Archives for posts with tag: allergies

Breathe in the Moment

December 12, 2025 //
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I sip my morning pod coffee in this hotel room. It’s been a strange break from some things that have been vexing me and wearing me down. I say “strange” because it hasn’t been at all (physically) restful. Not in the slightest. The pace has been fast and could have felt stressful. It didn’t feel stressful because I got a real break from being worn down, exhausting my resilience, day after day. There’s something to learn there.

Still a luxury.

I reflect on that awhile, sipping my coffee. How do I more carefully protect my peace? Preserve my energy? Care for this fragile vessel? How do I more skillfully set boundaries without creating conflict? These are important questions worth answering with some measure of experience-informed wisdom… I hope I find some.

I haven’t taken many pictures. I haven’t done any sightseeing. I haven’t even taken any walks through beautiful places, although I’ve been on my feet and walking from here to there, often. I don’t feel any heartbreak over that. It’s just a detail. I’m grateful for the rest I’ve gotten, in spite of the pace. Here, in this “strange place”, I have slept well and deeply, and even slept in, once. I feel rested.

I’ve gotten to meet and get acquainted with some amazing people on this trip. It’s been worth it.

I’m eager to return home to my Traveling Partner. I check for messages after I turn my notifications on for the day. I am not so eager to return home to drama, emotional bullshit, or the interpersonal friction of cohabitation. Humans being human. It’s often (mostly) nothing to do with me. I sigh to myself and reflect. I have enjoyed the solitude. I’ll soon be home to love… and also laundry, housekeeping, cooking, running errands, helping with whatever, and trying my best to find any time for myself to enjoy some quiet time when I can sit with my own thoughts, or read, or paint. I miss my Traveling Partner so very much. I don’t miss caregiving or housekeeping, drama, or emotional labor.

I remind myself that having the Anxious Adventurer move in was always temporary, and as with all things temporary, it will end. We’ve all agreed that he’ll move after the holiday season, nearer to Spring, when the weather is predictably safe to drive through distant mountains and isolated highways, to wherever his chosen destination turns out to be. I’d love for him to be able to stay in the area, he seems to like it, and it’s clear my Traveling Partner enjoys having him nearby and seeing him often. The cohabitation doesn’t work comfortably. I don’t think I’m even surprised,  when I consider things more deeply. It hasn’t significantly improved over the 16 months he’s been here, even with coaching and encouragement (and sometimes raised voices and frustration). I sigh to myself. Communication can be difficult. Accommodating each other’s needs, limitations, and boundaries can be hard. I already know I don’t prefer cohabitation – it’s a lot of fucking work. I can’t force either man to change his approach to the other, to listen more deeply, to make changes in behavior, to be more considerate, kinder, quieter, or be anyone other than they are. (It’s not my place to do so; they’re both grown-ass men, who ideally already know who they are and where they need to improve themselves.) I can set boundaries, myself, and do my own best to be the woman I most want to be, and to be accountable for my decisions and my actions, that’s it. We’re each having our own experience. I’m not inclined to allow these father-son difficulties so far outside my own experience dominate my thoughts, time, or to-do list.

… I’m also not inclined to sit around seething over it, if I can simply stay out of the way and let them figure it out. That’s not always possible; sometimes I’m invited to help, or reframe or rephrase in some heated moment. I breathe, exhale, and relax. That time is not now. I’m alone in a quiet hotel room, and it’s almost breakfast time. I miss my beloved Traveling Partner – and I know what matters most (to me). So… I let it go, at least for now. I’ve got this moment here to live.

I look around the room… everything is packed. Breakfast next, then the office for a couple hours and a noontime departure to the airport. On the other end of hours of airports and flights, I’ve still got the drive home…more solitude. I’ll fill up on it while I can. Soon enough it’s back to the familiar routine, and time to begin again.

I settle into a comfortable position. I have time for meditation before breakfast…

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, autumn, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, The Art of Being, The Big 5, women, Words

Resilience and Preparedness

April 6, 2025 //
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I’m sitting at the halfway point on my walk around the marsh on a Spring morning, early. The air is deliciously fragrant with Spring flowers after a gentle rain during the wee hours. The trail is damp, but not muddy. The sky is gray, but there’s a hint of sunrise on the eastern horizon. There are geese overhead calling to each other as they fly by.

