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The Will or the Won’t

October 16, 2024 //
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It is raining at this trailhead. Just a sprinkle, really, and not enough to deter me this morning; I am restless and tired and I feel a need to “walk it off”. I slept poorly. My Traveling Partner was up late with the Anxious Adventurer, clearly enjoying each other’s company. I retired for the night a little later than usual, and every time I started to doze off, a bit of loud conversation or the bark of unexpected laughter would wake me. This went on until well past eleven, though I stopped checking the time at that point, resigned to the serious likelihood that I just wasn’t going to get the rest I need.

… I’m honestly still annoyed about it…

I woke sometime around 02:30, wakened again by some human sound. My Traveling Partner was awake. I felt a moment of sympathy; I wasn’t sleeping well, either. Headache-y and sound sensitive, I got up to pee, had a drink of water, and went back to bed. I woke groggy and stupid when my silent alarm reached full brightness, cross to be facing a new day already. My dreams were full of work (actual manual labor). I woke still tired, eyes scratchy, head aching, squinting at what seemed to be the overly harsh reality of another work day ahead.

…Fuck, I’m tired and irritable…

I breathe, exhale, and relax. Dinner was really good last night. The evening was pleasant and genial. Fun. Time well-spent, although listening to Tool turned up loud for the last hour of my day (sort of) didn’t do my fucking headache any favors. I almost laughed when my Traveling Partner asked me “Have you heard this one?” (Was he kidding, I wondered? I endured 14 years of Tool in the relationship prior to ours. lol. Yep. Heard that. All of that. All the time. Every day for 14 years. I even like some of it… but the anger got old and I got bored with it. I sit thinking about that; it’s a little sad when great art becomes boring. Trite? Overplayed.) I return my attention to yesterday’s pleasantness. It was a delightful day worthy of savoring for a time – so I do.

I’m sitting at the halfway point of my walk, enjoying the sprinkling of raindrops on my face in the darkness. It feels refreshing and my mood improves sitting here quietly, listening to the sound of distant traffic and a soft breeze stirring the meadow grass. My back and neck ache ferociously. There’s still an entire work day ahead. Still, I’m okay – for most values of okay. I’m just tired. I feel less cross, understanding there was no ill will in my crappy night’s lack of rest. The Anxious Adventurer lacks awareness of how his voice carries. My Traveling Partner was enjoying his son’s company. Their conversation wasn’t unpleasant or burdened with negative emotion, and perhaps on a different night I’d have slept through it easily. I let it go. There are more important things in the world to be mad about.

The rain begins to come down harder, making it difficult to write. I get to my feet and stretch, looking back down the trail in the direction I came. Yep. Another day ahead. There are verbs involved and some real effort to be made. I’m already tired. Doesn’t matter much, it’s still time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, anger, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, health, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, The Art of Being

Prose and Comms

September 14, 2024 //
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I woke gently after a restful night. I made coffee for my still-sleeping Traveling Partner, and slipped away quietly into the pre-dawn darkness, headed to the trailhead and another walk at sunrise.

Not quite daybreak, still a new day.

My Traveling Partner wakes before dawn, and pings me a question. This is two mornings in a row that abrupt communication without any sort of greeting or preamble have interrupted my only reliable opportunity to take a little quiet time for myself that doesn’t require me to take that time away from some other purpose or person. I’m momentarily irritated that I’m not important enough in the moment to at least rate a greeting or a “good morning” before questions and complaints. I’m feeling moody over the lack of consideration for this precious self-care time and puzzled by the lack of awareness that I need this for me. None of my partner’s questions or concerns seem so urgent that they couldn’t have waited until after my walk. I sit quietly after the conversation ends, wondering whether to bring it up, and how I could do so without making drama. Is it worth the potential discord? I could have chosen to ignore the pings until later… seems rude to do that when I know he’s home recovering from surgery and could need help. I feel a bit trapped between circumstances and manners.

…He sets boundaries so easily. Why is it so hard for me…?

I breathe, exhale, and relax, and work on getting back to me, after our conversation ends. This quiet time, meditating, reflecting, writing, and walking, is very much part of how I care for myself and maintain my emotional wellness, and build resilience. It has become comfortably routine, and almost “non-negotiable”. Yesterday’s lack of a walk ended up being something I felt all day.

