Archives for category: turning 60
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Deep Thoughts, Bad Coffee

December 18, 2023 //
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I hit the lottery on terrible coffee this morning. This cup is bad. Insipid. Poor flavor. Too hot to safely drink. It was made in a relatively fancy grind-to-order coffee machine in the office, and the beans in the hopper are generally of good quality and quite fresh. So…? Damn, are these actual grounds in my coffee, too? Blech. Interesting follow-up to a nearly effortless not-quite-actually-fun commute spent quietly driving while lost in thought, enjoying the lack of traffic. Fuck this is a terrible actually noteworthily bad cup of coffee. The Army makes better coffee. Reliably. lol

I sigh, and sip my coffee. Considering the state of the world, I’m fortunate to have freshly ground coffee beans and hot coffee, at all. If this small detail is my “top of mind” complaint, this morning, it’s a pretty good day, eh? I breathe and contemplate perspective for a while.

I look out onto the city from the office windows, before I start the work day. The high-rise condo tower across the park has more lights than usual, lit up with holiday lights, and Christmas trees in windows. Pretty. Down in the park itself, the trees are decked out in winter lights, and there are wreathes hung along the barrier wall that runs down one side. Also quite pretty. Festive. Day break is awhile away, yet, and there is no hint of sunrise-to-come peaking at me in the reflections of office windows. Not yet. It’s dark, and it’s early. It’s quiet in the office, and I’m alone here. The only sound is the hushed woosh of the heating, and the tappa-tap of my fingers on the keyboard. Peaceful.

I frown into my absolutely terrible coffee that I’m nonetheless fortunate to have, and for which I am grateful, and wonder why human beings are so loathe to embrace peace? What makes us such ridiculously unrepentantly violent creatures so willing to excuse heinous acts against other human beings? If you think you’ve got what it takes to shake your head, reject that notion, and say “well, not me…”, I’ve got to ask you what your personal position is on genocide? How about immigration? School shootings? Police brutality? Prison labor? Honor killings? “Crimes of passion”? Femicide? That asshole who pissed you off in traffic? As a species, we’re barely fucking housebroken, let alone “domesticated”, or “civilized”. We make more time to justify our individual wrong-headedness and bad acts than we do actually making an effort to create a society that supports and betters all humankind while also minimizing the “collateral damage” to the rest of the creatures and the ecosystem we’ve all got to share. We’re way into “us vs them” bullshit. I sigh outloud and sip my coffee. My seasonally timely seeming musings don’t get me anywhere, really. Just thoughts over coffee that inevitably lead me back to the question I begin most of my days with, “how can I do better today to be the woman I most want to be, than I did yesterday?” My results vary.

I feel a somewhat cynical smile on my face. I recommit to an “easy win”; today I won’t kill anyone, won’t break anything, won’t do any damage (where I can recognize that likely outcome), and I won’t act in anger against another creature, or destroy property. Seems easy enough. I pass most of my days in this fashion. I feel a latent vague anger seething in the background; it just doesn’t seem hard to choose to refrain from violence, and yet… there is so much of it in the world. Another sigh. Another sip of coffee. Another beginning.

I think back on the weekend. I spent it hanging out with (and doing things for) my Traveling Partner, while he continues to recover from an injury. He’s rarely injured, and being even somewhat incapacitated (or at all limited) really frustrates him and causes him stress and anxiety. I often tend to exist in a state of chronic injury, or recovery from some recent new injury, or concerned about not aggravating some old injury, and thus tend sometimes to be overly complacent about the discomfort and pain of being injured, or just puzzled about how maddening it can be to have to slow everything to a near halt just to let something heal. Just sit still and wait, right? I forget there are things to do about it. I guess I’m not wholly convinced that it matters to try – which is a problem of a different sort, and I give myself time to think about that, too.

