I woke up feeling restless and strange. Nothing specifically “wrong”, just feeling vaguely troubled by dreams already disappearing from my recollection, and starting the day in more pain than usual.
I dressed and slipped away into the darkness as quietly as I could, which wasn’t very quiet this morning. I dropped my phone, my key fob, snagged my handbag on a door knob causing my keys to jingle… It’s been that kind of morning; intention and effort rewarded by clatter and chaos.
I considered taking a seat at the local Big Coffee Chain cafe, but I seriously just don’t want to deal with people, at all. It’s pretty cold for walking (37F/2.8C). I vascillate as I drive… coffee? Walk? Back and forth, even as I pull through the drive thru and get coffee, before heading to the trailhead. I still haven’t started drinking it. I get to the trailhead before daybreak and reflect on how much I have appreciated recent later start times to my days, wondering again what woke me this morning? I sigh to myself, and prepare to start down the trail…
…It begins to rain. Steadily, and hard enough to chill me to the bone quite quickly, I rethink walking. Having lost interest in a cold rainy walk in the predawn darkness, I sit in the warmth of my Traveling Partner’s pickup, feeling loved. I’m grateful to have the use of it while my car is still at the body shop. The comfort and features have even changed my thinking about what vehicle will replace my car when it has reached the end of its serviceable lifespan. I’m not a huge fan of brand loyalty generally, any more than I think mindless partisan voting is a smart strategy. Smart for whom? Only for the brand or party, not for the voter or consumer. I shrug and let it go; it’ll be awhile before I buy a new car. Now is not that time.
The city beyond the horizon illuminates the cloudy sky above.
I breathe, exhale, and relax. The morning quiet here is well-suited to meditation. I feel calm and centered, ready for a new day. It looks likely to be an ordinary work day. My Traveling Partner invited me to work from home today, and his welcoming encouragement had me seriously considering it when I went to bed last night, but here in the darkness with my pain and somewhat antisocial feelings, I’m inclined to head to the university library once it opens and take a seat in one of the quiet study cubicles in the back. I’ll be close to home if anything urgent arises, and my beloved will be unbothered by my bullshit. Lest it seem I’m being overly considerate, this is quite a self-serving decision; I will be more easily able to focus on work without having to juggle consideration of my partner’s needs, too. Generally easier on both of us.
I sit with my thoughts, avoiding the news. The rain continues to fall. I don’t need to scroll through the news feed to know the world is a messy terrifying place right now. Genocide and violence are ongoing. American democracy is at risk, with key positions in government filled by grifters, and wholly unqualified unethical assclowns. Big tech companies are continuing to go about the business of making shareholders and CEOs rich at the expense of the sanity, health, and resources of everyone else. Human primates continue to be vicious, petty, greedy, and unkind to one another. It can be a pretty awful place, this peculiar mudball hurtling through space.
…but…
There is beauty here, too, in every sunrise and sunset, and every smile. I focus on that, this morning, as much as I can. I owe this to myself! The choice where to put my attention is my own. Drowning my consciousness in global misery does not make me more effective at making useful changes, or speaking my mind with clarity. We all need a break now and then, a chance at rest and opportunities for joy. I breathe in, filling my lungs with rain-fresh winter air. I exhale slowly, thoroughly, letting go of anxiety and concern and worry over things I can’t control here, now.
Daybreak comes. The rain slows to a dense drizzle. I still don’t feel like walking, this morning, too much pain for walking in the rain. I sigh contentedly; the solitude is enough. A few more minutes, and then I’ll begin again.
I woke rather oddly thinking I was already awake, and uncertain how I “suddenly ended up” horizontal, wrapped in a comforter, on a soft surface, when I’d been contentedly seated at my desk, drinking coffee and writing – “finishing my book” – happy to be done with it. It was an odd sensation. For some minutes, the phrases I’d been typing (in my dream) were still lingering in my thoughts, becoming a sense that it would be a good topic to write about, and slowly dissipating from my recollection as dreams generally do.
