Archives for posts with tag: practicing the practices

It’s time to survive a grim sort of count down. 1460 days to the inauguration of the next president, on January 20, 2029. It seems a long time, I know. It could happen sooner, after a fashion, mortality being what it is, and circumstances being unpredictable; the future is not written. Make no mistake, we’re all in for a rough ride…unless, of course, you’re part of the billionaire class, and also a favorite of the current occupant of the office of President of the United States of America. I’m very much hoping – and clinging to that hope – that this administration does not bring the fall of our democractic republic. That would be…horrifying. Not that we’re aren’t already well on our way to face a few horrors. The wheels are in motion.

(It’ll be easier to get through the next four years if you refrain from doomscrolling news media or social media feeds.)

Have you read On Tyranny? It’s a good read, and you may find either comfort or useful tools therein. I definitely recommend it. Amazon has it, of course. So does Powell’s, and AbeBooks. Stand up for yourself and your family, your community, and people who are clearly at a disadvantage under this administration. Be the best version of the human being you most want to be that you are able to be. Speak truth to power, and don’t allow yourself to be talked out of what you know you’ve seen yourself. Hard times are ahead for that actual truth. Seek ethical fact-checking, and don’t believe the hype. These things do matter. It is unfortunate that so much of our world has become a race to generate revenue by a handful of already sickeningly wealthy hoarders of cash and corrupt seekers of power. It’s pretty grotesque. My personal vote for the two most toxic characteristics of human beings are greed and pettiness.

…1460 days…

I breathe, exhale, and relax. The here and now does not have to be eternally infused with all of that toxic bullshit. I’m home sick, which sucks, after a lovely visit with a dear friend, which was quite wonderful. My Traveling Partner and I have a good thing together, which is something I value, enjoy, and cherish with my whole heart. I sit with my gratitude, and let that fortify me for troubled times ahead. The Anxious Adventurer is a good guy, doing his best, learning and growing and working on being the best version of himself he knows how to be – while also figuring out who exactly that actually is. That’s a lot to do. He’s doing pretty well.

(We’re all in this together – and we’re each having our own experience. Each of us sees the world and these trying times through a slightly different lens.)

As a woman, I don’t feel at all “valued” or “defended” by this administration’s immediate attack on people who are not so simply defined as either man or woman, in fact, I’m insulted by the narrow stupidity of it. If “defending women” were any sort of sincere goal, we would have equality (in opportunities, in pay, in healthcare), and consent would be the common language of the land – expected, understood, and honored – and our government would not be filled with rapists (which it most probably is, based on the choices for incoming cabinet members, and the behaviors of many who have held office). The concerns of my Traveling Partner and his son may be somewhat different, focused on the things that seem most important and relevant to their own experiences and perspective. That makes sense.

(I plan to listen with care when people tell me what frightens them most, what fills them with outrage, and what they need to thrive. I can at least make the attempt. I hope we all make that attempt.)

I sip my coffee and let my mind move on. I will hope for the best, and be open to “things being okay” for some values of okay. It doesn’t seem likely that this administration has good intentions (at all), or any will to create a better world for every citizen, resident, and human being (it’s already pretty clearly not the goal) – but I won’t try to undermine the potential for success. Maybe they’ll stumble upon it through failure to understand the consequences of their decision making? Maybe they’ll simply fail at their “evil plan”? (Yes, I do see it that way.) Incompetence and gridlock are as much likely outcomes as any measure of actual success for this administration.

I sigh to myself. Still thinking about this garbage. I let it go again, and think about other things. Mostly art. Also books I’d like to have and to read. I’d thought it might be nice to obtain Andrew Lang’s fairy books, maybe as first editions… now I’m thinking it makes much more sense to have non-fiction volumes that instruct and guide and preserve knowledge of various crafts one might need to survive harder times. The Foxfire books have been on my list a long while… I smile to myself. I like books. I’ve grown much less fond of the internet. Books and conversations with real people – more of those things might save the world. I think about that while I sip my coffee. I think about making a trip down south to visit old friends and have real conversations.

…I’ll get over this sickness, then I’ll begin again…

I arrive at the trailhead before dawn. Already, the sun rises earlier and I’ll likely see it as I reach the end of my hike. One last breakfast with The Author before he returns home and life settles back into something like a routine (after a flurry of doctor’s appointments). This morning is not an unpleasant one, nonetheless I feel uneasy; it is inauguration day. The start of Trump II, and I’m not reluctant to admit that I am concerned about the outcome(s).

