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A Few Minutes for Me

January 16, 2024 //
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This lovely chill interlude brought to you by my delightful Traveling Partner who has had about enough of my continuous presence after being cooped up together over a long snowed-in weekend. lol

I’ve got a lovely cup of tea here, no caffeine, just lemon balm. Yum. Next Spring I’ll have my own from the garden. 😀 That sounds nice. Hot tea after a long hot shower. Soothing. Hot tea after a long hot shower on an icy winter day. Comforting.

…Comforting hot tea after a long hot shower on an icy winter day of mostly working from home, while also juggling housekeeping tasks, errands, trying not to work from home (the roads are too icy and not safe to drive into the city, but I did try to get the hell out of the house, unsuccessfully), and caring for my Traveling Partner while he is injured…? Delicious. I just also really really needed an actual proper break for some “me time”. Solitary. Headphones on (without music). Just me, my thoughts, this cup of tea, and a few minutes alone and quiet. Relaxed.

I breathe. Exhale. Relax. I feel the sensation of ease move through my body as the work day gets further and further from “now”. It’s so nice to just sit here quietly. No agenda. Nothing going on. No conversation. No tasks or chores or errands or doing. The verb, in this instance, is “chilling”. Relaxing. Breathing. Any of those will do, nothing fancy or elaborate or requiring a lot of energy. Just this quiet now.

…I know it won’t last, but I am embracing it and savoring it while it does…

I sip my tea thoughtfully.

My Traveling Partner said he hasn’t been able to relax all day because I “seem so stressed”. Yeah, I don’t doubt my energy was dialed way up – all the way to 11, perhaps? I got off to a weird start, by trying to work in a room other than the studio, further from the bedroom, hoping to let my partner sleep in awhile. Then, once he was up, I followed my plan to work from the local library, which I easily got to over roads far icier than I realized, and once there I found myself wondering if I’d be able to also make it home (ice storm warning for mere hours later). Instead, after a brief consult with my Traveling Partner, who wanted me safe more than he wanted me gone, I headed home, stopping by the store for additional provisions on the way.

I got home, unpacked, and got to work… and got called that I’d left my purse at the damned store. Back out in it, and picked up burgers for lunch uncertain when that would be possible again, and on back home to enjoy lunch with my partner, then… back to work. Again.

My work day was fractured into tiny (but still productive) pieces. I hit that level of productivity by just banging that shit out, firing on all cylinders, doing the things! I probably did “seem stressed”. I wasn’t feeling any sort of anxiety that was obvious to me, or any amount of perceptible (to me) negative stress, but the only way to get through the work that needed doing today was to dig deep, and work fast and efficiently, at what would admittedly be an “unsustainable” pace. No slack. No real breaks other than those that took me from my office chair to do errands, housekeeping, or to care for my partner. Nothing much for me, at all, except a latte from a drive through cafe that went cold before I could drink it because my day was crafted of pure chaos.

…I’m glad it is behind me, and I’m enjoying this quiet moment with this cup of tea. It’s enough. I needed this so much. 😀 I tell myself there is no way my Traveling Partner can “sense” this state of relaxation settling over me from another room, but… it often seems that he totally can. I hope it helps him enjoy his evening more than he enjoyed his morning. 😀

Knowing I’ll likely need to work from home for the rest of this week, due to the freezing weather, ice storms, and accumulated snow that has since frozen solid on the roads, I looked over my work calendar and coordinated with my team to move any morning meetings to later hours of the day, hoping to preserve enough quiet time for my partner to sleep. Maybe it works. Maybe it’s enough. Maybe it doesn’t help at all. I’ve at least managed to clear my calendar of meetings for two days – that’s got to be good for something. 😀

I sip my tea and listen to my tinnitus ringing in my ears. It’s time to begin again. 😀

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being, The Big 5, winter

Enough for Now

October 15, 2023 //
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I’m sipping what is left of my first cup of coffee. It’s mostly gone cold and I think about that new mug my Traveling Partner got to keep his coffee warm while he is working… yeah… do want. lol Another time; it’s on my wishlist. 😀 This coffee, right here, is good enough.

