Archives for category: Sleepless Nights

I woke from restless dreams about change and started my day the usual way, more or less. The evening, yesterday, ended on an unfortunate contentious note that seemed neither necessary, nor helpful. I finally gave up on conversation and went to bed, feeling irritated and frustrated.

I managed to sleep, but my sleep was both unsatisfying and filled with strange dreams of things not turning out properly regardless of effort or attempts to fix things. I woke feeling glad to be released from my dream life.

View from the trailhead before dawn.

I got to the trailhead still fighting the fairly stupid very human urge to “prove my point”, left over from last night. That kind of horse-flogging, tail-chasing foolishness is an incredible waste of precious limited mortal lifetime. I snarl quietly at myself to let that shit go. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I roll my eyes in an unseen expression of exasperation, and sigh. Letting a moment of discord take over my thoughts and “live in my head” that way does nothing to add to my life, and it’s pretty fucking pointless, generally. Seeking to convince someone else of something that directly contradicts their experience or beliefs is unproductive.

Either, or. Neither, nor. Grammatical details matter most if the result affects meaning or understanding. The rest, I think, is a matter of style… but… language functions by agreement, does it not?

… I still catch myself doing a search of my written work for a turn of phrase and a keyword I’d been accused of not using (or not using correctly), and easily find dozens of examples, old and new. It’s neither rare nor used incorrectly, where I find it. On the other hand, to the point my Traveling Partner was making, it’s also not at all consistent and I often don’t bother with it. I write very much the way I talk, so it’s a given that in spoken conversation and day-to-day use, I’m certainly also quite hit or miss, and probably misusing grammar on this detail a lot. I sigh. Is he right? Is he wrong? Am I? Are we both? Are we neither of us specifically exclusively correct? The particular point of grammar involved really matters to him. Less so to me (aside from how much it matters to him).

“Emotion and Reason” 18″ x 24″ acrylic w/ceramic and glow details, 2012

I sigh to myself and let my vexation melt away. What matters most to me is how much I love this particular human being. Enough to work to change. Even to flex my style. There is work involved, especially because I just don’t actually personally care much about this particular point of grammar, myself (using”neither/nor” to support the negative most correctly vs lazily defaulting to “either/or” all the time). Being very grammatically correct on this point has often gotten me teased for sounding pretentious or stuck up, and I suspect that drove me to discontinue it in favor of a more relatable approachable conversational style. I think it over as I lace up my boots before I put the whole vexing thing aside to walk the trail.

The things we do for love

There’s a hint of daybreak in the paler gray of the pre-dawn sky. The moon has set, but I won’t need my headlamp for long. The chilly dampness of the marsh wraps me in mist and silence. It’s a good time to begin again.

I’m sipping my coffee and thinking about words this morning. My coffee is seriously pretty damned dreadful, and the words I’m thinking over can be vexingly easy to misuse.

People are pecular, and inclined to misattribute what is going on within themselves (or externally) to some cause or another without even a casual fact-check. Humans being human; we are prone to assign “blame”. We think we know the how or why of a circumstance and we decide who or what is at fault based on our “knowledge”. Sometimes we think the fault is our own, and possibly accept responsibility for some event or circumstance, maybe even seeking to make amends for some thing we think we’ve done. Other times, it’s someone else deciding who or what they think is at fault for some situation or event, and they put the responsibility with that individual or group or entity, assign blame, perhaps demand accountability or redress of perceived wrongs. It’s strange stuff, most particularly because it’s often quite subjective, not well-researched, even thoroughly fallacious (or just fucking wrong). We human beings make a rather ridiculous number of assumptions, are exceedingly “gifted” at flawed reasoning, and confirmation bias, as well as offensively fond of maintaining a self-righteous grip on some dumbass notion without regard to any sort of fact-checking. We like being “right”, and we’re often willing to believe we are in spite of mountains of readily available evidence to the contrary. Fucking dumb. Humans being human.

I keep sipping my dreadful coffee. “Why do I do this to myself?”, I wonder, vaguely amused. I could totally go back to the break area and make a better cup of coffee. Instead I continute to sit with my coffee and my thoughts.

When I was much younger, I was often willing to expend a lot of energy arguing against stupidity (or lies). I rarely do now. It’s not that I’m not amused/offended/discouraged by apparent idiocy – totally am – I just… don’t feel I have the time to waste on that, these days. I have a life to live, and it is finite and mortal. I’d rather let wrong-headed bullshit go, and just move on (and potentially simply reduce contact with people perpetually inclined toward lies, stupidity, or negativity). I’d rather just not hang out with someone who is fond of conspiratorial bullshit than argue the point. I’d rather just smile and maintain a comfortable distance or an agreeable presence in the face of someone insisting on being wrong about something for which there is definitely evidence for a different opinion, than fuss over minutiae that may not truly matter for enjoying a moment together as people. It’s not that I don’t enjoy “being right” as much as the next person… I don’t enjoy expending energy fighting for it. If you think differently than I do, but don’t violate my personhood along the way (or anyone else’s), why do I care? You’re free to be wrong. Generally speaking, this seems a win, to me – being accepting, being tolerant, being okay with uncertainty or even being wrong. Only…

…I’m reading “On Tyranny“, and the author makes several very solid cases for specific circumstances in which being accepting or “agreeable” is not a good thing. Something to think about, and I sit with my coffee this morning thinking about words, thinking about ethics, and thinking about the potential risk in being too accepting or too tolerant, under a variety of circumstances. Definitely worth thinking about.

