Archives for posts with tag: adaptability

Sometimes it’s necessary to do a “reset” and update some settings. I gaze into the little strip of trees along the creek bank. It’s hard not to notice the apartment buildings on the other side. I sigh to myself, frustrated by this feeling of my consciousness being encroached upon. There’s a certain lasting fatigue that seems to linger even after a good night’s rest. I fight it unsuccessfully with sleep, meditation, healthy breaks from work, half-assed attempts at boundary setting… I need to “reset my OS” (metaphorically speaking).

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

I’ve got a room booked on the coast for the weekend, and a couple of meetings I can’t dodge between now and hitting the highway heading for a sunset ocean view. My Traveling Partner is right; I need a break, and I also need to reset my understanding of what he’s capable of, now. I breathe, exhale, and relax. Nice morning for it. I haven’t even packed yet. I rarely do anything so spontaneous. I chuckle out loud to myself, and hearing the sound, I am struck by how much it resembles my Mother’s laugh, and my Granny’s. I smile. I’m okay with that.

I got home last night after some quick grocery shopping, to discover that my beloved had cleaned the house more or less top to bottom over the course of the day. He’s clearly less disabled than he has been. I’ve got to stop behaving as if he needs continuous assistance with everything. It’s not true, and I am myself made of mortal flesh. I’d do well to recalibrate and adapt to the new normal. As I think the thought a wave of relief washes over me. I’ve worked so hard to care for him, and endured much. I’m due a bit of a break and he’s surely due the opportunity to simply be, without my constant worried fussing.

“Baby Love” blooming by the front door.

A simple question remains; will the damned deer ever stop eating my fucking roses?! Oh. “No.” The answer is no. 😆 But that’s not the question. The actual question is; can I get myself to slow down and care for myself, for real? Buy a couple new bras that actually fit? Get my hair cut? Maybe sleep in? Spend a day painting without distractions? Shop without anyone else in mind? It’s not at all easy to give up all the caregiving habits that were so much a part of the last two years. It is now necessary to complete the process of shifting gears again, back from steadfast accommodating caregiver to partner, friend, and lover. I am relieved and grateful… And I need a break to care for myself and update my thinking.

“Rainbow Happy Trails” blooming, too.

… And the deer will go on eating my damned roses, because they are having their own experience and care nothing about the circumstances of my human life…

“Whimsy” finally blooms for the first time since I planted her.

For real though, I’m glad I got some pictures of the roses in bloom yesterday, because this morning the flowers are all gone. I sigh to myself. Life isn’t perfect; it’s a journey. The journey is the destination. (And deer eat roses.) I’m not even bitching (well, maybe a little),  by most definitions, things are okay. Hell, I’m making a little weekend getaway to the coast happen on very short notice. That feels good even if the price of gas is still eye poppingly expensive. $5.33?? Are you kidding me with this shit? Ffs, take his toys away and put that senile old clown on a fucking time out. 😆

The sun rises behind me. A low mist in the vineyard hints at a cooler morning. It may be chilly on the coast. I remind myself to pack a warm sweater and wear my fleece. I smile, feeling light. It’s time to begin again.

Yesterday went sideways fast, mostly a byproduct of pain (mine, and his), and associated emotional volatility. Mine. His. It sucked and generally speaking the entire day was pretty much wrecked by it. Oddly, from an outside perspective, apparently, the details of the day amounted to “a great day” characterized by numerous successes, but the emotional qualities of the experience were wildly out of touch with any of that. Being human is complicated sometimes.

As bad as the day seemed, generally, it began and ended well. Not my usual experience, and it seems (on reflection) somehow associated with the addition of the Anxious Adventurer to the household dynamic. Interesting. Looking back on the day it “doesn’t seem so bad”, but good grief I am glad it’s behind me and I am hoping for better today. I’m in less pain… A promising start.

Here comes another opportunity!

I hit the trail just at daybreak. The morning had a slight chill to it that felt refreshing. The sunrise began as a smudgy streak of a reddish hue, like a wound becoming infected. The air was still, and hazy in the distance. My tinnitus was far louder in my ears than the sound of distant traffic. I walked along, listening to my own steps, thinking my solitary thoughts.

…10 days until my coastal getaway…

The case I purchased to hold, protect, and transport my pastels arrived yesterday and I took a moment to put the delicate sticks of colorful pigments into their new home. No more small boxes – just one tidy case. I’m delighted with the result, and feel more prepared for my upcoming trip to the coast to paint. I sit at the halfway point of my walk, thinking about art, love, and inspiration, and watching the sun rise. The work day will begin soon enough, and I’ll turn my thoughts to work when it does. For now, my time is my own.

I’m looking forward to the weekend, though it seems likely to be quite a busy one. I’ve got a number of boxes set aside, filled with small objects and items quickly packed and moved out of the way to make room for the Anxious Adventurer. Now that things are settling down, it’s time to take a closer look, to dispose of what lacks value, to display noteworthy curiosities and decorative things, where space permits, and more carefully pack those things worth keeping but for which the time is not now. Then whatever boxes there are will go to storage for a while. It’s a process that can be a bit emotional, and although I am not dreading it, I’m also not looking forward to it.

I breathe exhale and relax. The sun is deep luminous orange as it rises above the horizon. I save my draft and turn back up the trail. The sunrise dazzles my eyes as I walk through the oaks.

Don’t stare into the sun!

The air is already warming up. I’m thinking about coffee and new beginnings, and change. I’m feeling pretty good this morning, aside from the headache that accompanies me most days.  Getting to the car, I sit on a nearby picnic table to finish my writing, change my boots for softer shoes, and sit for a moment, just being. I watch the sun through the trees and contemplate how I would compose the scene on paper and how that might work in pastel. Old thoughts, new medium.

