Archives for posts with tag: keeping it real

Becoming aware that a particular old fear or point of insecurity no longer has any power over me is a peculiar moment, simultaneously “powerful” and somehow… relaxing? Like a weight lifted from the baggage I’m dragging through life. It’s a profoundly positive feeling, without being specifically joyful or happy. An achievement unlocked. A new “special move” in life’s game obtained. I sit with the awareness awhile, feeling something, and lacking the words.

I sip my coffee contemplating life and love, feeling this strange new feeling of security and comfortable self-reliance. We’re all in this together. We’re each having our own experience. We are mortal creatures, sometimes sharing the journey, sometimes not. We’re all travelers on this journey that is itself the destination – and there is no map. It’s helpful to avoid becoming attached to a particular outcome.

No one really has any fucking idea what they’re doing, and chances are, the more an individual clings to how right they are, the more potential there is that they’ve overlooked something and are very wrong indeed (about something). Be humble about the potential limits of your knowledge. I mean, that just seems smart. It’s hard to know what we don’t know.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. The threat that a relationship may be ended over some moment of discontent or drama has no power over me these days. Why should it? I’m not here by force, I’m here by choice. If a partner, friend, or associate feels unsafe or that their mental health is at risk, why should they stay? Walk on, I say. Take care of yourself. I’ll be okay. I feel pretty safe with myself, even in my loneliest moments, and I don’t think anyone should feel obligated to continue in a relationship that lacks value – or worse, is painful or damaging. We’ve all got options.

There’s no need to force ourselves to stay where we feel unwanted, ever. Change can be scary and difficult, but damn, it’s never helpful to cling to something that may be tearing you down. There’s no point using the end of a relationship as any sort of threat or leverage with me, though. I’ll help you pack. It’s not personal; if you don’t want to be here, don’t want to share this journey with me, go. Your choice. I certainly won’t try to force you to stay.

… Funny thing, I feel as if the work of processing grief and loss “got me here”; we are mortal creatures, and these cherished relationships between each other are so fleeting. It doesn’t make sense to waste precious mortal hours in a terrible relationship. Walk on. Begin again. Respect yourself and show yourself some consideration.

My dreams last night were full of fire and rage and heartbreak. Inescapable anguish chased me down corridors without doors. I woke angry, seething, ahead of my alarm, and got up to start the day drenched in sweat and feeling as if I had literally been running. My head ached with the effort, and it aches still. My arthritis pain is a serious annoyance. It’s a rainy chilly day, no surprise that I’m in more pain than usual. My feet crunched the leaves and gravel along the trail to my halfway point and back; short walk today. Early meetings. I feel purposeful and resolute. I’m okay right now, and my anger receded into the background as I walked.

By the time I got back to the car, I felt mostly pretty good. Demons slain. Attitude adjusted. Heart filled with gratitude. It’s a good life, generally. I’m grateful for my Traveling Partner and hoping he has a good day.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I’m here because I want to be. I’ve got options. When shit vexes me, I can walk it off, and begin again.

Nice break from the day-to-day, and I definitely needed it. Now it’s back to life, back to reality…. and, oh, hey, there’s a song for that. I add it to my playlist, queue it up, and sing along as I drive to the trailhead feeling grateful that I took today off to “reacclimate” to real life after I returned from the coast.

I slept deeply last night, the first really good deep sleep I’ve had in days – since before my trip to the coast. I rarely sleep really well in a hotel. I often sleep poorly at home. I don’t take it personally or fret much about it anymore; I have sleep challenges and I’m pretty accepting and real about it. Sleep disturbances have been “a thing” for me since I was a child. I’ve experienced multiple parasomnias, some of which persist to this day, and some that I seem to have “grown out of”, or recovered from with medication or therapy. I don’t think of them as “part of who I am” so much as relatively commonplace challenges I happen to endure. I’ve long since given up seeking a root cause or wanting to assign blame. It just isn’t about that. I’m generally grateful to sleep well and deeply. It’s quite a wonderful experience when I do.