In spite of being injured, my Traveling Partner makes me a cool stand for bananas so they don’t just sit on the counter or go bad in a bowl. It delights me that he thought to do so, and I feel very loved. I pushed myself pretty hard to stay caught up on as much of the routine shit that he’d ordinarily handle to keep things tidy and cared for. It wasn’t a particularly restful or recreational weekend, and I begin the new week pretty fatigued already, but there’s another one coming – it’s just days away. lol

“Giftmas” is almost here! The tree twinkles merrily, but there’s nothing much under it this year. Something for me, something for him, something for us; it’s enough. My Traveling Partner already has his gift(s) which I gave to him early as a combined birthday/Giftmas, and as a result, he’s already made me several things (like that banana stand) that I’m already using. He 3D printed me a very cool model to build over the Giftmas weekend, too. I’m excited about the weekend together, and the holiday, even without a stack of gifts under the tree, and yeah, also knowing that I really haven’t done anything to fill stockings, either. This one is low-key, and planned to be quite, intimate, and chill. More about presence, than presents. I’m okay with that. I feel very loved, and this life we share is a good one.

I’ve almost finished this terrible cup of coffee. The sky is now a sort of bluish-gray, poised between daybreak and sunrise, hinting at a rainy day ahead. My head aches. My arthritis pain is something like a 6 on a 1 through 10 scale. My email inbox is empty, and my calendar is mostly empty. I guess it’s time to begin again…

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Categories anger, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, grief, health, Healthy Living, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, turning 60, War and News of War

Sometimes All You Get Is The Sunrise

December 17, 2023 //
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I’m sitting in my car, waiting for the sunrise to illuminate the trail, preferring not to walk it in the dark. I slept poorly, completely pwnd by my nightmares. My head aches ferociously and I feel as if I am stressed to a breaking point in spite of so recently having a few days away. I find myself on the edge of tears over and over again, and awash in vague feelings of frustration. It’s shitty.

I breathe. Exhale. Regain a sense of calm. Then I lose it again. The experience is very much as if I am completely “disregulated” for some reason. My thoughts come back to this fucking headache. Going on 9 years, in January. No relief. No diagnosis that feels trustworthy or useful. I’m still here, though, that’s something. For now it has to be enough.

The beginning of a sunrise.

My Traveling Partner pings me a greeting. He’s up early. His injured condition is vexing and worrisome for both of us. Worse for him, obviously, living with it. The visit to the ER earlier this week seemed somewhat reassuring but the feeling hasn’t lasted and he’s struggling more than seems reasonable. No doubt this is weighing more heavily on my heart and mind than I was prepared for.

The sun begins to rise and the horizon is on fire with intense reds and oranges, and a hint of pink. It’s gorgeous. I sit watching it evolve over some minutes, half an eye on the trailhead. Soon the path will be light enough to walk quite safely.

I try to let the sunrise be enough. The tears start falling. I let them. I don’t really know what else to do with tears. Right now is hard. Sometimes that’s how things are. The world seems like a pretty terrible heartless place right now, which adds to the feeling of senselessness, futility, and frustration. Subjectively, I feel very alone and ineffective, powerless to prevent this mortal vessel from breaking down, powerless to help my partner, powerless to help my dearest friend. Powerless to change the world. Mortality comes for us all, and these fucking meat suits are more fragile than they seemed in younger years. Fuck.

I cry awhile, sitting here alone, watching the sun rise. Sometimes a sunrise is all we get. Sometimes it has to be enough. I sigh and wipe the tears off my face before I get out of the car to walk this favorite trail. It’s time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, Free Will, Frustration, grief, health, loneliness, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, The Art of Being, turning 60

Dream a Little Dream

November 18, 2023 //
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It’s a new day. A Saturday. I woke from peculiarly surreal and also vaguely sexual dreams with a sense of being “interrupted” and also having slept in quite a bit (which is a pleasant luxury, for me). I dressed and quietly let myself out of the house to watch the sun rise from a local trail. It was a lovely morning for it.

Daybreak on a favorite trail.

…I walk on…

Later, as the morning develops along the way.

I followed that with routine errands, arriving home sufficiently early to enjoy my morning coffee with my Traveling Partner while he enjoyed his. We spoke of 3D printers and projects, and things of that sort, until we’d both finished our coffee and it was time to move on with the day.

