Archives for posts with tag: drink water

The end of a work day. “Fire season” is upon us, on the west coast (and, um, why is that a thing, ffs?). The sky is a sick orange, has been for a couple days, now. The other-worldly impression already seems to extend itself in my sense of scale, such that it feels, subjectively, like… normal. It isn’t. Not at all.

…There’s quite a lot in life that seems to work that way; the grotesquely abnormal, over time, becoming almost routine, and definitely expected… I try not to allow myself to forget bluer skies.

I take a breath. Today I’m exceedingly grateful for air. Right now it’s tainted with the smell of smoke, and particles of ash that continue to fall from the summer’s wildfires. My throat is sore, and my voice is hoarse, but I feel safe at home, so far. I embrace the gratitude, and let go of the complaints. I’ve got much to be grateful for…

…And I’ve got time to begin again.

I’m drinking cold fizzy water. My work day is over. My Traveling Partner is in his shop, making something specific of nothing-much components – tools and knowledge make a lot of things possible. I reflect on small irritants, and things for which I am grateful, too. Sometimes the irritating things in life feel damn near inescapable. I often find that taking time to savor the things in life I cherish, and to reflect gratefully on the many many things in life that don’t irritate me, is time well-spent and a helpful anodyne to the plentiful aggravations life may throw my way.

Perspective matters.

Yesterday began well. A lovely day.

One very cool thing about perspective is that it can change. It can be willfully, deliberately, altered – by choice, if you’ve a will to choose to do so.

A strange haze began to develop, later in the morning… or was it just a trick of the light?

It’s tempting to see perspective as a single point, just one way of looking at something, or one position from which to consider things. Is it, though?

There’s definitely a haze, later in the day, and a high wind storm warning to go with it.

There’s often more than one “right answer”, more than one solution to a problem challenge, more than one way that “things go together”. On and off I keep contemplating perspective, and how best to make use of it to understand the country I live in, my own circumstances, or the strange times I find myself in. We’ve only got this one planet, and these all-too-brief mortal lives…

The otherworldly result of smoke from distant fires.

…somewhere, communities and forests and fields are burning. Fire season. Cities, too, for other reasons. It’s a very good time to contemplate perspective – and to broaden it. There’s more to understand than I can even grasp. I have another drink of water. I’m grateful for cold clean drinking water. I’m grateful for this place I call “home”. Even that sick strange orange sky – I’m grateful to be able to see the sky, and to breath the air. I read some of the news. It’s bad in some places. I put it down – it’s not new news, just words about things I’ve read before.

What are you “for”? What are you “against”? Why do you feel that way? What have you done to test your assumptions? (I’m betting you’ve made more than a few assumptions, without testing them; it’s very human.) Would you refuse to test drive a change of perspective if you knew doing so might change your thinking? What does your answer tell you about the person in the mirror?

Too many questions, and my water bottle is empty. The sky is still a crazy sort of orange that fascinates and alarms me. One way or another, we’ve got to begin again.

I’m drinking water. It’s a healthy smart idea on a hot summer afternoon. The weekend, thus far, has been quite lovely. I’ve run a couple needful errands. Managed to relax and enjoy my Traveling Partner’s good company. My sleep has been… poor. Noises wake me. Variations in household temperature wake me. Turning over in my sleep then becoming disoriented (still pretty new in this space), which causes me to wake feeling as if I am “in a strange place”. Small stuff.

I’ve been racing around running errands and handling household needs most of this long weekend. That’s the subjective experience, anyway. I’m not even bitching about it – just making note of the feeling, and reminding myself to also take care of me, too. I remind myself to do some small thing that is for and about me, and, if not “only me”, then at least very much something that matters greatly to me, specifically, that meets needs of my own. I know me; it might seem fine in this moment to just take care of other needs (even my Traveling Partner, who I adore), but when the weekend is behind me, if I haven’t also done some things for the woman in the mirror, there’s a better than average chance that resentment will develop later on. That’s not really fair to anyone who ends up on the receiving end of whatever tantrum might tend to follow; it’s about the self-care. I’m the only person who can handle the important business of self-care for me. You, too, right? You’ve got to take care of you – because literally no one else can meet your self-care needs. 😉

…So… What do I need? That’s an important question. I keep sipping on this refreshing bottle of fizzy water, into which I added a tablespoon or so of dill pickle juice. I know, I know, that doesn’t sound super tasty to most folks, but it’s actually not unpleasant, doesn’t require sweetening to “taste good”, and definitely tends to ensure I’m getting some minerals along with my fizzy water. Sometimes I also add some lemon or lime, and a bit of sea salt. If I’m dehydrated on a hot summer afternoon, this concoction may as well be a delicious fruity Italian soda, because it tastes so good I just want to chug it. lol If I’m well-hydrated on a pleasantly cool day, it’s a bit like trying to drink Pedialyte (meaning to say, not that tasty at all). Today? I’m definitely needing to drink more water. Nice bit of self-care, here, and easily done.

