Archives for posts with tag: I am my own cartographer

The leg cramp that woke me during the night has left my right calf feeling bruised this morning. It sucked to be awakened in that fashion, while also stiff and partially immobilized by arthritis pain and stiffness in my spine. Once I was able to manage it, I got up and got a big drink of water, with some Calm in it (for the magnesium), took a calcium supplement, and a multi-mineral supplement, and went back to bed. It was hard to return to sleep; the pain and panic which woke me lingered enough to cause some reluctance to sleep. I definitely did not want to wake up to another leg cramp. The lingering ache in my calf reminds me I am aging.

Some commutes are more challenging than others.

The commute home last night was pretty awful. By the time I arrive home some evenings, I have very little compassion for my fellow humans on their own journeys left over to feel. That’s pretty hard to accept, because it isn’t who I want to be. The frustration of observed poor decision-making, the resentment over impeded forward momentum, suffering the terrible lack of consideration for other people evident in the driving of most commuters, it’s all just very… yeah; humanity doesn’t present its best self during rush hour. Put an adult human primate behind the wheel of a car at the end of a work day and send them on home – you will see the most egregious demonstrations of unjustified entitlement and discourtesy, and possibly understand how it is we’re all in the mess we’re in right now, if you’re open to that awareness. I have some of my own shittiest moments of poor character and decision-making behind the wheel of my car on my evening commute, too. “I just want to get home, okay?” translates as “fuck that guy, he’s in my way” far too often. For all of us. For any of us. For each of us. I am learning to make it a point to practice being my best human self during the commute. I am regularly tested. I often fail. I sometimes succeed. I keep practicing, because it matters. This is the sort of thing where each of us has the greatest potential to immediately change the world we live in.

There are gentler moments, too.

The evening passed pleasantly. I relaxed. It was a good choice of activity after my commute. lol I made a nice cup of tea, which amusingly I never drank, and put my feet up. I had every intention of doing some things; I have a list of things which want doing. I did exactly one thing last night; I relaxed. I did that so well that it was my only activity of the evening. 😀 I spent a pleasant little while contemplating how fortunate I am to live surrounded by art I love, to have (and to have read) so many books that have shared with me the thoughts of so many minds greater than my own. I relaxed in the good company of my small library, regretting only that I’ve not yet learned how to hold on to all the books I’ve ever read, ever owned; I persist in the silly notion that somehow, keeping the books to some “reasonable quantity” is a thing that matters more than keeping the books. lol I’m pretty sure I’m wrong about that, but I lack infinite space and infinite bookshelves. 🙂

The books I have kept are my best and favorite and most meaningful and most loved. They easily fill the 6 bookshelves I’ve got, currently, and there are several (meaning 7) more boxes of books in the garage waiting for me to do something about that. More shelves? Fewer books? No idea. There’s no rush. For now they are conveniently still boxed up… some of them had been boxed up the entire time I lived at #59. My hardbound set of The Great Books of the Western World (more appropriately named “The Great Books of the Elders of Whitemanistan Because White Dudes Said So And Hey Who Else Really Writes Books Guys, Amiright?”) for example, has been in boxes for some years, now. I have weird mixed emotions about “The Great Books”, primarily because, um, some of them aren’t all that god damned “great” and the selections reflect a peculiarly patriarchal (and exceedingly white) perspective on greatness, generally. So, the entire set stays boxed up unless for some reason I urgently need a bygone white guy’s take on the world in some moment. Last time I cracked open those boxes I was looking for Adam Smith’s “Wealth of Nations”. The time before that, Euclid.

My view on the evening included the deck. It is slowly being covered with leaves, and apparently the air out there is just fucking filled with invisible spiders. lol This weekend I’ll do something about both of those things. Spiders first. :-\

It’s a new day. I’ll have two great opportunities to work on being my best self while I also commute. I’ll observe details of life I may have previously overlooked, or forgotten. My musings will entertain me, and if I am fortunate, I’ll learn from them as well. One day in a human lifetime. I can make it significant, or let is simply pass by. I can choose to change the world, in some small way contributing to its betterment, or… not. I can begin again, or drift without effort, waiting for change to act on me. It’s a pretty vast menu of choices. The day ahead is a blank page.

Choose. Begin again.

 

I’m dithering this morning. Struggling to fully wake up. Groggy. Dragging myself through the morning, unexpectedly. I think I slept just fine, although I woke briefly around 2 am. I feel disconnected and disengaged. I could happily go back to sleep if that were an option. I sip my coffee and wonder how it is that it is already cold. Have I really been awake more than an hour? Sitting here, fingers poised over the keyboard, coffee slowing going cold, a blank white page in front of my eye holes, just… waiting? Weird. It’s a bit as if I had attempted to boot up my laptop, logged in, then got a progress bar, and… no progress. lol Hung session. I’m stalled. Shit.

