Archives for category: The Big 5

I get to the trailhead as a drenching rain begins to fall. Weather reports have identified the system passing through as an “atmospheric river”, and the temperature is mild (almost warm), and the rain has been frequent and sometimes quite heavy (as it is now), but this won’t last and it’s still dark outside. I can wait for a break in the rain.

I consider reading the news as I wait, but my news feed is filled with obvious slop and clickbait. I have no interest in “mental junk food”. The content we consume (in whatever medium, from whatever feed or channel) really matters. If we become what we practice, then it seems both reasonable and likely that our media consumption will change our thinking over time based on quantity and frequency (“practice”) – and with very little consideration of the quality or truth or accuracy of the content. (I say “likely” , but it has been pretty well tested and demonstrated that this is the case.) It has been shown that if repeated often enough the stupidest lies may begin to be believed. Politicians and advertisers count on it.

Your attention (and mine) has real (monetary) value to platforms, apps, and media companies. Those clicks and views are worth so much that any strategy seems fair (remember Facebook manipulating users’ emotions by making algorithmic changes to see what kinds of content get more views and engagement? remember Cambridge Analytica?). This hints at the potential that any one piece of media content in any format may be poorly fact-checked, or deliberately false or misleading. Just for your attention. Your interests are not being served in any sincere way; you have to look out for those yourself.

I do my best to protect myself from time-wasting or potentially damaging content. It’s not reliably obvious sometimes and I’ve settled on some basic questions about articles and videos to help me sort it out (and am fortunate to be able to count on truly important matters to reach me through my Traveling Partner and friends who have shared values, even when I don’t look at the news at all). Here are the questions I use to evaluate quality content:

  1. Does it rely on a clickbait headline to get your attention? (I avoid these.)
  2. Is it fact-based with citations provided, or an opinion piece? (I avoid opinion pieces, for many reasons.)
  3. Who wrote it? What qualifications do they have on the topic? (I avoid AI “authorship”, and writers of poor quality or poisonous content.)
  4. Who paid for the piece? (Why did they want it written? How does it serve their interests?)
  5. What is the purpose of the piece? (Is it factually accurate? Is it seeking to distract or mislead?)
  6. Who gets the most benefit from swaying readers to this opinion or understanding? (Where are they geographically located? Is the topic directly relevant to the goals of some special interest? Is this made explicitly clear?)
  7. Is the piece filled with affiliate links or banner ads? (I’m just not going to be subjected to that, and will block the source, the whole channel or platform, if it is common strategy there.)

The quality of what we fill our minds and time with really matters. I’d rather rewatch episodes of South Park than waste my time on some affiliate link filled misleading clickbait AI slop. (South Park is often surprisingly deep and usually very socially relevant.) Sure, it can be tempting to reach for a piece of candy or swing through the fast food drive through… but it can’t be called nutritious or healthy. It’s a pretty good analogy. I sit thinking about it for a few minutes.

The rain stops. I grab my cane and throw on my rain poncho as I step out of the car. I stretch and breathe the rain-fresh air. Daybreak soon. I start down the trail.

I get to my halfway point. The trail is soggy and I am grateful to have missed stepping in the puddles. The bench I like to sit on is wet, but the rain poncho makes a dry place to sit. I sigh contentedly. I am feeling rested and unbothered, which is a nice change from recent mornings. I start to think about work, but it’s not yet time for that, and I let it go. This time is for me.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I give myself time to reflect with gratitude on the things going well – like having more of my Traveling Partner’s help around the house as he continues to recover and grow strong again. I feel so much more capable and effective with his help than I do struggling to try to get it all done alone. I’m grateful to have a job that pays the bills and grateful for the cozy and safe house we call home. As this or that aggravation surfaces in my thoughts, I throw an “and I’m grateful that…” on the end of that thought, and defuse my irritation with acknowledgement of some detail that has value, and for which I am sincerely grateful. (Example: the rent on our storage unit has gone up, again, and I’m annoyed to have to move all that stuff to somewhere more affordable… And I’m grateful to have many local options to choose from, even on short notice, making it feasible.)

I sigh a bit impatiently. I am legitimately annoyed to have to do a storage move on a tight budget right before the fucking holidays. There really are other (better) things I could be doing with my time, effort, and resources, but greed doesn’t take holidays – it exploits them. I inhale the fresh morning air, filling my lungs, and exhale slowly, letting my irritation go with my breath. Better. Circumstances are what they are, and we make the best decisions we can to deal with them.

Daybreak comes. The sound of HVAC units on top of buildings some distance away mingles with the sound of my tinnitus until I’m no longer certain which I’m listening to. It is a new day, full of new possibilities and opportunities, and new chances to make doing my best a little better than it was yesterday.

