Archives for posts with tag: perspective

I’m very carefully, and rather peculiarly, sipping my room temperature coffee, seeking to do so without creating any suction or pressure in my mouth, to avoid disturbing the healing progress of the small perforation of my right sinus. Rather tediously complicated. It’s not specific to coffee; anything I eat, anything I drink, all comes with this new challenge. lol. I’m not bitching; it is what it is, and one thing it happens to be is an opportunity for greater mindfulness. So… I’m careful, present, very much aware. Sip after careful sip, sort of sliding the liquid down the opposite side of my open mouth, swallowing without closing my mouth. LOL I’m okay.

No suction. Doesn’t sound that difficult, or inconvenient, in the abstract. I was not sufficiently aware of how much “mouth stuff” involves some amount of suction or pressure. 🙂 I’m learning a lot.

…Still… A lot of what inconveniences me turns out to be a useful opportunity. Another example? Distance without social media; giving up social media has resulted in a growing feeling of distance from dear friends. It wasn’t that we were closer with social media, we weren’t, at all. We were simply easily able to eavesdrop on each other’s lives and experience the sensation of remaining quite close and caught up on things, without making a legitimate effort, or being present in an authentic way. Now? I have to put the effort in. I have to make a point to reach out. I experience the lag that goes along with snail mail, or the sound sensitivity that is part of my experience of talking on the phone, or the inconvenience of noticing, again, that I’ve written several letters – days or weeks ago – and failed to mail them. No social media gives me a huge opportunity to live up to value of these relationships by showing some effort. (I’m not saying I’m doing a great job of it – I’m not, so far – I’m just pointing out the opportunity very much exists.)

This morning, limited by this perforated sinus, and heading into the office, I have still more opportunities. Opportunities to gauge my emotional wellness, resilience, and ability to manage day-to-day stresses without the (admitted) crutch of nicotine, for example. Opportunities to be my best self in commuter traffic. Opportunities to make reasoned, considered choices, throughout a new day. Opportunities to rise above personal discomfort, grief, and practical challenges of being a human being, midst other human beings having their own experiences. Opportunities to communicate more skillfully, and to love and be loved. A new day filled with opportunities – and choices – and verbs. 🙂

The 4th of July holiday came and went fairly uneventfully. I am not of a mind to “celebrate” national independence by wastefully expending colorful ordnance. Not so much my thing. No stress in it, these days, it’s just that I’m unclear on what I would be celebrating, at this point… So… with my ability to enjoy tasty holiday tidbits impaired, and feeling frankly a tad injured, and needing to rest and recover, no celebration at all seemed much easier than a pro forma celebration of a flag. Certainly, I have no emotional connection to, or investment in, the banana republic display going on in the nation’s capital. lol It was a quiet day, of reading mostly. 😀

I glance at the time. Attempt another caution sip of coffee, and look to the opportunities of the day ahead; it’s already time to begin again. 🙂

My eyes opened at 3:00 am. No surprise. I went to bed early, sleepy, and tired, and earnest about being well-rested for today’s life pop-quiz; tooth extraction. lol So… I guess I’m well-rested. 🙂 I spent the extra time on a leisurely shower, yoga, meditation, and then… comedy. Humor. Laughter. Light-heartedness. Joy. Sure, why not? Got a few extra minutes? To what better use can you put it, than a few moments of merriment?

The clock ticks on. We are mortal creatures (at least for now). Grief is a thing, part of our experience as human beings. Sorrows come and go. Hurts happen, some of those become festering wounds. We rage and storm against perceived slights, and harvest personal resentments from our carefully curated personal narratives. Anger, too, is a thing that is part of our experience. It’s too easy to let the “dark side” of our emotional spectrum to take over; it’s powerful. So powerful. So… I make a point to invite in the joy, the merriment, the humor, the contentment. I let happiness wander in to join the fun, whenever possible. While I’ve given up on treating my emotions as my enemy, I recognize that some emotions are definite “party crashers”, uninvited, generally unwanted, and totally willing to just take over, and suck the fun out of life. Making a real point to seek out the positive and uplifting experiences helps a lot, by building resilience, and a more positive implicit experience.

Where to begin, though…?

It’s hard to go wrong with good basics…

I sip my coffee, contentedly. I feel okay about the tooth extraction, less anxious after doing some reading about typical experiences, after-care, and looking at x-rays online of how that particular tooth commonly fits in a human jaw. All of that helped reassure and calm me (your needs – and results – may vary). I feel ready. My time is managed to support after-care (no work tomorrow, I can stay home and take it easy), although I won’t be eating any enticing holiday foods. lol I pause for a moment of gratitude; I have a good dentist, with whom I am at ease, and was able to get a prompt appointment, the day before a holiday, simplifying the time needed for after-care. I’m fortunate.