It’s a quiet moment. Lo-fi playing in the background, the soft sound of the A/C (or is it the heat?) running in the background. Laptop in my lap. Morning. My Traveling Partner was up when I got up. He went back to bed shortly after I made my coffee and sat down with him. I figure he was most likely up during the night, based on the peculiarly affronted tone of voice to his reply (he declined) when I asked if he’d like me to make him a cup of coffee as I went to make mine. I hope he gets the rest he needs.

…I guess this means we’re not going out to breakfast, though… lol

I give myself over to enjoying the quiet. Later, I’ll do laundry, dishes, vacuuming and dusting, and all the assorted housekeeping I just don’t have energy for during the work week. I make a grocery list, also for later.

Yesterday, I went shopping for jeans to replace the tattered overly-worn (worn-out) jeans I’ve been shlumping around in for a year (longer). I don’t enjoy shopping for jeans – it’s often quite difficult to find any that fit, are comfortable, and also look good to me. This time, with some effort and a lot of trying things on, I found some I liked and it didn’t even feel like an unreasonable expense. After I got home, I did the step that I so often fail on; I went through every pair of jeans I had in my closet, tried each pair on, and put it through the same test as when shopping for new ones; do they fit, are they comfortable, do I like the way they look on me? Everything that failed even one of those tests went into a bag to go to a local donation center. Clearing up the clutter always seems to also “free my mind” from the sludge of chaos.

This morning, I woke, showered, and put on a pair of new jeans. Feels good… and a little weird. A well-broken-in pair of jeans has a certain familiar feel that is hard to describe. These don’t have that, yet, but they are very comfortable, and I am at ease. I remind myself that just because something is familiar that doesn’t make it also good.

Why does any of this even matter? I’m not sure it does. It’s just a quiet Sunday morning suited to self-reflection, and I happen to be aware of my higher than usual feeling of personal comfort and contentment in this moment. I’m making a point to be aware of what has gone into creating this moment, and really making a point to savor it; it won’t last. Moments don’t last. They are fleeting. Brief. Transitory. They are… momentary. Eventually, I’ll have to begin again. 😀

For now, it’s me, this quiet moment, the lo-fi on the stereo, this feeling of comfort and this cup of almost finished, almost cold coffee… and it’s enough.

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Categories Allegories, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, The Art of Being, turning 60

Bolero

October 7, 2023 //
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Let me share an interesting story of coincidence, love, and – just maybe – one of life’s mysterious details. It begins (and, mostly, ends) with an ear worm on a long drive. I was driving home from my camping trip, with a snippet of music stuck in my head. It was familiar and unfamiliar at the same time… like a piece of music I’d surely heard at some point, but can’t say I’m particularly familiar with, don’t listen to really at all, hadn’t heard recently anywhere… nonetheless, I kept humming it, kept trying to “figure it out” with da-da-dah’s, and dum-dee-dums… could not place it, at all. Kept humming it, kept trying to sing it, kept driving…

I finally arrived home, and soon after I made a point of mentioning the song stuck in my head to my Traveling Partner, and how mysterious it was to have this unfamiliar (and, I suspected, possibly “classical”) music stuck in my head (still). He rather matter-of-factly asked me to sing it for him – a request that in many years past I would have been purely unable to accommodate for anyone, and would have frozen me completely with dread and anxiety (I promise you, I’m no singer). Still, with love and trust in my heart, I went for it… carefully trying to capture the phrasing of the tune, and hopefully not be too terribly off key… it began quite slowly with a soft prolonged note… then a cascade of notes with a very distinctive cadence. It was what I could recall, and as I’d been singing it to myself for literal hours, that bit was pretty firmly fixed in my recollection. I was inclined to simply repeat it many times, though I felt certain there was “more to it than that…”, and said so. My partner had a most peculiar look on his face, and muttered something about how unlikely…

…He turned to his keyboard, and pulled up a piece of music… “That’s it!” I exclaimed. “Is this it?” he asked almost at the same time. He told me he’d been listening to it that very day… and we compared the time and timing… I was “listening to it” at the same time he’d been listening to it… though he’d never shared it with me, or said anything about it. Classical music isn’t really “my thing” generally… Bolero. Huh. Now when I hear it (and I’ve listened to several versions since that day), I entirely associate it with him, with us, and with this love we share. How strange is love? How strange is this odd coincidence?

