Archives for posts with tag: order from chaos

New job, first day, and all of that went well yesterday. My headache was a 12 on a 1 – 10 scale as I headed home, and I did my best not to allow it to vex me. I was grateful it was a Tuesday – by longstanding practice, it is the Anxious Adventurer’s night to cook, which means less work (for me) and tasty tacos (generally).

… Turned out to be less than ideally easy to get to that moment…

My brain was exhausted when I got home, and the headache was kicking my ass. A shower might help, I’d thought, but no, it didn’t. I took additional pain medication and settled into a darkened room to meditate and hopefully ease my pain and maybe recover some cognitive energy to get through the evening on…

My Traveling Partner alerted me that he was facing unexpected difficulties and excessive time required in a project to do with server maintenance on our home network. My many many (hundreds of) gigabytes of images were…so many. Too many. Backups of copies of duplicates of old drive contents and folders of images I didn’t want to lose were carefully saved – and in several cases nested within each other, multiple times by several names – a byproduct of every tense OS upgrade, or computer replacement over time (for decades), and worse still, it was also all partially backed up as zip files from my old Google Photos app or on a cloud storage platform. Fuuuuuuuck. So many copies…of copies.

…Can I please do something with that fucking mess?!...

Yeah. I was annoyed and aggravated and frustrated to tears by the impatience and irritation in the otherwise entirely reasonable request. I’d even been working on it, piecemeal, much of the past year on and off, whenever I had a spare minute, was also thinking about it, and happened to be on my computer… But I hadn’t finished the important part (deleting the old copies) – I was pretty spectacularly busy with working for a living, caregiving an injured partner, running errands and keeping up the housework, and trying to stave off exhaustion as much as I could while managing chronic pain.

In an instant I felt unappreciated and disrespected – and invisible. I cried the entire time I pushed myself through the steps of reviewing each folder, feeling angry and unsupported. I wept frustrated tears while I deleted folder after folder, fingers crossed that I would not delete the sole copy of some image that has lasting value for me. I managed to finish the work needed in about an hour of mostly focused time, distracted only by my own tears and my Traveling Partner’s continued pings, messaging me continuing to explain why finishing this project matters to him in this moment and more generally, and checking on my progress. Unhelpful for me in the moment (trying to focus and work with a headache), but I recognized his desire to feel heard, and to reconnect and resolve painful emotions. I did my best.

… G’damn that fucking headache though, and not one fucking word of sympathy or care from anyone, which caused hurt feelings that lingered for a while in the background. I was silently mired in a very “fuck all of you” sort of place for a little while before I was able to let it go. Humans being human. I’m fairly certain everyone in the house was doing their best, but…as is often the case, it didn’t feel “good enough”. Our results vary, and as human primates we can expect a certain amount of bullshit and drama to be part of the experience. I chose to let small shit stay small and move on from it without doing anything more to address the circumstances directly.

A new day, a new chance to begin again.

Funny thing, this morning none of that mess is important or relevant at all. My tinnitus is loud in my ears, but my headache is an inconsequential 2 on a 1 – 10 scale. My Traveling Partner was awake when I left the house and seemed to be fairly merry as he kissed me goodbye for the day. It was a pleasant parting and I’m eager to return home at the end of the work day without resentment or ire. Resilience for the win. I’ve worked years to get to this place. I’m grateful that a momentary upset no longer sends me spiraling into chaos, futility, and despair that lingers for days or weeks.

I walked the local trail with my thoughts, enjoying the dawn. It’s a new day. It even feels good to have finished a project that had been stalled (and was seriously taking too long). I breathe, exhale, and relax. I can feel the reduction in the chaos in my life, having cleaned up my files. Funny how that works (for me). I’m grateful to my Traveling Partner for taking such skillful care of our network, and for making it clear that my failure to complete a project I’d started more than a year ago was holding up progress. I’m grateful that his own resilience allows him to bounce back from a tense or angry moment, too. I’m grateful that I never fear violence as a potential byproduct of his anger – he’s not that person.

I watch the sunrise contentedly from my halfway point. It’s a new day, a new moment. I’m okay for most values of okay, and there is no anger in my heart. It’s a fresh start – and time to begin again.

I got my car detailed yesterday. It’s a small SUV that suits me well. Over the past couple of years, though, as much as I love this car, I’d grown pretty used to using it as more of a tiny pick-up truck than as a “car”. We moved. Started a business. For big needs and small needs, my SUV served us well. We only needed to rent a truck specifically to haul something twice: once for a king size mattress, and again for a band-saw. Not bad. Here’s the thing though; I wasn’t investing time in proper care of my SUV all this time, and aside from occasionally taking out all the bits and pieces of trash and nonsense flung about or running it through a car wash now and then, I just wasn’t caring for my car as though it were a car I love… I was just “using it up”.

