Archives for category: Sleepless Nights

No pictures, please.

It’s been a difficult weekend. Hormones, fatigue, poor choices, the consequences of broken routines, the inevitable truth that we are each having our own experience, and no doubt any number of small other circumstances distilled into a weekend wrought of pure misery.  I could go on at greater length, say more than that it mostly sucked, but it seems unnecessary, really; although we are each having our own experience, the experiences we are each having remain human experiences, and given a moment to do so, they are experiences to which any one of us can likely relate all too easily.

I brought souvenirs from Las Vegas: t-shirts, playing cards, anecdotes, and photographs.  I also brought less tangible souvenirs: exhaustion, frustration, physical discomfort, and PTSD teetering on the edge of emotional disaster. Life is like that, isn’t it? Things we see, things we miss. Things we accept, things we reject. Things we desire, things  we have. The destination, the journey itself.  So often, there is more than what is obvious, and being aware really matters.

I’ve brought souvenirs from life along with me, just as I did from Las Vegas.  I’ve brought a pretty vicious and chronic case of long-term frustrated anger with regards to how I perceive my place in the world in the context of the culture I live in, and how I have been treated, myself, as a woman.  I’ve also brought years of unresolved pain over trauma and abuse at the hands of people who claimed to love me. I’ve brought extra tickets on the ride to Hormone Hell.  I’ve brought nightmares, quite an assortment of them, and the tantrums and mood swings that sometimes complicate my life because emotionality is a common consequence of disturbed sleep.  How is it these are ‘souvenirs’ and not just my baggage? Well… if they were just my baggage, wouldn’t I just shut the fuck up about them, and get to unpacking the bags and putting shit away? I would think so… Instead, I find that I have no particularly successful methodology for that process, and a great deal of real talent at sharing the pain.

Souvenirs. I bring it. You endure it. For what it’s worth, I’m working on me with indescribable devotion, but nothing about that makes amends. Sometimes it is hard not to lose my way in the fog of fuck ups, discourtesies, moments of inconsiderate temper, misplaced hurt feelings, frustration, and failure upon failure upon failure to treat people (who matter) like they matter (because they do), including me.

Yesterday started well, ended calmly, but in between those two points… yeah. It wasn’t good. I woke this morning still feeling the sting of it, the sorrow welling up inside me, ready to spill over a new day. Then something went right. For the first time since I started having difficulties with my right knee, I was able to fold comfortably, gently, into the crossed-legged sitting position that feels best to me for meditation. First one breath, then another – not just relaxed, and not ‘doing‘ meditation – meditating.  I felt lighter.  Another breath. Thoughts were just thoughts again. Another breath. The future began to unfold less like a hinged box or difficult puzzle, and more like … spring.  Another breath.  Attachment to emotional outcomes fell away.  Another breath.  Calm. Just calm. Just being. No timer, no limits, no fear or doubt.  I felt centered. Safe.  I felt awake and aware of how far and how quickly I had drifted from my heart’s safest shore… and I held myself, my heart, within my own compassionate awareness for a time.

Hours later, I heard the household beginning to stir. A new day. A new experience. My skin shivered with the ripple of other emotions on the current of my sense of ‘home’.  I felt a moment of understanding, and acceptance; living with me has some very difficult moments. I took a moment to appreciate the will and love that must go into that commitment, and honored the effort my loves bring to our relationships and our life together. I sat down and finished the manuscript I’d been fussing over rather pointlessly for a few days (weeks?). It seemed the least I could do to treat myself well in the aftermath of so much hurting, to finish something I started to meet needs of my own, on time, and as a high priority for myself.  It feels good to have the moment, and take advantage of it.

Hell of a weekend… I’m not sure I’d call it ‘recovering from the trip to Las Vegas’ in any accurate way, but today, for now, I feel as if I am at least ‘recovering from tripping’. lol

I imagine people cry in Las Vegas frequently. It seems like the sort of city that could provoke it, under a variety of circumstances.  The experience of  Las Vegas is intense; there is just so much going on, continuously.

