Archives for posts with tag: let small shit stay small
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Learn From It and Let It Go

August 23, 2024 //
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I’m sitting quietly with my coffee, reflecting on recent days, resilience, self-care, love, and the sometimes limited success of “doing my best”. My results definitely vary. Very human. I keep practicing.

A new day, a new beginning.

I reached the trailhead before daybreak, and it began to rain (again) just as the sky lightened enough to walk it safely. So… I wait for a break in the rain. I don’t mind; it’s lovely quiet time to write, meditate, and reflect on recent successes and joy. Time well-spent on a self-care practice that matters more than it seems it should, for such a small thing. I definitely need this quiet solitary time in order to truly thrive.

Yesterday was peculiarly difficult until my Traveling Partner realized he had made an error with his medication that affected his experience in a negative way. He asked me to resume helping him by setting up his medications for him. He still needs my help for now, and I am happy to provide it. Taking a careful, considerate, and collaborative approach, he told me what he needs, I got it together and set up for the night and first thing this morning. Later today I’ll set it up for the afternoon and evening. So far, this feels like a good approach, appropriate to where he is with his recovery.

The evening was a quiet one. I went to bed early enough to get a good night of rest, and even slept through the night (rare for me). I woke feeling rested and comfortable in my skin. It’s a pleasant feeling and a good start to the day. My pain is not a big deal for the moment, even my headache is only about a 2 out of 10, this morning. I sit with that awareness for a while, just enjoying it. Enjoying – savoring – these good moments, however small, is a profoundly powerful tool for building emotional resilience.

This morning I plan to give my Traveling Partner some quiet time for rest. I’ll start work a little later, maybe run some errands before then (after my walk). The cloudy sky revealed by the dawn promises more rain to come, but for the moment it has stopped raining. I grab my boots and my cane. Time for that walk. I smile, enjoying the lush hues of green of the trees and blackberry thickets along the edge of the meadow beyond this parking lot and think about painting the scene in pastels. Maybe this weekend? I sigh contentedly to myself. It looks like a good time to begin again.

Breathe, exhale, relax. Begin again.
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Categories Allegories, art and the artist, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being

The Day Something Changes

August 12, 2024 //
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I’m (finally) sipping coffee. Never had a walk this morning. Woke up in pain, though that’s neither different nor relevant to the moment, or this cup of coffee. It’s fairly late in the morning, so I’m having it with a little (coconut) milk and a bit of sweetness (vanilla syrup). It’s hot. It’s… coffee. It’s fine. Today is “the day”, and my Traveling Partner is in surgery. I’m in the waiting room… waiting. The Anxious Adventurer waits with me. We’re neither of us particularly stressed, both hopeful.

… It’ll be good to “have my partner back”, in the sense that the pain he has had to endure over time has been much for all of us. Worst for him, obviously, but terrible to helplessly witness, and hard on his relationships, generally. Hard on him, too. It has diminished and limited him, and shrunk his world to the size of his pain. I’m eager to see him once again doing the things he loves with ease. I’m eager to hear him laugh again and feel his strong arms around me.

…So I wait. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I drink coffee and remind myself to take my medication. I give some small amount of thought to my vertigo, which has begun flaring up more frequently, in response to less obvious things. I think about the occipital neuralgia that “lights my face on fire” for hours or days. I think about the shooting pain down the back of my right leg this morning that wasn’t there yesterday. Shit. I guess I need to start putting more attention on this fragile vessel. I don’t “feel old”… I resent these possibly aging related complaints, often with real ferocity. I use my resentment and my anger to push past the pain, to reject its power over me. I use my feelings to walk one more mile, and then to walk another. I’ve come too far to give up easily.

… This hospital has a pleasant waiting room (except for the uncomfortable chairs)…

I sit with my thoughts. I breathe. I shift in my chair trying to find more comfort before realizing again that the pain is mine, it’s not the chair. I write. I reflect. I wait. I’m good at waiting.

