Archives for posts with tag: do the work

This is a traveler’s tale, and a metaphor intended to provide perspective on a common challenge (for mechanics, travelers, and human beings, generally). 

Imagine, if you will, a person with a vehicle. The vehicle is used. The person intends to be the mechanic, and plans to “fix up” the vehicle for long-term use. The vehicle is not “chosen”, just happens to be the (used) vehicle at hand. It’s got… “issues”, some wear-and-tear, and some obvious damage. It’s the only vehicle available to the person-now-mechanic, no trade-ins, no swaps – it is what it is, and it’s got to last a lifetime.

The mechanic doesn’t have a manual for the vehicle, but other mechanics generously share what they have learned over time. He doesn’t choose to put this knowledge into practice; he’s sure he’s got this, and can simply do the troubleshooting and handle the repairs, although he doesn’t actually know much about the vehicle (in spite of having been the only “owner”, and using it regularly). He frequently complains about how crappy his vehicle is, and when offered advice generally finds ample reason to disregard it, or contradicts with some reason the advice doesn’t apply to his vehicle at all. 

This mechanic – on top of not having a repair manual for this vehicle – has never repaired a vehicle before, never done much troubleshooting, never had any training on vehicle repair (and most of what he “knows” about maintenance is incorrect). His toolbox is… empty. He has only his vehicle, which needs repairs, and his less-than-fully-committed desire to fix it (and continue to use it). He regularly swears at, and about, the vehicle, calling it names, dismissing its value to him, and expressing no particular gratitude for having a vehicle that runs, at all, even though it regularly manages to get him from place to place pretty reliably. 

Friends of the mechanic – mechanics themselves – offer the mechanic tools to add to his toolbox and make suggestions about how to proceed, based on their own experience learning to maintain and repair their vehicles. He slowly acquires some wrenches, a socket set, and assorted other basic tools for getting the necessary work done. Nothing much gets done; he doesn’t yet know how to use the tools, nor how to repair the vehicle (having overlooked, forgotten, or disregarded all the information and suggestions provided to him). He’s too embarrassed to ask how various tools work, or how best to use them. (He doesn’t want to “look stupid”.) He walks around his vehicle each morning with a frown, giving it an occasional kick, or knocking on it randomly with a wrench. He knows nothing. He’s pretty convinced he can – and must – do this entirely on his own, though all of his tools and knowledge have come from other mechanics, as it is. He doesn’t apply that information, nor learn those lessons. He stubbornly insists he’ll do this himself… then does nothing, because he doesn’t know what to do, which tool to use, or how to proceed. 

…He’s not even really sure what’s wrong, he just feels “everything is worthless and terrible”, without recognizing that much of his situation is his own doing… 

The mechanic continues to drive his damaged vehicle which runs poorly. He continues to bitch constantly about what a piece of garbage his vehicle is. He becomes angry with the frustration of mechanics around him who don’t understand how it is he feels so helpless…and they become angry with him. (Have they not provided the information? The tools? Some guidance? Haven’t they offered to help?) He’s sure they “don’t understand” his situation. His vehicle is a broken piece of shit that is worthless!! How do they not see that? Why don’t they tell him how to turn his broken vehicle into a luxury sports car in three easy steps?! Why didn’t he get a better vehicle in the first place?? How is it not obvious to every mechanic around that he’s at a unique disadvantage that surely they can’t understand!? Each morning, he wakes up, goes to his broken vehicle, and crossly goes about his business, frustrated and filled with despair. He often wonders if maybe he just sucks as a mechanic – but he’s yet to actually undertake any repair work, or try to repair his vehicle. Mostly, he just uses it and complains about its condition. Sometimes he lets it run out of gas, then complains about how the vehicle let him down, again. Sometimes he parks it carelessly, then complains about new damage when rolls downhill and hits a fence post or a tree. Sometimes he performs some maintenance task, but rejects all the instructive advice he was given, does the task incorrectly, and then complains that it “didn’t work”. 

…Doesn’t he deserve a luxury sports vehicle..? 