Las Vegas at Sunset.

Las Vegas at Sunset.

I’ve had a great time in Las Vegas, so far. Great accommodations, and in another post, on another day, I’ll link places that impressed me. This is not that post. It wouldn’t be fair to all the wonders of this city, or this hotel, to do that here, because right now I am crying in Las Vegas.

I’m not even sure these are ‘my tears’. I’m tired. I’m overloaded with new information, professionally. This is a very busy and very successful conference, and I’ve learned a lot that has value, and rates further contemplation, and future action.  I am, however, crying right now. I’m not even fighting it. I got back to my room before the wave of emotion overtook me, and there’s some comfort in that, because I can just give in to the tears. Perhaps another time I’ll write more about those, too, but there are already many strong voices on the subjects of rape, of gender, of parity, of suffering, of the everyday lack of decency, consideration, and goodness.  Those strong voices are already shouting into the wind. Right now, I am not that strong.  I’ll cry awhile instead, splash some cold water on my face, and get back to work.

This trip has been ‘all about people’ in a beautiful, very open way. That’s worth celebrating. So, I’ll cry awhile longer, and consider the people I’ve met here and the stories they have had to tell. Eventually my tears will dry, and I will once again feel a smaller part of a much larger whole, with my own story to tell; and words rather than tears will flow.  In the meantime, I’d like to introduce – Las Vegas people.

Hotel staff...

Hotel staff…

...Of all sorts...

…Of all sorts…

...at all hours.

…at all hours.

Practical work that goes on almost continuously...

Practical work that goes on almost continuously…

...in the sun, in the heat, in the background.

…in the sun, in the heat, in the background.

Shopkeepers with a dizzying array of goods, open almost 24/7.

Shopkeepers with a dizzying array of goods, open almost 24/7.

Street performers...

Street performers…

...girls in costume, and more. (Superheroes, cartoon characters, celebrity look-a-likes...)

…girls in costume, and more. (Superheroes, cartoon characters, celebrity look-a-likes…)

Las Vegas is a city of illusions for sale, for business, pleasure, and consumption.  It’s still a city. These are still people, each with their own story to tell.  Each storyteller bringing something to the tale of humankind that is worthy of a moment of attention; honest, heartfelt, and fearlessly engaged.

Not every story is a fairytale.

Not every story is a fairytale.

Today is a good day to say thank you. Today is a good day to be grateful. Today is a good day to be aware that we are each having our own experience.

 

It was an interesting weekend. Hormones, a homecoming, and the fun of a traveler’s tales wove a narrative with some ups and downs, some challenges, and some real delights. Spring in the garden and along the shorter walks I can manage on this knee gave up some wonderful pictures to enjoy, and some perspective on what matters most that helped me stay balanced and grounded as much as I could manage with the choices I made.

The loveliness of spring is, whatever else may also be.

The loveliness of spring is, whatever else may also be.

I am an imperfect being, human, alive, and more fragile than I expect to be. I suspect we all are.  I don’t make my best choices under stress; more stuff causes me stress than seems rational, necessary, or wise. From a distance it is comical, up close it is as likely to provoke tears of frustration. Hormone hell? Yeah, I still deal with it. I’ve got just 55 days now until I can ‘officially’ say I have ‘gone through menopause’. More hilarity; that doesn’t actually offer any real guarantee I won’t ever ever ever have a period, or that my hormones won’t turn some invisible corner and wreak havoc in my life for hours or days… just that it is less likely by far, and I am easily labelled ‘past my child-bearing years’. lol.  Not a great demonstration of medical precision. Still… 55 days left, and I am eager to be done with it.

A single raindrop doesn't say much about the weather.

A single raindrop doesn’t say much about the weather.

