Archives for posts with tag: Be Impeccable With Your Word

In the quiet minutes after tempers flare and the uneasy peace that follows, I take some notes. New or unremembered metaphors, insightful analogies, deep questions, and revealed underlying hurts of times long past… Notes for meditation, for self-reflection, for discussion with my therapist. Tripping hazards on life’s path.

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

It’s a very human experience, and a lot to think about. I will think about the path ahead, and also the path that has lead me to this point. I’ll consider my behavior, my choices, and my options. The menu of life’s Strange Diner is vast and the options are many – nearly always more than I can imagine, or accept.

I sigh to myself, and set my notes aside for tomorrow.

A new day, another sunrise, a chance to begin again.

I woke early this morning, from the sound sleep I had sunken into after the neighborhood fireworks finally stopped. I got up, surprised to find my Traveling Partner also already up. I started the watering and caught up on messages, then headed up the highway for my walk.

I walk along the marsh trail, more meadow than marsh this time of year. Swallows swoop and dive, chasing their breakfast. Meadow flowers bob gently in the soft breeze. The bold magenta sunrise begins to fade, first to pink, then to a softer pale salmon hue, before fading away to blue sky streaked with white clouds. I sigh and wonder what distant wildfire is responsible for that crazy magenta sunrise? It was beautiful.

A convenient place to stop and reflect.

I get to a spot that I’ll call “halfway” (it isn’t, but it is a convenient spot to stop and there is a fallen oak adjacent to the trail which makes a relatively comfortable seat). I stop with my thoughts, and my baggage, and sit with the moment for a little while.

… This is me, here, now…

I sit contemplating emotions and behavior, and what separates and defines them. Emotions tend to be what they are, and we don’t have much opportunity to manage or control our feelings, themselves. They are an internal, often immediate, experience. Behavior, on the other hand, we have clear opportunities to manage and control that (and often explicit societal expectations that we will do so effectively). That isn’t any sort of statement that it will be easy, at all, especially if we haven’t been in the practice of doing so regularly. It really does take practice. For some of us, it requires a lifetime of continued, focused, dedicated practice – and we’ll still lob some wildly inappropriate behavior into the world (or an important relationship), in spite of all that fucking practice, far more often than we expect. Humans being human. Some of this shit is a bit complicated, whether by brain damage, poor upbringing, ignorance, trauma, medication, or circumstances.

… Most of the time, most people are probably doing some version of their best in the moment, however thoroughly inadequate it may seem from our own perspective. We’re each having our own experience…

“Emotion and Reason” lit differently – how we view emotions, and how we use reason, make a difference.

I do my best to lead with kindness and empathy. I’m surprised how often and how easily I manage to fuck that up. Deep listening is a more challenging practice than it seems it would be. Practicing healthy boundaries is more difficult than I ever expect it to be, but frankly I’m a relative beginner on that topic, so perhaps that is easy to understand? I sigh and remind myself to also treat myself with kindness, compassion, and understanding. My beloved’s expressions of hurt, frustration, and disappointment in some moment may define the moment, but they don’t define me as a human being. Nor do his missteps or difficult moments define him.

I reflect on my mistakes in the context of my values. I give myself time to think about them as snags and potholes on a clear path. I visualize various moments differently than they occurred, incorporating the changes in my behavior that I’d ideally want to see. I compare and contrast with similar moments that went very differently. I let myself recognize the differences in a useful way, to build additional implicit understanding.  I remind myself to be patient and slow down, to take the time I need to do things right, and to avoid taking it personally if (when) the world doesn’t slow down with me.

… The journey is the destination. I walk the path I create with my choices. I have opportunities (so many) to change that path by changing my choices. It sounds easier as words than it is in practice – but “practice” is an ongoing thing. I’ll keep walking (and practicing).

… I keep my focus on my own behavior, because that is what is within my control, and it is what I am responsible for, myself…

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I don’t know what is around the next bend. I’m walking this path, enjoying the journey, and doing my best to be the person I most want to be. There’s work yet to be done. Where does this path lead? I guess I’ll find out when I get there. In the meantime, I guess I’ll begin again. Again.

