Archives for category: winter

It feels like ages and ages since I’ve written a word. It’s a sensation more than it is fact; I wrote yesterday, in the morning, and of course professional discourse via email, and correspondence with people dear to me, and messages exchanged with my traveling partner – there’s been no shortage of words. I also feel very tired, waking to the alarm clock and struggling with the idea of wakefulness each morning for a couple of days, and falling asleep sooner and faster than is typical. I’ve been pushing myself through the week with coffee and insistence, but I am so tired… I’ve no idea why. There’s been quite a lot of illness in the office this past week; I suspect that I have been fighting it off, just with few obvious symptoms. Maybe the fatigue does not need an explanation?

What to do about tired? I’m home. The work week is behind me. I’ve no plans tonight. It’s tempting to just crash now, not quite 5 pm, and sleep until whenever I wake… breaking good self-care habits like regular sleep habits isn’t generally the best choice for me. (But I’m so tired…)

I realize at some point that I am ‘filling the space’ with stimuli, possibly a background effort to keep myself awake and alert. I turn off the music. I turn off extra household lights. I close my email. I set it all aside for a time. I breathe. Sure, I’m tired. I just breathe. It wouldn’t be odd to be a bit under the weather, it’s the time of year for it in the office. Another deep calming breath. I sit awhile, still, calm. Comfortable. Being. After a while, the stillness spreads through my awareness, a sort of ‘space between’ the sounds of distant traffic and nearby aquarium. I’m still tired, and I’m okay with that. It’ll be a gentle evening, spent quietly reading; the sooner I finish this book, the sooner I will read Soil-Man – a rare fiction treat I am eager to enjoy (again).

Sitting quietly becomes meditation. Meditation becomes yoga. I’m more comfortable now, and in less pain. I’m still tired. A cup of tea sounds nice, and maybe the warm of a fire in the fireplace…

It's a very nice evening to treat myself well.

It’s a very nice evening to treat myself well.

There is a weekend of verbs ahead of me. Tonight I’ll take care of me quite simply, enjoy a nice cup of chamomile tea and a good book. That’s enough. 🙂

It’s true. This morning I woke well ahead of the alarm clock, but late enough that I initially figured I’d just go ahead and get up…I woke anxious. No obvious cause for the anxiety, at least in that waking moment that it was the thing owning my awareness. As I allowed myself to become conscious other things shifted into my awareness: my head was stuffy, and I had to pee. I got up to deal with those very practical matters, and as I did so I wondered if the source of my ‘anxiety’ was simply these biological experiences of being human – could I take a chance on returning to sleep? I might not sleep… I might sleep and wake up groggy… I could just cuddle up in the warm blankets awhile longer without worrying about sleep one way or the other – I felt ‘rested’, although I wasn’t convinced I wanted to be awake.

I pulled the covers around me, compromising on the sleep/no sleep dilemma by choosing meditation – in corpse pose, wrapped in blankets. lol I woke when the alarm went off, without any anxiety, and smiling. I noticed when I woke that the headache I had the night before was gone – suggesting perhaps it was not gone when I had awakened earlier. This would not be the first time I have beaten back anxiety by taking care of this fragile vessel in practical ways, and refraining from investing additional attention in the anxiety itself. I’m not sure it counts as a ‘practice’ and it’s not one of those ‘100% effective!’ things – there are definitely verbs involved, and a certain genial tolerance that it won’t always be so simple is definitely required.

How much of my anxiety used to be caused simply by treating myself poorly day-to-day, largely unaware of it, generally not paying any attention to my own needs until forced to by some emotional storm, or physical failure? How much anxiety was caused by simply not hearing myself, not giving myself the consideration and respect that I continued to seek in the world, and all the resentment that went along with not finding it anywhere?  I’m glad that things as simple (although not effortless) as meditation, good self-care, being considerate of my own needs and boundaries, and treating myself as well as I would ask others to treat me (and then some!) have so much power to reduce [my] anxiety. [Your results may vary.]

