Archives for category: Words

It’s a Winter Sunday. Cold. Clear. My coffee is hot. My playlist is bumpin’ as I sip and write. I started the morning with a hot shower. I’ve been writing notes and emails to distant friends. Thank you cards to family who sent holiday cards (I never got my shit together enough to send cards this year, lol).

I sip my coffee and think about places I’ve been, and people I’ve met. I think about moments. Connections. Things still unfinished – or never started. I think about places I’ve yet to travel, that still sound interesting and worth a visit. I think about people I haven’t seen in years, and wonder how they are. It’s that sort of moment. I just go with it. No tears, no sorrow. It’s just a moment to appreciate other moments. Later, it’ll be a different moment, with other qualities. It’s a Sunday. Probably housekeeping. Maybe art. 🙂

I think about my Traveling Partner, and those precious moments. This isn’t a fancy morning. I don’t have any grand plans. I’m in a bit of pain. I’m feeling okay anyway. It’s a pleasant, rather ordinary Winter morning with nothing much going on. I’m okay with that; it’s a moment worth embracing. (Honestly, most of them are.)

I read that Thich Nhat Hanh died. I don’t know that I have much to add. He gave me so much. We never met. I continue to read and appreciate his words.

As with most things – even moments – this too shall pass. It’s time to begin again. 🙂

I’m listening to my Traveling Partner gaming with his son (online), in another room. I am also listening to the trash pick-up going on beyond the house, on the street. I hear the sound of my fingers on this “quiet” manual keyboard. As much as any of those, I hear the sound of my tinnitus. Leaving aside the question of whether the sounds of my tinnitus are “real” or something else to be considered another day (because honestly it truly does not matter to the lived experience), it’s loud today. I keep putting my focus on some other known, definite, external sound to distract me from the distraction of my tinnitus. Each time I do, I push it to the background for a little while. It’s not a perfect system, but it keeps me from feeling as if my hearing is actually impaired from moment to moment. My hearing of external sounds is mostly pretty okay, aside from some frequencies that are simply buried by the tinnitus. I shrug it off, but have to admit that I have grown to rely more on being able to see the person speaking to me to be certain I am really hearing them quite correctly.

…I smirk at myself when I momentarily ascribe the experience of my tinnitus on “aging”; my tinnitus is an old “friend” from as far back as the mid 80s. I used to work seated next to a long bank of noisy equipment, and trust me the U.S. Army did not give two shits about hearing protection, at that time. I still hear a repeating snippet of Morse code, as if very distant, buried in the noise of my tinnitus, but only on the left side. LOL Mostly it sounds a bit like … “garden bells”, without any of the clinks or sounds of contact between bells, just the sort of shimmery tones left behind. It might almost be pleasant if it were not so endless and persistent. And distracting.

My pain is pretty bad today. My tinnitus is noisy. Some pain remedies make the tinnitus worse. Choices. I’ll be glad when Winter is over with; my arthritis is usually not as bad in warm dry weather.

The weekend is ahead. I’m tired. Eager to go somewhere… do something… or… sleep. LOL When I sleep… no tinnitus.

This morning I am grooving to the sound of new beats from an old friend. I’m sipping my coffee, feeling relaxed, loved, and even “merry”. It’s a pleasant, leisurely Sunday morning. My pleasant moment is interrupted by a commercial interruption on Soundcloud; an ad break between tracks. I roll my eyes, look for any chance to skip it (that doesn’t amount to paying for a subscription to a rarely used service), and settle on ignoring it for the required 31 seconds. It’s a distraction, and not a pleasant one; this is “where we are” culturally – our attention held in servitude to commercial endeavors, with or without our consent.

I sip my coffee and think about the media, my shorter attention span, the nature of likes, clicks, and views, and the monetization of human attention, and individual data. I think about our “global culture” – and how it sometimes seems “the fabric of society” is being torn apart…only… that’s just one perspective on a very complex, only somewhat shared experience. While there certainly seem to be “norms” and commonplace expectations of a dominant group in our social hierarchy being challenged, undermined, and perhaps also “misused”… There are also huge swaths of humanity who were never invited to that party, who don’t (and did not) have the advantages that are said to be being “undermined”, and for whom the system as it is has existed is punitive, hostile, prejudiced, and has long prevented them from thriving as groups. Labeled, cut-off from the benefits of “mainstream” society, and worse still often shamed for “doing it to themselves” instead of humble acknowledgement of inequities in our laws and institutions, so many people in so many places see patterns that amount to willful inhumanity. Fixing that mess… now that’s a global challenge for a global society. Will we fix our mess before the clock runs out on humanity’s presence on this planet?

I let the beats carry my thoughts onward… sipping my coffee and a glass of water, sort of in alternation.

I think about the day’s housekeeping tasks ahead of me. I think about getting a walk in on some nearby trail – if the day warms up just a little. I think about maybe baking brownies and trying a different recipe, seeking that exceptional brownie result. None of these thoughts, however delightful, have anything whatsoever to do with the actual outcome; that requires some verbs. Real action. Choices. Follow-through.

