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Building a New Normal

July 1, 2024 //
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Sometimes change is hard. Sometimes change arrives rather quickly, and instead of evolving gradually over time, it pulls up out front in a moving van and unpacks over a weekend. 😂

…We managed to get most of the necessary move-in basics handled and the truck returned on time…

Getting the Anxious Adventurer moved in was the priority for the weekend, other than caring for my Traveling Partner, who was effective and handy, supporting various tasks with thoughtful guidance. The whole chaotic endeavor was considerably improved by how we each embraced the circumstances (no doubt each for our own reasons). We’re all in it together and it was obvious.

I’m definitely feeling the strain of the aggressive pace of the weekend’s activity in sore muscles and lingering fatigue. “A new normal” begins with this quiet, pleasant Monday morning. I’ll work from home with much more freedom to focus on work with my Traveling Partner’s son now available to help out, too. Hell, I might have enough left in me at the end of the day to cook a proper meal! There’s more to do, but now it can be handled within the context of the day-to-day living of life, which feels pretty good. I even got to spend some time reading last night!

There’s more to do. The work of adjusting to the changes required is not yet completed. There are boxes to go into storage. Things to change or “fix” about how the household is set up, to be better suited to three people, where there had been only two, before. The living room, though, is no longer filled with the contents of a moving van, and no one is sleeping on the floor. Progress. Today will be my first day working from my completely rearranged office-studio-creative space, which still needs a bit more fine-tuning. I chuckle to myself, still amused and astonished that I managed to move a full-sized couch into such a small room (with the help of the Anxious Adventurer and the guidance of my Traveling Partner giving instructions from down the hall). Funnier still, it manages to be more “cozy” than crowded. It will force me to be quite mindful of the space and keep it very neat, though; there is no room to tolerate clutter. Not one spare square inch of space is left for being careless or messy.

I while away a few minutes thinking about change and wondering when my Traveling Partner’s surgery will be? Scheduling that should happen today. Once we’ve got the date settled, I’ll also schedule some away-time for myself, for a date maybe a couple weeks after the surgery. Damn, it’s good to have the help of the Anxious Adventurer! I feel incredibly grateful and very fortunate. I finally have the emotional “room” to breathe and reflect and consider and exist outside the constraints of holding myself constantly at the ready to handle any/every task, every moment, all of every day… That was a lot of pressure, but I didn’t know how else to handle things.

… I’m so tired…

It’s a new day. A new opportunity to begin again. There’s more to do (nearly always is), but life has “less weight to it” somehow and I feel pretty good, generally. I woke at my usual early time, and I’ve had the trail to myself this morning. I watched the sun rise as I walked, and these quiet minutes to write and reflect don’t feel snatched from the limited time available for everything else that needs doing. It’s nice.

I don’t yet know what the new normal looks like, but I’m on this path and I’ll know soon enough. I stretch and yawn and smile. It’s time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, art and the artist, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Summer, The Art of Being

A Celebration of Survival

June 12, 2024 //
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Well, here it is… my birthday. 61. I’ve made it another year! Well done, me. lol

…I’m glad I’ve made it this far…

At birth, my cohort life expectancy was 73.4 years, although my familial longevity hints at my potential to be around much longer. (I’ve also got family members whose lives were much shorter… It definitely matters to take care of one’s health and avoid high risk activities.) My individual circumstances being what they have been, I wasn’t confident I’d get this far (in spite of my aspirational notion that I would like to see 2083…).

…I’m glad to be here…

No elaborate plans for the day, aside from quietly celebrating my survival thus far, and spending the day more or less doing what I’d like. I took the day off. My Traveling Partner is still on the injured list, so definitely available to enjoy the day with me, and also needing me to be available to help out and provide care. Managing an intimate connected balance being present for each other will probably guide the day. How else? We’re in this together.

…Maybe takeout from the French restaurant in town for dinner?..

