Archives for posts with tag: be kind

Small things matter. Small details of our circumstances can make big differences in our experiences. Small choices that seem inconsequential in the moment can result in important changes that have lasting effect. Small gifts sometimes feel so much more intentional and heartfelt. Small things matter.

This year’s new Giftmas ornament, an unexpected little gift from my Traveling Partner.

Yesterday I was in too much pain to manage it easily. I did “all the things” and didn’t get much relief. By the end of the day just about everything was getting on my nerves on this whole completely intolerable level, and I could feel how short my fuse was getting over things that were… small. I made the choice to go to bed early, figuring I could just chill and read, and maybe rest a bit, even feel some better perhaps, rather than eventually lashing out at my beloved Traveling Partner or the Anxious Adventurer over some dumb shit that wasn’t personal, or even problematic. (I can’t even describe how painfully annoying the sound of a sauce being mixed in a small glass bowl happened to be, it was awful – and really really dumb to affect me that way.) It was a small choice – but a good one. I didn’t read long; I was exhausted from the pain I’d been managing all day, and quickly fell asleep.

I woke during the night “for no reason” – and annoyed about it when I could not easily get back to sleep. I checked the time. No anxiety, just curious, and saw that about 12 minutes earlier my beloved had sent me a message (also wakeful in the night). There was some sound outside keeping me awake, I finally noticed it. A hum? A whine? A train on siding somewhere not too nearby, but close enough to disturb my rest? A loud HVAC unit? Was it even a real sound, or just my tinnitus? My partner was awake, too, restless and uncomfortable. We quietly commiserated, and finally went back to sleep. It was a tender shared moment, no agita or aggravation. I appreciated the comfort of knowing he was there, sympathetic and caring. (I fucking love that guy.) Small moment, but it really mattered.

I made a small change to my routine, knowing I needed to get some good rest, and reset my alarm for a later time than I’d usually choose. Too late to get a walk in. That’s fine. I woke to my artificial sunrise at 05:00, from a sound sleep. I started my day in the usual way, otherwise, and headed straight to the office after making coffee for my Traveling Partner and putting out a breakfast snack for him. I know how much those small things matter to him.

…Small things matter…

Sometimes it feels like everything is huge, urgent, overwhelming, or “the next big deal”, but the small things really do matter. Little things like an unexpected “thank you”, or a moment of consideration, or a helping hand when you thought you might have to go it alone can really change how life feels. Consider being that for someone – today. That small thing could matter so much. This is a time of year that can be really hard on people, and we never really know what someone else is going through. So often “doing our best” includes wearing a mask or putting a good face on a serious hardship. We can each make a difference for the people around us by doing our best, sure, and being kind and considerate, yes – but also? Small things. Little things. Doing something just a little bit extra or out of the ordinary in some moment can mean so much – and it costs so little of our time or attention! What else is nice about this is that it can feel so amazing to do something for someone!

…Do little things for you, too; you matter. Take that moment. Explore that opportunity. Investigate that interest. Indulge your curiosity. Give yourself a moment of your own time and attention. Practice good self-care. Breathe.

All of it matters, doesn’t it? At least a little bit? Choose wisely – our lives are built on the choices we make. The journey is the destination. We become what we practice. (Good news, though? If you were a giant jack ass yesterday? You can begin again, and do better today.)

I sip my coffee and smile. I feel okay right now. It’s a good morning. A good moment. A nice opportunity to begin again, aware that the little things matter.

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.

Sharing that important opinion? Don’t bother. I mean, okay, your opinion matters to you. It feels good, maybe even important, to “be heard”, and social media gives that sensation a tremendous immediacy, as though you can actually share your relevant (seeming) opinion with the important (seeming) people you perceive as capable of making changes, or needing to be informed of your (“obviously”) critical thoughts and perspective. Only… mostly? No one is actually listening, and generally no one gives a damn about the random commonplace utterly ordinary (often ill-informed) opinions of the average Everyperson on social media. Maybe you go viral because what you said is sufficiently amusing or poignant or well-stated – but mostly you won’t, and mostly no one is listening, and generally no one gives a shit. Hilariously, we’ve mostly (as a society) given up on snail mail, though it sometimes carries real weight. Even that, though, often just amounts to more “screaming into the void”, and trust me, most of what you feel most inclined to say with such urgency isn’t even novel or noteworthy or of any great import. It’s been said by someone somewhere already. Most likely. Human primates tend to be fairly conformist thinkers with limited imagination (in my opinion).

Posts on social media often just sound like someone shouting at their television. It’s pretty pointless and not even very gratifying. lol This? Right here? It’s an example of that; it’s my opinion. I didn’t do any actual research. I don’t actually “know more” than someone else does. It’s just my own impression, based on my own experience. Is it worth sharing? I’m willing to be sufficiently honest with myself to admit that I don’t know that it really is worth sharing; it’s just my opinion, and I’m choosing to share it without any certainty that it matters at all. Hell, it probably doesn’t, and it’s likely that very few people will read this, and fewer still will care.

