Archives for posts with tag: love and lovers
« Older Entries
Newer Entries »

My First Homecoming

August 5, 2017 //
2

I took my first trip away from the new house this week. I departed on Thursday, plans in disarray, leaving from a point on the map that wasn’t what I planned, running additional errands “on the way” at the request of my Traveling Partner, resenting the heat of the day, and feeling excited, fussy, and a bit irritable.

It got worse before it got better. The first 33 miles I drove, the traffic was terrible. The first 9 miles of the freeway portion of the drive crept by at an abysmal not-quite-10-miles-per-hour. I was tired from days without good sleep. I was irritable in the heat and frustrated by the lack of good visibility with the car loaded to the roof with gear. I was more than a little stressed out by driving all that equipment so far, while I was so tired. My foot was aching. I had a terrible headache, and my self-care had been fairly poorly handled and thoroughly compromised for days because my planning had been so completely undermined, I didn’t have time for what needed to be done. It was pretty shitty.

Every mile of highway took me closer to my Traveling Partner, and farther from thinking about my headache, or the traffic, or the cargo, or the time, or really anything else besides getting to see him and reconnect and chill together.

We had a lovely visit. It was quite nice to be a guest in his home. It was … beyond words, really, the deeply connected time we got to spend together met so many needs. 🙂 We slept together, and that, too, was a rare and special treat. It didn’t much matter how little really restful sleep I got, I spent the night cuddling with my Traveling Partner as he slept, feeling his heartbeat, listening to him breathe. I dozed on and off, and certainly got enough rest to enjoy the day that would follow. He had to work for a couple hours. I used that time to get caught up with the woman in the mirror, and check out how my old home town has grown (I went to high school there… that’s the house I lived in, it’s changed a lot… that’s where my grandfather’s office was…), meditate, and also made a run to the grocery store for my Traveling Partner.

The plan, when I arrived, was that I’d stay both Thursday and Friday night, and go out into the forest late Friday afternoon, help set up a music event, and sometime much later be around to see my Traveling Partner perform, listen to a lot of great DJs doing their thing, and then… sometime in the late afternoon on Saturday, I would return home. By the time my Traveling Partner got home from work, it was beginning to dawn on me that actually, if I followed that plan, I was going to be pushing myself up the highway late on a Saturday afternoon, on even less sleep, tired, noise-sensitive, and in pain… arriving home to face dishes in the sink (because of my rushed departure on Thursday), unprepared for the next work week, and having no time to recover before diving back into another week of working for a living before I could really take that time I need…

The more I thought that over, the less I liked it. Sure, I’d like to see my Traveling Partner perform, that would be amazing and awesome, but I’m equally certain that neither he nor I benefits from me doing so on terms that reduce my quality of life, or contribute to poor health and wellness! He’d crashed for a nap after work to prepare for the long night ahead. When he got up I let him know I was thinking about heading back a little early… He didn’t seem surprised, and was very much okay with that, himself, although we were both immediately overcome with that sad feeling that comes of being attached, and also choosing to part, however briefly. He understands my needs.

So… I came home. The drive back was as uneventful and smooth as the drive down had been fraught with peculiar stress. I made good time, and delighted myself to note that my estimated arrival time from the perspective of planning the drive was within 5 minutes of my actual arrival time. I pause in this moment, right now, and give myself time to really appreciate that feeling again.

It was still daylight when I got home. The house was comfortably cool in the summer heat of late afternoon. The squirrel was on the deck rail, and didn’t run when I opened the curtains to the deck and saw him there. There were really one 1 bowl and 2 coffee cups in the sink, and the first sound I heard after I returned home was the sound of my own merry laughter. I’d even gotten home in time to communicate my safe arrival to my Traveling Partner before he was out of touch for the night. It felt good to come home. I feel welcome here.

I feel welcome in my life.

The day stretches ahead of me. There’s quite a bit to do. Some of it is the everyday sort of stuff that lands on weekend days most of the time: housekeeping, laundry, gardening. Other stuff on my to do list lingers from the move. There are still boxes to unpack. Shelves to organize. Things to do to make this space more usably obviously my own. There’s the woman in the mirror, too, she needs a few things out of the day, herself: meditation, some time in the garden, yoga, good moment-to-moment decision-making, a bit of fun (Farmer’s Market?), and all the love and affection I can provide to her. Rest. She also needs rest, and good self-care.

