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Clocks and Calendars

April 2, 2024 //
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It’s quiet early, but daybreak arrived before I finished my commute into the city. I’m sipping my coffee and watching the sun rise from the office. The big windows, and this corner seat, give me an amazing view of the changing colors of the sky. Looks like another sunny Spring day ahead. I smile to myself, enjoying the coffee and this moment.

A glance at the calendar reminds me it’s a short countdown to my next wee getaway to the coast for some solo time. I’m surprised that I’ve needed so many short breaks to maintain my emotional wellness over the past six months or so, but when I reflect on that, I guess it isn’t so surprising. I’ve had a job change, my Traveling Partner has had an injury (some months ago, now) that has required my continued assistance and support, as well as the picking-up-of-slack resulting from his reduced ability to do things around the house when I’m working (or, generally) while he recovers, and more recently the loss of a dear friend hit me hard – right in the emotions. So, okay, I need a bit of a break from life and routine and… effort. Not so surprising at all. I’m fortunate that I can take the break I need. I’m even more fortunate that my partner supports my doing so, and more generally supports my commitment to self-care (and has, himself, a personal commitment to my wellness as well as his own).

Calendar and clock remind me of all the many details of a planned work day. I sigh to myself, already chafing at the constraints of time and planning. The clock never stops ticking; what we do about that is what matters. I know I need a day or two without feeling “chased by time“, and I’m eager to enjoy a couple days of … no agenda. No plan. No specifics. Just sleeping, waking, breathing, and being. Meditating without a timer. Napping without checking whether it makes any sense to nap right then. Reading because it’s what I feel like doing in that moment. Walking on the beach without a goal or destination. Eating meals based on whim or curiosity without being concerned about what anyone else likes. Seeking awe in small details of the world around me, without chasing any particular experience or satisfying any expectations. Giving up the structure and routine of day-to-day life for a couple days, in favor of savoring each moment of existence as something of a personal adventure in leisure and relaxed joy.

…Oh, damn, that sounds soooo good…

In the meantime, I am counting down the hours with an eye on the clock and the calendar. There are things to do before I leave, and things to do to prepare to go, and … just things to do that need to be done. All very commonplace stuff, and nothing to be stressed about. No reason any of it should “weigh me down” or create a feeling of pressure… sometimes it does, though. Adulthood requires us, individually, to keep track of a lot of fucking details. This morning it was a gentle reminder from my Traveling Partner that I’d said I’d take the glass bottles on the counter to be returned or recycled, and hadn’t yet done so. Routine shit and I honestly just forgot; they’d become invisible to me sitting there, unless I was standing right there making coffee. Just a small detail that needed attention. They add up. I make lists. I do my best to keep on top of all the shit that wants doing. lol It’s a very human experience and my results vary.

The medical appointment that was stressing me out so badly was… fine. Productive. Useful. Promising. I’ve got to make some changes to medications I’m taking, and I’ll start a new one at the end of the weekend (yes, Ozempic), after I come back from the coast. I’m hopeful that small changes in treatment will result in big improvements in wellness – there are still verbs involved, and I’m not allowing myself to become overly eager and wantonly encouraged by the temptation of improvement in the form of a prescription; I’ve still got to do my part to skillfully manage my calories, the nutritional quality of the food I eat, the exercise I get, and on and on – details. Details that add up. I raise my cup to the sky, toasting the value of incremental change over time. I finish my coffee, and begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, turning 60, weight loss secrets

Waffles & Roses

March 18, 2024 //
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I’m sipping my coffee and thinking about the weekend that has only just ended. The sunrise is just getting started, and I see it beyond the city skyline, as a pale peach glow that reaches a deep orange as it nears the distant horizon, only visible reflected back in building windows. The crows are taking flight, and I see and hear them as they pass by the big window behind my monitor. It’s a Monday.

