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Pain and Practices

July 22, 2024 //
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My morning is off to a rough start. I slept poorly (my Traveling Partner slept poorly, too). I woke with my headache, worse than usual, and although I slipped away quietly, early, for my walk without waking my partner, the Anxious Adventurer was up soon after. He rattled about sufficiently noisily to wake my partner, who commenced pinging me with information about his pain, his responses to new medications and details he’d like communicated to his doctors. It’s a new day.

… It was good weekend, generally, but there’s a lot of bitching coming up in this bit of writing (maybe skip it)…

After finishing the conversation with my partner, I could finally get out on the trail. Nearby construction had already gotten going. My tinnitus is loud in my ears and the morning seems a very noisy one. I feel irritable and frustrated.

… I breathe, exhale, and relax. I pull my focus back to the rising sun, the silhouetted trees, and the scents of summer meadow flowers.

… My Traveling Partner pings me again…

I sit down to handle the additional communication. Looks like it is going to be a steady effort through the day if I’m going to get what I need for myself from the limited time a day has to offer. It’s the most complicated detail about caregiving for me, personally; continuing to manage my self-care and support my own needs. I don’t get much help from my partner on that presently; he’s pretty consumed by his needs and also needs my help. He’s injured and his surgery is still weeks away. It’s a hell of a puzzle. I feel inadequate and wholly made of fallible human stuff.

… This solitary morning time is so precious to me. It has become an essential component of my self-care, and is often literally the only time (outside a bathroom break) that I can call my own over the course of a busy work day. Today, it’s looking like I’m not going to get much out of it…

…Ping…

I resume my walk, feeling distracted, as if waiting for the next ping. The sun is up. Daybreak has passed. The sun rise is over. I missed my chance to watch the full moon set. Fuck. I take notice of my negative thoughts and aggravation, and let it go. Again. I breathe. Exhale. Walk on. I pull my focus back to my steps, my breath, the sensations of this body, my awareness of the world around me. Clusters of yellow and white flowers sway above the meadow grass. A turkey vulture rides the air currents overhead. The oaks along the trail stand tall overhead as I walk through the grove at the edge of the meadow.

I take my focus off my pain and irritation, and focus on the trees, the horizon, the colors of the morning sky. I keep walking, making mental notes, observations, for later writing when I get to my halfway point – I can just see the bend in the trail up ahead.

…Ping…

Pain is a difficult challenge. It’s very much part of the human experience and it also very much sucks to experience it. Pain “shrinks our world”, and unmanaged pain is a pretty horrible experience to have to endure. Do OTC pain relievers help? Sometimes. What about Rx pain relievers, do those ease pain? Sometimes. Even so, it’s more a reduction in pain or loss of awareness, than any kind of real solution. In fact, just about every potential remedy for pain is only somewhat helpful. Pain tells us something is wrong with this fragile vessel, and it’s pretty fucking difficult to silence that warning without fixing the underlying cause (which may not always be possible at all). Physical therapy, chiropractic treatments, meditation, acupuncture, CBT… 100% of all of these have helped someone at some point, and I promise you that none of them is 100% effective, ever, for anyone living with chronic pain. I personally use most of the available options, based on the circumstances of a given day, trying to find the best balance, trying to strictly limit my use of prescription strength pain killers, because…consequences. There are reliably tradeoffs. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I walk on.

…It doesn’t make things easier that American healthcare is so completely broken where treating pain is concerned…

I do my best to manage my pain skillfully. Sometimes I just have to “look past it” and do my best to prevent pain from calling my shots. I’m not even saying I’m always successful. My results vary. I live with pain. A lot of people do. Sometimes all I have available to manage my pain is pure seething rage, resentment, and force of will. It’s hard. I keep at it. My results vary.

… My Traveling Partner pings me again, I stop again to read his message…

My partner’s whole world is his pain today. I find myself struggling to prevent his pain from also becoming my whole world. (I’ve got my own to deal with too.) Another breath. Another step. How do I get the emotional distance I need to maintain my resilience for this marathon…? I tried to communicate a boundary regarding this time that is so critical to my wellness… I definitely don’t feel heard*. My irritation competes for my attention with my love and sympathy for my partner. He’s suffering and there’s so little I can really do. It sucks.

