Archives for posts with tag: practicing the practices
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New Day, New Beginning

March 2, 2023 //
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Another morning. Mostly pretty routine. I slept well – an auspicious beginning. My coffee is good. My bottle of water is cold. The gray skies hang over a fairly mild morning. My pain is well-managed. My heart “feels light”. So far, so good.

I breathe. Exhale. Sip my coffee. Listen to some tunes. Read an article about making shower steamers (which I’m eager to give a try, because they’re relatively costly for the delight they provide me, and seem easy enough to make myself, more affordably).

New day, new beginnings, right? Yesterday ended well, in spite of a relatively irksome commute home in the densest part of the evening rush. I enjoyed a lovely chill evening with my Traveling Partner. Did a couple chores. Ate fast food. Here it is already today… more new beginnings ahead. An entire new day to get things right (or wrong…). I feel the smile on my face deepen. It’s a good start to this particular day.

I lay out the workday. Figure out my plan. Look over my own “to do list” of things for home & hearth, and work those details into my plan for the day. (I thought that would be easier…)

…Almost the weekend…

Already time to begin again. 😀

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, gratitude, Healthy Living, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, The Art of Being

Dragging Myself Along

March 1, 2023 //
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I’m having my coffee, and it’s a routine enough weekday morning. Cold one. Winter. I woke too early, an hour ahead of my usual time. I woke to the sound of my wakeful Traveling Partner coughing in another room. Not a big deal; I’d planned to work in the city, and an early departure would mean less traffic. So, I got up, dressed, and headed to the office.

I enjoyed an uneventful drive into the city. Since that point, I’ve been just… here. More awake than not. Less interested in being awake than is ideal for a work day. Still hopeful that the rising sun and daylight beyond these windows will, at some point, rouse me from my stupor. There’s work to be done. I’ll get to that momentarily. For now, I’m just trying to properly wake up and shake off this feeling that I could definitely have gone back to bed and slept a few more hours. LOL

…Eventually, the office lights brighten signaling another arrival into the office. Only 08:00? Another early bird… lol

I yawn. Stare out the windows for a moment longer. Breathe. Exhale. Recognize that yes, even this moment will pass. Another sip of my coffee… I wonder what the day will hold? I try to recall whether I have any errands to run on the way home after a medical appointment this afternoon… I think I may actually get to just head on home. I’m still not certain, and I remind myself to ask my Traveling Partner sometime later. Now? Now is just “now”.

I begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Sleepless Nights, winter

The Here and The Now

February 28, 2023 //
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I am sipping my morning coffee. It’s already mostly gone cold before I ever thought to put a sentence together, this morning. I started the morning thinking about far away friends, and the vagaries of the job market, and the likelihood of further lay-offs, and the nature of greed. That was pretty grim shit, and I shifted gears as a responsible adult, and did my payday budget and sent that to my Traveling Partner for his review and contribution to our planning and “household wellness”; his suggestions and planning are an important part of us getting where we are together. It’s a team effort. A partnership. Once that was done, I found myself still feeling restless and distracted, with elevated background anxiety lurking in the general “quality of the day”.

…It was as I typed those words that I noticed; I’m not “here and now”, just now – I’m “then”. Some of it is old baggage, and I’m snagged on some past moment. Other details are the pitfalls of worrying over a future that is not now. Doesn’t even matter whether it ever will be; I’m all over the worrying about it, already, well ahead of any need to do so. lol Fucking hell.

I take a breath. Then another. I let my shoulders relax. I drink some water. Another breath. I exhale, relax. I get up and stretch for a moment, breathing. I walk over to the windows and look out, down “main street”, taking in the sparkle of the lights that festoon the trees, and the way they are reflected off the wet pavement. The morning is relatively mild, for February. The snow is gone. I step outside, breathe the fresh cold morning air, and feel the hint of a chill that immediately begins to soak into me. I breathe. Exhale. See the fog of my breath expand and dissipate. I relax, again. I repeat the experience, before I return to my desk. Better.

Here. Now. Just this.

It’s time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, The Art of Being, winter

Ready, Set… Repeat

February 27, 2023 //
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Another day. Specifically, another Monday. I’m not feeling blue about it, but I’m also not facing the day eagerly. I’m tired. Another night of marginally shitty sleep. I sit quietly at my desk in the empty co-work space, listening to artificial rain fall in the background. The sound of rain mingles with the sound of the heat and ventilation. Together, the sounds let me forget my tinnitus for a little while, which is pleasant. The coffee is… ordinary office coffee brewed by way of K-cups – not my first choice, honestly, but it’s here, convenient, and hot. It’ll help wake me up and get the day going.

It was a strange weekend. Not bad. Not great. Just … a couple days off. Nothing much really stands out about the weekend, aside from the shitty sleep I had (and that my partner also had). I’d very much like to move on from that.

I did get some studio time later in the day on Sunday. That was nice. Good weekend for it. Most of the rest of the weekend is a blur. Unremarkable, and little to say about it. And that’s 100% okay; most days (and experiences) are rather average, and may not be all that noteworthy. The persistent struggle to create notable events to discuss out of utterly mundane experiences that are entirely adequate (even pleasant) exactly as they are is not a helpful, useful, or positive quality. Maybe let that go? lol It’s a lot of work to try to make everything in life sound “amazing”. Some of life’s events (most of them, probably) aren’t all that exciting or share-worthy. Let that go and just enjoy the moments as they are. Easier.

