Archives for category: Spring
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Hot & Cold

March 18, 2022 //
1

Well, it’s not COVID but I’m sick. I guess I’m glad it isn’t COVID. I’ve got the weekend ahead of me to get over whatever it is. My coffee is hot. I slept in…sort of. I didn’t sleep well, and I was restless and woke several times drenched in sweat, and feeling woozy (either from the cold remedies or from being ill – doesn’t much matter which, really). I sit for a moment, fussing quietly with the other monitor, looking for background content… I settle for the sound of rain.

The day ahead is about taking care of this peculiar flesh container a human being occupies during a mortal lifetime… I’ll probably spend much of the day in bed, or bundled up on the couch, dozing off, reading, watching undemanding video content, and making a point to drink plenty of fluids. I’ve no particular appetite, but managing healthy calories seems wise, too. My Traveling Partner made some excellent iced tea… that sounds pretty good… maybe after coffee…?

It’s the end of winter. Spring is just ahead. I’ve got wee garden primroses and grape hyacinth’s blooming, and the neighbor’s daffodils and hyacinths are blooming in her front garden. The roses have all begin putting out new leaves, and swelling with new branches and new shoots ready to burst forth. I’d share pictures – but I’ve no energy for going out and taking them. (I’m probably too old for whining like a kid about being sick and miserable, but here I am. Thanks for putting up with it.)

I feel the ache in my spine – I confirm it’s a rainy day by looking outside. I barely give it another thought, just pull my posture upright in response to the sight of the rainy day beyond the window; slumping over my keyboard would only make the arthritis pain worse, and also make it harder to breath. Self-care has so damned many details… sometimes I really struggle with it. I sit for a moment and contemplate this. I’m pretty sure a great many people struggle with maintaining good self-care. I sip my coffee and wonder why that is. I don’t really get anywhere with it, it’s just thoughts over coffee.

…Another sip of coffee… I think about a bite to eat, and reject the idea. I just don’t have the energy. I stare into my half-full cup of coffee; I’m not doing a great job of drinking it, actually. No loss of my sense of taste, so far, I just… don’t care. The ennui of illness. “No spoons“. That’s explained really well in this video by the woman who created the spoon analogy, herself.

…I sit here (sat here) listening to the rain fall in the video. (“Silly woman,” I think to myself, “you could just open the fucking curtains and see it raining outside for real.”) I sigh. Coffee’s gone cold. Still half a cup sitting here. I glance at the clock… 40 minutes gone, and only this handful of words, mindless rambling, and complaining about a head cold. I shrug it off; it may not be great content, but it’s real, and it’s my experience, and I fucking showed up for it… more or less. lol

No idea what I’m going to manage out of the day, but I suppose, like it or not, it’s time to begin again. Maybe with a fresh cup of coffee… maybe with a shower… maybe I’ll just go back to bed. 🙂

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Categories Allegories, anhedonia, breathe, health, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Sleepless Nights, Spring

Not Quite 3 AM

March 17, 2022 //
2

I’m okay. Just awake, for a moment. It’s nothing.

I think I have already picked up a head cold, following the local relaxing of mask requirements. A sneeze woke me. I will go back to sleep after I finish this glass of water, and take some cold medicine.

My conveniently timed appointment with my therapist yesterday was helpful. I don’t necessarily feel any lighter of heart, but I feel that I understand myself a bit more. I’m not being so hard on myself, as a result. That actually helps. Be kind to yourself and the people around you. These are difficult times.

I got a walk in, after my appointment. Shared lunch with my Traveling Partner. Made a point to meditate. Now, here, in these quiet wee hours of morning, mind soft and open, and not feeling pressed for time, or under attack by “everything”, I am making time to write, and reflect. Feels good to take better care of the woman in the mirror.

Spring is almost here, again, already. It’s definitely a good time to begin again.

Spring flowers in the garden.

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Categories Anxiety, Brain Injury, Healthy Living, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Sleepless Nights, Spring, War and News of War

How Many Minutes Does It Take To Be Happy?

