Archives for posts with tag: self-care

I’m sipping my coffee grateful to have it, and grateful to be done with the budgeting and payday stuff. I didn’t sleep as restfully as I’d have liked; my sleep was interrupted by my Traveling Partner (I think? Was I dreaming it?) who woke me up for some reason, in the wee hours. My sleep after that was less than ideal, restless and plagued by strange dreams of stress and failure. I woke up feeling cranky and anti-social – and I’m grateful that so far the office is empty of other voices. It’s just me, here, now. I’m good with that. I’m not really “fit for company” quite yet.

…So cranky…

I sip my coffee and find myself vexed by “what ifs” and “if onlys”, and this headache (which is reliably worse when I sleep poorly). I’m cross with myself for doing such a shitty job of adulting when I was younger, and I’m annoyed that I failed completely to “look after” my future self, from that youthful vantage point. I didn’t make much money back then… Hell, I don’t “make much money” now – just an amount that covers the expenses with some small amount left to protect against emergencies to come, and I’m grateful for it. It could be worse. I do okay these days, though I’ll never be “wealthy”. This morning, I find myself wishing and yearning and frustrated that I’m not in a very different place (for example, already retired and living contentedly in my “leisure years”, spending my hours painting, writing, reading, and gardening). These are the sorts of thoughts and feelings that often develop out of restless nights, fatigue, poor self-care, and the sour moods that result from those experiences. They aren’t any more “real” than the dreams that plagued my sleep – and certainly they have no power over me that I don’t give them myself. They are the sort of thing that can generate a fuck-ton of “second dart suffering”, or become the kernel of discontent that can later become a major meltdown or moment of drama “for no reason”. I breathe, exhale, and relax, and do my best to let that shit go. There’s no value in letting it fester.

Breathe. Exhale. Relax. Repeat as needed.

I sigh to myself. Things are not “perfect”, but they’re okay for most values of “okay”, and I’m fortunate – and grateful for my good fortune. I’m also pretty cranky, and I’ve got a headache. I work on keeping those experiences separated from each other, in my emotional experience of the moment; they are not in any way actually related to each other. Human primates are weird. When we’re cross or frustrated there’s this odd tendency to make it about “everything”, connecting dots that aren’t really connected, conflating one thing with another, and blowing shit way out of proportion over… nothing much at all. No doubt it served some evolutionary purpose intended to ensure our survival as a species, but it sure as shit isn’t very helpful now. lol

As with any choice, there are verbs involved.

I drag my consciousness back to this moment, right here. This moment in which I am 100% fine, thanks. It is an ordinary enough Friday morning, an ordinary enough summer day, the beginning of some new moment unrelated to the moments I’ve left behind – a new beginning. I’d honestly like to begin it with a damned nap – or some sort of notable relief for this fucking headache – but realistically, there’s this work day ahead of me, and I’ve got shit to do. “Nap time” is not now. I sip my coffee and remind myself that resources are always limited in this finite mortal life (for most people). It is the nature of resources to be limited. Time or money, or precious goods cultivated or dug from holes in the ground. Limits exist. So, we budget, and plan, and do our best to make all the pieces fit in our lives. It’s a very human experience.

The clock ticks off the minutes. I sigh again, frustrated by life’s limitations. Frustrated by feeling tired and cross with the world. Vexed by humanity.

…I let all that go, again

Finding a pleasant distraction in recent photographs can help lift my mood.

I flip through pictures from my camping trip to distract me from my irritability. I feel my face soften into a smile, and my shoulders relax. Some moments feel harder than they really are. We make so much of our own stress, and behave as if it is external to us. I know I can choose differently – it’s just not always easy to shift from intention to action. The effort matters quite a lot. The choices too. It’s necessary to accept that things can change – and that I can change them.

…I’m almost out of coffee…

Each time for the first time, each moment the only moment. ~Jon Kabat-Zinn

The clock ticks on. Limitations do exist. Choices and opportunities for change exist. The journey is the destination. In practical terms, I create my path as I walk it – the route is mine to choose. So… yeah. I’m cranky right now, but I can choose differently. Fuck I wish saying as much made it easier to do the verbs! There’s real effort involved, and I’d frankly rather just take a nap and begin again later… that’s not on today’s “menu”. lol It’s already time to begin again – and I’ve got choices to make, and verbs to do.

I’m sipping this excellent cup of coffee and enjoying one more morning off of work before resuming the day-to-day routine of work-errands-chores-cooking-sleeping, and hoping to keep up on everything before something unexpected goes awry. Real life. It’s nice to get an occasional break from the routine.

A new day, a familiar view.

I woke to a rainy morning. No surprise; it was the rain in the forecast that brought me home a day early. “Good fold”. My walk was slow and careful this morning – the hiking miles of the previous days have left me sore and aching, and my arthritis has flared up painfully (predictably enough). I still got out on the trail; it just doesn’t do to let good habits slide (for me) even for a couple days. Actions have consequences, and I try to choose wisely and work around my limitations.

