Archives for posts with tag: breathe

It’s a rainy morning. It was only a hint of a drizzle as I left the house, but here at the trailhead it is a steady rain. Still, I wait for the sun; this is my quiet time and I am alone with my thoughts. I probably need to be. We are mortal creatures and bad news weighs on me a bit. I use the time to process my thoughts, emotions, and the content of my dreams.

Sitting with the questions, and the feelings, waiting for the sun.

Yesterday evening was “stormy” – emotional weather. As strange as it seems (to me), I feel rather more hopeful about the future after the frankly painful discussion with my Traveling Partner, and my lingering concern that it was potentially somewhat one-sided in a way that could prove problematic later. Having the conversation at all feels like progress, and I am grateful that my partner insisted on bringing it up and following through on it.

I slept well and deeply. I woke from strange chaotic dreams of death, dying, and traumatic change – but my dreams lacked any particular amount of emotion and seemed more typical of “corporate training videos” than nightmares. I woke with Kendrick Lamar’s “Not Like Us” in my head, and the recollection of my partner saying “it’s mixed really well”, and my own thought that this is also so true of life. It’s “mixed” really well; there’s a lot going on, and somehow events seem to flow one to the next in a progression that generally makes some sense. Strange wake up.

I spent the drive to the trailhead thinking about love and partnership – and mortality. Uncomfortable thoughts about healing and change, growth and failure, and the all too limited time we have to be and become, filled my head as I drove. Finding real true abiding deep love is no easy thing. It takes so much more than happenstance. Sustaining that love if we’re fortunate enough to find it, (particularly if we’re traumatized wounded fancy fucking monkeys askew with chaos and damage), is this whole other journey of hard fucking work, and a commitment to vulnerability and change that a lot of us just can’t bear to contemplate at all. Doing it? Fuck that shit. It’s too hard. Isn’t it? So hard. But I’m here, still, and I want to be here, traveling life’s journey with this singular extraordinary human being who I love so dearly. Bumpy bit of path, this, that’s all. There’s real work involved. No room for complacency. No time for coasting on what once was.

We talked a long while yesterday evening. I cried a lot, while trying not to cry at all. He yelled some, out of frustration with not being heard, while trying not to raise his voice at all. A lot of useful relevant things got said out loud, maybe not for the first time, but taken as a whole it was worthwhile to hear them said. I listened a lot. I listened deeply. There’s no loss of love between us, but there is a lot of work to do. Seems like we both want to do the work, and it sounded like we have a shared idea of what the outcome could look like. Progress. I keep thinking about it.

Grief comes up. He soothes me best he can. Pain comes up, we do our best to commiserate gently and comfort each other. We talk about loss, and mortality, and open up about our fears. It was an intimate and connected conversation, although painful and emotionally difficult. I’ll probably be thinking about it for awhile. I probably won’t share more of/about it than I have. Too personal. Too…real.

… Seems like the sun is taking its sweet g’damn time coming up this morning…

I sigh to myself. Good morning for thinking and meditation. Good morning to begin again.

This morning an enormous full moon hung overhead as I left the house. I tried to get a good picture of it, which is to say a picture that looked like what I was seeing. This proved quite difficult. The camera “wasn’t seeing it right” – or at least it wasn’t capturing my perspective well, at all. Funny thing is, the camera only sees what’s there. It’s my perspective that’s giving me the beautiful view I’ve got. My brain changes what I see, providing undetected foreshortening, changing the scale based on what seems important to a human primate, things like that. I see a fantastically luminous full moon, very large overhead. The camera shows me what was actually there. I think this is worth thinking about. We create a lot of our experience and what we see and understand about the world. Our perspective may not reliably reflect what reality actually presents.

… Perspective is very personal. We’re each having our own experience…

So, I find myself thinking about the lens through which I view the world. It’s probably worth thinking about.

In the darkness, a man approaches my parked car unexpectedly. This is a first at this trailhead. He appears to be wearing jeans and a T-shirt, which seems strange for the chill of the morning. He begins asking, breathlessly, if I would give him a ride home, and says he’s run six miles, which also seems very strange – running at this hour? Along the highway? I firmly reject the request without opening my window and direct his attention to a nearby bus stop. I double check that my car door is locked, though I know it is. The lens through which I view the world tells me this individual is more likely to be dangerous than not.

Daybreak comes soon, but I’ve become reluctant to walk the trail in the early morning twilight. I examine the feeling more closely, as one might examine a watch under a jeweler’s loupe. Am I overreacting? Being ridiculous? Responding to a non-existent threat? Relying too heavily on past experiences with dangerous strangers? Perhaps, perhaps not. Sometimes we only get one chance to be wrong about something like that.

