This morning begins well. Most mornings do. Mornings seem filled with peace and promise (from the perspective of this one mortal life). Sometimes they go horribly sideways and end badly, mostly they don’t. A really bad day sometimes causes me to lose awareness of how few days are truly “bad” for me, these days. Bad days happen. Everyone has occasional bad days. What characterizes a lifetime, though, isn’t the presence of bad days, nor even how common or uncommon they may be, rather the ease with which a person can bounce back is what I find determines the character of a lifetime.
…I need more practice. Building resiliency takes time…
I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s a lovely morning. I slept well and deeply. I woke gently, dressed, and left the house. I watched the sun rise as I drove toward the nature park. The sky was an impressionist masterpiece of color, the sun peaking over the horizon a bold orange ball, illuminating the streaks of clouds in hues of pink, peach, and lavender. There were mists clinging in low places, and soft fresh breezes fragrant with Spring flowers.
Today is new and wonderful. Well, definitely new, potentially wonderful. A new day (or new beginning) is filled with potential. That’s enough to begin again with, isn’t it?
Another breath. I walk the trail, content in my solitude. Yesterday was a difficult day. Yesterday is behind me now. Today unfolds ahead of me on the path, undetermined, undecided, full of potential joy and delight.
…It’s enough…
My Traveling Partner pinged me a good morning greeting and let me know he also got the rest he needed so badly. He lets me know I am welcome at home, and it’s nice to hear that. I feel loved. I make a plan to come home at lunchtime, and maybe even start the weekend early…
Everyone has bad days. I definitely do. You do too, I bet. It’s part of the human experience. Emotions can complicate an experience. We tend to catastrophize difficult moments and conflate one challenge with another. We’re prone towards being self-critical, and our thinking errors fill studious volumes. Still, bad days are as temporary as everything else, and they pass. The dawn of a new day is a new beginning.
I got my walk in early. I started just at daybreak on this mild Spring morning. I walked a bit aggressively, lost in my own thoughts, eyes fixed on some point ahead, but without really seeing. I felt cross about the way my morning started (with my Traveling Partner’s aggravation over being wakened and struggling to breathe, as I finished dressing to leave).
…Took me awhile to let it go…
I had wished him well and expressed my hope that he could get back to sleep. He didn’t seem to think he would and expressed that in a way that kept our exchange on my mind as I walked along, over-thinking it unsatisyingly.
…I seriously could have done a better job of letting it go, and letting small shit stay small…
I didn’t really begin to enjoy my walk or adjust my attitude until after he pinged me a cute sticker of a little cat tucked in for sleep, indicating he was going back to bed. Damn, I love that guy. At that point, I was easily able to settle down and sort myself out, with a sigh and a smile and a feeling of gratitude. Shit could be a lot g’damn worse in life (and love).
…We’re each having our own experience…
When I sat down to write, I took a quick look at the “page stats” for this blog (it’s not about numbers so much as insights into what people choose to read, and I often find new relevance in old writing). I found myself re-reading a post from almost 18 months ago, and reflecting further on perspective, change, and the importance of self-care. It gave me real clarity on the morning, and restored my sense of perspective generally, and how good things truly are. Reading a relevant older post is another way to “be there for myself”, and practice good self-care, and another way to regain perspective. (I say a silent “thank you” to the reader who read that post yesterday; reading it this morning was helpful.)
…My Traveling Partner is on his own journey, having his own experience, and taking that at all personally isn’t a helpful approach to partnership…
Here. Now. Perspective. Sufficiency.
I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s a pretty morning. The temperature here is a comfortable 50°F or so. The sunshine lights the blades of grass and the trunks of the oaks in the grove where I sit perched on a picnic table enjoying the sunrise. It’s still quite early and I am not rushing back to the house. I’ve got a cup of coffee and this quiet moment to myself and I am enjoying it.
…Sometimes the best thing I can do to take care of myself is to simply take a few quiet minutes to breathe and reflect…
Later today I will take my Traveling Partner to an appointment with a specialist. I hope there is promising news about what can be done and what the long term prognosis for his recovery from his December injury may be. It’s hard watching him suffer and struggle. I feel so helpless so often. I definitely want to do more to alleviate his pain and discomfort than I seem able to. It’s not about me, though; I just want this human being I love so dearly to be okay.
