Archives for posts with tag: embrace change

It’s a new morning. I hit the trail at sunrise, hoping to “walk off” this headache, this backache, the pain in my neck, and my general irritation with the day (which hasn’t even had a chance to get started)… but, as is often the case, all those things “follow me” down the trail and linger in my awareness.

Every journey begins somewhere.

…I find myself dreading the day, and feeling a bit trapped by my circumstances and choices. I remind myself how illusory such feelings can be, and to let shit go – let small shit stay small – and I remind myself to practice non-attachment, and to be mindful of impermanence. In the meantime, my steps carry me down this trail…

Pretty words and aphorisms don’t create change. My experience changes when I change my thinking or my actions, and it often takes some time. It’s a process. It’s important to understand that changing my own thinking and actions doesn’t change anyone else’s; it’s important to choose change based on what I want from the woman in the mirror. We’re each walking our own path, each having our own experience.

For many years I twisted helplessly within one relationship or another  trying to be the person a particular partner wanted, and often lost sight of who I,  myself, want to be. I suspect that’s not an experience unique to me. I try to approach things differently these days. I work on becoming the person I most want to be, myself, for me, based on my own values and sense of self. Taking the raw materials I’ve got, chaos and damage and all the messy broken bits, and practicing the practices that move me along my path in a way that causes no harm in my relationships, and creates harmony and connection isn’t reliably easy (or obvious), but I keep at. Seems a worthy endeavor and life is better for it.

…I am for sure not “perfect”… (there is no “perfect”)

Just as I walk this trail one step at a time, I walk my path in life one step at a time. The nice thing about this is that when I stumble (and I do), I can begin again – one step at a time. I set my goals. I measure my progress. I define my success (and my failure).

It’s been a challenging couple of days, for me. Caring for my Traveling Partner while he recovers from an injury has some difficult moments, bringing me to confront some things I would like to do differently and with greater skill. Requires practice. He’s got his own path to walk, and I can’t walk it for him – and it’s a poor choice to take that at all personally. His path is not about me. It’s more effective to focus on what I can do to be a good partner and care provider, and to be alert for opportunities to do more/better – or at least not make shit worse.

…I gotta say, my results vary…

The weekend is almost here. These days that doesn’t promise any great amount of actual rest, at all, there’s just too much to get done, and pretty much every day I already feel very behind on basically everything, more or less all the time. I’ll make a list of “must do” items and add things my Traveling Partner has explicitly asked me to take care of, and do my best to work down that list, task by task, until it’s all done… if I’ve got it in me. Some days I manage it. Others I don’t. “Everything I can manage” has to be enough.

I breathe the fresh Spring air as I walk. It’s a beautiful morning. I exhale each breathe grateful to have another day ahead to practice being the woman I most want to be. Who is she? How does she interact with the world? How does she handle her emotions? What’s her self-talk like? I see her as kind, considerate, experienced, and able to calmly deal with most of life’s chaos without losing perspective. I see her as someone helpful and understanding, compassionate and concerned for the state of the world (and her relationships). I see her being willing to listen, and honest without being unkind. I see her as comfortable setting boundaries, and respecting the boundaries set by others. I see her as a woman of great joy and enormous capacity for love. She’s hospitable, generous – but not a “sucker”. She walks through life with purpose, confident her path is right for her.

…Gotta have goals! Helpful to have a sense of self, both as I am here/now, and also where I would like to find myself. I walk on with my thoughts…

…Breathe, exhale, relax… walk on.

The day ahead seems more ordinary and routine, as I walk. I find myself more able to avoid taking my partner’s recent temper personally (or my own) as I walk down the path. Most of these moments of ill temper are a byproduct of injury or pain, and the ups and downs of medication taken to relieve discomfort or promote healing. An astonishing amount of the medication we’re given pretty commonly also happens to be mind or mood altering, though people rarely discuss it as being so. Even OTC stuff often has profound potential to color our thinking or the lens through which we view the world. I remind myself to be more patient and kind about such things, and to try to let petty aggravations just… go. It’s not personal.  Hell, sometimes that shit is barely real.