An early start on a new day.

I woke feeling rested and clear-headed this morning, if a bit earlier than planned. It doesn’t matter, really. It’s a lovely morning out on the marsh. Flowers blooming everywhere, trees and shrubs mostly, other flowers will bloom later.

I notice I’m suddenly feeling “froggy” and congested. My nose is simultaneously stuffed up and beginning to run like crazy. I scramble for the travel pack of tissues I had shoved into my pocket “just in case”. The sneezing hits me next. Damn it. An allergy attack? Probably. It’s Spring, and while I am quite fortunate that I don’t have the serious problem with allergies that my mother had, nor those of any of my partners, I do have one or two. Bee stings. Cotton wood trees. And whatever the fuck is blooming right now, apparently, that wasn’t blooming yesterday! I would laugh, but I’m pretty busy trying to breathe for several minutes while I blow my nose, clear my throat, and take a Benadryl. I remind myself to start taking Claritin each morning; it’s that time of year. I remind myself to begin making a point to keep my bee sting kit close by, always, too.

Being prepared matters quite a lot. My symptoms quickly ease, and I’m comfortably enjoying the morning again. Indications of Spring are all around. I especially enjoy the green haze creeping over every branch, as tender young leaves begin to unfold. It’s a beautiful time and it hints at renewal and new beginnings. For the moment I forget about pain (and allergies), and all the housekeeping stuff on my to do list, and instead I simply enjoy the moment, and the Spring. I think about my garden, and about maybe baking some cookies later. Simple pleasures. Nice morning for it.

I’m grateful that I began the day prepared. I’m grateful that I’ve become more skilled at self-care over time. I’m grateful for the awareness that brings Spring into focus, and that allows me to recognize needs that must be addressed promptly without panic. I’m grateful for this beautiful dawn, and this lovely moment, and this chance to begin again.

Even in springtime, the clock is ticking.

I get to my feet, and brush bits of leaves and moss from my jeans, before continuing down the trail. My journey is my destination, this morning, and it is enough.

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Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, joy, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Practices, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being

Canned Coffee

June 13, 2024 //
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Complicated morning. Some mornings are like that.

I woke too early, and faced with my Traveling Partner’s stress after a bad night, I quickly agreed to just go ahead and get dressed and go to work (at a cowork space) and got dressed and left. The cowork space available to me now doesn’t open until 07:00 a.m., and it was not yet 04:00 a.m., I figured I would just drive to the nearby nature park, and get a walk in as the sun rose. This works for me.

I made a stop at the 24-hour gas station, on my way by and bought a can of cold brew coffee. It was still so early, none of the coffee places were open yet, but I really wanted some coffee, and my headache was making that feel non-negotiable. So. Canned coffee it is.

…And also? Fuck pain…

I got to the nature park so early, it wasn’t open yet, either, and I had to wait for the gate to open at daybreak. Thats okay; I’m good at waiting. It’s just unusual to wait for the gate on a morning when the sun rises so early. lol

Yesterday, I spent my birthday with my Traveling Partner. We hung out watching videos most of the day. It was a simple day relaxing at home, complicated by my partner having had an allergic reaction to medication he’d been given. Seems like yesterday saw him over the worst of that. (Fucking hell, he’s been through so much this year. I wish I could do more to help.)

I’d have worked from home today to be around to provide support and care giving when needed, but my partner is likely to be incredibly irritable today as he finishes the process of coming off the medication that he reacted to… We both agreed, yesterday, it would probably be best if I wasn’t home for that if possible. (This morning’s early wake up call was a bit unexpected, but beyond that, the day seems pretty routine.)

…G’damn, canned coffee is honestly pretty fucking awful…

I had the trail to myself when my walk began, shortly after the gate opened, and after a brief text conversation with my Traveling Partner that tended to confirm his impression that he’d be so grumpy today that my best choice would be to be elsewhere. It stung a bit to have my loving-kindness thoroughly misunderstood, but I understand the shit he’s going through.  I let it go and got on with my walk. The trail became fairly crowded quite quickly for so early (and on a work day), but summer is nearly here, so perhaps I should not be surprised. Other than some silent greetings, a hand wave or a nod or smile in passing, there seemed a tacit agreement that it’s too early for speaking, and I continued my walk more or less alone with my thoughts.