Now, I’m up, out of the house, sitting with a cup of coffee and my thoughts, on a chilly Thursday. It’s not cold. 40F (4.4C) – so relatively mild for February. The whole season has been “relatively mild” in this location, although elsewhere, in many places, blizzards rage and snow piles up. I hope you are safe and warm, wherever you may be. I sip my coffee wondering how bad the fire season will be this year, having so little rain over the autumn and winter months, and so little snow in the higher elevations. Today’s forecast was precise as to temperature and quite accurate, but the car was frosted over in spite of the mild temperature. The morning manages to feel like it’s almost winter. Early Spring? Late autumn? The seasons “don’t feel quite right” anymore. I fear we’ve broken our planet beyond repair. This does not bode well for humanity, nor for many other creatures whose lives depend on climate. Scary. I’m no expert, and I’m not interested in succumbing to this or that whispered conspiracy, I just see what I see, and live my experience; this very mild winter can be expected to be followed by a difficult summer of wildfires dotted around the state. I’ll have to be very careful when and where I camp this summer, and plan on closely monitored very contained cooking fires (I like my Jetboil best).
I remind myself not to forget coffee!
I sigh to myself. I miss being out in the trees, listening to birds and chipmunks and forest breezes, and watching the sun rise and set filtered through trees that have seen more years than I have myself. I don’t have to wait on camping… I could drive out into one of several large wilderness areas and be among those trees in less than an hour, being fortunate to live approximately midway between the coast and Mt Hood National Forest. The thought jolts me back to this moment; today I have to take my car to the body shop to have the damage done on New Year’s Eve (day) repaired. I won’t have my Mazda for some little while. Weeks maybe? Days definitely. My Traveling Partner graciously offers me the use of his truck in the meantime, and it’s a dream to drive (so much so that I’m planning to buy that make of SUV to replace my Mazda when the time comes). So, today I’ll drop off the car, and he’ll pick me up in the truck. The work day will bookend that errand, and for the most part life will be remarkably unchanged – except tomorrow morning when I step out of the house and am reminded that my car is gone. I’m sure I’ll forget, until I see it missing. lol Very human.
Life is filled with adventure – and misadventure. Choices. Opportunities. Change. Getting hung up on some particular detail is often a poor choice. Mostly the details don’t matter to anyone else; they are having their own experience. We’re all in this together, in a grander sense, though we regularly forget that and start giving people on hard times side-eye, like we have never struggled, or fallen on hard times, or failed to choose wisely. Human beings can be jerks. We like to talk about “pulling ourselves up by our bootstraps” in spite of the practical matter that every one of us relies upon others, depends on others, and probably wouldn’t survive long isolated and utterly alone (think “no internet”, “no credit cards or banking system”, “no infrastructure”…). If you’re feeling quite smugly independent about your individual success, I’d like to point out that the infrastructure, delivery systems, and basic building blocks of your experience are not things you did “all by yourself”. lol
I sip my coffee and smile to myself. The morning feels relaxed and peaceful, and I realize one reason why that is; there is no background music playing this morning in this chain coffee shop. One less bit of noise to filter out as I sip coffee and consider life, this moment, and this woman that I most want to be. Nice morning for it. Chilly, though. I’m grateful for this hot coffee. I’m not too proud to drink branded industrial chain coffee from a Big Coffee Chain Cafe in my neighborhood. lol I don’t necessarily prefer it. I’m that coffee drinker who prefers carefully brewed freshly ground coffee from estate-grown varietal beans imported from the cradle of civilization…but will most definitely lick the bitter dregs out of a packet of instant coffee moistened with a tablespoon of tepid water rather than go without. LOL I have abruptly returned home from a camping trip I was excited about – broke camp and returned home less than 24 hours into it, after driving hours – over forgetting to bring coffee!
…Would I survive without coffee? Sure. Getting past the first few deeply irritating days without would be annoying, but I’d survive – I just don’t want to. I recognize that this is characteristic of addiction. I’m grateful it’s just coffee.