I’m excited that my partner returned from his getaway with restored enthusiasm for getting out into the world, into the wild, for hiking, camping, fishing… and I’m jealous, more than I want to share, more than seems fair.  I’d like to share those experience with him.  Arthritis. Knees. Ankle. I’m struggling with pain and mobility on a level that would likely make any sort of challenging hike not even a little bit fun for either of us to ‘enjoy’ together, at least for now.  The irony of it seems more than a little cruel to me. Damn, though, I love seeing him interested in something fun and energetic, and ‘all his own’. Newness and learning open the doors to fantastic conversation and connection; everyone needs to have their own thing, their own experiences, otherwise – what is there to ‘share’?

We serve love best when we are more than a reflection of each other.

We serve love best when we are more than a reflection of each other.

I approach life more fearlessly these days… which apparently has a down-side I had not anticipated.  For so many years I’ve kept my anger in check with fear… so… now what? It’s a scary question with some amount of urgency behind it because… I’m angry a lot.  I’d like to think not abusively so, but… anger is nasty shit. How is anger ever not at all abusive? I don’t know many people who don’t find someone else’s anger at least uncomfortable, and often ‘too much’ or ‘inappropriate’ to the circumstances or magnitude of the event. So… it’s now time to work on anger, and not just that, time to work on Anger, too. The big A. The anger that doesn’t die. The Anger that has festered over years. The Anger as a meta-emotion.  Rage. Fury. The thing that takes over and escapes my control; now is the time to unchain the beast and teach it some manners.

Stormy weather...

Stormy weather…

It’s a little scary to know that it’s time to face the Anger, best it, and move on to other things. Like a fearless hero in a legend, I am facing a foe and uncertain of the outcome – this is the big one. This is the demon I must conquer to take a next step to healing the worst damage, because that ‘worst damage’ to which I refer is the source and well-spring of that vast untamed sea of Anger. To set foot on that damaged shore, I must find a way to safely navigate that sea.

Vast, but sometimes not everything it appears to be.

Vast, but sometimes not everything it appears to be.

I wanted a more relaxed, gentle, calm weekend than the one I had, however as a student of life, and perpetually a beginner with practicing mindfulness, I value the lesson. I benefited from the opportunity to examine old problems from new angles.  I appreciate the real experience of being supported by my partner, and also seeing what that demands of my partner and that there may be more I can do for myself to alleviate the burden. A weekend with less easy delight and charm that I allowed myself to look forward to (and expectations are the motherfucker of all good times, without question), and a lot of intimacy, vulnerability and depth of connection, and opportunities to share, get close emotionally, and talk through hard stuff.  I’m inclined to call it a ‘great weekend’ in spite of the opportunities for tears.  Anyone taking the quantity of my tears personally, who wasn’t around in the 60s, 70s, and 80s is probably missing the point of my tears.

In general, life is quite lovely.

In general, life is quite lovely.

I miss my other partner, and it’ll be nice to have her home and hear her tales of adventure in the big city.  I allow myself to look forward to it with real delight, in spite of that wee demon whispering in my ear about things and other things.  We choose so much of our reality. Today is a good day to choose joy. Today is a good day to choose compassion. Today is a good day to remember – every time – that we are each having our own experience, and the irritability of that person over there (whoever, wherever) isn’t about us.

Perspective. Mindfulness. Sufficiency. Savoring the small delights more than I rail about the disappointments makes an important difference.

Perspective. Mindfulness. Sufficiency. Savoring the small delights more than I rail about the disappointments makes an important difference.

I feel pretty close to understanding something…

(I began this post last night, on the train as I rode home…)

Today I hurt. I want to write meaningfully, thoughtfully, and there’s plenty going on in everyday life that is noteworthy, thought-provoking, or warrants further consideration, perspective, and critical thought…but I may not have what it takes, tonight.