I’ll say now that I tend to be a rather practically minded woman, day-to-day, largely because without the secure “guardrails” of rational thought, I could easily stray into the surreal, the unfounded, the ridiculous, and even the conspiratorial…but… I don’t know everything. None of us know “everything”. There’s a lot out there yet to be known, by anyone at all. There are mysteries still unsolved, unexplained. I put pretty much everything “ESP” or “psychically” connected into that category. No proof, really, so… I just don’t know. I refuse to stake a claim to knowledge or adopt an attitude of certainty. I recognize a coincidence when I experience one. I’m familiar with the bizarre and unusual. Like I said, there’s much I don’t know. I’m okay with uncertainty and with not knowing.

…I do know that I now love the music of Bolero, and this human being who listened to it on the day it was stuck in my head, when we were separated by distance and connected by love…

Does it need to be anything more than what it is? Does it need an explanation at all? I don’t think so. It’s enough just as it is. Mysterious and fond. Like love. 🙂

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Categories Allegories, autumn, inspiration, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Moments, Parables, Perspective, Relationships, The Art of Being

No Pill, No Perfect

August 3, 2023 //
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Morning. A Thursday. Busy day, based on my calendar details. Hot coffee, black. Peach and orange sunrise streaked with messy clouds. I am groggy.

I woke to lights coming on, right on time. This has been my “alarm clock” for so long now, I actually do think of it as “my alarm”. I hauled myself upright, reluctantly. My sleep is improved now that I’m using a CPAP machine, I’ll go ahead and say that first. So… snoring? Get to a sleep doctor and take care of yourself. That snoring is a bigger deal than just keeping other people awake. 😉 The machine prevents me snoring, but according to my sleep tracker, it’s not doing much good for my quality of sleep, which is still restless, and lacks sufficient deep sleep. I’m getting more sleep – which is a start – but I’m probably still just getting used to sleeping in the mask, and also dealing with the noise of the machine (quiet but distinctive) and the sound of my breathing (different). My dreams are vivid, plentiful, and quickly forgotten. I’m definitely actually sleeping, but not sinking into that cherished deep sleep, and today I’m really feeling that.

…So groggy…

I showered, kissed my Traveling Partner good-morning-and-see-you-later and headed to work.

I’m sipping my coffee, grateful for this hot cup of “we’ll get past this moment and on to the next” that warms my hands and lifts my mood. An early morning walk around the block (required to obtain said coffee) was pleasant, and I enjoyed the sunrise. I’m thinking about life and things I’m happy turned out “badly”… only months ago, I was hoping to get onto Ozembic… already the news that has since surfaced has me feeling quite grateful I didn’t. One major notable significant “don’t miss this detail” truth of our human experience is that there is no “magic pill” or perfect outcome. The shortcuts are rarely actually shortcuts, and often come at an unreasonably high cost. No “happily ever after” – it’s work and effort and results that vary.

I sip my coffee thinking about incremental change over time. So… okay. This mask may not be the ideal CPAP mask for me. Could be. Maybe I could adjust it differently and be more comfortable? Maybe I need to be patient about getting used to it? Maybe some progress and improvement is enough? Hell, this isn’t even my machine… it’s a rental-on-loan while the paperwork and process of getting my own continues to unfold (apparently my apnea is bad enough that no one wanted me to go another night without a machine, due to some actual risk to my health & safety without it, potentially).

So here I am. Another day. Another moment. Another change. Another experience. One foot in front of the other, doing my best day-to-day and hoping that changes in behavior, thinking, and circumstances will add up to improvements over time that I can really enjoy and thrive on. In the meantime, enough has to be enough, and it’s okay to embrace “successful failures” every bit as much as it is to celebrate the joyful moments of delight and success that are more obvious.