I laugh to myself, thinking about my own moments of misplaced temper in life. No shortage of those. Perspective. I could do better. I keep practicing.

I also keep walking. I get to the bench at the turn around point and sit down to write for a few minutes. This is some of my most cherished time each day. These few minutes of self-reflection and writing help me focus on what matters most, and help me find my calm center, my sense of perspective, and my joy. Whatever else any given day throws my way, I’ve got this moment, pretty reliably. That’s something worth having. I savor it.

I breathe, exhale, relax, and take a moment to enjoy the Spring sunrise and the golden hues that filter through the trees. It’s a new day, and I’ve got the path ahead, and a chance to begin again.

It’s early. Pre-dawn. I’m waiting for daybreak at a favorite nearby trailhead on a drizzly chilly-but-not-cold Winter morning, on a Saturday morning, a day before this year ends. I enjoy walking as a metaphor for forward progress, for momentum, and for pursuing a path. Good morning for it. It’s even seeming very likely that the rain may hold off long enough to get a proper walk in without returning home quite sodden and chilled, which is a nice bonus this morning. I’d be here, now, even if conditions were colder and wetter, but I am glad the weather is relatively mild.

I rub my eyes and sip the iced coffee I picked up as I headed up the road to this place. Good morning for that too; I’d hoped to sleep quite a bit later, and I am tired. So tired. I suppose I could nap in the car until the sun peaks over the horizon… but… I’d miss watching the sunrise. lol I do enjoy a sunrise. Another beautiful living metaphor, a sunrise speaks to me of change and renewal and new beginnings, and I enjoy each one I am so fortunate to see.

… Fuck… I could be sleeping right now, though… only I’m not. Nothing much to be done about that, however , so I make the best use I can of these precious minutes of mortal lifetime to do something nice for/with myself. That’s how I find myself here on this trailhead so many mornings, waiting for the sun. I’m okay with it. I’ve waited on the sunrise for far worse reasons in this life.

This iced coffee is very good. The barista did a great job pulling the shots for it. “Shaken espresso”, but without anything to flavor or sweeten it, and no milk or cream, just coffee and ice. On a colder morning this wouldn’t be an ideal choice, because I’d want to be able to warm my hands with the cup. lol This morning it’s 48°F, and an iced coffee seems fine. I sip it contentedly, as the waning moon overhead perks through the clouds and a gentle rain spatters the moon roof of the car intermittently.

It’s a good time for meditation and quiet contemplation of the year that is almost over. It’s a good time to reflect on what has worked and what hasn’t worked so well. It’s a good time to look ahead and wonder, question, dream, and plan. Later, the sun will rise, and it will be a good time to begin again.

It’s the first morning I’ve had any “writing time” in what seems like a very long while, although it has only been 6 days. “Only” 6 days? It’s been nearly a week! I am struck by how long it actually has been, even as I observe how little time that is, from another vantage point. I try to think about what I was doing before last weekend that would have halted my writing in that way, and finding myself a bit lacking. I startled myself with an abrupt bark of a laugh in this quiet early morning space. Right. That was it…

…The same events that changed the entire character of the “department on-site get together” I went to the city for this week had also altered the flow of my days last week. Just that; work. There it is, though; change. Change is

What had been planned as a fun sort of re-calibrating/re-charging sort of get together of colleagues who rarely meet IRL or work together collaboratively in a shared physical space in a single time zone became a tactical gathering of professionals doing what they do in an extraordinary way to meet extraordinary needs. Instead of a handful of structured pleasant meetings, ice-breakers, team-building exercises, and after hours get-togethers and social activities, it was work. A lot of work, long days, fast-paced and very demanding, and we were mostly all too exhausted to do much partying. Most of the structured strategic planning or informational sessions were just cancelled, and others were re-planned to be recorded content for later consumption. Many of us didn’t make it to any after hours activities at all; too tired. I put in about the same hours in 3 days this week than I generally do in an entire week. lol The week is not over.

I’m not even bitching about any of this. It was amazing to see the team come together as a well-coordinated effective professional powerhouse. We got so much done that was needful and even urgent. Pretty cool. (I would not want to try to sustain this kind of intensity or pace, it would quickly be exploitative and abusive.)