I write because I write, it’s really that simple (for me). I’d be writing anyway, and this I do know for a fact based on my lived experience over many years. It’s too easy to get caught up in the bullshit drama and artificially inflated sense of importance on social media – so I left social media. I still talk back to thumbnail titles and news headlines, because so often the content isn’t worth actually watching or reading; everything I need to know is in the bullshit click-bait title, right there up front trying to get my attention, and seeking my engagement. I “engage”, more often than not, by commenting aloud whatever my personal bullshit opinion is, and I move on to the next item. This amuses me without inflaming anyone else, and it’s every bit as likely to “move the needle” on some issue (which is to say, not at all). Less time wasted of these precious limited mortal hours.

I’m feeling a tad cynical, I guess. I need to paint, and walk trails with my solitary thoughts, and distance myself from the many disappointments of humanity – and oh good g’damn there are so so many. Humanity kind of sucks, and our best efforts to do better are not nearly enough. Please keep trying though; the effort does matter. I silently remind myself to do my best, and that the journey is the destination. It’s not about what anyone else wants or needs from me. It’s about what I want and need from myself; to be the person I most want to be, the “best version” of myself that I can become over time.

I sigh quietly, looking out into the morning fog. It’s a chilly autumn morning, and this morning I am waiting for the sun. It’s Saturday, and there is no hurry. The morning is mine.

I sit with my thoughts and my coffee. Later, I’ll begin again. It’s my path, and I’ll walk it my way.

Disappointment and sorrow are part of the human experience. So are misogyny and poor decision making, I guess. I feel sad this morning. It’ll pass. I breathe, exhale, and relax, and take time for gratitude.

I’m fortunate. I’ve got a nice little house in a good neighborhood. I’m married to a man I adore and who loves me unreservedly with his whole heart. I’ve got a good job and my health is better than it’s been in a long time. My commute each morning is a pleasant one, and I enjoy long walks on lovely trails nearly every day. The bills are paid. The pantry is stocked. My stepson helps around the house. It’s a good life and I am fortunate. Four years feels like a long time, but it will pass, and the future is unwritten.

It isn’t generally helpful to waste time on anger that can be better spent on joy. It isn’t generally helpful to grieve horrible shit that hasn’t actually happened yet. I do my best with it, sitting here quietly before my walk, thinking my thoughts.

Another breath. I lace up my boots. It’s time to begin again.

I woke feeling rested and positive. I sit quietly, now, at the rain-soaked trailhead waiting for daybreak, and enough light to safely walk the rainy trail before work. It’s quiet here, as if the whole world sleeps. Like so many things we may think we perceive, it is an illusion.

I use the night settings on my camera to see the “meadow” between me and the river out of view beyond the trees on the far side. It’s no meadow, now, (it’s been mowed and plowed) and I wonder if it’s been “so long” since I was last here? I really don’t think so. Change is. Sometimes it’s an overnight thing. Sometimes it comes at me much more slowly.

A field before dawn. A quiet moment.

I remind myself of errands I need to run today. While I remember them, I write them down. I need to pull a painting out of storage for shipment; it recently sold. I need to get my suitcase for my upcoming trip to the coast for a few days of painting. I’m exhausted, again, physically and emotionally, and I definitely need this downtime. A chance to sleep whenever I sleep, until I wake, with no agenda or commitments on my time besides my own attention on my self-care and my pastels. The sea air will do me good. I’m eager to spend time focused on art and self reflection, meditation, writing, and rest. Damn, do I ever need the rest. Wednesday evening seems simultaneously very soon and very far away. Four more work shifts. Six more days.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I’m enjoying the rainy morning. It reminds me I need to get out into the garden and clean it up for winter. I couldn’t keep up with juggling work, household tasks, and caregiving, and the garden got left behind. It’s untidy and wild. This weekend? Maybe. I pause and add a note to my list of shit that needs to get done. It’s a long list. I’m struggling to stay caught up. The Anxious Adventurer is some help, and i am grateful, but there’s so much more to do than he even knows to think of. lol

… I’m so tired. I worry sometimes that the stress of it may be shortening my life…

I pause my thoughts to add more to my list. Tasks that need to be done before I head to the coast for a couple days of not doing.

The rain begins to fall steadily. Maybe no walk this morning? The sun isn’t even up yet. No way to tell. I listen to the rain fall, content to sit quietly, waiting. This moment of quiet is enough, just as it is. I breathe, exhale, and relax. Plenty of time for meditation before the work day. The rain falls. I wait. I breathe. I rest. Soon it will be time to begin again.