I sat down with my coffee to write a few words, after a restless, interrupted night’s sleep (I woke several times, though I only got up twice, quite briefly), and a somewhat tense commute. Humans being human. I started with “No Good-Guys” as my working title, because I started my day already disappointed in humanity. Mine. Everyone else’s. Just… yeah. All kinds of annoyance with the fundamentals of people doing the things people do. I mean, ffs, even children don’t get a pass (a six year old shoots a teacher?! a 10-year old shoots a friend over a bicycle race?? what the hell?) – the world feels very messy, chaotic, and whether I view the world through the lens of the media reporting, or simply my own day-to-day experience of self and others… it’s not looking good. I’m disappointed and vexed by both the circumstances that find me feeling this way, and the feeling itself.
…Emotions are not reality, I remind myself, the map is not the world…
I breathe, exhale, relax – and sip my coffee. What can I do better, myself? Probably a fucking lot. I could do more to communicate more clearly and more gently. I could work harder/more attentively at being a good listener. Good places to start. Probably for 100% of everyone out there, it would at least be a worthy starting point.
I sigh out loud. It breaks the stillness in this quiet morning place. I haven’t lost my interest in living – that’s something, anyway. I sit with my thoughts awhile. I think mostly about love, and how irksome it is that loving well and deeply over time isn’t easier than it seems to be (at least for me, with my hearty helping of chaos and damage, and a lifetime of baggage to deal with). The work involved in being the human being I most want to be, reliably, consistently, skillfully… fucking hell, it’s a lot of work. Sisyphean just about covers it. Every step forward on this path seems followed by some irritating detour or setback, and I find myself harshly judgmental of my efforts and deeply critical of my failures. I could do better there, too.
In a moment of harsh words, my Traveling Partner asked me to “set a better example”, to “model the behavior” I’m asking for, and to “show what that looks like”… which, strangely, caught me by surprise with A) its utter reasonableness and B) how truly difficult that looked in my head when I gave it a moment of thought, later. Yeesh. Fucking human primates – we think we know what we want, but again and again we set ourselves up for failure. We’re not actually all that good at being wise, or being kind, or being consistent, or being nurturing, or being positive, or being supportive, or being open, or… I guess what I’m saying is that this is a difficult journey in spots.
…I find myself asking “am I the bad guy?”, and having to admit that at least sometimes, yeah, I totally am. Well, shit. Okay, then. I guess I’ve got to work on that…
My coffee manages to go cold between the start and end of this fairly brief bit of writing, today. It’s a reflection of how often I stopped to ponder some point at length, and how deeply I am thinking some of this over, although I don’t think I’m really “getting anywhere” – at least not yet. There are more thoughts to think, more practices to practice, more work to be done – the journey is long, and there is no map. I guess I’ve just got to begin again.
I’m sitting at the trailhead, early on a Saturday morning before dawn, listening to the rain on the windows of my car. I watch the lights of passing cars on the nearby highway sweep over the soggy roadside and the marsh beyond. I am waiting for a break in the rain and for the gate to the park to open. I won’t have to wait much longer on the gate, it opens at daybreak.
I’m sipping an iced espresso, more ice than coffee, and thinking about yesterday. New job. Well… Same job, but as a full-time employee rather than a contractor. I’m smiling as I recall the moment, because my boss seemed every bit as excited to make the offer as I was to receive it, and said some pretty great things about the work I’ve done so far. It feels really good to get that kind of validation.
… I remind myself not to take the compliments personally, just as I would if I had been grievously insulted; they’re words. Opinions. Impressions in the moment. They provoke an emotional reaction, sure, but my own lived experience reminds me they guarantee nothing and provide no assurance of a particular outcome.
… Still… I’m pleased and excited. It’s a step I wanted to take and it puts me in a good place for the year ahead. I sit quietly with the feeling of eagerness and contentment for awhile, waiting for daybreak.
Daybreak comes. The park gate opens. The geese begin their day and I hear them honking at each other before I see them overhead. The rain just keeps coming down steadily. Too rainy to bring the camera out. I wait, still hopeful I might get a break in the rain sufficient to walk a couple miles along the soggy marsh trails. Maybe. Maybe not.
I sit wondering what to do with the day before remembering it’s time to take down all the holiday decor and put it away for another year. I’d almost forgotten all about it. lol My heart is still celebrating, I suppose. It’s not that there’s all that much joy available in the world right now, more that it is more urgent that we savor the joy there is.
I sip my coffee (honestly more ice water than coffee at this point) swirling it in the cup to hear the ice rattle. Life can change so quickly. I sit with my thoughts, my joys, my sorrows. I enjoy the pleasant stillness and solitude awhile. No agenda. No demands on my time or attention. Just this moment, the rain, and the sounds of the geese… It’s enough.
I’m frustrated, sorrowful, and filled with fury. Emotional weather. I don’t know where I’ll be standing when this storm passes, but I’m not in a good place right now.
Breathe. Exhale. Relax. Repeat.
Drink water.
Stand up and stretch. Maybe take a walk.
Breathe. More. Find that calm place.
