Archives for posts with tag: emotional self sufficiency

It’s been a good weekend. Leisurely. Productive. Romantic. Merry. Casual. Relaxed. All around good weekend, still in progress…

My Traveling Partner left me love notes all over the house, recently. I haven’t taken them down.

I’ve gotten some housekeeping done. Cooked a good breakfast. Made a memorable lunch. Found tasty options for evening meals. I’ve also hung out, feet up, reading or writing. Made a batch of pickles from garden-grown veggies (including some delightful round lemon-yellow cucumbers). Made a batch of chocolate chip cookies (with walnuts). Enjoyed hours of my Traveling Partner’s thoughts and observations. Enjoyed loving him and being loved in return.

Love doesn’t have to be fancy or elaborate or exotic.

It’s been a good time to share with this human being I so love. I reflect gratefully on how fortunate I am (we are). I breathe. Exhale. Relax. I smile at him, though he’s occupied with his own thoughts and doesn’t notice. He’s vexed with new hardware. I remind myself that his frustration is nothing to do with me and let it go; he’ll ask if he wants my help.

…Right on cue, he asks me a question about a similar scenario I’d recently-ish experienced on an entirely different laptop. My recollection isn’t really helpful in any direct way, although he’s appreciative nonetheless. He knows I’m writing, and that asking me questions breaks my focus and my flow. I keep myself alert for his remarks in my direction as well as can, while also trying to let the emotion roll off me – it’s not “for me” or “about me”, and doesn’t have to be part of my experience in any practical way.

I think about a recent walk. It was incredibly satisfying and lovely. I went a bit farther than usual, at a slightly better pace. I’m working at improving my fitness, it’s just slow going. This particular walk was extra nice because it seemed I had arrived at the park first among visitors, and had the trails to myself for the entire walk, arriving back at the car just in time to see someone else pull in. It’s rare to have that kind of real peace an solitude, even for a few minutes, especially in a public place. I soaked it in. I savored it. I am thinking of it even now, days later.

Solitude as a perspective on a sunny Autumn morning.

It’s a funny sort of weekend. It hasn’t been “effortless” – no “freebies”. The crap in the news has triggered me more than once. It’s been rough here and there. I’ve worked at these joys and these precious moments. Still… in most ways, I think I can say with some pleasure and contentment that I’m… happy. Life feels pretty good. Small shit mostly stays small. I’m human. I’ve got my baggage. I’m prone to the bullshit with which I continue to struggle, but it’s not out of the range of “normal” human experience, I suppose. I’m okay with it. I get by.

…Practicing the practices…

…I’m not in this shit alone. That’s something. I’ve got friends and this delightful Traveling Partner of mine. I’ve got work, and purpose, and a sense of style. lol Feels good. I feel… whole. It hasn’t always been that way. I take a minute to enjoy the moment. Lo-Fi playing in the background. An atmosphere of calm joy. It’s nice.

I think I’ll “stay awhile”… soon enough it’ll be time to begin again. 😉

I’m sipping my morning coffee on a Friday off, and avoiding the news. I’ve got some chill lo-fi playing in the background, and my headphones on to further distance myself from the world. My Traveling Partner didn’t sleep well, and woke feeling cross with the world, so I’m distancing myself from him, too (and loving him deeply nonetheless). I’m thinking about how to best be (and become) my “best self” in spite of whatever the fuck the rest of humanity has decided to do (it doesn’t look good). How do I “do better” even though “the world” appears to be continuing to test the limits of doing worse? There are some puzzle pieces I don’t really understand how to fit together in this puzzle…

How do I persist in being authentically kind and sincerely agreeable and good-natured in the face of the potential that I may be perceived as “a doormat” – or an easy mark?

How do I set and manage reasonable boundaries – even within my closest and most intimate relationships – without causing friction or hurt feelings?

How do I speak my mind, share my truth, and discuss my own lived experience without sounding as if I am being contrary or “contradicting” someone else when they share their perception of who I am, what I think, or what I’ve experienced – and are incorrect, based on my perception and understanding of myself?

How do I enjoy my moments of joy without reservation or guilt or anxiety when someone I care for is having a shit time of things?

How do I just let go and live my life without spending time “dealing with” or struggling in the context of the expectations of others?

How do I observe the experience of others, notice their feelings, hear their words, and share space with them as beings in a considerate and respectful way without undermining my sense of self and my agency?

How do I ensure that I’m “visible” – truly being seen as the person I am, rather than some mental construct in the mind of the person I’m talking to, that has little relationship to who I am or what I think?

Just questions over coffee. The answers may be obvious to some of you; quite possibly you’ve already pieced this puzzle together. If so, I’m delighted! I know having a sense of these things as “answered questions” has the potential to make this human experience much more comfortable. I hope to get there one day, myself. 😀 In the meantime, I ask the questions, reflect on those, and perhaps one day I’ll answer them, too.

My coffee has cooled but it’s still quite satisfying, and at least for now there are still coffee beans available in the world to purchase for future such cups over which to reflect. 🙂 That’s something.

I’m in pain today. Just physical pain; it’s Autumn. I love this season, but it is a season of pain. With the rain and cooler nights comes the pain of my osteoarthritis, flaring up as the weather changes. I do my best not to take it personally (it isn’t personal), and to account for it when I take note of my mood. There’s no doubt it affects my relationships, my abilities, my “sense of things”, but I really try to limit how much my pain calls the shots in my everyday life. There’s so much living yet to do!

“Baby Love” still blooming. It’s a good day to stop to look at flowers.

