Archives for category: Sleepless Nights
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Then The Rain Came

September 23, 2023 //
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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. 🙂

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Categories Allegories, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, turning 60

Monday Comes So Soon

September 10, 2023 //
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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.

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, Summer, The Art of Being, turning 60

Beginning, Becoming, and Updating the Software

August 29, 2023 //
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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.

…It must be time to begin again…

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Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, Logic & Reason, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Sleepless Nights, Summer, turning 60

Still and (approximately) Always

August 9, 2023 //
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Still and always practicing. Sometimes I get it “right”. Sometimes I fail myself (or someone else). Sometimes I am proud of the woman I am right now. Sometimes I fall short of being the woman I most want to be. I need more practice. 🙂

I’m sipping a delicious hot coffee, a freebie from the local chain vendor of caffeinated beverages (one of many that accumulated over the past not-quite-a-year of weekly commutes to the city). Handy. Yes, I saved them up over time without using them, figuring there might be some time when it would be nice to enjoy one, but perhaps excessively costly, for… reasons. Here I am, with reasons. LOL It’s a pleasant quiet morning. The slow dawn revealed a cloudy start to the day. The day started easily, and I had slept well through the night, waking feeling quite rested. My Traveling Partner pinged me a kiss emoji over SMS on my way to the solitude of a morning walk, and some time in the co-work space handling job search tasks. A good beginning to a new day, indeed. 😀

A different day, a different beginning; it’s not really about the cup of coffee, how it’s made, or where it came from – it’s about the moment.

My Traveling Partner and I had a moment of conflict “recently” (I have the sense that it was this week, but… I honestly don’t recall when, at this point, and it entirely blew over, and was, it seemed, more a byproduct of stress over lingering sleep challenges than anything else), and in the midst of taking turns saying things to each other that were needlessly unkind, he mocked the very thing(s) that I rely on to persist in putting one foot in front of the other day-after-day and which I use to heal ancient pain, and grow as a person, and yeah, also even use to treat him well, and with kindness and compassion. Ouch. My feelings were incredibly hurt. I was astonished and appalled. I was… enraged. I was saddened. (I mean, for real though? Damn, dude. Way to be hurtful.)

Here’s the thing, though… On reflection, I am sensitive to the idea – the very true truth – that “hurt people hurt people”. I know this first hand, from within the context of my own experience. Meaning to say that people who have been emotionally wounded over time do lash out, and they do inflict new/further damage on people around them, often those they love, and that damage is often targeted, using uniquely personal information that has the greatest potential to inflict pain, taken from the most intimate shared moments. Messy and unpleasant. Also… not actually “personal”. It just feels that way. It is an expression of the pain of the person delivering the injury, more than anything explicitly to do with the person they are lashing out at in that moment. Hurt and anger are strange like that. It feels personal to the recipient, mostly because as creatures we’re prone to taking shit personally, not so much because it really is.

…I get it, though… I work through a lot of my personal bullshit and baggage right here. Out in the open. Honest and real and raw and… also aspirational. I seek to do better. I don’t always hit the mark. I set goals for myself. I don’t always achieve them. I acknowledge where I’ve failed or fallen short. I pick myself up and walk on. I am practicing. Day after day, I show up, and I practice the practices that I hope will, over time, result in my becoming the woman (the person) I most want to be. I’m not there yet. I’ll point out two things that seem obvious to me, but maybe aren’t so obvious… 1. I practice because I’m human, and I’m “not there yet”; I need the practice! 2. “The woman I most want to be”… may not be the woman anyone else wants to see me become. With just those two things in mind, there’s more than enough within these blog posts to fill any argument with insults and barbed remarks to fuel any heated moment. Taking them personally would only set me up for disappointment, a feeling of chronic inadequacy, a sense of utter failure, and a quick slide into despair… defeating the point of being here, now, in the first place. “Don’t drink the poison.“

Instead of attacking him for attacking me over such personal things, or for seeking to undermine my progress (it’s highly unlikely he was looking at his words through that lens at all), I let those words simply land in the space between us unaddressed beyond the basic point that he was feeling hurt, mistreated, and provoked, and was frustrated by his lack of sleep. I did my best to focus on the need actually being expressed, and not so much on the shitty way he was expressing it in the moment. He’s very human. I “filed it away” for later reflection, and here I find myself, reflecting. It’s a nice morning for it. I’m in a good place. We’re in a good place with each other. I know I need more practice. That’s not new information. What’s useful to reflect on is where we are with each other, and how I can make use of what I’ve heard my partner say to me to become a better partner, and friend, myself.

Any misstep can become a beautiful gesture of love, if we’re willing to be vulnerable about our failures.

I think about the lawn my Traveling Partner recently put in. It’s gorgeous. In the process of preparing the ground for the new sod, my partner inadvertently damaged one of the roses. He didn’t hide that, or ignore it, or try to excuse the error, or blame someone/something else; he simply pointed it out, with some regret. He also took that moment to transform the mistake into something beautiful; he carefully cut the roses and put the blossoms in a wee vase on the table where I would see them. So cute. The little vase of flowers meant so much more to me than the unplanned cutting of a stray cane or two on a rose that is already pretty well-established. Just saying; we’re human. We make mistakes. We fuck shit up. It’s how we handle that and the outcome, and how we support and seek to heal each other as human beings that matters most. 🙂

I sip my coffee. It’s a good morning.

So… yeah. I’m a work in progress for sure. lol The journey is the destination. I am my own cartographer, and this trip has no map. I do my best, and I can fearlessly state that my results vary, and sometimes my best definitely does not feel “good enough”. It’s necessary to begin again. Often. All of that is more than “okay” – it’s the nature of the experience. Growth and incremental change over time are not instant. There are verbs involved.