…”Put your own oxygen mask on first.”… Super good advice, but if the traveler next to you is clawing your mask out of your hands while you try to put it on (metaphorically speaking)… What then? I mean, in a legit air emergency whereupon oxygen masks are required, that would be a very different question. Here, now? I rather frustratedly allow my self-care to be completely undermined in order to care for my partner. It’s not healthy or sustainable, I just can’t see myself not being there for him. Caregiving is hard.

I sigh as I write. My Traveling Partner pointed out that I could have chosen to ignore all his messages until I finished my walk. It never even occurred to me; he’s home injured. It doesn’t sound wise to ignore a message if there’s potential he could have fallen…

Today feels like the sort of day that will require every practice, every moment, and may test everything I have learned about managing my pain, my mental health, and my ability to care for another human being with love and compassion. I don’t feel ready for this sort of test, and I know my results vary.

… Maybe I should take the day off work to deal with this shit…?

… I can at least begin again. Sometimes that’s enough. (Your results may vary.)

*Later, after I got back to the house, my Traveling Partner made it very clear he did hear me, does get it, recognized the boundary I set, supports my need to set that boundary, understands the necessity of my taking care of myself and the value of that quiet morning time for my emotional and physical wellness… all the things. He’s also having his own experience, and doing his best. Sometimes this shit is just hard. I feel heard, supported, and loved. It’s a journey, and we’re on it together.

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Categories breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, health, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5

Surfing the Wave

July 18, 2024 //
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Yesterday went sideways fast, mostly a byproduct of pain (mine, and his), and associated emotional volatility. Mine. His. It sucked and generally speaking the entire day was pretty much wrecked by it. Oddly, from an outside perspective, apparently, the details of the day amounted to “a great day” characterized by numerous successes, but the emotional qualities of the experience were wildly out of touch with any of that. Being human is complicated sometimes.

As bad as the day seemed, generally, it began and ended well. Not my usual experience, and it seems (on reflection) somehow associated with the addition of the Anxious Adventurer to the household dynamic. Interesting. Looking back on the day it “doesn’t seem so bad”, but good grief I am glad it’s behind me and I am hoping for better today. I’m in less pain… A promising start.

Here comes another opportunity!

I hit the trail just at daybreak. The morning had a slight chill to it that felt refreshing. The sunrise began as a smudgy streak of a reddish hue, like a wound becoming infected. The air was still, and hazy in the distance. My tinnitus was far louder in my ears than the sound of distant traffic. I walked along, listening to my own steps, thinking my solitary thoughts.

…10 days until my coastal getaway…

The case I purchased to hold, protect, and transport my pastels arrived yesterday and I took a moment to put the delicate sticks of colorful pigments into their new home. No more small boxes – just one tidy case. I’m delighted with the result, and feel more prepared for my upcoming trip to the coast to paint. I sit at the halfway point of my walk, thinking about art, love, and inspiration, and watching the sun rise. The work day will begin soon enough, and I’ll turn my thoughts to work when it does. For now, my time is my own.

I’m looking forward to the weekend, though it seems likely to be quite a busy one. I’ve got a number of boxes set aside, filled with small objects and items quickly packed and moved out of the way to make room for the Anxious Adventurer. Now that things are settling down, it’s time to take a closer look, to dispose of what lacks value, to display noteworthy curiosities and decorative things, where space permits, and more carefully pack those things worth keeping but for which the time is not now. Then whatever boxes there are will go to storage for a while. It’s a process that can be a bit emotional, and although I am not dreading it, I’m also not looking forward to it.

I breathe exhale and relax. The sun is deep luminous orange as it rises above the horizon. I save my draft and turn back up the trail. The sunrise dazzles my eyes as I walk through the oaks.

Don’t stare into the sun!

The air is already warming up. I’m thinking about coffee and new beginnings, and change. I’m feeling pretty good this morning, aside from the headache that accompanies me most days.  Getting to the car, I sit on a nearby picnic table to finish my writing, change my boots for softer shoes, and sit for a moment, just being. I watch the sun through the trees and contemplate how I would compose the scene on paper and how that might work in pastel. Old thoughts, new medium.

…Fuck, my tinnitus is so loud. I make a point to listen to myself breathing, which helps “put the tinnitus in perspective” and anchor my awareness to externally audible sounds.