Self-care is about way more than drinking water, though. It’s also about emotional wellness. Fulfillment. Life satisfaction. There are lots of kinds of needs to meet in life. I think about my partner, happily setting about doing a project. That’s a way of meeting needs, too. I sat down here, to write. Another need being met. I’m looking forward to having a soak in the hot tub, once the water temperate drops another degree or two (hot day – a cool soak will feel refreshing). More needs being met. The house is quiet while I write, and I let the quiet be what it is, instead of putting on music or a video in the background; it’s a choice that meets my need to reduce the amount (and “density”) of cognitive stimulus reaching me, which meets still another need. I think about the garden I am planning for out front (next year’s big home project, for me) – putting time into that planning meets needs, too. Everything I do to care for hearth and home meets needs – but other needs are not so easily met through mindful service of that sort. I think about art, and writing. I think about thinking, and meditation. I think about the books I want to read, and the trails I’d like to hike. I think about “giving myself a break” – and what I think I mean when I think that thought.

…Even this solitary moment spent doing nothing more than considering what I need from myself this weekend meets some needs. 🙂 It is time I am spending on myself, and my needs. 🙂

I take a sip of my water. I take a deep breath. I relax, and feel the quiet smile on my face as it reaches the ends of my fingertips and the tips of my toes. I need this moment, here, now.

Later I’ll begin again. 🙂

I’m sipping my second coffee on a sunny Sunday morning. My Traveling Partner is preparing to undertake some household projects, partly to improve our quality of life, and partly (I feel fairly certain) to satisfy his own creative joy. I feel content, and also a certain strange happy satisfaction to see his power tools ready for use, and hear the details of his plan for the project in front of him. It “feels like home”.

…It has taken so long to get “here”.

One perspective on “home”.

In this instance, not a geographical location at all, nor an address, maybe not even a point in time – it’s more than any of that. Feels good, though, and I take a moment to think about a conversation I had with my partner, when he moved into my wee duplex with me. We were talking about the potential need to move into a somewhat bigger place (pre-pandemic). I remember feeling distressed and agitated, and struggling to communicate what felt so “urgent” to me, personally; I did not want to move again unless it was into our own home. It felt non-negotiable after having to move 5 times in 10 years. The constant chaos involved in moving is unpleasant for me, and has longer-lasting emotional wellness impact than I manage comfortably. The frequent change in living space messes with my head, and results in a loss of implicit knowledge of my surroundings – not necessarily a critical detail for everyone, definitely important to me personally.

I sip my coffee, appreciating the warmth of it, on a cool summer morning. The dewy surfaces out on the deck evaporate in the sunshine. My workstation, still set up in the dining room, has a view out to the deck. I can see my partner out there measuring things, taking notes. I smile. This is, if not “everything”, is surely enough to feast on with a happy heart.

“This too shall pass”. Of course. Everything does, at some point. We don’t know when the clock will run out on our fun, or our happy adventures, or the warmth of a smile that is dear to us, any more than we know with any certainty when our miseries or hardships will end. Everything does, though. Everything. I remind myself to embrace this charming happy “now” unreservedly. Enjoy the journey. Embrace change. Invest in love.

…Good cup of coffee… nice morning…

…time to begin again. 🙂

 

I’ve been sleeping very well and deeply for a few days now. It’s lovely. It’s a rare thing. I’m enjoying waking rested each morning, with the lingering remnants of my dreams colliding with each other as I make my morning coffee. The impositions of changing my living space so substantially haven’t really been “all that” this time around, which is also very nice. I feel comfortable here. I sip my coffee smiling, in spite of a stiff neck and some morning pain. I appreciate where life has taken me, so far. I’m grateful for my good fortune, and for the outcomes of my efforts and my decisions (and those shared with my Traveling Partner).

Another day.

My coffee is good this morning. I sip it contentedly, over the news, shortly after meditation. Yoga helped some with the pain in my shoulder and neck. Maybe not “enough”, but it seems rather early to be adding an Rx pain relief solution to the day. I had intended to start the day with a walk, but it seemed so dark at the time, I decided against it. It now seems like a much better time, but it’s also close to the time I generally start my work day. lol I decide to make taking that walk a nice break later in the morning. I enjoy having the choice to do that.

Simple self-care is so critical to the quality of my experience of my life, generally. I wish I’d understood that much sooner! Sleep. Enough water. A nutritious, calorie-limited diet. Carefully managed healthcare. Exercise. Meditation. I mean… every one of those things is probably equally important… none of them seem like negotiable details or “frivolities”… Are you taking the best care of yourself that you know how to? (Am I taking the best care of myself that I know how to?)

I think over the day ahead, and consider what needs to get done, and how best to fit in caring for myself, along the way… I look around my studio… There are still some details that don’t feel “moved in”, in this one room. Chaos. My personal chaos, reflected in my working space. I shrug to myself, in acknowledgement more than as an excuse. I think ahead to the next weekend, while also admitting there are some things I can easily work into the week – no need to wait. My industrious Traveling Partner pushes his projects ahead fairly aggressively. He sets a good pace; it’s not a competition. I smile, thinking about our tidy home, and the team work that gets us here, together.

…I remember the paintings in the back of the car. I brought them home from the office yesterday. I remind myself to retrieve them from the car before the heat of the day turns the garage into one of the gates of hell. (I exaggerate, but it has been quite hot.) My “to do list” grows slowly, as I sip my coffee and think about the day ahead. I should get on that. It’s already time to begin again. 😀