I slept okay. I woke up okay. The morning seems a relatively ordinary one. The weekend was generally good, although I feel like I didn’t get much done due to swapping out a notable portion of the time I would have spent on housework for self-care, and I still somehow manage to feel uncomfortable with that.

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

I watched the moon setting as I watered the lawn.

It’s forecast to be hot today. I watered before I left for my walk. I ended up going back into the house for a warm cardigan. The forecast may say it’ll be a hot day, but it is quite chilly now. Funny how that sometimes happens.

It’s not important, just an observation on an ordinary Monday, for which I have no particular enthusiasm. That seems odd to me, but even that is pretty ordinary; people feeling some reluctance and lack of enthusiasm for the beginning of another work week is nothing new at all. We’ve probably all been there however much we may enjoy our work. I shrug to myself as I walk this familiar trail. There’s so much I’d rather be doing than working, but working is what pays the bills and unlocks the opportunities to do those other things, often. It’s unfortunate that we spend so much of our lives on this fucking hamster wheel.

Get off the hamster wheel now and then.

Yesterday’s hike was a lovely one. I enjoyed it enough to wonder if I could make it there and back on a workday… I’d be pushing my luck on the timing in a way likely to trigger my time hang-up, and cause me stress, undermining the value of the walk. Probably not a great idea. I’ll have to settle for weekends. This too, is ordinary. Most things are.

My allergies are vexing me, even this is nothing noteworthy. Human beings and spring allergies are a known thing. There’s an entire industry involved in dealing with allergies, and and whole field of medicine devoted to treating them. Mine are not bad relative to how bad they can be. I can enjoy flowers and walks among the trees, and petting cats… but there are a couple things that trigger my allergies, and they cluster in springtime. Tree pollen, mostly. Something about specific foods causes me to break out in sneezing and immediate sinus congestion and a runny nose. Wool against my bare skin can make me break out in hives. Bee stings are the most serious. Bee stings can cause anaphylaxis for me, and this time of year I carry a bee sting kit everywhere.

I’m grateful that I can enjoy the scents of flowers.

I sigh to myself at the halfway point on my rather ordinary walk on this ordinary Spring Monday. I’m not complaining. I’m grateful. Ordinary is okay, and for most values of ordinary, this is pretty good. My lack of enthusiasm isn’t nearly as important as this beautiful morning. I enjoy it for what it is. I enjoy it as I am. It’s enough.

Sunshine and oak trees, and a path; the way ahead is obvious, if not exciting.

I’m just saying, I suppose, that there’s no reason to expect that a healing journey or a journey to become the person you most want to be will lead to an exciting, eventful life of adventure and wild delight. Sometimes – mostly, perhaps – the big win is the relative lack of excitement, and the increase in ordinary pleasures.

Yesterday in the evening, things went sideways for a short time. My Traveling Partner and I stepped all over each other’s trauma and baggage. While that was thoroughly unpleasant, I’m impressed by our ability to recover from it, bounce back, and enjoy the remainder of the evening together. He impresses me. I’m grateful for the work he puts into a relationship. I smile and swing my feet from this bench, kind of wishing I’d worn the new sweater he gave me yesterday (an early birthday gift). I feel very loved. Not just because of the sweater.

What will you find if you slow down to see more?

I breathe, exhale, and relax. Sure, it’s an ordinary Monday, and I’d rather spend it with my beloved than spend the day working. That’s real, and it’s nothing special or extraordinary, just very human. I’m okay with it. I sigh and look at the time. I’ve a few more minutes before I have to begin again. I’ll make a point to enjoy them.

Yesterday’s anniversary celebration was delightful, really memorable and lovely. It was the kind of night out that lingers in memory, lasting beyond the moment. I’m glad to be traveling life’s path with my Traveling Partner.

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

A new day dawns. Where does this path lead?