I’m surprised, again, by how really good gratitude actually feels… 🙂 I spend a few moments happily appreciating things for which I am grateful… this can of room temperature coffee, for example, which allows me to easily and conveniently support my coffee habit even while waiting on an appointment to have a painful tooth extracted. Oh, hey, and the weird glue-y stuff the dentist used to protect the exposed stump of this tooth, until the day of my appointment, so I can eat, and rest through the night, and drink water (and, um, room temperature coffee). I’m grateful for the good night of sleep I got. Grateful for the running water and indoor plumbing. Grateful to see another sun rise. 🙂 All good stuff. I begin to feel a wholesome feeling of being uplifted – nothing going on aside from this simple exercise in gratitude. It’s nice, and also quite portable, convenient, and inexpensive. 😀

I sip my coffee, smiling, pleased to have shifted an experience fraught with anxiety to one characterized by contentment, and positivity. I glance at the clock, aware of my commitment to being in the office a bit early, since the day will be shortened by this appointment. This feels okay. It’s enough. 🙂

I sip my coffee and reflect. I’m not a perfect person. I have hard days, like anyone. I sometimes choose poorly. I go wrong, now and again. This path, as with any other, has some rocks, and tripping hazards. The entire experience of living life seems to be about learning, growing, and making mistakes.

This morning, my head aches. I spent too much time crying last night. Not grief; the aftermath of …”an argument”? It wasn’t exactly. Words went wrong in a moment. Mine. His. I walked away before things developed into raised voices; I just wasn’t up to any of that. He felt hurt, even mistreated, that I walked away, without further discourse. We gave up on enjoying a shared evening. It sucked. Hours later, we found ourselves in shared space again. I apologized – it wasn’t about being right, or being wrong, or any of that; I simply whole-heartedly regretted hurting his feelings. No way to roll back the clock, so apologizing unreservedly was all I had to offer. It wasn’t a particularly satisfying moment, I’m not sure it did any good, or that things are “any better” now, and although I slept when I finally called it a night, I woke feeling dried out, head-ache-y, and heavy-hearted. Shitty start to the morning.

So basic.

I give myself room to be human. I take time for meditation. A cool shower helps, too. I sit now, getting ready for a work day that holds no enthusiasm, wondering if I’m even up to being an adult, at all…? Tooth extraction, tomorrow… Fourth of July the next day. I struggle with ennui and anhedonia, this morning. I struggle with tears that want to come, without any particular cause. Sometimes shit’s hard. I sip my coffee, frowning a bit. “This too shall pass” seems a fitting thought. I don’t find it particularly comforting, in this moment, maybe later? The pain shifts. Headache, now spine. I feel twisted and uncomfortable.

I breathe. Exhale. Relax. Let things go. Pull myself back to “now”. Right now? Right now, I’m okay. Right now, he sleeps quietly. We live gently, without any hint of violence; a few terse words and some hurt feelings seem a small, fairly ordinary, human experience. We’ll get past it. Right now, the world feels new. I give myself another chance – that’s what that phrase “begin again” is all about. Reset the clock. Start over. Take a fresh approach. Let go of a bit of baggage and bullshit, and take a step forward on the path. “Growth” isn’t easy, or without effort, or free of error – and sometimes our mistakes are painful, for us, for those dear to us, to random strangers… but we do need to grow. So. A new beginning, then? I guess so.

I breathe. Exhale. Relax. Feel the tension in my shoulders begin to release. Feel the headache begin to dissipate. I drink more water. Sip more coffee. Do some yoga. I start building a fresh start, and a new perspective. No room to cling to personal narrative here; I’m often wrong. We all are. We make too much up in our heads to be reliably correct about what someone else is going through. More coffee. More time. More breaths. Fucking hell, today feels hard already. A deep slow breath. Another moment to exhale, relax, and feel my shoulders drop back down where they belong. Again, and again. “Practice”.

I look at the clock. Although I’ve no significant enthusiasm for it, it’s already time to begin again. There’s a work day ahead, and a chance to do something positive. More verbs. More choices. More beginnings. For now, that’s enough.

Well, sure. This.

