Archives for posts with tag: put your own oxygen mask on first

Being cared for comes in a lot of forms. Yesterday, it came in the form of a 3M NIOSH half-mask respirator, on a morning so hazy with wildfire smoke I definitely should not have been out in it.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

I returned home to begin my work day, and greeted my partner. He noticed my background stress level seemed high (and nothing going on to cause that) and asked me what was up, or suggested I take a breath, something – I don’t recall that part clearly, I only remember looking at him, trying to take a deep breath, and putting my hand to my chest and choking out something to do with how much my lungs seemed to hurt when I breathe. He looked alarmed and went into action. It was almost immediate; I had a mask in my hand, my Traveling Partner’s help with fitting it, and confirmation of the dangerous air quality. Putting the mask on, I felt almost immediate relief. I also felt very loved, and well-cared for.

…I wore that mask all day while I worked…

Being cared for takes a lot of forms. Some are obvious. Some less so. Some are life-saving measures. Some are conveniences. This morning, I enjoyed another moment of care; my beloved sent me a message for first thing, strictly cautioned me against going outside unless the AQI was better than 50, and provided me a wee guide to what my morning could look like (knowing my routine would be thrown off). He made me a list, and I checked it off with care: sleep in until 6, make coffee, put on jazz, make-up, and a smile, and start my day. He was quite right; it has made for a lovely beginning.

Today begins well. AQI is down to 90 – not ideal, but I don’t need the mask this morning to breathe comfortably. This cup of coffee is good. I did not rush through my wake-up or my make-up. I feel comfortable and unbothered. The work day is ahead, and in spite of following a wholly different routine this morning, the day feels very much on track to be quite a good one. I breathe, exhale, and relax. Feels good. No irritated eyes this morning. No raw scratchy throat. No pain when I inhale. Better.

I smile thinking of something I learned from my Traveling Partner, it’s not super relevant right at the moment, but the phrase is in my thoughts; “put your own oxygen mask on first”. Makes sense. If you don’t practice effective self-care, how do you preserve the capacity to help others? I was pretty stupid yesterday, going out for my walk without checking the AQI first, knowing the previous day had been hazy, and that we are more or less surrounded by wildfires right now. Smart would have been checking the AQI and staying home. Smarter still would have been thinking ahead the day prior, discussing the weather with my beloved, and establishing a plan, and maybe getting out that mask and having it ready when I needed it! Hopefully I learn from this. I had the knowledge. I had the tools. I failed on the verbs. Very human.

I sip my coffee and reflect on circumstances, before I begin again.

It’s still quite dark. Daybreak will be soon. It is one of those moments that feels hopeful and filled with potential. I sit with that feeling, savoring it, and enjoying the experience of existing.

… Sometimes that’s enough…

As I pulled into the parking lot at the trailhead, I saw another car parked on the far side, at the edge of the lights. A man was laying on top of the car, looking up at the sky. Not the sort of thing I see, most days, it is unusual to the point of being noteworthy, most especially on a rainy cloudy morning – there are no stars visible to gaze upon. I park well-away from him, partly to avoid disturbing his peace, partly to avoid disturbing my own. Peace is hard enough to find, right now, and I’m happy to be considerate of someone’s small success when I happen upon it.

The morning smells of rain. The trail is still wet with rain that fell during the night. The ground on either side is squishy, muddy, and slick. I don’t mind any of that, but I’m glad I wore my fleece over my sweater, and that I carried my rain poncho with me (handy for creating a dry place to sit). I look into the darkness of the trees at the edge of the creek. There’s nothing really to see just yet, it’s too dark. Looking across the vineyard, back toward the parking, I see the lights spaced regularly, creating mysterious shapes among the oaks along the trail on that side. There are no real mysteries here, just illusions created by patterns of light and darkness. True of a lot of circumstances. I sit with that thought awhile.

I’m honestly okay right now, for most values of okay. That’s something. I can’t change the world with a single decision in any detectable way, and certainly life, more broadly, is not “all about me”… but…me being okay, myself, right now, is a good enough starting point for most journeys. Definitely this one. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I turn my attention to my own subjective experience. I feel this moment, and allow it to be enough. I need this peace. The chaos of the world won’t dissipate because I’m staring it the face, neither will it worsen if I’m not scrambling to do something, say something, right fucking now. I’m not that important – few of us are. Even among the powerful, very few people are so significant that their moments drive the world, and of those who are? I have no direct influence over them, nor, frankly, do I have to allow them such influence over me. There is distance between us, and in that distance, I can find a moment of peace.

