So Many Verbs

April 27, 2016 //
0

I’m sipping my coffee and staring at a blank page, waiting for my brain to kick in with actual thoughts. So far… nothing. It’s not a lack of thoughts lurking in the background waiting their turn to be given a moment, or a lack of living metaphors, or whimsy. There is surely no shortage of photographs of this and that, out and about, useful for illustrating some point…or just being a lovely image or image of a lovely moment. Quite the opposite; my head is full of things to do, thoughts, notions, observations, yearnings, fleeting illustrative imaginings, and some of the best poetry I’ve never written, too… It’s a noisy mess in here, and frankly some tidying up is in order!

I slept well last night and rested deeply. I even ‘slept in’ some, having not set the alarm and waking at the time my eyes were most inclined to open and face the day (still quite early in the morning, sun not yet up). But what is there to say about sleep, besides noting the obvious value in being well-rested? Certainly it is worth taking the time to go to bed early enough to get a needed night’s sleep; no late night programming is truly worth passing up sleep. I’ve already used more words than needed on the topic of sleeping. Waking well-rested is an excellent start to any day that may have verbs in it. 🙂

There’s the thing, right? There are so many verbs from which to choose! I could meditate – and tidy up the mess within. I could do some housekeeping and tidy up the mess that surrounds me (it is limited to my studio, and is both inconvenient, and an impediment to working creatively). I could finish getting moved in – which tends to have a tidying up effect both internally and externally (it’s just that sort of process). I could ‘mix it up’ and spend some measure of time on a variety of tasks, ‘getting ahead on things’ in a more generalized way. I could choose to do something less obviously useful, like going for a long hike, or having an at-home “spa day” and really taking care of me on a whole other level, or spending the day bird-watching from my patio, or catching up on my studies by reading (and finishing) one or two exceptional reading selections I’ve been finding highly useful and haven’t yet finished… The point I am making (for me as much as anyone else) is that there is a fairly large variety of verbs I can choose from – in most any moment, on nearly any day – and the day is only begun. I am unlikely to make ‘relaxing’ and ‘sipping coffee’ last for the whole of the day, and not only are there more hours ahead of me (as far as I know) there is ever so much more to be done…

It’s down to choices. Choices and verbs.

I sit awhile, sipping my coffee and looking at those words, “choices and verbs”, and giving myself time to consider my choices and the verbs required more fully. I open my “to do list” and my “list of things” (which is a willy-nilly ‘as it came to me’ unsorted vast sort of list of all the many things I might like to have or ‘need to get’ to improve my day-to-day quality of life, or to resolve some small household issue or another), and make an addition here or there. I continue to sip my coffee. I consolidate the two lists into one, for convenience. I continue to consider the options – and the opportunities. As I review the list, add to it, and remove items that have been completed, I find myself feeling more organized, more aware, and less at loose ends. I feel more purposeful, and more mindful of my long-term needs. I remove some things from the list that are no longer relevant; needs and plans change. Change is. This individual day facing me in this moment is mostly unaffected by the changes I make to my lists, but I feel more organized, more clear-headed, and more present in this moment, being less burdened by the lack of ‘sense of direction’ that had occurred as planning broke down in the face of change. Change is – that much is entirely unavoidable, and fighting it is an unworthy use of precious limited life force, particularly when harnessing the power of change can be such a powerful ally on a much longer journey.

It’s still about choices and verbs, and my coffee is down to one last, cold, sip. It is a rainy day beyond the window, and the sun is apparently giving all the light and warmth it can. The gray rainy day nudges me in the direction of indoor choices, limiting the list just a bit. It’s still plenty to choose from. I pause, and notice a serious omission from my list, and make a point to add it… “Enjoy the day and take care of me.” I smile. I’m eager to check that one off every day, and recognize the value in making it a priority, and taking the time to fulfill my obligations to myself.

...Making a list... checking it twice...

…Making a list… checking it twice…

Choices. Verbs. The day won’t wait for me to keep up… Today is a good day to embrace change, and to take care of me… I’ve got a list, and I know how to use it. 😉

 

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Mindfulness, Perspective, solo hiking, The Art of Being, Words

Strangely Difficult

April 26, 2016 //
0

This morning is a pleasant one, if a bit…odd. I woke at my usual weekday time, although had I chosen to or been so inclined sleeping in was totally an option. I dithered a bit over my morning ‘routine’ – nothing feels entirely routine right now. I am in the midst of change. I made my coffee, started the dishwasher, and sat down to write… an hour ago. Since then, I have been quietly sitting here sipping my coffee and not doing much of anything else. Just… sitting here contentedly sipping my coffee, and watching the dawn slowly develop on the other side of the window. No words.