Daybreak comes, and an opportunity to begin again.

I sigh to myself as I lace up my boots. No colorful sunrise this morning, I guess. The sky is cloudy, and hues of blue and gray. The air is mild and scented with meadow grasses and wildflowers, a very particular fragrance both spicy and sweetly floral. I enjoy it. It reminds me of Oregon, which doesn’t surprise me; that’s where I am.

… I head down the trail, intending to finish this at the halfway point…

I get to a nice spot to sit for a little while. It’s a quiet morning and I have the trail all to myself – a pleasant luxury, and rare on a Saturday, even so early. My neck aches ferociously, and my headache is an 11 on a 1-10 scale this morning. I am grateful to have an appointment with a skilled practitioner later this morning. I’d like to enjoy the day without being in this much pain. It’s very distracting. It pulls my focus away from these words and this world again and again. Most unpleasant.

I thought I had something of more substance to write about this morning. It had begun to take shape as I drove to this place, but distractions and conversation with my Traveling Partner caused my thoughts to unravel too quickly to capture even a loose idea of what was on my mind at the time. No matter; I began again. I tend to “write where I am”. Whether that perspective is geographical, metaphysical, or emotional isn’t all that important. In any case, it is the moment I find myself in.

I sit awhile with my thoughts, not writing, and without any particular direction or theme. Pain sucks. I have difficulty recalling a time when I was living pain free more days than not… How long ago…?  I think I would have to measure in decades. The arthritis in my spine set in sometime in my mid-twenties. It’s been with me awhile – much longer than my headache. I distractedly rub my irritated neck. 9 or 10 years for the neck, I think… Fuck pain. G’damn there’s too much of that in the world. I snarl quietly to myself and yield to the demands of my pain, and take an Rx pain reliever earlier than I usually do. I glare at the cloudy sky thinking it’s likely the weather making the pain worse somehow. I laugh at the thought; it sounds stupidly primitive and superstitious, and not very rational. What do I know about it? I’m just a fucking human primate trying to cope with my pain any way I safely can.

I hear voices up the trail. By the time I get back to the car, it’ll be time to head to the city for my appointment. I think about my Traveling Partner, and remind myself to stop by the pharmacy for his prescriptions on my way home. I feel like I am forgetting something, but I don’t know what. I’d love to spend the day painting, but I don’t see that happening today… I hurt, and I’d just as soon go back to bed.  “Fuck pain.” I say out loud to myself. I don’t want to give in to it. There’s so much I’d like to do.

I get to my feet, and stretch, and rest my weight on my cane for a moment, making certain I’ve “got my feet under me” before I head back up the trail. It’s already time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, anger, art and the artist, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, The Art of Being, The Big 5, Words

Feeling Hopeful

February 15, 2024 //
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The commute was ridiculously easy this morning. Very little traffic, and it seemed that every driver was alert, and driving safely. It was… amazing. My Traveling Partner is continuing to recover from his injury, and although there is more recovery yet to come, it seems he’s making good progress. This contributes a lot to my pleasant morning, this morning; it’s comfortingly encouraging. I got a good night’s sleep, and no doubt this is also contributing to my outlook on things as the morning unfolds. I’m grateful for the sleep, and the mood I’m in. My appointment, yesterday afternoon, with a new specialist, went very well. I felt heard. I felt supported. What is most unexpected for me, is that I walked away from that appointment feeling… hopeful. Encouraged. Positive. I feel as if real (physical) healing is not only possible, but also within reach. I haven’t felt that way in a long time.

I sip my cup of ice water (I’ve already had my coffee), and look out at the city, still wrapped in darkness. Hope feels good.

I remind myself to take care not to set myself up for failure by becoming invested in some particular outcome (whether it seems within reach or not). I take a deep breathe and exhale. I do it again. Then again. I feel the calm settle over my body. I’m in some pain today, but my headache does feel somewhat reduced in intensity. Placebo effect from simply being listened to and cared for? Perhaps – but why would I undermine this feeling, even if that were the case? Less pain is less pain. I take a moment to appreciate it. Another breath. Another exhalation. Another moment to relax, to reflect – to begin again.