I’m so glad to be home again! I feel rather as if I was very far away for a very long time, although I was only gone 3 nights, and I was only 47 miles away. My Traveling Partner missed me. I missed him. (So much!) We enjoyed a lovely chill evening together. It was nice to cook a simple meal in my own kitchen (we had hot dogs). It was so good to be in my own bed, again. 😀

I’m only half un-packed, and I’m sitting here sipping my coffee thinking about how to most easily pivot from getting laundry done and unpacking to repacking for my wee coastal holiday next week. (So soon!) There was nothing restful about the trip to the city I just returned from, and although I missed my Traveling Partner enough to consider (briefly) canceling my coastal getaway, I know I actually really need to take some proper time for myself, to rest and recharge. I’m so tired! LOL A couple days on the coast, sleeping in, writing, reading, drinking coffee, walking the beach – it will be a healthy investment in my wellness and resilience.

I sigh out loud, remembering an errand I need to run today and making a point of putting that “top of mind”. I feel my attention tugged in the direction of planning the day. It must be time to begin again… 😀

My coffee tastes different this morning. It’s not because I am sitting cross-legged on the surprisingly comfy Queen bed in this seaside hotel, not even because it’s fairly typically-terrible hotel coffee made in a fairly generically terrible-coffee-making drip machine sitting atop the small room-sized hotel refrigerator, but more because I am sipping it solo, with no chance at all of sharing the moment with my Traveling Partner. Right at the moment, in all practical terms, we’re traveling separately (he’s sleeping still, at home, I hope, and I am sitting cross-legged in sloppy-loose blue jeans, laptop perched precariously on my lap, waiting for my terrible coffee to cool enough to drink properly).

I’d say my goal of relaxing and getting some “down time” before shifting gears to start the new job has been successful; I woke having entirely forgotten about Daylight Savings Time, and looking at the clock and finding “6:30 am” to be both believable, and an acceptable time to wake on a leisure morning… I woke up. I laughed when I finally noticed the discrepancy between the clock that I had checked upon waking (which automatically updated) and the one that did not (provided by the hotel, plugged into the wall in the usual way). I shrugged it off and got started making terrible coffee and looking over the notes I took at several points yesterday, as I walked and wandered, waited and reflected, breathed and meditated.

The ocean does not care when or whether I check into my hotel room, nor when I leave. My presence makes no difference to the timing of the waves, or the fierceness of the winds.

I arrived to the shore much too early to check into the hotel, and my room was not yet ready. Didn’t matter much; the endless ocean tickled the shore without regard to check-in times. The hotel graciously allowed me to use the private beach access in the meantime, and I went down what seemed like 1001 concrete steps to the beach. The wind was brisk and cold. There were bundled up families flying kites and enjoying the day. There were even barefooted kids playing in the shallow water of the waves as they spread across the beach, then receded; they seemed as shore birds, running forward as the water pulled back, running back as the waves spread forward. I found myself reflecting on that. There’s something to learn, there, I suppose.

…This coffee is simply dreadful. I add sugar and the available non-dairy creamer. Still awful. I’m still drinking it…

I gave up beach walking when my legs became tired, and trudged patiently up those many steps once more. Room not yet ready, I headed into town and, masked and distant, and wandered through enticing antique shops.

In a shop filled with carefully crafted miniatures, I find room after room of furnishings that seem to be idealized versions of various stages of my own aesthetic, and wonder if, after all, so many of them could really have come from… doll houses?

The tourist “traps” that line the street are the sort common to any seaside town I’ve visited… saltwater taffy shops, “old time” candy stores, antique shops, t-shirts, sea shells, and nautically themed whatsits of all kinds (lighthouse sculptures, pirate “treasure”, glass fishing floats and paperweights, and “the world’s best” of some local dish). I wandered until I was more distracted by my own thoughts than engaged by what I saw in front of me, and returned again to the hotel, and to the beach, to walk and reflect awhile longer.

I sat for a long while, occasionally attempting to light a joint in the fierce coastal “breeze” without success.

