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Holding Onto Progress

March 23, 2023 //
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I’m packed. It’s time to head home. It’s been meaningful time, well-spent on self-reflection, meditation, and watching the tides come and go. It was a lovely way to celebrate the arrival of Spring. I enjoyed some eye-opening moments, and end these days feeling that progress has been made…

…Now, how do I hold on to that progress?

Here’s the simple truth of it; we become what we practice. No matter how frequent or profound the epiphanies may be, if I don’t put what I’ve learned or observed into actual practice (thus, reinforcing what has been learned), it doesn’t change a fucking thing. So. There’s that. My results will vary. There are verbs involved. I’ll need to keep practicing. 🙂 Those are the basics of making a change.

I’ll say more about specifics over the next few days – I’m on vacation all week. This first piece was time spent with the woman in the mirror. Self-care. The next few days will be in the company of my partner, living my practices, and continuing to enjoy some down time. It’s a lovely plan.

I look around this room again. Have I forgotten anything? Seems not. I know me; I will check every cabinet, cupboard, and drawer once more before I go. lol (Just being thorough.)

Restless night. The occupant of the room next to mine left their bathroom fan running literally all night, until they had a massive loud argument around 0500. I was not ready to get up for the day, and so did not, but I had my hand on the phone to call 911, since the noises from the room next door suggested it may be necessary. Things went very quiet after a single door-slam, one occupant leaving the room to the other. The rain started to fall during the night. I got a pleasant walk in, during a break in the rain, when I got up shortly before 0700.

The restless night did not diminish my feeling of being rested or “topped off” – that previously emptied glass is refilled, and I sip my coffee, contentedly, smiling. Packing completed, it’s time to load up the car, check out, and head home. 😀 Time to begin again. 😀

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being

What It Looks Like, What It Is

March 22, 2023 //
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Appearances are funny things, aren’t they? I’m sipping my morning coffee late into the morning, because, honestly, why not? I am “on vacation”, taking some solo time on the coast to meditate, reflect, read, write, and walk. I’ve gotten some good pictures.

I am, in this moment right here, watching the tide turn from the low a short while ago, reversing direction, and now flowing back, with high tide expected at 13:48 this afternoon. Low tide reveals the mud flats of Siletz Bay, enjoyed by the many sea birds that inhabit the area. The birds traverse the mud flats in flocks and individually, seeking tasty morsels in the mud. People watching the birds (and the tides) walk the adjacent beach (and in some cases, right on across the mud flats, too), sometimes alone, sometimes with children or dogs.

Siletz Bay at low tide.

Funny that the water of the nearby branch of Drift Creek seems to flow backwards as the tide turns. Instead of subtle waves that demonstrate the direction that the creek flows into the bay, then on to the ocean just beyond (visible from my balcony), now the waves suggest that the water is flowing upstream… and… I guess it is, at least in the sense that the tide has turned and is now returning the waters to the bay that flowed outward only a few hours ago. My eyes deceive me just a bit; intellectually, I am confident that the creek continues to flow into the bay, and on to the sea, I just can’t see that it is happening, due to tricks of the light on the surface of the water showing me only the most surface movement, which is definitely the tide coming in.

What is “the truth of it”? Well, the bay is refilling as the tide comes in. That’s true. The creek continues to flow from it’s source into the sea. Also true. The tide comes in, the tide goes out, in a very regular predictable way – another truth. I value these small points of certainty in a very uncertain world. Ducks, geese, gulls, herons, and cranes enjoy the shallow waters. I enjoy them as they do. It feels rather as if even the joy itself …flows.

It’s been a lovely couple of quiet days here alone at the beach. This funny somewhat run-down hotel I favor here gives me the room for solitude that I need. They’re very accommodating and appreciative any time I come for a stay. This room is my “new favorite”… Room 310. It’s long past its glory. The upholstery is faded, worn, and dingy – threadbare in places, and of a tired sort of green that doesn’t hide dirt well. The carpet is also worn. The wood furniture is chipped, dinged, and shows signs of age and mistreatment over many years of guests. The walls have been repaired in places, and there are places on the ceiling that hint at past flooding from above. It’s a funny room with a wedge-shaped layout that is a bit more spacious than most rooms here. The small bathroom reflected the care taken by the staff; so clean it almost seems to belong in some other hotel, newer, more modern, perhaps. I feel lucky that the mini-fridge is not noisy (they usually are). This room also has “more view”, with one big window facing the bay, and then the balcony facing the ocean. Lovely. The views are spectacular and have occupied my attention thoroughly.

