Archives for posts with tag: my home my rules my way

An important work project completed, and as is so likely for me, the intensity of the past several weeks finally truly catches up with me (as I slow down and let it). I crash hard, shifting from “forgot to write” due to cognitive overload to “didn’t write because I was unexpectedly sleeping”. Most of yesterday is… gone. Relegated to memories of dreams, and an amused chuckle is all that is left behind. I woke this morning laughing out loud in the stillness and quiet of this pre-dawn moment. Between 1 pm yesterday and when I woke this morning, shortly before 6 am, I slept. I napped. I rested. I dozed. I slumbered. I woke to pee, to drink water, to wander aimlessly and groggily through the house without a purpose, thinking I was perhaps “awake” (I was not) before returning to bed. I took time at some points to exchange words with my Traveling Partner… had he said he was thinking about coming up to hang out? Well, damn. I’m glad we both recognized that I’d be… sleeping. LOL

I woke this morning feeling basically rested, and I’m already thinking about going back for more. I expect the weekend to be blown, spent on sleep and rest (that I do genuinely need; I have pushed myself far too hard for far too long, lately). Yield to the impulse, I wake rested Monday morning ready for more. Fight it, and I will struggle with Monday. It is what it is. Caring for this fragile vessel, and learning to do it skillfully, seems to be rather a large portion of what there is to do in life, generally. lol

…We’re really not very good at self-care, as a species, or as a society. We could do better. I know I certainly have to practice with great commitment and awareness, and I’m regularly failing myself, nonetheless. lol It’s a good thing I have learned to begin again.

Are you taking the very best care of yourself with the resources you have? Are you putting the need to care for yourself high on your list of priorities? Maybe it’s worth trying? Maybe it’s worth practicing?

It’s definitely worth beginning again. πŸ˜‰

Sorry about that… I, um… forgot to write at all. I’m even a tad embarrassed by that, particularly since I carefully plan this time, and follow through quite methodically most days, even to the point of occasionally questioning the value in doing so. Then… Well… There’s this. This is different than that. I quite honestly forgot… like… a bunch of times, and even in spite of some reminders (several).

My habits sometimes break. It’s “a feature” of my TBI, as near as I understand it, myself, anyway. Sometimes I just… wander off without some habit or routine that I reliably practice. Even after years. It’s a thing. A quirk. I’m… quirky. lol. I “always” was, I just didn’t also understand that experience (and so many others) in the context of my TBI, that came later. I had other reasons and excuses, and ways of understanding myself, and I suppose they also served my humble needs for as long as they lasted. I’ve even learned, over time, not to beat myself up about my quirks, my forgetfulness, my challenges – I mostly just look that moment over with great care, and a desire to understand both the circumstances and the outcome with greater clarity, and to learn from it what I can, and move on from there. Life doesn’t have to be some sort of frenetic, punishing endurance race, or some lengthy proof of worthiness. How much better (immeasurably) has life been without all that entirely extra not very helpful performance pressure? I mean… who made those rules, anyway?

So… yeah. I woke up some days ago, and… didn’t write. I noticed way later in the evening, and I was too tired to take that opportunity to write, at the end of that day. Then, the next day, I made some excuse, or slept in a little bit, or… just wandered off. I enjoyed a lovely weekend – so lovely – and today was a fairly routine Monday. Today was the day I realized my writing habit had broken, rather odd for it to be that habit, but… there it is.

The morning started off rather peculiarly, and perhaps that what it took to get my attention, that a valued practice, a habit that serves a purpose, had broken? I woke feeling fairly groggy and sort of… unstuck in time. I found myself going through all the motions of the routine morning routines, only, strangely out of sequence, and rather random. I’d barely gotten through some yoga, a shower, and dressing for the day, when I was stepping out the door with my keys in my hand, and heading to the car. That’s super odd; I don’t do mornings in that hurrying-to-work fashion anymore. My days are built around a leisurely start. What the hell? I spent the morning drive into the office musing about how strange it was that I’d broken my writing habit. That I’d also broken my leisure mornings habit didn’t hit me right away. I didn’t notice in time, or with sufficient ability to connect all the dots, and I was already parked at the office when I really understood that I had literally gotten ready for work and departed immediately… it wasn’t even 5:00 am, and I was already at my desk. I hadn’t had any coffee. I was definitely on auto-pilot. I made a promise to myself that I would take a break “a little later” and write, “sometime after I’m caught up…”

…Many hours later, having utterly forgotten about writing, my work day ends, I make the drive home, I arrive safely at my residence… still no writing. I had forgotten about it completely. Well, shit. Okay… I sit down and I write. About not writing. lol That may seem odd all on its own, but without so doing, that habit would remain broken, potentially even permanently; I’ve gotten to know how some of these quirks work. I’ve wandered off from all sorts of things over the course of a lifetime… lost things that I’d carefully put away, made astonishing changes in my life, ended relationships because I somehow… forgot about the whole thing.Β  lol Just… forgot. It’s more than a bit aggravating, and fairly unpredictable. So, I do the needful thing, and reinforce the desired behavior. By doing the desired behavior. In this case, I sit down and write. lol

