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Breathe

September 25, 2019 //
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A noise woke me…or was it a light…? Either way, I woke a bit early. I crept quietly through my routine, “so as not to wake anyone else”. Then I ground coffee. There’s no silencing the burr grinder, and I’m not surprised when I hear a voice in the darkness softly say “there was already coffee ground”. “Shit,” I reply to the unseen voice of my Traveling Partner. I get on with things, he, I hope, goes back to sleep. I’m definitely starting the morning with a failure; the literal point of being so quiet and careful in the morning is to avoiding waking my sleeping partner. lol

I sip my coffee and consider the nature of “failure”. What an emotionally loaded word that can be. I’ve already “moved on” from waking my partner, but it’s the sort of thing that could weigh me down all day with a lot of rethinking and rumination, and self-inflicted emotional bullshit and baggage of one sort or another. I’m content to shrug all that off, reminding myself how human I am, and how okay that is.

I’m groggy. This coffee doesn’t seem to be helping much. Hopefully the day doesn’t find me, later, dragging myself through the routine mundanities… I think I got enough rest. I sit quietly, sipping coffee, waiting for the earliest hint of daybreak that is often my reminder that it’s time… time to go, time to start work, time to begin again…

…There’s enough time for it, I know, enough time to begin again. 🙂 I take another sip of my coffee, and another breath. Failure? Common enough in life. Let it go. Breathe. Begin again. 😀

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being, The Big 5

Good Mornings and Good-Bye’s

September 10, 2019 //
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It was a fairly ordinary morning…other than the luggage. I kissed my sleeping Traveling Partner good-bye before I left the house, feeling rather peculiarly, and unexpectedly, reluctant to go. Nah, I’m not worried about the trip; it’s routine. Just work stuff. Things to do that are easier there than here.

…I got all the way to the office before I noticed I forgot to bring my lunch, a generous slice of a hearty, delicious homemade frittata I had made for dinner last night. I was looking forward to it, too; better the second day, it was just that kind of goodness. 😀 I laugh at myself and wonder what else I will forget? Hopefully not my laptop. LOL

It’s all work from this point out, until I return home late on Friday evening. I mean… I’m traveling for work. The hotel is just a place to sleep, really, and I’ve certainly got enough to do to fill all three days. lol I brought a book, of course. In fact, I brought a hard bound book, and my Kindle. I brought a bound journal for personal writing and self-reflection. I brought a notebook for work notes. I remembered chargers for devices, batteries for my vape, and a power brick. I remembered e-juice for vaping. I remembered socks, toothpaste, hair ties, and medication. So far, so good. I’ve got digital boarding passes, and my hotel reservation is saved to my phone. I feel… prepared. In fact, I feel prepared to the point that I’d probably be fine if I were stranded in any urban wilderness… less well prepared were I to suddenly drop into a proper wilderness-wilderness… you know, out in the wilderness. LOL Yeah… I left all the camping gear behind. 🙂

The tender, somewhat awkward, moment of conversation last night about “what if?” alerted me I am not all that well-prepared for certain other very adult circumstances. I need to update my will. I haven’t clearly and simply documented where things are, and what to do, in the event of my unexpected death…and… I gotta say, that strikes me now as fairly stupid of me. I’m 56. People die at 56 all the fucking time. I’d rather not leave behind someone dear to me to grieve while also desperately trying to figure out who to call about insurance, or where my will is located, or what utilities need to be changed over from my name to another, or… you know. Lots of details that I handle without a second thought these days, pleased to be so skillfully able to care for the day-to-day basics, reliably. It would be a dick move to fail to support my partnership with loving care and meticulous detail – since I know in advance that I’m mortal. So. There’s that to think about. 0_o

The day ahead seems… long. The plane ride will be a short one. Then… the strange solitude of a hotel room. Time for meditation, and a chance to get oriented in a new place. I don’t know what to expect… I’ll be close to the airport. Close to the beach. Close to the office. The map shows a crowded city, filled with human lives and human experiences, crowded with people, with buildings, with circumstances. I’m not interested in much of any of that. I’ll enjoy the chance to connect with some cherished colleagues with whom I am friendly; we don’t see each other “irl” very often. I’ll get some work done for which I have considerable enthusiasm – and that’s really the point of going.