In spite of the headache and a trying day yesterday, I enjoyed hanging out with my traveling partner in the evening after work. It wasn’t a dinner date – we just hung out. It wasn’t a booty call. Seriously – we just hung out. We talked intimately, warmly, connecting on that heart & soul level so common to dear longtime friends – and often so rare in long-term romantic relationships of many years. We are not together ‘out of habit’, or ritual, or despair, or… He and I are together by choice. We enjoy each other greatly. We choose each other again and again. Literally ‘in sickness and in health’ – I am fortunate that my traveling partner on life’s journey is far more than a romantic partner – he’s a best friend, a partner in work and play, a cook in a shared kitchen, an adventurer with whom I can adventure, an adviser, a coach, a buddy, a wingman – and my dear love. I’m doubly fortunate that we are intellectual equals, have shared interests, and are similarly competent in very different areas of life – a hell of a partnership, honestly. 😀

Love.

Love.

This morning isn’t fancy or exciting, or extraordinary in any way. The anxiety is gone – no idea why it was there, or why it isn’t there now. Doesn’t matter, and I don’t plan to dig into it. It’s enough that the anxiety is gone, and a new day begins. I am sipping my coffee contentedly, listening to music. I’ll get some housework done before work, and when I get home I’ll have a quiet evening ahead of me – maybe a movie tonight? I lose interest almost immediately; I’m reading a book that really has my attention, and I’ll probably come home, make a cup of tea, put my feet up and read until evening fades to night.

When I was a kid still living at home, reading was my escape and my refuge from the drama of family life. When I became an adult, I lost that somehow – couldn’t read without some quiet, some stillness, fewer interruptions. Rather than find the quiet I needed, for many years I had mostly given up reading in favor of the condensed concentrated entertainment products available for video consumption. Easier. (Also a sharable experience – how many families endure their challenges by painting over them with a bland wash of media entertainment, rather than facing them and resolving them, talking together, using the verbs?) I began picking up books again at about the same time I begin writing this blog – the Reading List developed quickly as I gobbled up relevant books desperate to find my way out of The Nightmare City in which I seemed to be so trapped. I still read now, finding it intellectually nourishing, and a convenient way to continue to build on my understanding of life and the world, to keep my mind young, and the results are hard to argue with – learning does so much to keep life engaging and interesting!

My traveling partner asked me about the book in conversation. His gentle awareness of my injury is there in the background; he has learned to help out in so many little ways with my recovery, generally. He asks me about the book knowing I have trouble articulating material I am reading – answering the questions, as difficult as it can feel for me, is a way of solidifying new knowledge, and figuring out where I am not actually comprehending new material fully, for further review. I will come back to the book tonight eager to revisit ideas I tried – and failed – to share. The deeper understanding matters to continued growth. He listens patiently, and doesn’t press when I stumble – he knows I will come back to it with a deeper more complete understanding, having heard questions about the material that will help me build that deeper understanding, myself. There is so much power in partnership. The reciprocity is critical; I return the favor, listening deeply when he talks about his experience, too, asking questions, listening to the answers, feeling feelings, honoring experience – ‘being there’.

Be love.

Be love.

Maybe that’s really what makes a good partnership – the ‘being there’ in the moment, fully engaged in the interaction with that other person, no other agenda, not ‘waiting to talk’, no rush, no pressure – just together in a shared moment?

