Archives for posts with tag: good self-care

Some days it is enough to wake up smiling. 🙂

I am sipping my coffee, and listening to my Traveling Partner’s quiet breathing as he sleeps in the other room. This, too, is enough. 🙂

It’s even Friday – how much better will this one moment get? 🙂

This? This is what “happy” feels like. There’s no point chasing it; it doesn’t come to us by way of chasing it down. I sip my coffee, enjoy the moment. I am content that this, too, yes, will pass. Change is. New beginnings are. Fighting change is as pointless a waste of time as chasing happiness. It’s just not the most effective approach.

I sip my coffee, while I embrace change – all the many small twists and turns on life’s journey, the opportunities, the challenges, they add up over time. Skillfully managed, incremental change over time is simply part of being, and part of becoming. It helps to have a result in mind – and to refrain from clinging to that outcome as though it were a given (it isn’t). It helps to make choices – not just endure the changes inflicted upon you by circumstance.

Small things are slightly different this morning. The door to the studio is closed to minimize the noise of the keyboard that might reach the bedroom. The car is in the garage to make room for another car in the driveway. There is a warm, breathing, much-loved human being sleeping in my bed. The wheel keeps turning. I may wake up alone tomorrow. I’m even okay with that.

This moment? It’s enough, just as it is.

It’s already time to begin again, nonetheless.

I started to type a phrase into the text box, and got only as far as the word “next”, and sad numbly for a moment, struck by the observation that it definitely appeared to be spelled quite incorrectly… although… it isn’t. Huh. I sip my coffee, and stare at it awhile, no longer certain where I was going with the thought, at all.

Why am I writing today? I mean… routine, sure. It’s a practice, but… this morning I struggle to connect it with my thoughts or experience, and that, too, strikes me as strange.

I hear the trickle of the aquarium in the background. I’ve been ready to “decommission” it for several weeks now. The livestock are gone (some due to age, some through misadventure – a power outage while I was away – and some re-homed, prepared to drain the tank). I am away to often to care for my aquarium easily, and I am living a life that no longer requires serious masking sounds to ease my anxiety; there is no yelling in the background here, no day-to-day tension between others, or infiltrating my own experience. Those conditions, taken together, result in the aquarium becoming a higher maintenance element of my surroundings than I want to make time for. I chose change instead… then sort of got stalled half way through, because I am also quite human. I haven’t been particularly self-conscious about it – I’ll get to it, perhaps this weekend?

I look around this room, and through the open doorway, into the next. There always seems to be a “next” – a next task, a next project, a next moment, a next weekend… but we are mortal creatures. One day, “next” is also… “last”. I sigh out loud and sip my coffee, committing silently to tidying up and finishing things and putting stuff right and following up on loose ends… all the things. I regularly do. I often still end the day with some “next” thing that I really need to wrap up… the next day.

I smile at myself. This morning, a great many of my “nexts” are about the upcoming weekend, and about my Traveling Partner. We shared a great phone call yesterday, and I came away from it delightedly expecting that he could realistically show up more or less any time at all… maybe even… the next day. Wow. That lifted me up in the most remarkable way!  It also filled my head with shit I now rather urgently want to get done, because I like to be a good hostess, and with the busy weekend ahead, and a possibly imminent visit from my Traveling Partner, things like that one waste basket I overlooked emptying are really standing out to me now. lol I find myself thinking about detailing the bathrooms, and changing the linens, and wondering if the patio door glass is clean, and how long has it been since I dusted? Already I am impatient about the work day ahead. Already I am eager to return home and get to work on the housekeeping. lol

I sip my coffee, think about life and love and wonder “what’s next?” I guess I’ll have to begin again to find out. 🙂

I recently read a meme or a post or an observation somewhere to the effect that we “don’t owe” “basic human decency” to [insert preferred list of “bad people” here]. I found myself astonished that “basic human decency” is so often seen as something we provide on a limited basis, and only to specific qualifying individuals. Then I laughed. Then I felt incredibly saddened. Seriously? “Basic human decency” is something to aspire to because we are human – and decent. It’s a literal baseline for decency; the minimum we offer, because “decent” is a human quality we cultivate. We provide that experience because it is characteristic of who we are. Portioning it out to just those who are adequately deserving suggests to me a fundamental lack of actual decency, altogether. Just saying.

I’m not pointing any fingers. Been there. I’ve been in that place where I was so angry (generally) and so wounded (emotionally), that behaving with any sort of decency seemed… unfair, or unreasonable, or… well… I wasn’t gonna do that. :-\ I did not understand at all that it was not about whether that person was “deserving” of decency – it was always about whether I was sufficiently developed as an adult human being to be capable of decency in those circumstances. It said more about me as a human being than anyone else. It’s very much the sort of puzzle that kept pulling my focus back onto me, when I started down this path – what I am capable of? What I can learn? What I can do to change myself? I have so little ability to change the world, or any one individual, and so much opportunity to become the woman, the person, the human being I most want to be. At this point, I could describe it as my life’s work. (I find it hard to accurately describe how far I have actually come as a person, and how far I recognize that I still have to go.)

My housekeeping? Not perfect. I’m prone to untidiness, but thrive within the context of a lifestyle that is very orderly, well-kept, and managed on a calendar. I have to work at order. I do. There are tons of verbs involved and my results vary.

My self-care? Hit or miss under stress, but generally pretty good these days, otherwise. I work at that, too. It’s a very human experience. More verbs. More practices. I begin again every single day.

