Archives for posts with tag: options

I woke up feeling cross and headache-y. I rolled up the road in the foggy darkness after making coffee for my beloved Traveling Partner and putting out a fresh glass of water and some morning snacks for him to wake up to. Hopefully his night was better than mine. I get awfully annoyed with him when he’s stupidly cross or frustrated with me, particularly when it is over something I don’t have a lot of control over, or something that isn’t about me at all in any reasonable way. He’s human too, and recovering from a serious injury is difficult and frustrating on its own. That’s not made easier by the medications he is taking to ease this or that symptom. I remind myself often that it isn’t personal, that he’s doing his best, and that he loves me. Doesn’t always make it any easier to endure.

Last night he was pretty crabby, in general, and I was “over it” almost immediately. I have needs of my own, and I definitely didn’t feel supported, cared for, or held in high regard. Didn’t help that I hadn’t slept well the night before, and knowing that was true for him, too, I suspect poor sleep was the biggest piece of our shared experience. I called it a night early and tried to get the rest I needed. That was a mixed success and my night was interrupted and not ideally restful. I’ll get over it.

I remind myself not to be a jerk to people; I can’t really know what they’re going through, and most people mean well, and generally try to do their best. Choosing to do anything else than my own best, to treat people well and kindly, with patience and understanding, comes with real predictable consequences. I know that’s true in work, family life, and love. People have a finite amount of nastiness or disrespect that they’ll endure before they lash out or just walk away. That’s reasonable, too. There’s no need to put up with someone’s bullshit rudeness, mistreatment, or drama, at all – there are other (better) options.

I think about my behavior, and I think about my beloved’s behavior, too. We’re walking this path together out of love, and I’m grateful for this deep and enduring love we share – but I’m no fool; we both have options. There’s no reason either of us should settle for each other’s worst behavior, ever. We have a mutual obligation to each other (and to the love we share) to do our best every day. Sure, sometimes our results may vary, and human is human. Still, it’s worth the effort, and certainly if we give up making the effort, love will bear the consequences. That’s just real.

I sit in the pre-dawn darkness out on the marsh. The fog is dense this morning. My head aches and my tinnitus is louder than the traffic on the nearby highway. I sigh quietly and see the steam of my breath become part of the fog. The VA says I need hearing aids now. I guess I’m not surprised. I haven’t really processed that yet. I don’t know how much it really matters. I hope they’re easy to wear and use and that they help. It’s been frustrating to have to be face-to-face with my beloved to be certain of hearing what he’s saying to me, and it’s clearly been frustrating for him, too. The doctor suggested, kindly, that there’s a chance the tinnitus will seem less loud when I’m hearing voice frequencies at a normal volume once again. That’d be a nice change. I’m grateful for the chance to have this technology available. Pretty amazing.

I sit with my thoughts awhile. It’s a chilly morning. Thanksgiving tomorrow, and I’ve much to be grateful for. I focus on the gratitude. It’s pretty hard to feel annoyed and grateful at the same time. lol Useful cognitive trick.

I get to my feet. It’s time to begin again. I’ll do my best.

I’m sipping my coffee, thinking my thoughts, and waiting for the sun. It’s a quiet Sunday, and only three days until I take a break on the coast for a couple days to rest and paint. I’m grateful for the opportunity and the means to enjoy it.

This morning I started my day thinking about my Traveling Partner with gratitude and love, and appreciating how much the world has changed since I was a child. Oh, for sure not perfect; we human primates have a long way to go before we’re anything more than fancy fucking monkeys flinging poo at each other across the cages we’ve devised for ourselves. We’re honestly pretty fucking disappointing in many ways. We could do so much better. Still…

In some important ways we’ve begun to do better than we once did, and I can see it without “straining my eyes” – metaphorically – just thinking about how much more free to experience and express emotion men are in America than they were when I was a kid. I’m so glad that’s true, too. They need that freedom and emotional safety as much as anyone. It’s easier now, and more likely, for a man to choose domesticity over corporate life. Men are less often viewed as babysitters of their own children, and more likely to be respected and valued as parents – and recognized for their contributions.