…I already miss my Traveling Partner, and I haven’t even left town yet. LOL I know when he wakes, he’ll miss me, too. The days will creep or fly by – either way, the time will pass, and I’ll be happy to return home. Properly home. This shared place of ours that feels so good. Our partnership – and affection for each other – continues to deepen over time. Thinking about his smile, his rude jokes, his fun, and the warmth of his arms around me, I feel wrapped in love – and very fortunate.

My eye travels over my desk… what else am I forgetting… anything…? It’s time to begin again…

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Categories Brain Injury, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5, Uncategorized

The Damage Is Done

September 9, 2019 //
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For awhile now, I’ve just been sitting here, staring at my monitor. It’s not quite 3:30 a.m., now. My heart is still pounding, and my hands are trembling. There’s nothing actually wrong; I woke up triggered, around 2:50 a.m.,  and I’m fighting off both confusion (from being groggy) and panic. It’s not personal, and it’s unlikely that any detail of waking me into this state was intentional, at all. I’m awake, though, and sleep won’t return in the short time left before my alarm would go off, so… I’m beginning again, a bit early, is all.

“Purple Tiger” blooming on the deck. Life is filled with small delights.

…Just yesterday, I was relaxing and giving thought to how content I am, how lovely life is, how comfortable I feel in my own skin day-to-day, and how fortunate I am to have the healthy relationships that I do. The contrast with my internal state this morning is a useful reminder that emotional wellness is built over time, and that taking it for granted is not an ideal approach to maintaining it. The phrase “the damage is done” seems fitting here. I can heal a lot of chaos and damage, over time, and doing so is a pretty extraordinary quality of life improvement, in general. What I can’t do is change what I’ve been through, or eliminate the trauma in my history, and even now, sometimes it “comes back to me” in a problematic way. I still have disturbed sleep. I still have some uncomfortable moments. I still don’t “bounce back” as easily from some emotional experiences as someone else might. “Much improved” still doesn’t mean “forever and always symptom free”.

Early hints of autumn approaching have turned up in the garden.

What a great weekend; in spite of both my partner and I being in considerable pain, we had a great time together. A local power outage ended our evening, last night. It didn’t seem necessary to stay up until power came back on. Rather unfortunately, I went to bed without really considering which lights had been on, when the power went out. I woke abruptly to bright light (when the power came back on?), confused, startled, and frightened. My Traveling Partner was up, apparently trying to make sense of whatever mess the bed linens were in, also awakened by the return of power, but at the time I was trapped in my confusion, and still startled, and I felt “trapped” in the room, and my panic started to build, quickly. I was on my way to a serious over-reaction, and chose simply to go ahead and get up, instead, hoping that pushing myself through regular morning routines would soothe me quickly, and help to calm my nerves. I was not clear on what time it actually was, in that moment.

I started coffee and dressed myself, still sort of bumbling around clumsily, not yet fully awake or entirely calmed, and doing my best to stay focused and present in this “now” moment. My heart was still hammering away in my chest, and I was feeling short of breath. My partner approached me, and asked “aren’t you coming back to bed?” I felt my jaw clench and un-clench, working to shape words that fit. I tried “the way I woke up… I won’t go back to sleep, now”. I felt self-conscious, and dreading that anything I said could “make things worse” (What things? More chaos and damage – that hell was a long time ago, in a very different relationship.) I did what I could to explain that I woke triggered without placing any blame; my PTSD isn’t something my Traveling Partner caused, and there is no circumstance under which he would trigger my symptoms deliberately. Nothing personal in any of it. I felt tears start. Neither of us reacted to that; we’re experienced with emotionality as a shitty byproduct of my chaos and damage. I turned toward my studio. He went back to bed.

