It’s evening. Even the memory of coffee has grown cold. The work day is behind me. I’ve got my feet up and I can hear my Traveling Partner laughing in the other room, probably talking or gaming with his son, online. It’s a “joyful noise”. I could be feeling pretty mellow, contented, and even merry right about now… but… I just hurt.
…I’m doing my best…
I’ve done what I can for pain management. I’m even managing not to weep, though tears threaten to fall at any minute. I managed to cook an evening meal. I managed to get through some work tasks I had committed to for my partner. I put in more effort than I expected I could. Now what’s left over is just the pain. It’s “just” my osteo-arthritis. It’s the time of year when I reliably wince and grumble about how it seems so much worse than I remember (it probably isn’t). There’s no yardstick or set of calipers for measuring pain. It’s very subjective. So. I hurt. I’d say… 7 out of 10? I’m definitely at “fuck-off-I-just-hurt-too-much-for-this”, for sure. I breathe. Exhale. Sort of relax. It doesn’t feel better to do that, just reminds me that I hurt from a different angle.
Soon I can make excuses and go to bed without feeling like… I don’t know. Like someone who goes to bed too early? I sigh out loud and feel stupid.
…I recently got excited to actually read Lord of the Rings. I never have, which is just the tiniest bit embarassing. Didn’t care for Tolkien’s writing style in high school. More of a Heinlein fan, myself, and a big reader of non-fiction, as well. I think I have tended toward lighter, “easier”, faster-paced fare as stories go… The works of Robert Heinlein… The Chronicles of Amber… The Elric Saga… The Chronicles of Thomas Covenant… Right now, though, I just hurt. 😦 I hurt so much I don’t even feel like reading. Crazy. I’m not tired either… well, not sleepy.
I’m sipping what is left of my first cup of coffee. It’s mostly gone cold and I think about that new mug my Traveling Partner got to keep his coffee warm while he is working… yeah… do want. lol Another time; it’s on my wishlist. 😀 This coffee, right here, is good enough.
It’s a quiet moment. Lo-fi playing in the background, the soft sound of the A/C (or is it the heat?) running in the background. Laptop in my lap. Morning. My Traveling Partner was up when I got up. He went back to bed shortly after I made my coffee and sat down with him. I figure he was most likely up during the night, based on the peculiarly affronted tone of voice to his reply (he declined) when I asked if he’d like me to make him a cup of coffee as I went to make mine. I hope he gets the rest he needs.
…I guess this means we’re not going out to breakfast, though… lol
I give myself over to enjoying the quiet. Later, I’ll do laundry, dishes, vacuuming and dusting, and all the assorted housekeeping I just don’t have energy for during the work week. I make a grocery list, also for later.
Yesterday, I went shopping for jeans to replace the tattered overly-worn (worn-out) jeans I’ve been shlumping around in for a year (longer). I don’t enjoy shopping for jeans – it’s often quite difficult to find any that fit, are comfortable, and also look good to me. This time, with some effort and a lot of trying things on, I found some I liked and it didn’t even feel like an unreasonable expense. After I got home, I did the step that I so often fail on; I went through every pair of jeans I had in my closet, tried each pair on, and put it through the same test as when shopping for new ones; do they fit, are they comfortable, do I like the way they look on me? Everything that failed even one of those tests went into a bag to go to a local donation center. Clearing up the clutter always seems to also “free my mind” from the sludge of chaos.
This morning, I woke, showered, and put on a pair of new jeans. Feels good… and a little weird. A well-broken-in pair of jeans has a certain familiar feel that is hard to describe. These don’t have that, yet, but they are very comfortable, and I am at ease. I remind myself that just because something is familiar that doesn’t make it also good.
Why does any of this even matter? I’m not sure it does. It’s just a quiet Sunday morning suited to self-reflection, and I happen to be aware of my higher than usual feeling of personal comfort and contentment in this moment. I’m making a point to be aware of what has gone into creating this moment, and really making a point to savor it; it won’t last. Moments don’t last. They are fleeting. Brief. Transitory. They are… momentary. Eventually, I’ll have to begin again. 😀
For now, it’s me, this quiet moment, the lo-fi on the stereo, this feeling of comfort and this cup of almost finished, almost cold coffee… and it’s enough.
When the rain began to fall, so close to the forecasted time it may as well have been a plan, rather than a weather forecast, I was long gone. Already home. Already showered. Already astonished to feel the bone-deep fatigue that had set in once I got home. My Traveling Partner seems glad to see me. We both get something out of these opportunities to miss each other.