I breathe, exhale, and relax, sitting in quiet contentment on a weekday morning. I am grateful to be employed, and to mostly have my shit together, most of the time. It’s enough, generally speaking, and chasing more has rarely resulted in anything but stress and misery, for me. Exploring sufficiency has been more worthwhile and satisfying. (I’m not seeking to discourage your ambition; we are each walking our own path.) As it turns out, “enough” really is enough.

A sprinkle of rain begins falling. My mind wanders to dinner, later. I smile when I think about how much my Traveling Partner enjoys my cooking. I feel supported and appreciated when I think about the help I’ve been getting around the house lately, from both my beloved, and from the Anxious Adventurer. Without that help, I quickly exhaust myself trying to do everything, all the time. That exhaustion becomes enduring fatigue that undermines my emotional and physical wellness – and my ability to find peace. This is better. I remind myself to say “thank you” explicitly.

I sigh contentedly, as I stand and stretch. It’s a new day, although sunrise hasn’t yet happened. It’s only barely daybreak, but I walked a bit further this morning, and didn’t walk the short loop. It’ll be a longer walk back to the car… I think it’s already time to begin again.

… I found my peace out here on the trail. Where will you find yours?

Oh hey there – you okay? How’s your day going? Are you stressed out by all the horrible shit going on in the world? Genocides? Wars? The possible end of American democracy? The return of fascism? The rise of global authoritarianism? Xenophobia, racism, misogyny, and violence? It’s a lot to consider and to worry about and endure. How are you holding up? What are you doing to take care of yourself and nurture your own good heart? What are you practicing? How are you giving yourself a break from all of that to focus on self-care, and tending the garden of your heart?

When was the last time you set aside all the stressful worrisome details to take a walk in the sunshine on a Spring morning, or sit in a garden watching the breeze stir the flowers and breathe the scent of them? Something to consider – don’t get so wound up in the cares of the world that you fail to take care of yourself. Do something nice for yourself – surely you deserve your own attention, affection, and consideration?

…”Put your own oxygen mask on first”…

Lemon-scented geranium on a drizzly morning in Spring.

It’s a lovely Friday morning. I haven’t yet gotten a walk in, my leg is still a bit twinge-y and aching, but I’ll get to it before the sun fully rises and the heat of the day begins. Yesterday was like summer, and got quite warm. Today looks like another summery day. The garden will love it, and I’m grateful to have the help of the Anxious Adventurer – the lawn is thriving under his care, and I am not stressed out about it. I breathe, exhale, and relax, and chuckle to myself about the deer – and the blue jays. The blue jay that follows me around the garden with such curiosity also appears to be the creature eating my strawberries. lol It’s hard to be mad about it. I enjoy the creatures as much as I enjoy the garden, and I’m fortunately not dependent on the garden to feed myself or my family – I take a moment of gratitude to recognize what a privilege that actually is, even in the 21st century.

“Whimsy” blooming.

More and more of the roses are blooming, and I delight in the knowledge that they will be what I see when I return home. I’ll “walk through the garden” as I come up the walk to the front door. I’m grateful to enjoy the little house I call home. My Traveling Partner puts so much thought and work into making things to improve our quality of life, and even simply to delight me. I’m fortunate to be wrapped in his love. Even in the office, everywhere I look there is some little token of his affection and high regard, from the mouse I use (which he recommended to me) to the little desk caddy (that he made for me) to the earrings I am wearing this morning (another item he made with me in mind). I sigh and smile, feeling contented and loved.

This new day is just beginning. I have choices how to spend my time, and where to put my attention. (So do you.) I could choose to doom-scroll the news feeds, and allow myself to get all spun up over terrible shit I can’t personally change. I could spiral into anger and despair over what a terrible place the world seems to be right now. On the other hand, I could choose gratitude, and allow myself the opportunity to embrace the small joys in my life right now, to appreciate my good relationships, and my good fortune, and to consider what sorts of small things I can do to make the experience of my coworkers, friends, and loved ones better in some small way, even if only by being the best human being I can be, with the resources at hand, and by not making shit worse in the world. It’s something. It’s not even a small thing, if practiced consistently. We can change the world by changing our corner of it. There are verbs involved.

…Speak truth to power…

Choose sides. Choose wisely. Become the person you most wish to be. Practice the practices that nurture and heal you. Follow Wheaton’s Law. Incremental change comes over time, and is the result of so many small choices. Maybe go outside and get some fresh air and sunshine, and watch the Spring become summer? I’m not telling you what to do, I’m just saying it’s a good time to begin again.

I’m sitting quietly, waiting for the sun.. short walk today and then hurrying home. It’s an important appointment day for my Traveling Partner and I took the day off. No time pressure beyond leaving on time.