My heart is pounding so hard it rocks my entire body, and my clenched jaw makes my headache just that much worse.
…Where does this path lead?
…What matters most?
…That woman I most want to be? What would she do, right now?
Another breath. Deep, and steady. “Forcing calm” is a bit like shaking someone and yelling at them to “be mindful!!” – not especially effective, however well intended, but I’ll get there at some point. This moment, here, now, is difficult.
Breathe. Exhale. Relax. Repeat.
…What matters most? Finding a way to hold space for empathy and compassion. Finding patience and kindness in my heart. The effort feels superhuman, and I am so tired…
…These are just emotions… I can choose my actions…
Breathe. Exhale. Relax. Repeat. Keep at it. I’ll get through this. It’s a moment, nothing more than that, whatever the outcome.
Here it is the first day of a new year. I’m sipping my second coffee, which is quite good (primarily because I enjoy coffee – not everyone would feel similarly, and I recognize that it is an “acquired taste”). I am thinking over the year ahead and specifically, giving thought to “doing more better” and making progress on personal goals. I’m not inclined to making “resolutions”, but I have ideas of what matters most to me, what sorts of things will help me thrive and achieve and maintain better wellness, and even what sorts of things I’d just frankly really like to do, see, or enjoy in my life. It’s a finite thing, this mortal life, and it makes sense to take steps to “make it my own”, or “leave my mark”, or simply thoroughly enjoy a life well-lived. So, yeah… thinking about it.
The obvious stuff is… obvious. Tidying up the chaos that has accumulated during the busy holidays while also carrying for my injured Traveling Partner makes a lot of sense. Very practical. Healthy – the real-world chaos in my living environment tends to rather directly reflect the likely chaos in my own inner world as well. With that in mind, it seems to easy to grab a quick win, here, by finally unpacking (no kidding, and omg) from my coastal getaway earlier in December, and picking things up in my studio, which was left in chaos after I spent a weekend making holiday cards. Very practical. Very much within the reach of my abilities and my energy (I think).
A subtler detail like “finding a home” for the Tachikoma model my Traveling Partner gifted me, and which I built over the holidays, would be a pleasing “small win” to begin a new year… it’s not a tiny model, and I’d like to put it somewhere that I can see it often and enjoy it, and contemplate next steps for giving it some “aging” details and “realism”. (It’s amazing how much real delight this project has already given me.) Funny thing, though, it’s the sort of placement of an object that relies heavily on tidying up other chaos, first, or the placed object quickly topples from it’s beloved status to become just more clutter. So… I’m back to the necessary tidying up, which clearly has to come first.
…I sip my coffee and consider the matter from the perspective of an analogy for greater things, and a metaphor of life’s interplay of complex and simple. We walk our own path. We make our own choices. The “map” does matter…but we’re drafting that map while we explore this life, so… it’s not very handy as maps go, for making decisions about the next steps. It mostly just tells us where we’ve been.
…Speaking of “where I’ve been”, I really should update my Life in Weeks chart…
I look around this rather cluttered room. I’m glad now that I didn’t take a walk this morning. Although it would have been lovely to see the mists on the marsh, and hear the cries of the flocks of birds taking flight as the sun rises, it would fill me with optimism and contentment, too satisfied, too soon, for taking on the matter of “what next, 2024?”. My Traveling Partner encouraged me to stay home. We shared a few moments over coffee, before I began yawning. He encouraged me to go back to bed with a laugh, and I did so, thinking I’d be unlikely to sleep in spite of my general fatigue lately. How wrong I was! I woke more than two hours later, feeling substantially refreshed and much more rested. He was still asleep, himself, having also gone back to bed. I happily picked up the book I’m reading, and sat sipping what remained of my first cup of coffee, contentedly reading, losing myself in some other world, some other time. I do love reading… always have.
This brings me to another thing I’m looking ahead to; more reading. The convenience and easy availability of video content of all sorts (short and long formats) isn’t at all the same as reading a book. It just “hits different”. Videos, whether documentaries or fictions or news, are a bit more like grabbing a quick meal at a fast food place than they are like sitting down to a “real meal” at home (which, for me, is the “book” analog). The short format YouTube videos I definitely enjoy are very much akin to pulling through the drive through to grab a large order of fries and a coke; delicious, but there’s nothing at all nutritious about it, and as satisfying as it may seem in the moment, it leaves me wanting, and is probably actually bad for me. lol My Traveling Partner and I, seeking more/better, are talking about returning to “durable media” for things like movies and music, and canceling most streaming services. We don’t care for the strange empty experience of “doom-scrolling” or flipping endlessly through feeds that lack content we really want to consume, and the recent announcement from Amazon that they’ll be bringing ads to paid premium streaming customers is just… unacceptable. They’re definitely not going to continue getting our money. lol Streaming was definitely a lovely convenience, but I don’t at all like what the providers of such services have done with it. So… why take part?
The choices aren’t always “easy”. Giving up social media years ago? Hard. Have I regretted it? Not at all. It’s been very good for me, though it’s been an uncomfortable fit for some relationships with distant folks. Our choices and actions come at a cost. That’s just real. I make a point of mentioning it because although the cost is often “worth it” that doesn’t necessary mean it is an easy price to pay. (I think about my busted up back, which was the price I paid to survive my first marriage… a high price to be sure, but very much worth it.)