…The sunrise was as close to being “boring” as a sunrise can be, with the dawn coming to clear skies, and nothing more exciting than a hint of yellow low on the horizon. I’m nonetheless supremely grateful for a new day and a chance to begin again. 61, eh? 😆 Feels just like 60…

Grateful for another sunrise.

I stop at my halfway point to sit, meditate, and write a few words. This bit of writing is a practice I find incredibly helpful for gaining perspective, and for practicing non-attachment and gratitude. It’s a bit like practicing self-reflection “out loud” to share my thoughts with you this way, though we may never meet, or discuss what I’ve shared. I often use the opportunity to reframe my bleaker or more difficult moments in a way that provides me greater depth of understanding, more insight (I hope), and positivity. I admit it; it takes some effort to be positive and practice gratitude, sometimes. I’ve definitely found it worthwhile as practices go. Cynicism, pessimism, and negativity never served me very well at all, and actually seriously limited my ability to grow, to heal, and to thrive. I’ve never regretted giving those up in favor of optimism, positivity, and a zest for living a life rich in joy and wonder. I can’t force anyone else to see things my way, or make this change in thinking. It’s enough to share that it has been meaningful and worthwhile for me personally to make this change. (It does take practice and my results do vary.)

…The sun climbs higher into the clear blue of the June sky, as I sit with my thoughts…

I hear voices approaching from around the bend in the trail and check the time. Looks like time to head back to the car and make the drive to the cowork office.

…It’s definitely time to begin again.

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

Small Details

July 29, 2020 //
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I’m sipping my coffee slowly. It’s still quite hot, and I’m not quite awake, yet. The alarm jerked me from a deep sleep with its incessant beeping, and I’m very groggy, and the tiniest bit annoyed. I definitely could have slept longer. My Traveling Partner is already awake, himself. I assume he is excited about the arrival of a package he’s been waiting on, but I didn’t actually ask. (Those first minutes, before either of us is fully awake, are generally a poor choice for conversation.) I make him coffee, and return to my studio. I catch myself smiling as I sit down to my desk. Love matters. 🙂

Yesterday was a pleasant productive work day that finished with a headache. Self-care really matters. I’d fallen short of how much water I needed to be drinking on a hot day, and I think I only had 1 cup of coffee, instead of my reliable 2 cups. That’d do it. Pollen count was also super high yesterday, and apparently “allergies” are a thing I may have, after all. lol “Get out of the city, they said…” 😉

Trees and sky… and pollen?

It’s definitely summer now, in this time of pandemic. People move around the community more. There are small very selective gatherings of people who feel safe with each other occurring here and there in the community, and in my neighborhood. Stores are open, but not crowded, and mask-wearing is not stigmatized (or avoided) in this community (which I appreciate). Small changes are evident everywhere – and not just the masks. The historic downtown area is closed to cars, to allow restaurants to extend their dining space onto the sidewalks and into the street. Social distancing. The entrance to many retailers has a prominent mask and hand sanitizer station (“If you forgot yours – take one of ours!”). Some businesses mark the floor with a “shopping flow” pattern and ask that customers follow that (Ikea-style) from entrance through check-out. Take-out, delivery, and curbside pick-up are super popular options these days. The way I plan errands has changed; I count on those curbside pick-up options, often, and that means planning the time those can take. We still avoid going out, generally. It’s too easy not to go out. Super easy to stay home. 🙂

Small details here at home change, too, as we move in, and get settled. It’s less a disruption than it is a refinement of lifestyle, over time. Yesterday, my Traveling Partner put a shade over the hot tub to keep me from getting sun burned. Small details. I was prepared to find myself much less resilient than I’ve been. It’s a pleasant observation to be able to make. Growth over time. We become what we practice. 🙂 I think about that for a few minutes, in the context of less-than-ideal practices (and characteristics), and sip my coffee while I reflect on becoming the woman I most want to be.

…I remember the new sprinkler my Traveling Partner got for me (I ran over the last one, quite by mistake, backing out of the garage), and I recall the day is expected to be quite hot. It seems a good time to water the lawn… and begin again. 🙂

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, Healthy Living, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Summer, The Art of Being