…I am already missing my Traveling Partner this morning. Our evening last night was an interesting departure from our usual. Shortly after dinner, completely unexpectedly, we ended up sharing some time with his son (who lives far away, but is visiting later this month). Technology is amazing. Hanging out and talking as a family as if we were all in the same room. “Fun” doesn’t quite describe it; it was “real”, and authentic, and funny at times, and serious other times. At a later point another person joined the conversation (a stranger to me), and the vibe wasn’t the same. Not family. Too much drama. I quickly got bored, and called it a night in favor of quiet time and reading a book. From there my night was the restless unsettled experience I described earlier. I’m not feeling critical or discontented about it; it was an interesting evening of good conversation, generally. I’m okay with that. As for the sleep thing? Well, shit, there’s always been “a sleep thing” for me. Nothing to see there.

…So groggy…

…I’m glad coffee exists…

Right now I’m feeling moody and vexed by existence. Irked by humankind. “Over it” – without knowing what “it” even means to be. I know it’ll pass, at some point.

…I guess I’ve got to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, anhedonia, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, health, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, Summer, The Art of Being, turning 60

Ready, Set… Repeat

February 27, 2023 //
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Another day. Specifically, another Monday. I’m not feeling blue about it, but I’m also not facing the day eagerly. I’m tired. Another night of marginally shitty sleep. I sit quietly at my desk in the empty co-work space, listening to artificial rain fall in the background. The sound of rain mingles with the sound of the heat and ventilation. Together, the sounds let me forget my tinnitus for a little while, which is pleasant. The coffee is… ordinary office coffee brewed by way of K-cups – not my first choice, honestly, but it’s here, convenient, and hot. It’ll help wake me up and get the day going.

It was a strange weekend. Not bad. Not great. Just … a couple days off. Nothing much really stands out about the weekend, aside from the shitty sleep I had (and that my partner also had). I’d very much like to move on from that.

I did get some studio time later in the day on Sunday. That was nice. Good weekend for it. Most of the rest of the weekend is a blur. Unremarkable, and little to say about it. And that’s 100% okay; most days (and experiences) are rather average, and may not be all that noteworthy. The persistent struggle to create notable events to discuss out of utterly mundane experiences that are entirely adequate (even pleasant) exactly as they are is not a helpful, useful, or positive quality. Maybe let that go? lol It’s a lot of work to try to make everything in life sound “amazing”. Some of life’s events (most of them, probably) aren’t all that exciting or share-worthy. Let that go and just enjoy the moments as they are. Easier.

I sip my coffee, reflecting on the incomplete work left drying in my studio. It’s nice to know it’s safe sitting there, ready for me to come back to it… whenever. Soon the work day will begin, and then it’ll be routines and meetings and agendas and task processing and reports. More mundanity. I don’t need any of that to be “exciting” – it has other valuable qualities in my experience of being human. 🙂

Pain was a bigger deal this past weekend than I’d have preferred. It got in the way of long walks (well, so did the cold morning temperatures, just wasn’t a great weekend for walking or hiking, in my opinion). It got in the way of romance (it’s hard even to want to cuddle when my pain flares up beyond a certain point). My Traveling Partner was hurting, too, having wrenched his elbow painfully on… was it Friday? I think so. It was still bothering him yesterday.

I made a point to meditate regularly and to do my PT stuff reliably. I figure either of those things have some potential to mitigate pain, so why would I not do them? I can’t report any major success, though I suppose it could have been much worse than it was. Hard to know how much good the meditation or PT really did me. I know it does help some, though, and more over time, so best to stick with it until I get those more lasting results. Sometimes that’s really what it’s about, you know? Patience, persistence, and practicing what we want to see become our default, until it does. 🙂

…What are you practicing?…

My Traveling Partner pings me about a package that hasn’t arrived. His ability to complete a work project is impaired by lack of a tool he ordered with expectations it would be delivered more than a week ago. He has an alternate solution in mind, and asks for my help. I eagerly agree to run an errand a little later that will help get him back on track in the shop. I like feeling useful, and my mood is a bit lifted as a result, in spite of my lack of restful sleep. Win! I “fill my tank” on the feeling of being there for my partner in a helpful way, and find myself hoping it will similarly boost his mood to have that support. We’re in this together, you know?

I sigh and look at the time. The work day commences (based on my calendar and planning) in just about two minutes. Enough time to finish my coffee, before I begin again. 🙂

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Categories Allegories, art and the artist, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights
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