I spent a couple of contented hours walking, and thinking. Reflecting on lessons learned, both generally (and recently), and also specifically (with regard to my most recent job, and how to make good use of what I learned in future roles). It was time well-spent. Aside from the wind and my tinnitus, the only thing I was hearing was… me. I walked the beach listening deeply to what the woman in the mirror has to say… about life… about love… about work… about a future that is unknown (and largely unknowable). I contemplated the confounds of expectations and assumptions.

…At check in time, I made my way to my room, let myself into this small space that is more or less my own (until check out time), and unpacked my baggage – literally, and metaphorically.

…Damn this is dreadful coffee. Wtf? Why am I putting myself through this? LOL I stare into the cup, warm in my hand, astonished by its prodigious awfulness with a certain amount of respect; it’s a hell of an achievement for a cup of coffee to be this bad.

I took time to reflect on all I’d seen, and on my notes, and the many “living metaphors” the day had presented to me.

I ask myself “the hard questions” on my mind as the day becomes evening… What matters most? What has me chained to some past moment? What have I accepted as the basis of my sense of self? Is that truly “who I am”? How do I free myself to soar to greater heights? Where does my path lead? The moments, questions, and the thoughts they carry with them crash onto the shore of my consciousness, and recede one by one. I find “embracing change” to be a process, and an ongoing practice. Taking some time alone to be with my thoughts – and, unavoidably, with my self, is a useful break for “sorting things out”. For finding the signal in the noise. Life may not have a map, but I can sure jot down some notes as I might if I were writing down directions to go from here to … somewhere else. It’s important to be clear on the desired destination. It’s important to be aware of where I stand right now. 🙂 With those things in mind, how much more easily can I begin again?

…It’s that time, isn’t it? Beginning again, I mean. The new job starts tomorrow. The new laptop was delivered Friday, and is waiting for me to set it up.

…Fucking hell I am missing my Traveling Partner this morning. I missed him ferociously last night, too. The value in missing him has nuances that are worthwhile experiences of their own. Missing him reduces the likelihood that I will take his precious presence in my life for granted. Missing him reinforces how much I enjoy him being part of my experience. Being absent the many things he does for me (and for us), large and small, reminds me that I legit don’t do as well for myself on my own as I seem able to in this specific partnership. (Not dissing myself or minimizing how much I appreciate myself for (and as) myself, just saying there’s a ton of stuff that just doesn’t seem to stay on my radar, and my sometimes general lack of fucks to give, or pain, results in more chaos than I easily manage… and that seems far less likely in his company, and with his help.)

…And both of us make an excellent cup of coffee that is so much better than this warm brown liquid that I’ve decided can’t at all be called “coffee” – it’s just that bad, and I am seriously missing something better… and my partner… this morning. 🙂

The sun is not yet up. Check out time is not for another 3 hours. There is time to walk on the beach, time for a bite of breakfast, and time to find a better cup of coffee. LOL There’s time to begin again.

A group of rocks along the shore, exposed at low tide, inaccessible at high tide. Even in that, there is something to reflect on, a metaphor in action, something to learn about who I am, and where I am headed.

I look at the clock, and see daylight beginning to show through the curtains. Definitely time to begin again. 🙂

I’m sipping my coffee, looking over some completed work, and taking this firm break to refresh my thinking. The window shade is open, and I can see the wintry gray sky above the neighbor’s house, beyond the fence, and the naked branches of the pear tree. Human and filled with soft turmoil, hints of changes coming… or that could be, if I choose them. I sit quietly with my thoughts, not attached to an outcome, non-judgmentally, just… thoughts, and coffee, and a gray winter sky.

I listen to a jazzy rainy day station in the background; it suits the work, today.

I find myself reflexively seeking to return to work. My hands and eyes drift to more obviously purposeful things… but this break has a timer, and it is not yet time to return to work. 🙂 It may be time to begin again… for other values of beginning. There are bigger questions that need time to unfold comfortably, and, having been well-considered with patient thoroughness and calm, perhaps an action. Thoughts and coffee, first. 🙂

…It’s not as if I really know where my path leads, anyway, is it…?

I smile at my break timer. There are enough measured minutes remaining for another cup of coffee… and that’s enough. 🙂