“Have you tried turning it off, and then back on?” my brain quips at me, silently. I snicker at myself. It would be handy if it were that easy. As I said, I could happily go back to sleep if that were an option. It is, however, a work day for me… so I trudge through my routine persistently.

The morning continues slowly. Not at all productively. I’m barely on track with basic self-care. lol What the hell? Well… living proof; my results vary. I really need a do-over. A restart. I need to… begin again. lol omg. So tired…sort of… I mean… just not really all the way waking up, yet. Inconvenient – and no proper condition in which to drive a car in rush hour traffic.

I make a fresh coffee, and head to the deck to enjoy the dawn.

So…yeah… spiders are a thing.

Well… I’m awake now. Coffee cup in hand, fresh hot cup of coffee, I step out onto the deck, into the cool dewy morning… and walk into and through one (or more, it’s not clear at this point) vast sticky spider’s web stretching invisibly across the deck, between the eaves, over the entry way. I didn’t see the rather large spider until well after my panic attack (complete with some spastic dancing, and possibly a startled shout, and some hysterical flapping of arms and twirling and stomping – a proper freak out, actually).

I have definitely restarted my morning. LOL After splashing fresh hot coffee all over the deck – and my work clothes – I’ve showered again, changed into other clothes, made yet another cup of coffee, checked again for spiders, like, a million times. lol Fuuuuuuck. Did I mention how fucking alert I am now?? Damn. So… what the hell? Was that necessary? “Be careful what you wish for…” my brain smirks at me. Definitely awake now.

…Still don’t have much to say. Okay, okay, some days more than others, yeah? Time to do a Wednesday.

 

I remember being in pain yesterday, in the afternoon. I woke in pain this morning. One nice thing about unreasonably hot, wildfire-dry, summer weather – those long hot dry days are just about ideal for minimizing my arthritis pain, no Rx required.

I love autumn. I love crisp cool mornings, colder nights, and warm afternoons. I love the shff-shff of fallen leaves, disturbed as I walk through them. I enjoy the short days, the long nights, the late sunrises, the early sunsets. It’s so exquisitely lovely, all of it, that every year as it returns, I am surprised all over again that with it comes pain. Rather a lot of pain. Everyday pain. Waking up in pain. Yoga to ease pain. Enjoying long walks – that also hurt. It is what it is. I’m glad I am able to walk. To stand. To dress myself. This morning, I find room to be amused that another autumn comes, and again I have forgotten that I am always in this much pain. There will be other mornings, colder mornings, on which I no longer find humor in the moment. I’m not in any rush to reach those mornings. I take a moment to appreciate the morning, shored up by perspective on how much less pain I am in right now than I could be.

I have friends who hurt, too. Family members. Loved ones. Pain is part of the human condition. We feel. We experience sensations. Sometimes, feelings are unpleasant. Sometimes sensations are painful. We easily lose sight of the pain of others, living out our own experience of pain. I know it happens to me. When I hurt, and can’t imagine hurting more than I do, it’s way too easy to forget that there actually is more worse pain than what I am in, myself – and someone else is feeling that. Yikes. Talk about perspective. It’s true for you, too; someone else is in worse pain. Possibly more often. It’s something to remember when we face the world, hurting; we are not alone. We may feel alone with our own pain, but we are not alone in the experience of being in pain, generally.

This morning, I am in pain. I’m not bitching. I’m just noticing it there, reflected back at me when I attempt to ignore it, each movement in my spine resulting in mild nausea, and a chronic almost irresistible desire to flex, twist, move, rock – all of which hurts, but the movement may, over some minutes, ease the pain somewhat. I look at the calendar and frown. Not even October? Shit. I feel inclined to say it seems earlier this year – but I say that, and feel it, every year. lol This year, I commit to caring for myself in a reasonable and rational way (still, and, again). I take a deep breath. I let it go. I get up from my chair and do some more yoga. It helps.

I abandon my writing and take another hot shower. Lingering in the hot water, I catch myself daydreaming about the heated seat in my car and the 45 minute commute to work enjoying it. Oh, Autumn, you are so beautiful and so cruel to me! I laugh about it, because this morning I still can.

I make a mental note to myself to be kind to people; I can’t tell what kind of pain they may be in, or how hard they are having to work at being decent to people, themselves. We’re all so very human. We are interconnected, and our shared experiences color the experiences we don’t share. Being a jerk to someone can so easily become the experience that blows their day – just as a moment of kindness can turn a bad day around completely. I consider the woman I most want to be, and commit to be more her today than I was yesterday. I give a mental shout out to the friends who seem to have really mastered “self” and “have their shit together” in all the ways that matter most to me. I find myself thinking about old-fashioned thank you notes.