I see signs of change in the acceptable norms for women, too. Fewer of us are dismissed out of hand for having feelings or opinions that differ from those of the men in our lives. We own property. We have our own finances. Our votes aren’t merely tolerated – they really count. We work. We create. We lead. The conversation about reproduction involves fewer people assuming we’re walking incubators of future generations with no human purpose beyond breeding. We’re free to choose to be childless.

Other changes, too – a lot of them. We’re not perfect beings of compassion, light, and intelligent wisdom. We’ve a long long way to go, and there are definitely some holdouts fighting human progress with stupidity and violence. We’re still making slow progress. Hopefully it’s fast enough to ensure our survival…

… There’s still too much violence in the world, way too much… We should do something about that…

Just thoughts on a quiet Sunday morning, I observe them as they drift through my awareness. My Traveling Partner pings me a greeting, and let’s me know he’s going back to bed. His decision to make his own coffee this morning may have been overly ambitious. I assure him I’m happy to make coffee when I return home and wish him good rest in the meantime. Then I sit wondering if I should cancel my trip…or figure something else out to solve the potential “coffee problem” while I am away…

…A pour over is unquestionably a great cup of coffee but it sure won’t “make itself”…

Waiting for the sun.

The sun rises late these early autumn mornings. There’s a dense mist clinging to the ground in the low places. I’ve still got the nature park to myself when the gate screeches open and clangs firmly in place. It’s still too dark to walk the trail without a headlamp or a flashlight. I’ve got both with me, but I prefer to wait for the sun – or at least for daybreak, and enough light to make out the trail without a light.

A hint of daybreak on the horizon.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. Yesterday was a pleasant day in my partner’s good company. I’m hopeful today will be as well. I enjoyed the intimacy of our conversations, and the depth and breadth of the topics we discussed together. We felt like old friends, again, and lovers. Partners. It feels good to be rebuilding that together. It’s too precious to take it for granted or to haplessly let it slip away. Fuck, I love that man. I sit with my thoughts and my awareness of his enduring deep love for me. Love does take work… and it is so worth that effort.

I sip my coffee, think my thoughts, and watch the horizon. It’s time to begin again.

I’m sipping an iced coffee, perched on a stretch of fence, watching the sun rise. Another hazy warm summer morning that foretells of heat to come. I’ll be in the chill of an air conditioned office for much of the day. Right now I am sitting outside, along the edge of this trail that wanders betwixt marsh and river, looking out across an expanse of meadow, breathing summer air scented by flowers and grasses. It’s a pleasant moment and my being here, now, is mostly due to my Traveling Partner’s need to get some sleep in early morning hours, and the resulting habit of mine that has developed over time; I walk in the early morning hours (avoiding making a bunch of noise knocking about the house while my Traveling Partner tries to sleep).

Another summer morning. Another sunrise.

I smile and breathe the summer scented air. It would not be an exaggeration to place the “blame” for a lot of my current living situation and quality of life on my Traveling Partner. When he and I began to become close, I was in a very different situation (professionally, financially, domestically, medically, and romantically), and from the beginning he questioned (often) why I was in that place instead of living quite differently (and better). He suggested I could do more/better with the resources I had, with my background and experience, and with available options that seemed so obvious to him. He encouraged me to choose differently. It was 2010. He nudged me into getting my first smartphone. It started with that small change, and with the change in my outlook on life that developed and began to deepen through that first year together. He really “backed me up” and encouraged me in a way no previous partner had.

…He has reliably encouraged me to be my best version of the woman I would most like to be that I possibly can…

How I live my life is in my hands. My choices are my own. I am responsible for the consequences of my actions and my words and deeds. (Good and bad.) But… I likely wouldn’t have made many of the choices I did, when I made them, or pursued the results I have gotten, without the love and encouragement, and day-to-day confidence in my abilities that my Traveling Partner has shown me. I playfully “blame him” for much of my experience of success in this latter portion of my life. I doubt I would be in this specific here and now without him. I’m grateful, both for his enduring love and friendship, and also to be here, now, living this life. However long this lasts, it’s pretty pleasant and generally comfortable, and I hope I never take it for granted.