…My Traveling Partner pings me…

It’s hours later. My plans were upended pretty quickly. My morning walk had served to give my partner a bit more time to get the rest he needs, but the Anxious Adventurer has his own routine, and his own work hours, and his own plan, and my partner was awake earlier than he’d hoped, with no likelihood of getting more rest if I were to be working from home, as I’d intended. It was early enough in the morning to make a change, easily, with no particular stress and I offered to do so, and hastened home to grab my laptop and head to the office. It’s nice to have the option. My day ends up starting a bit later than I planned, which means it will end later than I’d like, but if my Traveling Partner gets the rest he needs, it’s a win for both of us.

…The necessity to begin again comes in a lot of forms. The willingness to make a change based on circumstances is a useful first step. Then, by beginning where I actually am, I can proceed to the next thing, the next need, the next plan… the next moment. So far, it’s still a lovely day – and all I had to do was begin again. 😀

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Categories Allegories, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5

Another day, More Chaos

June 30, 2024 //
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Moving is hard. It’s a ton of work compounded by fatigue and distractions, and chaos reliably rides shotgun (sometimes even if the move is executed “military style”). We’re getting it done, but it’s a lot of work, and coordination of effort, and management of many small logistical details. My injured Traveling Partner helpfully coordinates things between the Anxious Adventurer and me, as we each handle various tasks, leaving us both free to focus on what we’re doing, checking in with him as we complete one task and move on to the next.

Today the rented truck gets returned and we’re “done” – for some values of done. There’s still quite a lot to do, but last night the Anxious Adventurer slept in his room, and even found the energy to bake cookies (they were delicious) in the evening.

… I’m so fucking tired…

I woke at my usual time, got myself together, and headed to the local trail I like most. Later it’ll be grocery shopping and laundry and trying to maintain the pace on the ordinary tasks that keep the household running, on top of continuing to handle various moving in tasks still needing attention.

… Did I mention I’m tired? I’m also in pain.

I remind myself that a new normal with less chaos and less work (well, possibly the same amount effort, but distributed across more human capacity) is near at hand. My tinnitus whines, chimes, and buzzes in my ears. My back hurts. My head aches. I look past all that as I walk the trail. This is my path. It’s not always easy. I’ve survived a lot worse. I just keep walking. Persistence pays off. Incremental change over time is reliable.

…We become what we practice…

I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s a pleasant morning, gray and overcast, mild and somewhat humid. I keep walking.

My Traveling Partner is already up, and I wonder if I woke him as I left the house? I let that thought go, too. I walk on. I prepare a mental grocery list, and remind myself to go over some basic expectations about groceries, shared (and limited) space, and avoiding waste or duplication. We three each have somewhat different tastes, and ideally that becomes exciting variety and chances to try new things. All of us cook (although for now my Traveling Partner can’t easily do anything much cooking-wise), but pantry and cupboard space is very limited.

… It’s an exciting time. I focus on the excitement instead of the chaos as I walk…

I stop for a picture and a quiet moment.

…So much yet to do, and the weekend feels so short…

Tomorrow morning is a new work day. Weird. Work, in the abstract, feels so removed from my experience right now. How strange. I pause at my halfway point, and sit, smelling the blooming blackberries and wildflowers. The air is very still and calm. It smells like it may rain again. I sigh quietly and watch a feral cat slink past giving me a sideways glance before disappearing in the underbrush. I find myself wondering when I will have the cognitive bandwidth (and the time) to explore the possibilities of the new pastels.  Realistically, it may be a while, and the possibility exists as a temptation dangling ahead of me awaiting some future moment…if I get enough done.

I sigh. Shit’s not getting done while I sit here. Fuck. I stand and stretch stiff joints, and dust off my pants, before heading back to the car to get started on the day. It’s already time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, art and the artist, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5

Well, Hello Change

June 28, 2024 //
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I woke more or less on time, with my headache “turned up to 11” this morning, aware of a sense of change, but feeling that for the most part all is well. There’s just a lot of work to do this weekend to get the household settled and begin finding our way, each of us, to our “new normal”, new routines, new practices, and new shared courtesies. It’s fine. This is not a surprise; my Traveling Partner’s son arrived and began moving in yesterday.