I’m grateful for this broken brain. Well, less so for the damaged bits, but in general very grateful; it serves most brain sorts of purposes nicely, and although it lets me down on some basics most people take for granted, it wows me in some ways that few are fortunate to share. So… yeah. Grateful.  This amazing brain keeps right on going, thinking, wondering, analyzing, imagining… long past the point of fatigue.  The creative thing is awesome. Words are fun. Numbers, too. Emotions are also slowly becoming more of a playground than a trap, or betrayal.

Today I hurt. There are things to understand, and although they’ll wait if they must, it isn’t ideal. There are decisions, choices, opportunities, challenges… brain at the ready… but I hurt and I lose focus again and again with the pain.  I worry about my knees… even to extremes, wondering if the end of walking is on the horizon.  I take some deep breaths, I keep right on walking – slowly, with a cane – because if I wake up tomorrow unable to walk, I would surely regret not walking today.

Pain is such a personal thing. I don’t take many steps to ensure that people around me get it, really understand that I am hurting. I expect to be able to simple call it out once and have that be ‘enough’. That only works for strangers, though. People closer tend to forget in minutes or hours, because we’re having a good time, or because I’m in a good mood.  I can’t see letting the pain make the rules all the time.  I’ve learned something over the years, too; everyone hurts, and everyone’s pain is simply the worst they can imagine.  Pain is not a friend of cognition, and while I may be able to salvage a good mood out of a day of hurting, between the pain itself and the medication for it, my senses and my intellect are blunted. I generally work on as little medication as possible… and because it is work, and I am a professional, I don’t say much about it.  It seems weak to bitch (that’s my own baggage). I hurt, but I think better than if I were heavily medicated and didn’t hurt. lol. What a choice.

Choices. I know more about what I need over time, what I want – what I want, without regard to the desires of others, and in the context of my own values, my own needs, my own particular singular dream of a good life, based on sufficiency, contentment, and quiet joy. Getting there isn’t difficult because of the costliness of what I want and need, myself. Getting there is difficult because we human primates are as different one from another as we are similar, and I’m only just learning to set clear rational boundaries, and to observe and respect the boundaries of others.  It’s a new-ish thing for me to both have an awareness of what I really want/need in life – and also have a clear awareness of what is in my way.  (Which is predictably useful information to have, on both counts.) Newer still to be able to recognize, acknowledge, and even embrace what others want and need, and understand what I may be doing that could come across as ‘being in their way’.

I’m tired. I hurt. I want to write, and I urgently need to finish thinking some things through and make a clear choice and follow through on it.  Have you ever observed how much more difficult that can be when the choice that seems most obvious carries with it some short-term negative experience?  Choosing pain – even to experience profound positive changes – is difficult. I know pain hurts.  Pain is quite a deterrent.

If I were offered many millions of dollars – and in return I would have my back and arm broken, a skull fracture, my ankle shattered, and oh… migraines, perhaps – would I take the deal? I’m betting if I had experienced those pains it would be much harder to go for those millions, while if I had never experienced those sorts of pain, I likely would opt in for the cash pretty quickly.  I have not applied the scientific method to these musings, I’m just saying; it seems likely based on what I know of myself, and my human experience.

An uncompleted post. A night of uncomfortable sleep. The dawn of a new day.

An uncompleted post. A night of uncomfortable sleep. The dawn of a new day.

I finished the evening with yoga, meditation, and crafting a birthday gift for my mother, after dinner out with my partner, who is headed to NYC later this morning for a few days reconnecting with friends and family.  The meal was excellent and the service exceptional. What made the meal was definitely the company and the conversation. The remaining hours were spent gently; my knee just didn’t allow for more energetic recreation, and my evenings are usually chill time for study, writing, and quiet conversation, anyway.  The pain didn’t change those things.

I woke this morning, after a strange night of dreamless, but brief sleep. I didn’t really ‘get sleepy’ until far into the wee hours, and woke ahead of the alarm by 44 minutes. I don’t feel especially fatigued by the short night, and I’m hopeful that I’ll be alert and still feeling sufficiently rested to enjoy my other partner’s homecoming from the his wilderness adventure. I’m eager to hear about it. Eager to share my own experience.