…Funny, I remember Mondays being quite different than this, not so long ago…

…Years, actually, it’s been years since Mondays were reliably unpleasant for me…

I’m feeling contented and merry, well-loved, appreciated, and cared-for. The weekend was rich with self-care and the charming companionship of my Traveling Partner, whose sometimes wildly inappropriate often subtle sense-of-humor reliably amuses me. (Fuck, I love that guy!) We go together like waffles and maple syrup on lazy Sunday. 😀

…I actually did make waffles this weekend. They were… of varying quality. At least one of them was almost the best waffle I’ve ever made… my waffles are pretty hit-or-miss, honestly. There’s a subtlety to really great waffles. I have a fantastic recipe, but I have a cheap-ass very average quality electric waffle iron that is pretty fiddly and imprecise for both temperature and timing (and also hard to clean). Makes it rather more difficult to get a great result than necessary for something as simple as waffles. This particular batch of waffles resulted in a decent breakfast together, but ended with both of us finding reasons that the results were less than satisfying. “Not done enough”, “over-done”, “not quite enough batter” – all the basic ways a waffle can fail, I got that outcome. LOL I make a batch small enough for two people, so the end result was that we each got 1 adequately-edible-but-not-perfect waffle, in spite of a great recipe. Well, shit. Before I even finished my waffle, my Traveling Partner had shopped around for a better waffle iron, and we’ll have it before the next weekend. 😀 Sometimes self-care is about careful consideration of the outcome we get, what we’d like for ourselves instead, and taking actual steps to make that happen… even when we’re just talking about waffles! I’m excited about the new waffle iron, and I’m eager to make waffles again, instead of facing the idea with some resistance certain that the results will be… unpredictable.

The weekend was pleasant, with mild spring weather, and I spent time in the garden planting pea seedlings and salad greens; the young plants give me a head start and give the recently planted seeds some time to get going. They also seem to discourage El Gato from using my veggie bed as a litterbox, which is a bonus. It felt good to have my hands in the soil. I went around to each of the roses and did a little more pruning, cutting back any dead canes, and pruning off canes that were tending to grow in a crowded fashion, or obstructing a walkway – pruning for aesthetics, mostly, and just enjoying the sunshine. It’s a garden. There’s always more to do, and I finally had the weather for it.

Getting the garden started; it’s Spring!

The sky is now a lovely baby blue, with a hint of bold yellow along the horizon, and streaked with bright pink “chem trails” and whisps of clouds. Looks like another pleasant Spring day, and I’m so happy to see it! I sip my coffee and think my thoughts, preparing for the day, and watching the sun rise. I enjoy seeing the sun rise.

I think I recall that the rain will return this week, and through next weekend… that won’t stop me from making waffles, or taking care of myself and my Traveling Partner, but it will probably keep me out of the garden, mostly. I’m glad I got so much done this past weekend! My mind wanders to more/other things I’d like to do, or plan to do, or expect to have to do… I keep a list, so as not to lose track of the important details. My results still vary, but it’s been a long time since I learned to stop beating myself up over the very human limitations in energy and time that can limit what I get done in a day. It doesn’t help to treat myself like shit over running out of energy, or forgetting something I had sworn I’d make time for. It’s far more productive (and kinder to myself) to take note, acknowledge how very human I am, and just move the fuck on to the next opportunity. I try my damnedest not to be one of the people standing in line to grief me over something stupid. lol There are plenty of other people willing to fill that role, any time.

I smile to myself, feeling pretty contented and merry, and very much “recharged” after a great weekend. It’s a good start to a new week, and now it’s time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Roses, Spring, The Art of Being, weight loss secrets

Reflections

March 17, 2024 //
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I’m relaxing after my morning walk on a nearer more local trail. I slept in this morning, and slipped out of the house after daybreak, leaving my Traveling Partner to sleep awhile longer. I’ve got a plan to make waffles later, and for now these quiet moments of morning watching the sunrise become a new day are mine to enjoy alone.

A new day, a new beginning.

I am sitting on one of the picnic tables that sit along this stretch of the trail, watching small birds and reflecting on past and current commitments to myself, and my successes and failures over the years. I consider progress I’ve made over time, and how different “a good life” looks to me at 60, compared to 14, 23, 30, or 45… My thinking and my understanding of what I want in life has changed quite a lot over time. Certainly, at 14 I had no idea how much pure effort is involved in “living well”, let alone how I would come to define that after I had experienced some living.

I still find myself yearning for “easy”, far more than I ever yearn(ed) for recognition or fortune, and it amuses and humbles me to finally find myself having to acknowledge that, like a lot of life’s sweet treats, “ease” is best taken in moderation. The more of it I have, the more often I indulge, the more likely I may also find myself struggling later on to maintain my wellness or health in some other area of life. There’s a balance to be struck.