Site 146, C Loop
I had originally planned to be camping Wednesday through Sunday, home on Sunday afternoon. Instead, I got started a day later (bills to pay, frankly, and needed the work hours), and then called it “done” a day early, when the weather forecast became pretty insistent on the chance of rain going from “possible” to “probable” to “count on it”. I am decently well-equipped, even for camping in the rain, but… I didn’t bring the extra overhead cover I’d need to make cooking outdoors comfortable in a downpour, and didn’t look forward to breaking down my camp in a rainstorm, either. I woke this morning having already coordinated with my Traveling Partner, who seemed more eager to see me than inconvenienced by my early return. The sky threatened rain before day break, but the forecast stayed true; no rain fell. I had coffee and a bite of breakfast, tidied up, and got started packing up.
Looking like rain.
I got in some good walks. Got some good pictures. Got some solo time thinking my own thoughts and being master of my time, my intentions, and my effort from the moment I woke each day until sleep took me down each night. I meditated. I watched the fire grow cold on a chilly evening alone with the woman in the mirror. I picked up my sketchbook to sketch or paint, and put it down without doing anything with it at all. I picked up a book to read, and put that down, too. Turns out, this trip was me, with my thoughts, and little more than that. I cooked. I tended the fire. I listened to my inner voice, and reflected on my experience.
…It was an amazing time to spend with myself…
“hearing myself think”
I don’t want to mischaracterize my camping trip; I was in a colossal managed state park that has some 400+ individual sites, arranged in loops A through H. This place is huge – and popular. Jessie M. Honeyman Memorial State Park is on the Oregon Dunes. It’s an amazing place, with several activities available, including ATVs on the dunes, kayaking or paddle boating on either of two lakes, fishing, swimming, hiking, biking, or joining the merry oldsters in the Welcome Center to work on the latest jigsaw puzzle. Popular + activities = crowded. I wasn’t surprised that most of the sites seemed full, even on a Thursday. This fucking place looks like an outdoor gear convention. It was hard to “be alone” surrounded by people – I got most of what I needed fireside in the evening, or out on the trail during the day. It’s a friendly place. And noisy. So noisy. I can’t even go hard enough on this point; it’s fucking noisy. ATV’s. Packs of shrieking kids. Wailing babies. Adults who should know better yelling to each other across multiple sites worth of distance. Loud trucks and loud talkers. It’s fucking noisy. It’s not a great choice for camping if quiet is what you’re looking for, is what I’m saying. I was regularly approached in camp by strangers asking questions about my solar panels, or the fridge, or some other piece of gear or something else that caught their eye. Like I said; a friendly place.
…I’m not really “approachably friendly” with strangers, though, so this tested my ability to be polite and gracious, which are skills worth cultivating…
I’m glad to be home. I slept poorly. There were too many “feral children” running about loose without supervision in small packs of “new best friends”. There were too many dogs on leashes (and a few that weren’t, which was worse) and many of them barked. Like, a lot. People camping in family groups taking several sites were common… and loud. Very loud. “Rambunctious” seems like a good word for it. In spite of all of that, I had a good time, and got a lot of what I needed out of the time spent more or less alone. Worth it.
…The drive was lovely, both directions, and felt very much as if I were the only car on the road at all. It was quite wonderful.
Anyway. I’m home. There’s more to say about it, more to process. Pictures to look over. Anecdotes to share when the context and timing are right. I sit here listening to the rain fall (on a video, as rain falls outside), happy to be home. Happy to be.
A frown crosses my thoughts briefly…some bad news shared by a friend taking the form of a facial expression as I recall it. I breathe, exhale, and let that go for the moment. I’ll come back to it, later.
It’s a metaphor.
I sit here with my feet up, feeling grateful, contented, and loved. It’s enough. More than enough. It’s a firm foundation for all the many new beginnings to come. 🙂
Here it is already Sunday. First week on the new job is already behind me. New week ahead… so soon. The weekend feels peculiarly short now that I’m back to work. Still… it’s the result I was going for, in practical terms. I sip my already-cold coffee feeling infused with contentment and purpose.
This particular new adventure is a bit of a “routine breaker”, as it turns out. I’m even okay with that. I’ve been going into the city and working from the office most days, so far. No obligation to do so, it’s just quite a pleasant (and quiet) workspace, and my Traveling Partner’s own work needs presently make it a good fit. My broken routines don’t end there… my waking time varies quite bit, which is rare for me. Meal times, too. What I’m up to from moment to moment is pocked with strange spontaneity, and I’m okay with this too. I’m getting more/better sleep, and the new “really mine” CPAP machine seems to be working out well (although, as is typical for me, changing to a different mask completely fucked up my sleep for a few days until I got used to it all over again). Last night I actually slept more or less entirely normally – even got 7.5 hours of actual sleep. Good quality sleep. My mind is still pretty blown by that. It’s pretty huge as small wins go. Sleep is a big deal.