… I have my own thoughts answering the question “how the fuck did we get here?, but I’m sure everyone does, and mine are perhaps best left for another time…

I breathe, exhale, and relax, and pull myself back to this quiet, pleasant, moment right here, on the edge of a favorite trail, a few minutes before daybreak. Another breath. I’m in a lot of pain this morning. It’s just my arthritis; the weather is quite cold and my pain is reliably worse in cold weather. (This is the likely cause – or one of them – for so many people moving to sunny warm places to spend their retirement years.) I’ve got my cane. I put on gloves and scarf. I’ll warm up as I walk. My pain will be both improved and worsened when I get back to the car. My osteoarthritis stiffness and pain will have eased some with movement. The pain in my left ankle and right knee will increase with each step. I snarl something irritable at past versions of myself for not taking better care of this fragile vessel – then remind myself to practice better self-care, myself, now, too.

…Time keeps passing. Aging is

Still. Things could be worse. I passed several homeless people walking their carts of belongings down frosted sidewalks on this icy cold morning. I am fortunate to be housed, warm and secure. I’ve got good healthcare coverage (for many values of good, though limited by our 100% craptacular US healthcare system) – I can (and should) continue to work with my (new)(good) physician to improve my health and manage my pain more effectively. My Traveling Partner’s care is also in pretty good hands, and we have each other’s support and care, too. Things could definitely be worse. We never know when they might be.

I lace my boots, and think my thoughts, before I hit the trail. Martin Luther King Jr Day, today. I wonder what that means to people… Shouldn’t it be more than just a day off from work? I think about the ways in which the world has changed since I was a child, in the early 60’s… Pretty significant changes, mostly profoundly good, but often seeming “not enough” – how is there even any discussion over the Equal Rights Amendment? It’s 2025, how are we still at war? How are poverty, disease, and inequality still major, noteworthy, progress impeding, concerns around the world? How are there still people who want to work but can’t find jobs? How are there people who want to dedicate their lives to creative endeavors but can’t find (or afford to take) the time?

I sigh to myself. I’ll walk with my thoughts awhile, solve nothing (but maybe learn something about myself), and then begin again.

I’m sipping my coffee reflecting on love, life, and how incredibly fortunate I feel, how grateful I am, for the partnership I share with my beloved Traveling Partner. Fuck, this has been a hard year (and then some) since his injury back in – was it November? December? – of 2023. Learning to be a caregiver, not just a partner, friend, and lover, definitely showed off some of my unpreparedness in the vast world of adulting skillfully. I had (have) a lot to learn. I’m glad things are improving (every day) now. I feel relieved. Did I say already? I feel grateful. Fortunate. G’damn it could have been so much worse.

We become what we practice. Once we are adults, our quality of life is largely in our own hands. Not entirely, to be sure, because we don’t all face the same circumstances, and just keeping it real – “the playing field” is not level. No one is in this alone, but we’re each having our own experience, and there is no question that some people are dealt a far more valuable hand of cards in the game than others. So…yeah. There’s that. Beyond that, though, we each have (and make) choices. Those choices really matter. Giving up on that is an unfortunately common mistake, but it’s an easy one to make. I think about that, and times that I’ve abdicated my responsibility to myself, yielded to cynicism, bitterness, or feelings of futility, and made things so much worse than they could have been, if I had chosen differently. Worth reflecting on, but as with so many such things – the lessons we learn after-the-fact can’t help us in the moment. I breathe, exhale, and relax. Sip my coffee. Listen to the woosh of the ventilation in the office – and feel grateful. Love has made a huge difference in how I make choices, and what matters most. I would not be the woman I am without the love I share with my Traveling Partner. Grateful barely describes my feelings.

“Communion” 2010

I feel so loved. My Traveling Partner can (and does) come to me openly and talk about his feelings and his worries. I can go to him when I am feeling feelings, and share my experience and feel supported and heard. Do we have challenges? Sure. We’re human beings, being human. This love, though… g’damn, am I wrapped in love. I woke this morning feeling loved. I’ll work through the day feeling it, too. It’s reciprocal. I love this man with a love that I don’t even know how to contain. Is it reasonable, practical, or even “sane”? Hell if I know – I don’t even care about that. I just love him. He loves me back. That’s worth something in this fairly scary world of chaos, violence, and human suffering. It’s something to “come home to”. I sip my coffee thinking of the moments we shared last night, talking and connecting, and loving each other. I hope every time I’m ever annoyed or angry over something trivial or stupid that my memory will carry me back to last night, and remind me that I am loved, and that love matters most. I hope the same for him – I can be damned frustrating to deal with sometimes – I hope he always feels loved, in spite of that. I sigh quietly and smile.

Is love a journey or a destination? Or… is love a verb?

…To experience an uncompromising, enduring love for so very long is a rare thing. For me, there’s only been this one, and all other relationships and moments of affection are dim lights compared to this roaring blaze. Love is always uniquely special, as feelings go, and I can only say again how fortunate I feel, and how grateful, to experience this one. This moment, here, now, wrapped in love – and all the others that my Traveling Partner and I have shared. I hope the journey goes on “forever” (or some close approximation of that idea), it’s been a journey worth sharing with this singular human being who loves me so…

“Cherry Blossoms” 14″ x 20″ acrylic on canvas. 2011

I sit quietly, smiling. Nothing else, really, just sipping my coffee and thinking about love. Work can wait on lovers, surely…?