I breathe, exhale, and relax. I consider logging into work tools and beginning that part of my day a little early, but I don’t have to; this moment is mine. I smile to myself happily. Nice moment, this. I sip my coffee and enjoy that feeling. So much less anxiety this morning. Like… none. I slow down and appreciate that, for what it is. I’m grateful. I’ve endured much over the past two years, and it’s been harder than I imagined it could be, and I’ve done more/better with most of it than I would have expected myself to be up for. Things are turning a corner. Change is. Hard times come and go. This too will pass. Impermanence is a characteristic of life – even our human lives, however much control we seek to exert over events. I don’t necessarily like that – I’m a big fan of stability and comfort and ease – but reality does not care about my preferences, and having an easy life was unlikely to turn up in the hand I was dealt; the odds were poor (still are for me, and for most human beings). I’m okay with “okay”. I’m grateful for my good fortune in life, wherever it finds me. Enough really is enough, although I sometimes have to pause and consider my blessings, and take a moment to be aware (again) of how fortunate I truly am. (Like anyone, I find a stupid about of bullshit to bitch about rather pointlessly some days.)
Walking my own path, one step at a time.
Crazy world we are living in right now, eh? There’s a lot of terrible stuff going on here in the US and in the world. What we say about it matters. What we do about it matters more, if we can be moved to action. Heroes will rise. Villains will fall. I feel hopeful this morning (probably because I am not looking at the news). I breathe, exhale, and relax, and prepare to begin again.
It’s easy to focus on the negative, isn’t it? Whatever is amiss right now, whether here or far away, is often so compelling we dive headlong into that mess, and give up on all the good things going on, too. We get mired in some bit of unpleasantness, large or small, or let conflict live in our heads, and forget to live our lives through any other lens. Yesterday was hard. I had a nasty headache that persisted through the day, I was cross from the moment I woke until I finally called it a night. It’s rare for me to be stuck in a bad mood for so long. I’m glad I woke without it.
Look, I’m not saying don’t protest injustice (please be safe, and please protest peacefully), nor am I discouraging you from speaking up about how you feel or what you are going through. (Use your words! Speak truth to power.) I am pointing out that the picture is nearly always bigger than the moment any one of us is in right now, and there are opportunities to get to a more positive outlook, and a better state of being. In some cases, it may take a night of good sleep, in others maybe a moment of perspective is all that is needed? You results may vary – I know mine do. lol Adulting is hard sometimes. I’m grateful that with expectation setting and taking care with my words throughout the day, the consequences of yesterday’s crappy headspace ended up being generally good; a deeper connection with my Traveling Partner, and no one having to go to bed mad or with hurt feelings (as far as I could tell). Win. Small wins matter; sometimes small wins are all you get.
Sometimes it’s a good idea to take a minute, and sort things out.
This morning, I’m thinking about “what’s good?” – because I spent too much time yesterday focused on the things that were off, or going wrong, or just seem crappy and unfair. My Traveling Partner was correct all those years ago, when he pointed out to me that my negativity was doing me real harm (in addition to being unpleasant to be around, generally). “Toxic positivity” is not the solution; this is not “fake it until you make it” territory, though speaking in terms of practices may suggest that it somehow is. It is more to do with perspective, and balance, and self-awareness, and consideration, and compassion – and the very real likelihood that most of the time, in most circumstances, things are not as bad as they may seem in the moment. Emotions like sorrow and anger and frustration are still valid useful emotions that tell us something about our experience. The way out is through – squashing our emotions does not resolve them. Forbidding ourselves to experience our feelings in order to more carefully craft a feigned pleasant exterior and a smile suited only to commercial purposes is not emotionally healthy. There is another path. Savor the small pleasures and simple joys. Enjoy each fleeting moment of delight unreservedly. Share kindness. Assume positive intent. Don’t take things personally. When hard times hit, the resilience you’ve built over time will sustain you. We become what we practice. (Practice calm, we become calmer over time. Practice freaking out over small things or losing your temper over small mishaps, we become less able to manage our emotions in a healthy way, and unable to maintain our perspective on events. Seems like we’ve got some choices.) I sip my coffee and think about it awhile longer. Am I satisfied with how I handled my crappy day yesterday? Mostly. Could I have done better? Probably. I have today ahead of me to do that; it’s a whole new experience, filled with new moments.