So… tidying up. Good one. Read more books. Yep, I’ve even got a list.
Other things that I see as having potential to make 2024 a better year (for me)? More miles on my boots day-to-day – fewer short walks, more longer ones. I managed to hit 500 miles in 2023 (that was my goal). Maybe in 2024 I can reach 750? I’ll try. That will mean making a point to be on the trail no less than an hour every time I go for a walk, if I walk every single day (because I also need time to take pictures!)… surely I’m worth an hour of my own time? 😀 I know that I am. So…
Tidying up. Read more books. Walk more miles…
I think I’d also like to make a very practical point of taking better care of myself, generally. I mean, cooking more healthier meals at home, and eating less fast food. I also mean staying more committed and true to my mediation practice, and not allowing myself to take shortcuts that undermine my emotional resilience, leaving me fragile and easily provoked by the world’s madness. Staying on top of my physical health, too, would do me a lot of good – it’s hard sometimes; I’m frustrated before I ever see a doctor, anticipating being blown off or gas-lighted, because I have been so many times before. But… this fragile meat suit needs care, and failing to care for it will legitimately have the potential to shorten my life, a life I am enjoying, and wish to continue to enjoy. So.
Tidying up. Read more books. Walk more miles. Eat healthier food more often. Meditate more consistently. Follow up with my doctor properly about shit that persists in being a problem. Damn. That’s a good looking year ahead of me, if I stick with it. 🙂
This is not about resolutions, though. If I try to make it so, I’m pretty much committing to failure I think. lol That seems the way of it. Instead, my approach will be to stay aware of what I want out of my life, and what it takes to have that, and what verbs are involved. Do those verbs. Repeat. Being committed to doing those things to enjoy those outcomes is, in a sense, it’s own goal. Setting myself up for failure and lobbing a bunch of self-criticism and negative self-talk at myself won’t actually be helpful… so I think I’ll skip doing those things. lol
…I guess I’ll add that I’d like to do more camping and hiking – more time spent constructively alone, instead of beefing silently about how hard it is to “hear myself think” or get a few minutes to myself. Create the world I want to be part of, even on this small scale. Care for myself.
…Crap! I really need to make more shower steamers, too… I’ve run out…
Seems like maybe a lot to commit to… doesn’t it? I’ll point out that it is all – every bit of it – stuff I really enjoy and like to do (yes, even the tidying up, though that’s more complicated than pure enjoyment and delight). Taking pleasure in the doing seems a likely way to put myself on the path to success with these things, I think. We’ll have to compare notes at the end of 2024 (I make a reminder on my calendar to check in with myself… did I “get there”?).
It’s the first day of a new year… and already time to begin again. 😀
It’s your path. Walk it because you want to. The journey is the destiation.
I’m sipping my coffee “treat” this morning, enjoying the unusual flavor combination of a maple-sage cashew-milk latte. It’s very nice. Rich and velvety on my tongue, with the taste of sage and coffee hitting my senses first, and seeming quite festive, with the subtler notes of the maple and the cashew milk making me think twice about what it was I just tasted. Interesting. I don’t have lattes very often, and it’s a pleasant holiday treat.
This morning I am thinking about forgiveness and atonement. I’m thinking about forgiveness because I was once a 20-something woman of such ferocity and bitterness towards life that I commonly snarled (in response to any suggestion that some particularly heinous experiences in my life might warrant “forgiveness”) that “there are some sins even your god does not forgive”, before turning my back to walk away, radiating seething suppressed rage. I’m not sure I still stand in those same shoes, these days, nor do I feel at all certain that it’s a good place to be as an individual. On the other hand, there remains a certain someone who was once in my life of whom it is hard to hold any thought but “fuck that bitch”, with anger teetering on an urge for violence. Her narcissistic machinations left me damaged. Worse still, she hurt my Traveling Partner and did her damnedest to end his relationship with me. But… Holding on to that pain and impotent rage? That’s not at all who I want to be. So… as my Traveling Partner has suggested many times, I’m probably overdue to sort that shit out and move on. Forgiveness isn’t about her, it’s for me.
Atonement is something different. Atonement requires me to acknowledge the part I’ve played in some kind of wrong, and to do something to make it right. Acknowledgement. Contrition. Apology. Reparation. It’s the hard work of being real about being human. Big stuff and small stuff, we all fuck shit up. We all hurt people sometimes. Being a better human being than I was yesterday means coming to terms with the things I’ve done that hurt someone else or created real harm, and doing something to set things right.
…I see a lot of thoughtful self-reflection and contemplation coming my way…
What about when the forgiveness is self-forgiveness? What about when the wrongs were against myself – how do I atone for those hurts, too? How much of this is about me, and how much is in pursuit of healthier relationships and a better world, generally? (Does that matter, at all?)
I sip my delicious latte and think my thoughts. Soon it will be time to put some kind thinking into action. Then I’ll begin again.
Evening Light 