So much of life is about love and loving.

My Traveling Partner is more than my spouse – so much more – he is my best friend. My muse. The inspiration behind so much of my artistic work over the past 15 years. The maker of so many delightful moments, and thoughtful things I use every day. I’d be pretty fucking lost without him – and very alone.

An alternate spelling of “I love you”.

I think about writing my beloved a love note, and realize as I sit here that I sort of already have. It never feels like enough; the love we share is so huge in the experience of a single moment. lol Filled with quiet joy, and wrapped in love, I begin again.

So, the tl;dr on the visit to the new doctor is that I have a new doctor, and feel pretty well cared for, and one result is a renewed feeling of commitment to my health, generally, and less frustration and fewer feelings of futility about the work involved in being in good health. I’ve got a way to go, and there’s work to do. Predictably enough, I got pretty lax about things like my diet over the holiday season. Time to return to good practices and healthy choices, and there are a bunch of fucking verbs involved. lol

I spent some time this morning, over my black coffee (iced, no sugar) thinking about diet, nutrition, exercise, and cooking for a family while also staying focused on my own needs (and limitations). There are some foods I really like, that I can’t have (or have to limit very strictly), and that just has to be a practical part of the day-to-day without fussing or frustration. Examples? Cheese. Butter. Sugar. Non-nutritive carbs. Those are the biggies. I definitely enjoy cheese…and if I’m having cheese, I probably want that on a cracker… which are purely empty carbs with added sugar. So… no. Butter? Damn, I like cooking with butter. I don’t like the results with butter substitutes, and some recipes don’t turn out quite as well using oil – even healthy oil like avocado or olive. So… yeah. Butter needs to go, too, at least on my meals. Sugar? Just being real, that shit’s basically poison to me. I don’t need to be convinced. The hard part isn’t giving up gummy sweets (which I do really like) – the hard part is strictly limiting fruits to appropriate, measured, controlled, limited portions. These necessary restrictions don’t exactly leave me starving for flavorful meals. lol I’m not that fussy an eater, and I really like squash, and spinach, and eggs, and lean chicken, and broccoli, and beans, and nuts, and salads… so… yeah. Change is. I just have to do the work and demonstrate the commitment and the discipline, and I know that I feel better when I do. Choices.

So… there’s that…

Then… I need to do a little more, and do it a little faster. Basically, I need to make a point to burn those calories. lol I walk – but I’m not walking at the brisk pace I once did. I’m more… ambling along pleasantly enjoying the scenery. I’m in pain, and pushing harder isn’t easy. I’m grateful to be walking at all. Still, it’s time to pick up the pace and make real gains in strength. My doctor was frank with me, and also kind and encouraging. I know I’ve got this – it’s just that there really are verbs involved, and I’ve really got to do them for myself. Maybe that means on some days throwing in an extra walk, just around the neighborhood, at a proper quick pace with my cane and without taking pictures of flowers? I can easily get a mile or more in 20 minutes if I maintain a steady pace – and I know I should be able to do that without being breathless, at all. It’s worth doing. The more able I am, the more I’ll be able to do. More trails become attainable, greater distances become practical for a day hike. It’s worth the effort – and it’s okay that it will be an effort. That’s part of the point; doing the verbs.

This isn’t about new year’s resolutions, and these aren’t unexpected or unreasonable changes to need to make. I’ve been here before. I’m here again. That’s okay – it’s time, that’s all. The holidays are over and there’s work to do to be healthy and fit. Will I fail? Fuck yeah, probably; I’m very human. Will I begin again when I do? Definitely. I’ve got a goal, and a journey ahead, and it’s my path – I’ve got to walk it myself.

I smile and finish my coffee. I feel okay. I slept restlessly, and woke in pain, but neither of those things are out of the ordinary, nor do they cause me any particular concern, they’re just details to work around, and to cope with. It’s a very human experience. I’m feeling pretty encouraged and motivated. It’s time to begin again. Again.

I’m awake. No point in it. I hear my beloved Traveling Partner sleeping in the adjacent room. I hope not to wake him. I tried just going back to sleep. Tonight, that doesn’t work. I’m awake. It’s been an hour of quiet sleeplessness.

I get up. Take a Benadryl (sometimes that helps). I make some Calm and drink that. Sometimes that helps. I put Capsaicin on painful places. Sometimes that helps. I meditate. Stretch. Breathe quietly and calmly in the darkness. I read for a little while.

… Still awake…

Well, shit. I sigh and shrug, unseen in the quiet darkness. I try “changing the channel” on the little noise generator the VA sent me. Huh. I feel sleepy…a bit, at least. I write a few words, let that feeling of sleepiness catch up to my busy mind.

… I try sleep again…