I sip my coffee, reflecting on the incomplete work left drying in my studio. It’s nice to know it’s safe sitting there, ready for me to come back to it… whenever. Soon the work day will begin, and then it’ll be routines and meetings and agendas and task processing and reports. More mundanity. I don’t need any of that to be “exciting” – it has other valuable qualities in my experience of being human. 🙂

Pain was a bigger deal this past weekend than I’d have preferred. It got in the way of long walks (well, so did the cold morning temperatures, just wasn’t a great weekend for walking or hiking, in my opinion). It got in the way of romance (it’s hard even to want to cuddle when my pain flares up beyond a certain point). My Traveling Partner was hurting, too, having wrenched his elbow painfully on… was it Friday? I think so. It was still bothering him yesterday.

I made a point to meditate regularly and to do my PT stuff reliably. I figure either of those things have some potential to mitigate pain, so why would I not do them? I can’t report any major success, though I suppose it could have been much worse than it was. Hard to know how much good the meditation or PT really did me. I know it does help some, though, and more over time, so best to stick with it until I get those more lasting results. Sometimes that’s really what it’s about, you know? Patience, persistence, and practicing what we want to see become our default, until it does. 🙂

…What are you practicing?…

My Traveling Partner pings me about a package that hasn’t arrived. His ability to complete a work project is impaired by lack of a tool he ordered with expectations it would be delivered more than a week ago. He has an alternate solution in mind, and asks for my help. I eagerly agree to run an errand a little later that will help get him back on track in the shop. I like feeling useful, and my mood is a bit lifted as a result, in spite of my lack of restful sleep. Win! I “fill my tank” on the feeling of being there for my partner in a helpful way, and find myself hoping it will similarly boost his mood to have that support. We’re in this together, you know?

I sigh and look at the time. The work day commences (based on my calendar and planning) in just about two minutes. Enough time to finish my coffee, before I begin again. 🙂

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Categories Allegories, art and the artist, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights

Mired in Bullshit

February 26, 2023 //
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I’m tired. My Traveling Partner is tired. Neither of us slept well last night. It is what it is. I am working my ass off to avoid taking it personally (because, frankly, it isn’t at all personal). I’m tired, though. Cross. Less than ideally clear-headed. Struggling with pain and with “brain fog” (of the fatigue variety). I rather carelessly add chocolate to my second coffee, muttering something to myself about “dementors”, and take it into my studio to “do things with art”.

The recent snow is already mostly gone. I got some quick snapshots of it while it was fresh…

Just a picture of snow and trees, and blue skies.

I have this picture on one monitor, and on the other, I write, and listen to a video – some other artist, talking through how she does her thing. Fascinating. Inspiring.

…I’m so tired…

My Traveling Partner sticks his head into the studio and checks in on me. He’s kind and supportive, and maybe a bit “careful”. I’m okay with that; it’s evident that he does care, very much. We hang out for a few minutes. He asks how the art is going. I talk about an artist whose work I’m finding very inspiring today. He tells me he’s glad I’m in the studio, and that he sees how good it is for me to be working creatively. I feel visible and “heard”, in spite of my fatigue, moodiness, and potential irritability. I feel loved.

It’s unfortunate that we both have PTSD complicating our life together. It’s shitty that we each have sleep challenges – my own lifelong challenges, his challenges mostly to do with how mine affect me (and my snoring, just being real). When we both have a bad night, on the same night, it doesn’t much matter how good recent other nights have been, or that we were well-rested immediately prior – it’s just fucking hard. It’s easy – too easy – to be angry about it, and for that anger to become directed at this human being we love. Hard to “let it go”. Hard to stay confident there is no element of willful behavior to it. Hard to maintain a position of “non attachment” and to remain aware that it’s temporary. I sip my coffee – I’m already over it. The coffee, I mean. The rest of this shit still plagues me in quite a persistent human way.

I have headphones on as if I were listening to music. lol I’m not. I’m just… wearing headphones. I don’t think I’d even meant to put music on at all. I’m just quieting the world around me as much as I am able to do. It helps. Some days, particularly when I am fatigued or irritable, my noise sensitivity is just… ridiculous. Like, literally something I feel compelled to ridicule. It’s bad on this whole “how is this even a thing??” level.

I breathe. Sip my coffee (which I’m over, and wishing I had just poured a glass of water). Pull myself upright again, having noticed I had begun to slump. Fatigue nearly always also means heightened physical pain. I’m not sure it’s actually worse, or if I just lack the resilience to disregard the same pain I routinely push into the background. Pain sucks. You know what though? It’s not just me. My Traveling Partner too. Probably you, too, or someone you love. Eventually definitely you, too. All of us. We are mortal creatures. lol

I sigh out loud and call this “good enough”. My Traveling Partner asks me to give him a ride to a place. He doesn’t really need me for that, so I figure he’s just inviting me along. That’s sweet. I breathe. Relax. Begin again.

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Categories Allegories, anger, art and the artist, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, Frustration, Healthy Living, Love, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, The Art of Being
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