The morning moves on. I sip my coffee. I scroll through my playlist absent-mindedly, unsure whether I actually want to hear music this morning. Pain, coloring my thinking, changes my decision-making in subtle ways; something to be mindful of as the day goes on.

It seems like a good time to begin again. 🙂

It’s one of those Mondays after a long weekend that feels like I have “been away a long while”. It’s highly subjective, and an illusion. I often feel this way after a long weekend – or any weekend that I really succeed in “disconnecting” “letting go” or “recharging”. I almost always feel this way after a weekend in the studio. It’s like taking a step back from a life I love to rejoin a life-in-progress about which I’ve long had mixed feelings. lol It’s a feeling that will fade quickly, as I begin process routine Monday workload and start feeling “caught up”. I sip my coffee and spend a couple minutes contemplating the illusory nature of emotion, the made up nature of personal narrative, the mutability of life itself.

So far it’s a good beginning to a Monday. My coffee this morning is excellent, and I have refrained from looking at the news, or Facebook. 🙂

I sip my coffee a few minutes more, thinking about friends I saw, friends I didn’t see, friends I observed from a distance over Facebook. I think about the past (the weekend), the future (retirement), and notice that I have strayed rather far from this moment now, and pull myself back to the present with a smile, a sigh, and a sip of coffee.

Did I mention that my coffee this morning is excellent? Is it worth mentioning that if I let my consciousness wander to far from being present in this moment, I stop tasting it? That seems relevant. I consider only my coffee for a moment or two, savoring the smoothness of the steamed almond milk, the richness of the locally roasted Ethiopian beans. I take time to appreciate how quickly I’ve become more proficient with the espresso machine, again. I let my awareness become filled with this morning, right here. The coffee. The sound of traffic. My tinnitus. The trickle of the aquarium. The feel of this space I live within. Mmm…did I mention the coffee? 🙂

What a lovely equinox weekend it was. I feel rested and well-cared-for. The world waits…

…I guess it is time to begin again. 🙂

 

 

It’s been a satisfying weekend, so far, and it’s Sunday. Back to work tomorrow. A new list today. It’s time to begin again, you see, to return to reliable self-care routines, to catch up on the housekeeping, to wrap up loose ends, to tidy up the studio.

I sip my coffee contentedly. No new work has been completed, but the studio feels “right”, and a great deal of background work has been done (which is to say, backgrounds have been painted, in-fact). I also managed to do a great deal of additional moving in work, because realistically, although I can quickly paint quite a few backgrounds for later use, doing so still results in wet canvases everywhere needing to dry, which results in time on my hands not being spent painting. 🙂 It’s been a lovely relaxed joyful productive weekend that also managed to be wholly restful. I needed that, too.

Today, I look around over the edge of my coffee cup as I move through the rooms of my current residence, feeling settled in, and “at home”, and mildly frustrated each time I recall that I’ve got at least one more move before I can even consider not having to move anymore. I shrug off that bit of discontent (it can wait for some other moment to be fully considered), and take a look around with an eye for starting a new work week. There’s laundry to be done. Vacuuming. Meal prep for work week lunches. I smile with approval at how little things “fell behind” over the weekend. Even today can be relaxed, and simply a day of mindful service to hearth and home, and itself quite emotionally nourishing. I enjoy being the human being responsible for my day-to-day quality of life.

I make my “to do list” with care, and an eye on meeting the needs of the moment, and also my needs over time. My idea of “carpe diem” and “YOLO” include consideration of the future moments of living that are implied by “to live” being a verb that expresses an ongoing condition. Sure, sure, being mortal is a thing, but since I’ve no guaranteed “end date” on this journey, it seems the wiser course to mindfully consider my needs beyond this moment right here; I may need some things from myself (and life) tomorrow, too, or next year… or in 2025, the year I expect to leave the workforce permanently. 🙂 Ideally, embracing life includes that future I am planning for, not just this one singular mortal moment right now. This morning, that future consideration leans heavily on the upcoming week, and some bigger events a bit beyond (holiday season planning, I am looking your way!!). It’s enough. More distant future planning is still fuzzy and daydream-y, enough to consider gently, not quite enough to count on.

My sleep last night was as restless and weird as my sleep Thursday night was uninterrupted and deeply restful. I don’t take that personally. I got up once or twice, child-style, for a drink of water and a quick check around for “monsters”. (Somehow tap water always tastes best in the wee hours, barefooted in the darkness, and “monsters” seem an entirely reasonable thing to check for.) My half-awake mind doesn’t question the need for either, though I am certain that thirstily gulping down two big glasses of water at 2:43 am likely contributed to the urgency of getting up promptly at 6:45 am, this morning. The day began earlier than I’d have planned, but late enough to feel like “sleeping in” in spite of that. 🙂 Win and good.

I’ve got a list. I’ve checked it twice. It’s time to begin again. 😀