Later today it’s off to an imaging appointment. More images will ideally mean more – or at least more recent – information about whatever is going wrong with my neck that could be causing (or at least contributing to) my persist headache. I feel cynicism, learned helplessness, and old medical trauma competing with the sensation of hopefulness. I breathe, exhale, relax – and remind myself that it’s okay to unpack some of that baggage, and let it go. I remind myself not to carry past pain into future experiences – often easier said than done, but it’s helpful to put into to words to be more aware of the possibility.

I sip my water. The morning will unfold, as mornings do, and the day will become whatever the day will be. It’s not at all necessary to control everything (it’s not even possible). I prepare to “ride the wave” of whatever the day will bring. I get ready to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, The Art of Being, turning 60, winter

The Worst Headache Possible…

January 13, 2024 //
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…I remind myself for perspective that there are worse headaches than this one. The worst headache possible would quite likely be much worse than this. This one’s bad, though, and I didn’t sleep well with it once it developed. I woke cross and irritable and in more pain than usual, and it’s not a good place to be…but… it’s icy and stormy outside, and I’m safe and warm inside, and I guess things could be just so much worse. No bombs falling on my neighborhood, for example. No flood waters rising. No terrible plagues sweeping through the community. I’ve got this good cup of coffee, and this quiet office, and that’s saying something. I’m in a fortunate place. I just happen to also have this really awful headache competing with my arthritis pain for my attention. It’s shitty, but… it could definitely be worse.

…I sip my coffee and try my best not to be obviously irritable. My “best effort” feels incredibly inadequate, and I commit myself (again) to at least going through the motions of being a pleasant human being if I’ve got to interact with my Traveling Partner – but it’s admittedly easier to be alone in my studio, headphones on without music, avoiding the necessity of interacting until called upon for some specific act of support or care that he needs enough to ask for. Some days, I’m recognizably a fairly limited and shitty human being whose “best” is wholly inadequate for “the common good”. Still doing my best. Hoping to outlast this headache without being a shit to my partner.

My tinnitus is incredibly loud in my ears – that’s often the case if I’ve got a worse-than-usual headache. This one is complex, a combination of my brainstem “feeling like it’s on fire”, and intense aching pressure across my forehead, from temple to temple, and behind my eyes. The whole painful mess seems to begin with my neck, up high, against my skull, and deep inside – I find myself wishing it were “only” a tension headache instead; that would almost be a relief. I know my Traveling Partner worries about my headache. I’m overdue to pursue more attention on some of these physical ailments. I admit I’m frustrated to the point of learned helplessness as far as dealing with them, though. I sigh and remind myself not to catastrophize; it’s just a headache, right? It’ll pass.

I sip my coffee – it can’t be helping that I didn’t have my first sip of my first cup of coffee until almost 10:00, when I’m usually drinking coffee by 05:30. That’s one truth to be mindful of; the habits and routines that comfort and support me come with consequences, in some cases quite visceral and real consequences, when those habits or routines are broken.

My coffee tastes good. I barely notice or care. The headache is a major distraction. I feel my occipital neuralgia beginning to flare up across the left side of my face. Fucking hell, this too? Well, the coffee is soothing and welcome, and I try to force my focus back to that experience.

I peek out a window and see snow.

Snow fell during the night. It’s just a dusting, really, but the temperatures fell to well below freezing – 20 degrees at 10:00 am. I’m definitely not dragging my arthritic bones out in this. When I’m feeling less cross, it’ll be delightful to hang out and maybe watch movies or something. Maybe bake a coffee cake. The forecast suggests these cold temperatures may last until Tuesday… I take a minute for heartfelt gratitude that I am able to work from home. I often go into the office, because I can, but it’s definitely something I am grateful to have a choice about. My Traveling Partner put a lot of love and attention into my home office space, and it’s well-prepared for pretty nearly any sort of work I do, whether personal or professional, creative or billable (or both). It’s nice. I take a moment to appreciate the self-love and attentive self-care that have gone into this, too. I didn’t get here without me, any more than I got here without my partner. 🙂

…Good coffee…

How to begin again…?

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Categories Allegories, anhedonia, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, health, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, winter

New Day, New Headache

December 20, 2022 //
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I am sipping coffee in the stillness of the local co-work space. It’s quite early, and there’s rarely anyone else but me here at this hour. I enjoy the quiet time. Good for writing, reading, and thinking. I woke quite early. I woke with a vicious headache. Not the usual, that’s there in the background, too – no, this one is “special”. I think I must have slept on my neck wrong, and instead of waking with a kink in my neck and pain in my shoulder, the aggravation is painful at the top of my neck/base of my skull – like a tension headache, but more intense. I’d kind of like to just… twist my head off and toss it in the bin next to this desk. LOL Fuuuuuuuck.