I sigh out loud and catch myself picking at my cuticles anxiously. Yeah… still human. Still prone to worry and stress. I breathe the fresh Spring air deeply and exhale slowly. I can smell the hedge roses that are on the other side of the parking lot adjacent to this park where I am sitting, and the scent of recently cut meadow grass. I enjoy the smell of Spring, grateful that my seasonal allergies are nothing like as severe as my Mother’s allergies, or my Traveling Partner’s. They’re mostly pretty mild, and seem very specific to certain local flowering trees. That time of year is already beginning to pass.
I am in rather a lot of pain this morning. It’s been an issue all week. I take the medication I have for it. I cope the best I can. I remain unwilling to let my pain call my shots and I try to “just live my life” in spite of it. My results vary. I make a point of not complaining much about it, to the point of generally mentioning it only in passing, if I mention it at all, in conversation. It’s not that I find this to be a helpful strategy, it’s just that there’s nothing to do about it, really, that I’m not already doing, and I am very much aware that my partner is in a great deal more pain than I am. I don’t want to make that about me. I just want to do my best to support and care for him while he’s injured and working on recovering. He knows I am in pain, it’s a chronic condition. No point making that “a thing” – right now it’s just a distraction.
I sit with my coffee and my thoughts awhile longer. Soon enough it will be time to begin again.
I’m taking some time at the end of an endless seeming day (it’s this headache is all, it’s very tedious) to tinker a bit with the new OS on my desktop PC. I’m tickled by its speed – pretty snappy – and how intuitive (generally) it is to use. Win. I’m spending a few minutes getting “moved in” and figuring out some essentials (like importing passwords and bookmarks, setting up a new browser, and various sorts of housekeeping details to make this space feel more like… “home”). I’m no expert. I’m just mucking about with things that are low risk/high reward… pairing my elegant Bluetooth keyboard, restoring bookmarks for sites I visit often, and hey – even writing a short blog post to “get the feel” of this new “place” where I may be spending quite a bit of time…
I learn a few things about my new OS as I noodle around. Hell, I learn some things about other apps I use – and a few I’d rather not be using at all (looking your way, MS Office, and Google Photos). I find myself “falling in love” all over again with a couple apps that suddenly work so much better on this OS than on a Windows OS (don’t bother me with Apple notions, I’m not into it). It’s a fun adventure – and surprisingly low stress. I don’t know whether to attribute that to my Traveling Partners expertise and willingness to help any time – or personal growth of some sort, but here I am – having a good time, getting some things done. Neat.
I find myself working on exporting photos that currently live on Google Photos… the time has come to move away from that monstrosity in favor of something more secure and more private. 😀
…My Traveling Partner calls to me from the other room, seeking some assistance (out of reach tools that I’m happy to bring to him). Somehow it turns into me getting yelled at, after I ask a clarifying question. Between my headache making me potentially kind of dumb (though still eager to meet the need), and his condition recovering from a procedure making him potentially more easily frustrated (although appreciative of my help), tempers flare. I walk away, returning to the quiet of my studio, and this purposeful activity that is somehow much less fun, now. I try not to linger in this shitty moment – it’s hard.
I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s probably time to make some dinner and begin again.
This morning as I drove in to work, I found myself behind the #17 bus as I entered the city. It sparked memories of commuting on that bus line for so many years. Recollections of an altogether different life. A moment of nostalgia swept over me… then I began to recall what those years were really like. I stopped feeling that soft fond sense of “a simpler time” – because it was not simpler, at all, and it was complicated, messy, and deeply unhappy rather often. It was a time of struggle, and of limited resources, and sometimes even of hopelessness and a sense of futility. I’m quite glad those years are behind me now.
I arrived at the office and got the day started. It’s a payday, and I took time to look at the budget and communicate numbers to my Traveling Partner and to get his thoughts.