Today is a good day to share an experience with someone. Today is a good day to listen with my whole self, and give my undivided attention to someone’s words. Today is a good day to be, and to ‘be there’. Today is a good day to change the way I interact with the world. 🙂

This morning I woke from a deep sleep to the strident beeping of the alarm. It was some seconds before I puzzled out what that rather irritating sound actually was. I got up. Did some yoga. Showered. Dressed. Brain still sort of fuzzy, sort of foggy… I sat down at my desk, feeling half-aware ‘something is missing’ and uncertain what that might be…

For awhile I sat here, at my desk, browser open, sort of ‘wandering around the internet’ without purpose or intent. After some while it finally seeps through my consciousness… coffee. I had somehow entirely overlooked making coffee! I started that process and managed to complete it without hysterical laughter – or maddening frustration – and also managed to make very nearly every possible mistake along the way toward the singularly worst cup of coffee I have ever made for myself, possibly in a lifetime (no, that’s an exaggeration – I’ve made coffee that was much worse). This cup of coffee is somewhat bitter, and both somehow too strong and also somewhat insipid – ‘thin’ tasting. Did I remember to empty the hot water from rinsing the paper filter and warming the mug? I suspect not. I definitely ground too many beans – no idea how I managed that, and since I suspected about half what was ground may have been left from yesterday (?), I started over…but didn’t start with a new filter, also… I mean – seriously? Have I ever made coffee before this?

I start completely fresh, once more, and the result is an acceptable cup of coffee, and a clean pair of jeans. Wait – what? Yeah. This is a better cup of coffee, but while I took the first couple sips I was thinking over the earlier attempt(s), and started giggling…which I attempted to stifle, causing me to somehow… sneeze coffee into my lap (avoiding sneezing it into my keyboard). I stop to look at the calendar and wonder ‘how is this not a Monday?’. Followed quickly by some amusement that human beings can take themselves at all seriously, ever.

I consider myself pretty decent at making a cup of coffee…and yet…today. I smile at how messy being human can be, just about the same time I notice I’ve left the burner on… (I find myself wondering how it is no one has designed a safety feature for stoves that shuts off a burner if there is no weight on it for longer than x seconds or minutes… that would be pretty convenient.) What I’m not enduring this morning is any additional stress coming from me, myself, directed at me in frustration or annoyance over this morning’s… challenges. Self-directed ire over such small things doesn’t have much positive value – it doesn’t improve the situation, or effectively cope with it, and tends to complicate matters by putting my heightened potential for frustration or anger between me and any other human being I may interact with later.  Giving myself a break and having a little humor about such things seems so much less likely to push me in the direction of having a crappy experience for an entire day. Bad cup of coffee? That’s just one cup of coffee, one moment of many, and such a small thing that it is literally possible to ‘do it over’ – what would be the point of becoming irate over it? Who would that serve?

More than an hour after waking, my brain finally seems to be coming on-line. I am beginning to feel alert – and it isn’t really the coffee. A few sips of coffee are not really so magical as to provide instant alertness, awareness, and presence – it’s just taking me awhile to wake up completely this morning, most probably due in part to changes in how I manage my medication and my pain on work days. Effective self-care is a complicated puzzle, and timing matters. Change is a thing, and it may take me a couple of groggy mornings to get back to a comfortable work routine. I take a minute to be patient with myself, and to consider the morning; are there steps I can take to be more comfortable, sooner? Is it a matter of patience, and practice? Are there some tweaks to my timing on pain medication that will prevent me being so groggy first thing?

A helpful reminder; I apply it equally to how I speak to myself these days.

A helpful reminder; I apply it equally to how I speak to myself these days.

Being human has its complicated bits and challenging moments. I’m not fighting it or looking for shortcuts. This isn’t a bad morning and, aside from a bad cup of coffee already replaced with a better cup of coffee, the day begins well. I will approach the rest of it one task at a time, one moment at a time, and enjoy the journey – the journey is going to happen either way, enjoying it just makes sense.

At some point in during the wee hours, I surfaced sufficiently from a sound sleep to notice how incredibly peculiarly strangely quiet the world seemed, and then returned to sleep. When I woke fully, some hours later, I noticed the apartment was chillier than usual and went to check the thermostat and whether I had closed the flue the night before. The faint glow of morning slipped past the vertical blinds of the patio door near me, and I opened them to see the dawn unfold (we’ve had a couple sunny days back to back) – but there is no sunshine this morning; it’s snowing! I smile – to myself, at the snow, at the thought of coffee, at how good it is to be warm and safe instead of out there, in the cold and the snow, and head to the kitchen to make coffee.