My sanity? Mostly fairly well-managed these days. I do what it takes. I see my therapist when that is the needful thing. In years that I’ve been medicated, I’ve stayed the course on my medication(s) and taken prescriptions as directed as much as my memory (and coping skills) allow. I’ve made a point of getting off of medications that were doing me harm. I practice good practices, and I no longer punish myself for my very humanity. I’d say I’m generally sane, mostly fairly rational, and entirely willing recognize my mistakes, whenever that comes up (often). 🙂

My ability to be a basically decent human being? Pretty good, generally, with some misses here or there when I’m not entirely myself, or during some moment of severe stress, illness, or in the throes of misadventure. It’s a work in progress, frankly, I’d like to be more reliably wholly a basically decent human being, as a reliable default setting. I continue to work at that, because from my perspective on life, now, it seems the literal least I can do for the world… which make it sort of obligatory to at least give it a shot, and to really practice it until I am quite skilled. 🙂

My experience is my own. Same for yours. When we make wise choices that are appropriate to our circumstances, we tend to enjoy our experience a bit more. When we practice, and demonstrate, human decency, we are decent humans – something to aspire to, right there. The world would most definitely benefit from having a higher percentage of basically decent human beings. Life gives us opportunities to change, to grown, to learn, to practice – and we become what we practice.

Today is a good day to practice some “basic human decency” – certainly it is worth being good at that. It’s not about whether you deserve my basic human decency, though, is it? It’s about whether I do. (I definitely do.) 😉

The weekend is here. Generally, on a “go-come-back” sort of weekend, I’ve been facing the drive, itself, sort of grimly. Once upon a time, I loved driving. A collision many years ago took some of the shine off of driving, but eventually, many years later, I regained much of my enthusiasm for it, but… trauma re-wires the brain. Well, shit. Damn… that’s… complicated. Now, although I do enjoy driving, I am also (perhaps excessively) wary of my fellow humans behind the wheel. Frustration, resentment, rage – these are all human emotions that can commonly be “weaponized” with the addition of a bit of entitlement, or some assumptions, or a certain sense of righteousness. It’s scary out there on the freeway. Humans are driving cars. :-\

Today feels different. Although the car I’ve been driving is quite a nice one, in great condition, with lots of power and and maneuverability, I often felt it was utterly necessary to have all that at my disposal simply to survive the highway in the first place. I admit that most of the time I drive, I feel it; my life is at risk just performing the task of driving, on the American roadway. That’s pretty shitty. The car, as nice as it is, tended to contribute to the feeling, rather than easing it, although I don’t know why. It’s possibly “just all in my head”, because, again with the frankness, much of our experience of our lives is. (Get over that. It’s a true thing. Learn to work with it, rather than fighting it.)

Today feels different, in part, I suspect, because this new car in my driveway is a better fit for me as a driver, for a number of totally practical reasons (starting with the smaller size of the vehicle generally). It’s also… mine. It feels like a different experience – because it is a different experience. 🙂

There’s a lot to enjoy about newness, difference, and novelty. It’s exciting. It’s energizing. It’s cognitively refreshing. It’s distracting (from things like pain and anxiety). I’m smiling and eagerly gulping down my coffee so I can get on the road… it’s just now 4:30 am. LOL No dilly-dallying!! I’ve got miles to cover! 😀

I’ve no idea what the weekend holds, but it is ahead of me, and it’s time to begin again. Let’s see where this road leads. Zoom-zoom!

My coffee is tasty. The house is comfortable in the pre-dawn chill of a summer morning. The air quality is still pretty poor as smoke collects in the air from distant fires. My mind is more or less… blank. I’m not quite awake yet, at all. I take another sip of my coffee and stare at the screen. It too remains “a blank page” for some minutes before I finally just drop that into the title field, and sit quietly, drinking coffee, aware.

This is not an unsatisfying moment. I am not feeling frustrated. (I chuckle as I write those words, immediately hearing my Traveling Partner’s voice replying in my head “Well, how are you feeling?”) I am feeling content. Just that. This moment does not seem to require more.

We create our experience with our choices, and our understanding of it is a carefully crafted narrative we make up ourselves, that may or may not accurately reflect the details of our experience (or any other – we’re seriously really good at making shit up and convincing ourselves it is real). This particular experience, here, now, is built on my choice to relax and accept that I may not have anything noteworthy to write about this morning, and to fall back gently on “just putting words on a page”, “thinking out loud”, in real-time, unedited and uncensored. I smirk at myself using the word “uncensored” in the context of this particular morning; there’s nothing about the morning thus far that would require, or benefit from, censorship anyway. 🙂

I’ve caused myself so much stress, anxiety, suffering, and heartache, just by insisting that I do more, faster, so often. The arbitrary performance standards we set for ourselves (and each other) often have no basis in what works, or what matters most. Sometimes they are just numbers pulled out of thin air. Why let life become stressful over made up shit? Seriously. Same with our internal narrative; we often make up a story about our experience that is based on untested assumptions, unvoiced expectations, and wholly unrealistic fantastical details that are in no way factual – then we let it stress us out. (Note: consider not doing that!)

This morning begins another work day. One more after that, and it’s the weekend again. 😀 I’m ready for it… but first, I have to live today, in this moment, present and engaged, and doing both things and stuff. lol Have to? Get to.

…It’s already time to begin, again. 😀