I’m sipping my coffee and beginning a new day. I got a good night’s rest, which I definitely needed, and I woke in a better mood than I was in yesterday. I’m grateful for the opportunity to reset and begin anew. The sunrise as I drove in was lovely, and the song in my head was “so loud” I finally had to put it on and just listen to it. The morning feels “infused with joy”, which is a much nicer start to the day than what yesterday had offered.
Perspective matters.
I stretch and sigh, breathe, exhale, and relax. A new day, eh? I wonder what I will do with it? Will I deliver on my commitment to myself to do just a little better at being the woman I most want to be than I did yesterday? Seems a worthy goal.
…It’s easier to make excuses than it is to practice being the person I most want to be…
The coffee is good this morning. I feel pretty well-rested and comfortable in my skin. I have a vague sense that there’s something I am supposed to do, or some errand I agreed to run, later today – but I can’t recall what it was, and I’m not certain it isn’t just some lingering artifact of various conversations about “we could do this or we could do that”. I remind myself to check with my Traveling Partner about whether he needs me to go somewhere or do something for him later today, then let the nagging sensation go in favor of focusing on this moment, now.
…He’s not even 37 miles away, but it may as well be an infinite distance viewed through the lens of how much I miss my Traveling Partner when I’m in the office. lol I’m looking forward to working from home tomorrow, leading into the weekend. I’ve got some camping preparations to make, gear to pack – Sunday I’ll head into the trees for a couple days of downtime along the Clackamas River. I’m looking forward to it. I know I’ll miss my partner even more, but I also know he’ll only ever be a short drive away, and within reach via text message, which is comforting. This downtime is important self-care, and I’m a better person generally when I get the solitary time I need. It’s a new spot for me, too – very exciting. Lots of new trails to wander, exploring the sights and my thoughts as I walk.
I breathe, exhale, and relax. I enjoy planning my upcoming camping trips, but it hardly counts as “being in the moment”. lol I pull myself back to now, because it’s already time to begin again.
Seems to be very effective so far… probably doesn’t hurt that the path is mine, and that I choose it myself.
I’m sipping my coffee and looking out the window on a gray, somewhat rainy, morning. It rained all the way to the office, although calling it “rain” may stretch the point a bit; it was more of a sprinkle, but steady, occasionally becoming a brief shower. I enjoy summer rains. The fragrance is amazing. My back doesn’t care for them so much, the pain of my arthritis is similarly “amazing”, at least as a measure of severity. lol
What a lovely productive weekend. I reflect on the time spent in my Traveling Partner’s good company. There were occasional moments of discord, “wrong notes” in our otherwise lovely symphony. I’m okay with it – there’s gonna be a little rain now and then, however pleasant the climate, in most circumstances. It wasn’t even anything that amounts to a big deal, just little moments where we were ever so slightly “out of step” with each other, and moments when I took some little thing personally that wasn’t at all. It’s quite possible that I was simply cranky because the timing of my Ozempic was a little off due to the kerfufle with the fucking pharmacy and the lack of reliable availability of this medication. When things went a little awry, we made suitable apologies and took steps to restore harmony, though the evening seemed to end on a somewhat frosty note. Here too, I think it’s likely just me, reading something into the circumstances that maybe isn’t there at all. Small stuff can stay small, not gonna worry about something that likely doesn’t need that kind of “cling wrap” – no reason to keep it fresh. lol
Another Monday. 24 left in this calendar year. The time is passing quickly. I breathe, exhale, and relax, and prepare for a new day. I’ve got an errand to run after work that will take me down the commuter-crowded highways and freeways, about an hour in traffic, then turn around and make the longer-still trip home for the evening. It’ll be a long day. My Traveling Partner needs some shelving for a project, and honestly I’m so happy to see him back on his feet doing projects that I’m happy to run errands to keep that going for him. Then I remember the huge box full of styrofoam forms that is in the back of my car waiting to go to the drop-off point for such items, and wonder if I can even get the shelves into the car… I sigh to myself, and go to the website to have a look at the dimensions. I’d rather not even bother my beloved with my sudden doubts, and I have the resources to sort it out myself. Shit. I need the entire cargo space. What to do about the damned box now that I’m already at the office? Another sigh. I feel more than a little stupid not to have remembered the box while I was home, I could have just unloaded it. (Would it be reasonable to do that here, at the office, and then put it back in the car tomorrow?) (I can’t even inquire until much later; I’m alone in the office until after 09:00 a.m. most days.)