March 15, 2022 //
0

It’s a dumb question, isn’t it? It’s probably clear that this is not “how happiness works”. There’s no minimum investment in time required, there’s no proper single process with a reliable outcome. There is this “now”, these fleeting minutes of time, and an assortment of practices to choose from.

…It’s been more than a month, I think, since I last wrote anything here. Aside from a couple of note cards sent to family or friends recently, I haven’t written at all. I’ve overlooked personal correspondence to friends pretty much completely. Every minute of chat or idle conversation with anyone who isn’t my partner feels sort of stolen from the limited time we share with each other (even though we’re together very nearly 24/7)… or from time I’m paid to spend on work. 40 hours of life gone, right off the top. Those are not my minutes.

…Some days it feels like literally everyone wants a fucking piece of me, and nothing much is left over. I already know this is, in part, self-imposed and perhaps also a bit of an illusion caused by the additional emotional pressure and background stress caused (for me) by simmering threat of global conflict. The cold war no longer feels like the distant past, for sure. Subjectively, I feel like I “can’t get a break”. The only activity that seems to sooth that stress is meditation, or… just sitting still, alone, quiet. There are so few minutes to spare for that… because there is all this other shit to do: housekeeping, grocery shopping, budget keeping, errand running, meetings at work, don’t forget to make that call, appointments to make, to keep, to get to, fuck – aquarium maintenance! There doesn’t really seem to be an end; it’s life. The minutes – and the tasks – just keep coming. (Sit still for a minute and sooner or later someone will come along with something that needs to be done “since you’re not doing anything”.) Even hitting that “pause button” for a few minutes of meditation barely takes the edge off, at this point. It’s not a good place to be.

Today, in the middle of an ordinary work day, tears started falling. Just… yeah. The HRT? Maybe the anxiety? Did I take my allergy meds? Did I overlook my vitamin D? Have I had enough water to drink? Am I being sufficiently kind to myself? Is “all this” really worth all the stress and feeling of pressure? Am I doing it to myself 100%? Is there a way to get off this fucking treadmill???

I set a timer. 15 minutes. I am sitting with my thoughts and a few minutes to write, and reflect. I figure I deserve that from me. Me first, for just a fucking minute or two.

Chat…text…email…phone…Zoom… ping! ping! ping! ping! …Don’t let it distract me from that one thing I’m trying my damnedest to focus on…

“Fuck, I’m tired.” Sure, maybe. I think so… but it’s not really that, is it? If not that, then what? I’ve got that weird jones to “just walk away from everything, completely”. That, my friends, is not a “mood” or a legitimate sense of initiative unfulfilled. Nope. It’s a symptom of mental illness. I’m on the edge of too much and feeling the imminent threat over being entirely overwhelmed. Yes, better self-care is absolutely required, potentially urgently. I feel grateful that I’ve got an appointment with my therapist tomorrow, and a loving partner to go home to at the end of my day. I miss hanging out with friends. I miss being easily able to “keep track” of all the details of what is right in front of me day-to-day. I miss “easy”. When was that…? Ever?

Sometimes adulting is hard.

“Ding!” goes the timer. Back on the treadmill… I check my calendar, check my hair, click the Zoom link and smile for the camera.

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Frustration, grief, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Sleepless Nights, Spring, War and News of War

No Words

June 19, 2021 //
0

I’m sipping my morning coffee on a sunny summery Saturday. No firm plans, no clear expectations; just me, this coffee, and this morning moment with my thoughts.

It’s expected to be a hot day. I won’t want to go for a walk in the heat of the afternoon. I think over where I might like to walk this morning… my thoughts are still fuzzy with “just woke up” fog and imprecision. Right now? Walking doesn’t even sound pleasant; my knee aches, my ankle aches, and my back hurts.

…Oh hey – no headache (right now)! Win!

My tomato plants are growing tall, and strong, and they are blooming plentifully. My Traveling Partner suggested yesterday that they be moved a bit further apart (realistic potential because they are planted in garden bags with handles, and can be moved with care). Maybe I’ll do that today… before it gets too hot…?

