Archives for category: Words

Is it becoming more common to be less specific? I understand the general concept of “vague-booking”; we post a generalization of our experience in order to share an emotional experience without creating drama for ourselves or some specific other individual. I mean, I think generally our intention there is good, but… the meta message we end up communicating is incredibly easy to agree with… even if we are, in fact, entirely in the wrong in the context of our circumstances and decision-making. More than once, I have found, after-the-fact, that I’ve appeared to “agree with” something fairly terrible, when actually, I had no idea what had actually gone on… I only read the vague post about it, which, lacking context, seemed easy to agree with. Awkward.

…On the other hand, I also dislike drama, and tend to do some vague-booking chasing down the meta-learning available to me in every day experiences. 🙂 There’s a balance that I look for, and I hope (and attempt) not to be “agreed with” in error by people I know would object, if only they knew what was “really going on”. See, there’s the thing, right? If I’ve been so vague that it is not possible at all to ascertain what is “really going on”, then my vague-booking could actually be misleading to the point of deception, and that’s not at all what I’m about as a human being. So. There’s that.

This is where my morning begins. Thoughts about vague-booking over coffee. 🙂

The semantic and logical distance one must cover to get from “vague-booking” to this blog isn’t really very far. I use my real actual life to “sort myself out”, finding meta messages and simple learning in even some fairly complex nuanced circumstances. Sometimes that requires a bit of over-simplification. Sometimes, kind of a lot actually, I have to “sanitize” the details to avoid hurting someone’s feelings, or undermining their individual privacy (or mine) – vague happens. Vague is a craft. The point is not to mislead, but to craft a sharable narrative that illustrates a point, supports a useful practice, offers perspective or reassurance, or even merely entertains; the mundane details would often get in the way of one or more of those goals, and may even be irrelevant.

Being skillfully vague sometimes allows me to understand circumstances more easily without feeling as hurt by them. That’s also a thing. 🙂

I’m admittedly uncomfortable when I see vague-booking used to amass allies to a cause or to seek agreement with an opinion or “side” of things, though, because the lack of specificity in that instance can create false alliances so easily, or result in a feeling of betrayal once people understand more about what they’ve agreed to, or with. It’s an emotional dirty trick to use vague-booking specifically to “sound like the good guy”, in the face of strong evidence that indeed you may be the bad guy. Just saying. Approval-seeking behavior from super-villains isn’t something to encourage. It’s pretty easy, though, to get our friends – particularly far away friends – to agree we’ve been treated terribly, if they never actually know the context, the origin, the circumstances, or the participants, and only ever read how hurt we are, separated from our own actions, and the details of the experience.

Words over coffee… I’m not sure I’ve gotten anywhere with this, this morning… not really. Like the topic, itself, the outcome is vague.

I guess I’ll begin again. 😉

 

I recently read a meme or a post or an observation somewhere to the effect that we “don’t owe” “basic human decency” to [insert preferred list of “bad people” here]. I found myself astonished that “basic human decency” is so often seen as something we provide on a limited basis, and only to specific qualifying individuals. Then I laughed. Then I felt incredibly saddened. Seriously? “Basic human decency” is something to aspire to because we are human – and decent. It’s a literal baseline for decency; the minimum we offer, because “decent” is a human quality we cultivate. We provide that experience because it is characteristic of who we are. Portioning it out to just those who are adequately deserving suggests to me a fundamental lack of actual decency, altogether. Just saying.

I’m not pointing any fingers. Been there. I’ve been in that place where I was so angry (generally) and so wounded (emotionally), that behaving with any sort of decency seemed… unfair, or unreasonable, or… well… I wasn’t gonna do that. :-\ I did not understand at all that it was not about whether that person was “deserving” of decency – it was always about whether I was sufficiently developed as an adult human being to be capable of decency in those circumstances. It said more about me as a human being than anyone else. It’s very much the sort of puzzle that kept pulling my focus back onto me, when I started down this path – what I am capable of? What I can learn? What I can do to change myself? I have so little ability to change the world, or any one individual, and so much opportunity to become the woman, the person, the human being I most want to be. At this point, I could describe it as my life’s work. (I find it hard to accurately describe how far I have actually come as a person, and how far I recognize that I still have to go.)

My housekeeping? Not perfect. I’m prone to untidiness, but thrive within the context of a lifestyle that is very orderly, well-kept, and managed on a calendar. I have to work at order. I do. There are tons of verbs involved and my results vary.

My self-care? Hit or miss under stress, but generally pretty good these days, otherwise. I work at that, too. It’s a very human experience. More verbs. More practices. I begin again every single day.

My sanity? Mostly fairly well-managed these days. I do what it takes. I see my therapist when that is the needful thing. In years that I’ve been medicated, I’ve stayed the course on my medication(s) and taken prescriptions as directed as much as my memory (and coping skills) allow. I’ve made a point of getting off of medications that were doing me harm. I practice good practices, and I no longer punish myself for my very humanity. I’d say I’m generally sane, mostly fairly rational, and entirely willing recognize my mistakes, whenever that comes up (often). 🙂

My ability to be a basically decent human being? Pretty good, generally, with some misses here or there when I’m not entirely myself, or during some moment of severe stress, illness, or in the throes of misadventure. It’s a work in progress, frankly, I’d like to be more reliably wholly a basically decent human being, as a reliable default setting. I continue to work at that, because from my perspective on life, now, it seems the literal least I can do for the world… which make it sort of obligatory to at least give it a shot, and to really practice it until I am quite skilled. 🙂

My experience is my own. Same for yours. When we make wise choices that are appropriate to our circumstances, we tend to enjoy our experience a bit more. When we practice, and demonstrate, human decency, we are decent humans – something to aspire to, right there. The world would most definitely benefit from having a higher percentage of basically decent human beings. Life gives us opportunities to change, to grown, to learn, to practice – and we become what we practice.