My days are filled with walking the beach here at the foot of the hotel, and sitting on the balcony, or at the table by the window, meditating, and bird-watching. My head is filled with my own thoughts – and the quiet of wind and waves, and the calls of gulls filling the silence. Pleasant. I could come here often and never get bored. I don’t need much more out of this experience than I am getting; it’s the solitude that I was seeking, and I definitely found it here.

I could have written more. Didn’t. I’ve been content to spend the days in quiet reflection, absorbed in my own thoughts, on my own time. It’s been enough. More than enough; it’s what I needed.

I watch the water continue to slowly fill the bay as the tide comes in. The pattern of sand, mud, water, and waves changes with each tide. It’s interesting to watch, and to note the variations. I find myself wondering, if I sat here by this window watching long enough, would I see the pattern repeat at some point? Are the variations finite? As the bay fills, I see seals in the deeper areas, playfully enjoying a swim. There’s a sandy bar on which they gather to rest and soak up the sun, across the inlet to the bay from the beach where local fishers like to go. The seals and gulls compete with the fishers for the various fish and crabs that are so desirable. It’s a popular spot. Early in the mornings, I walk down the beach in the direction of the inlet, and the ocean, listening to the waves roll in. In the afternoons, I take the same (or similar) walk. It’s convenient to the hotel, and the variety that comes of weather and the passage of time is enough to entertain me endlessly. I’m certainly a long way from being at all concerned about “boredom”. lol

The ocean, visible just beyond the inlet to the bay.

…Tomorrow I return home…

…For now, there’s still today.

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being

Breathe, Exhale, Relax

March 10, 2023 //
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Another morning. Another Friday. Another cup of coffee. 😀

I sat down with other thoughts, but as the minutes passed my thoughts just sort of … dissipated. I’m left with this pleasant quiet moment and this cup of coffee. It’s enough. I feel contented, and I am safe and warm inside, while a strangely snowy rain falls steadily outside.

I woke too early. Headed to the co-work space early. I was hopeful my Traveling Partner would be able to get some additional rest (he was already up when I woke), but based on the continued conversation via text, I guess he was not able to go back to sleep. I sip my coffee hoping he has at least had enough rest to support the needs of his day. I’m tired, but not groggy (which is nice), and I would have happily gone back to sleep after getting up to pee at 04:25, but his audible exclamation of relief that I was “finally” up fueled a decision to, instead, properly get my day started a bit early. I’m not cross about it; should be a short day, today.

I think about the weekend ahead. What will I do with it? What will we do with it together? Sunday evening I’ll head into the city for a work “on site” event that spans a couple days, before returning home Wednesday. The week after that I’ve got a couple days on the coast planned. I find myself hoping he is easily able to sleep while I’m gone.

My back aches from the cold chilly weather. My face hurts because my occipital neuralgia has flared up. My head aches, but, honestly, when doesn’t it? It’s all just physical pain. Noise. I breathe, exhale, and relax – which rarely seems to actually reduce the pain I’m in, but sometimes does sort of “push it off to the side” and render it rather harmless. I take time to meditate. Do some yoga. I feel ready for the day ahead. It’s a good feeling.

I yawn and queue up a study playlist – maybe this week I’ll take my next certification exam? Life itself doesn’t give us many “credentials” for basic adulting or successfully thriving… but “credentials” are out there for the taking, on a wide variety of topics and skills, in many areas of human endeavor. Feel like you need one? Go get it! Do the coursework. Do the study. Take the test(s). Looks great on a resume – and feels pretty good to complete. 😀 What are you interested in? Are you learning that? If not, why not? What are you waiting for? You’ve got the entire internet in front of you and you’re sitting here with me? Ready this? I promise you my feelings will not be hurt if you choose, instead, to go learn something that could have a significant payoff in skills, ease, or enjoyment of life – or even money. lol Do you.

The day begins to break through the pre-dawn gloom. It’s snowing now (again). The sky is gray. It’s time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, The Art of Being, winter

Sorting Shit Out

March 5, 2023 //
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I’m awake brutally early on a Sunday morning. I’m in the co-work space I sometimes work from, drinking bad office coffee and feeling sad.

My Traveling Partner woke me abruptly, shortly after 0400, poking me and sharing his frustration by way of swearing at me. Something about my sleep (or lack of it) or breathing (or lack of it) or snoring was keeping him awake, and he’d finally had it with that, and woke me. Actually, he asked me to turn over, which is reasonable. The poke and the hostile frustrated tone woke me thoroughly. I wasn’t going to go back to sleep after that, and I was laying in the dark for a moment, contemplating maybe just getting up and what to do next, when my partner reappeared in the doorway and made a point of telling me more about his experience. The additional emotional load was too much for so early, and tears started to slide down my unprepared-for-this face.