I’m sitting comfortably in my partner’s pick-up truck, instead of cozily in my Mazda. I feel safe and it’s an interesting shift in perspective. I took the truck to more efficiently prepare for the hour long drive a little later; I filled the gas tank and cleaned the windows. The Mazda’s stiff sporty suspension makes for an uncomfortable ride for someone with an injury. I won’t make that mistake again!

Breathe, exhale, relax.

Today is 100% about getting my Traveling Partner where he needs to go and taking care of his needs. Once we’ve returned home, I can take care of mine. I took the entire day off in part because yesterday afternoon was so much intense manual labor (moving all the furniture around in the bedroom for more efficient use of the space, at my Traveling Partner’s request), I was just too exhausted to face starting the work week after also hustling to get to and from the appointment in the morning. I’m just not up to it, and I need more time to take care of myself, too.

Today though…an opportunity to demonstrate love and provide care. This is sometimes difficult shit. Injured (or sick) people are often not their best selves. The demands can be substantial and difficult to meet satisfactorily. It’s complicated. Am I up to the challenge? Today I am hoping to avoid taking small moments of discord personally. I’m committed to being pleasant, agreeable and available to support my partner. I’m hoping to avoid being a bitch about… anything, really, but most particularly the basic care my partner truly needs and which I committed to providing. It’s hard sometimes. It’s a lot. It’s okay; this too will pass.

So, a new day begins with a new sunrise. I’ll walk a familiar trail – and follow my path with care and love and willing to begin again, as often as I must. Probably won’t be a perfect effort; I’m not a perfect person. My results vary. I have choices. I hope to make wise ones.

…I remind myself to breathe…

It’s time to begin again.

I take a quick gulp of my iced coffee and lace up my boots to get a quick walk in, before the work day begins. My thoughts are with my Traveling Partner. I am already dealing with feelings of guilt and regret for agreeing to come into the office today. I hope to make it a fairly short day, which causes me some anxiety. No reason for that (the anxiety), really, my boss and my work team have been very supportive of the time I have needed to take to support my partner, first while injured, and now following his surgery.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I remind myself that anxiety is a liar. I remind myself that my Traveling Partner was okay with me going into the office today, and that he’s been making great progress on his recovery, and even that he won’t be alone all day because he has a friend coming around to visit a little later. I still feel distracted by the distance from my partner, concerned for his well-being, and worried in an abstract persistent way. Perhaps this is a predictable bit of the slow return to normalcy? I sigh and grab my cane; I no longer take walks without it.

Every journey begins somewhere.

I get back to the car, fleece unzipped, warmed through from walking briskly, and pleased to have covered a good distance in half my usual time. Sunrise is just getting going. Daybreak comes much later than a few weeks ago. My back aches this morning and my tinnitus is loud in my ears, but my headache isn’t particularly bad, and that feels like a win. It’s enough to build the day on. I sit for a moment watching the clouds hustle across the morning sky, shades of gray with hints of blue. I sip my coffee and breathe the meadow-sweet air. This is a pleasant moment. I don’t rush it, instead I linger here long enough to really feel it.

Last week is a blur; too much too fast, too tense, too emotional, and too little sleep. I’m glad it’s behind me; it may have been one of the most emotionally difficult weeks of my life. It sure feels that way from this vantage point, but it’s still very “fresh”, and no doubt my perspective is skewed. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I let it go (at least for now; there’s more to learn from that experience).

Hints of pink in the clouds skittering by remind me to check the time. I finish swapping back from boots to shoes. I take my morning meds with a swallow of coffee and silently complain about the pain I’m in, before thinking about the pain my partner still experiences as he heals and the many months of more severe pain he had to endure to get to this point. Perspective. (In spite of the many tense moments between us recently, I miss him dreadfully right now, although I am only 20 miles away, and only for a couple hours at this point.)

I sigh and admit to myself the inevitable; it’s time to begin again.

Like it or not, you’ve got to walk your own mile.

[Some time about 2 hours later]

It sometimes feels as if “life” and “change” are entirely interchangeable words. On my way between my walk and the office, my Traveling Partner phoned. He needed my help, and it really highlighted the necessity. Non-negotiable; I need to be there. I turned the car around immediately and headed back. It’s one thing to be away an hour, maybe two, but all day? I can’t. I really can’t. Not yet. Fuck.

I reach out to my work team and reset expectations. No problem there; everyone’s good with it. I reach out to the Anxious Adventurer; can he be there sooner, and be immediately helpful while I’m on my way back? He can. I feel relieved, and alert my Traveling Partner that help is on the way – and I am, too. Change is.

It’s later. My partner is resting. I’m settled into work. “Nothing to see here.” It’s a Tuesday. I’ve got this cup of coffee, and this day plan in front of me. Routine? Hardly. It is what it is… And what it is, is time to begin again. Again.