I went to bed later than usual, well-fed and still a little tipsy. I woke early-ish, rather abruptly. My beloved was already up. I dressed and headed for a hike along the seasonal marsh trail, now open for the Spring and summer. Somewhere along the drive up the highway I began to wake up more completely. I stopped for coffee along the way. I definitely need a cup of coffee this morning. 😆

… What an experience last night was! Remarkable…

I walk alongside the marsh ponds still thinking about last night… the wines, each so beautifully paired with the course they arrived with… the shrimp toast!.. the rabbit… the salmon!.. desserts… that chocolate cake, wow. The evening, and the meal, made its way into my top three most memorable meals of a lifetime, before the check ever arrived. I walk thinking about food, love, and Springtime. It’s rare that we splurge on such an evening, and the rarety made it even more splendid. I savored every bite. I’m grateful to my Traveling Partner for setting it up. His company for the meal was the best part.

I get to my halfway point, and take a seat on this favorite fence rail. The sky looks stormy and I have lost my enthusiasm for driving a great distance to a preferred retailer for peppercorns (and nothing else!). I’m enjoying the morning, but like a walk down any trail, I’m alert for tripping hazards after stepping into a pothole I didn’t see ahead of me. It’s a metaphor. Life’s journey isn’t reliably “well paved”, and surely it can’t be expected to be on “easy mode” for the entire game, eh? I sigh and swing my feet. A small brown bird darts away to a more comfortable distance and looks me over.

… We’re each having our own experience…

I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s a beautiful Spring day full of promise. The path ahead no doubt still has potholes, and occasional obstacles to avoid. Detours. Bad weather. Wrong turns. The journey is the destination. I resolve (again) to enjoy all I can – and to learn from what I can’t enjoy. That’s enough.

I decide to sit a little while longer. I’ll enjoy taking the long loop back, around the meadow and down along the river. Good day for it. Good day to begin again.

Wow. Yesterday, though. It got off to a great early beginning, and crashed into chaos when the morning skittered sideways unexpectedly colliding with mental illness (mine) that is generally well-managed to the point of being mostly forgotten. With my Traveling Partner’s recovery making such good progress, I’ve been making adjustments to my HRT trying to find the sweet spot between effectiveness and timing/dosage. This went very wrong yesterday. I may as well have been an adolescent girl screaming at her mother with no justification, only hormones. Fucking hell.

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

I 100% lost my shit over nothing at all – a bit of very ordinary feedback and a request to check my breathing while I was on my device (curled over it uncomfortably and possibly holding my breath). On another day I’d have said thanks and corrected my posture. Instead I had a massive tantrum over it, which exploded into a PTSD meltdown and a complete loss of emotional control. It was ugly. My partner tried to deescalate the situation, but I had lost my fucking mind, like, for real.

Detail from “Emotion and Reason” 2012

We eventually got back on track, which was frankly mostly to do with him. I trudged through a miasma of fucked chemistry and feelings of shame for much of the rest of the day. (Being mentally ill can be seriously embarrassing.) In spite of eventually recognizing the role my hormones (both my own and the artificial kind) played in the mess I made, I struggled to regain my feeling of balance. It took most of an uncomfortable and frequently paused workday to get things right. Adulting is hard.

… Dwelling on regrets is neither healthy nor helpful…

This morning? It is an entirely new day with new challenges, and I begin again, feeling hopeful and pretty much okay. I send a note to my GP about changes I could potentially make to my HRT and seeking advice. I have an appointment with my therapist later today. I sigh to myself, and check those off my list. Too much chaos, and for some reason I am regretting ever giving up an analog to-do list on a legal pad written in ballpoint pen, illuminated in the margins with commentary and little doodles. Why now, I wonder? The idea is enticing, though, more visual, more tactile, and just maybe more effective (for me; your results may vary).