It is an ordinary enough Tuesday. I may even work from home. My Traveling Partner suggested it. I woke way too early for that, though, and I did not want my wakefulness to wake everyone else. I dressed and slipped away into the darkness – hopefully without waking everyone.
What’s good? This cup of coffee, actually. It’s pleasant, mellow, and no bitterness detected – characteristics I’d like very much to develop and deepen, as a person. I think most days I get pretty close. Progress. I think about the work on-site annual strategy meeting that I am not attending in person this week, afterall. Sure, I could get all wound up in whether not being there in person may “hold me back” professionally… or… I could focus on what’s good; I’m home, available to care for my Traveling Partner when he needs me, and not faced with the inconvenience, cost, fatigue, or risk of illness that inevitably comes with professional travel. What I choose to focus on may set the tone for many moments ahead of me. It’s not a new lesson for me – I knew it yesterday when I was mired in my bleak mood. I struggled to make an effective change, not because I did not know I could choose otherwise, but because making that choice in the first place was so fucking difficult in that moment. (Moments pass.) I’m not inclined to understate how difficult it can be to choose change, to go another direction, or to soothe an angry heart. Sometimes it is hard, and my results vary. I keep practicing because I keep improving through practice. It gets better. It gets easier. It gets more reliable – until at some point, on some detail of behavior, thinking, or character, I will find that I have changed.
Walking my own path, one step at a time.
What’s good? Right now the warmth and cameraderie of this chain cafe! It’s a silly thing, but heart-warming; the baristas here have gotten to know me by name, and are familiar with my early morning coming and going on these work days. I write quietly in the corner, people-watching a bit now and then, sipping coffee and reflecting on life. If I don’t come by, they notice. If I am wearing a frown for no obvious reason, they ask if I’m okay. It’s a very human experience of community. It’s good. I enjoy it, even when I’m headache-y and cross. Yesterday it was one of the highpoints of my morning – just that moment of recognition that I was not at my best and clearly having a difficult morning. “How’s the morning?” backed up with a concerned look, and authentic interest in the answer hits differently. I reflect on authenticity and sincerity. A much younger me might have sneered dismissively at the suggestion that these are character qualities with real value. That younger me was wrong about a lot of other shit, too. I chuckle with fond affection and a smile with a little sorrow at the corners; we don’t know what we don’t know, and we think we know a lot more than we actually ever could.
What’s good? Simple pleasures, like a hot shower, or a good cup of coffee. Unexpected delights, like a gift on a non-birthday, or a letter (or email) from a faraway friend. A pleasant moment over a cup of tea at the edge of my garden in Spring? Definitely good. An unexpected compliment is also good. I sip my coffee and think of as many little things that feel good to me as I can, and I turn those around “in the other direction” – so many are things I can easily do and deliver that moment of joy and delight to someone else. I smile thinking about it. Maybe this evening is a good one to write letters (or emails) to far away friends? Perhaps it is a good one to enjoy a shower with my Traveling Partner – or share a good cup of coffee together in the evening (I could pick up some decaf for me)? Is there some little thing I could give to a friend to demonstrate my affection? Perhaps I could invite my pleasant neighbor over for a cup of tea? The joy we give others is returned to us multiplied. There are verbs involved. Choices to make. Actions to follow-through on. Living life is not a passive process.
Seems to be very effective so far… probably doesn’t hurt that the path is mine, and that I choose it myself.
I sip my coffee. I think to message my Traveling Partner to let him know I will return home later, after he wakes, to work from home. Useful expectation-setting that I don’t expect him to see until he wakes later. Minutes later, he replies; he hasn’t slept as well as I had hoped, apparently, but lets me know he’s going back to sleep. I hope he does and that his rest is deep and satisfying. I know how rare that it is, and how much he needs it.
My coffee has begun to cool. There is a bossa nova playing in the background, reminding me of my grandparents and summers at their house; the favored radio station playing there was some sort of smooth jazz, and often featured samba and bossa nova music. It’s not music that I greatly enjoy, neither do I dislike it – it definitely fills me with nostalgia, and memories of a different time and place.