Today is a good day to practice some “basic human decency” – certainly it is worth being good at that. It’s not about whether you deserve my basic human decency, though, is it? It’s about whether I do. (I definitely do.) 😉

My coffee is tasty. The house is comfortable in the pre-dawn chill of a summer morning. The air quality is still pretty poor as smoke collects in the air from distant fires. My mind is more or less… blank. I’m not quite awake yet, at all. I take another sip of my coffee and stare at the screen. It too remains “a blank page” for some minutes before I finally just drop that into the title field, and sit quietly, drinking coffee, aware.

This is not an unsatisfying moment. I am not feeling frustrated. (I chuckle as I write those words, immediately hearing my Traveling Partner’s voice replying in my head “Well, how are you feeling?”) I am feeling content. Just that. This moment does not seem to require more.

We create our experience with our choices, and our understanding of it is a carefully crafted narrative we make up ourselves, that may or may not accurately reflect the details of our experience (or any other – we’re seriously really good at making shit up and convincing ourselves it is real). This particular experience, here, now, is built on my choice to relax and accept that I may not have anything noteworthy to write about this morning, and to fall back gently on “just putting words on a page”, “thinking out loud”, in real-time, unedited and uncensored. I smirk at myself using the word “uncensored” in the context of this particular morning; there’s nothing about the morning thus far that would require, or benefit from, censorship anyway. 🙂

I’ve caused myself so much stress, anxiety, suffering, and heartache, just by insisting that I do more, faster, so often. The arbitrary performance standards we set for ourselves (and each other) often have no basis in what works, or what matters most. Sometimes they are just numbers pulled out of thin air. Why let life become stressful over made up shit? Seriously. Same with our internal narrative; we often make up a story about our experience that is based on untested assumptions, unvoiced expectations, and wholly unrealistic fantastical details that are in no way factual – then we let it stress us out. (Note: consider not doing that!)

This morning begins another work day. One more after that, and it’s the weekend again. 😀 I’m ready for it… but first, I have to live today, in this moment, present and engaged, and doing both things and stuff. lol Have to? Get to.

…It’s already time to begin, again. 😀

Wednesday. I’m already eager for the weekend ahead. I am thinking about the down and back drive to see my Traveling Partner this weekend. Different car. I try to remember why, exactly, I’m making the trip… and even though I do have a clear recollection that it is a purposeful journey, I don’t recall why I’m making it, beyond the pure joy of the drive, and a visit with this delightful human being I so adore. It is a source of mild amusement that I am eager to make the drive. I haven’t been, generally, aside from being eager to see my partner, always. It is in the context of the new car that I find my eagerness to make the drive, specifically… Which gets me thinking about context, generally.

I let my mind wander a bit, thinking over “context”. I don’t get anywhere particularly useful, today. I fall back on listening to the early morning commuter traffic begin to pick up, out there beyond my window. Yesterday’s commute, the first one in the new car, was… fine. It was just fine. It was fairly effortless, although still punctuated with occasional stupid bullshit (or at least decisions that appeared, from my vantage point, to be fairly stupid, probably bullshit, based on context), and I even found myself simply enjoying the drive. Does the car make that much difference on the quality of the journey? I guess it could – in a journey taken by car. lol

I sip my coffee and consider the day ahead. I do so a little reluctantly. I have some errands to take care of either during the day or after it ends, and somehow… I don’t feel like it. LOL I’d much rather laze about barefooted thinking about my “boyfriend” and enjoying summer. The work day ahead looms over my reluctant consciousness this morning. I am thinking about summer drives on country roads, and picnics, barbecues, and house parties. I am thinking about friends, and love, and joy. I am thinking about that feeling of liberation that I feel on a Friday evening, or a Saturday morning – no work, no school. If I could sort out the logistics, I would definitely take the rest of my adulthood off. LOL

The last swallow of coffee, another glance at the clock, in the context of an ordinary Wednesday morning. It’s time to begin again. I take a breath, which becomes a sigh. There will definitely be verbs involved – my results may vary. 😉

This morning I feel a bit as if I am wasting my time writing, at least a little bit. No sense of purpose, direction, or narrative, this morning. No hint of an idea. No phrase to build on. Just a woman and her morning coffee. 🙂 I suppose I am okay with that – and if I weren’t? My options are to choose change – and create it – or let go of my attachment to this moment being any different than it already is, right? 🙂

I sip my coffee and let minutes slip quietly by. I yawn, still sleepy, not yet fully awake, in spite of my morning yoga, and a pleasant shower. I pause to appreciate that I seem to be more or less over this head cold. There is a busy workday ahead of me, which seems less noteworthy than my eagerness to undertake the commute. The new car is an adventure of its own, and the fun of that far outweighs the irksomeness of the commute itself, for now. Perspective worth holding onto for another day, when I may need it more. 🙂

I ping my Traveling Partner, wondering if he is awake or asleep. The lack of more or less immediate reply, at this hour, suggests he is sleeping. I smile just at the thought of him, as my day begins. Love is a great beginning to a moment, or a day, or a journey. I take a moment to direct some of that warmth and affection toward the woman in the mirror, too; she’s worked her ass off getting me here, against some amazing odds.

I glance at the clock and finish my coffee. There’s still time to tidy up before I head to the office. I enjoy preparing for the end of the day and my return home in the evening, and doing so makes for a lovely welcome home. I’ve begun to get really caught up on all manner of things I’d let slip a bit (all that back and forth travel does consume quite a chunk of time), in spite of having been ill. I enjoy the momentary sense of accomplishment, before moving on to other things. I check my “to do list”, and begin with a verb. 🙂