Some snow. (Don't laugh, it's still snowing.)

Some snow. (Don’t laugh, it’s still snowing.)

I put all the Giftmas decor into storage yesterday. Waking up this morning to neither a lavishly decorated tree covered in tiny lights nor a tower of boxes needing to be put away was strange; my wee apartment feels quite spacious for the moment. Today I will take time to put the household entirely in order, an easier commitment with the weather outside likely to encourage me to stay indoors. The small details matter, and one thing I learned when I moved into my own place and a solitary lifestyle is that those small details matter most (for me) when I wake, and when I arrive home from elsewhere. That ‘first impression’ in the moment, when I step into my apartment, or into my living room first thing in the morning, set the tone of my experience and how well-cared for I feel by the woman in the mirror.

An example of how much the small details matter; I generally leave the house having tidied up such that when I return home, it is to a well-cared-for tidy living space that supports my emotional need for order, and my desire to relax at the end of the day – I do much of my housework in the mornings, for that reason (after coffee, but before I leave for wherever). Yesterday, I rushed off on my morning errand, having gotten a tad behind schedule, and did so without starting the dishwasher (or frankly, loading it) – and when I returned home, it was to dirty dishes in the sink. Holy cow I was irked with myself! The dishes don’t get less gross, or in any way more appealing, sitting there longer – so of course, I immediately put away the groceries I had arrived with, and did the dishes straight away. The result? My return home did not feel relaxed and easy – it felt a bit rushed and busy. (Since this isn’t my preference, I don’t generally do things this way. 🙂 )

It’s rare to see dishes in my sink at all. Of course, the one day over the holidays that there are dishes in my sink is a day when my traveling partner and I arrive at my place at about the same time. Yep. I found myself feeling mildly ashamed of the state of my apartment, which contributed to the speed with which I made things right upon my arrival. He offered no criticism. I make a reflex apology nonetheless, although my apartment stays generally quite tidy, and I am obligated only to myself regardless. This morning, I smile when I step into the very tidy little kitchen. I totally made things right with the woman in the mirror yesterday, and today I find myself content with things as they are.

Maintaining a state of ongoing contentment requires the generous (and skillful) use of verbs, and a good measure of self-awareness. Maybe it’s not the dishes that bug you – maybe it’s the trash? Or unmade beds? Or a dirty toilet or shower? Or carpets that need to be vacuumed?  Me, personally, I enjoy a certain overall state of ‘order’ – so all those things matter. Being easily distracted, impulsive, and a tad disinclined to perform manual labor during leisure hours, it’s easy for me to lose track and suddenly my place is a mess, which definitely correlates to my state of mind becoming disordered, too. It’s a mental health connection that is a known thing – there’s science on that. Taking care of me definitely involves some verbs quite specifically related to general housekeeping, and while it’s not my preferred way to pass time, I so love the way it feels to live in an orderly well-kept space it is both in my best interests and very much worth the investment in will, energy, and time to do the verbs.  I’ve been very pleased with how well I have managed this area of my life, generally, living alone. “Being messy” just hasn’t been an issue, although I had had concerns that it might be when I moved into my apartment. 🙂 I take a moment to appreciate how far I’ve come – making time to savor successes is another ‘small detail’ that is a very big deal.

Something to look forward on the other side of the work to be done.

Something to look forward on the other side of the work to be done.

The snow continues to fall. Later there will be a fire in the fireplace…sometime after chores are finished. In the meantime, I will enjoy my second coffee and a bite of breakfast, plan my day, and enjoy the falling snow. 🙂

I am having a very good day. It’s wintry and quite cold – literally freezing – and I built my day around a practical sort of errand that didn’t turn out as planned, and another that turned out quite precisely as planned, and in between I hung out with my traveling partner for a little while. A very good day, indeed.

