Connections & Recipes

November 29, 2024 //
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Thanksgiving dinner was delightful and delicious. Everything came to the table hot and I’m pleased and satisfied with the outcome, generally. Oh, sure, the stuffing was a little dry (I tried a better quality cubed bread, but didn’t correctly account for the additional liquid I’d need, and failed to crush some of it to crumbs), and I didn’t also make rolls or biscuits (are you fucking kidding me? I made the meal without help, and only have 1 oven and four burners! lol). Still, the “bitching” about those details wasn’t a big deal and overall the meal was well-received.

… The sous vide turkey was fucking amazing!…

By the end of the evening, we were all relaxing, food put away, dishes cleared, kitchen tidied up, and the first load of dishes in the dishwasher, watching old UFC fights and having a merry good time. My feet were hurting like crazy from being on them all day. I’m pretty sure everyone was in pain from their own limits being reached over the course of the day. I was tired, too. Up early, at it all day…no nap. lol Like a little kid, I was at risk of being moody and emotional. I went to bed abruptly when it was suddenly super clear that any little thing might set me off.

… Because little things had begun to set me off, not because I’m emotionally aware and wise from experience. Just human…

Oh damn, what a lovely Thanksgiving, though. Leftovers, too. Yummy. Today? Well, I’ll be safely at home not shopping, putting up the Giftmas tree and decorating the house with festive things. No way am I going out into the retail chaos today! There was already traffic at 05:00 a.m.! Fuck that.  I’ve got better things to do.

Long weekend. If I get the tree done today, I am hoping to paint tomorrow. My Traveling Partner has brought something to my creative experience that no previous partnership has; structure. He’s been actively encouraging me to make a point of painting on Saturday. I’m not entirely sure why, exactly, but having that bit of structure has been…nice. I paint more, and it’s becoming an actual practice, which feels good and definitely nurtures something within me. Easy enough to also do laundry, rotating the loads between paintings and folding things and putting it away after the painting is all done, or while taking a break to think about the next piece.

As things are these days, I quite literally do not have any “days off”, at all, unless I leave for the coast or to go camping. There’s just too much to do, and I’m also employed full-time. I’m not even bitching (well, maybe a little); there’s just too much non-negotiable workload between work, household upkeep, caregiving, and errands that need to be run. It can’t not get done, and at least for now it all falls to me day-to-day (although the Anxious Adventurer handles the majority of the heavy work to do with things in the shop, or big projects like assembling furniture or the hot tub maintenance). I’m damned lucky any day I can sit down for a few minutes. Even taking time to shower sometimes feels like a luxury. Having my partner’s encouragement to paint, in spite of all that… well, I feel very loved.

I manage to keep getting a walk each morning, and making time to write. Self-care matters, and these practices fit neatly into a time of day in which I wouldn’t be inclined to do noisier things around the house. It’s something. It’s a lot, really. I’m grateful for these quiet moments alone with myself. They’re as important to me as time spent at my easel.

A new day.

I stop at a convenient picnic table along the trail and write for a few minutes. Chilly morning. Gray daybreak becomes a gray dawn. Looks like a gray autumn day ahead. I listen to a flock of Canada geese pass overhead.

I’m grateful for this good life, and each new day. Yesterday I made time to renew connections with old friends, and distant family. Our relationships matter more than most other things about being human. I’ve got some good friends. I smile thinking about the various conversations about food and recipes. What a delightful thing to share. I feel fortunate. I sit awhile reflecting on life, recipes – and gratitude.

The day stretches ahead of me. It’s already time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, art and the artist, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, inspiration, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being

Thankful

November 28, 2024 //
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One thing I like about American culture is that we have an un-ironic holiday on the calendar for gratitude. We take a day to gather, feast, and share a moment of thanks. It’s an oddity among our holidays; it is far less commercialized than most of them. It’s mostly just a holiday feast. I enjoy the cooking and the meal. As a kid I enjoyed the various peculiar rituals, and the chance to see cousins from far away places as we all gathered at Grandfather’s house. I have amazing holiday memories of those childhood Thanksgivings.