…My dream(s) still linger in my thoughts, which is a bit unusual these days. I dreamt of kissing a dark-eyed youth in a collegiate stage of early adulthood, who captivated me with his quiet confidence and led me by the hand to some less-than-ideally private place to take things further, only, that turned out to be a local business (?!) that opened quite unexpectedly, filling with customers – young women dressed only in towels, giggling as they passed us. We left, and attempted to find a happy haven “at my place” – only it wasn’t my place at all, it was… the first floor of some bizarre high-rise condo, where the current owners politely explained that they had purchased my abode, and upon breaking through the ceiling discovered 3 further floors above, lavish, luxuriously appointed, and clearly out of my price-range. They were courteously apologetic about how obviously I did not belong there. We sat at their vast kitchen counter in an expansive kitchen that was never mine, sipping deliciously well-crafted espresso (even in my dreams, there is coffee). My dream ended in contemplation of “where to go next”, when I realized I was alone where I stood. No dark-eyed youth. No giggling young women. No urbane well-spoken householders. Just me, standing on a rainy street in the twilight of my dreams. I woke, ready for a new day, simultaneously amused and puzzled by my strange dream(s). I’ve been dreaming a lot lately. Thankfully, few nightmares, just strange surreal dreams.

I’m in enough pain today to feel quite distracted and disinclined to do much, but there is much to do, and I feel creatively inspired… I may spend some portion of the day in the studio, painting, if I solve some of the puzzles involved in the two pieces I am presently working on. Individual paintings take longer these days. They are… more “involved”, and have greater depth of meaning. I think this has been an outcome of going through menopause, strangely enough. My thoughts and my emotions seem to take longer to process fully, but I get more out of them when I “get there”. Emotions have more breadth and depth – and more recognizable significance, with less chaos. Thoughts travel along more tangents and down more rabbit holes, but once every thread is pulled, and every depth explored, I find I have a greater understanding of where I was headed in the first place, and what to do with my thoughts when I get there.

…I sip my coffee and think about how useful all that would have been when I was much younger, stronger, and faster. LOL Life is weird.

My Traveling Partner interrupts my writing to ask me what I’m doing (which I guess I should expect, since I chose to be writing in the living room; a space we routinely share). I answer. Then I manage to interrupt him when he shares a thought, and he sternly tells me he’ll “try not to be annoyed” by that. I manage to refrain from pointing out the interruption to my writing that started the conversation in the first place, which for me is no doubt similarly annoying. I chuckle to myself; we both find a flow state difficult to find or maintain if the other is in the same shared space. It is evident we enjoy each other’s company greatly. I do struggle to set boundaries when I am reading or writing, though, and he rarely seems to recognize that both those activities (for me) require my full attention and focus to enjoy properly, or understand that I sometimes want the full measure of my own attention for myself. I don’t bother to say anything about it (again). Then I wonder if that’s a mistake…

I sip my coffee and move on. Letting small things stay small has real value in life and love, and I’m not inclined to “start shit” on such a lovely Saturday.

I continue to fuss about a particular “how to” challenge with a painting I keep coming back to – it is a self-portrait, so perhaps I am “too close to the subject” in some way. I find myself stalled because it really wants a different technical approach than I typically prefer, and the requirement to slow down, take my time, and work on the practical details with consideration and discipline vexes me. There are no suitable shortcuts! Shit. This one is going to be “do it right, or don’t do it at all”, and this confounds me. There’s something to learn here, and I sip my coffee grateful for the lesson. I don’t suppose learning will slow the inevitable result of being mortal, but I hear it may keep me young(er)… sounds worthwhile.

I sigh outloud and sip my coffee. Age, aging, human life, human mortality… so much more obvious as concerns these days than they were in my 20s. I look at my pillbox… double-checking that I’ve taken everything up to this point in the day that I’m expected (required to). “Fuck aging” I mutter to myself, nonetheless grateful for medical care, and the prescriptions that help me maintain my health acceptably well.

I resign myself to being distracted from my writing; if I want to write utterly without distractions, I definitely need to be alone, and in an unshared space. That’s just real. I chose this location – and I did so because I want to enjoy my partner’s company, and also write. Not sure how I thought that would work. LOL

Well, shit. There are paintings to paint, and dishes to do… I suppose it’s time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, art and the artist, autumn, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, The Art of Being, turning 60, women

Walk It Off

November 16, 2023 //
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I’m sipping my morning coffee and reflecting on recent thoughts after a lovely early morning walk. I hit the trail shortly before sunrise, in the pre-dawn twilight. It was chilly, but I knew hot coffee would be waiting for me on the other side.

The starting point of a favorite trail.

I walked, alone with my thoughts, watching the slow changes as dawn unfolded into a new day. I watched an interestingly apropos video yesterday evening, and I thought about the insights shared. Aside from the Autumn chill, it was a lovely morning for walking.