I sit with my thoughts awhile. I think, too, of my Traveling Partner, and the way our experiences with other lovers, in other relationships, informs our responses to each other in some moment of stress or conflict. We’re each having our own experience. Always have been, whether the experience is shared or not. We see the world through a different lens. Our perspective is our own. Even taking a much closer look may not reveal additional commonality so much as blow up our fears or doubts way beyond what they deserve… but it’s quite difficult to remain aware of it in the moment.

Between daylight and darkness.

I see the silhouette of the stranger in the darkness, lingering between the nearby bus stop and the trailhead parking lot. Why? I feel grateful for the techniques I learned for seeing things in the darkness that I learned as a soldier. So many things I have learned in a lifetime have had lasting utility. Unable to ascertain the stranger’s intentions and uncomfortable with his proximity, I move the car into the more distant parking lot as soon as the gate opens. I wait for daylight. I wait for the sunrise. I wait for a different perspective and more information. It’s nothing personal or even directly to do with that stranger; I’m choosing to silence the alarm bells clanging away along my nerves by reducing the potential threat. Feels like the safer choice.

Strange morning. Nothing really wrong, exactly. Good morning to think about perspective and the lenses through which we view the world. How accurate are those, really? I suppose only as accurate as our experiences hone and polish them to be. Probably not very accurate at all – how could they be, if we’re each having our own experience?

I think about conversations with my Traveling Partner yesterday. Some of those went incredibly poorly. Some were contentious, others loving. There were numerous miscommunications and misunderstandings. We don’t reliably see the world (or our shared experience) through the same lens. We’re different people, having our own experience, lived through our own perspective. It’s complicated by my brain damage. It’s complicated by the medication he’s presently on. It’s complicated simply because being human can be so complicated all by itself.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. Today is a new day.  I am fortunate to love so deeply and to be loved deeply in return. I have an opportunity to do better, to be kinder, to listen more deeply and to practice non-attachment. Perspective does matter, and so does giving people the freedom to have their own (and to have that respected). Another breath. Daylight comes. There’s no sign of the stranger who approached me in the darkness earlier. I feel a sense of relief.

It’s time to begin again.

Well, damn. That’s more than a little embarrassing…

Yesterday was quite a lovely day. I mean, it was definitely tending to be so, and I was relaxed and enjoying the day. Work was busy, complicated, and still quite fun. The day ended well, and I just had one errand to run to finish the week and call it the weekend. Easy. Routine.

… Right?.. Right?!..

It’s pretty easy to forget, when things are going well, that I do legitimately have some… “issues”. I start feeling as if I’m “past all that”. Feeling like my chaos is neatly tidied up, the damage repaired. “Nothing to see here.” It’s a pleasantly comfortable feeling, complacency, isn’t it? Which makes it all suck so much worse when shit goes sideways in some horrifically catastrophic feeling way that scatters shards of lingering trauma, broken bits of emotional baggage, and the wreckage of good intentions everywhere. It’s pretty horrible. The emotional damage done to loved ones dealing with it is embarrassing, inexcusable, and inflicts further trauma. It’s hard to make an adequate apology, making amends is even more difficult, and the fucking embarrassment, g’damn. The shame is a heavy burden to bear, and it can be complicated to prevent that from flaring up later as still more emotional bullshit. Fuuuuuuck.

So human.

Yesterday? Yesterday went sideways over a fucking product return. Yep. That was enough to push me entirely over the edge in actual seconds, and I may never truly understand why, let alone ever be able to explain it. It was bad. I lost my temper, my grip on reality, my ability to manage my emotions or even communicate clearly at all. My Traveling Partner was trying to help, but was immediately triggered, himself by my batshit-crazy bullshit, and wholly disadvantaged by also being medicated in a way that limited his ability to manage his own emotions or to support mine. It was (emotionally) messy. Ugly. Unpleasant. And it was over a fucking package. Over a moment of confusion and doubt regarding whether I understood which specific package it was and what return code belonged to it. Fucking stupid shit. Un-fucking-believable and a completely inexcusable overreaction to the circumstances.

No, apologies aren’t always adequate, which sucks. I still apologize. I’m still sincerely contrite and regretful. The damage is done and it may take time to rebuild a sense of emotional safety and trust. The whole messy business amounts to a powerful reminder regarding complacency. A reminder that mental illness is a real thing and the practices I practice to keep my shit together and foster mental and emotional wellness are not “a cure”. I still very much have to remain alert and self-aware.

…Well, shit…

I feel bad for the Anxious Adventurer. I wanted to set clearer expectations about my mental health and what challenges living in my home could present. My Traveling Partner shut that down, at the time. (I never asked why and don’t know.) What a shitty experience all around.

Here’s the thing though…

Waiting for the sun.

