right. The details matter, when it comes to our sanity, right? 🙂

I’m not saying that any of this is a cure for stress or anxiety, or in any way a substitute for proper therapy, medical care, or healthy practices generally. It isn’t. It’s more a nice addition, and something to do on a sick day when I’m feeling fussy. Well, I was feeling fussy. Now I’m mostly just chilling. A better feel for a summer Saturday. The music plays on. Videos on one monitor, and this “blank page” on the other. Part of what feels so good about self-care is simply the obvious; self-care feels good. We all want to be cared for. Sometimes I forget how easily that can start with how I care for myself. 🙂

I’m also thinking ahead to my camping trip. I don’t always sleep well when I’m camping. Those wee hours of darkness and solitude are sometimes best passed with some sort of entertainment available – a good book, something to study, some music. Having all my playlists sorted and “in good working order” could be handy. One of my camping trips, I slept during the afternoons almost exclusively. I was wakeful and restless during the night, eager to hit the trail in the mornings, so it was afternoons when I took my ease and got rested. Those were long nights. LOL That location had no connectivity.

Self-care matters. What does it take to feel cared for? How much of that can I do for myself? That kind of emotional self-sufficiency doesn’t just lighten the load on our partners and friends, it also provides a level of all-over independence that reduces how easily we succumb to heartache, loneliness, or manipulation. I feel a surge of anger that I got so sick at all – I’ve got shit to do!! Places to go! Fitness to pursue! A garden to take care of! Meals I’d like to cook! I glance at the clock, keeping an eye out for timing on the next round of cold remedies to take. This will pass.

…I can tell I am at least starting to feel better; I keep wanting to do more, or to cook, or tackle a project. Attempting to respond to the inclination with real action generally still results in frustration, breaking out in a sweat, getting dizzy or woozy, and just giving myself up to the visceral reminder that yeah, I’m still sick. LOL It’s a very human experience.

…I’m so ready to begin again. 🙂

By way of a quick pre-amble, I’ve mostly just been busy with life and not writing. Trying to work in all the other things I’d like to do with each precious day… Meant to write last week, at least a couple times I started in that direction, got distracted with other things. I’d like to think it is a sign of overall emotional wellness and long-time healing that I don’t feel so compelled to write… but… more likely, it’s just hard to juggle all the things, and at least for now, the writing seems to most comfortably take a backseat in my list of priorities.

I’m sipping my coffee on a sunny summer morning in mid-July. I guess it’s probably an okay cup of coffee. It’s hot. I tested negative for COVID on a home test – twice, a couple days apart. I’m vaxxed. Boosted. I stay current on flu shots, too. I’m still sick. I traveled to Seattle to meet with colleagues from global locations. There’s always risk of contagion involved in such things – and that was equally true before the pandemic as it is during. Head colds. Flu. Norovirus. Legionnaire’s. These human bodies are vulnerable to attack from viruses and microbes. Not much to do about that besides limit the risk, where possible.

…I knew the overbooked meeting space was risky…

By the last night in Seattle last week, I knew I’d come down with something. I’d hoped it would turn out to be some minor head cold. I’m now enduring day 5 of some serious “ick”, possibly the flu. I mean, it could be worse, though, right? I’m mostly pretty able to care for myself. My Traveling Partner is here, too, looking after me with his special brand of loving care. I’m grateful. I’m also sick and fatigued with poor quality sleep and the ongoing struggle to breathe comfortably. My hopes for “just a cold” evaporated when this shit moved from my sinuses into my lungs. Fucking hell. My voice comes and goes, and is froggy and strained when I have the use of it. My sinuses are still draining gross crap into a seeming endless quantity of tissues. The cough is painful. My breathing sounds like I’m keeping tiny tea kettles and doggie squeeze toys hidden in my shirt. I’m fussy and have a short fuse. I want to sleep, but it’s harder to breathe when I lay down, with the result that my brain keeps me on high alert, preventing me from falling asleep. I’ve been dozing off during the night, for an hour here or there, waking to lay waste to more tissues, or have a cup of hot tea, or… cry. Yeah. Weirdly, this particular sickness has specifically hit me hard in the emotional resilience places. I’m easily frustrated. Easily moved to tears. I can’t be easy to be around right now.

…My Traveling Partner, doing his best to care for me and see to my needs when he can, makes it super clear I am very difficult to be around right now. He’s obviously trying to help. He’s obviously frustrated with me being ill. Signs of his enduring affection and love are all around me here at home. I focus on those, and not on his very human frustration with (and worry over) me being so sick.

…I’m very sick. Legit. Rare for me to be so sick. It’s not the sort of “drive to the ER” kind of thing COVID can be. I’m just sick. And miserable with it. And tired.

I think I am starting to get over it? Maybe? Yesterday I had enough reserved to water the garden. I had enough appetite to eat something besides chicken broth. Last night I slept – almost through the night, waking only twice, and not for very long. The cough is worse today. I feel weak and dizzy. I gave up on work after a couple hours this morning, after thinking I could potentially work half the day. I’m drenched in sweat and I’d just fucking go back to bed, except that laying down just means listening to myself wheeze and whistle while struggling to breathe, and I don’t feel like it. I also don’t “feel like” doing anything else. At all.

…Trust me, I’m being a complete fucking child about being sick right now. I hate being sick…

I had planned to return to Seattle next week. I’ve canceled that trip. No way I’ll really be well enough to undertake the effort, and may even present a health risk to others if I travel. I’d rather not spread this around the community, certainly I don’t wish to take it to another city in another state. I’ve got camping planned for week after next… from this vantage point, I don’t see that happening, either. Camping isn’t fun at all if I’m even a little sick or run down. I need my reserves to be at 100% for that kind of activity. I’m trying not to become prematurely disappointed – there’s a limited chance I’ll be up for it by then. Maybe.

I’m eager to get over this shit and begin again!