I sip my coffee, distracted by the practical details of an errand that doesn’t even become “a thing” until later today. Aren’t human beings strange creatures? We struggle to let things go once we’ve turned our attention to them (at least I do), even when there is no immediate need to sort things out. The only reason this fucking box is even in the car instead of already gone is that it is for an appliance we have not decided yet to keep. (Difficult to return without the packaging!) Another sigh. It’s a small problem to solve, and if I keep fussing over it I’ll neither solve it (reasons) nor enjoy my peaceful morning moment (due to not being able to solve it or let it go). Fucking primate brain. I chuckle to myself and look out on the rainy morning.
Gosh I hope my Traveling Partner has a good day today! He’s got a lot going on with his current project to rearrange his work and personal spaces to better suit his current needs. It requires quite a lot of moving of furniture and some heavy objects from where they sit to a different location, and of course all the smaller items that fit into or on those heavier pieces have to be moved first (and then again, last). It’s a lot to tackle. Over the weekend, I helped as much as I could, when asked. I also know doing the work himself is meaningful for my partner. There’s a balance to strike, and I often struggle with that sort of thing. Good practice, I guess. I sip my coffee thinking about love and partnership. And peaches. For some reason I am also thinking about peaches. lol
The rain spatters the window. My email pings me. It’s a new day and time to begin again.
I’m sipping my coffee as the day begins. My walk this morning was pleasant, uneventful, and frankly rather ordinary. The day is cloudy, and looks like rain. I’m in a thoroughly manageable amount of pain (for now), and I make a point of appreciating how (relatively) comfortable I am. In a life where chronic pain is a day-to-day experience, it is critical to really pause and be aware of it when pain is not a characteristic of the moment. Most of us don’t actually experience “chronic pain” as 100% of always every moment of every day all the time – it does come and go, and the severity varies. Our implicit memory and sense of “how things are” is notably affected by what we hold on to as “how we always feel” – so making room to be mindful and aware of a lack of pain becomes incredibly important for managing the whole experience of pain over time. Perspective matters. So, I sip my coffee, noticing how (relatively) little pain I am in right now, and make room for gratitude; it could be so much worse (and often is).
I breathe, exhale, and relax. I think about sunrises and sunsets, and views of distant horizons. I think about miles I have not yet walked, and contemplate trails I’ve yet to try. I think about camping, and I wonder when I might next spend a couple days on the coast, painting. I sip my coffee, and let my diffuse feeling of general contentment grow larger in my awareness. My eye falls on a small Hue Forge “painting” my Traveling Partner did from a photograph I’d taken. I feel loved and visible and appreciated as a person, as an artist, and as a partner.
Hue Forge rendering of a sunrise, Mt Hood silhoutted on the horizon.
That distant horizon is a good metaphor for goals and progress and walking my own path; there it is, just out of reach, that thing I think I want to get to. A goal, a vision, a destination – it could be any of those things, or just a place to camp that happens to be within view, but quite far away. What’s on the horizon? I never actually know, I only imagine, based on what I think I see. I have an idea, and a limited view. The closer that thing seems to get, the more detailed and real it may become – but it changes as it comes into closer view, more subject to scrutiny. Is it what I imagined? Is it actually what I want? Am I actually going to get “there” – or is that “there” quite different than I expected it might be? Am I being true to myself, and staying on my path, or has something fantastical on that distant horizon distracted me from my sense of purpose? Is it even real, or only something I thought I saw?
