Archives for posts with tag: metaphors

Lovely morning for walking, it is cool and there’s a mist clinging in low places. My thoughts wander here and there, and my musings are guided a bit by pain, which I mostly treat as “inconsequential noise”, trying to keep it in the background.

I find myself thinking about pain as a warning light on my “dashboard” in a driving metaphor for life. When we’re children, in a sense we aren’t even driving our own car, or managing the maintenance of it, at all. We’re dependent on the knowledge and care of the adults around us. Ideally, once we’re “old enough to drive”, we’ve also been taught what we need to know to be a “skillful driver” in life. We need to know when to refuel, what to use for that purpose, and what our vehicle requires for maintenance. Before we ever get on the highway, it’s helpful to ensure the vehicle is safe to operate.

… There’s no owner’s manual in the glove box…

On life’s journey, as the driver of our physical “vehicle”, we do well to pay attention to those dashboard lights… Do we have a full tank (enough energy and stamina)? Is our “check engine light” on?(Seems a suitable metaphor for mental health.) Is there some sort of warning chime pinging away to alert us that some physical detail is amiss? (Thinking about the seatbelt warning, or open door warning as metaphors for pain, perhaps.) I think you get what I am going for at this point, probably. There’s a lot involved in skillful driving before we ever get on the road… And it’s similar in life; before I can even begin again with a next step on life’s journey, it’s a good idea to make a point to check out the “vehicle” for readiness.

…It can be as simple as noticing my tank is on empty before setting off on a long drive far from the nearest gas station. Fuel up! Get enough rest. Eat healthy, nutritionally dense meals with an appropriate balance of macro nutrients. Drink enough water. Take medications on time.

…It could be more complicated… Is that check engine light on? Flickering mysteriously? Maybe it’s time to consider emotional health, stressors, and “work: life balance”? Maybe it’s a good time to see a therapist or spend quality time with a close friend?

…Has “routine maintenance” been handled properly? Good quality sleep, healthy exercise, and good self-care really improve the longevity of the “vehicle” we’re driving down life’s highway.

Once we’re no longer children, it’s a bit like being handed the keys to our first car. There’s a lot to learn and a lot of good practices to build. It’s more important to take good care of our vehicle than most of us understand when we first get behind the wheel. No owner’s manual. No map. For some drivers, not even a sense of where to go, until long after the journey is underway, and we’re many miles beyond and away from where we eventually decide we’d like to be.

Drive carefully. Pay attention to the road ahead. Check your fluid levels. And for fucks sake, do something about those dashboard lights! lol It’s a long drive, and you’ll want to be able to count on your car.

I sip my coffee in the morning sunshine, parked at the trailhead after my walk. I mostly got the rest I needed, but this broken down hoopty I have to rely on these days needs a bit of care. My “check engine light” flickers now and then, and there’s nearly always some warning indicator pinging at me to take care of something. It’s mostly pain and pain management, and I mostly treat it as though it’s the warning light that’s broken, rather than deal with the potential there’s some more serious shit going wrong. Putting it in those words, I find myself concerned that I am being stupidly short-sighted about something potentially serious that could eventually “leave me stranded by the side of the road”.

… I love metaphors…

I sigh quietly and sit with my thoughts, before making a note to communicate with my doctor about my pain and my persistent headache (again). I don’t want to waste time on detours, but I do want to count on this vehicle for a good long time. Self-care matters, but sometimes we need more.

… It’s already time to begin again…

The blues and grays of daybreak are smeared messily across the sky, clouds gathered low on the horizon. There is a bus idling at the bus stop on the highway, near the parking lot, where I am sitting  waiting for the sunrise. No one gets on or off at this relatively remote stop at this very early hour. Eventually the bus pulls away,  leaving behind only the quiet of morning.