Watching the traffic pass by, waiting for the sun

The morning is dark and foggy. I watch the traffic pass by on the highway and sit quietly with my headache (which is a 7 out of 10 this morning) and my tinnitus (which seems to be turned up to 11). Unpleasant, uncomfortable sensations on an otherwise pleasant morning. My head is filled with the remnants of surrealistic dreams of running down forested paths between festival tents and brightly painted caravans, and strangers doing strange things. I was playfully evading a group of my friends for some reason, and woke before I could figure out why some angry old man was hucking tangerines at me. lol

… How’s that for having nothing at all to do with reality?…

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I am vexed by this headache. I feel certain I have “things” to do today… but for the moment I don’t recall what, and there’s nothing on my list to guide me. What am I forgetting? Anything? Is it just that nagging feeling, unattached to anything real? I sip my coffee, and wait for the sun.

…Fuck this headache, though…

My Traveling Partner definitely missed me while I was gone. The reality of having me back home, in his presence, with all of my issues, and very authentically me, this woman that I actually am, wasn’t embraced with the same enthusiasm, or so it seemed to me. I’m sometimes quite frustrated by the sensation that the woman he loves so deeply may not actually be the woman I am. I’d love to be able to see myself through his eyes…both the version he holds in his heart when I am away, and the creature who vexes him so when I am with him. I wonder what I might learn about myself – or about my partner?

Daybreak comes.

The gate to the parking lot finally opens with a familiar rusty screech and a quiet clang. The timing has changed. I take note.  Reality legitimately does not care about my expectations one bit, and it’s a useful practice to reset expectations with new information. I try to do it often.

It’s still early. Chilly morning. I’ve got a warm shirt on, and a comfy zip-up fleece. The sunrise is orange through the mist. I lace up my boots and grab my cane. Good morning for walking and for self-reflection, and a good morning to begin again.

This path won’t walk itself.

The air was still fresh from the drenching rain during the night when I stepped out of the car at the trailhead. Drops falling from the trees occasionally spattered my face and hoodie, which I sensibly wore thinking it might be a cool morning. I breathed deeply, filling my lungs with the rain-fresh air. I walked briskly, alone with my thoughts, my arthritis pain, and my headache. Only one of these things mattered much to me, the rest I did my best to ignore as inconsequential.

Yesterday’s appointments, first with my therapist, and later with my physician, were an interesting study in perspective. I showed up to both prepared to discuss stress and anxiety and how best to manage these lingering mental health concerns, only to be firmly told by both that my levels of stress and anxiety, at least under the current circumstances, seem quite reasonable and even appropriate. Well… Shit. I’m not nearly as well-practiced at managing reasonable-not-a-sign-of-mental-illness stress and anxiety. lol In each conversation it’s agreed that similar techniques and continued practice are helpful. No change to medications or recommendations. Just… Keep managing. Keep up self-care efforts properly. Keep breathing and keep cutting myself some fucking slack, eh? It’s still a lot to handle, but apparently that’s pretty fucking reasonable under the circumstances. It was peculiarly helpful to hear that.

…It doesn’t make things any easier…but it does take a bit of pressure off…

I’ve been hard on myself a lot lately. Sometimes my self-talk is pretty negative, even though I know how cruel and unhelpful that is. I’ve carried some shame and disappointment that I am not a more skilled caregiver for my Traveling Partner, when he needs so much from me while he’s been injured. I’ve labored under the additional burden of my disappointment with myself over not having more energy, more capacity to labor on, more ability to get everything done, every day. I’ve been angry with myself just for not being younger, more able, and for needing rest and care, myself.

…My Traveling Partner, on the other hand, has been kind and appreciative, and generally far more impressed and grateful for my help every day, so this shit is definitely me…

I breathe and keep walking. My Traveling Partner pings me, letting me know he’s awake. I stop on the trail and exchange a few messages before continuing. Time to head back to the car and start the work day. There’s a lot to do, and it sounds like my partner’s son will arrive later, sometime this evening.