The sun is up. My coffee is finished. The fresh breezes of early morning have filled the house with the scents of forest and summer flowers. My thoughts are filled with love. What a pleasant moment on which to begin the day. 🙂

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Brain Injury, Free Will, health, Healthy Living, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5, Words

This is Not a Drill!

August 3, 2017 //
0

It’s also not a long blog post.

All my planning wound up completely and utterly upended for this week – and the weekend to come. Yep. I struggle with that, sometimes moment by moment. When the first domino began to topple, my sleep went to hell. I can’t blame the heat; I have AC. Last night I went to bed quite early, and quite tired, figuring I’d “sleep in” by getting a head start…

…About 90 minutes after I fell asleep my Traveling Partner called. Once he was aware he’d woken me, he ended the call, I went back to sleep.

…Some 90 minutes after that, the door bell rang. And rang again. I got up to answer it. It was a… “wrong number” is not the right expression, but it was that situation; a stranger looking for the address next door.

…I woke early. No kidding. I could not fucking believe that shit. Stupid brain. I need more sleep.

I woke, stumbled groggily through my routine holding focus on the upcoming long drive. 250 miles. It’s “not that bad”, but the weather is hot, and the car is crammed to capacity with gear. One part of my planning that still finds me biting my nails is the part where I planned to leave from work – it’s a work day. Now the car is full of equipment…and the office is in a poor choice of neighborhood for street parking. Seriously? How much more of my planning could go wrong here?? I don’t even want to leave the car parked in my own driveway, right now!

Shit. I sip my coffee pensively feeling simultaneously annoyed and fussy, but also pleased and amused to get to use the word “pensively” in a sentence. My life. lol What to do about this journey remains a question. Take the calculated risk of parking the car as it is at the office for 4 hours or so… or take a car service to work, and then again back home, and then leave from the house?

There’s little time left to decide – and I just noticed I have not yet packed anything at all for me. I am annoyed with myself most of all for the way my self-care has completely gone to hell over some changes in a plan that I could have anticipated could not possibly hold up under the dynamic influences of feral friends and spontaneous loved ones. I knew there was little chance my planning would – or could – be respected. That I need that structure for emotional comfort and to help maintain my equilibrium and sense of order in my life (which helps manage my symptoms) isn’t even a blip on the radar of most of my friends – we are each having our own experience. I’m fortunate that generally, day-to-day, it isn’t obvious that I have mental health challenges to deal with, or a brain injury with effects that require day-to-day support and management. I guess I shouldn’t bitch about the occasional bit of upheaval or turmoil. (I’m still going to. I’m very human.)

I’ve missed the window of opportunity to do anything but drive to work. Well then. Fuck. Okay.

It’s time to go.

It’s time to begin again. 🙂

 

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Brain Injury, Free Will, Frustration, Healthy Living, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5

Pop Quiz!

August 2, 2017 //
0

Test time, Wanderer of Paths, Taker of Journeys! Life fairly screamed it my ears yesterday when my Traveling Partner reached out to me to find out if I’d found out that the original planning for the weekend had fallen through. Would I still be able to…? The exchange happened while I was also juggling a coworker’s fairly urgent question, a high priority deliverable that was due the day before, and trying to get set up for the day. The timing was inconvenient, and I managed (rather easily, actually) not to lose my shit over it. It was a lot to handle at once, and I’m not good at that (at all).

After working out new details, a new plan, making new arrangements, setting adjusted timing… the day moved on in a rather ordinary, if very busy, way. At the end of the day, I drove to pick up a friend, to pick up some gear that my Traveling Partner needs – since I’m going down to visit, anyway… Hey, look at me – I’m a roadie! lol Eventually, the car is loaded up with all of the things from a list I happily thought to request, and I’ve returned my friend home, and started driving back to my place… long day. Already later than bed time when I finally step across the threshold, and realize the car needs to be in the garage tonight, or needs to be unloaded. Fuck. So. I head to the garage, move a bunch of stuff around, put the car into the garage for the first and possibly only time and call it a night… wait, no… Shit. What about getting to work tomorrow? I’ve been relying on the car to happily avoid the blasting summer heat. That’s not going to work; I don’t feel comfortable leaving the car with the gear loaded into it parked in the neighborhood where the office is. It would be unattended, in an area known for car break-ins. Shit. Fuck. Damn it. All the swears.