I sip my coffee feeling surprisingly content with “now”. Nice moment for it. Sure, the work day is ahead, but I don’t find that I mind. I’m fortunate to have a job I enjoy, working with a team of people I appreciate and respect (and even like), I feel appreciated in return. We get shit done. I’m working from home, which has the lovely quality of taking my breaks in my garden, or being able to run a quick errand during the day, and not finding myself quite so exhausted when the day finally ends. Nice “now” – I feel fortunate, and pause for gratitude; this too could be so much worse. Most of us do have to work to keep the bills paid and the pantry stocked, and it’s a difficult world. It’s not uncommon to have to endure a terrible work environment in servitude to a company whose values one can’t respect, simply to keep the lights on and the gas tank filled. It’s a lucky few who do jobs they love for companies they appreciate in an environment of mutual respect while being paid a good wage. If you’ve got it, be sure you appreciate it. Change is. Be kind to those who struggle with shit jobs for terrible bosses – it could be you at some point.
…Good cup of coffee…
My Traveling Partner gave me an early birthday gift last night. A new cookbook, and one that I’d spotted thinking “oooh, I’d like to have this one!” quite recently. I thought I’d added it to my wishlist, and was delighted that he had selected it. More delighted still – and a little amazed – when I discovered that I had not added it to my list at all. He knows me so well. I feel loved. This morning when my mind wanders, it is often to the kitchen, and thinking about what new adventures I may find there, between the pages of a new cookbook. 😀
Life can be experienced as a journey. I find it a useful metaphor. No map, lots of choices, and the path is mine to choose for myself. The horizon never really gets any closer – but it’s out there in the distance, tempting me onward. It’s a worthy journey – each step down the path has the potential to reveal some new delight, or to teach me a lesson I probably need to learn. We are mortal creatures – at some point, this journey will come to an end. Hopefully, I’ve learned all I could, experienced much worth sharing, and made a point to jot down some notes for anyone who may follow me down the trail (or simply wonders where I wandered off to).
I glance at the time. The clock is always ticking, and there are things to be done. It’s time, again, to begin.
I’m sipping my coffee and thinking about favorite characters in books, movies, and anime, and what it takes to write a good character, and how the “story arc” of a truly great character pulls me in and gets me invested in the character. I’m thinking about why a good character matters so much. I’m reviewing my own life through the lens of character development, and this journey that is life itself. I’m just one woman, living one mortal lifetime, and honestly I see myself (now) as relatively ordinary in nearly every way. That wasn’t always the case. Dunning and Kruger will have their way with us all. lol When I was young, lacking in life experience, and prone to very poor decision-making, I thought I was the absolute center of my universe, the Big Bad, the main character in every story, and the best choice of human voice to say “all the things”… I was quite mistaken. I grew out of it. lol Reality does not care what I believe.
…Ordinary is okay, nothing wrong with it. “On the average, things are average.” – I’d attribute the quote, but I don’t know who said that (it wasn’t me). I’m not dismissing or discouraging aspirational goals or pursuing one’s ambitions, I’m just saying human primates have a tendency toward grandiosity (whether private or explicitly stated), and we’re mostly just… primates. Fancy fucking big-brain-having apes, that have chosen to build and to make, and have learned to wear clothing and how to set themselves up for elaborate failures. Hell, I’m not even saying so to provoke any sort of change – I’m just pointing out this thing I am observing, while character and character development are on my mind (for no particular reason). I’m not meaning to be at all discouraging of whatever you may be seeking to do or to change, just saying generally we can expect most things, most of the time, to be completely… insignificant and ordinary… in most regards. Our individual epiphanies and fantastic ideas are often pretty illuminations of ideas someone else has already put forth elsewhere, before it came to us. Our triumphs are often held in common with the triumphs of others rather like us. Few of us as mortal human primates stand out in any particular way, good or evil. A small handful do – often in the worst possible ways – but seriously, most of us just don’t, and that’s actually just fine.
Do you earnestly truly need to change the world and need to be known for some special something? I can tell you how! Be remembered. Sounds easy, and surely there are a number of ways to go about it, if you’ve just got to have it. If you are more particular than that, and want most to be known and celebrated for actually helping make the world a better place for humanity, this one is more difficult, but built on the same principles – you simply have to be much more selective about what you do that comes to define you and what you are known for. What do you want to be known for? How do you want to be remembered? If you were reading your life as a story, a novel, or a screenplay, what would be the pinnacle achievement that shows you have grown, and how you have successfully made the world a better place? Can you get there, realistically? Authentically? Ethically? What would your path need to be? What experiences would you have to seek and submit to? What would you change about who you are? You can get started any time…
…Where does your path lead?..