What matters most?

What matters most?

The afternoon sunshine streams through the patio door, heating my wee apartment nicely; it’s a wasted effort if I forget to close the vertical blinds as the sun begins to dip low, because the heat gained is quickly lost through the glass on a cold day, once the sunshine is gone. There is a luxurious quality to the passive heat of sunshine on glass that my senses tell me differs from the heat of the heater, although I have no way to confirm that very subjective perception. I just enjoy the feeling of the sunshine reaching through the glass, across the room, and bathing me in light and warmth. It’s a lovely moment, in spite of this headache, which developed some short time ago, while I stood in the cold waiting for a bus. I suspect it will dissipate with continued comfort, warmth, and a nice cup of tea or coffee… It’s a bit late for coffee; I decide on tea and put on the kettle and some classical music. Baroque – light on the ears, gentle on the soul, it fills out the background with something more pleasant that the sound of the dishwasher.

What does this new year hold, I wonder? Beyond changes in healthcare, beyond moving into a somewhat bigger apartment very soon, beyond replanting the vegetable garden in spring or pruning the roses next fall, beyond the days and weeks of everyday chores and everyday fun, I know the year holds surprises and changes that I have not anticipated or planned for. I wonder what those will be? How convenient if I really could plan for those, too! I can’t plan for the unknown as fully as I might for what I deliberately undertake, but there are a lot of little ways I can keep myself ready, generally, for all manner of changes. Taking care of me is a pursuit with a lot of layers, and a lot of potential to support me through periods of change, or a real crisis. I took time to think over a lot of that yesterday, meditating on what demands on my resources and time the move will make, and how best to prepare for it without throwing my current quality of life into the trash. Ideally, no matter what changes come my way I will stay focused on my longer term goals, and my everyday taking-care-of-me needs by maintaining the good practices I have worked so hard to build.

Again and again, I find value in the concepts of ‘perspective’ and ‘sufficiency’; I can’t know everything another person is going through, but I can listen deeply and be compassionate, and there is little chance I can ‘have it all’ in life – the vast amount of wealth required remains out of reach for me – but ‘having‘ has proven to be rather irrelevant once basic needs are met. There is so much more to a rich life than expensive goods or exotic services. “Enough” matters more than ‘more’. My understanding of ‘quality of life’ has changed. The smile on my face matters more than ‘being right’, and contentment has proven easily achievable once I let go of expectations and assumptions about life’s entitlements, and stopped letting experiences other than my own have any weight in determining my path.

There are a lot of questions still to ask. The best answers I find tend to involve kindness, compassion, treating myself and others truly well, and being engaged and present in this moment right here, with the human being(s) physically in my company ‘in real life’ – and getting enough sleep. It’s probably not a coincidence that when I began taking a closer look at how I treated people and making changes in favor of treating people better (including me), people began to treat me better, too. It’s worth noticing. It doesn’t hurt to mention that when people do treat me poorly, I no longer internalize that experience, making it about me; people who treat others badly are making a statement about themselves, and although it is an unpleasant experience to have, it isn’t ‘about me’ at all. These are small things, each taken individually – but they have mattered so much! The Four Agreements was a good starting point on this journey. I smile, recalling the day my traveling partner recommended it to me, back in 2010. We have come so far together!

Soft music, the warmth of a fire, a pleasantly fragrant cup of tea, and quiet time in which to write...enough? So much more than enough.

Soft music, the warmth of a fire, a pleasantly fragrant cup of tea, and quiet time in which to write. Some of life’s riches don’t have a dollar value.

It’s another winter day. I have a headache, but so far it’s not affecting my mood. There is a fire crackling in the fireplace now, and an early dinner in the oven. I have no special plans, and no need for entertainment or distraction; the day is fine as it is. Quiet. I am content. This is enough. 🙂