I got up and started dressing. No way I seriously wanted to start my day this way. I also did not feel up to sticking around for more. He‘d have some chance of getting more sleep, perhaps, if I weren’t hanging about stewing over my “wake up call”. It made the choice to leave the house at that dismal hour a fairly easy one.

So, here I am. Bad coffee. Early hour. Dealing with it.

My Karma must be sooooo fucking bad… I mean, for real?

This morning this co-work space is my version of a mundane hell. I’ve got the solitude I so often crave, sure… but… there’s no potential for actual sleep, and I’m so tired (I did not sleep well last night), and the muzak in the background is pretty dreadful. Plenty of coffee – and it’s terrible. I dunno that I “deserve” this… I manage to be grateful for this place and time; it could be worse. It’s been worse, other times, other places, other relationships, and having a place to go to, when I need to walk away is a major improvement in my quality of life, generally.

Maybe that’s the lesson on this one? That there is generally an alternative to our misery, when we can accept it, or choose it, and that “grateful” is a path to a better emotional place…? Maybe there’s no lesson… just a woman, a laptop, a quiet place to write, and some sorrows?

I slept poorly last night. I’m grateful for the sleep I got.

I sit here drinking coffee and… seething quietly. I’m annoyed to be awake. I’m annoyed to be dealing with my emotions at this hour. I’m annoyed by the emotions themselves. My head aches fiercely and I’m tired. I’ve had sleep disturbances of various sorts “all my life” – or at least since I was a toddler, that I know of. I know the importance and value of good quality sleep. (I don’t actually get much of that. Don’t know how, maybe.) I do the good sleep hygiene stuff, and my sleep is the best it’s ever been – still not great. Not even reliably good. It’s not at all helpful that my Traveling Partner has gotten so comfortable with waking me up anytime he’s having trouble sleeping. I don’t know how to set a clear reasonable boundary on that; I’m often what’s woken him. He wants to sleep, too. Seems pretty fucking reasonable.

My Traveling Partner wants me to get screened for sleep apnea. Okay, sure – I’ve got an appointment to talk to my doctor about it. (I’m feeling a bit like a hamster on a wheel; I’ve done this step before.) I did a sleep study a couple years ago that resulted in… nothing much. I did not get a sleep apnea diagnosis. If I did? What would the result be? Probably a CPAP machine. I don’t expect an outcome like that to do anything much of value for my sleep (in part due to feeling “tethered” and in part due to the noise), but it’ll likely improve his. Maybe it would help – I don’t actually know. I can feel my internal resistance to the idea of it – not helpful.

…I do know I’m fucking over being awakened from what little real sleep I do get…

I’m tired and irritable, and tears start spilling over and sliding down my face. I don’t do anything to stop them, I just let them fall. Not one of my finest moments. I put my head down on the desk in front of me and sob helplessly for awhile, feeling grateful for the solitude, and the freedom to cry.

Eventually I lift my head and wipe the tears off my cheeks. I mean, for fucks sake, I’ve got a good life. This is ridiculous. I breathe, exhale, relax. Drink more coffee. I miss my partner right now. I miss my cute little house. I miss the warmth of my bed. I miss the good coffee there at home. In another couple of weeks, a stressful morning will just be the starting point for some miles on a trail, with my camera. Right now it’s still too dark for that (for me to do safely). My back is aching, and I remember that it is Sunday, and take my pain meds early. (“Maybe you won’t be such a bitch.” some inner voice remarks crossly.) My shaking hands manage to fling the contents of my pillbox all over the desk when I open it. These sorts of stressful mornings tend to make my pain perceivably worse, and my ability to manage it feels reduced. I get up and stretch, and wander the room restlessly before sitting back down to try and finish this rambling broody collection of words.

…I sometimes miss living alone. It felt easier. I’m frustrated that intimacy isn’t easier to build and maintain, however much I love my Traveling Partner. I’m willing to accept that it’s probably “mostly me”; I’m familiar with the quantity of chaos and damage I’ve got piled up, and I know my trauma history. Doesn’t make it easier to let go of wanting things to be easier. I’ve got a good therapist – I’ll just keep working at it. Eventually, maybe, I’ll be the woman I most want to be…

In the meantime, I’ve just got to begin again, again. My results vary. Sometimes it’s hard. There are verbs involved.