…Fuck, my tinnitus is so loud. I make a point to listen to myself breathing, which helps “put the tinnitus in perspective” and anchor my awareness to externally audible sounds.

…My Traveling Partner pings me…

It’s hours later. My plans were upended pretty quickly. My morning walk had served to give my partner a bit more time to get the rest he needs, but the Anxious Adventurer has his own routine, and his own work hours, and his own plan, and my partner was awake earlier than he’d hoped, with no likelihood of getting more rest if I were to be working from home, as I’d intended. It was early enough in the morning to make a change, easily, with no particular stress and I offered to do so, and hastened home to grab my laptop and head to the office. It’s nice to have the option. My day ends up starting a bit later than I planned, which means it will end later than I’d like, but if my Traveling Partner gets the rest he needs, it’s a win for both of us.

…The necessity to begin again comes in a lot of forms. The willingness to make a change based on circumstances is a useful first step. Then, by beginning where I actually am, I can proceed to the next thing, the next need, the next plan… the next moment. So far, it’s still a lovely day – and all I had to do was begin again. 😀

I’m sipping my coffee wrapped in the warmth of my car, parked at my campsite. Cheating? Sure, if you think so. I consider it more… resourceful? A stopgap measure after a night of chilly rain.

I lost a warm layer to a midnight walk to the restroom during the rain; my heavy favorite baggy sweater got damp, and putting it back on before it dries would be foolish (and not at all helpful for being warm). That one less warm layer is the difference between being comfortable by the FireCan at 50°F (about 10° C, so only chilly not “cold”), and.. not being comfortable. lol

Coffee goes cold fast on a chilly morning outside.

…So, I got into the car, started it up, and now I’m drinking my coffee and warming up a bit. At least right now, everything is still quite soggy and chilly, after the night of rain, but I stayed dry in my tent (a waterproof tent really matters) and wisely put anything that needed to be kept dry into the car when it first began sprinkling. Smart. Well… maybe. I have help; my Traveling Partner has stayed in touch and reminded me that the solar panels are not waterproof, which put my attention generally on such things when the time came. lol Is that cheating? Nope. Resourceful. (imo)

…This is a damned good cup of coffee. I smile and think fondly of my Traveling Partner. He’s the one who nagged me to live better when I camp, and to cook real food, and brew freshly ground coffee. Without his influence, I’d be drinking instant coffee and eating hot meals out of a bag that moments before looked like kibble. lol He’s right, this is better, even when the “cooking” is a salad and a grilled cheese, or a hot dog cooked over a campfire.

A great many of life’s most worthy lessons come packaged in some hardship, big or small. Logistical resources and the help (or advice, or encouragement) of friends really matter – and really count among our assets in trying times. Don’t be too proud to “get in the car and warm up”, when the situation calls for it! Taking care of yourself is not a “cheat”. It’s self-care.

In the quiet of the car, my tinnitus seems really loud. Perspective. I look up at the cloudy sky through the sunroof of the car. I pause to appreciate that it isn’t raining. In this cool cloudy weather, my little camp likely won’t dry out without my help. I grin, feeling thankful for my Traveling Partner’s thoughtful gift; a towel (printed as the character Towelie). I laugh. Good advice, “don’t forget to bring a towel!”

…My sweater, spread out over the passenger side headrest while I warm up in the car, is almost dry. Smart use of resources. I’m glad I had a way to dry it quickly.  😀

…After I finish my coffee, I’ll dry things off in my camp, too, and begin again…

Spring flowers weighed down by the rain during the night.

Life still happens without much regard to the planning of human beings living their limited mortal lifetimes. Like it or don’t. Plan or don’t. Circumstances will be what they are, independent of our attempts to corral them within the confines of a good plan. I say this as a woman who definitely appreciates a plan.

Before dawn at the start of a planned walk. It’s raining.

I woke early with a plan: get a walk in while my Traveling Partner sleeps, return home and complete a productive work day, hit the road headed for a couple days solo on the coast in the afternoon. Good plan and I woke excited about the day(s) ahead.

… It’s still too dark to start my walk, but it’s pretty clear that I’m likely to be still waiting for a break in the rain (and not going to get one) when daybreak comes. The rain falls steadily.

I check road conditions between here and my planned coastal destination… there is more rain and possible flooding in the forecast. For now, conditions are “fine”, although rainy, between here and there. Flooding is reported, but much further north and much further south. At least, from this early morning vantage point, I’m still on track to head to the coast to get some storm watching in, and maybe a walk on the beach…? Maybe. I intend to bring work with me, too. This is not a vacation so much as a few days of pleasant solo time while my partner works on complicated projects that benefit from focused time uninterrupted by my constant chatter, and without anyone’s feelings being hurt by lack of attention. Still, the whole thing now hinges on the weather; I can hardly drive to the coast if the roads are flooded. So, I keep an eye on the weather and the traffic cams along the route. Waiting. Wondering. Trying not to cling too tightly to my plan. Letting go of assumptions and expectations.

I sigh softly and listen to the rain fall. The sky slowly begins to lighten.

I’m already packed for my wee getaway. I contemplate other potential destinations that might meet the need in a similarly pleasant way. It’s “off season” most places in this area, but I’d be looking for quiet, which shortens the list quite quickly. The last minute planning and execution also shortens the list; it may not be the peak season for travelers and tourists, but a lot of places are full nonetheless.

The rain continues to fall, tapping on the car as if to say “excuse me, you do realize it’s raining?”. lol Yes, yes I do. Rain or no rain, plan or no plan, the day will be what it is. Soon it will be time to begin again.