I have an item or two on my list of things to do today. None of it seems discussion-worthy or out of the ordinary in any way.

My appointments yesterday were that combination of concerning and reassuring that doctor’s appointments so often are, and those too seem generally lacking in interest and not especially share-worthy.

On the horizon, a vast realm of choice, change, chance, and opportunity… and I’ve only begun to attempt to sort it all out. Discussion, at this point, would be a bit premature.

The first wild roses of the spring.

The first wild roses of the spring.

So. Here I am this morning. No words. (It took me a bit more than 200 of them to say so…) Today is a good day to be present for each moment, and to live them – before I discuss them. 🙂

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Mindfulness, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Spring, The Art of Being, Words

Onward…

April 25, 2016 //
0

I spent yesterday sick. I was mostly over the symptoms by early afternoon, but the fatigue of it wrecked me for the remainder of the day, and I took care of myself gently, ensuring I drank sufficient replacement fluids, and got plenty of rest. Getting things done was not on yesterday’s agenda.

I spent the day watching storms, cartoons, and birds.

I spent the day watching storms, cartoons, and birds.

This morning I woke to the alarm, feeling rested and over whatever I was so sick with yesterday. My coffee is tasty and goes down easily. My shower felt good. Today is fairly structured; I have doctor’s appointments at both ends of the day, and on opposite sides of town. No rush – and no worries, really. It’s a pleasant feeling, and I glide through the morning feeling aware, and competent. I can always tell when I’ve been under the weather; there are dishes in the sink. This morning I empty the dishwasher and reload it while I make my coffee and don’t miss a single detail.

Birds at the feeder

Birds at the feeder

I hear birdsong outside the window and think about how much entertainment I got yesterday from the birds that have found the feeders near my patio garden. The bold red-wing blackbirds quickly shared the information, and as the day went on, more and more of them began to show up, even two or three at a time and sometimes bickering over who gets what. I sat bundled up on the couch ostensibly watching cartoons, but more often with my monocular pointed toward the marsh, or the bird feeder. By the end of the day, I could get an occasional picture of a bird at the feeder without my motion, reaching for the camera, sending them flying away. 🙂 It’s already rather difficult to recall that I was sick yesterday; I recall the day as having been well-spent.

I find myself wondering if that is one secret to finding joy in life – simply focusing on the joy, the small pleasures, being awake, aware, and more invested in the pleasant bits than the unpleasant bits, with the result that the unpleasant bits slowly fade from memory…? Seems possible. Certainly, I do find more value in focusing on the pleasant bits, regardless. 🙂

I write a few more paragraphs, mundane details of this or that. I delete them when I realize they are not relevant to anything much – or even each other. I think for a moment about the skillful writing of two rather different (and very dear) friends, and feel very relieved that I do not compare my writing to theirs day-to-day; we are each such different writers, with such different voices, it would be beyond painful to hold myself to such a standard, and really – there’s no comparison, we each have such different things to say. Every voice in the symphony is utterly necessary for the music to be most beautiful and most complete.

Today is a good day to be uplifted by life, to see the sky, to feel the rain, to be mindful of my fellow travelers on this journey. Today is a good day to walk on. Today is a good day for being and becoming.

 

 

 

 

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Free Will, Healthy Living, Mindfulness, Perspective, The Art of Being

So Human

April 24, 2016 //
0

Fatigue overtook me rather early yesterday, and unexpectedly. I didn’t think anything of it, and enjoyed a relaxed evening, and an early night. I woke around 2 am, feeling stuffy and too hot, although the apartment was a comfortable temperature. I woke again around 3 am, and again at 4:30 am, 5:30 am, 6:15 am… so it went, until I more or less got up for the day, sort of, around 8 am. The very human experience of being ill with assorted symptoms of gastrointestinal distress finds me feeling weak, out of sorts, tired, and that peculiar combination of being simultaneously hungry and averse to eating anything that so often accompanies this sort of illness. Blech. Being sick sucks. It will also pass. (My wiring being what it is, I find some solace in the humorous play on words involved in this particular sickness passing…)

I am sipping on this excellent cup of coffee very much aware that my enjoyment may be quite temporary… I try not to dwell on it, hoping to find that I am able to keep it down, and maybe have some food at some later point. Coffee is not the ideal choice nutritionally, of course, but the headache later if I don’t have at least some coffee now is a complication I’d like to avoid if I can. (This too fragile vessel protests my choice in the only fashion it can… I return to my writing afterward.)