I returned home after a time, and got myself sorted out to commence the work day. My coffee was already made, and waiting for me. My Traveling Partner, awake when I got up, had returned to bed to get some more sleep. I quietly headed to the studio – my office – and set up for work, managing to do so without disturbing my partner’s rest, apparently, and I contentedly listen to him snoring softly on the other side of the wall adjacent to the bedroom. I feel contented and relaxed. No idea what the remainder of the day will hold, but this bit right here? Quite lovely and peaceful.

I sigh contentedly, sip my coffee, and start the work day.

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Categories Allegories, autumn, breathe, gratitude, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, The Art of Being, turning 60

Report Card

November 13, 2023 //
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I’m thinking about the shitty weekend that is now behind me. I’m thinking about progress over time and results, both successes and failures. It’s kind of a deep dive on particulars, and maybe “TMI”. Feel free to skip it.

I’m sipping my coffee, which is quite dreadful this morning, and sort of “giving myself a report card”, because it’s true that without reflecting on outcomes, managing change becomes more a matter of surfing the waves of circumstances and less like working towards goals. So… I think about my “Big 5” relationship values (which I set down “on paper” back in 2013) – how am I doing there? I’ll use traditional US primary school letter grades. 🙂

  1. Respect – I’ll give this one a D, I guess. I could for sure do a lot better. I talk over my partner a lot, and even though it’s a brain injury thing, it’s still rude and causes hurt feelings.
  2. Reciprocity – I’ve got to give myself an F here; I suck at personal boundary setting and speaking up when I need help, and the result is that I often take more on myself than I can live up to, and then struggle to manage my resentment. It creates a mess that would be so much more easily managed if I ask for help when I need it, and say “no” when I’m not up to handling some task or another.
  3. Consideration – I get a B on “consideration”, I think – and I’m “taking points off” because I sometimes go a bit overboard, such that I fail to also consider myself, or create an uncomfortable circumstance where my partner may be unintentionally maneuvered into “taking advantage of me”. My heart is in the right place, my execution needs some work – as does my boundary-setting.
  4. Openness – Another F. I’ve been more and more withdrawn, lately, even as my partner gives me more opportunity to open up. It’s damaging for our ability to create intimacy, and may be a byproduct of feeling small or inadequate in our relationship.
  5. Compassion – I’ll give myself a C here. I could do better. I definitely feel the feeling, but I often struggle to express it sufficiently well.

Shit. That was unexpected. I thought I’d get better grades… What about personal values like:

  1. Perspective – I gain it. I lose it. It’s pretty inconsistent, and also pretty high on my list of important things, so… a C?
  2. Sufficiency – I’ll give myself a A on this one. I do pretty well at living this value these days. That feels good. Room to improve? For sure – still human, still prone to greed, envy, lust, yearning… room to do better.
  3. Authenticity – I’m going to give myself a D here. More and more lately I’ve been feeling compelled to “put a good face on things” in spite of clear signs that I’m struggling with… something… even if it’s just aging/menopause/human b.s., there’s legit self-harm in being inauthentic, especially in an intimate relationship.
  4. Frankness – Funny/not funny. I’d have given myself an A+ on this, almost reflexively, even a few weeks ago, but I’m forced to admit I’ve been working so hard on not just blurting out whatever the fuck is on my mind for so long now that I’ve gotten pretty good at not doing that. With my more recent growing sense that my partner wishes I would just shut up (I don’t think that’s actually true, it’s just an emotional experience), I’ve gotten increasingly unlikely to be very frank and direct with him. I get an F.
  5. Kindness – Shit. Wow. So… I have a kind heart. A+ there, but… my Traveling Partner was super clear with me this weekend that he feels that I routinely treat him unkindly, and he’s hurt by that (obviously, who wouldn’t be?). And also? My chronic negative self-talk? Yeah. Failing grade here: F. That stings a bit. I can do better.

Fuck. What the hell, man…? How about application of the Four Agreements?