I sit feeling the effects of physical exertion. Feeling the rising sun on my face. Breathing the cool morning air. A small bird stops on the table, very near to me. I hold quite still to avoid startling her into flight. She looks me over and picks at unseen crumbs while I wonder how hard birds must work just to survive. I think I must have it relatively easy, by comparison. Useful perspective.

I’ve been working towards increasing the amount of effort I put in day-to-day, without exhausting myself or breaking down this fragile vessel. This isn’t new; I’ve “been here before”. I’m hoping to improve my fitness and my wellness, generally. I’d like to be around a good long time more… In spite of the chaos of the world, my own wee slice of suburban paradise is rather nice, and I enjoy life and love and time spent with my Traveling Partner and my friends. I’m not interested in “going out with a bang”, nor do I want to quietly fade away. I want most to live well, and live simply, and enjoy the life I live for all the days I can. Recent reminders that we are mortal creatures are less depressing than they are simply a reminder that the clock is always ticking.

… I wonder what the future holds, as I take off my hiking boots and put my sneakers back on. I think about the garden and wonder if I would do well to pick up a watering can for watering the seedlings in the veggie bed. These questions strangely seem to have similar significance and magnitude for me on this relaxed Sunday morning. I suppress a laugh and the little bird flies away.

… I remember that I’ve planned to drain and clean and refill the hot tub today and wonder if I actually will… Have I got it in me? Should I give myself a break and do it next weekend?

I take a breath and exhale with a sigh and a smile, and prepare to walk back to the car, wondering if I have everything I need to make waffles…? I know I have what I need to find satisfaction, joy, and contentment in my life. There are verbs involved…

… And it’s time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, turning 60, weight loss secrets

Dumb Mindfulness Exercises

March 11, 2024 //
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I’m sitting here with a cup of tea and a terrible headache. The headache is no surprise; it’s the Monday after Daylight Savings Time began this year, and that rather abrupt change to the timing on all my medication reliably results in a headache, and some crankiness. I guess I’m fortunate that it isn’t worse.

I found myself needing a break. A “proper break”, though, really stepping back from “this” and giving myself room to reconnect with myself here/now. I brought a fat juicy “Sumo” tangerine to work with my lunch today, and it seemed like a good time to enjoy that…

…I tore off the “top knot” of the tangerine and the smell of it filled my senses. I thought immediately of some of the odd-seeming mindfulness exercises sometimes taught to students or CBT patients just learning mindfulness practices. You probably know the ones… “eat a raisin”… “eat an orange”… These departures from the mindless consumption we often tend towards are intended to “wake us up” to the real depth of some very commonplace ordinary experiences and create an opportunity to experience them more fully, in a more present and engaged way. They can still seem pretty silly, or awkward, or fake, especially the first time, or in the company of strangers.

…Embracing authenticity is sometimes a matter of letting go of our own self-consciousness or embarrassment, or concern about what someone else’s idea of “normal” looks like…

I sit here with this big fragrant tangerine quite happily. I love the scent of it. The heft of the large asymmetrical fruit feels very satisfying in my hand. The bumpy rough skin tempts me further, and I begin to peel it, smelling the freshness of still more citrus-y tangerine-y scent filling the air around my desk. The skin makes a sort of quiet ripping sound as it pulls away from the juicy flesh of the fruit it has been protecting. The bitter white pith pulls away easily, without a sound. The inside of the peel feels vaguely damp and very soft. Minutes have gone by in the time it has taken to peel this one fruit, and even though I haven’t even tasted it yet, my mood has already lifted quite a lot.

…Does it matter if something seems silly, if it works for you?…

I slowly separate one slice, one “segment” I guess it is, of the tangerine from the rest, breaking the fruit into halves as I do. Like a kid, I carefully peel off the thin skin that separates the slice from the others, and which holds the section intact as an individual piece. I admire the deep orange color of the fruit, and wonder how many of the tiny orange tear-drop shaped inner bits there really are in each section, before I bite into it and taste the sweet tang of the tangerine, at last. Somehow, tangerines manage to taste like Christmas and summertime both at the same time. Simultaneously exotic and ordinary, fancy and everyday, for a moment I think perhaps these are my favorite fruit – before I laugh to myself, aware that I probably feel that way the first moment I bite into almost any fully ripe fruit. One by one, I bite into the slices of tangerine, tasting each one anew, going slowly enough to really appreciate the taste and texture, and really enjoy the experience. Here’s the thing about this as a mindfulness practice; it’s not about going so slow that the slowness becomes the experience, it’s simply about going slowly enough to have an experience in the first place. This is a huge tangerine – certainly big enough to be at least two whole servings of fruit – so shouldn’t there be some time consumed along with the fruit? If I’m sucking this tangerine down almost whole in mere seconds, have I even had an opportunity to actually enjoy it beyond the first sweet brief bite?