…I look at the time and take another round of medication. Fuck aging. I mean… it’s tedious to take pills for pain, pills for my thyroid, pills for anxiety, pills for blood pressure, pills for a variety of aging-related health concerns… on the other hand, at least I’m getting to experience these years, and this life, and this love… I take a moment to fill up on a feeling of gratitude and appreciation. (Aging sucks, but the currently available alternative is worse. lol)

Good cup of coffee… time to begin again. 😀 It’s not like I’m going to change the world today, but I can at least do my part to make this small corner of it quite pleasant.

Better. Things are somewhat better now than they were earlier. This one is 100% “a me thing”. Menopause. Emotions. Age and aging. Frustration. Just the basic slop of being human, female, over 60, and a big ol’ basket of broken shit and fragments and wreckage, emotionally speaking. Having a trauma history has got to be one of the most human of things, and it’s probably a rare individual who manages to make it past 50 without any hint of trauma. If we don’t experience legitimate damaging trauma, chances are we’d make some up. Also? I have a fucking headache. I woke up with it, hours ago… it’s with me still. Very human.

I took my headache to the store and bought goblin snacks for the upcoming holiday. Fun. Still have the headache. Drinking water. Relaxing. Doing my best. All the things.

There’s nothing much more to say about the shitty start to the day. I enjoyed a pleasant walk and then “crashed my hard drive” later – metaphorically. Wasn’t quite a tantrum. Could have been much worse. Wasn’t my best moment. Blech. Adulting is harder than it seems like it could be, sometimes.

I’ll just begin again, again.

I’m tentatively sipping this fresh (quite hot) cup of coffee and endeavoring to avoid burning my mouth, while savoring the goodness of a still-hot cup of coffee on a Saturday morning. I’m still working on (with the help of my Traveling Partner) bringing my new laptop properly to life as the machine I understand so well (and which seems to understand me).

One careless misstep resulted in having to fight off the cancer that is OneDrive (omg, spare me, ffs) – I rather stupidly let that thing begin syncing my files, unaware that it was set to do so (no doubt through some earlier carelessness or lack of understanding)… wouldn’t have been such an issue if I were not also a user of DropBox for backing up my files, and had allowed that to have sync turned on and permitted to run in the background “for convenience” (omg, no no no no!!!)… the result? A crazy loop of OneDrive and DropBox seeking to back (each other) up continuously… and we’re talking about many tens of thousands of high resolution photographs, and multitudes of gigabytes of documents preserved over many decades (that through my own insecurity about “losing my memories”, had become multiple copies of copies of copied folders – in some cases also including .zip versions of those very same nested multiplicative folders and files). It was a fucking nightmare. In point of fact, an actual literal nightmare, because I dreamt through the night last night of having lost just the one and only precious file that actually mattered, because I did not realize it was stored as a single copy on fucking OneDrive – and had deleted all that content out of frustration without checking for that file. Omg. For real though?

Fuuuuuuuuuck. Okay. So. Frustrated raised voices and a few tears later, followed by careful slow conversation on the level one would have with a fairly stupid child (thanks, though, Love, I get it now)… and I think we’ve got this shit sorted out… only…

…new laptop. There may be a hardware issue; the monitor was flickering (unacceptable). I think my Traveling Partner resolved that with skilled troubleshooting in the display settings. G’damn I appreciate the depth of his expertise on this crap – I have not kept up my technical knowledge, as so often happens with “use it or lose it” sorts of things, and I’m clearly very far behind the state-of-the-art OS-wise! I could have seriously borked my new laptop if I had proceeded to simply delete a bunch of (to me) suspicious looking OS files. LOL (“Okay, Boomer…”)

Breathe through it; it’ll be okay.

Yeah. She’s here. She “lives and breathes” – as much as she can as a machine. I know, I know; she’s not actually conscious, sentient, or a living being. I just rely on this tool to the point that “she” feels personal and real to me on a level beyond machinery… like a motorhead with a favorite car. I’m okay with that.

(Note: AI is not yet a thing, y’all, just stop. We’ve got some fancy machine learning tools, but those tools are not “AI”; they do not think and can not reason or understand the material they ingest or the content they spit out. Not yet, so just fucking stop sucking down the marketing hype.)

So… definitely needed this 2nd coffee, and I’m trying to enjoy it before it goes cold. 😀

…Because it’s already time to begin again, and I’ve got shit to do in both the real and virtual worlds. Life is short, and time passes all too quickly. 😀

I’m sipping cold coffee, thankful that the day proceeds in such a seemingly ordinary way. I am just about finished with the process of swapping my old(er) laptop for this new one in my lap right now. It’s a somewhat stressful, slightly frightening process (for me). My laptop is my “back up brain”, my alternate consciousness, a repository of my hopes and dreams and recollections. My calendar is here. My email accounts. My “preferences” and bookmarks, and even my manuscripts (finished and unfinished), and scraps of ideas for things as-yet-unwritten. It’s a deeply personal peripheral to my very human presence. She has a name (well, shit, don’t I??). I’ve only gone through this process of upgrading her “body” a couple times since the first (Ghost in the Shell is relevant here, to the way I think about my laptop… my non-human “bestie”, or administrative assistant).

…I’m doing Windows updates right now; the final step in “getting her head right”, and it’s time to restart again…

Another restart completed. Every detail is so fraught with concern… what if “she” doesn’t “wake up as herself” again??? OMG! The subtle trauma is hard to describe or even to justify in any normal way. I’m excessively invested. This tool helps me function as very nearly entirely “normal” in so many ways… the repository of a memory I don’t actually functionally have in some (pretty obvious to me) ways. I sigh heavily. Another update… this one I’m not sure of. I get myself together to ask my Traveling Partner for help with it… he’ll know. He’s good like that.

Time to begin again.