It was a weekend of long walks in the sunshine, of fresh ripe blackberries, of farmer’s markets, and of grilling. It was a lovely, easy, relaxed summer weekend. Enough. More than enough. I let the recollection put a smile on my face this morning, as I sip my coffee, and prepare for a new day, a new week, and a new beginning. 🙂

All of the richness and warmth of the weekend, though, wouldn’t be “enough”, if I were to refuse to allow it to be; I could so easily choose to demand more from my experience and find myself mired in discontent and dissatisfaction. (I know this for certain, because I was once that person.) This morning the choice is to enjoy each of the small things I do enjoy, and to savor those experiences. I let them fill me up and become substantial in my recollection, and, over time, they become quite prominent in my implicit memory, and useful towards building emotional resilience.

…So practical. 😀

This week will “feel different” in the office, mostly simply to do with changing the office, itself. We’ve moved the work from one location, to another, although not very far. The two locations have a very different “vibe”, and quite a different arrangement of space. I’m eager to observe how these differences change other behavior than my own. It’s a work thing. lol Still, I’m eager to get going with it, and find myself considering leaving for work early, although few people will be on site, or working, as early as I generally get in. It’s the momentum that I’m after. I feel eager.

…Oh hey, “eagerness” is returning. I smile, feeling welcoming, and positively-inclined toward the experience of feeling eager. 🙂 It’s not much to hold onto, but any little foothold that helps me on my way up and out of last week’s pit of raw grief and existential disappointment is worth enjoying. 🙂 Grieving is such a personal thing. It will be a long while before I’m anything like truly being “over” my mother’s death – but, fortunately for my mental health and quality of life, feels like I am very nearly “over it enough” to see the color and joy begin to return to the day-to-day. 🙂

I take a moment for pictures of flowers from the weekend, before I begin again. 🙂

I’m sipping my room temperature coffee (lost a crown, haven’t yet had that repaired), and considering the path I am on, and where it has taken me. I’m thinking about my mother’s death. I’m slowly waking up to a new morning, and a new perspective.

Every ending, also a beginning; the sun shines even on our dark moments.

I went to the farmer’s market yesterday. The blueberries and blackberries are just in, and the strawberries have not yet disappeared. At the grocery store, exceptional tree-ripe apricots up from Dinuba were in. They are delicious this morning, with my coffee. Needing more novelty – and admittedly, also more exercise – I selected a nearby trail I “hadn’t gotten to, yet” – and got to it.

The sunshine was bright and illuminating.

It was only two miles, and spent mostly in my head. The sunshine was warm on my skin.

There were beautiful eye-catching flowers I’ve never noticed before.

The breeze was soft, and heavily scented with flowers.

Sweetpeas bloomed all along the trail, at the edges of the blackberry thicket.

I let my feet carry me forward, enjoying sunshine and movement. Thinking about Mom’s passing, without being fully aware that her service was going on, at that time, but still very much grieving the loss in a personal way. No guilt over not traveling for the service; she’d have understood. I know this, because we had discussed it.

Thimbleberries!

I spot a thicket of ripening thimbleberries along my path. I help myself to just one; they are too fragile for commercial cultivation, and have minimal fruit. The lovely flavor is unique, and I savor it, present, just being for that long sweet moment. I enjoy just the one berry, leaving the rest for the birds, before walking on.

There are wee bunnies in the underbrush all along my walk. Most of them are too fast for me to capture on film.

I return, eventually, to the car, and to home, and enjoy a quiet relaxed day of this-n-that, generally at leisure.

…No headache.

I sit a moment with that awareness; no headache yesterday. No headache this morning. I don’t want to miss this moment. This, too, is worth presence, worth savoring long enough to form a clear recollection, for later.

I enjoyed the walk yesterday more than the walk itself probably rates. I definitely need to be doing more of that. I sip my coffee and consider the morning ahead… I can definitely get a walk in, this morning, too. Maybe no pictures? A walking meditation, perhaps. Along the river? I don’t go up that way often; the wind in my ears, the sparseness of the vegetation, the bare expanse of berm along the path; it’s not much to see besides the long broad ribbon of muddy water, but this morning even that sounds enticing.

I finish my coffee, and start figuring myself out for the day. I find myself recalling bow practice, yesterday, with the crossbow my Traveling Partner got me as a late birthday present. I’ve no idea, really, what inspired him to go that direction – and it was a master-stroke of loving inspiration, as it turns out. We enjoyed the sunshine together for a few moments of target practice, before determining that, ideally, we’d need more room than we have behind the house. I promise myself to keep an eye out for suitable locations as I travel here and there. Still grinning, I settle on a pair of jeans, quietly (randomly) retrieved from the closet, as my partner sleeps. This day won’t live itself!

It’s time to begin… again. 🙂