…We become what (and who) we practice.
I sip my coffee and think about my journey over the past 62 years, but more specifically how far I’ve come over the past 15 years. It still astonishes me that I had made so little progress toward bettering myself in my first 47 years – that’s a long damned time to fuck about being a rather terrible person lacking in goals or firm ethical grounding, mostly mired in chaos and damage, and definitely struggling just to survive. I did an unfortunately adequate job of masking a lot of that, and giving a decent appearance of being… decent. I mostly just stepped very carefully around the wreckage within, and did what I could to protect those I cared about from my madness and my inner demons. I lacked trust in anyone’s affection for me, most especially my own. I needed help – a lot of it – and some lucky breaks – and I definitely did not know how to get there from where I stood then. “Here” wasn’t even a place I could envision, then.
One of my luckiest breaks was developing a friendship with the man who would eventually become my beloved Traveling Partner. Life changed enough in some small way that my sense of self was changed, too. That mattered more than I could know at the time, and it took me a long way on a new path. My perspective on life changed. It wasn’t “everything”, but it was a good beginning. A new beginning, and the start of a willingness to consider change with greater comfort, and even to embrace it and to seek it. I began asking new questions. I began considering myself as something other than my own worst enemy. I stopped treating myself as though I somehow deserved the lifetime of trauma I had endured. I still needed help, and I sought it out. I began looking at myself in a new mirror, “changing my dictionary”, and using a new map – one I was creating myself. I stopped allowing the world to tell me who I was, and began working to become the woman I most wanted to be – for love. Now I pursue these things because they are the path I choose. (It helped to have profound inspiration to inspire a new beginning though, not gonna lie.)
Note: it doesn’t require a great and inspiring love affair to embrace change, to experience epiphany or enlightenment, or to choose to walk your own path, just happens to be what got me there.
Another perspective on love – and character building.
I’m not certain why these things are on my mind this morning. Maybe because my birthday is getting closer, and I’m often self-reflective and introspective around this time? Maybe because things have been so good with my Traveling Partner, lately, that I drove in to the office feeling pangs of “separation anxiety” in a way that I tend to associate with “new love”? I smile at the new Hue Forge image he made for me over the weekend – an early birthday gift – a favorite anime character, Dandy, from the anime Space Dandy. My Traveling Partner also 3D printed me another hydroponic tower garden, which I assembled on the deck (this one is mostly filled with strawberry seedlings). I feel very loved. I smile and sip my coffee, sitting with my contentment and joy, and reflecting on how far I’ve come in 15 years. It’s been a sometimes slow-feeling journey – incremental change over time often feels very slow – but it’s my own, and I’m okay with where I am this morning, compared to where I was on any Monday morning 15+ years ago. 😀
Love blooming in my garden; “Rainbow Happy Trails” and “Whimsy”.
I sigh and smile. I feel pretty good this morning, and I’m eager to face the day, and return home to my beloved. We plan to cook dinner together this evening – an experience we’ve been enjoying together. I feel fortunate and grateful, and I sit with those feelings awhile, watching the sun rise beyond the window of the office, and sipping my coffee. It’s not fancy, this experience. It’s not extraordinary – it is, in most regards, quite ordinary. That’s okay – better than okay – it’s the experience I’ve chosen, and a moment in a life I am enjoying, on a path I’ve chosen to walk. Am I changing the world? Not in any particularly obvious way, but I’m changing my wee corner of it in small ways, every day, working to become the woman I most want to be, living a life I can look back on with a measure of satisfaction, and a sense that I am doing better today, than I did yesterday, by every measure that counts for me, personally. I have a sense of who I am, and who I want to be – and that counts for so much more than I understood it could, 15 years ago.