Fuck, I’m so tired… A good night’s sleep doesn’t restore my energy these days and every day seems to start with a longer list of shit that needs attention… And I keep putting myself last on my list! Not helpful. lol No wonder I’ve been stressed and anxious. I breathe, exhale, relax… And get ready to begin again.

This is all pretty real stuff. Life. Sometimes it’s a bit much, but it’s better than the current alternatives. I breathe, exhale, relax, and walk on. I’ll get where I am going, eventually. It’s a journey. Incremental progress is still progress. One step forward is still forward momentum. Making a point of being kind to myself doesn’t take any time or cost any money. Worth doing and I’m sure it’ll be helpful stress-management-wise.

… This too will pass…

… It’s time to begin again.

Is the dim light of dawn, before sunrise, “too early” to go for a walk? Does coffee actually “taste good” at all? Is a desktop 3D printer “worth the money”? Am I “beautiful”? Am I “fat”? Am I “stupid”? Is that remark on the tip of my tongue “in good taste” or “hurtful”? Is that bag of groceries “too expensive”?

…Is this a moment I can afford to waste on trivia?…

It’s a matter of perspective in every case, and for each question that I’ve listed so far, isn’t it? Is there a single objective truth answering any one of these questions? I don’t think there really is. Perspective is a tricky piece of adulting. We seem to develop perspective over time, and if we’re fortunate we begin from a helpful place with parents, educators, and elders, leading us through learning, with great care to “stay real”. Doesn’t happen for everyone (that’s pretty “real” all by itself), and certainly a great many human primates reach adulthood either lacking any sense of perspective, or mired in weird distortions created by emotional chaos, thinking errors, and misinformation. Perspective is a big deal.

The dim light of dawn, before sunrise, is “too early” to go for a walk, if the path will be treacherous, slippery, or known to be the active hunting territory of a cougar. Certainly there’d be better times to walk such a trail. On the other hand, given a level paved suburban “trail” through a safely lit park, in the company of a friend, maybe not so hazardous after all?

Which one is this?

Coffee only “tastes good” to those who have a taste for it. Just saying; if you don’t like coffee, no, it doesn’t “taste good” at all. Hell, I enjoy a good cup of coffee – and I not-uncommonly quaff a cup that is… just not good. So… yeah. Perspective weighs in, again.

I suppose, with things like “affordability”, the questions are very relative. A desktop 3D printer is probably super affordable given adequate income, bills all paid, surplus resources, or a likelihood that it may itself become a source of revenue. It wouldn’t be “worth the money” if viewed as an entertaining toy coming out of a limited budget that would result in not paying the bills, or not being able to buy groceries, or fill a prescription for life-sustaining medication. There’s definitely more to “affordability” than the price tag of an item.

Beauty, and the evaluation of beauty, is so incredibly subjective and individual. Am I beautiful? I sometimes think so. Sometimes other people say so. My mirror doesn’t lie to me, though, and I am an entirely ordinary-looking middle-aged woman. What is “beauty”? If it is a feeling and sense of self, I could easily call myself beautiful and feel that I truthfully am, most days. If it is a practical matter of size, shape, symmetry, and fashionable aesthetic? I’m most likely not even “pretty”, “cute”, or “attractive”, to most people. I’m just a 58-year-old woman with a few extra pounds. I’m sufficiently comfortable with who I am and how I look that I don’t make any practical effort to change it with cosmetics, and that works for me. I like comfortable.

The “fat” and “stupid” questions work a lot like the “beauty” question, really; they are subject not only to my own perspective, but also to the subjective perspectives of others around me. Am I fat? Well… I guess, yeah. My doctor would use medical language to say as much, and my health would benefit from losing some weight. A male friend of many years acquaintance would disagree; he likes the aesthetic, the softness, and the hug-ability of a plump woman. Is he wrong? No, just has a different perspective on the matter of weight and fitness. Similarly, if I am having a conversation on a topic I know well, with someone who knows much less about it, I may sound very smart. On the other hand, if I were to attempt to chat up a physicist by fronting and showing off how much I know about physics? I’d sound very stupid indeed, and I’d look a major fool. Very relative. Standing alone in a room considering all of what I know in the context of all there is to know, I’d hesitate to call myself “smart” – there is so much more I could learn, know, or come to understand. 🙂 I’d also hesitate to call myself “stupid” – that there is vast knowledge available, and I only know a fraction of it, is not the defining characteristic of stupidity in my dictionary. (Your results – and your dictionary – may vary.)

