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It’s a Jungle Out There

November 4, 2017 //
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Maybe I shouldn’t have put my headphones on first, filling my head with music. Jungle. Drum-n-Bass. Oh. Hell. Yes. lol But… now I am staring at a blank page. Head full of sounds. Dancing in my seat at a loss for words.

If you have Facebook, let me share the moment with you. 😀

It’s not a day for adulting, really…well… I mean… I can loosen up a little. It’s Saturday. I’m not working. One more coffee and I’ll hit the highway heading for a different point of view on life, an alternate perspective, a whole other moment. 🙂

Yeah. This morning, this is enough. What about you? Needs met? Concerns eased? Able to take just a wee moment or two to put down the stresses of other days and just… breathe – or dance? If not now, when? 😉

Don’t forget to take care of the human being in the mirror. Be sure to give yourself a chance to begin again once in a while. 🙂 See you on the other side of the weekend, you beautiful beautiful human. 😀

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, Free Will, health, Healthy Living, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, The Art of Being, The Big 5

All of the Uncertainties, All of the Choices

November 3, 2017 //
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I’m not at all firm on what to write about, this morning. I often begin that way, and it is a state of things that does not cause me any particular stress. I put words in the title field, and then begin typing in the text box, and away I go. Writing coherently, fluidly, about something that matters to someone, in a clear, specific, insightful way… is not a given. It’s more a coincidence, I think, when it does work out that way.

I think that “insight” is more to do with you, the person reading the words, than me… or the words. We each have our own dictionary, and what I think I’m saying may not at all be what you understand me to have said, and this need not be a relevant concern to the matter of insight, at all. You’ll likely make some assumptions as you read. Maybe if you know me personally, you read my words “in my voice”, but is it my voice now, or my voice of some other lifetime? Are your assumptions accurate? Were mine? If you don’t actually know me personally, in what voice do you hear these words, when you read them? There go those assumptions again, at work in the background. Who do you think I am?

If I got something from the process of writing the words, and you get something from reading the words I wrote, does it matter at all if we understood completely different things? Perhaps – at that point we attempt to explain to each other how well we understand one another, I could see that being a potential sore point, but… maybe not? Maybe? I don’t have an answer here, only a question. It’s not even an important question. Just a random thought on a Friday morning.

I make a second coffee, and marvel at how terrible it is. How is this cup of coffee possible, from the same beans, using the same machine, made in the same way, by the same method, into the same cup, at all different than the previous coffee?? I take another sip, puzzled, curious, and seeking greater understanding. I like understanding things. Yeah… No – this is one terrible cup of coffee. Wow. I mean… like… an achievement of bad coffee, a stand out, an extraordinary demonstration of how poorly made a cup of coffee can be – and I didn’t even need to use a percolator, an air pot, or poor quality additives. Good grief. This sucks. I mean… on this whole other “No, seriously? I must be wrong… one more sip…” level. lol This is bad coffee. LOL I am still drinking it… no idea what that says about me, or about human primates generally, but… this is me. Drinking terrible coffee. At this point, I am savoring this terrible coffee and even enjoying its noteworthy awfulness. Please don’t ask me why would I do such a thing, because frankly… I don’t have an answer for that one, either. It is every bit as inexplicable as if I were to suddenly rise from my seat and do a cartwheel. lol

I think about the winter ahead. I think about the future. I sip my bad coffee, now mostly over how dreadful it is, my consciousness has moved on to other things. I think about love. I think about lovers. I think about the twinge of discontent that sometimes catches me by surprise in some lonely moment, when my awareness of age and aging collides with my awareness that I “still feel young on the inside”. This morning, the thought is merely a thought, and does not evoke an emotion. My thinking moves on.

I’ve a busy weekend ahead, and I am eager to get on with it. I’ll see my Traveling Partner this weekend (if all goes to plan, next weekend too!). Fuck I miss that guy. I’m ready to make the drive down, and I’m glad I seem to be well enough to do so; I don’t think I have the pro-adult skills to firmly decline if I weren’t up for it. I just miss him too much at this point. lol I consider the drive itself. It is autumn, and a lovely time of year for a long drive through beautiful countryside. Weather permitting, perhaps I won’t take the highway? A longer route, through scenic forests, down less traveled state highways and country side roads could be quite lovely and relaxed, and a great deal more like part of the weekend than mere transportation from point A to point B. (I-5 is efficient, but not beautiful, the result being the drive feels very purposeful, and more like “work”.)

