Archives for posts with tag: forgiveness

We’re all human in this thing. Generally doing our best, or some version of that. Sometimes failing (sometimes badly). There are no “do overs”, from the perspective of the crumpled paper lesson, so the stakes are pretty high in any valued relationship.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

On the other hand, people aren’t made from paper and we’re resilient and capable of healing and growing…

Yesterday I was in pain when I woke and it worsened as the day progressed. Aside from one choice win, early in the day, everything seemed calculated to vex me, frustrate me, or slow me down. Timing ended up being critical, forcing me onto a high risk route in dense traffic. I made it to my last appointment gritting my teeth with barely managed stress, more than a little aggravated, white knuckling the steering wheel as I pulled into the parking lot.

… I hadn’t eaten since a protein bar around 10:00 am, and I didn’t have “extra” (or stronger) pain relief with me. I faced repeated frustrations and had to carefully and very strictly manage my temper all day. I got home quite late, drenched in sweat, head pounding, impaired mobility, and omg so grateful to be home! These details are important context for what comes later. My Traveling Partner had a similarly difficult day, and expressed similar gratitude that the day was over and that he had been eagerly waiting for me.

…Then I fucked that all up, completely…

My beloved asked me a question, the scope of which I misunderstood. I sat down to give him an answer, and when he expressed his irritation that I had missed his point, low blood sugar and bad temper finally bested me and I exploded. Raised my voice (on this whole utterly unacceptable level). Door slamming. Saying terrible mean things. He returned that anger with his own. More yelling. More angry words. I started to storm off – my go-to argument-ending move once my PTSD is in the driver’s seat (I managed, with effort, to fight off the need to flee). Within the hour, I was hysterical with insane terror and rage, and not myself. (G’damn, I fucking hope that’s not myself!) Only…it also is very much myself, and I am responsible and accountable for the consequences of my actions, in spite of pain, low blood sugar, PTSD, and whatever else.

… I could have chosen differently…

That’s not to say I’d have deliberately chosen that mess with my eyes open and my wits about me, nonetheless, my choices were assuredly involved. “We become what we practice” becomes a terrifying reminder that failing to manage strong emotions properly, and failing to perform basic self care can too easily become “who I am” – a lesson I learned awhile ago, but find myself facing cruel reminders, too often. (What is “too often”? Honestly, in this case, ever; I love my partner too much to see him faced with my worst behavior.)

Sitting through a bit of rain.

We are not perfect people, my Traveling Partner and I. We’re human. As human as anyone else. We live and love, and fail and fuck up, and learn – and ideally get back to the living and loving on this strange journey. There’s no one else I want to spend it with.

…When I woke this was all still at the forefront of my consciousness. I dressed and headed out. The air smelled of rain. I filled the gas tank on my way, and noticed that the pavement appeared damp. As I left town, a soft mist became a steady rain. It makes more sense why we were both in so much pain yesterday. Nothing about that excuses the behavior, it’s just a footnote to an incredibly difficult day.

Bad days happen. People behave badly sometimes, and reduce themselves to their worst behavior. We find ourselves standing knee deep in our chaos and damage wondering how we got there and lashing out at any unfortunate soul nearby. Fuck, this shit is hard sometimes.

Storms pass.

The rain stops, reminding me “this too will pass”, and the minutes of our mortal lives are precious and few. It matters to be willing to admit our mistakes, and to make amends and repair damage with the same “enthusiasm” with which we lost our temper.

I adore my Traveling Partner with my whole heart, and mingling love and madness has notoriously been… problematic. I sigh to myself at the halfway point of my walk. There’s a full moon over head. G’damn we’re hard on each other sometimes. A young squirrel approaches me hesitantly. I absent mindedly pull the handful of acorns I’d gathered as I walked, and gently toss them a short distance away for the squirrel.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. Apologies don’t always feel like enough, and really, an apology is only words. Really making amends is about changing behavior. Difficult, but not impossible. Another breath. I consider each small error that snowballed. I exhale. I consider what I could do to reliably achieve better outcomes and more agreeably demonstrate my love and abiding affection for my Traveling Partner, even in difficult moments. Another breath, another thought. I dissect the failures one by one without doing myself personal harm. Self-flagellation isn’t necessary (or useful), growth and change are.

An oak savannah under a stormy sky.

A new day dawns on the oak savannah. I sit with my thoughts watching squirrels play. I contemplate being and becoming, and making things right with the human being most dear to me. G’damn loving me must be fucking hard sometimes. I watch the storm clouds overhead begin to break into pieces and disperse. There’s a lot yet to contemplate, and to learn from. I sigh to myself; I’d very much like to paint (it serves to “unclutter my soul”).

…moments and choices…

I get to my feet to begin again.

I was up too early. It is another gray day. I’m tired, and I’ve got a headache I would describe as “my third eye hurting”. I’m tired. I walk the loop around the vineyard, and I’m back at the car before dawn.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

So… I nap in the car awhile and wake to heavy gray clouds and a stormy forboding sky.

Say hello to a new day.