… I guess it’s time to get started on that new beginning. I look down the path as a sprinkling of rain begins to fall. I smile to myself in the darkness, and begin again.

The first hints of daybreak touch the sky as the rain starts again. I waited out the darkness, after getting to the trailhead early (so early). It was raining, then, and may be raining when I finally start walking. I don’t know. It’s not the most important detail.

Daybreak on a rainy autumn morning.

My mind is cluttered and full of chaos. I half-woke ridiculously early, to the sound of my aggravated Traveling Partner swearing about something (probably about being awake). Some brief time later, (minutes or seconds, I don’t know), he specifically wakes me to check on me. I get up to pee, just to be certain I could just go back to sleep and not have biology waking me prematurely in another hour or two. The next couple of hours pass restlessly; I’d fall asleep, be wakened by some noise or other, and drop off again. At some point I remember beginning, finally, to sink into a really deep sleep. “At last,” I remember thinking contentedly, “sleep. Real sleep.” I woke again, when my Traveling Partner went back to bed. Fuck. I knew I wouldn’t go back to sleep, even as tired as I was. I could feel my brain getting going, preparing for a new day, and I was suddenly aware of an owl hooting loudly somewhere nearby. G’damn it. I went ahead and got up, dressed, and left the house.

… How the absolute fuck is my sleep this g’damned bad even after all these years and so much careful practice, good sleep hygiene, treating my apnea, adding a  noise masking device to my sleep space… Part of me wants to be really angry about this – but part of me recognizes that the anger itself only further impairs healthy rest (for me). I let it go, but resolve to ask my beloved to please just not wake me when I’m sleeping unless there is some emergency. I’ve got to get some fucking sleep (and I know he understands, as someone with sleep challenges, himself). I rarely have the opportunity to go back to bed later on, and get that lost rest. Working a full-time corporate job really limits that potential.

This morning I’m very tired, my head aches, and my eyes feel gritty. I have errands to run, and a business trip to prepare for.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. The morning is a bleak foreboding gray. I listen to the geese overhead, and the tinnitus in my ears. This morning the tinnitus is so annoying that if I thought pithing myself with an ice pick might be helpful in a practical way, I’d probably do it. (Do not do that!!) My tinnitus definitely gets worse and louder over time as I lose sleep. I remind myself that tonight is another night, tomorrow another day; this will pass.

I sip the hot (now only warm) coffee I picked up at the gas station on my way out of town after filling the gas tank. It’s a genuinely bad cup of coffee, acidic and somehow vaguely sludgy. It’s still coffee. Who the hell knows how long real coffee will still even be available? Instead of pouring it out wastefully because it’s terrible, I sip it slowly, letting the caffeine (and the ritual of morning coffee) do its work. I stay in the moment, present, aware, sipping this coffee and appreciating that I have it. Dawn comes. A new day. I’m cross and tired and vexed by physical pain. I look down the trail irritably, aware that I’ll likely feel better on the other side of my walk, in spite of the lack of sleep, and I’m stupidly also managing to be annoyed about that (which just makes no damned sense).

… I try not to dwell on this fucking headache or my arthritis pain…

I look back over my writing, checking for spelling mistakes and incoherence. (Huh. I bitch too much.) I sigh to myself, impatient with my very human limitations. I stretch and grab my cane and my rain poncho. All I can do is my best, and that path begins right here, now, in this moment. It’s time to begin again, again.

The “cold moon” supermoon is overhead. I can’t see it, tucked behind clouds, but the light shines through thinner clouds. I look up now and then, as I walk the dark marsh trail before dawn. It’s not quite enough to light the way. I carry my headlamp in my hand, enough light to see the trail escapes from between my fingers to create a pattern of light on the ground that swings and bobs with my steps. It’s enough.

I get to my halfway point thinking about sufficiency, and too much, and not enough, and fretting a bit about the cost of everything. I make a point to remind myself how good I do have it, in practical terms, in most ways. I’m fortunate and I am grateful. Life could be a lot worse – I’ve been there, too.

The morning is mild and quiet. I have the trail to myself. Some of that is about my choices; I’m here at an hour few people are even awake on a Saturday morning. I also benefit from pure chance and the decisions of others; there are some people who also walk the trail very early. They aren’t here this morning. I guess what I’m saying is that our circumstances are a combination of happenstance and choices. We don’t really know what’s going on with other people that has created a hardship for them, so perhaps best not to be a jerk about such things, eh?