…Sure seems like everyone else has a better vehicle than he does…

It’s a metaphor. We’re the mechanics of these vehicles that are our mortal lifetimes. This fragile mortal vessel succumbs so easily to illness, injury, or simple fatigue. This delicate soul which inhabits our mortal form is easily damaged by trauma, disappointment, and sorrow. If we don’t practice good self-care, our experience over time degrades. We develop poor practices to cope with unpleasant circumstances. Our health may fail. Life happens – a lot – and there is much to endure. If we don’t “read the manual” (in whatever form that sort of information is available to us), we’re at risk of not caring for ourselves skillfully. When we don’t have the tools to care for our bodies, minds, and hearts, we may find ourselves broken, and feeling pretty lost and beat down. When we don’t practice the skills we do learn, those skills degrade and provide less value. When we reject help, or tools, from those around us who care and who have greater knowledge or experience, we slow our progress on life’s journey. 

…The journey is the destination…

We don’t know what we don’t know. There’s a lot to learn. Life is short – so short. I’m not saying being a mechanic is easy. We don’t even get to choose our vehicle! We get what we get – and it’s used by the time we realize we’re the only mechanic available to service it! 

  1. Practice using your tools. 
  2. Read the fucking manual. (And pay attention to useful information when offered.)
  3. Use the most appropriate tool for the task at hand. 
  4. Keep your tools organized and ready to use.
  5. Ask for help. 
  6. Accept help when offered – especially if you asked for it! 
  7. Do your best. 
  8. Take a break when you feel overwhelmed.
  9. Be grateful for the vehicle you have – it could be worse. (You could be walking.)
  10. Enjoy the drive. That’s the whole point. 

Becoming a skilled mechanic takes time and effort. Maintaining your “vehicle” in peak operating condition requires real work. Give yourself the time, and do the work. Mastery requires practice – a lot of practice – and there are no shortcuts. When you fail (and you will), learn from your mistakes – and begin again.

Some words of encouragement on a Thursday, over a cup of iced coffee and a side of sunrise.

New day, new beginning.

We become what we practice. Choose your practices with care, and an eye on becoming the person you most want to be. Don’t like the results? You can change your practices.

Forgive yourself for your very human mistakes and treat yourself with kindness. (Why bother when you may be feeling beat down and unworthy? Precisely because you’re feeling that way.) If nothing else you are worthy of kindness from yourself. We 100% all make mistakes. We can choose to learn from them.

Feelings are that – only feelings. There is no requirement that emotions be what do your thinking for you. Feel your feelings. Process your thoughts. Act with consideration and willful intention. So much less drama when our emotions are not left in charge.

Breathe. Take time for stillness and self-reflection.

Practice non-attachment. Clinging to objects and expectations creates chaos; reality doesn’t care about our expectations. Often our own expectations are enough to create our pain, stress, and unhappiness. Let that shit go.

Begin where you are.

You will be criticized. You will hurt. You will face disappointment. You will feel sad and you will feel angry. You will fail. You will struggle. These are all part of the human experience. You’ll also feel joy. You will feel merriment. You will laugh. You will endure. There are verbs involved, and real work to do. This is true for everyone and it is statistically unlikely that you are uniquely cursed.

Begin again when you fail. You will fail, everyone does. Begin again with each sunrise. Begin again with each disappointment. Embrace impermanence. This too will pass.

Unhappy now? It’s only a moment. You are your own cartographer. The journey is the destination. Keep walking. Keep practicing. Incremental change over time is a real thing. We really do become what we practice.

Are you ready? It’s time to begin again.

It’s time. Where does your path lead?

Another morning, another opportunity to begin again, to be the person I most want to be, to practice the skills that are most likely to result in good quality of life and healthy relationships… another chance to “get things right “. My Traveling Partner is right, I can be pretty hard on myself. I do tend to conflate “behavior” and “self”. When I fall short of my own expectations of my “performance” in life, my self-talk can become quite negative and more than a little punishing (definitely unkind). Those qualities don’t make “measuring up” easier. I could do better…

…I need more practice…

…another morning for gratitude…

It’s cloudy this morning and my back aches with the likelihood of rain today. My head aches ferociously. My sinuses are a bit stuffy. My tinnitus is so loud in ears I don’t hear the traffic on the nearby highway without really listening to hear it, buried in the static and whine of the buzzing in my ears. The morning seems annoyingly noisy… but it’s all in my head.