…Another fucking advertisement begins to play in the background. I do not give a shit about the advertiser or the product. I tune it out…

Patterns in my life; I do housekeeping on Sundays, generally. When I write, most of the time, I write in the morning. There is a cadence, a rhythm, to the day-to-day, and to each week. When I write, or think, or reflect, or daydream, there is often some kind of thread that connects my thoughts. When I struggle, there is often another sort of “thread” that, once tugged, begins to unravel some bit of baggage or bullshit. Noticing a pattern, pulling on that thread, following a path; all these things lead me onward. Even these beats in my ears right now, and so also in my head, guide me along my human experience, giving me a pace, a flow, a sort of carrier wave upon which the signal that is my own individual experience can be layered. My breathing shifts; slower and more even with the chill ambient beats. Glacial. Slow perspective. Ease.

Another advertisement? Really?? Fucking hell…

The beat shifts again, energizing me, lifting me, bring a smile to my face and an eagerness to my moment. My breathing is a bit faster. I feel an increasing readiness to move on with the day. There is a rhythm to the tasks and habits and routines I set for myself. It works for me, mostly. When it doesn’t, breaking down the missed moment, the lost beat, the unraveling thread into smaller parts gives me a chance to understand myself a bit better, and to creep ever closer to being the person I most want to be.

…It’s not “everything”, it’s only “something” – sometimes something is enough. 🙂 It is, at least, enough on which to begin again. 😀

Today, I’ll do my best. I’ve got a list. I’ve got all day. 🙂 It’s enough.

We’ve all got a story (or stories) to tell, haven’t we? (It’s a rhetorical question. We do.) So often, it also feels as if “no one is listening” – even if they just fucking asked for a bedtime story. LOL Being human sometimes seems needlessly complicated.

My Traveling Partner stopped into the studio with chocolates and a smile. I’d just finished with a phone call he’d earlier expressed interest about, wanting to know the outcome. So… okay… I start to share, but the timing is a poor fit – he’s livestreaming, and needs to get back to that rather promptly. I’m invited to come along to where he’s sitting, to share any relevant (to his experience) information. Cool. Awesome – I do that. Only… I’ve misread the moment and begin to go down the path of “sharing my story”, instead of simply “answering his question”. Those are rather different things, in any conversation. 🙂 I get it wrong a lot, and I work on it often. Story-telling is about a carefully crafted narrative with a “larger purpose” (sometimes educational, sometimes entertainment, sometimes something else) than just answering a simple question. Stories have meaning and context and plot and are about more than one question, one answer. He sets a clear boundary in the moment; he’s not available for a story right then, and recognizing that is already a win for me. 🙂 I answer the simple question and walk away, and although I still needed to deal with my momentary hurt feelings (no one likes rejection, and being shut down pretty much reliably feels like rejection, regardless of the intent), the interaction felt like a “win”, generally.

I get over my emotional moment pretty quickly. Realistically, his idea of an interesting story and mine are quite different, anyway, and I too-often overwhelm him with narrative details that are neither useful nor actually interesting to him. Better communication skills are still something I work on – a lot. Every bit of progress I make is useful in all my relationships (personal or professional).

I turn my head left, to my other monitor. Another sort of “carefully crafted narrative” is unfolding there, and I watch the video as it does. The work day is already over. I think about the afternoon ahead. Other moments. Other stories to tell. More opportunities to practice skillful communication, and more chances to be the person I most want to be. It’s a journey. I take a moment to think about the many miles I’ve walked on many trails… and the stories I could tell. They don’t all need telling. They don’t all have an audience, if they do. 🙂 Figuring out the difference is one more thing to practice.

I stayed up “late” last night with my Traveling Partner – somehow managed to wake up early this morning. lol S’okay, my coffee is hot, and it tastes “good” in that way coffee does (and doesn’t; it’s an acquired taste, I think). It’s a work day after a long holiday weekend. The morning is a chilly one, sort of, but at 45 degrees Fahrenheit, hardly reaches the potential for “the first day of Winter”. One of the perks of life in the Pacific Northwest, I guess; at least for now, winter is a mild season. The forecast hints at some small potential for snow on Giftmas, more likely on New Year’s weekend. Am I eager for the snow? I don’t know that I have any particular enthusiasm or reluctance, though I know I am likely to be as kiddy as a school kid to see it when it falls. lol

Yesterday, I took note of the season’s change with a longish walk in a nearby wildlife refuge. It was a lovely day, mostly on the sunny side, after many days of rain. It was a day well-spent in gentle contemplation and ease.

A lovely day for a walk along a path that wanders between meadow, marsh, and riverbank.

After many days of rain, the rivers are swollen and many have exceeded their usual path, flowing over into low-lying areas beyond their banks. It’s not a surprise. I see it nearer to home; the wee creek at the edge of the property is, itself, well-beyond the capacity of it’s banks, the ground beyond on all sides soaked, puddled, and marshy. Hard to get a clear picture through the trees and the berry vines. I feel fortunate that the water level seems to stay just beyond our little yard quite reliably.

…Another holiday behind us, other holidays ahead…

I sip my coffee thinking about the weekend that has so recently ended, and all the small details that made it so lovely. In the background, my Traveling Partner’s voice. I have on one of his flight simulator videos as a sort of “alarm clock”; it’ll end just at the time I want to redirect my attention to work for the day. 😀 His soothing tone, focused on the process in front of him, is pleasant and “feels like home”. Content creation is an involved endeavor, and I’m impressed with his will and progress, and I enjoy his work. I let the details of a weekend of love and conversation drift by in my thoughts, and smile.

…This is good coffee…

2021 begins to end… we’ve had our “longest night”, and it’s time for the days to slowly begin to grow longer. It’s time to begin again. 😀