Archives for category: Relationships

G’damn, yesterday kind of sucked. I was in so much pain that managing it required more effort than usual and I ended up spending a notable portion of the day just laying down. I didn’t get shit done… like,  not anything, beyond making waffles for breakfast. Today I’m in less pain (so far), but my allergies are bad. I’ve already gone through an entire travel pack of tissues, and I’ve only been awake an hour and a half.

Yesterday didn’t go all that well, generally. Between my pain, my Traveling Partner’s pain, and various complications of managing chronic pain day-to-day, the result was an unfortunate amount of poor communication, inadequate mood-management, and vexatious terseness with each other that was the opposite of “getting along”. I’ve rarely felt so unwelcome in my relationship. I’m definitely not casting any blame; neither of us was up to delivering our best in the way of support,  encouragement, kind words, affection, or even a welcoming presence,  like, at all. It was unpleasant, but could have been ever so much worse. I sometimes wonder if we (either or both of us) fail ourselves – and each other – by being too tolerant or accommodating of poor behavior because we do both know just how much worse it so easily could be, because we’ve both had those other much worse experiences in prior relationships…? We for sure could potentially have done more, better, to treat each other well yesterday. We didn’t. We’re both quite human. It was on my mind when I woke this morning, and as I dressed and slipped out of the house with as much consideration for my partner’s sleep as I could muster.

I went to bed feeling frustrated and a bit peeved. I woke feeling only concern and love, and wanting to soothe my partner and invest positive emotional energy in the day ahead. Here’s hoping that works out for us both.

New day, new perspective, new opportunity.

I hit the trail feeling hopeful and stronger than yesterday, and substantially recovered from the exertion of my camping trip, and subsequent return. I feel up to tackling a good couple miles along the river and the edge of the marsh, and feel optimistic about following through on my list of shit yet to do, before the new week begins. Feels pretty good – definitely better than yesterday!

At my turn around point I sit for a few minutes listening to the birds and breezes, and the traffic in the distance. Memorial Day. Hey, I’m not feeling weighed down by grief and grieving, this year… remarkable. I sit with my feelings awhile. Gratitude and a moment to contemplate those who have fallen, with fond thanks, and soft sorrow… seems enough this year. I’m okay.

I sigh out loud, and breathe the Spring air deeply, taking in the scent of flowers. I think about my Traveling Partner, still sleeping at home (I hope), getting the rest he needs. The sun climbs higher, warming my shoulders as I sit, watching the river flow past. I hope today is mellow and cheery and relaxed. We both need that visceral experience of being wrapped in love and in the good company of someone dear to us. I’ll do my best to deliver… painfully aware that “my best” yesterday was not even close to “good enough”. How do I make ammends for my part in yesterday’s unsatisfying experience? I sit with my thoughts awhile longer…

I hear voices approaching from somewhere down the trail. Must be time to move on. lol I get to my feet, and prepare to head back to the car, and on to the next moment. It’s already time to begin again. Hopefully my results today are better than yesterday… they do vary.

I’m taking a few minutes, having a mid-morning, post-waffles, cup of tea (Smith’s No.120 Jasmine Nectar, which has a lovely delicate fragrance). The tea is quite good. The moment is… meh. It’s okay. Not great. Not terrible. Just a moment, and it’ll pass and I’ll move on to the next one. I’m in a ferocious amount of pain this morning, which colors every experience in spite of knowing how pointless and unhelpful it is for that to be a thing. I keep having to make a point of not allowing it to seep into every crevice of my awareness and experience. My results vary.

…The waffles were good, though…

I don’t feel inclined to finger-point, lay blame, or even “troubleshoot” this moment (or any previous, this morning), it’s not even about that. We’re each having our own experience. I’m pretty sure my Traveling Partner is in every bit as much pain as I am in, maybe more. That likely colors his experience, too. Probably best to simply acknowledge our individual and mutual discomfort and not take any of that at all personally. I sigh. Breathe. Exhale. Relax. (Fuck I wish I weren’t in so much pain, though… but at least the waffles were good…)

I think about the dishes that need doing. The laundry. Tidying up my office space in preparation for working from this location, generally. It didn’t sound like much to tackle when I woke up this morning. It seems almost too much, now. Nothing has changed but the amount of pain I’m in, and my perspective on the day (that is probably a lot to do with the pain I’m in). I’m glad it’s a long weekend… tomorrow may be better, but regardless, it’s at least another day to work on these “getting back to the day-to-day” sorts of details. I’ll be ready by the time the work week begins. I sure feel tired now.