I finally made waffles in the new waffle iron yesterday. They were… good? Not great. A new waffle iron means learning how to make waffles all over again. It’s definitely a better waffle iron and I plan to make waffles again this morning, to take advantage of what I learned yesterday and “get the process down”. Yummy yummy learning. lol

Yesterday was a beautiful Spring day. I got into the garden, weeded a flower bed, planted four new roses, and tidied up the lawn in preparation for it to be mowed later in the day (picking up sticks, cleaning up any cat poop, and digging up a dandelion or two before they could go to seed).

Both processes serve well as living metaphors and useful practices. Metaphors because they stand so well as analogies for other experiences in life, and practices because the things I learn from each of these experiences is incredibly useful in more than the obvious ways – but also require persistence and repetition to extract all that can be learned.

I sit with my thoughts about waffles and gardening for awhile, watching daybreak becoming a new day. The great vast flock of Canada geese on the marsh begin to take flight, rising up from the delicate mist that is cringing to the marsh and meadow. They pass noisily overhead. The sky is bluer now,  and the clouds on the horizon seem much darker. Still waiting for the park gate to open, I step out of the car, stretching and breathing the chilly fresh morning air deeply before changing from sneakers to hiking boots. It won’t be long now, and it looks like I’ll have the trail to myself this morning. The thought delights me.

…The park gate opens with a quiet clang. I move the car and hit the trail…

Wherever I am standing is a good place to begin.

I return to the car feeling the morning chill. Hands cold in spite of mostly being in my pockets, I chuckle to myself; I’ve got gloves in the car and could have worn them.  i didn’t. Cold fingers struggle with boot laces. It’s chillier this morning than most recent mornings have been. I start the car and warm up a bit. I take time to finish this bit of writing. I’m eager to head home and make waffles, but there’s no rush. I haven’t yet heard from my Traveling Partner, and he’s likely still sleeping. These quiet early morning moments I so thoroughly enjoy are also a way of giving my partner a chance to get more rest without me clattering about the house clumsily, so there’s definitely no rush, and I consider the short walk across the parking lot to the marsh viewpoint,  a favorite spot for getting pictures of nesting birds, and playful nutria. I’ve still got the park all to myself, too…

I think about the new roses in my garden. One new rose yet to arrive, a celebration of love and a reminder of the deep connection I share with my Traveling Partner; “Bolero“. I am excited to add this one to the garden. It’s entirely new to me, and celebrates a strange drive home from camping last year; I had a piece of music stuck in my head that later turned out to be music my partner was actually listening to, unbeknownst to me, in that very moment. I am still a bit astonished by the depth of connection the experience represents, and this is why Bolero has ended up in the garden.

…I’m so excited to see all the roses in bloom…

Love and memories. Practices and metaphors. It’s a good morning to be present and to enjoy this quiet moment of reflection. Soon it’ll be time to begin again,  with waffles and with love. It’s a good day for beginnings.

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. 😁

I am sipping my coffee and waking up from a deeply restful, rare, uninterrupted night of actual sleep. I woke befuddled when the lights slowly came up (silent alarm clock). I felt disoriented, and uncertain why I was waking up…? It took me a minute to “place myself” in the context of day, date, and time.

I managed to get dressed and out the door without crashing into something or dropping something, or making a ton of noise; this surprises me. I’m grateful though – it likely means my Traveling Partner also got to sleep without being wakened by my departure.

I sat down at my desk with my coffee this morning without much thought about what to write. My thoughts were still filled with fragments of dreams, scattered about, disorganized, and fairly random seeming. I found myself beginning with those pieces… like a jigsaw puzzle. Individually they don’t amount to much, just the many details of a life being lived, you know? Assembled into a coherent whole, they begin to form a picture of this human being that I am in the context of this life, this location, and this moment in time.