Meditation over coffee… like a sunrise in my thoughts.
What’s good with you? Take a moment to think it over (no need to get back to me, though I’d certainly make time to enjoy your comment and to reply, it’s really for you more than for me), especially if the here and now of your experience is difficult. Give yourself a moment to appreciate the things that are good. Let it lift you up and color your perspective. Go ahead and begin again. 😀
I was surprised to see a a shooting star streak across the sky, from behind me as I drove up the highway towards the trail I would be walking. It wasn’t yet daylight, still early, quite dark, and there it was, as if leading me onward. I always wish on a shooting star. My wishes silently tumbled into one another, as I listed them in my head hurriedly, hoping to finish before the star had fallen and faded away…
…I wish I had more wisdom that I seem to, and better judgement…
…I wish people would be kinder to each other, more open to each other’s differences, more compassionate…
…I wish there were no yelling, no raised voices, no gunfire, no killings, no violence…
…I wish I’d do a better job at hurrying up and becoming the woman I most want to be – that I know I can be (with practice)…
…I wish I would listen more deeply, with greater patience, and more resilience in the face of strong emotion…
…I wish life felt simple and easy more of the time…
…I wish there more time…
…In the instant between when I spotted a shooting star passing overhead as I drove up the highway and finishing a hurried list of wishes, the star streaked forward, and began to fall, before it sort of seemed to burst like fireworks ever so briefly, like a punctuation mark at the end of a sentence, and it was gone. A fleeting moment of hope, and a wish (or two) for more, or better, or… other than what is. A futile child’s game, I know. Wishing doesn’t change reality at all. It takes much more work than that.
My walk was lovely. Nice morning for it, although it was quite cold. It’s later now. Eventually my arthritis pain caught up with my headache. Strange day. It began well. I felt quite loved, cherished, and appreciated…until suddenly I didn’t. Humans being human. It’s hard sometimes. People say unkind things they don’t mean to people very dear to them, or deliver very ordinary things in terribly unpleasant tones of voice, and all the love in the world doesn’t change that. Hurt feelings… hurt. I remind myself to “let small shit stay small” and not to take things personally. It still stings when someone dear says something hurtful. Resilience is helpful, sure, but g’damn I’d really like it to matter less. I’d like to hear the words, reflect on the message, and not have it fired at me as an emotional weapon. Or… I’d like not to feel it in that way. That’s the not taking it personally piece, and it’s a difficult practice. Human primates take so much shit so very personally.
“Emotion and Reason” 18″ x 24″ acrylic w/ceramic and glow details, 2012
Human primates are emotional creatures. We feel. Our feelings matter. The complicated bit, for me, is often simply to avoid fusing with the emotional experience of my dear one (whoever that may be in the moment) – to maintain my separate self, my own perspective, my own values and awareness and agency. Getting it right means being fully accountable for my words and my actions – if I’ve royally fucked up (or if I haven’t), and even if the person I’m talking to just doesn’t see it from the same perspective at all. How does that work? I definitely need more practice.
I could bitch more. I could go on and on about it awhile. I could remain stuck here, angry, frustrated, vexed, hurt, wishing for more or different, or for someone to fix something. That’s not how change actually works. Just sitting around wishing doesn’t change anything at all. There are verbs involved. Boundaries to be set. Limitations to be expressed. Hurt feelings to be soothed. Amends to be made. Reality gets real, sometimes, and crying about it isn’t supremely helpful (it’s just a bit of stress relief). It’s important to use my words, to speak gently, to listen deeply… sooo many verbs. Choices. Actions. I need more practice.
I’m tired and my head hurts. I remind myself this is one moment of many, and that it has been a lovely day but for one moment. I breathe, exhale, and relax, and try to keep things in perspective. The way out is through. The lessons aren’t “easy” – or there’d be nothing to learn. I give myself a moment, and then I begin again.
I slept in. I reached the trailhead as the sun cleared the horizon, and after enjoying some lovely views of Mt Hood at sunrise on my way up the highway. It is a clear cold morning, frosty and breezy.