I think about the wildflowers out on the coast and the ones on along the trail this morning. It’s interesting what a different assortment they are. I look for pictures, and only just now realize I didn’t take any this morning. I sort of just rather purposefully walked down the trail to “there”, and then back. It wasn’t a grim trudge, but it wasn’t notably joyful. I was just… existing. Doing a thing. I was already in pain.

I hear my Traveling Partner laughing in the other room. That brings a smile to my face, even though he’s been a bit cross this morning. He enjoyed the waffles, though – those were good, this morning. It was lovely to share that experience with him. Good waffles. 😀

…The waffles are gone. They were delicious. The moments pass. One by one they go from a moment of being to nothing more than a recollection. Impermanent. A small piece of a larger whole. Any given moment, however good, however difficult, is another chance to begin again. It’s something. It’s enough.

I woke early and headed to a favorite trail. It was already daylight when I reached the trailhead. I had the trail (and the park) all to myself this morning and enjoyed my walk, listening to birdsong, the distant sound of traffic on the nearby highway, and the crunch of of my steps on the trail.

I’m sitting at my half-way point, now, enjoying the stillness I walked so far to reach. 1.5 miles. My first 3 mile walk in awhile, by the time I get back to the car. Feels good. It’s an overcast morning. Looks like it might rain. I breathe the cool air deeply, taking in the scent of Spring wildflowers. Lovely morning for it.

Today I’ll spend the day on various preparatory tasks for my camping trip; I leave tomorrow morning sometime. (I’m not rushing and don’t have any reason to set some firm timeline.) I’ll do a few things to help ensure my Traveling Partner only misses me because he loves me, not because there’s some massive inconvenience that is difficult for him to overcome. I’ll make a point of having him give me a refresher on setting up and using the solar power; it’s the sort of “use it or lose it” knowledge I am at risk of discovering I’ve lost, just when I need it most, and I’ve only taken the system with me for solo camping once before. Not enough practice with it, yet, to count on implicit memory.

…Tomorrow is so soon…

I’ve already fueled up the car. Had a couple repairs and some maintenance done. Got the oil changed. Made sure the wiper fluid is topped off. Fixed a broken latch on the lid of the center console (should have been done months ago). The car is ready for the next long drive. Next is packing the gear that’s at the house. Tomorrow, on my way out of town, I’ll stop by storage for the rest of the gear I need; I’ve already checked it out and figured out what goes and whether it fits in the Mazda.

…I  remind myself to take a minute with my partner to check the gear in the truck; there are probably a couple things I want that are kept in the truck, generally…

…Another trip to the store, too…

Mildly vexed by the cloudy morning, I check the weather forecast for my camp site again; still says sunny weather most of the time I expect to camp. I’m happy about that, but also unconvinced – and unconcerned. The weather will be whatever it is and I can’t do a thing about that, besides prepare for it. The map is not the world. The plan is not the experience. The forecast is not the weather. lol

I’m excited to get started, but equally eager to enjoy a relaxed experience, treat myself and my partner well, and avoid later aggravation by being well-prepared and un-rushed. It’s a bit of a balancing act. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I have no potential to find myself “running late”, my time is already my own for the next 7 days. That feels amazing. I can’t possibly find myself “ahead of schedule” or finding my plan going sideways, this simply isn’t built on such a delicate plan at all. Damn, it feels good to just not even worry about time or timing. I needed this rest, so much.

I sigh and laugh at myself, when I catch myself checking my watch for the time. lol These all too brief mortal lives are so time-bound. Hilarious. We made that shit up, and routinely forget there’s only now.