…so many little details…

Like… I tried out my newest batch of shower steamers yesterday. Pleasant. Here’s a thing I noticed about both batches, though; the scent is a bit too subtle and understated (for me). I ended up doing a bit more homework trying to find something more measured and specific for the amount of fragrance needed than “X many drops“. Are they kidding with that shit? We’re grown folks here, I can take it; give it to me in fucking milliliters, please!? 0_o LOL I finally found a source with a clear measure; I was using about a third what I actually needed. Well. That explains a lot. lol

…I’m a human being still learning things. I hope I always will be…

Then there’s also my continued efforts to lose some excess weight, and regain some lost fitness. I’ve been logging my steps. Logging my meals. Logging my sleep. It’s not much effort; my wearable does a lot of it for me. There really are a lot of verbs involved nonetheless… I tend to enjoy “easy” when I can find it, though, and that sometimes results in far too little actual effort exerted than would be wise (seeing how I’d like to be fitter). I keep resetting and beginning again, and I keep making slow progress. Faster progress would be sweet to see, but the slow gains are more likely to be ones I can hold on to for the long-term. Again and again, I look my frustrations in the face and remind myself that incremental change over time can be … super slow.

…I’m a human being still trying, and still working out how to get things done…

I’m starting to feel more confident and secure in my new job. It’s good to feel more “settled in” and comfortable. Making a change of career so late in life feels a bit… awkward. Unsettling. Scary? Maybe scary, yeah. Feels good, too – more to learn, more opportunities to grow. New skills developing. New understandings of things I hadn’t previously been exposed to. It’s pretty wonderful in some respects. I sip my coffee and smile; it felt right at the time, and it feels right, now. 😀

…I’m a human being willing to change…

Being back in therapy has been good for me. It’s given me a sort of “safety net” for dealing with deeper traumas, and for talking over shit that’s on my mind that would only serve to disrupt the harmony of my relationship to bring it up casually along the course of a day. My Traveling Partner is not (and cannot be) my therapist.

…I’m a human being willing to seek the help I need…

I remember the leftovers in the fridge from dinner last night; I’d planned to have those for lunch today. I forgot to grab that container on my way out this morning. LOL

…I’m a human being, being human…

I smile and yawn, and sip my coffee. I feel contented on a Tuesday, and filled with a certain hopefulness. Feels good. It’s a nice starting point from which to begin again. 😀

…Don’t forget to make time to appreciate the small things that make you who you are on the journey to become the person you most want to be; it’s a nice way to begin a day.

I’m enjoying a moment. This one. It is a morning moment, served up with a side of pre-dawn quiet, and a cup of hot coffee. I woke just ahead of the alarm, uncertain, in the darkness, if it was worth trying to go back to sleep… wanting to… as I thought it over, though, the alarm caught up with me, and announced the beginning of a new day.

I sip my coffee and appreciate things. I mean, just generally. There’s no doubt life has some challenges to offer, and having experienced a fair few, I maintain awareness that there are likely more ahead; it’s not personal, it’s just living a life. My coffee is hot, well-made, tasty – and in this particular moment, right here, it is enough to enjoy it quietly. Sufficiency. Mindfulness. Gratitude. It is a pleasant start to the day.

I stay with the moment awhile longer. This coffee. This moment. Present. Here. Now. Nothing fancy or expensive to it, and “presence” is not an especially complicated or difficult practice. I let go of ruminations over past challenges. I refrain from launching my consciousness into explorations of potential future challenges. I exist in this present, right now moment, content with my hot coffee. (Maybe you prefer tea? The practice of being present and mindful does not have to change, whatever your preferred beverage! 😉 )

My thoughts drift to recent photographs; representations of recent moments. Lovely urban shots of spring. Pretty pictures of raindrops on rose leaves extended into the afternoon sunshine, sparkling as if edged with glitter. Traffic. Sunrises. Sunsets. My camera has failed me several times recently – great shots that didn’t save – but my memory does not.  It’s a fair exchange, I suppose. I smile, and continue to sip my coffee.

…Another day, another photograph, another moment… another memory. It’s already time to begin again.