I remembered an unfinished task from yesterday; it’s time to renew my “special access pass” with the State Park system (a really wonderful benefit for disabled veterans). As I moved through the new online workflow last night, I hit a requirement to provide an updated benefit letter from the VA and this stalled me doing the renewal easily from my phone, so I put it off for today. It was much easier on a browser from my laptop. Then I actually looked at the letter. How the fuck is this thing still using my previous married name from my first marriage?? Gross. I don’t use that name. I don’t like that name. That name holds reminders of a terrifying dark time in my life that I really don’t care to revisit if I don’t have to. 😦 My skin crawls with revulsion and loathing and residual fear just reading the name. I sigh out loud. Stand up and stretch. Work to explicitly let the moment go, within myself. My defenses are all up and I’m suddenly incredibly tense and wary. What a bunch of bullshit. Fuck that guy. Fuck that life. Fuck that name. I survived, and I’m here now, and this is not then.
…I take a moment to breathe, exhale, relax, and let it go…
…I look out the big office windows onto a city that never knew me then, on a beautiful Spring morning as the sun rises…
Crazy how long the damage can last, how long trauma can linger…
I’m sipping my coffee and noticing that the sun is shining – in my eyes. I could complain about that, but it seems easier and more effective to adjust the location of my chair so that the sun isn’t in my eyes. lol There’s something to learn there; human beings complain about a lot of shit they could just very easily change. Just saying.
Yesterday was a strange one. Highs and lows. Mixed feelings. Shared experience. My Traveling Partner and I spent the day together, and this included a hour-long drive to another town for an appointment. It was a lovely drive in the country and I wish I could have enjoyed it more fully – it was a gorgeous day for it and I greatly enjoy my Traveling Partner’s good company. He’s injured, still recovering, and quite uncomfortable as a result. I had a vicious headache and my arthritis was giving me grief. We were both sort of cross, and it definitely colored the day a bit, though mostly we had a great time together. The drive itself was quite delightful, characterized by the splendid day itself, and the beautiful countryside scenery. It was, generally speaking, a very good day. By the end of the day, we were both pretty crabby and easily irritated in spite of our best intentions. I went to bed early hoping to wake without this fucking headache…
…My headache isn’t so bad this morning, but my neck aches, my back aches, and the sun shining in my eyes threatened to bring my headache back, but so far, I guess things are “fine”…
How is it already almost May?? Where did the time go? It’s managed to be a busy and eventful sort of year, too…
I sip my coffee and think about my health… diet and exercise… plans, practices, and commitments to change… so many verbs, so much work and effort and focus… So far I have been comfortably able to stay on top of the various details I’m committing myself to, on this particular health journey. I know my results will vary; this is a very human thing. I’m almost eager, but half dreading, the upcoming Sunday (next shot, weigh-in, review progress-to-date)… how long does it take to see results from changes? Depends on the changes, I suppose. Depends on the results I’m looking for, too, probably. I won’t see changes to things like my A1c until my next bloodwork. I could see changes in weight pretty quickly, and have already been feeling changes in the subtleties of subjective experience (things like the way my clothes fit, and some differences in perspective regarding food and consumption).
…Some of our most important journeys are filled with small changes as we progress, and it’s easy to overlook those – but there’s profound value in recognizing and celebrating them (or making corrections if they are setbacks). So, I sip my coffee and think over the “here and now” and the differences between this moment and a similarly timed moment some weeks ago. Compare, contrast, observe, & acknowledge. Breathe. Acceptance and non-attachment are pretty useful practices on a journey of change. I keep practicing.
…Acceptance and non-attachment… Those served me pretty well yesterday, too. These are practices that allow me to accept my Traveling Partner as he is, as a human being, friend, and lover, without becoming “fused” with his emotional experience. He’s his own person. Non-attachment allows me to love him deeply without taking his perspective personally or allowing it to undermine my self-esteem in moments of discord. Useful. Still requires practice. There are verbs involved. My results vary – but damn, I am in a better place with myself (and my partner) than I was a few years ago!! I suppose if I count the years it could seem like it’s been “a long time”, but the journey is the destination, and all of these years are filled with days of love and loving and growth and fondly building a life together. It’s hard to complain about that. Like having the sun shining in my eyes, the discomfort is largely a matter of perspective. I can shift my thinking to change my perspective and gain a better (and more useful, loving) perspective.
…I smile and sip my coffee. It’s a good morning. A lovely day. It’s already time to begin again…
Evening Light 