Dawn, and the mountain in the distance.
I thought to make my way around the nature park from the less frequented trailhead tucked out of the way along the west side of the park, nearer to the river. I’d forgotten that the trail on that side is part of the seasonal route; closed until Spring. I grab a shot of the sunrise and head to the main trailhead. As late as it is, this morning, there are only a couple cars in the parking lot. It’s too cold for most walkers, though it is now a few degrees above freezing. Photographers and dedicated bird watchers still show up – and me.
I reach my halfway point, grateful for the added warmth of my gloves, scarf, and hat. I sit awhile, watching small birds hopping among the bare branches of nearby oaks. Busy morning for small birds, apparently.
Which is the distraction, the many small birds, or the tangle of branches against the blue sky?
I sit with my thoughts awhile. “Other people’s drama”, mostly, pulling my focus from what I need for and from myself most. The amount of emotional energy any one of us has to put into supporting, avoiding, addressing, healing, resolving, soothing, or staying out of such things is sometimes pretty fucking ridiculous (and draining). We inflict it on ourselves through social media, we find it forced upon us in our relationships, we create it in some moment of frustration, disappointment, or misunderstanding. It’s all very messy and annoying. We could do better. Unfortunately, emotional intelligence, critical thinking, conflict resolution, and healthy communication practices are rarely explicitly taught as part of mainstream curriculum (definitely not in the US), and many of us only notice the lack in our own life and development when we finally breakdown to the point of getting (and accepting) real help. Most of us just get by on a DIY approach, changing problematic behavior only after it destroys some important relationship, or after our life “falls apart” as a consequence of our shitty behavior or lack of emotional control.
“Feel what you’re feeling, do what is right,” a monster used to say to me. (I didn’t realize then that through other eyes I might be viewed as a monster, myself. PTSD is a relentless adversary, and hurt people do hurt people.) I can’t say I learned many good lessons in that relationship – and I’m lucky to have escaped with my life. This phrase has continued to stick in my memory. It’s an important idea about choice and values and free will and could have been really useful guidance if I’d had more understanding of my emotional experience in the first place, or if I’d had a more clear understanding of what I thought was “right”, and where I stood in relation to my values. It is more useful now, however regrettable the source.
Human beings, being human. It’s complicated. Sometimes some pretty important basics elude us until we’ve made a mess of our lives completely. Sometimes we just don’t accept guidance we’re offered. People are complicated. We’re each having our own experience, but often behaving as though we have shared perspective, values, and understanding of circumstances – even though we barely manage to communicate clearly. Often we aren’t even listening to the Other, we’re just wary, defensive, and waiting to talk. We could definitely do better.
Who do you most want to be? How will you be remembered by those who matter to you most?
I sit listening to the wind blow. It’s a different experience with the hearing aids in. I ask myself what steps I would take to improve a valued but contentious relationship if it were critical to preserve and deepen that relationship? What would I tell a friend if asked? I think I’d begin with utterly basic practices, starting with the Four Agreements. (Nevermind mind the “woo”, these are really effective basic practices.) I might also suggest:
Be sincerely curious – ask questions from a place of goodwill.
Listen deeply.
Assume positive intent.
Remind yourself why this person and relationship matter to you.
Behave with kindness.
Do not escalate.
I know. Not the easiest list of practical suggestions. Feasible with practice, but so many verbs and opportunities for failure. It can be really hard to pause in some moment of temper and say in an honest and vulnerable way “hold on, I want a do-over on this conversation, this is not how I mean to behave.” Practice will result in incremental changes over time. No guarantees that people dear to you will stick around while you struggle to become the person you most want to be. Use your words. Do your best.
… You’ll definitely have to do the work involved in being a better version of yourself, all on your own…
…Yes, it’s real work, and a lot of it.
I guess I’m just saying, things are sometimes challenging in these human relationships. It can seem so unreasonable to have to work so hard at them. It can be so worth it! Do your best – and when you fail (and you will), take a breath, apologize sincerely for the harm you may have done, and begin again.
Evening Light 