…Although, keeping it real? This doesn’t feel like a world where we’re all at tremendous risk from being “too tolerant” most of the time…

Sometimes there’s real personal risk involved in tolerantily accepting blame (or inaccuracy, errors, or lies) rather than arguing a point. Tolerance is virtuous – unless it is tolerance of actual evil. Real damage can be done. Words have meaning, how we use them matters. The world is complicated, and there’s surely room for many thinkers and many opinions, but there is only one actual reality, one world we all live in, one set of provable, demonstrable, documentable, actual facts – and a lot of people willing to undermine that reality to bolster a narrative that they prefer (whether for power or for profit). Real people can really get hurt. I could become one of those. So could you.

I sip my coffee grateful for this quiet moment of solitude. Right here, right now, there’s just me, this moment, and this dreadful cup of coffee. It’s on okay moment. I’m okay with the bad coffee; it’s real. It’s authentically crappy, and it is what it is. There’s nothing to argue about, and nothing to fear in being honest about it. No particular harm in it. Nothing controversial about a bad cup of coffee – unless perhaps I’m ready to go down the ethical rabbit hole of “should we be drinking coffee at all, considering the terrible exploitation of coffee growers?”. I sigh quietly. Shit is complicated when we “zoom out” and take in a bigger picture.

Reality is what it is. Reality doesn’t care what I believe (or what you believe), or whatever bullshit notions I may be inclined to cling to. Facts don’t lie – but it’s damnably easy to be wrong about whatever conclusions are drawn from them. Another sigh. Another sip of dreadful coffee. My thoughts don’t change anything this morning, and it’s time to begin again.

…Maybe a cup of tea, instead?

Small things matter. Small details of our circumstances can make big differences in our experiences. Small choices that seem inconsequential in the moment can result in important changes that have lasting effect. Small gifts sometimes feel so much more intentional and heartfelt. Small things matter.

This year’s new Giftmas ornament, an unexpected little gift from my Traveling Partner.

Yesterday I was in too much pain to manage it easily. I did “all the things” and didn’t get much relief. By the end of the day just about everything was getting on my nerves on this whole completely intolerable level, and I could feel how short my fuse was getting over things that were… small. I made the choice to go to bed early, figuring I could just chill and read, and maybe rest a bit, even feel some better perhaps, rather than eventually lashing out at my beloved Traveling Partner or the Anxious Adventurer over some dumb shit that wasn’t personal, or even problematic. (I can’t even describe how painfully annoying the sound of a sauce being mixed in a small glass bowl happened to be, it was awful – and really really dumb to affect me that way.) It was a small choice – but a good one. I didn’t read long; I was exhausted from the pain I’d been managing all day, and quickly fell asleep.

I woke during the night “for no reason” – and annoyed about it when I could not easily get back to sleep. I checked the time. No anxiety, just curious, and saw that about 12 minutes earlier my beloved had sent me a message (also wakeful in the night). There was some sound outside keeping me awake, I finally noticed it. A hum? A whine? A train on siding somewhere not too nearby, but close enough to disturb my rest? A loud HVAC unit? Was it even a real sound, or just my tinnitus? My partner was awake, too, restless and uncomfortable. We quietly commiserated, and finally went back to sleep. It was a tender shared moment, no agita or aggravation. I appreciated the comfort of knowing he was there, sympathetic and caring. (I fucking love that guy.) Small moment, but it really mattered.

I made a small change to my routine, knowing I needed to get some good rest, and reset my alarm for a later time than I’d usually choose. Too late to get a walk in. That’s fine. I woke to my artificial sunrise at 05:00, from a sound sleep. I started my day in the usual way, otherwise, and headed straight to the office after making coffee for my Traveling Partner and putting out a breakfast snack for him. I know how much those small things matter to him.

…Small things matter…

Sometimes it feels like everything is huge, urgent, overwhelming, or “the next big deal”, but the small things really do matter. Little things like an unexpected “thank you”, or a moment of consideration, or a helping hand when you thought you might have to go it alone can really change how life feels. Consider being that for someone – today. That small thing could matter so much. This is a time of year that can be really hard on people, and we never really know what someone else is going through. So often “doing our best” includes wearing a mask or putting a good face on a serious hardship. We can each make a difference for the people around us by doing our best, sure, and being kind and considerate, yes – but also? Small things. Little things. Doing something just a little bit extra or out of the ordinary in some moment can mean so much – and it costs so little of our time or attention! What else is nice about this is that it can feel so amazing to do something for someone!