The map is not the journey. The journey is, itself, the destination. Life’s menu of options is vast, and the choices are many. I am my own cartographer. I sip my terrible coffee and smile. The words pile up. I open up Google Maps with a plan in mind, ready to begin again. 🙂

 

 

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Categories autumn, Brain Injury, Free Will, health, Healthy Living, loneliness, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, The Art of Being, The Big 5

Then There Was This Other Morning

October 25, 2017 //
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My sleep continues to be restless and interrupted by the inconvenience of being ill. It’s not as bad as it was, and my symptoms continue to improve, nonetheless I am sleeping like crap. I woke several times during the night, briefly, and got up once to sip a soothing cup of tea before returning to sleep. I woke to the alarm, which seemed needlessly loud, and a pounding headache, which… hurts. I woke feeling tired. I plod along as the morning continues. I feel uninspired.

It’s definitely obvious that I’m not feeling well, when I look around the house. I experience a moment of real annoyance, which suggests I’m also feeling better for real. My housekeeping definitely suffers when I’m sick. I almost had the energy to do something about the state of things, when I arrived home from work yesterday, but… I’d run out of spoons. I went to bed early, instead of doing any housework at all. The closer the weekend is, the more housework I’ll be cramming into less time, if I want the place to be tidy when I return home Sunday evening… or… I’ll have to allow myself to not do that, like, even at all, which… would be weird.

I sigh quietly looking at my “to do list”. It’s not really all that bad, it’s just… I’m sick and I really only want to go back to bed. lol Living alone does have, as one obvious consequence, the down side that I’ve got to take care of myself, and all of everything else besides, when I am sick. There’s no one else here to “pick up the slack” or take care of the laundry and dishes and whatnot when I’m not up to it. I’m mostly okay with shit just not getting done until I feel exactly enough better that I am once again aware that it matters to me after all… The trick, it seems, is to learn not to over-react and exhaust myself trying to get everything tidied up and put right when I finally do get going on it.

This morning I teeter on the edge of feeling sufficiently ill to just want to go back to bed, generally, and feeling enough better that it really really bothers me that there are dishes in the sink (because I was too dizzy-tired-weak to both empty the dishwasher of clean dishes, and also load it again with dirty ones). I’m seriously aggravated with myself for how untidy the kitchen is. I’m annoyed that the small trash cans placed here and there for convenience are all filled up with used tissues, particularly because it is trash pick up day, and if I hustled I could empty them all and take the trash down the driveway in time to be hauled away. I’m not yet ready to move quite so briskly. Shit.

I start feeling really frustrated with myself, and with being sick. I have shit to do!! The bang when I set my coffee mug down abruptly, more firmly that I realized I would, gets my attention. Oh hey, no kidding, this is really bugging me…

I pause and let myself really breathe for a moment or two. I correct my posture. I put aside writing long enough to allow myself to truly feel heard – by me – on the matter of the housekeeping. I sit with my aggravation for a little while, allowing myself to recognize how frustrating the situation is for me, being too sick to keep up on the housekeeping, because I associate (my) poor housekeeping with (my) symptoms of mental illness. My earliest obvious sign that I am struggling and perhaps disordered in my thinking, is often when my environment is also becoming disordered. I like order. Nothing wrong with that. I breathe, and contemplate my fondness for order. I accept that being sick leaves me with much less energy for physical work, and allow myself to compassionately acknowledge that this is what it is, and is very human. I remind myself there is no one here criticizing me; I am accountable to myself, sure, but also accountable to myself for treating myself well. I breathe, and relax, and find myself feeling more settled and comfortable, although eager to feel well enough to get on with things, which seems a healthier approach to the circumstances.

I add a couple things to my list that I’ll want to catch up on when I am able to do so. I promise myself that I’ll tackle the dishes by emptying the dishwasher this morning, and reloading it tonight after work. I find a couple other gentle compromises that get things done without tiring me. It’s enough.

I begin again…

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Categories anhedonia, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, Free Will, Frustration, health, Healthy Living, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, The Art of Being, The Big 5

Sometimes Tea is Better

October 24, 2017 //
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This morning I am annoyed by how poorly coffee serves to soften dry irritated regions of my throat. Isn’t it a hot beverage? Isn’t that why I think tea is good for that? So… c’mon Coffee, help me out here?

We get stuck on an idea or belief, and clinging to our favorites isn’t such a harmless thing as choosing coffee when tea would be a better choice in the moment. We really hold on to some wild ideas. We make shit up in our own heads, don’t even verify that it is or is not true, then act on all manner of assumptions we build on that fantastical narrative we’ve crafted. Fairly silly, really.

Take time to question what you “know”. I’m regularly surprised at how commonly things I have embraced with great conviction and certainty turn out to be quite incorrect. Demonstrably, provably, unarguably incorrect. I make a point of questioning things that I feel very certain about, for that reason.