I sigh quietly in the darkness. I think about the day ahead, a busy one for a Saturday. Next week, too. I’ve got a business trip down to the corporate office. The timing is not ideal, and I wonder why I didn’t consider it more carefully when the trip was being planned? Choices. Circumstances. Tis the season to feel like there’s too much going on, and not enough time for everything.

Yesterday’s work shift was a long one. Minutes into the commute home, I was in traffic, stuck at a signal light, waiting as the cars crept forward one by one, and only one car getting through each time the light changed. I managed to avoid losing my temper. My Traveling Partner messaged me about how far the slowdown extended, which was helpful. He handled dinner, and kept it warm for me, until I got home. It felt like pure luxury and true love to come home to dinner, and not be the person making it. I even had enough energy left to fold some laundry that my beloved had done, and prepare for a holiday event that will be later today. (Vending some items my Traveling Partner makes in his shop. I’m hoping it is worthwhile.) It could all have felt like too much, instead I had my partner’s help. That made a huge difference in my experience of the evening. (Note to self; definitely ask for help when you need it – and accept it graciously when offered.)

Lately life often feels like “too much”, and my resources for dealing with it feel like not enough. It’s… ordinary. Just a variety of human experience. Sometimes we are burdened with too much (or it feels that way), sometimes our resources (time, money, emotional resilience…) are not enough, or it seems so in the moment. Perspective helps. I sit with my thoughts. I have lived through real hardship and privation. This is not that. I have survived trauma and endured misfortune – but I’m here, now. I did get through it. There will be hard times. For the moment, things are okay for most values of “okay”, and I’m managing to avoid blowing things out of proportion. Helpful. With the economy in the shape it’s in, in such uncertain times, we’ve made a choice to scale back a lot of holiday spending. A lot. But I’ve had leaner Giftmases with fewer resources in worse circumstances… I’m grateful for what I have, and what I can provide my family.

Enough is enough. Even embracing sufficiency is a practice. And when I’m feeling overwhelmed? Boundary setting and careful decision-making are useful tools… when I remember to practice them!  I chuckle to myself. If, of all the world’s suffering, I could remove only that suffering that is self-imposed or chosen, I suspect it would clear up by far most of the suffering going on. It’s an interesting thought. It hints at real relief through actions we can reasonably take for ourselves as individuals, without suggesting anything as unrealistic as no suffering ever.

When I feel overwhelmed by my list of shit to do? That’s me. That’s self-imposed. I could choose differently, change the timing or reset expectations, ask for help, or…say “no”. That’s just one example of one way to restore the balance between demands and resources, in one mortal human life. There are others. Limited resources? Make more (meaning objects or goods), buy less. Do more reading and less subscribing and online shopping. It’s not everything. Sometimes our limitations are life or health threatening, and that’s a bigger scarier problem to face. It’s still going to be helpful to take those steps we can. Incremental changes add up. Our choices matter.

The early moments of a new day.

Daybreak comes. The sky begins to lighten. I can hear traffic from the highway adjacent to the park, on the far side of the marsh. I sit awhile, remembering tougher times, and reflecting on my life. I enjoy this solitary time for reflection and meditation. I try to recall why I was ever cranky about getting such an early start… I know I once was, but I can’t recall why. I cherish this precious time on some trail, walking with my thoughts, waiting for the sun to rise again.

I think about my beloved Traveling Partner, sleeping at home. I remind myself to fold the laundry he did yesterday. It’s nice having help with chores and household care again. I’m definitely going to miss him while I’m away next week… Just the thought, and suddenly I miss him right now, too. Silly human primate.

I’m startled by a splash in the marsh pond behind me. Ducks? Geese? Nutria? I only see ripples on the water. A spattering of rain begins to fall. I get to my feet. It’s time to begin again.

I’m sipping my coffee slowly, after realizing I sat down and started my work day without taking time for me, at all. This is strange behavior (for me), and likely a byproduct of lingering background stress, which seems mostly pretty pointless, and perhaps a bit ridiculous.

It’s a very human experience to be mired in stress that is “inherited” (as from another person’s stress) or “opted-into” (as with becoming stressed by choices to read or consume specific media known to cause stress, and possibly little else), or even illusory (or delusional, as with hand-crafted personalized internal nonsense that just isn’t “real” in any practical sense). Then, of course, there’s all the real stress that may be simmering in the background of an individual human experience…commuting…cost of living…lack of means or resources…some momentary hardship or disaster…the risk of any of these being imminent… Although there are definitely practices that can effectively reduce stress (a lot), feeling stress is part of the human experience. It’s pretty non-negotiable. Sooner or later, a human primate experiences stress. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I sign out of my work tools, and “look away” for a few minutes of self-reflection, meditation, and self-care.