So this morning, the alarm clock drags me groggily from less than 5 hours of sleep. I need to do better tonight; it’s a long drive tomorrow. I feel a deep down snarl sort of half-formed swirling around in my consciousness. I dislike having my plans upended so firmly, and being faced with “choices” that feel forced on me. I’ll ride the bus today, leave the car in the garage… short evening. Hot bus ride home. Bit of a walk on the sore foot, in the heat, to get home. It’s not at all what I’d planned for myself this week by way of “self-care”, and I’m sort of quietly seething about it, with no outlet. I meant to wash the car last night – ended up spending the evening making pick up on a car load of gear. Now the car is loaded… still needs to be washed before the trip. I’d meant to get the oil changed. I haven’t the time now. I feel tension and anxiety competing for attention with my basically good mood quietly not interfering.

I begin again a number of times this morning. I pause to breathe. I’m eager to see my Traveling Partner, and getting to do so makes all the rest worthwhile. I haven’t yet figured out how I am also supposed to have (find, make, take…) the time to take care of myself…? It’s like an elaborate practical joke where the punchline is “you weren’t paying attention to the road because you’re exhausted and freaked out – and now you’re dead!!” (Which is what most of my nightmares last night were about, actually.) I guess it is progress that at least I am actually thinking about caring for myself well, even if my actual results vary rather substantially from that goal, this week.

I sip my coffee and chuckle to myself, “damn, this better be a good fucking visit!” and laugh quietly out loud in the stillness of morning. Of course, it will be. 🙂

I look at the time. Fuck, I’ve probably missed that early bus I’d intended to take… so… freak out? Or… don’t give a fuck? I’ll probably land somewhere in between, biting my nails on the way to work, arriving in plenty of time. At any rate… I guess I’ll be giving beginning again another shot this morning. lol My results vary. It’s not unexpected. I’m having my own experience.  🙂

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories anger, Anxiety, Brain Injury, Free Will, Frustration, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, loneliness, Love, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5

Mixed Emotions

July 26, 2017 //
0

Peculiar morning. I woke from a sound sleep to the message from my Traveling Partner letting me know he is safely home. I felt okay when I woke… not “merry” or overly enthused, but calm and content, certainly. My emotions have shifted and boiled up since then, mixing, shifting, seeming detached from any specific circumstances. Moments of deep love, poignant moments of almost-grief, a lingering vague sadness, a certain tinge of disappointed bitterness with edges gilded in cynicism – variety, this morning, a sampler of feelings lacking in context. No point to be made. No knowledge to be gained. Random emotions in the hours after waking, only.

Last year a morning like this would drive me to my meditation cushion, seeking solace and self-soothing. Two years ago, maybe three, I’d have been feeling low over it, pensive and moody, wondering “what it all means”, but diligently avoiding becoming fused with the emotions, and putting a lot of effort into being present in the moment. 5 years ago, a morning like this one would have found me weeping quietly behind a closed door, frightened of shadows, certain there was no emotionally safe place to turn, filled with despair, and enraged that “it’s all happening again and I can’t make it stop!!” – and not sure what exactly I meant by any of that.

This morning I am a calm observer of my emotions as they ebb and flow, passing through me, sweeping over me, arriving, and then also departing. “This too shall pass” is pretty much approximately always a true statement, whatever the circumstances, if only I can allow it to be so. I open windows to let in the breezes. I enjoy my coffee as day begins to break. I watch dawn arrive from the deck, bare feet on wood, the hair on my arms raised in the pre-dawn chill. I meditate. I have my oatmeal for breakfast. I do my physical therapy stuff. I water the patio garden as the sky begins to lighten from pale to more obviously blue. This is my life, emotions and all. I am okay with that, and with them.

It’s a strangely emotional morning, though. No obvious cause and effect – that’s hard for me, because as human primates are often inclined to do, I really want my emotions to “make sense”, even though “making sense” and being “reasonable” are not their role. I am human, very, and both emotion and reason are part of that experience. I find that some of the power of emotional experiences is lost if I force some kind of rationalized context on them, instead of simply feeling my feelings. So this morning I am feeling things. I wasn’t expecting such a morning, or planning on it, and I don’t know where it may lead or what the day looks like if filled with such experiences.

“Emotion and Reason” 18″ x 24″ acrylic w/ceramic and glow details

I hear vehicles passing by. Some slow down near the cross-street nearest my driveway. My heart jumps each time – is it him? Each time, I feel that it could be my Traveling Partner. My emotions reach my consciousness first. Reason politely points out that although it is physically within the realm of possibilities that he could indeed have immediately gone from his RV to the SUV and headed this way, arriving here sometime around now-ish, it’s really not likely – he just finished driving hundreds of miles through the night, arrived home safely – and tired – and more probably is now soundly asleep. That’s “reasonable”. Reason gets to the party a little later than emotion does. How much fucking drama does that timing cause humanity day-to-day? I smile and sip my coffee. It’s nice to have the practical example in the moment.