I sit smiling, eating my tangerine, taking my break. Minutes go by. Enough time for two streetcars to pass by on the street below. Long enough for a soft rain to begin, spattering the windows and changing the quality of the light. I feel present and real, instead of a bit distracted and harried. I feel relaxed, and also energized (doesn’t hurt that this tangerine is juicy and sweet and nutritious). Sure, I’ve still got a headache, and it’s still the day after the start of DST, but I feel pretty good, and here. Present. I break the last slice of this tangerine in half and eat it in two delightful bites.

I’m ready to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Spring, The Art of Being, weight loss secrets

Being and Yearning

March 8, 2024 //
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As I came around the last bend in the road before I reached the city, the sunrise greeted me with a messy smudge of coral and orange, like badly applied lipstick. I so earnestly wished to make a right turn and chase that sunrise to wherever the day might take me…

The yearning hit me hard. I don’t find myself wanting to chase things like a bigger house, a more exotic car, Birkin bags, or Louboutin shoes. Sufficiency is generally quite enough for me, and I’m content with the occasional excesses of more modest scale, like garden seeds, or art supplies, or a new keyboard…but… I sometimes find myself faced with a very peculiar moment of yearning and discontent that is very much part of “who I am” (and has been for as much of my life as I can recall)… I sometimes earnestly and deeply want to be free of everything that defines my life – however it is presently defined. As though the constraints of habit and routine, and requirements and expectations, just get to be too much, and something within me spills out and I just want to… go. Somewhere. Somewhere else than wherever I am. I want to “chase that sunrise”. I want to sleep in and when I wake wander to some previously unvisited delightful breakfast spot and linger into the day over my coffee. I want to wander a beach or a forest trail, listening to the birds and the breezes. I want to be… untethered. I doubt this experience is unique to me, and it seems generally very human.

This morning, once my commute carried me to the city, and the car was parked in the usual place, and I frowned at the thermostat in the office on my way past it, as I often do, and made a cup of coffee (that has already gone cold), I sat down and did the payday stuff and the budgeting, like a proper grownup. No tears or terror, no stress, just regular adult shit that has to get done regardless of how lovely the sunrise may be. I’m okay with it. I don’t really need to drop everything and escape my existence, I’ve got a pretty comfortable life that I enjoy very much, and I’m fortunate to share it with a partner I love deeply, and who loves me back so wonderfully. Life is pretty good right now. I’m not objecting to that, or craving change – just acknowledging my restless nature, and maybe wishing it were already “camping season” (too chilly yet for me, personally). lol Funny creatures, human primates – give them everything they want and need in life, and still they find their way to discontentedness, wanting either more, or less. LOL

I sip my tepid coffee, unbothered by any detail of the morning, thus far. I’m okay. I breathe. Exhale. Relax. (Mutter something cranky about the broken heat in this office.) I stretch, and check my calendar. Set up my work day. Email the budget details to my Traveling Partner. There’s no particular stress to the day, so far. Hell, I’m not even in much pain; it seems very manageable so far. The sun continues to rise, and the buildings beyond the office reflect the golden glow and hints of orange and pink. Beautiful. I take a minute to enjoy it, before I sit down to write a few words.

It’s a Friday. I find myself missing my Traveling Partner greatly this morning, and wishing perhaps that I’d worked from home, but we’d discussed that yesterday evening, and he expressed a desire to make the day a quiet one, healing and resting, and to support that endeavor, I committed to the commute and the day in the office. Maybe a short one? I’d love to get the weekend started and get out in the garden again, or try a trail I’ve never walked before, or just… drive somewhere far. lol That restless nature nagging at me in the background almost makes me giggle – I’d be satisfied to spend the day in my studio, on an artistic journey, and as that thought crosses my mind, I realize that this is what I’m yearning for – some creative time in my own head, whether writing, or painting, or in the garden. Well, the weekend is here, and that’s easily done. I just have to begin again. 😀

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Categories Allegories, art and the artist, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Roses, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, turning 60, weight loss secrets, winter
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