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Categories anhedonia, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, winter

Pieces

February 11, 2023 //
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I type the word “pieces” into the title field, and immediately get distracted wondering why it appears to be misspelled. That’s the way of things sometimes, isn’t it? We puzzle over things that are not especially puzzling, mislead by a mistake in our thinking, or an erroneous “observation”. It’s pretty human that we do this – we are imperfect creatures with a persistent notion of being “better than” other creatures in some noteworthy way. lol

My coffee is good this morning. It’s a quiet Saturday. I had planned to sleep in. My Traveling Partner woke me. All good; he woke me sufficiently late in the morning to totally count as having slept in, and truly there is a new day ahead and plenty to do. It was nice to start the day with a few minutes of meditation, then coffee together until the point at which he began finding me less comfortable to hang out with (perhaps due to my fidgeting, or perhaps the pattern of my breathing had become irregular making affinity behaviors uncomfortable, or perhaps nothing really to do with me at all, but nonetheless ascribed to something to do with me). I give him some room to breathe, and take my coffee into the studio.

As soon as I sit down at my desk I feel uplifted and lighthearted; my Traveling Partner built this lovely space for me. Well, I mean – it’s a room in our house, and he outfitted it with this desk, built my computer, and installed the acoustic treatments. So, yeah. He had a lot to do with this space that wraps me in comfort and inspiration. The paintings on the walls are mine. I am surrounded by things that encourage and delight me. It’s an important space in my home – and in my experience. A piece of a bigger puzzle.

There are so many “pieces” in being this human primate that I am. My love of writing. My compulsion to do so. My willingness to share it. My fondness for my partner. My delight in this home. The enjoyment I take from the sound of rain. The pleasure I find in a cup of coffee – down to the coffee beans, and the cup itself even. I can spread the pieces out quite far and find value in distant forest trails, paths that wander the edges of a marsh, or suburban sidewalks that meander through neighborhoods filled with other human primates living other lives. I can focus on quite tiny details and find myself in the sensation of bare feet on carpet, deck, or lawn, and the sensation of fabric on skin.

There is so much joy and pleasure to be had in a single human lifetime. It’s easy to overlook all that when things go wrong and when I face challenges. There’s sorrow in this life, too. Pain. Hurt feelings. Lost opportunities. Vast choices such that the mind is overwhelmed and shortcuts just feel… easier. There’s so much to learn, and so many things to fail at before mastering anything at all. In years that I have focused too much on the difficulties, the joy in my life was diminished and life was dismal. In years when I have focused on hedonistic pleasures with a devil-may-care disregard for any moment but “now”, I’ve failed to grow as a human being – and also somehow failed to thrive. I find it a peculiar balancing act to find a comfortable middle ground, somehow settling on seeking calm, contentment, and joy – without “chasing” happiness. It seems to come to me often enough when I take this approach, though, so… I’m good with it. 🙂

I’m rarely deeply unhappy anymore. It’s been a long journey. It’s not over. I still struggle with the hardships I face. I still have challenges and fight the internal battles with my personal demons daily. It’s a worthwhile endeavor – and the conviction that this is the case is one major victory among many. I’ve come so far! Sure, I still have some rough days. Still struggle to get adequate restful sleep. Still have nightmares. Still have this headache, and this arthritis. Still deal with lasting effects of early life trauma, my TBI, my PTSD – but what a difference it has made to select my partnership(s) with more care, and to properly take care of myself! Meditation has proven to be a long-term value. Simple health-improving steps have also “given back” more than it feels like I have had to put in. Totally worth the “effort” to drink more water, to take my medications on time, to eat a calorie-and-portion managed nutritious diet, and get more exercise. Hell, those things are working out so well, I’m motivated to “do more better” and take things further. I keep practicing.

Nothing fancy or particularly unusual about today. It’s just another day. A sunny weekend Saturday with no explicit agenda unfolds ahead of me. Where will my path lead? If it’s not too chilly, it might be a good day to do some garden prep and tidy up spaces for Spring… Certainly looks like a lovely one to get a nice walk in, too. Maybe I’ll paint? I could work on my manuscript. I could bake some cookies, or finish tidying up and reorganizing the library (which is also our guest room, and presently a bit cluttered). What I do with the time is actually less important than that I do something, and that I treat myself and my partner well. The quality of the experience matters to the outcomes. I reflect on that and sip my coffee.

It’s a lovely day to begin again. What will I do with it?

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, The Art of Being, Words
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