Here. Now.

Pink clouds against a blue sky as the sun begins to edge over the unseen horizon. I know the sun is there, though I can’t see it. Peering at my life through my emotions is a little like that, this morning; I have reason, waiting in the background like that unseen sunrise, but for now what I see are those pink clouds of emotion, reflecting facets of what is, all colored up and altered, changing with the light as the sun does rise. Eventually, day light. Eventually, emotion and reason in balance, awake, and aware.

Strange morning. I have time for another cup of coffee. I have time to begin again.

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories art and the artist, Brain Injury, Free Will, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress

Rest, Also a Thing I Need

July 24, 2017 //
0

I got home last night and stepped across the threshold still feeling a fairly firm commitment to work on my list of things to do. Moving in isn’t completed, really, until everything on the list is done. I sat and stared blankly at that list for a while. I had a shower. I came back to the list. I sat quietly awhile longer.

I mostly just sat quietly for rather a long while. I wasn’t even meditating, just… sitting. I found myself so disinclined to actually do anything that it was a major effort to figure out salad and a glass of water. It felt like real work to write an email to a dear friend. I did more sitting.

At some point it dawned on me (because even my thinking felt seriously slowed down) that I must actually just be that tired. As in, needing rest. Real rest. Not “failed action” or succumbing to exhaustion, but actual self-care-involving real legitimate uncompromised rest.

My evening became a lavish delight of the restful variety; I relaxed and looked out over the deck from my air conditioned vantage point. I watched fish swim in the aquarium. I read awhile – a favorite fiction novel that I can quite contentedly pick up or put down any time, at any point in the story, and enjoy myself quite thoroughly. Even meditation seemed like more effort than I could comfortably manage, yesterday evening, so I simply took gentle care of this fragile vessel and enjoyed a quiet evening of… quiet. I even went to bed a little early. It is telling of how much I did need some real rest that I fell asleep almost immediately, in spite of the earliness of the hour, and slept straight through to my alarm clock going off in the morning, quite dreamlessly.

At some point, much earlier in the day yesterday, I enjoyed a long phone call with my Traveling Partner. He’ll be heading home soon, and I will see him, and he will see the new place, and then –  far sooner than ideal, I’m sure – he’ll head out for the next thing out there on the future’s horizon. I’m eager to see him. Hell, I’m excited for him about the next adventure, too, although it will take him some distance away for a time. Neither the distance nor the time seem to undermine our connection. (There are verbs involved there, of course, and practices for maintaining emotional intimacy, managing self-care, and avoiding needless drama – and certainly, results vary from time to time, but… Love. My perspective is that loving is a verb, not a gift to be received, or expected, nor a resource to be mined, or wasted – everyone involved has to do the verbs, or Love withers, unsupported, un-nourished.) It will be a fun homecoming; I am excited to show him around the new place.

I sip my coffee, feeling the tug of a contented smile pulling on my face. Monday morning, the sky becoming light with a new day, just beyond the hedge. Today I’ll try the bus commute on for size. I haven’t yet switched over to a parking pass, still looking at my budget and making the necessary decisions about my commute – both the time and the money are factors to consider, and ease, and convenience, and reliability, and whether it will be miserable, comfortable, or fun. This is my life. Those details matter.  My Traveling Partner was right, though (as if he’s not right often enough!); I am pleased to have the choices in front of me, and it has been incredibly helpful to have the car – especially after I broke my foot! lol

I look around the studio at the managed chaos and disarray – it’s hardly a space I could paint in, as it is. There are paintings stacked everywhere, mostly by size. The hardest part of moving in is hanging art; every place is different, and wants different things on the walls. Each installation is new, and individual. The window looks out on the dawn, and reflects back at me those stacks of paintings, as if to suggest the future is just beyond those stacks of paintings that are waiting to be hung, stored, or sold. It’s a new dawn, a new day, a new life for me… and I’m feeling good.

“Beauty is everywhere” quote and photo by Thomas Harwood, 2017

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Brain Injury, Healthy Living, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Summer, The Art of Being
« Older Entries
Newer Entries »