Lately, I’ve been pretty chronically feeling (and responding to) stress day-to-day, more than I had been, for awhile. Some of it is cultural; I’m responding to what so many of us are responding to, because it’s part of our shared experience of watching American democracy struggle. Pretty terrifying shit, and I guess being stressed about it, at least somewhat, is “rational stress”, but it isn’t helpful to become mired in it, or to let it consume my precious mortal lifetime. Then there’s the “work stress”, but that is also pretty routine ordinary shit; I’m new in the role, and still feel a sense that I need to “prove myself” – but this is self-inflicted stress, and I could safely less this go… by letting it go. lol There is an act of willful self-care and discipline involved in releasing that kind of stress. The way out is through, and taking time for self-reflection, and for practices like “taking in the good” are going to be useful for this. The stress sourcing from “home stuff” is a strange stress smoothie of unrelated things: increasing costs, reduced resources, a vague unsettled feeling of job insecurity (a byproduct of being laid off a couple of times after relatively short time in various roles), things I’m behind on but really want to get done, and something I hadn’t anticipated at all – some stress around the changes in my Traveling Partner’s abilities, as his healing progresses. As stressed as I was trying to provide full-time caregiving while also working full-time, I had expected it to dissipate when that caregiving was no longer a massive day-to-day nearly continuous requirement. It hasn’t. Quite the contrary, I’m potentially a bit more stressed working to stay up-to-date with his changing capabilities and needs. I can’t assume his abilities or needs are the same as yesterday. It pushes me out of “auto-pilot”. I can’t really build a routine based on expectations of his needs. Things change and shift with each day, and I’m doing my best, but feel (often) as though I’m just a step behind on everything, all the time. Being fully present is a good thing, and healthy relationships need that presence and connection to thrive. Being fully present is also more work. I sometimes find myself overwhelmed by how much I’m trying to keep track of.

I’m not bitching, I’m simply taking a moment to examine where “all this stress” is coming from – so I can more effectively address any portion of it, at all. It adds up. I sit with my thoughts and my coffee, reflecting on life, love, work, and being human.

I give myself over to a moment of gratitude. There is so much right in my life, giving too much of my attention to the things that may be less than ideal seems wasteful and foolhardy (and a serious bummer).

I look at my hands when I feel my fingertips gently pass over a snagged cuticle, feeling the rough edge of it. The sensation distracts me. I stop myself from pulling at it. This, too, requires presence and discipline. The condition of my fingertips tells the tale of my background stress and general emotional wellness. I set myself a challenge; just for today, don’t pick at my fingertips at all. Just one day. I can do that, right? I think it over, and wonder if I really can. Brain damage and nervous tics and things of that sort don’t work the way a “bad habit” does, but the same “rules” often apply; we become what we practice. If I can practice not fucking biting my nails and tearing up my cuticles, it’s quite likely the behavior may be extinguished… eventually. I may need to replace the physical experience (the actions of the behavior itself) with something else that satisfies the signals reaching (or not reaching) my brain. I think about that, too. I’ve been having some success with a “worry stone”, when watching videos. I’ll keep practicing.

I hear a short bit of a song in my head. Again. It’s been there for days, now. It occurs to me that it may be percolating up from within, a message from me to myself to put attention on reducing my stress before it becomes a problem with serious consequences. I’ve been trying to figure out what song it is for days, because the only thing I hear in my head is the refrain, “Soothe me, Baby, soothe me. Soothe me with your kindness…” Sam and Dave. Finally figured it out. Yeah, it’s a funny little stress response, and not the first time song lyrics “speak to me” in some direct meaningful way.

Tis the season, isn’t it? Are you managing your stress sufficiently well? Have you identified where it may be coming from, in order to more easily deal with it? Are you running from it instead, and hoping for the best? Are you choosing to numb yourself with intoxicants, instead of dealing with it at all? Are you hoping it will go away if you ignore it? Have you started a meditation practice to help you manage your stress – or abandoned one because you feel you have no time for it? I’m of the opinion that life should not (ideally) feel like a hamster wheel. I prefer life to feel like a walk on a well-maintained path, myself, but that isn’t always the experience I have. I chuckle to myself; reality does not care a bit about my opinions, and never has.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s time to begin. Again. I’ll start by managing my stress with gratitude, self-care, and a plan.

Why bother? Why bother trying? Why bother working so hard? Why bother “fighting it”? Why bother making the extra effort to get some particular outcome? Just… why bother, at all? The shortest answer for that one that I’ve got, myself, is simply this; because I’m better than the challenge I’m faced with right now. That’s it.