…Still…It’s a good time to begin again. Time to head back down the trail…

Hot coffee, a bowl of grits, and the sun in my eyes… it’s the morning of a new day. My last in this office, and I’m grateful I still had this day here! I woke ridiculously early – shortly after 2 a.m. – and couldn’t go back to sleep. My head was stuffy (allergies) and I couldn’t breathe sufficiently easily to rest comfortably with my CPAP mask on (yeah, that’s a thing). I finally gave up at 3 a.m., dressed, and headed to the office to avoid waking my Traveling Partner – no reason we should both lose sleep because I’ve got a head full of allergies.

I got to the office too early to pay for parking. Too early for drinking coffee. Too early to take my morning medication. Too early to start work. It was just too damned early. I crashed out on the beautiful leather modern-style couch in the corner: cute, minimalist, simple lines – and very uncomfortable, but I managed to nap briefly (almost an hour) and woke feeling decently well-rested. Good enough to begin the day. Good enough to make coffee (and grits). Good enough to enjoy the sun rise. So far? A good morning, in spite of the early start.

I flip through my notes about this-n-that. The camping trip (I’ve got a packing list and some things yet to do)… the housekeeping and shopping (preparing for the camping trip and providing for my partner’s comfort while I am away)… things on my mind that want further reflection (saving those for the camping trip and the drive down to the camp site)… oh and work (time to tidy up any loose ends before being away for an entire week). I’m eager and excited. The time is short; this is my last work shift before my camping trip, and Sunday is the day I plan to hit the road. There are things to pack, things to charge, and things to pick up at the store, and my Traveling Partner delighted me with a new 3D print project (a marble run), and it may be ready to assemble today! I’m thankfully not feeling overwhelmed by all of it – just excited. 😀

…Although I’m super excited about this camping trip, on some level it’s only now setting in that I’m really going, and for four days!…

I’m pleased that my plan ensures I’ll make it back in time to enjoy a pleasant long Memorial Day weekend with my Traveling Partner, chilling at home and puttering in the garden. (No way do I want to go camping over a holiday weekend. LOL Too many people.) I think about that for a few pleasant minutes… I think about making waffles, and watching favorite animated shows, and sharing pictures from the camping trip and hearing all about the projects he did while I was gone.

I remind myself to get out into the garden tomorrow and give it a good watering after I cut back any salad greens that have begun to bolt after the heat earlier this week. I think about cutting a bunch of those tasty greens to take with me (instead of buying salad greens). Sounds delightful. Tomorrow should be a great day for it, too.

Thinking about the weather tomorrow, I pause to check the weather for the upcoming week at my camping location on the coast. Mixed reporting; each source I look at gives a somewhat different forecast. lol Looks like a good chance of some showers Tuesday night (they all agree on that), into Wednesday morning, and pleasantly mild otherwise. I remind myself to thank my Traveling Partner for suggesting I take the Moon shade for additional cover – super handy for cooking if the weather is a bit drizzly. I grin to myself as I think ahead to camping – I love sleeping in a tent listening to the rain.

The picture is not the experience. The map is not the world.

Regardless how well-prepared I feel I may be, reality will have a say. I make a note to keep an eye on the changing forecast, and to set up camp such that items needing protection from the rain get it and any firewood is kept dry. I find myself thinking about how differently I set up my camp when I bring along the solar panels, and the fridge and such… without those “extra” items I tend to put my tent well away from everything, and don’t think too much about placement other than distance. Bringing along the solar power, the fridge, a complete camp kitchen and the Moon shade (which anchors to my vehicle) changes things… I think on that for awhile, just amusing myself with thoughts of camping, and setting up camp with purpose and intention. I can’t really do anything about it until I really see the site I’ve chosen and put my feet on the ground there, and see details like where the sunlight lasts longest, and which way the wind tends to blow, and where the fire ring is relative to the picnic table (I already know the picture is unlikely to be “the true truth” – those tables can be easily moved by a group or a couple of people with the will to do so, but I have trouble moving one alone, these days).

…I make a lot of notes (it’s just a thing I do)…

I sit quietly for some minutes, sipping my coffee and smiling to myself contentedly, feeling grateful, fortunate, and well-loved – and also wondering what I’ll forget on this camping trip? (Always seems to be something.)