I picked strawberries from the garden on Thursday. So yummy! Fully ripe. Fresh. Delicious little bites of summer. There are a few left, and there are more on the plants, ripening in the sun. It’s a small plot of strawberries, and likely will be finished for the year before July ends. I think about putting a narrow raised bed along the opposite side of the step-stone walkway along which the strawberries are planted, into which I could plant more… maybe next year?

There is so much potential in this one human lifetime. So many choices. So many paths on which to travel into an unknown future… I don’t have much more going on than these musings this morning. It’s enough. 🙂 There’s this whole sunny day ahead, and so much potential…

…Time for a second coffee, and a new beginning. 🙂

Fresh. Out of so many, how do I choose? 🙂
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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Spring, Summer

Turn Another Page

June 14, 2021 //
0

I’m nearly at the end of an entire year here in this “home” place. My birthday passed gently, uneventfully, and infused with a certain chill bliss that I don’t think I can put into words – but it was everything I wanted for my birthday, and more (in a sense, by being less! lol). There are tomatoes growing in garden pots. Roses planted in the front landscaping, and nasturtiums sprouting in the flower bed under the kitchen window. The quieter environment that resulted from the acoustic treatments has eased so much tension day-to-day. The lighting changes my Traveling Partner made tend to ease my frequent headaches, and lighten my mood. Waking is easier without an alarm clock, and I’m pleased that I can rely on the changing light – a programmed sunrise – to wake me gently. I’m not cross with the world first thing in the mornings. It’s pleasant.

Time passes. Sometimes I notice. Mostly I don’t. It gets away from me. I don’t take that so personally lately. 🙂

Is there still a pandemic going on? Well…sure, there is; the world isn’t even 50% vaccinated yet. I’m okay with continuing to be cautious, personally, although I’m vaccinated myself. I admit; I really like not having a fucking head cold every other month. lol Still… things seem to be improving in our area, and more folks are out and about in the world, doing things, seeing people, shopping. I found myself “stuck in traffic” for the first time in this new community just yesterday.

…Is it still a “new community” if I’m nearly a year into living here? lol It still feels new; it’s been a year of staying home. Pandemics are weird.

I still have “ups and downs”. My Traveling Partner, too; he’s walking his own hard mile, as a human being. (Aren’t we all?) The pandemic was hard on us as lovers, we’re not alone in that experience – and frankly, I’m sure there were a lot of folks who had it much much worse. We’re fortunate that we really enjoy each other as human beings, and we’re friends. It gets us through some challenges, for sure. 🙂 I’m pretty fond of that human being living with me.

Here I am… 58. Doesn’t feel much different than, say, 47, or 35, or … yeah, even 27 doesn’t seem that different through the lens of remembered experiences. I feel like the same “self” – which is hilarious, considering how much I’ve changed. Would 27 year old me even like this woman I am now? Would she “get it”? Would she embrace the values I’ve embraced? Would she understand the changes I’ve chosen? The direction I’ve gone in life? Could we talk together as intimate friends about our journey, our choices, our changes? Would there be unresolved anger or “old business” that we’d need to work out? Would we even want to connect as individuals – or is there too much distance and time between us? Would she think me “old” or “out of touch”? Would I see her as young, ignorant, and foolish about taking risks? Are we really “the same person” at all? Probably not, in a great many very important ways, and still also entirely this one human being, living this one peculiarly complicated life, as the years roll by.

So, it’s time to turn the page on another year of living. I’m okay with that. It’s been a strangely eventful year, counting the days from one birthday to the next. Bought a house. Moved. Changed jobs. Discovered new places. Discovered new music. Discovered new depths to this love I share with my Traveling Partner. Healed some old wounds. Re-opened others. Walked new trails. Traveled roads I’d never traveled before. Found “my way” more often than I found myself lost.

I can say, comfortably and without hesitation these days, I like this woman I have become over time. That’s a pretty big deal… it has required quite a few beginnings to get to this place, and I’ve stumbled on my own baggage more times than I can count. It’s gotten to be pretty comfortable to pick myself back up, and simply begin again. It’s not personal; it’s my journey. 🙂 It could sure be worse.

My coffee is almost gone, and although my partner is no farther away that the other side of a closed door, I find myself missing him… it must be time to begin again. 🙂

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Spring, The Art of Being
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