Things could be worse, for just about any of us. Some momentary challenge is not enough to amount to an excuse not to make an effort to do a better job of being the person I most want to be, to live a good quality life built on healthy values lived authentically, and to just maybe also manage to be helpful, kind, encouraging, curious, compassionate, approachable, considerate, thoughtful, fair-minded, and ethical (if not every minute of every day, then doing my best to be these things in as many moments as I realistically can be)… these are all qualities I value. So… I try. I practice. I share honest insights into my challenges. I work on bettering myself and contributing positively to my household, my community, and my world, if only in some small way. I mean, seriously? I’m one woman; I’m not moving any mountains by myself with a teaspoon, and determination. Not in this lifetime. My actions and choices of words still make a difference in the moments I live and in my interactions with others. I try to stay mindful of the implied power this does have, and do my best to be a basically decent human being, day-to-day. Don’t you? (If not, why not? The answer to that question is an exercise for the reader.)

Holiday lights at 04:30.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s a new day. I woke at some ridiculous hour – 3 am? Maybe. I didn’t check the time, I just wanted to sleep. I could hear my Traveling Partner awake in the other room, blowing his nose. It sucks that he’s awake dealing with his sinuses and struggling to breathe. I fall asleep, wishing he could sleep, too. Some time later, I’m awakened again. It sounded as if my beloved was clearing his throat and blowing his nose right outside the door. I know that’s not the case. He’s most likely seated at the dining table, which is at the end of the hall, opposite the door to this bedroom. The sound is basically piped straight to the door. I sigh, and roll over, and return to sleep. A short while later (I think), I’m awakened again. I’ve no idea if a long while has passed or only a few minutes. I’m groggy. My head aches, and my eyeballs feel gritty. The room feels too hot. I toss around for a moment or two “trying to get comfortable” again. No luck. I must have drifted off, though, into a sound deep sleep, because the next thing I recall is my partner calling to me softly in the darkness, but I don’t recall the question, or whether I understood. I struggled to wake enough to respond to him – I wanted to sleep so badly. The door closed quietly. I know I said something…but I’m not sure what, and the uncertainty itself, and a sudden concern that I would somehow be infinitely trapped in a pattern of waking from deep sleeps without being able to get rest, ever, fully woke me. I could not even imagine returning to sleep. I turn on a light and struggle to sit up. Vertigo. The room reels for a moment, before things steady, and the vertigo passes quickly. I’m grateful for that, and get up to use the bathroom and splash cold water on my face, still trying to really fully wake and maybe somehow manage to feel rested in spite of the interrupted sleep. Restless nights happen now and then, for one or the other of us. After so many years, I generally just move on from it, and practice letting shit go, because there’s no real value in taking an unpleasant tone over a sleep scenario neither of us can change. Sometimes one of us is wakeful. Sometimes we sleep badly. He greets me with a smile and sweet words when I enter the livingroom. I put on my boots and my cardigan and kiss him on my way out.

Holy shit I’m in a ton of pain this morning – and as I drive to the office, I wonder whether my pain was making me restless in my sleep, without waking me, but enough to disturb my Traveling Partner’s rest? Seems possible. Fucking hell, I feel bad for the both of us this morning. I hope he manages to go back to bed for awhile.

Another breath. Another exhalation. Another attempt to fully relax and let stress and pain fall by the wayside. Sometimes it works. Sometimes it’s just practice. Does it matter which it will be? No, I’ve still got to make the effort; it’s the consistent practice that creates incremental change over time. I sigh to myself, and glare at my packed meeting calendar. Tuesday. Fuck. Well, I won’t get much else done than meetings, today, but they are the plan, and that’s what I’ll do. I smile happily when the thought of my beloved’s birthday crosses my mind; my time off for that day is approved. I grin to myself. It’s not that we have elaborate plans, I simply enjoy the man’s company. I’m happy we’re together. He’s worth celebrating, and as I consider the man and the moment, my heart fills with joy.

…For a moment I forget about the pain…

I look at the clock. Always ticking. It’s a new day, and new opportunity to be the woman I most want to be. Feels like I’m off to a good start, this morning, in spite of feeling less than ideally well rested, and a little groggy. I think of the holidays ahead. This year won’t be lavish – everything costs more in Trump’s America, and resources are more limited. That won’t stop the holidays from being magical – I’ve done plenty with less, in years past. It’s more about presence than presents, anyway, isn’t it? I remind myself to propose board games of an evening, or a hand or two of cribbage… Maybe a walk or a drive to see the holiday lights? We’ve got so many ways to enjoy the holidays together!

It’s time to begin again. It’s definitely worth the effort. Why bother? Because you are better than your challenges. Change is. Choose wisely.