What does it take to become the person you most want to be? A commitment to character building over time, perhaps? A willingness to begin again, many times, over years, definitely. Some frankness when facing the mirror certainly helps. The clock is ticking. Embrace change. Become the person you most want to be! You can begin again, any time.
Cloudy morning. The deep dark green of the oaks dressed in Spring foliage dominate the view as I set off down the trail this morning. My head is full of vaguely grim musings, like “how many more sunrises?” And whether or not human life is sustainable on this planet at all, or how many idiots it takes to destroy democracy as astonished others watch it fall? My head aches. I woke with the headache and my tinnitus loud in my ears. I walk anyway.
Oaks along a well-maintained local trail, on s gray Spring morning.
It’s a workday. For some reason I feel cross and moody every time I think about my upcoming birthday. I don’t know what to do about my moody bullshit, but I guess I know more or less where it comes from. Change. I feel childish and stupidly emotional over it. Change is, and there are much more serious things going on in the world to be moody about than the details vexing me now. I’m just still dealing with it, I guess.
In spite of making tremendous progress recovering from his injury and the surgery that followed, my Traveling Partner, my beloved, is still healing, adapting, and working to recover skills and mobility that were lost or impaired. (We made dinner together last night and it was wonderful to see him back in the kitchen, cooking!) I’m incredibly impressed and proud of him for the sheer will and commitment he’s shown. I know how hard it is; I’ve been there (though I was in my 20’s when I broke my back, and that’s a very different age to deal with such a thing). So I want to be clear about my angsty nonsense; it’s not about him, or in fact about the current circumstances. Not really.
Love matters most.
I catch myself thinking about my 60th birthday. We’d just gotten the Ridgeline, and we were happily purposeful and excited, and eagerly exploring the local wilds together. The physical intimacy in our relationship was connected, deep, and joyful, and we “had the house to ourselves”. Him getting hurt wasn’t even on our radar. A year later, my birthday was mostly caregiving and preparing for his surgery with him, and doing the needful to help the Anxious Adventurer relocate to move in and give us a hand with all that, whatever he could while also building a life here for himself and working. Then another 6 months or so of crazy intense caregiving that exhausted me and pushed me to limits I didn’t know I have, before my beloved really started to “be himself” again. I’m not complaining. I’m just saying that these are the circumstances and changes that brought me to this weird and moody place, facing a birthday I mostly wouldn’t care much about under other circumstances. 62? Not even a milestone (and I don’t “feel old”, generally speaking, in spite of chronic pain). I just have feelings. Very human. I don’t know what to do with or about this particular birthday. I simultaneously ache with poignant feelings of loss and strange regrets, and also don’t give a fuck and want to put it behind me.
I have planned taking the week after my birthday off work, but I have no actual plans. It’s just all really weird and the emotions have piled on, and I’m having trouble sorting myself out. It’s annoying.
“Emotion and Reason” 18″ x 24″ acrylic w/ceramic and glow details, 2012
I breathe, exhale, and relax. There’s so much to appreciate and to be grateful for. I focus on that as I sit at my halfway point, writing and reflecting. Things could be much worse. Change is, and this too will pass. I can count on that. lol I will find small joys to help me past blue moments. The clock will tick on, regardless. A week off spent sleeping in, painting, and puttering in my garden, reading books, and walking local trails, is time well-spent and needs no elaborate planning at all. It’s even enough, truly. Ah, but I do have these feelings, and the way out is reliably through – so I give myself room to experience and process my emotions, without taking them personally. Just feeling the feelings and reflecting on those. They’ll pass. They’re only emotions after all, not truths, not requirements, just their own sort of experience. I give myself a break and let them come and go like gray clouds on a Spring morning; yes, they appear to cover the entire sky, but they will move on, and there is blue sky beyond.
… Clouds make a nice metaphor for emotions…
I smile to myself. I’m okay for most values of “okay”, and this is a good life. I am indeed fortunate. Emotions are so very human. I sigh and chuckle to myself as I get to my feet and stretch. This path won’t walk itself. There are practices to practice and the clock ticks on. It’s time to begin again.
Evening Light 