…I catch myself doing that with my own reserves of energy far too often…

So, after my Traveling Partner got a pick-up, it was clearly time to put things right with my car. I got it detailed, to give me a head start on keeping it nice, again.

Getting into my car after it was ready to be picked up was… an experience. It was cleaner than it was when I bought it! Wow. Every nook and cranny… clean. Carpets? Clean and deep dark black once again. Upholstery? Clean. Not a single crumb or mote of dust to be found. Super clean. That under-dash panel that popped off a couple years ago (that I was obviously too lazy to put back)? Back where it belongs. That wee clip or cover for something or other? It’s back on, too. The car smells clean. Wow. Just… yeah. Wow.

It was once again a thoroughly enjoyable experience to drive my SUV. Like… a total blast. I do love this particular car. Have since I first drove it. I’ll probably get a new one in a couple years – that good. In the meantime, though, the experience of enjoying this one? Fully restored. No trash or empty coffee cups on the floor. No dust or crumbs anywhere at all. It’s such a cute ride.

This is a real experience – but it’s also a metaphor. If we drive ourselves so hard that we begin using ourselves up, never taking time for self-care, or a moment to appreciate our accomplishments, or to just enjoy our life for a little while, we lose the joy that our experience can provide. We begin to lose a sense of what makes us special as an individual. We begin to take our qualities for granted, and become – even with ourself – exploitative and potentially even abusive (of our own self, and this fragile vessel in which we reside for this mortal lifetime). Life can become a grind. A series of errands.

It’s down to the details, isn’t it? How I care for myself matters; doing so, or not doing so, changes my experience of myself and my life. Worth considering.

I sip my coffee thinking happily about my very clean cute SUV. I think about the conversation my Traveling Partner and I were having last night about making some changes to our shared camping gear to account for the truck – it has vastly more room for things than my SUV! Trying to camp in style with just gear that fits in my SUV is a bit limiting, and fine for a solo experience, less so for the two of us. I grin thinking about my Traveling Partner shopping for a proper camp kitchen set-up. I generally get by with my Jet-Boil and freeze-dried camp meals. lol I’m looking forward to better camp food. 😀 (He’s a super good cook, too.)

A new day dawns. I think about odds and ends and things I need to get done. A quick trip to the grocery store. Put essentials back in the car now that it’s detailed (like, hey, the freakin’ paperwork back into the glovebox!!). Launder my all-weather gear that stays in my car for whenever I need it. Emergency kit. My spare cane. I shift in my seat restlessly.

…It’s already time to begin again…

I sip my coffee, lukewarm, no longer “fresh”. I find myself in a “work with what you’ve got” sort of place this morning. What I’ve got is a sink full of dirty dishes, and aquarium with an overgrowth of green hair algae, and a massive fucking headache. I mean, just being real; I ate the food that those dishes had supported. The aquarium with the algae? Mine, and I chose the placement in the room when we moved in, which has too much light for the aquarium, and as a result I have a common nuisance that is algal blooms. The headache? Okay, so, sure… it’s “mine”, and obviously I did not choose or created it by intent, but making a big deal out of it when I have had this same fucking headache (worsening somewhat over time, but yeah, same headache) since… 2014, seems pointless.

…Giving credit where it’s due though, this headache has done a first rate job of sticking around, and slowly developing a more precise location and greater likelihood of moment-to-moment continuation without relief… 2014? Fucking hell. 6 years with this fucking headache. Now that’s a fucking headache. I do find myself just a bit impressed by that, in an irritated, resigned way. I mean… if headaches had a culture of their own, surely this headache would be receiving accolades from peers, and doing the talk show circuit about its success? lol

Most moments are just moments. We create the context and significance.

Still. Here is where I am. Now is the moment I’ve got to work with. So. Moving past “it is what it is” (and it is), and reaching for one new beginning after another (and appropriate pain relief steps, however futile seeming)… I’ve either got to yield to this shitty experience, or let it go and do something else… or find a different alternative. Verbs. Choices. My results vary.

I sip my coffee. Now cold. The darkness of the room is mocked by the appearance of the morning sun, through the window shade. The whir and hum of the computer is dimmed by headphones I’m wearing, although I’m not listening to anything that requires them. I mean, besides the whir and hum of the computer, itself. I sigh out loud. One moment of many, and there is an entire day still ahead and things that want to get done. Those dishes for starters. The aquarium maintenance. Ordinary tasks, life to live – headache or not. I’ll work off some of my irritation with some exercise (Beat Saber? A walk?), and by getting some chores done. I’ll have another cup of coffee, and exchange pleasant words with my Traveling Partner.