Is the remark on the tip of my tongue “in poor taste” or “hurtful”? God damn, it sure could be. I hope it isn’t. I’ve grown a lot over the years, and it is not my way to hurt people carelessly (or by intent, generally), or to present myself in a way that is objectionable for people to be around. I would not even be “the one” to get to decide whether a remark is in poor taste or hurtful – that would need to be decided by the recipient, or the individual I hurt by it. In that instance, it is their perspective that matters, not mine.

Groceries can be expensive. Sometimes that is a matter of perspective, sometimes it’s just a painful punchline to a joke that isn’t funny in a life full of struggle. “Can I afford groceries for my family?” is a question I hope none of us this morning has to ask. Wishful thinking. No doubt someone out there is very worried about this question, and it’s a legit source of stress and heartache. Perspective, here, is more about getting through, getting by, and for those of us not facing that specific struggle, perspective has to extend to being kind at the check out line day-to-day; we don’t know what that other person is truly going through.

It’s a strange time. The pandemic had been seeming to recede, and people got excited (and careless). In that careless excitement lurked the ongoing hazard of new variants with new characteristics, and here we all are, trying to sort out when and where masks still just make fucking sense, and whether or not it’s worth the obvious risks to socialize in groups, yet. For me, my own perspective, it seems a bit premature. I enjoyed my coastal getaway, but I still keep my mask handy. I still avoid groups and close contact with strangers. I still avoid crowds and enclosed shared spaces. I go here or there to run an errand, but attempt to minimize my direct contact with people. I work from home and feel fortunate that I can. I hang out with my Traveling Partner, so grateful to share this peculiar time with this singular individual, fortunate to live and love with a human being I value and enjoy. Feels weird to have moved to new community, but never dined out in one of the local restaurants, or set foot in the shops in the downtown area, but… would it be worth dying for? My perspective is that it can wait – living and loving matters more. So, I take care, take precautions, and stay mindful that this is not a universally shared perspective. 🙂

I stare down into my coffee cup, and then at my to-do list for today. Another Sunday. More housekeeping. Aquarium maintenance, gardening, a quick trip the hardware store… It’s time to begin again. 🙂

What a peculiar day. Busy on the work side, scrambling toward the end of the calendar year. Merry on the personal side – ’tis the season, etc. Ups. Downs. Emotions. Today I had a moment of deep sorrow and self-directed disappointed, in the middle of a morning filled with self-doubt, then, immediately following (even caused by) that moment, I went on to have one of the most moving, intimate, profoundly connected moments of supportive partnership with my Traveling Partner that I can recall in our 10 years together. Seriously, right up there in my top 10 deepest and moved love-infused experiences.

…Never even finished my second cup of coffee. What a day.

Sick fish in the aquarium are not good news, and omg I so did not need that on top of… oh. Hey… interesting. It’s not really “on top of” all that much. Mostly things are pretty okay. Needs are met. Love is enduring. The sky is still blue. I’m okay right now. In fact… aside from feeling a sad acceptance that I may lose some or all of my aquarium fish to illness (and being fairly over the momentary hurt of it, at this point, aside from the bit of sorrow that is what it is)… it’s honestly an okay day. A bit stressful. A bit busy. But… yeah…

The holiday season is here. The cookies I’ve been baking are yummy. I’m okay with the social distancing and staying home stuff, mostly. I do miss my friends. I miss brunches out. I miss even being able to say in any reasonable way that I’d like to visit family. It’s not always easy, but… mostly? It’s not all that different. I just don’t rush off to go here and there on a whim, and I’m sort of mildly annoyed that I can’t yet comfortably really just explore this new community I live in, because… pandemic.

…Things could be much worse. I’m feeling both fortunate and grateful, which turns out to be enough on which to begin again. 🙂