Frankly I am more grateful to have some help with things while my partner is injured than I am disrupted by the additional human presence in our little home. Surely it’s big enough for 3 adults, family, each willing to work together cooperatively (most of the time). It’s a new day.

What’s on the horizon? More than I can see from here.

Today leads into a weekend likely to be mostly manual labor and moving in tasks.  For me that means moving a lot of art and art supplies into storage temporarily (this arrangement is not planned to be permanent), and turning my wee library back into a functional bedroom for my Traveling Partner’s son. This seems only reasonable, and I’d rather not step over/around him sleeping on the floor in the living room indefinitely. lol There is work involved… We get started this morning.

In the meantime, I’m doing my best to maintain the practices that keep me well, healthy, and contented, as much as I can. There’s work involved in that too, and I only have so many spoons. The unfolded, not yet hung up or put away, basket of laundry on the floor, left unfinished last night out of pure exhaustion is a reminder, and a warning; plan with care, and expect change. There’s always more to do, but there isn’t always the time or energy left to get it done.

… Is this a test? This feels like a test…

The morning is quiet and lovely. I’m grateful for these quiet solitary minutes. Short walk. A bit of writing. Heavy gray clouds drift sluggishly across the sky. Where does this path lead? I guess I find out by walking it.

… It’s time to begin, again.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5

Summer Rain and Practice

June 27, 2024 //
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The air was still fresh from the drenching rain during the night when I stepped out of the car at the trailhead. Drops falling from the trees occasionally spattered my face and hoodie, which I sensibly wore thinking it might be a cool morning. I breathed deeply, filling my lungs with the rain-fresh air. I walked briskly, alone with my thoughts, my arthritis pain, and my headache. Only one of these things mattered much to me, the rest I did my best to ignore as inconsequential.

Yesterday’s appointments, first with my therapist, and later with my physician, were an interesting study in perspective. I showed up to both prepared to discuss stress and anxiety and how best to manage these lingering mental health concerns, only to be firmly told by both that my levels of stress and anxiety, at least under the current circumstances, seem quite reasonable and even appropriate. Well… Shit. I’m not nearly as well-practiced at managing reasonable-not-a-sign-of-mental-illness stress and anxiety. lol In each conversation it’s agreed that similar techniques and continued practice are helpful. No change to medications or recommendations. Just… Keep managing. Keep up self-care efforts properly. Keep breathing and keep cutting myself some fucking slack, eh? It’s still a lot to handle, but apparently that’s pretty fucking reasonable under the circumstances. It was peculiarly helpful to hear that.

…It doesn’t make things any easier…but it does take a bit of pressure off…

I’ve been hard on myself a lot lately. Sometimes my self-talk is pretty negative, even though I know how cruel and unhelpful that is. I’ve carried some shame and disappointment that I am not a more skilled caregiver for my Traveling Partner, when he needs so much from me while he’s been injured. I’ve labored under the additional burden of my disappointment with myself over not having more energy, more capacity to labor on, more ability to get everything done, every day. I’ve been angry with myself just for not being younger, more able, and for needing rest and care, myself.

…My Traveling Partner, on the other hand, has been kind and appreciative, and generally far more impressed and grateful for my help every day, so this shit is definitely me…

I breathe and keep walking. My Traveling Partner pings me, letting me know he’s awake. I stop on the trail and exchange a few messages before continuing. Time to head back to the car and start the work day. There’s a lot to do, and it sounds like my partner’s son will arrive later, sometime this evening.

Fuck, I’m so tired… A good night’s sleep doesn’t restore my energy these days and every day seems to start with a longer list of shit that needs attention… And I keep putting myself last on my list! Not helpful. lol No wonder I’ve been stressed and anxious. I breathe, exhale, relax… And get ready to begin again.

This is all pretty real stuff. Life. Sometimes it’s a bit much, but it’s better than the current alternatives. I breathe, exhale, relax, and walk on. I’ll get where I am going, eventually. It’s a journey. Incremental progress is still progress. One step forward is still forward momentum. Making a point of being kind to myself doesn’t take any time or cost any money. Worth doing and I’m sure it’ll be helpful stress-management-wise.

… This too will pass…

… It’s time to begin again.

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Categories anger, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5
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