I had plans for today… brunch with my traveling partner… laundry… housekeeping… gardening… yoga… cooking up a batch of chili in the slow cooker… beginning to empty my storage unit (the new place has sufficient storage room that I no longer need it)… but instead, today will be spent taking care of me, and treating this fragile vessel with some tenderness. I am already feeling inclined to return to bed, although I’ve been up only long enough to attempt morning coffee (unsuccessfully) and write these few words. My routines and practices are destroyed temporarily by illness. How very human. I find myself feeling very appreciative that I am not sick very often these days, and further… I am grateful my traveling partner isn’t staying here full-time right now, and is not at risk of picking this up from me, so long as I make a point of keeping my distance until it passes. (I start giggling – the joke just isn’t getting old…and the timing… oh yeah… I break from writing briefly with some urgency seemingly caused by laughing, and return afterward, symptoms eased for the moment.)

Frequent visitors to the feeders, now.

Frequent visitors to the feeders, now.

Today it’s cartoons, taking it easy, and making a point to drink plenty of water. No point taking illness at all personally, or allowing frustration to overtake me; I’ll be over this soon enough to get on with life. In the meantime, the red wing blackbirds have discovered the feeder at the edge of the patio, and South Park never gets old [for me]. It’s a Sunday, and even laundry can wait if it must (I find it a poor practice to handle all my clothes, or dishes, or touch all the cooking surfaces when I am sick). Today is a good day to slow things down, and take care of me.

Tags , , ,
Categories health, Healthy Living, pain, Perspective, Sleepless Nights

Staring at the Menu

April 23, 2016 //
0

I woke in good spirits this morning, but also in more than the usual amount of pain. So far I’ve been mostly ignoring it with some measure of success. The mild deceptively stormy looking morning found me feeling a bit restless and at loose ends, unsure how to spend my time on what is a mostly fairly ordinary Saturday morning. I had considered a number of things I could do with the day, but didn’t make any firm plans in advance.

Sometimes the journey we plan isn't the journey we take at all.

Sometimes the journey we plan isn’t the journey we take at all.

Eventually, I went for a walk through the park…which became a walk to the farmers’ market some 2  miles away…which turned out to be nothing more or less than a 2-mile walk; the market is still on winter hours, and not open on this particular Saturday. I sat in the park there, where the market generally is, and rested my feet for a few minutes, listening to the breeze through the trees, and the sound of the fountain splashing. The walk home seemed longer than 2 miles, and I arrived at my door tired, still in pain, and feet aching… feeling peculiarly content. I awaken to a different understanding of my experience. I could have gone elsewhere, or done something more, but really it was an effort to make a choice to go/do in the first place; I only wanted to walk, and then to walk some more. Looking back on it, I wasn’t needing to get anywhere at the end of the journey – except home.

I pause for flowers along the way.

I pause for flowers along the way.

...Mostly yellow ones today.

…Mostly yellow ones today.

I feel a sense of ease and relief as I cross the threshold, and lock the door behind me. Home. As I relax into feeling welcome in this quiet safe space, I find myself comparing my pain and fatigue with the length of my ‘to do’ list and decide to do the housekeeping tomorrow, and rest and take care of myself today. Rushing through life robs me of the opportunity to savor it, and to linger over small pleasures.

Simple pleasures: birds at the feeder, a small container garden, a cloudy spring day.

Simple pleasures: birds at the feeder, a small container garden, a cloudy spring day, a good cup of coffee.

I sip my coffee thinking about how vast life’s choices and opportunities really are. What will I make of my life? What are my next steps? Where do I go from here? Who do I want most to be? What do I want to do when I grow up? I laugh, wondering at how much of life seems spent on that question…and why I ask it, even in humor… I mean… what’s with the ‘when‘? There is only… ‘now’.  A drenching steady rain begins to fall.

Today is a good day for small pleasures, and for enjoying moments of leisure. It needn’t be anything fancy, or exotic; taking the time to enjoy living life is enough.

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Free Will, Healthy Living, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, Words
« Older Entries
Newer Entries »