… I’ve done the work to get here, but I wasn’t alone on this journey; it’s been a shared experience. We’re in this together…

The sound of distant traffic reminds me this is a work day. I could happily sit here with my coffee, listening to birdsong and breezes until the heat of the day made it uncomfortable, but there’s work to be done, and it’s part of maintaining this pleasant life I share with my Traveling Partner (and the Anxious Adventurer, for some while to come). I glance at the time, on my cute wrist watch, a gift from my partner earlier this year. I’ve got plenty of time to make my way back up the trail, and my coffee is gone…

… Seems like a good time to begin again…

I slept well in spite of the noise of fireworks going off well into the night. I woke occasionally and quickly sank back into sleep. I woke up at my usual early hour, no alarm set at all. I rose, dressed, and slipped away quietly into the early light of a summer dawn.

It’s a lovely morning. The sunrise began with streaks of peach and pink clouds across a hazy mostly clear sky. It’s going to be hot today.

I find myself straddling past moments of recollection and future moments of speculation, in this pleasant quiet “now”. The paved portion of this trail is quiet beneath my feet. Small birds explore the weeds and grass for tasty bits as I walk past. The air feels soft on my skin and I hear the sound of distant traffic… and my tinnitus. Squirrels play, chasing each other up and down and around the trunks of trees along the trail. I breathe and walk.

… Summer…

I let my thoughts wander freely as I walk. My Traveling Partner’s surgery is scheduled. I’m not fretting over that; I’m hopeful. Grateful. Eager to see him well (repaired?). I’m thinking ahead to getting some real downtime, sometime beyond the most critical recovery time immediately following his surgery. I’m eager to have a few days alone, spent on creative work and solitary reflection, unconstrained by the requirements of caregiving and service to hearth and home. I’m tired frankly, and any rest I get and all the resilience I can build, have been almost immediately consumed by the next need, week after week, for months. I’m not even complaining; I have been needed and also appreciated. My Traveling Partner has shown me great consideration, love, and gratitude, and I have no resentment in my heart. I’m just tired and eager for him to be himself at 100% again.

I don’t yet have anything specific in mind. Camping? A hotel holiday on the coast? A trip to some glittering metropolis? A quiet stay in some remote bed and breakfast? A stay at some monastery that hosts retreats? “Spin the wheel” and just show up at the airport or train station and grab the next cheap seat to somewhere at random and figure it out when I get “there”? Options.

Rather unrealistically, I want to be sitting in my Granny’s kitchen on a lazy summer morning, listening to the sound of seabirds and the tides changing along the marshy edge of Mine Creek. I’d like to make a cup of fairly terrible drip coffee and pour it over ice, and take it out to the porch, with my pastels and my sketchbook, and while away the cool morning painting landscapes of the shore along Frenchtown Rd. My heart aches for qualities of peace and serene beauty and the joy of solitary moments I don’t find often these days. The world is complicated and messy, as are human beings with their violence and villainy, their petty deceits and corruption. Peace is sometimes hard to find, and difficult to cultivate. I feel momentarily homesick for places that no longer exist outside my memory, and a bit lonely for people dear to me who are gone now.

… Strangely sentimental morning…

The sky is a brilliant clear blue as I finish this bit of writing. The morning is beginning to warm up already. It’s time to head back up the trail to the car, and back to the house to start the work day. I sigh to myself and remember to take my morning medication. It’s already time to begin again…

I’m sipping my coffee and thinking about green tomato pickles. It’s not a random thought; I’ve got a lot of green tomatoes in the garden, and the season is quickly ending. Rather than waste that bounty, I have been thinking about what to do with those green tomatoes. Pickles? A relish? Sliced and fried? I’ve got options.