I reflect on the past couple days. I find myself admitting I could for sure be more kind and patient with my partner recovering from surgery. I have been too easily frustrated or annoyed by his 100% understandable frustration and annoyance with being both injured and also recovering from a procedure that now has him further limited by pain and the need to rest and heal when he so earnestly wants to move around and get shit done. We’re very different people. I keep finding myself rather stupidly expecting him to deal with things as I might deal with them myself, and it’s not at all reasonable (see “We’re very different people.” lol) It’s not just stupid, it’s also rude. I remind myself to let go of assumptions and expectations, and just be kind, considerate, and available to help when asked. I can count on him to let me know when he needs help.

But… It is a new day. It’s not really a “do over”. There are no “mulligans” in real life (not really), just new opportunities to begin again and do better – new chances to practice being the person we most want to be. It doesn’t eliminate any consequences of prior actions or words, though, and doesn’t resolve hurt feelings or make amends for damage done. All that? Totally separate. More verbs. Different practices. I  sigh quietly. Adulting is hard sometimes.

My Traveling Partner and I are fortunate; we trust the love we share, and it has proven itself many times. Feelings are feelings. We have our share of difficult moments, but the love is there and it endures beyond any petty bullshit or harsh words. We’re both human primates with noteworthy trauma histories and our share of individual baggage as a result, but fucking hell do we ever also love each other madly. I smile thinking about the enduring love we share. I watch the clouds shifting and drifting. The sun breaks through the cloud cover like a message of hope and encouragement.

It’s a pleasant morning for thinking about life and love, and how best to practice being the woman I most want to be. I sit with my thoughts awhile.

It’s also a nice morning to walk along the edge of the marsh. I breathe the Spring air deeply, smelling the scents of flowers. I reach down to lace up my boots, and prepare to begin again.

It’s early, but the sun is already up, and the sun rise is almost over by the time I get to my desk. I’m not running late, it’s just the changing season. I enjoy the variety, and take a moment to watch the evolving glow reflected in the windows of other buildings. Variety is certainly something I appreciate. This morning, that pleasure in going beyond “the routine” makes itself obvious in my choice of breakfast. I’ve been having a very high protein breakfast, lately, usually hard-boiled eggs, maybe with a small salad of mixed greens or spinach. This morning I’m having oatmeal with nuts and fresh fruit. The ventilation comes on, and I “enjoy” my breakfast with a side of sneezes – seasonal allergies. The trees are all in bloom, and the pollen eventually makes its way into the ventilation system. It is what it is. It’s not personal, it’s just… one of the weeds in the garden of life, I suppose. lol

The weekend was a lovely one, spent in the garden, and in the good company of my Traveling Partner. Time well-spent.

Some species of wild geranium is a very common weed in my garden.

I spent some of my time weeding various flower beds and around the base of some roses, and a small oak. The weed most often catching my eye is some kind of geranium. There are several, and without taking real time to study the features of this one, it’s hard to narrow it down. Invasive, sure. Commonplace, definitely. Mostly harmless, probably. Like a lot of weeds, it’s only a problem because it isn’t what I want to see growing in some particular spot. I pulled a bunch of them out, and tossed them in the yard debris bin, surprised to see that it is already almost full (for the first time this year).