The Anxious Adventurer goes on a wee walkabout, exploring the carefully planned curated spaces of the hospital to pass the time. I’m fine with just waiting, not because I lack restless energy or curiosity, I just want to wait, patient and present, my thoughts with my partner. It’s certainly a place worth exploring, though. I enjoy the quiet and the hushed conversations, and the art.

… It’s a shame there’s so little public art…

Cloudy day. Waiting. It’s fine; soon enough we begin again.

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Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Summer, The Art of Being

Something More About Perspective

June 6, 2024 //
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I got my walk in early. I started just at daybreak on this mild Spring morning. I walked a bit aggressively, lost in my own thoughts, eyes fixed on some point ahead,  but without really seeing. I felt cross about the way my morning started (with my Traveling Partner’s aggravation over being wakened and struggling to breathe, as I finished dressing to leave).

…Took me awhile to let it go…

I had wished him well and expressed my hope that he could get back to sleep. He didn’t seem to think he would and expressed that in a way that kept our exchange on my mind as I walked along, over-thinking it unsatisyingly.

…I seriously could have done a better job of letting it go, and letting small shit stay small…

I didn’t really begin to enjoy my walk or adjust my attitude until after he pinged me a cute sticker of a little cat tucked in for sleep, indicating he was going back to bed. Damn, I love that guy. At that point, I was easily able to settle down and sort myself out, with a sigh and a smile and a feeling of gratitude. Shit could be a lot g’damn worse in life (and love).

…We’re each having our own experience…

When I sat down to write, I took a quick look at the “page stats” for this blog (it’s not about numbers so much as insights into what people choose to read, and I often find new relevance in old writing). I found myself re-reading a post from almost 18 months ago, and reflecting further on perspective, change,  and the importance of self-care. It gave me real clarity on the morning, and restored my sense of perspective generally, and how good things truly are. Reading a relevant older post is another way to “be there for myself”, and practice good self-care, and another way to regain perspective. (I say a silent “thank you” to the reader who read that post yesterday; reading it this morning was helpful.)

…My Traveling Partner is on his own journey, having his own experience, and taking that at all personally isn’t a helpful approach to partnership…

Here. Now. Perspective. Sufficiency.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s a pretty morning. The temperature here is a comfortable 50°F or so. The sunshine lights the blades of grass and the trunks of the oaks in the grove where I sit perched on a picnic table enjoying the sunrise. It’s still quite early and I am not rushing back to the house. I’ve got a cup of coffee and this quiet moment to myself and I am enjoying it.

…Sometimes the best thing I can do to take care of myself is to simply take a few quiet minutes to breathe and reflect…

Later today I will take my Traveling Partner to an appointment with a specialist. I hope there is promising news about what can be done and what the long term prognosis for his recovery from his December injury may be. It’s hard watching him suffer and struggle. I feel so helpless so often. I definitely want to do more to alleviate his pain and discomfort than I seem able to. It’s not about me, though; I just want this human being I love so dearly to be okay.

I sigh out loud and catch myself picking at my cuticles anxiously. Yeah… still human. Still prone to worry and stress. I breathe the fresh Spring air deeply and exhale slowly. I can smell the hedge roses that are on the other side of the parking lot adjacent to this park where I am sitting, and the scent of recently cut meadow grass. I enjoy the smell of Spring, grateful that my seasonal allergies are nothing like as severe as my Mother’s allergies, or my Traveling Partner’s. They’re mostly pretty mild, and seem very specific to certain local flowering trees. That time of year is already beginning to pass.

I am in rather a lot of pain this morning. It’s been an issue all week. I take the medication I have for it. I cope the best I can. I remain unwilling to let my pain call my shots and I try to “just live my life” in spite of it. My results vary. I make a point of not complaining much about it, to the point of generally mentioning it only in passing, if I mention it at all, in conversation. It’s not that I find this to be a helpful strategy, it’s just that there’s nothing to do about it, really, that I’m not already doing, and I am very much aware that my partner is in a great deal more pain than I am. I don’t want to make that about me. I just want to do my best to support and care for him while he’s injured and working on recovering. He knows I am in pain, it’s a chronic condition. No point making that “a thing” – right now it’s just a distraction.