I’ve never hosted large family gatherings for Thanksgiving, but I remember the fuss and chaos and celebration fondly (possibly because I didn’t have to coordinate the details or do much of the work!). I’m grateful to enjoy the holiday without the extra work involved in cooking, serving, and cleaning up after an elaborate meal for a large group. lol I’m content with a smaller celebration.

Thanksgiving morning before sunrise.

I woke to a cold properly autumnal morning and slipped away for my walk as quietly as I could. I slept well and deeply and I am grateful to start the day rested. There’s so much to do, later. I’m grateful for this quiet “now”, and sit for a moment after I put on my boots, just enjoying feeling the moment. It’s enough.

I’ve got a lot to be thankful for, and I begin the day here. Thankful for a good night’s sleep in a safe, comfortable home. Thankful for the warm base layers that keep me comfortable in the autumn cold. Thankful for my cane, which keeps me steady on my feet – and thankful to be walking. So thankful. I’m fortunate.

I’m thankful for this well maintained trail, and this quiet morning. I’m thankful for the partner who will welcome me home with love later this morning. I’m thankful for the coffee beans waiting in the grinder that will become my morning coffee, and the well stocked pantry that will provide ingredients for the evening meal. I’m thankful for hot and cold running water that is safe to drink. I’m thankful for my reliable vehicle and cozy house. I’m thankful for the books on my shelves, my eyesight, and the ability to read. I’m thankful for the Internet connectivity that keeps me in touch with friends and family. I’m thankful for the job that keeps the bills paid. I’m thankful for this comfortable good life.

I’m fortunate. I’m grateful. I’m merry.

Happy Thanksgiving.

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Categories autumn, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, Moments, Perspective, Relationships, The Art of Being

Consequences & Choices

November 27, 2024 //
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I woke up feeling cross and headache-y. I rolled up the road in the foggy darkness after making coffee for my beloved Traveling Partner and putting out a fresh glass of water and some morning snacks for him to wake up to. Hopefully his night was better than mine. I get awfully annoyed with him when he’s stupidly cross or frustrated with me, particularly when it is over something I don’t have a lot of control over, or something that isn’t about me at all in any reasonable way. He’s human too, and recovering from a serious injury is difficult and frustrating on its own. That’s not made easier by the medications he is taking to ease this or that symptom. I remind myself often that it isn’t personal, that he’s doing his best, and that he loves me. Doesn’t always make it any easier to endure.

Last night he was pretty crabby, in general, and I was “over it” almost immediately. I have needs of my own, and I definitely didn’t feel supported, cared for, or held in high regard. Didn’t help that I hadn’t slept well the night before, and knowing that was true for him, too, I suspect poor sleep was the biggest piece of our shared experience. I called it a night early and tried to get the rest I needed. That was a mixed success and my night was interrupted and not ideally restful. I’ll get over it.

I remind myself not to be a jerk to people; I can’t really know what they’re going through, and most people mean well, and generally try to do their best. Choosing to do anything else than my own best, to treat people well and kindly, with patience and understanding, comes with real predictable consequences. I know that’s true in work, family life, and love. People have a finite amount of nastiness or disrespect that they’ll endure before they lash out or just walk away. That’s reasonable, too. There’s no need to put up with someone’s bullshit rudeness, mistreatment, or drama, at all – there are other (better) options.

I think about my behavior, and I think about my beloved’s behavior, too. We’re walking this path together out of love, and I’m grateful for this deep and enduring love we share – but I’m no fool; we both have options. There’s no reason either of us should settle for each other’s worst behavior, ever. We have a mutual obligation to each other (and to the love we share) to do our best every day. Sure, sometimes our results may vary, and human is human. Still, it’s worth the effort, and certainly if we give up making the effort, love will bear the consequences. That’s just real.