  1. Be Impeccable With Your Word – well shit. Seeing a D grade for Authenticity, and an F on Frankness… an F on Kindness… a D for Respect, and an F on Openness? Sounds like a big failure here, too. F.
  2. Don’t Take Anything Personally – Omg. I take so much shit so personally. My Traveling Partner has his own issues. Too often I look right past the love to the issue he’s struggling with himself that has nothing whatever to do with us, or love, and I take it so very personally. F.
  3. Don’t Make Assumptions – I’m pretty good here. Not perfect. Not great. Better than average, I think… so… a B? Sometimes in a bad moment, I trip myself up with this one, but generally I do okay to check myself (and my assumptions).
  4. Always Do Your Best – I’m going to give myself a C here. I could do my best, better, more often, I think. Sometimes I don’t do my best at doing my best. Pretty average.

Shit. For real? And those relationship items I touched on yesterday? How about those? Where I am “at” right now?

  1. Active interest in my partner’s life? Definitely. Very much so. But… am I communicating that skillfully? No. No, I’m definitely not. My self-care failures are getting in my way rather badly, and I end up being terse, distracted, or disengaged when I mean to be attentive and curious. D.
  2. Aware of my “attachment style” and working to develop a healthier attachment style? Um… F. This was barely even on my radar until a few days ago. I’ve got a ton of work to do here.
  3. Embracing healthy conflict, and not “fighting” (working as a team to solve problems)? Omg. I’m conflict avoidant AF – and in a very unhealthy way. It would not be an exaggeration to say I am inclined to literally run from conflict. I’m terrified by expressed anger (especially by male partners), and struggle to manage my PTSD when conflict develops as a result. F.
  4. Open to discussing, facing, and resolving big fears and issues, not just small ones? I mean… in principle, sure, but… see item 3. I’m so conflict avoidant in the context of intimate partnerships that trying to bring up a concern with me has real risk of provoking a fight or a “meltdown” of some kind. I am not good at this. I want to be good at this, but my skills are wholly undeveloped, and I’ve been badly hurt in earlier relationships – there’s a lot of ancient pain, and emotional scars. Another F.
  5. Supporting my partner without scorekeeping? This is a weird one. I definitely “get it” intellectually and emotionally. I understand why scorekeeping is damaging. I have put in a lot of work to move away from this kind of damaging behavior… but I somehow find myself fairly easily provoked into one form of scorekeeping or another in moments of conflict, in spite of that. I’m giving myself a D.
  6. Having my own identity and recognizing that my partner does as well? I’ve been struggling more with this lately; I feel “downtrodden and small”, and often feel as though my only value in my relationship is work, housekeeping, and other such practical shit. That isn’t healthy. I sometimes feel as if I am “losing myself”. I find myself wondering if this may be what is causing my bout of depression? (It’s probably at least relevant…). C- or D.
  7. Creating emotional safe space for each other? Fail fail fail fail fail fail fail fail. F. All the fucking fail sauce.

…I’m not good at relationships is apparently putting it mildly…

Fuck. That’s a lot of shit to work on… I feel grateful for my Traveling Partner’s persistence with our relationship (I’m clearly not good at this shit). I’ve definitely got room for growth and improvement, and holy shit this stuff looks hard. I’m coming up short in areas that require me to skillfully set boundaries… to ask for help… to say “no” to stuff… to speak up frankly and directly… to make room for my partner to have his own emotional experience and feel safe doing so… How am I failing so hard after so much fucking work?? Well, tl;dr – it’s a very human experience, and relationships (unlike self-work) are collaborative; his issues are my issues, mine are also his. My progress isn’t guarantee of relationship progress. These are separate things that both need attention, time, work, and real love. Commitment. Will to act. Will to change. Will to approach – and to be approachable. Fucking hell… adulting is hard.

It was a hard weekend and I’m glad it’s over. Am I inclined to just “put it behind me”? You better believe it – but doing that without doing the work needed to make things right (long-term) puts this relationship that I value at great risk of failure. That’s not at all what I want, so I guess I’ve got to dig deeper and work through my bullshit. Hopefully he’ll also be committed to doing the same; we’ve each got our share of bullshit to deal with, and we’re each “half of everything that works” (or doesn’t) in this relationship. I guess I can start by trusting love, and trusting my lover, and working on improving the shit I’m not personally doing very well. I can do better. (I’ve got a list, and plenty of verbs.)

I’ll see my therapist, talk about my depression, talk about building emotional safety in my relationship… and begin again. It’s a good place to start. Every journey has to start somewhere.

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, Healthy Living, loneliness, Love, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being, The Big 5, turning 60, Words
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