I sit up, groggy and a little dizzy, surprised to have actually slept. I take my morning medications with a swallow of cold black coffee left over from yesterday. I yawn and stretch. The morning seems unremarkable. I’m fine with that. Another day.

…I’m grateful… but I’m also thinking about coffee 😆

It is a payday. Later I’ll do all of the budget stuff. Pay bills. Buy groceries. Ordinary mundane activities. Routine. Unexciting. I’m fine with that, too.

I sit listening to my tinnitus and the HVAC on the roof of a nearby building. Robins hop about, singing their cheerful song. I take time for meditation. I eye the gray clouds overhead. Looks like it might rain, later.

I sigh to myself. I really want coffee. I stretch and yawn, and decide on a course of action. I click my seatbelt into place, and get started on this new day. It’s as good a beginning as any.

I’m sitting on a bench over looking the Pacific ocean. It’s a bit after sunrise, but the sun hasn’t yet cleared the hilltops to the east. The sky is a pearly pink and a delicate pastel gradient blends it into the blue morning sky overhead.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

Wind, waves, and a sunrise.

I listen to the gulls and sip my coffee. I’m in no hurry. It’s Sunday and I’ve got a couple relaxed days of painting ahead of me. I breathe, exhale, and relax. Each time work surfaces in my thoughts, I make a point of letting it go. Now is not the time.

I reflect on the crazy amount of pressure at work lately. I have to admit, a lot of that pressure is internal, and self-imposed. I reflect on the many times my Traveling Partner has cautioned me to slow down when I’m panicking over work stress, and how often he has helpfully pointed out that I’m the one putting myself through all that. Sometimes it’s hard to accept that I cause so much of my stress myself.

…He hasn’t been wrong about that; most of the pressure I’m under is reliably self-imposed (and unnecessary, and not helpful)…

Even this trip to the coast is intended, at least in part, to slow me down a bit and give me needed perspective. I reflect on that as I listen to the waves of the receding tide. I sigh to myself, grateful to have the opportunity to step back from work for a couple days. Grateful for a partner who supports and respects that need, even suggesting that I take the time.

I reach out to wish him good morning and to express concern about the heat and his wellness and to be encouraging in some way. My words are poorly chosen and don’t reflect awareness of what he wants and needs from me in the way of supporting and encouraging him. I get an unexpected blistering reprimand; he needs something different from me, and I feel like a jerk for the unhelpful outreach and poor timing. Shit. Failure sucks. I screenshot some of the messages to consider later (otherwise they may get lost in later conversation), and to share with my therapist for additional guidance.

I wonder what small birds practice?

I sit with my thoughts, watching the sea and gazing out at the western horizon. I missed my morning hike planned for Basket Slough this morning. I had hoped to watch the sunrise from there, rather than in my rearview mirror, but I had gotten the route confused for another. Basket Slough is in an altogether different direction (south) than the one I traveled this morning (west). I’ll hike the beach instead. There are miles of beach here, and about seven miles or so are walkable at low tide.

I sigh quietly, thinking about what matters most, what it takes to be (and become) the person I most want to be, and contemplating my obvious shortcomings in a way that is self-compassionate, kind, and useful. It’s a more difficult practice than the words imply. It’s easier to “drink the poison” and lose the useful details in the message, sometimes. The resulting festival of self-pity, guilt, shame, and emotional self flagellation may seem cathartic in the moment, but doing so would be mostly pretty poisonous, too. Better to lift myself out of the muck and sever the doom spiral neatly before it pulls me down. I can accept with sincere contrition and regret that I’m capable of errors in thinking, poor decision making, and poorly chosen words at precisely the wrong moment. Feels like a lot to work on. It’s a very human experience.

… Brain damage sucks, but there are useful workarounds for many of my specific challenges, they only require constant practice, and unlimited patience! 😆

I watch the parking lot here fill with folks in boots suited to mud, with buckets and shovels, heading down to the beach to dig for shellfish. This is a popular area for that. They are purposeful and well equipped for their task. G’damn I sure wish I felt similarly right about now. I definitely don’t. As with the crushing pressure of work, I suspect the feeling is illusory, and largely crafted within, built on my feelings of insecurity and doubt. Again, very human. This shit isn’t easy, or obvious, or in any way effortless – but it is possible to grow and change and improve over time.

I think about love, and notice that the blue hue of my glittery fingernails matches the sky. I listen to the wind whisper to me about practice and persistence, and learning from mistakes. I can’t know what the future holds – but I don’t have to. I can exist in this moment here, now. I’ll be busy enough with that, there is no need to become anchored to past regrets or future worries. “Now” has plenty with which to hold my attention.

I finish my coffee and grab my cane. It’s a beautiful morning, and it’s time to begin again.

Where does this path lead? The journey is the destination. Am I on the right path?

Enjoy the moment.

Stormy but mild, the weather is what it is.