I find myself wondering, for a moment, how more primitive humans dealt with things like massive chronic headaches? Did they feel cursed? Possessed? Did they lash out at others? What did primitive human beings know about “self-care”? Was that something they were at all concerned with? “Survival” and “good self-care” seem pretty far apart on the spectrum of things people are concerned with…

I smile when I nudge myself to consider recent lovely moments. My Traveling Partner’s birthday was lovely. I’m grateful for the joy we share. I think of a recent busy work day, and a wee dish of unexpected ice cream delivered during a meeting. I reflect on conversations shared with my partner. Goals. Expectations. Thoughts about future projects and quality of life improvements. The routine matters of living and loving. The delight of an unexpected nap, together, side by side on the recliner sofa.

…Fuck this headache! It is too small a part of my experience to get to call the shots on this day.

I finish my cold coffee, and begin again. 🙂

My coffee is a memory. By the time I got to actually drinking it, it was already rather tepid. It lingers, cold, and bitter, in my recollection. My day is off to a rather poor start for no good reason. At some point, the quality of my experience becomes up to me…

I reflect on things quietly, thinking perhaps I’ll gain perspective through writing, then find myself stalled, unwilling to tackle the “harder questions” this morning, in spite of knowing they would do well to be asked, and where possible, answered. Instead, I make an ambitious list of household chores and resolve to complete those. It’s easier.  Today is, in most respects, an ordinary enough Sunday.

…Order from chaos… sometimes I find it helps with other challenges troubling me in the background…It helps to have a list.

Same view, different day. Perspective matters, but we each have to walk our own hard mile.

I remind myself to make room for other perspectives, to listen deeply, to be open to change…

A slight change in point of view can make a difference in understanding our circumstances.

…I wander off to get started on my list. Another new beginning… the day may improve, if I can stay open to that potential. I can always begin again…

…Sometimes this shit is hard. Seems so, I mean. Subjectively. I remind myself “one practice at a time, one step at a time, one task at a time; it all adds up”… I feel unconvinced and blue. Some days suck. I make a mental note that change is – even the most miserable moment is just a moment, and it’ll pass. I have choices. I have practices that I know I can count on to be uplifting. Yeah, not super convincing that time, either. I’ll “get over it” and “move past this”. For now, this is the experience I seem to be having. I try not to take it personally, and stay with both this actual moment, and these feelings; the moment, which is frankly fine, is my anchor, my point of “safety” that gives me a firm foundation to consider the feelings without becoming mired in them (that’s the intention, anyway). I’m okay right now. That’s real. The emotions are emotions. I make a point to refrain from conflating the feelings with actual experiences.

…I make a point to consider the experience separately from the emotions I feel during or about the experience, itself…

…Uncomfortable or unpleasant experiences are something I can learn and grow from. Fighting that isn’t particularly helpful. Getting mired in unresolved emotions isn’t particularly helpful (or comfortable) either. I take a breath and turn towards my discomfort, seeking growth… and begin again, again. I eye my “baggage” and personal demons with some distaste and impatience, and snarl to myself “bitches, I can do this “begin again” shit all fucking day, just go ahead and fucking bring it“. That at least gets a laugh out of me.

I check my list, and yeah, I even check it twice. There’s more to do… and it all begins with a beginning.

I slept well and deeply, but woke very early (more than an hour ahead of my alarm clock). Pain woke me. Nothing acute or new, just arthritis, but pain is pain, and pain hurts. I mean, that’s literally it’s defining quality… so… yeah. Some yoga eases me into the morning, before I ease myself into my work clothes. Another day, another new beginning. 😉

I have some interesting perfume samples to try; gifts from my Traveling Partner. I choose one. Try it. It has a very familiar scent (not necessarily perfume-related familiarity). I can’t place it. This one quickly goes from “this is interesting”, moving quickly through “this is nice” and settling, before I even make it to the office, somewhere in the vicinity of “well, this is regrettable”. lol Okay. Sampled.

I sip my coffee, and wonder if my keyboarding is “too loud”. It’s early, and the world feels quiet. At this hour, everything sounds “too loud”. I make an effort to lighten my keystrokes, to minimize the noise. Another sip of coffee. I smile with the satisfaction of it; it’s a great cup of coffee.

This isn’t a fancy moment, nor wildly joyful, and it’s generally uncomfortable (physically), and this perfume is now… annoying. But, it is, nonetheless, a pleasant moment, and needs nothing from me besides to be noticed, savored, and appreciated long enough to become a memory of a pleasant moment. (Or I could focus mostly on the arthritis pain, and allow it to become a literally painful memory, but I’m honestly not inclined to do that; I already have quite a few of those. 😉 )

I look around my studio. The house, everywhere else, looks holiday ready and thoroughly tidy. My studio, as a result, looks even more chaotic and… well… not tidy, than usual. I think about the weekend ahead, suitable for laundry and tidying up, for sure. 😀 I make a silent commitment to myself, and decide to begin again in here. 🙂