One of the most horrible things about PTSD is how often there is a negative consequence to people who love us, who didn’t do the damage that made us who we are, but so often find themselves paying a pretty high price to love  us, anyway. Spectacularly unfair. I try to be considerate about that sort of thing, when I can hang on to the presence of mind it takes to do so. :-\

Meditation continues to be a key practice supporting my emotional wellness.

…It’s just two minutes shy of 4:00 a.m. now. I’m not shaking any more. My heart rate is back down to 62 bpm. My breathing feels relaxed. I feel calm. I could probably go back to sleep now, if I chose to… but the alarm would go off in 30 minutes, and I’d likely wake groggier and less well-rested feeling than I am now. I sip my coffee, and rub the sleep out of my eyes, and hope the day ahead is not an overly complicated one. I feel my anxiety surge in the background. Small things are likely to set me off today; it’ll need to be managed attentively, compassionately, and with a commitment to caring for myself skillfully. I breathe. Exhale. Relax. I set a couple reminders on my work calendar to take 10 minutes to meditate during the day. Each moment today may be a needed chance to begin again; that has to be okay with me, to really get this handled well. I feel my shoulders relax. “I’ve got this…” The reassurance swells from within myself, built on experience. That feels pretty good – solid, and reliable. Safe.

I give thought to my Traveling Partner, and hope that he has returned to a deep and untroubled sleep, and wakes well-rested. I finish my coffee, and prepare to face a new day. It’s a good time to begin again. 🙂

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Categories Anxiety, Brain Injury, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5

Change of Scene

September 2, 2019 //
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Sipping my coffee on Labor Day. I’m not in the office, and I have the day off; that’s nice. I take a few moments of time and consideration for the efforts of each subsequent wave of labor movements over human history that brought us here – to this place and time with 5 day (or fewer) work weeks, limited to 40 hours (in principle), with a minimum wage expectation (still, for some reason, a radical notion), regular weekends off, healthcare, bereavement pay and other benefits, and restrictions on who could be required to work, and at what age… wow. It was not always like this for working people. Powerful. There’s more work to be done, but today? Not the day to fight that fight. Today, we celebrate that fight. 😀

It hasn’t been quite so hot, and the cooler weather definitely limits the impact to our quality of life that the A/C is busted. It’s mostly fixed, and I expected it would be fully repaired yesterday afternoon. Apparently not a reasonable expectation, even after the repair person selected by the landlord assured me he just needed one more part, and would wrap things up between 1 pm and 2 pm; I never saw him again, yesterday. lol I am frustrated – but, and this is just real, I also think it is wholly shitty that he is spending much of his Labor Day weekend working. :-\ So, I feel inclined to be very patient about it, through the weekend, for sure.

Any time I feel subjectively “too hot”, I do have the option to change up the scenery. I can have a cooling cold(ish) shower. I can enjoy an Italian ice, or an icy cold beverage. I can run an errand in the car (it has A/C, and the A/C in the car works just fine) or go for a long drive. I can even, and this does work pretty well, dim the lighting in the apartment and “trick myself” into feeling cooler with a video of rain falling, or a snowy evening. All surprisingly effective, particularly if I don’t fight back with regular reminders of how hot I feel. LOL Thankfully, the weather has been cooler, more around 80 than above 90.

…I’m just saying; there is nearly always something I can do to improve an uncomfortable situation. This applies every bit as much to A/C failures as to relationships, jobs, working conditions, as well as a ridiculously wide variety of assorted miscellaneous other life experiences. 🙂 The answer to “what can I do about that?” is very rarely “nothing at all”.

It’s been a lovely weekend. I’ve gotten a few things done. I’ve enjoyed hours of entertainment with my Traveling Partner. This third day off feels “extra” in a wonderful way, although it is also that last day before I must return to work – I generally spend those more on preparing for the week ahead, and in service to hearth and home, than relaxing. Taking care of me does have some verbs involved. My desire to see a clean kitchen means I need to do the work to make it so. If I want clean clothes to wear, it’s a good day to do the laundry. Just the basic stuff, and plenty of time between tasks to chill with my partner, enjoying the day. It’s helpful that we are equals in this partnership; I often come home to an astonishing amount of housekeeping and care already handled. This week, the laundry is already sorted (and I didn’t have to do that), even started (and a bunch of stuff ready to fold or hang up). We work together to build the life we enjoy sharing. No slaves, no masters, no petty resentment, no servitude.