I watch the sun rise from a local trail, walking with my thoughts, pausing to sit in the sunshine and write, before heading back to the car. I’ve survived 61 years of sometimes hard living and considerable trauma… but also joy, love, wonder, happiness, and an adequate measure of prosperity and success sufficient to see the here and now of my life become mostly pretty good. I’m loved. It’s a lovely day. Pretty good one for a birthday, for sure.

I think about the years to come… how many more, I wonder? 15? 20? 35? I walk along considering what sorts of things I can (or must) do to see the other side of 100 with my faculties and abilities intact. 40 more years of life as it is now would be pretty fucking splendid…

…Change is, though, and I have no idea what the future holds…

…It’d be pretty cool to make it to 120, I think, and to see how the world has changed…

I sigh, exhaling a deeply drawn breath of fresh meadow-sweet air. It’s time to begin again… Another year of practices. Another year of putting miles on these boots. Another year of living. It’s worth celebrating.

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Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, meditation, Moments, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, Spring, Summer, The Art of Being

Different Day, Different Experience

November 23, 2022 //
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One thing I like about new beginnings, from the simplicity of waking up to a new day to the intensity of “starting over in life” entirely, is that if I embrace the potential and “hold the door open” for change allowing my experience to be different – it definitely will be. Generally. Barring obvious limitations to that kind of outcome (like being trapped within the confines of an unhealthy dynamic – in those situations, change can and does still occur, but the timing often does not feel “timely”).

I think what I mean to say is – I’ve got to be open to allowing a bad experience to change, evolve, or end, before it easily can. If the circumstances are shared, then it isn’t always up to me alone to see wrongs put right, or to find my way to a more enjoyable experience. It’s more complicated, for sure. It is far more likely that I’ll become mired in some terrible mess or abysmal case of the blues if I am not actually willing to move on from it, or unwilling to allow change to occur. As weird as it is – it’s very human to cling to misery and suffering, even to create and nurture it. I definitely recommend not doing that.

It is the evening before Thanksgiving. For me, it is the kick-off of the winter holiday season. A season of giving and of gratitude, of sharing and of community, of feasting and celebrating. What am I celebrating? Everything I am grateful for. Part harvest festival, part holiday party, and as much of it spent in the kitchen as at the table – it’s one of my favorite American traditions. No pilgrims at my holiday table, and also no genocide; that’s not the foundation of this holiday in my home. There’s no reason to keep telling old lies about first Thanksgivings, or try to use a fond holiday meal to whitewash brutal colonial history. It’s not about that. It’s about setting a good table, preparing a good meal, and sharing thankfully.

…It’s pretty easy to avoid strife when it’s just my Traveling Partner and I sitting down to our holiday meal, and I’m thankful for that, too.

So the menu is decided, and the recipes are selected. The “who does what” has been determined. Now it’s a long weekend and a day in the kitchen, then a day to get the Giftmas tree up and decorated, and a day for mixing up the plum pudding and steaming it (to be set aside to age until Giftmas). This particular weekend almost always feels like an actual vacation for me… well… I say that, but memory is a funny thing; I don’t much remember the confrontations or arguments of past family holidays at all. All that remains is the recollection of excellent meals, holiday lights, and the delights of “the season”.

Here’s wishing you a lovely holiday, and much to be grateful for. I hope every recipe is wonderful, and all your timing is quite right getting the meal to the table this year. ❤

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Categories Allegories, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, gratitude, Healthy Living, Love, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices

Cold Rain, Warm Mug

October 24, 2022 //
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I made a cup of coffee shortly before a meeting. Minutes later, before I even felt the warmth of the mug soak into my hands, my Traveling Partner was finally getting it through to me that the electrician who had just arrived would be cutting the power while he worked. Well, shit. I mean… I knew he was coming. It was on the calendar. I chose to work from home anyway (really needed the bigger dual monitors for the project I was seeking to complete), because the last time the electrician came around, or so it seemed to me, the power was only very briefly disrupted. Maybe I wasn’t home for that? Something had gone wrong with my planning, for sure. My partner finally succeeded in communicating through my “focus fog” that I wasn’t going to be able to work much longer in my office at home… so, I packed my things “right quick” and headed to the nearby cowork space…