Yesterday was lovely. Oh, not without a brief moment that was less than ideally harmonious, but we are human primates after all, the emphasis being on “primates”. Sometimes communication is more difficult than we’d like it to be, and in any household that includes me, this is complicated by both PTSD and brain damage. Still, generally speaking it was a lovely day spent in my Traveling Partner’s good company, and the rare moment of irritation or discord resulted in a better connection and clearer understanding of each other. Useful.

I make it a practice to focus on the positive, to reframe conflict in terms that allow me to grow and become more the person I most want to be over time, and as a means of allowing me to appreciate each finite mortal moment with my beloved. We’re both quite human. There’s no doubt we love each other deeply, and it truly matters to both of us to to heal, to support each other, and to move on from moments of conflict. Yesterday didn’t require much effort in that regard; it was a lovely day in good company.

I spent a good while reading, yesterday, which I enjoy quite a lot. I spent time writing and enjoyed sorting the many stickers my beloved Traveling Partner had gifted to me. (So fun! So delightful!) He worked on a project nearby, and we hung out together, each contentedly doing our own thing, together.

Today begins well. I get to the trailhead at sunrise, feeling well rested and merry. The walk down the marsh trail is pleasant, if a bit “squishy” from prolonged recent rain. It is sprinkling this morning. I don’t really care about that. I do care about the pain in my left foot (which I have been thinking was a flare up of tendonitis or maybe plantar fasciitis), which slows me down a bit. It becomes obvious as I walk this morning that it may be something much more practical in nature; I think the heel in these boots has some kind of “air cushion” or similar design, and I think the left side has blown out from wear. I’m annoyed by this because these boots can’t be re-soled. Well shit. They’re three, maybe four years old, and I’m probably due to replace them. I don’t really feel like dealing with that, but the path ahead will need sturdy boots, eh? That’s not even a metaphor; good boots make a lot of difference in the quality of a walking experience. I mean, okay, it’s also a metaphor.

…But I guess either way, I need new boots…

I stop a little farther on from my “halfway point”. I’m in no rush. It begins to rain a little harder and lacking overhead cover from the trees, I walk to the photographer’s blind grateful to find it unlocked, and unoccupied. It is a good spot to write and to take shelter from the rain.

What about the day ahead? No idea, really. Yesterday was lovely. There is no shopping to do, no errands on my to-do list, nothing on my mind. I’ll walk, and maybe do a bit of boot shopping before I head home to do some routine housekeeping and such. Maybe bake some bread if I have the energy later? Seems a good day for it. Maybe chili for dinner? I remind myself to check that I have all the ingredients.

Life being lived. Nothing extravagant or fancy, all pretty ordinary stuff. Where it gets complicated is that it is too easy to become wound up and twisted over some moment of disharmony or disappointment, and overlook all the joy and contentment. Savor the joy! Be present for the moments! Appreciating the pleasant moments and the small joys with the same focus, commitment, and energy we seem to save for arguments creates emotional resilience and a more accurate implicit sense of who we are and the life we lead. It’s also simply a very nice way to experience life fully; be present for each moment. That’s a pretty useful practice.

The rain stops. My Traveling Partner pings me a good morning greeting as he wakes. A large flock of geese passes overhead. There are more storm clouds on the horizon. The sky is a homogeneous milky gray. I sit with my thoughts and this quiet feeling of joy, and prepare to begin again.

It’s rare to put things in order such that some need of my own really “comes first”. I usually put specific key responsibilities at the top of my list, obligations to home and hearth, family or colleagues, because doing the needful matters, and people are counting on me. Last night I chose to play a current favorite video game for a little while, instead of tidying up or hanging out with the family. This morning I’m writing before I do the budget (it’s a payday). Choices have consequences, and as I sip my coffee I find myself feeling like a jerk for putting myself first last night; I forgot to make tuna salad for my Traveling Partner, which he had specifically and fondly requested (he really likes the way I make it).

…Well, shit…

I sigh to myself and make a note to include an apology with my morning greeting, later. I could do better. Very human; my results vary. But, it’s also not helpful to kick myself over it for any length of time, once I’ve acknowledged my error, commit to making amends, and am ready to move on contrite over the miss, but also grateful that I did take a moment to treat myself well. I’ve just got to do a little better at balancing such things.

…I’ll keep practicing…

I sip my coffee listening to a bit of music, and getting my thoughts organized for the day ahead. The weekend is almost here. It’s a lovely summer day. I feel a peculiar pang of nostalgia for long lazy summer days of adolescence, hanging out at the edge of the woods with my boom box, listening to Atlanta Rhythm Section or Van Halen. Funny to feel it so sharply from this office desk, simultaneously feeling the gratitude and joy of living a substantially better life than I knew in those earlier times. Humans are weird. We cling so tightly to illusions of what was, forgetting for the moment the realities that hurt us so deeply. I guess it’s better than being mired in sorrow. I smile to myself, as I listen to a favorite song from a long gone time ago.

Another day, another set of choices, and new steps on this journey to becoming the person I most want to be. I know I can count on my results to vary, and I’m grateful for each new opportunity to begin again. Change is. This path definitely leads somewhere. I guess it’s time…