I listen to the sound of this snow storm playing in the background. I sip my coffee and grin at the subjective sensation of cold toes on a chilly morning. (It’s not actually cold this morning.) I think ahead to dinner, later, and wonder if it is too late (being Labor Day) to get a thick bone-in rib-eye to throw on the grill tonight… and laugh at my terrible planning; I was just at the store, literally at the butcher counter, yesterday. It’s not even necessary to go out; there is plenty to choose from here, already. lol My restless monkey mind wants to seek, to travel, to explore, to experience – and my ankle objects to the effort and distance, in advance. (It’s been a limiting concern all weekend.) I remind myself gently, that if the ankle were up to it, I’d just hit the trail this morning and walk 3 or 4 miles, enjoying the morning birdsong and breezes.

…This morning, sufficiency is enough. 😉 Tomorrow is soon enough to begin again. 😀

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Parables, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5

A Beautiful Morning

August 31, 2019 //
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I woke with the sunrise. It’s lovely and still cool, this morning. My coffee is hot, and I am appreciative of the good quality of the coffee beans I had selected. The morning is still quiet. The day unscripted. There are a couple things I’d like to get done (fold laundry, grocery shop, get the car washed – routine weekend sorts of things). There is no particular “excitement” in this moment, and I’m okay with that. Contentment is generally not built on moments of excitement so much as moments of well-handled ordinary routine events.

I sip my coffee, smile to myself, and silently remark “enough really is enough”, and let the morning slowly unfold.

I hear the coffee grinder, in the kitchen. My Traveling Partner is awake, too. I am so ridiculously in love with this singular human being. It’s hard to describe easily. 🙂 I’m content with the feelings; there’s no reason to explain them (or even to try). Love is enough.

I think about a friend who blurted out, in quite a genuine and spontaneous way, that he loves me. It was beautiful, heartfelt, and sincere. It was unexpected in the office, and I found myself feeling more awkward than I otherwise might – not because the sentiment was unwelcome (it was not at all unwelcome!), it was more a weird little voice from within my own heart saying “did you bring enough for everyone?” – and I wasn’t sure I had. lol I find myself thinking I need to “make it right” with my friend. Platonic love is something we all very much need more of. 😀

…I’m still not entirely awake. Groggy from deep sleep and strange dreams, I keep drinking this coffee, and already I am thinking ahead to the next cup. “What shall I do with the day….?” The thought crosses my mind absent any awareness that I already asked – and answered – this question for myself. It’s going to be that day, is it? LOL

My injured shoulder aches more this morning than my bad ankle. Yesterday, and the day before, it was the other way round. The arthritis in my spine leaves me alone, for now. The chill of autumn will return soon enough, and change things up again. Almost everyone I know is in some amount of pain, much of the time. Is that peculiar? It certainly provides some perspective. I am eager to fully return to strength training, again; I feel like I’d just started to make real progress, when I got hurt. Perhaps that is an observation colored by the experience of getting hurt, itself, and the pain that has followed. I breathe, exhale, relax, and let it go. 🙂

Funny the way planning works… I value having a plan. I consider things in detail, when I make plans. Often my plans don’t predict real life in any noteworthy way; real life has its own plan. lol My equinox camping trip on the coast may need to be canceled; the ankle, the shoulder, and the time taken traveling for work the week before I’ve planned to go camping, have me rethinking my plans. I’d miss a lot of time with my partner.

We have this long weekend here, though. 3 days together to relax, and enjoy “us”. It’s enough. I glance at the clock… and smile. It doesn’t really matter what time it is. Today is enough time. 🙂

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Categories Brain Injury, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, Love, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Summer, The Art of Being
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