Quirky’s okay. Broken, too – even broken is okay. Sometimes what we love and make use of most can’t easily survive the wear and tear of our affection. Things break. Even habits. We fix, repair, rebuild, re-purpose, modify, alter, adjust, adapt – we do what is needful. I mean, when we know what that may be, I suppose. I don’t mind being quirky – it turned out, perhaps not so surprisingly, that a great many of the things I am well-regarded for, loved for, or entertained by, myself, are “quirks” I might not have, if I didn’t also have the challenges, injuries, and experiences that I’ve had. πŸ™‚ I rather like this woman I see in the mirror, these days. I’m okay with her quirks.

It’s been a long-ish journey, and not all of it has been pleasant, but it’s mine. πŸ™‚

I’ll just begin again. πŸ˜‰

It is a rainy night. The cars make that certain specific shhh-shhh that they do when it is a rainy night. I listen to it fall. I listen to the drips cascading leaf to leaf on the yellowing big-leaf maple leaves. I notice the plonkΒ  Β plonkΒ  Β of large splashes dropping to the side of an empty decorative flower-pot made of thin sheet metal. I don’t recall leaving it lay there, purposeless. I enjoy the sound. The wind chime stirs, and the tinkle and soft tones mix in the breeze with the sound of the cars on the too busy street. Night fell. I hadn’t noticed until now, really. I’ve been too busy.

Too busy.

Shit. Right. I gotta do something about that. πŸ™‚ I’m glad the weekend is here. I’ll use it to begin again.

Another morning. Another day. Another opportunity to change what isn’t comfortable, or doesn’t suit my needs over time. Another moment to be present. Another chance to choose wisely, and to begin again.

Honestly, it’s also just a Wednesday. πŸ˜‰

I take a deep breath, and relax. Life is exceedingly busy right now, almost unpleasantly so, although still manageable. Uncomfortable at times. Other times intensely rewarding. Goals, and plans carefully made, achievements within reach, and strange unexpected twists in circumstance sending other whole towers of carefully built plans cascading down into… just memories of plans. Life.

I sip my coffee. I’m back to carefully crafted pour overs after a summer of chilled infused cold brew in cans. lol. More frugal? Hardly – well-selected, locally roasted coffee beans are still a bit of a luxury, honestly, aren’t they? Hell, generally, coffee beans aren’t even sold by the pound any more; 12 oz is the standard bag size now, and it’s easy enough to spend $20 for 12 oz of coffee. More for something really special. Commonplace to spend $15 for 12 oz of whole bean coffee. I could, instead, choose a 30 oz can of some name brand, pre-ground, medium roast finely ground coffee manufactured for a very consistent reliably modestly awful drip coffee experience for less than $7. The difference in price per cup is pretty staggering. It’s 60 cups of potentially great coffee, compared to 180 cups of potentially (definitely) not-as-great coffee, but the difference in how those experiences compare isn’t actually about the money at all. A rushed expensive latte handed through a drive-through window is both costly, and also far less likely to deliver a noteworthy moment, than a fairly terrible cup of bad drip coffee taken in a quiet place, present, and able to immerse myself in a moment of contemplation and contentment. It’s not about the money. Really. It’s time to let that shit go.

Choose your experiences wisely.

Take time for moments that matter. Pause to reflect.

Morning coffee as a metaphor for choices? Every day. πŸ˜‰

Today I’ll make my choices in a thoughtful way. It’s time to begin again.

The weekend was relaxed and I spent it mostly in a state of general contentment, hoping to get over the latest ick going around, before the few symptoms I was beginning to experience could fully develop. The focus on self-care may have been worthwhile; I’m feeling okay this morning. πŸ™‚ Definitely well-rested.

One last autumn rose in my garden

The foggy autumn mornings became sunny warm-ish afternoons, which then led to orange-glow sunsets that filled my living room with hints of gold. Twilights were chilly, in shades of mauve, deepening to night fairly slowly. Days are shorter. Sunrise comes later. Sunset surprises me by arriving so soon. Seasons change.

I spent the weekend reading. Taking care of myself. Getting enough rest. Bringing order to chaos. Even turning inward now and then, and reflecting on how best to become the woman I most want to be. It was a lovely weekend, well-spent.

I miss my Traveling Partner. I’m still glad I took the weekend for self-care instead of travel. πŸ™‚ Hilariously, I am already looking forward to next weekend; I’ll probably make the down/back round trip, then. πŸ˜€

I look around my studio. No spiders. That’s a relief, actually. lol I’m eager to get some things done, artistically. Feeling well-rested also finds me feeling inspired.

This feels like an easy morning to overlook the potential in a new beginning; I could coast on this now, right here, and be content. There’s more to do, though. More to learn. A better human to be than the one I was yesterday. It’s a journey, and as lovely as life is in this moment, right here, there is more living to do in the moments ahead.

It’s time to begin again. πŸ™‚