Right at the moment, life feels very good – and it feels very genuine. It’s a feeling and a context in which I thrive.

Simple things matter so much.

Simple things matter so much.

Today is a good day to smile back, and a good day to be kind. Today is a good day to step boldly into the world, open to adventure. Today is a good day for love, compassion, and joy. Today is a good day to change the world.

Questions, answers, and a hot cup of coffee.  The morning is off to a sluggish and disorganized beginning; my routine is upended by a partner going off on a short holiday in the wilderness with family and friends; I got up much earlier than usual to make coffee, help load the car, and drop him at the rendezvous point. There’s a certain quality to arrivals and departures that seems to be unique to those occasions, and I didn’t hesitate to opt in to the early morning ritual of checking the packing, making sure nothing is missed, figured out what was missed, retrieving it, and eventually – kisses good-bye. It was chill and intimate time, connecting and holding on to a precious ‘now’ moment, savoring love and sharing the morning.

4:00 am is early.

4:00 am is early.

I’m very appreciative of my morning coffee. I slept poorly; sleeping only once everyone else had truly settled into slumber themselves, and waking earlier than I planned to by the restless stirrings of my partner, excited about the trip, and wakeful ahead of schedule. I figure I managed enough to survive the day more or less comfortably; about 3 hours. The coffee is a big deal this morning. I made 4 shots of espresso, in a cup, with a bit of molasses. Fancy was not necessary. lol

The Menopause Countdown continues, and I’ve never been more relieved than when I am watching my other partner struggle with Hormone Hell. I’m ready to be done with that. Yesterday was day 305… 60 days to go and I can officially say I’m ‘past menopause’.  Truth is, though, it’s been 305 days without screaming at everyone around me unexpectedly over bullshit approximately every 21-32 days.  Had I know how much more pleasant life would be without all that, I’d have asked to have my damned ovaries removed years ago!! I suppose that’s rather more than necessarily radical, but if you don’t have the experience, how do you know if I’m being too extreme? It is what it is, though, and what it is – for me – is almost over.

My other partner heads ‘back home’ this week, herself, to recharge with family and old friends back home.  It makes sense. She hasn’t been home in a while and the timing is good.

Spring, simple, and sufficient.

Spring, simple, and sufficient.

I don’t quite have that ‘back home’ attachment to a place. I miss old friends, and yearn for a good opportunity to travel and hang out and reconnect across the distance of years by closing the geographical distance, but this is a ‘taking care of me’ area I am not good at. It’s been about 11 years since I took a step on the other coast, where my family lives. I’ve never seen my niece – 13? 14? – in person*. I last saw my Mother at my Father’s memorial, more than a decade ago. Close old friends live far away, too, and it has been as long or longer since I’ve seen them.  It is time, too, for me to journey ‘back home’ to reconnect and recharge…but other needs are a higher priority, and I am learning to make choices that meet my long-term needs over time.  It’s a complicated puzzle. I know making time to connect with friends and family is important… I’m always eager to encourage my partners and dear ones to make time to see their far away friends and family, how is it that I suck so much at making the time to do it, myself?

I find myself looking at a different question in a moment of inspiration – “What is it about not making time for distant friends and family that seems to meet my current needs more than making that time would meet my needs?” Aha. I don’t have an answer – but that’s a new question. 🙂

Another perspective, a different question.

Another perspective, a different question.

So, a quiet Wednesday morning unfolding, a second cup of coffee, and plenty of time to meditate and simply be. It’s enough.

 

*So…my sister reached out during the day and observed with some amusement that not only have I met my niece in person, we hung out and she remembers it clearly; it was at my Dad’s memorial, so perhaps overlooking the embarrassing failure to recollect such a precious moment can be forgiven, but… yeah. Totally embarrassed, because of course I remember it as soon as I am reminded! Still human. 🙂