I think about “the weeds” in my metaphorical garden (this life). Here, too, it’s sometimes hard to make an easy distinction between what is a “weed” and what is simply a wildflower growing in a less than ideal location. I think that over for awhile, sipping my coffee, and eating my oatmeal while I watch the sun rise. Because variety in life (and our experiences) is generally a good thing, it makes sense to approach ripping out our “weeds” with a certain bit of caution, and a sense of consideration – what makes a weed? Is there no lasting value to the things we consider “rooting out” of our experience? In the garden, and in life, there are definitely some scenarios in which the “weedkiller” of choice is more toxic than the displaced wildflower that seems so unwelcome in the moment… just something to think about. Certainly, it makes sense to eradicate the “toxic plants” in our metaphorical garden, just as it makes sense to maintain walking paths, stepping stones, flower beds, and structures with care and a sense of aesthetic. There is work to gardening, and to living life (well). The effort pays off in more substantial harvests of better quality, and the joy of simply being in the garden on a lovely Spring day. The flowers are worth a pause, to enjoy the scent, the colors, and the textures. Around every corner is a new perspective, a new angle of light, a new moment of wonder to embrace and enjoy. This is true in the garden and in life.

…The thing is, if we put so much time and care into creating and maintaining our garden, then only “see” it as we exit the car and head into the house, or leave the house for some other destination, without making time to simply enjoy the garden, itself, we miss out on much of the entire point of gardening, in the first place. This too, is true in life as well as in the garden…

So… I guess I’m saying, in spite of the busy-ness of adult life, and the demands placed upon me by work, and home, and responsibilities, and goals… I do myself a tremendous favor by slowing down to really enjoy the journey. To stroll through life’s garden, smelling the flowers and enjoying the sunshine, is the point of having the garden (well, and maybe also growing food). It’s not really there for show, or to impress the neighbors, or while away the weekend hours “staying busy”… it’s there to delight, to offer respite, to present small wonders, and a moment to breathe the scents of Spring and find joy (and harvest tasty vegetables).

…I sip my coffee, and think about my garden – and my life…

Rose “Sweet Chariot” – and some weeds.

There’s so much to do. So much to put time, effort, and thought into. So many projects I would like to get to. So many paintings I’ve yet to paint, and books I still want to read. The journey is the destination – in life and in the garden. Is my garden perfect? Hell no. lol I’ve got weeds. I’ve got bare spots. I’ve also got… flowers, vegetables, and sunshine. No, my life isn’t “perfect” and neither is my garden – but it’s mine, and it’s worth my time, consideration, and enjoyment. There’s more to do, but there’s no point rushing – I’m already “here”, wherever “here” is, and there’s plenty of time to begin again.

I’m at a favorite trailhead waiting for the sun, or at least enough daylight to safely walk the trail on this foggy morning. I’m also waiting for the park gate to open, which should be any minute now. Another early walker shows up, and just sits idling at the gate, instead of parking and waiting. I don’t take that personally; not my vehicle, not my choice, not my business. I’m ready to walk but not feeling impatient about it.

Yesterday evening my Traveling Partner and I enjoyed a lovely somewhat romantic very connected evening listening to music together, but it ended on a sour note. I wrapped up my day with some quiet time reading, hoping to avoid aggravating him further. When I woke this morning my head was still full of hurt feelings and irritation. Pointless and not constructive, over a moment that was just a moment. So… I used the drive to the trailhead to sort of sift through my feelings, supporting my emotional needs by acknowledging my feelings and developing an understanding of why I still felt hurt, and whether that had to do with some legitimate concern needing some follow-up, or perhaps just me holding on to shit because that’s what human beings often do. Having decided it was more “just holding on to shit” than anything else, I proceeded to just let it go. Yes, there are verbs involved, but it’s quite doable to let small shit go.

It’s a new day. For me, a new day is a sort of “cheat code” for moving on from shit I’d like to let go of. It’s a nice moment that draws a sharp line between some moment and this new day unfolding ahead of me. Useful. I breathe, exhale, and relax. The foggy morning envelopes the car. I wait for day light.

My Traveling Partner greets me when he wakes. We briefly discuss errands, and my plan for the day begins to develop: a trip to the store, a stop by a local merchant on the way home, waffles for breakfast, and some time in the garden later, planting spinach starts and kitchen herbs. It sounds like a lovely day!

Foggy, but fine for walking.

… But first? A quiet walk along river and marsh on a foggy morning. Then, I’ll begin again, again. 😁