My anxiety flared up hard-core. Did I have everything? Would traffic be bad? Would I hit all red lights? Would I get to my meeting on time? Would there be a nearby parking spot? Would I get my equipment set up fast enough? Would there be an open workstation for me? I hammered my brain with what-if scenarios all the way to the office. It’s only a 2.5 mile drive… but it was also midday. Lunch time “downtown”. I fussed the whole way there, but…

A. I hit all the traffic lights green.

B. Traffic wasn’t bad.

C. There was an open parking spot right by the front door.

D. My usual workstation was available for me.

E. I got my equipment set up quite quickly – with minutes to spare.

Oh, but that streak of luck ended when I logged in and went to my calendar; I forgot my headset. Wtf?!? Damn it. I asked the receptionist if she had a spare laying about…but no. The facility manager overheard me, and offered me a pair of wired earbuds of unknown origin, that she quickly wiped down with a disinfecting wipe. Fine. That works. I was most appreciative – and I made it to my meeting precisely on time. 😀

I got the work done I needed to. The electrical work got done, too. My Traveling Partner let me know once all that was finished. I wrapped up the work in front of me, and the day seems to finish on a good note. I sit for a minute with a warm mug of herb tea – it’s a bit too late for coffee at this point.

What I’m saying, I guess, is that my anxiety may have flared up, but it wasn’t any more real than any other imaginings of whatever sort. It had no particular bearing on the actual outcomes. No relationship to real life at all. A lot more small bullshit could have gone wrong. I’d have handled it if it had. Anxiety is unpleasant to experience, sometimes difficult to manage, but it lacks substance. It’s “not real” – or, to be more clear, it’s no more real than I make it.

The day winds down. I’m tired. It’s time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, Healthy Living, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices

Redirect

March 26, 2021 //
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Funny thing about change… it changes things. Sometimes a lot of things. Just breathe through it; it’s only change.

I’m sitting here listening to the end of the work week. It sounds like this. Friday.

There is sunshine casting bold shadows over the deck. The afternoon is not quite warm, but it isn’t cold at all. I’m listening to music I love, sitting cross-legged, relaxed and smiling and feeling loved. My Traveling Partner had a lot to do with this lovely sunshine-y moment; he bought us a new amplifier for the stereo, and spent much of the past two days getting the sound just right. I feel a bit as if I am falling in love with a lot of great music, all over again.

I’m listening to music. Smiling. Relaxed. Feeling loved. Feeling fortunate.

…It’s a lot to take in, actually… it used to be pretty reliable that feeling this good would rock me off my center, and be followed by some colossally inappropriate, ludicrous temper tantrum or PTSD meltdown, at some especially inconvenient moment. As if everything good that I might experience needed some sort of emotional reckoning, or reminder that I was not worthy of good experiences. I’d end up filled with so much despair, and a sense of lasting futility. Mired in that mess, I’d exert real energy to make it all just that much worse, if such could be done – or so it often, inexplicably, seemed to be.

Today? Today I’m just relaxing on a Friday, listening to music, and feeling fortunate. I’m grateful to have come so far, but humbled enough by hard times to know that “this too shall pass” also applies to the best moments. Enjoy it. Savor it. Don’t take it personally. Don’t develop an expectation that the sun will always shine in this lovely spring moment. Be here, now. Breath. Exhale. Relax. And still, even now, also practice non-attachment. Enjoy. Breathe. Accept. Exhale. I’m still smiling. It’s enough.

Soon enough the album will end. The track will change. The sun will set. There will inevitably be a time to begin again. 🙂

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Spring, The Art of Being
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