I sit with my coffee and my thoughts awhile longer. Soon enough it will be time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Roses, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, The Big 5

Moving On, Moving In

May 29, 2024 //
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I’m taking some time at the end of an endless seeming day (it’s this headache is all, it’s very tedious) to tinker a bit with the new OS on my desktop PC. I’m tickled by its speed – pretty snappy – and how intuitive (generally) it is to use. Win. I’m spending a few minutes getting “moved in” and figuring out some essentials (like importing passwords and bookmarks, setting up a new browser, and various sorts of housekeeping details to make this space feel more like… “home”). I’m no expert. I’m just mucking about with things that are low risk/high reward… pairing my elegant Bluetooth keyboard, restoring bookmarks for sites I visit often, and hey – even writing a short blog post to “get the feel” of this new “place” where I may be spending quite a bit of time…

I learn a few things about my new OS as I noodle around. Hell, I learn some things about other apps I use – and a few I’d rather not be using at all (looking your way, MS Office, and Google Photos). I find myself “falling in love” all over again with a couple apps that suddenly work so much better on this OS than on a Windows OS (don’t bother me with Apple notions, I’m not into it). It’s a fun adventure – and surprisingly low stress. I don’t know whether to attribute that to my Traveling Partners expertise and willingness to help any time – or personal growth of some sort, but here I am – having a good time, getting some things done. Neat.

I find myself working on exporting photos that currently live on Google Photos… the time has come to move away from that monstrosity in favor of something more secure and more private. 😀

…My Traveling Partner calls to me from the other room, seeking some assistance (out of reach tools that I’m happy to bring to him). Somehow it turns into me getting yelled at, after I ask a clarifying question. Between my headache making me potentially kind of dumb (though still eager to meet the need), and his condition recovering from a procedure making him potentially more easily frustrated (although appreciative of my help), tempers flare. I walk away, returning to the quiet of my studio, and this purposeful activity that is somehow much less fun, now. I try not to linger in this shitty moment – it’s hard.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s probably time to make some dinner and begin again.

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, health, Love, Metaphors, Moments, pain, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being, The Big 5

Beginning Again is a Practice

March 23, 2024 //
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I’m at a favorite trailhead waiting for the sun, or at least enough daylight to safely walk the trail on this foggy morning. I’m also waiting for the park gate to open, which should be any minute now. Another early walker shows up, and just sits idling at the gate, instead of parking and waiting. I don’t take that personally; not my vehicle, not my choice, not my business. I’m ready to walk but not feeling impatient about it.

Yesterday evening my Traveling Partner and I enjoyed a lovely somewhat romantic very connected evening listening to music together, but it ended on a sour note. I wrapped up my day with some quiet time reading, hoping to avoid aggravating him further. When I woke this morning my head was still full of hurt feelings and irritation. Pointless and not constructive, over a moment that was just a moment. So… I used the drive to the trailhead to sort of sift through my feelings, supporting my emotional needs by acknowledging my feelings and developing an understanding of why I still felt hurt, and whether that had to do with some legitimate concern needing some follow-up, or perhaps just me holding on to shit because that’s what human beings often do. Having decided it was more “just holding on to shit” than anything else, I proceeded to just let it go. Yes, there are verbs involved, but it’s quite doable to let small shit go.

It’s a new day. For me, a new day is a sort of “cheat code” for moving on from shit I’d like to let go of. It’s a nice moment that draws a sharp line between some moment and this new day unfolding ahead of me. Useful. I breathe, exhale, and relax. The foggy morning envelopes the car. I wait for day light.

My Traveling Partner greets me when he wakes. We briefly discuss errands, and my plan for the day begins to develop: a trip to the store, a stop by a local merchant on the way home, waffles for breakfast, and some time in the garden later, planting spinach starts and kitchen herbs. It sounds like a lovely day!

Foggy, but fine for walking.

… But first? A quiet walk along river and marsh on a foggy morning. Then, I’ll begin again, again. 😁

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Categories Allegories, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, The Big 5, turning 60
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