I breathe. Exhale. Relax. It’s a beautiful morning to practice practices, and to put in the effort to become the woman I most want to be. With that in mind, it’s time to begin again. 😀

When it feels like it’s all stairs, it’s nice to have someone sharing the journey.
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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Roses, Sleepless Nights, Summer, The Art of Being, turning 60

Progress!

August 6, 2023 //
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Wow. Real progress with the sleep machine, after a week using it. I mean… I still wake up a couple times a night for no obvious reason (this is not new for me), find myself feeling… something… and I sit up for a moment, take the mask off, breathe freely (awake), readjust the mask and return to a comfortable sleeping position. The first couple of nights, that didn’t necessarily mean going back to actual sleep, and my sleep was pretty light. Last night, though, I actually got a couple hours of legit deep sleep. I woke feeling really rested. It’s nice.

Honestly, it’s not like I woke up more often or for any longer period of time than I ever do, it’s just that it’s a bit of a production to remember the mask, sit up, untangle the air hose, reach the machine, find the button, turn it off, release the mask straps, pull the mask off and set it carefully aside such that I can easily put it back on in the dark. LOL So much more involved than “wake up, sit up for a minute, go back to sleep”. It’s just taking some practice to get it down to basics I can comfortable manage without really waking all the way up.

…Difficult tasks get easier the more I repeat them. Complex tasks feel simpler with more practice. Discomfort eases with exposure over time. Incremental change is a real thing, and when I successfully balance these observations with practicing non-attachment (to an outcome)(when I can), the result is… a different experience. 😀 It’s not quite a rule book, or a how-to guide, just saying; if we keep doing something, it gets easier to do it at all. (Which does also suggest we should maybe choose with some care what sorts of things we commonly do…) We become what we practice.

…What are you practicing?..

It’s a quiet Sunday morning. I’m sipping this first, quite excellent, cup of coffee and thinking about the work week ahead. Oh, sure, I’m not presently “gainfully employed” by some entity sending me a regular paycheck, but there are steps to take to return to that state of being, and putting structure and focus on that is usually (I find) quite helpful (for me). So, in a sense, the tasks associated with looking for work become the job. It’s also a good time to give my Traveling Partner a hand with his business for a time. I’m handy and available, at least for awhile. Conveniently enough, it’s also (coincidentally) timed such that my step-son is visiting, and I won’t be taken down by fatigue day-to-day, just working – which means I’ll reliably have the energy to cook healthy meals and enjoy activities. 😀 I’m pretty excited about that. Stir fries, pasta dinners, maybe even – heat permitting – some baking – it sounds like fun, because I won’t be exhausted all the time.

I’ve always loved libraries.

Yesterday, on a whim, I went to the library. Yep. The actual municipal public library in my town. It’s quite a nice one. I went because I have it in mind that I’ll need an occasional “work from…” location that isn’t home. The local co-work space is closing. It’s been an excellent (and very handy) convenience, but as is often the case with small businesses in small towns, the demand apparently wasn’t high enough to keep it going. I checked out the library with that in mind. Wi-Fi? Yep. (Even encouragement to use it in the form of a notice that it is available 24/7 and “park in our parking lot and use our Wi-Fi any time!”) The operating hours of our library are limited; 10:00am to 7:00pm most days, and libraries are notoriously “quiet spaces” as well…so… not ideal for busy work days crammed with meetings, but absolutely fantastic for any days when job search activities need quiet, focus, and few distractions. There’s even a wee closet of a closed space for precisely that sort of thing (to include, in the case of this wee space, interview calls and meetings). Nice.

I sat quietly in several locations of the library getting the feel of it… would I enjoy working in this space? Sure. Suits me. The only serious limitations are the lack of morning hours (I can adjust to that) and… no coffee. I mean 100% “no coffee”. No food or drink in the the library. Period. So… yeah, I’ll certainly have to plan around that. LOL What a great spot for doing training and such, though! I’ve got a couple certifications to finish up, and that kind of thing is much easier for me to do in a quiet place without distractions. 😀 I know my Traveling Partner enjoys having some space to focus and think without me taking up space, sometimes, too.

I sip my coffee smiling. My Traveling Partner comes in and massages my neck a bit. I feel loved. We exchange pleasantries and smiles and he leaves me to my writing. It’s a lovely morning. A relaxed Sunday.

The lack of panic and stress over being out of work is helpful. It’s harder to do the job search stuff really skillfully while also juggling panic, desperation, worry, sadness, or becoming consumed by terrifying what-if scenarios of consequences that have not yet come to pass (and probably won’t). All of that is wasted emotional energy. I’m fortunate to have a partnership that supports me emotionally, and a partner who does not himself panic when I am between jobs. We shift gears a bit, take a careful approach to the change in resources, and continue to enjoy life. There’s work to be done, and it gets done without giving up weekends, pleasure, or good vibes. The good vibes matter. Enjoying life matters. 🙂

In the garden it’s time to harvest seeds and herbs to dry for winter months. I have time for it.

I think about dinner for later… pasta with some kind of luscious sauce of ripe summer tomatoes? Maybe some sausage in that sauce? Sounds pretty yummy. I double-check my grocery list; I’ll need to pick up a couple things. (I smile, reminded that whole fresh produce is fairly inexpensive, compared to packaged prepared convenience items, and the same circumstances that make me so careful about spending money on groceries also somehow tend to improve our quality of life, by “limiting” us to whole foods prepared at home.)

It’s a pleasant summer morning. There’s plenty to do and to enjoy – and it’s already time to begin again. 😀

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, Summer, The Art of Being
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