I glance at the clock. I’ve “caught up with the day” – and it’s time to begin again. 😀

Tomorrow is for sure my last work day in this lovely office space. I’m not changing jobs; we’re leaving this space. Feels… strange. It’s okay. Not a sorrowful moment, just a moment. I sit quietly, looking out these windows at this view, and wondering what my day-to-day experience will be like after I return from my camping trip to a new, different, routine? Probably still pretty routine; that’s how I tend to live, mostly. lol

…I didn’t have to commute to this place to do the work I could as easily have been doing at home. I embraced the commute, and this space, as an opportunity, and I’ve enjoyed it for these past 8 months or so. Change is. I’m okay with that. I’m also okay with giving up the cost of fuel for the commute, and parking in the city, and all the vexing details that go along with all of that…

Traffic.

I’m counting down the days until my camping trip. My Traveling Partner was frank last evening that he’ll miss me, that it’s hard to do everything for himself when I’m away right now (while he recovers from an injury), and that he’s also a bit jealous to be stuck at home while I am camping. That’s real. I feel for him – and I feel fortunate to be so loved as to be missed when I’m gone. That’s beautiful. We both get something out of missing each other now and then, and I know I’ll miss him too. I also yearn for this time away, which I will spend in a solitary way, quietly among the trees, on the trail, or by the campfire. I need this solo time much the same way he needs the joyful camaraderie of our union as lovers and traveling companions on life’s journey – we do our best to strike a healthy balance, so we each thrive individually and together. He probably gets more time alone than he needs (I often find myself a bit jealous of that), and I don’t always get the solitary time I need – but we know the needs are there (his for steady, close companionship, mine for interludes of aloneness), and we work together to meet them (all). Funny how much love makes that matter – and how hard love can make it to achieve. It’s a peculiar puzzle.

“Life Sparkles (with the love we feel)” 11″ x 14″ acrylic on canvas w/glow and glitter 2018

I think about the here and now, and contrast it with daydreams of other places, other lived experiences, over the course of this one lifetime. There are so many experiences that I will likely never have, that I’ve often considered, or even yearned for. We make choices, and follow the path our choices take us down. Some choices take a few items “off the menu”, and some choices open grand vistas of new opportunities to consider. There’s a lot of variety in the human experience. I sit with my coffee, considering my choices, and where they have lead me. I couldn’t always say so, but it is very true today; I am walking my own path. That feels pretty good. I’m okay with where I am standing in life, presently. It’s a good place to be, although the world often feels like a pretty seriously fucked up mess on a terrifying order of magnitude (when I zoom out to consider that)… up close, this one life, this moment here, is pretty good. I’m okay… contented. Even “happy”. Deeply in love with my partner. Working a job I find satisfying, alongside people I respect and enjoy as both people and as colleagues. Living fairly simply in a little home I can call my own. I’ve got a veggie garden, beautiful roses, a small library of books I love. I’m fortunate. I can’t attribute all of my good fortune to my exceptional decision-making… because frankly, that’s not been the case for me. I’ve bungled a ton of shit, and made so many awful choices in life… but… I’m here, now, and this is a good place to be. I’ve gotten lucky, a lot, and I’m grateful for the circumstances and friendships that have paved this path, and continue to light my way.

Like a potted rose slaking its thirst on a gentle rain; I’m grateful.

I sigh contentedly. Be here, now. Good suggestion, if you like where you’re standing. If that’s not the case, it’s time to begin again, perhaps, and choose differently? So many choices. They aren’t all easy – and mistakes will be made. Results will vary. Verbs will be involved. The best plans still require attentive follow-through, care, and action. Sometimes adulting is hard. Sometimes life is filled with sorrow. We fail, we fall, we hurt, we struggle… and then we begin again. No do-overs, really, but we can pick ourselves up, brush the dirt off our knees and the tears off our cheeks, and walk on. Mostly it’s enough. The journey is the destination. We become what we practice.

…What are you practicing?…

I chuckle when I notice how filled with aphorisms and purpose-built slogans this particular bit of writing happens to be. I’m okay with that, too. “Repetition is learning.” I heard that first from a monster, many years ago, under circumstances I don’t care to repeat (or share in any detail). The source of useful information has nothing much to do with the usefulness of the information, itself. Another good lesson learned.

Change is. Choose wisely.

I look fondly out the windows to the park below. It’s a lovely view and I’ll miss it, but it’s time for change – and time to begin again.