As with change, headaches are – and this one will pass. I mean, eventually. lol

For now, I am sipping coffee and drinking water, more or less in alternation. The handful of medications I now take on a more or less set schedule results in choosing to carry a small pill box. I start the day with each of the medications I take right there in my pocket, and when the relevant alarm goes off, I take a moment to take my medication. Unavoidable evidence of aging, I suppose. I’m okay with it; the pillbox is a change that has resulted in being “more on time” and I haven’t missed a dose of anything even once since I started carrying the wee screw-top enameled tin along with me. It does mean that having planned ahead, I’ve got adequate Ibuprofen for the headache. lol That’s something. It’s not everything, but it is helpful. I take a couple with a big drink of water, feeling quite adult being so prepared. 😀

…I’m probably totally screwed once I have multiple pills that look alike all jostling each other in a wee pillbox, but for now they are easy to identify.

It’s Giftmas already?!

It’s almost Giftmas. My beloved Traveling Partner has been busy in the shop, and still managed to slip a couple gifts under the tree for me. He’s got a festive little assortment waiting for him there, too. Happily, and without any stress driving the decision, he’s given me a couple of mine already – can I just say I love presents that are so clearly selected with genuine affection and a deep understanding of “who I am”? 😀 Practical or silly – he gets me. I sit here with that thought, grinning to myself and thinking about my two new Barbies. (Yes. Even as I approach 60. lol) I feel loved. Another gift was given as it arrived; it was just so much bigger than he’d anticipated, and it was going to be a pain in the ass to wrap it – and no way it was actually going to fit under the tree. That and I think he was just really excited to see it in use, and try it out himself… My first Instant Pot! It’s a bit fancy and has an air fryer lid and 11 functions. Just…wow. So much to learn and to try. 😀 This may be the secret to (me) making a proper pot roast, at long last! (My attempts to cook a good pot roast have been pretty dreadful in the past… I am eager to do better.)

I hope I never feel “too old to play”.

Barbie-wise, can I just say how much it delights me that Mattel now makes Barbie in various body types, skin colors, ethnic features, and levels of ability (far beyond what they ever had originally). I love seeing Barbie as an astronaut or the president – and I also love seeing her in a wheel-chair, or as a very dark black girl. I love “seeing myself” in Barbie with pink or teal hair, in jeans, with a camera in her hand, or a backpack on. I love seeing the many other sorts of beauty and lived experience in Barbie, too; it makes for a more complete “world to play in”. My partner got me my first “curvy” Barbies! They look more like me than the classic tall/thin/weird/white Barbie. 🙂

I did indeed make pot roast, the night before I left for the coast, and it was very tasty. I probably could have cooked it for a somewhat shorter time (the roast was on the small side of the recipe recommendations), and although it wasn’t “dry”, it was a bit more done than my partner and I prefer generally. On the other hand, it made amazing roast beef sandwiches a couple days later. Success? I think so. 😀 My partner made french fries using the air fryer (as part of lunch the day I returned from the coast). Super yummy. Another success. 😀 I’m not surprised that I’ll need some practice and some learning. I think back to his gift to me of a wok earlier this year and how that completely transformed my cooking in wonderful ways… I’m excited to discover how this new tool fits into my experience.

I’m excited for the holiday, and it is approaching quickly. I laugh at myself when I think of how little time and planning or effort has really gone into it so far this year. Different. I’m okay with it. It’s a gentle approach, and with all the goings on in my partner’s shop and developing his business, it was very much a conscious decision to make the holiday a modest one, more about love than exchanging gifts, and more about the quality of the time we share than elaborate décor or parties. I smile like a little girl when I think about my new Barbies. So far it is an awesome Giftmas.

Work pulls my focus for a moment. A calendar notification reminds me that the work day is beginning. A ping from my boss reminds me that my work is valued. It competes for my attention briefly; I check the clock. I’ve got about an hour that is still “all mine”. I smile, sip my coffee, and get ready to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, gratitude, Healthy Living, Love, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being, winter
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