I enjoy a nice comfortable certainty, as much as anyone else. I seriously dislike the confusion and discomfort that come of having certainty toppled unexpectedly, or the drama of discovering too late that my assumptions were not shared, nor realistic. The more often I challenge my sense of certainty, and seek to verify assumptions in some explicit way, the more any lingering sense of certainty may be legit – because I’ve taken time to challenge it. Maybe more than once. 🙂

I finish my coffee. Switch to hot tea. Yep. Hot tea for the win. No idea why, but it is definitely better at softening dry sore throats. Definitely. I’m certain of it. Or… well… maybe it’s only that this is my second hot beverage, and the circumstances simply required more than one? lol Right. It could be that, too. I’m definitely less certain now. No less content. No less appreciative of a hot cup of tea on a chilly morning, hoping to get over this bit of a cold.

It’s a decent morning to be more correct, and less certain. Feeling super certain about things? Take time to test your assumptions, and fact-check your own content. It’s a good way to begin again. 😀

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Categories autumn, Brain Injury, Free Will, health, Healthy Living, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Sleepless Nights, The Art of Being, The Big 5

Um… Ouch?

October 22, 2017 //
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I woke in pain.

Damn it. A sentence that short doesn’t do the moment justice. Rainy, chilly, autumn days, and colder night-time temperatures, and here it is time again for my arthritis pain to become a serious shot-caller in my day-to-day experience. Damn, this sucks. I woke hurting, couldn’t roll over because my spine was locked up, rigid and aching, from my waist to my shoulders. I laid still with the pain for a few moments, taking time to be aware that I was able to breathe “comfortably” – for some values of “comfort” – and confirming fingers and toes move, and that I felt sensations in extremities.

Time for the winter practices, already? Yeah, looks that way. I slowly, with great determination, begin moving the bits and pieces that do seem pretty mobile. I flex fingers, arms, toes, feet, legs. I stretch anything that stretches. I find adequate leverage to roll to my back. I pull my knees to my chest one by one, and begin working on arching my back some small bit. I push-pull-rock and get rolled first to one side, then the other. Repeat all the motions on each side. Eventually, I am able to roll to my right side, push myself up on an elbow, pull myself the rest of the way using the arm on the other side, and a firm grasp on the edge of the pillow top of the mattress. Sitting up! Yes! It feels like triumph.

I sit for a few minutes, ignoring the tears – a combination of pain and relief, that spilled over as I sat up. Mornings like this one, I am “painfully aware” (lol) that one day I won’t be able to easily live alone; I’ll need help with basic things, at some point. Aging is a thing. I am definitely living that process. I sigh, and the sound fills the otherwise quiet room. Maybe a shower will help?

The long minutes lingering in a hot shower leaves my skin reddened in places, but my spine is a bit more flex-y, as a spine ideally would be. I don’t hurt quite so much. I can dress, with care, and anything to do with standing is as easy as ever, and that means – coffee. 🙂 My coffee this morning even turned out wonderfully well, and I am enjoying it with a smile that has no trace of the pain I woke in. Oh, I still hurt; it’s that sort of day. It’s more manageable now, is all, and that is enough.

I sip my coffee and think about the phone call with my Traveling Partner last night, sharing his autumn and winter travel plans with me. I think, now, about how those may/can change my own plans. I smile. The physical distance doesn’t change much for me; we talk regularly, and the specifics of distance are irrelevant in our digital experience. We see each other when circumstances and choices permit it. (Sure, I will miss him; I always miss him when he isn’t near me, but that doesn’t have to mean drama and bullshit. lol) I was planning to discuss my reluctance to plan regular visits down once the roads begin to freeze, or snow becomes a concern (even though I have chains, it’s just not my preference to tackle long drives in icy/snowy conditions); his plans are such that it just won’t actually be a concern. lol Win and good. Convenient. Stress-free mutually beneficial planning for the win! 🙂

First coffee finished, I make a second, and load a great set, from a favorite DJ who does a regular live cast on Facebook, to get me moving, and hopefully provide additional relief of my pain, and a bit more freedom of movement. Movement hurts, but it helps, too. Hard not to dance to great music.

I spend coffee #2 grooving in my chair, writing, and chatting with my Traveling Partner as we get our mornings started. A promising beginning to a leisurely Sunday. I open my “to do list” and frown at tasks I know I am not going to be able to do with any ease, and scroll through prioritizing the tasks that will be more easily handled today. I smile when I get to the line that says “get enough rest” – that’s one I can check off right now. 🙂

No idea what the day holds, but I’m here. You’re here. There’s an entire day ahead to make something of – and that’s enough. 🙂

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Categories autumn, Brain Injury, Free Will, Frustration, health, Healthy Living, Love, medical marijuana, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Relationships, The Art of Being, The Big 5, winter
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