…Do little things for you, too; you matter. Take that moment. Explore that opportunity. Investigate that interest. Indulge your curiosity. Give yourself a moment of your own time and attention. Practice good self-care. Breathe.

All of it matters, doesn’t it? At least a little bit? Choose wisely – our lives are built on the choices we make. The journey is the destination. We become what we practice. (Good news, though? If you were a giant jack ass yesterday? You can begin again, and do better today.)

I sip my coffee and smile. I feel okay right now. It’s a good morning. A good moment. A nice opportunity to begin again, aware that the little things matter.

I woke up feeling cross and headache-y. I rolled up the road in the foggy darkness after making coffee for my beloved Traveling Partner and putting out a fresh glass of water and some morning snacks for him to wake up to. Hopefully his night was better than mine. I get awfully annoyed with him when he’s stupidly cross or frustrated with me, particularly when it is over something I don’t have a lot of control over, or something that isn’t about me at all in any reasonable way. He’s human too, and recovering from a serious injury is difficult and frustrating on its own. That’s not made easier by the medications he is taking to ease this or that symptom. I remind myself often that it isn’t personal, that he’s doing his best, and that he loves me. Doesn’t always make it any easier to endure.

Last night he was pretty crabby, in general, and I was “over it” almost immediately. I have needs of my own, and I definitely didn’t feel supported, cared for, or held in high regard. Didn’t help that I hadn’t slept well the night before, and knowing that was true for him, too, I suspect poor sleep was the biggest piece of our shared experience. I called it a night early and tried to get the rest I needed. That was a mixed success and my night was interrupted and not ideally restful. I’ll get over it.

I remind myself not to be a jerk to people; I can’t really know what they’re going through, and most people mean well, and generally try to do their best. Choosing to do anything else than my own best, to treat people well and kindly, with patience and understanding, comes with real predictable consequences. I know that’s true in work, family life, and love. People have a finite amount of nastiness or disrespect that they’ll endure before they lash out or just walk away. That’s reasonable, too. There’s no need to put up with someone’s bullshit rudeness, mistreatment, or drama, at all – there are other (better) options.

I think about my behavior, and I think about my beloved’s behavior, too. We’re walking this path together out of love, and I’m grateful for this deep and enduring love we share – but I’m no fool; we both have options. There’s no reason either of us should settle for each other’s worst behavior, ever. We have a mutual obligation to each other (and to the love we share) to do our best every day. Sure, sometimes our results may vary, and human is human. Still, it’s worth the effort, and certainly if we give up making the effort, love will bear the consequences. That’s just real.

I sit in the pre-dawn darkness out on the marsh. The fog is dense this morning. My head aches and my tinnitus is louder than the traffic on the nearby highway. I sigh quietly and see the steam of my breath become part of the fog. The VA says I need hearing aids now. I guess I’m not surprised. I haven’t really processed that yet. I don’t know how much it really matters. I hope they’re easy to wear and use and that they help. It’s been frustrating to have to be face-to-face with my beloved to be certain of hearing what he’s saying to me, and it’s clearly been frustrating for him, too. The doctor suggested, kindly, that there’s a chance the tinnitus will seem less loud when I’m hearing voice frequencies at a normal volume once again. That’d be a nice change. I’m grateful for the chance to have this technology available. Pretty amazing.

I sit with my thoughts awhile. It’s a chilly morning. Thanksgiving tomorrow, and I’ve much to be grateful for. I focus on the gratitude. It’s pretty hard to feel annoyed and grateful at the same time. lol Useful cognitive trick.

I get to my feet. It’s time to begin again. I’ll do my best.

I slept like crap last night. My sleep was restless and disturbed by strange unsettling dreams. Not exactly nightmares, I guess, but my dreams were peculiar and distressing enough to wake me. I woke a bit more than a half hour early for the day to begin, too, feeling restless and fussy. My Traveling Partner was already up, rather oddly, and as soon as I entered the living room he said “now I can go back to bed”, or something of the sort (I was still pretty groggy). It was weird.

Later, after I was long gone and out on this trail in the fog and darkness, he pinged me, awake again (still), and told me about his restless night. Rough. I send him my love and some affectionate stickers and emoji. Probably not very helpful, but hopefully he at least knows I care. Before I can share the love song that has been stuck in my head since I woke this morning, he’s headed back to bed. I hope he finally sleeps.

I pause on the trail in the cold to write a few words and gaze at the sliver of moon in the east through the fog, before I finish my walk and head to the office. Today feels “too busy” and I’m short on rest. I’ll do my best. What else is there to do?

It’s Thanksgiving week, of course it feels busy. I laugh to myself. Human challenges. Human limitations. I breathe exhale and relax. I meditate for a few moments, unconcerned with the cold. It’s not quite freezing. I’m glad I wore warm layers, and my scarf and gloves! I think about sitting by the fireplace, cozy and warm. Winter soon.

“Fireside” pastel 2024

I look at the time, in the pre-dawn gloom. Daydreaming can wait. It’s time to begin again. The day is waiting.