This morning begins with phone calls (business) that I never could have handled yesterday. I complete them, feeling a bit unsatisfied with the outcomes. It is a sunny morning, though, and a lovely day so far. I don’t rush through my morning walk, although I got a later start than usual. Yesterday really fatigued me, and I woke only 1 minute ahead of my alarm. I dressed and slipped away quietly, hoping not to wake my beloved. I sit at my halfway point at last and wonder if I should work from the library today, at least for the morning? Seems wise, and would avoid disturbing my Traveling Partner’s rest. After yesterday, I know he really needs it. I find it quite hard to do battle with my demons, myself, I can’t imagine how much harder it is for him.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I sit thinking about yesterday’s blog post, the re-reading of which in the afternoon was part of how I began to get my shit sorted out. I never imagined, when I wrote those positive encouraging words how much I would need them myself, nor how soon. Humans being human. Mental illness is a really hard challenge – and maybe at its most complex and vexing when we heal enough to feel well generally. It’s easy to forget – I know I want to forget it, and even more so when things are beautiful and healthy and fun. Especially then. This is a massive pitfall, and a set-up for failure.

I watch the glow of early morning sunshine light up the treetops. We each have to walk our own mile, eh? What we practice matters; we become what we practice. Choose wisely.

I sigh and glance at the clock. Already time to begin again.

I woke up early this morning in too much pain to go back to sleep, the recollection of a lustful dream still fresh in my memory. I got up, dressed, and headed for the trailhead. I beat the first signs of sunrise.

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

My allergies are pretty bad this morning, and before I put a boot on the trail I’ve used a half a pack of travel tissues. It’s annoying, and I’ve taken more allergy medication to deal with that mess. The sinus headache is doing its best to ruin my mood, but I successfully resist. I sigh to myself, resigned to a stuffy head today, and grateful to have allergy medicine at all. It could be worse, eh? Trees? Probably.

The weekend felt beautifully long, and a bit like a romantic weekend away from the world, although in most practical regards it was an ordinary enough weekend. Plenty got done, and more than that, the close connection between my Traveling Partner and I allowed us to share with a loving frankness and gentle words and be heard on some things we’d been cautious about sharing at all. It’s nice to have it like that, and it isn’t an accident of circumstance; we work at that amount of openness together. I smile as I walk, feeling warmed through by love.

I walk with my thoughts, wondering at how visceral and real dreams can feel, and how readily emotions surface, shifting with the context. I’m getting sufficiently deep sleep to dream vividly and with depth and detail, as if living another life. I easily slip into lucid dreaming (and I am grateful to have the ability to do so). I wasn’t having such rich and vivid dreams while the Anxious Adventurer lived here; a portion of my mind was generally wakeful and wary, vigilant even through sleep. I have missed my dreams. It was an annoyance, but knothing I could have asked of him would have changed that. It was a PTSD response to the presence of a stranger in my living space that only surfaced when I slept. My sleep is definitely healthier now.

I pause my writing to respond to my Traveling Partner’s morning greeting. We both seem pretty merry and upbeat, which is a lovely start to the day. I decide on working from my preferred co-working location instead of at home, at least for the morning, just to avoid being an uncomfortable nuisance distraction with my allergies while my beloved is working (or sipping coffee and enjoying a peaceful moment). I don’t really feel like dealing with him having to deal with my allergies. 😆 That’s love, too. We make it a practice to avoid vexing each other with bullshit when we can.

Daybreak comes and goes. I watch the sun rising from my halfway point as I write. There’s a mist clinging in low places and the morning is a chilly one, although I haven’t paid it any mind; I’m dressed appropriately for a warm afternoon, with a cardigan thrown on for warmth on a chilly Spring morning. Not my first early morning. 😆

My thoughts become a jumble of dream fragments, allergies, and musings about metaphors, inconsequential but perhaps useful as a means of processing shards and snippets of thoughts into something more useful for later? My dream still stands out in my thoughts, lingering the way very real-feeling dreams sometimes do. I sigh and get to my feet to finish my walk. It’s a chilly morning and I’m starting to feel it. It’s a good moment to begin again.