I sit in the pre-dawn darkness out on the marsh. The fog is dense this morning. My head aches and my tinnitus is louder than the traffic on the nearby highway. I sigh quietly and see the steam of my breath become part of the fog. The VA says I need hearing aids now. I guess I’m not surprised. I haven’t really processed that yet. I don’t know how much it really matters. I hope they’re easy to wear and use and that they help. It’s been frustrating to have to be face-to-face with my beloved to be certain of hearing what he’s saying to me, and it’s clearly been frustrating for him, too. The doctor suggested, kindly, that there’s a chance the tinnitus will seem less loud when I’m hearing voice frequencies at a normal volume once again. That’d be a nice change. I’m grateful for the chance to have this technology available. Pretty amazing.

I sit with my thoughts awhile. It’s a chilly morning. Thanksgiving tomorrow, and I’ve much to be grateful for. I focus on the gratitude. It’s pretty hard to feel annoyed and grateful at the same time. lol Useful cognitive trick.

I get to my feet. It’s time to begin again. I’ll do my best.

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, health, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, The Art of Being, The Big 5

Strange Dreams & Love Songs

November 26, 2024 //
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I slept like crap last night. My sleep was restless and disturbed by strange unsettling dreams. Not exactly nightmares, I guess, but my dreams were peculiar and distressing enough to wake me. I woke a bit more than a half hour early for the day to begin, too, feeling restless and fussy. My Traveling Partner was already up, rather oddly, and as soon as I entered the living room he said “now I can go back to bed”, or something of the sort (I was still pretty groggy). It was weird.

Later, after I was long gone and out on this trail in the fog and darkness, he pinged me, awake again (still), and told me about his restless night. Rough. I send him my love and some affectionate stickers and emoji. Probably not very helpful, but hopefully he at least knows I care. Before I can share the love song that has been stuck in my head since I woke this morning, he’s headed back to bed. I hope he finally sleeps.

I pause on the trail in the cold to write a few words and gaze at the sliver of moon in the east through the fog, before I finish my walk and head to the office. Today feels “too busy” and I’m short on rest. I’ll do my best. What else is there to do?

It’s Thanksgiving week, of course it feels busy. I laugh to myself. Human challenges. Human limitations. I breathe exhale and relax. I meditate for a few moments, unconcerned with the cold. It’s not quite freezing. I’m glad I wore warm layers, and my scarf and gloves! I think about sitting by the fireplace, cozy and warm. Winter soon.

“Fireside” pastel 2024

I look at the time, in the pre-dawn gloom. Daydreaming can wait. It’s time to begin again. The day is waiting.

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Categories Allegories, Art, art and the artist, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, The Art of Being

Contentment and Sufficiency

November 25, 2024 //
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It’s a routine Monday morning, more or less. Small details deviating from the expected norms don’t change that. The weekend was strange and somewhat unfulfilling, and already feels like part of a distant past. I shrug off the bits that seem lacking and hold on to what worked.

“Stormy Sunset”  7″x 9.5″, 2024

I didn’t get as much painting done as I expected of myself. I found my heart elsewhere, over and over again, gazing out over the sea thinking of long gone friends and loved ones and letting unshed tears finally fall. It was a most peculiar and deeply emotional weekend, and although it was cut short, I was happy to see my Traveling Partner and to return safely home.

… Funny how reality can veer off our oh so carefully made plans…

I hear my partner’s voice in my memory, “I hope you got what you needed, at least…?” Did I? I don’t know – probably? I definitely needed something. To reconnect with myself more deeply, I think? I got that…or something very like it. Good enough. Sometimes it’s necessary to accept sufficiency and be content with it.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s a Monday. A work day. The ringing in my ears is fucking ridiculous. The pain I’m in from my arthritis is enormously distracting and I am uncomfortable. Still, in spite of all that, I feel okay. It’s funny how much it matters to me that my partner was so concerned to ensure I have room to paint at home. He missed me greatly and doesn’t want me to feel that I have to leave to paint. I feel loved and appreciated, which matters more than the pain I’m in.

I sit with my thoughts awhile longer, even though it’s already time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Art, art and the artist, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being
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