… Today is a new day. I can (and will) begin again. Yes, flare ups of mental illness suck. They’re scary and embarrassing. It’s horrible to understand how I have hurt those dear to me (and it doesn’t lessen the pain or the damage done that I’m talking about emotional violence not physical violence). I’ve still got to acknowledge the circumstances honestly. Reflect on things with calm self-awareness after the fact. Restore lost order. Make apologies and amends – and also move on and let it go.

Begin again.

It’s a new day. New challenges. New opportunities. A fresh set of moments, choices, and experiences. The day begins well, as I sit at the trailhead waiting for the sun. I started a new medication yesterday, intended to ease my occipital neuralgia and possibly reduce the pain of my cervicogenic headache. Will it be effective? Don’t know yet, but so far I am tolerating well, and it seems to have a pleasantly calming effect without knocking me out. In spite of numerous interruptions to my sleep last night, I slept well and deeply. The day begins well.

…I wonder where this path leads..?

Daybreak brings a new beginning.

Scattered plump raindrops greet me as I step onto the trail. I grab my rain poncho “just in case”. The trail stretches ahead, familiar, but also unknown; each new day is different.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s time to get to it. We’ve each got to walk our own mile. The trail isn’t always smooth, but the choices (and consequences) are my own. When I stumble, I know I can begin again.

It’s a quiet start to the day. The morning air feels subtly autumnal. I find myself regretting that I didn’t wear my fleece hoodie. The walking warms me up though.

One perspective on the morning.

There’s a low mist clinging to the ground along the river when I begin my walk. It drifts over the meadow adjacent to the trail, becoming a thin fog. It’s very quiet this morning. I don’t hear any birds, or traffic, only my footsteps and my breathing.

It is a routine work day, possibly a busy one. There is a project to be done, later, and later still an evening meal to prepare. I sigh quietly as I walk. The to-do list is long. Having the Anxious Adventurer in the household lifts a measure of the everyday housekeeping burden, but greatly increases the “mental workload” and emotional labor landing on me day after day, on top of the increases associated with caregiving for my Traveling Partner. I’m less physically exhausted than I had been…but… I often find myself very much “over” dealing with people at all, far sooner than I typically might. It’s a struggle to get enough time alone, unbothered by what everyone else needs moment to moment, and undistracted by pings, questions, or requests for my thoughts on the various topics. I often end up feeling like a bitch just trying to get a moment alone with my thoughts.

… I’m grateful for this solitary time in the mornings (and I am pretty certain it’s keeping me sane).

I turn the last bend on the trail and sit down for a moment to think and to write. “This too will pass,” I remind myself. I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s time to begin again… I head down the trail towards the car, and the beginning of the work day.

Moods can be contagious, good or bad (though it often seems the bad moods spread farther, faster, and result in a deeper change). The words and actions we choose also create ripples through the world around us, affecting other people and events, sometimes in unanticipated ways. Think about that for a moment. How we each behave, what we say, and how we say it, creates this world we live in.

All this? This is “your fault”. Yes, it’s my fault, too. Among us, as a group, we share the blame for the bullshit fucked-up mess that is this modern world, with all its pain and sorrow and inequity and violence and misogyny and terror. Humankind. We did this. We created it. We continue to benefit from it and to maintain it. Gross. Do better, people, please – before there’s nothing at all left that is worth saving.

What are you personally doing to make the world a better place today? Are you practicing kindness? Are you gentle with your words (yes, even when you are angry, frustrated, or hurt)? Are you practicing good self-care and consideration of others? Are you doing your best? Are you making a point to use whatever privilege you may personally enjoy to lift others up? Do you take steps to recognize and acknowledge injustice and seek to right those wrongs? Do you at least care enough to do what you can in the world to ease suffering by not fucking adding to the suffering in the world?

Are you looking for opportunities to do just a little more, just a bit better than you did yesterday?

I have serious doubts that any one human being regardless of apparent influence and “reach” can truly heal this fucked up messy violent world we live in… but g’damn, people, I am pretty fucking certain every individual one of us could do just a little bit more and better than we do right now. Think for a moment what a profound change it would make in the world if we each, as an example, simply stopped being petty and spiteful. Ever. At all. How much better would the every day experience of humanity as a whole become? What about anger? If 100% of every one of us learned to manage and express our anger more gently, and using only gentle words, how much more pleasant would the world be?

… And don’t even get me started about greed…

Every act of violence is an act of will. Every harsh word is preceded by a choice to say it. Every moment of pettiness, spite, and meanness is a moment that could have been handled quite differently. We have choices. Choose wisely. Be your best self because it actually matters to you – and to the world.

Maybe it’s not enough to do our best in these ways, but damn it sure beats doing nothing at all, doesn’t it? It’s free, it’s within our control, and each small effort to be kind, and compassionate, and considerate has the power to truly change the world in some small way as it ripples across the consciousness of humanity.

Choose your words and actions with care – because it does actually matter.

You have the power to make the world a better place. Will you though?

It’s a new day. Begin again.