…My Traveling Partner is also sleeping better, as a result, and seemed to be in quite an excellent mood even first thing. It is a nice change. 😀
One thing I haven’t been doing, though, is writing. Or painting. Or, honestly, doing anything that amounts to creative work or “me time”. I’ve just been too busy with all sorts of new job stuff, and by the time the work day is over and my commute is behind me, I just don’t have it in me to sit at a desk even a moment longer. I had that very thought this morning, and laughed; the solution was right in front of me. I grabbed my laptop and a comfy seat on the couch in the living room, with lo-fi on the stereo, and here I am… no time pressure, no sense of obligation, no stress. Just a woman, a moment, and some words. Nice. 😀
I sip my coffee. Colder now for having taken a break mid-sentence at some point to check out my partner’s progress on a project he’s working on for a customer. Complicated stuff. I enjoy his walk through of software features and new knowledge, and seeing how the template for a new piece develops, and where the challenges are. When he reaches that point where his words are more part of his internal dialogue than anything to do with our conversation, I kiss him and excuse myself to return to my writing.
If I examined this one moment and used it to gauge the entirety of my experience for “quality”, I’d have to say I’m both exceedingly fortunate and also very, very, happy. I sit quietly for a minute, just smiling and enjoying the feeling. I think most of us spend far too much time mired in what frustrates an upsets us. The challenges and aggravations of life become too large and too much of what life is “about”. It’s so worthwhile to really savor the satisfying pleasant moments, the joyful moments, the contented moments… and I find that doing so helps create balance, and resilience. It allows the “character” of my experience, overall, to encompass so much more than old trauma, or future worry.
…”Now” is quite nice this morning, so I think I’ll “stay here” awhile… until it’s time to begin again.
I’m sipping my coffee and preparing for an interview. I’ve got two today. In between those, I review other leads on suitable opportunities, and do coursework to refresh various certifications (and acquire new ones). Learning new skills is as much about a personal desire to continue life with a “growth mindset” – continued education has been demonstrated to slow cognitive aging – as it is to do with adding professional value. Both are worthy goals. Both require a commitment to time, study, and effort. I’ve got the time. I’ve got the curiosity and the will. All that remains is to make the effort. 🙂 So, here I am, with a hot cup of coffee and a highspeed internet connection. Studying. Updating my human software through learning. (First the learning, then the practicing!)
I haven’t said much about the CPAP machine and how all that is working out. I guess “okay”. Wearing the mask is… weird and uncomfortable sometimes, and it’s taken quite a bit of time (and mental discipline) to get used to it. I sometimes wake up in the midst of confusing dreams that I’m down in my foxhole on the perimeter, in the desert, at MOPP 4 in my NBC suit, mask on, waiting for an all clear that never comes. Stressful. It wakes me. I take off the mask, sit up for a moment and get my bearings. I breathe deeply. Sometimes I meditate for a moment or two. It passes. Sometimes, I wake up trying to turn over, and getting tangled in the hose briefly – but long enough to wake me, aware that I need to take more care. Sometimes, the sound of the machine wakes me. Sometimes the mask slips or shifts a bit, and I have to sit up and resituate the mask for better fit. Like so many things, getting it right takes some practice. I received my own machine just the other day (from the VA), so I’ll be returning this loaner to my local sleep clinic, and getting used to an entirely different model. Maybe better/easier? Maybe – maybe not. I guess we’ll see, eh? I’m certainly not questioning that I need this bit of support. I am sleeping more, and I’m not snoring (which means my Traveling Partner can sleep, which definitely a win). Whether the quality of that sleep is truly improved will be settled over time. I think I’m getting more/better rest… it’s pretty subjective, but I’ll go with it.
I started setting my sunrise alarm for an early time and getting up promptly and getting my day started, this week, returning to basic time management practices I associate with working. It was nice to take a break from it while my Traveling Partner’s son visited us, and then while I was down sick for a couple days. I even began sleeping past 07:00! The routine has value, though, and I’m taking advantage of it to get in some walking and writing time in the morning, and to give my partner a chance to sleep without me bumbling about and knocking into things, as I often do. It’s a routine that seems to work for both of us.
I look over my list of leads and tasks to tackle between interviews. First one coming up in about half an hour gives me time to study my notes before the call, and maybe get some fresh air and a bit of a stretch. I feel relaxed and ready. I feel worthy and centered.