…Live is rich with options…

Last night my Traveling Partner and I closed out a lovely day with continued conversation about various household options, most particularly what he’s going to do about/with his work & gaming space. He is very much one of those folks who will regularly change things up with the decor, the arrangements, the utility of a given space. I’m one of the other sorts; I like to “figure it out” and have things as I like them, and then simply live with that more or less indefinitely until something forces me to consider a change. I find myself less likely to “become lost” in the middle of the night as though I’ve awakened in an unfamiliar place, if my place remains familiar. LOL No criticism of my partner’s approach, it’s just one of many variations on the theme of being human. Some people also drink tea, instead of coffee. Just saying – there are options.

…We both drink coffee…

…Okay, he also drinks quite a bit of iced tea, and I enjoy the occasional cup of hot tea on a chilly day, or in the afternoon. lol Options.

I spent yesterday afternoon in the garden. It was lovely time, well-spent. I didn’t get as far with things as I might have liked. I decided to let a few more tomatoes ripen on the vines, while there are still warm afternoons for them to do so. My original intent had been to cut the vines down and strip the green tomatoes from them and then… do something with those. I’ll still have that opportunity, it just won’t be this weekend. More time to decide on pickles or relish or some kind of delicious sauce for a chicken dish, or perhaps just fried up and served with scrambled eggs and toast some morning. 😀 I ache today, although whether it’s due to the work yesterday or the likelihood of rain today, I don’t know. It’s among the many things that don’t really matter, I suppose.

…Some things definitely matter more than other things…

I’m listening to the rain already, on a video. Considering all the many options for “content” that I could consume, it may seem strange that I so often choose this… but I find it both relaxing and also suitable for masking other sounds in the background. I enjoy it. I’m definitely a fan of choosing the options I most enjoy, when I’m able to do so. I’m fortunate that at this point in my life I am in no way prone to taking that inclination to hedonistic extremes; it can go very wrong for some people.

I sip my coffee and think my thoughts. Last day of a long weekend, for me. Work day for my Traveling Partner. I’ll likely find something to do at some point and do that… whether here or elsewhere is as yet unknown. I think about self-care practices, and I think about creative endeavors, and I think about the spaces in my life where those things collide…

…My Traveling Partner sticks his head in my studio and points out that I’ve got a good opportunity to have a soak before it starts raining today. It’s tempting… very. He points out that I am reliably in a better mood and feel better after a good soak. He’s right about that. So…

…Some time later, after a lovely soak on a not-yet-rainy-but-already-misty morning, I return to my writing and my now-cold coffee with a profound feeling of contentment, and a handful of homemade chocolate chip cookies. 😀 Options!

I’ve no idea what the rest of the day holds… I know I have options. Choices. Undetermined potential in the hours ahead… it’s a nice feeling. I munch a cookie and sip my coffee feeling as if “all is right with the world” – though I know that truly that is not the case in any global real-world way. Individual self-care requires me to care for this individual that I am, with my whole attention and will, and legitimate authentic consideration for myself and this fragile vessel. In this limited sense, “the world can wait” – these individual moments of contentment and joy have real value. Perhaps if more of us were focused on delivering, enabling, creating, and sharing moments of joy there’d be less will for bombing innocent civilians (or, frankly, anyone at all) into remnants of flesh and memories? Suffice it to say I am not unaware of the horrors of war, nor what is going on in the world beyond my little suburban home in the countryside – I just also definitely need to (and will) take care of myself. I’ve learned that lesson over a painful lifetime. “Put your own oxygen mask on first.” It’s good advice. In the event that oxygen masks deploy, whether for real or metaphorically, it definitely makes good sense to mask up before you start trying to put masks on other people. 😉

You’ve got options. Consider them. Take a minute and do it with intention and deliberation. Choose wisely. You are the architect of your own experience. You are your own cartographer on life’s journey. Choose your path and walk it. If you find that you’ve strayed…? Begin again.