…My results vary, of course…

Practices are about repetition – sometimes even things that I feel I’ve “mastered” need reinforcement, and frankly, when I think about those tasks I feel I’ve acquired some mastery over, I often find there’s more to learn. Practices are also about effort and will and consistency, and overcoming my own reluctance to change or inner resistance to coming face-to-face with things that really just don’t work, however much I may favor them. Humans being human, we tend to cling to what we think is right or true or useful, without examing our results too closely. It’s an unfortunate characteristic of human cognition; we like to take shortcuts. Sometimes I fail myself or fall short of my expectations. Human. When I do, I begin again.

“We become what we practice” is so very true it almost goes without saying, except that by not acknowledging that truth, I create the risk of stepping into some trap that is built on practices that are less than ideal. Doesn’t matter what I’m practicing; the more I practice that thing, the more it becomes characteristic of who I am. True for you, too. Unavoidably true. What are you practicing? Does it lead you to becoming the person you most want to be? If it doesn’t, then why are you practicing that?

Sometimes it helps to look beyond the obvious.

I sip my coffee and reflect on self-reflection, and the value of incremental change over time, for some little while. There is no one walking this earth who is utterly perfect without potential for change or growth. The journey is the destination, and if it were “easy” a lot of people would still manage to fail, somehow. Practicing the practices that make any one of us the person we most want to be still requires work, real work, with effort. This is more effective when we practice in a willful, self-aware way. This further requires self-reflection – an examination of our successes and failures, independent of the opinions of other people, reliant on our understanding of ourself and our goals. Each experience thus examined and understood, and explored for potential to learn and grow becomes another step on a path. The map is not the world. The plan is not the experience. We each have to walk our own mile – wherever that takes us. It’s easier to make a journey – any journey – with eyes open, and some light on the path.

Like it or not, you’ve got to walk your own path – and get somewhere.

When you stumble – begin again. Examine your failure, learn from that, do a little better than you did yesterday. Over time, you will have made a journey, and gotten yourself somewhere. Where does your path lead? This is your experience. Your life. Choose wisely. Keep practicing.

I am relaxing at camp, drinking coffee, and listening to the sound of little girls playing. It’s hard to be annoyed by their obvious joy and merriment as they play some version of make-believe.

My night passed in relative comfort, for some values of comfort, I suppose. It could have been worse, and I’m not ill, so there’s that. My guts were a mess and I definitely would have liked a camp site closer to the restrooms, but I got by without too much bother (trust me, you don’t want the details 😂) and eventually slept soundly and restfully.

One of my “neighbors”.

I sit with my coffee and my thoughts, watching the wildlife carefully exploring the edges of my camp. Birds. Bunnies. Squirrels. Chipmunks. Sooo many chipmunks! I got the solitude and quiet that I was looking for out on the trail. Camp is calm and relaxed but, at least for now, not especially quiet – but as I said, it’s hard to be annoyed by “a joyful noise”.

Another friendly visitor to my camp.

I hiked on aching legs, at a gentle pace, and got a couple miles in, early. I strolled down to the lake after my first coffee, and sat for a little while watching the reflections on the water. No drama. No fuss over this or that. No errands to run. No chores to do. Just me watching the minutes slip by like ripples, feeling the breeze and listening to the sounds of birdsong. Quite a lovely morning.

Reflections on the lake, a calm cloudy summer morning.

Now back at camp, I’m doing more or less the same thing; sitting quietly, listening to the sound of the forest around me, and sipping a cup of coffee that is much better than the first. 😆 While I am grateful for this good cup of coffee, I have no explanation for the variance in quality – and I don’t bother looking for it. There’s no need. It’s enough to enjoy the moment and to appreciate the good cup of coffee. This is often true of circumstances. It may be enough to be present, to be grateful, to enjoy the moment, without seeking to explain it, define it, or troubleshoot some detail. So… I just go with it. It’s enough as it is.

There are so many paths to choose from…

I watch the chipmunks creeping closer. There’s a particularly bold one who definitely wants to check out the top of the picnic table, but hasn’t decided whether I’m a threat. I sit quietly, waiting, watching. Camp is getting noisier; campers are preparing to leave. I look over my trail map, and consider which trail to attempt next. The choice is mine – and eventually it’ll be time to begin again. For now there’s no hurry, just chipmunks, and this moment. 😁

The days are definitely getting shorter. I see it in the mornings when I arrive at the trailhead. I’m no longer missing the sunrise. This morning’s sky is a pale pastel blue hue, streaked with a delicate pink. Lovely.

I walk down the trail, listening to the sound of my footsteps crunching along the gravel trail. It is a useful distraction from my tinnitus, which is quite loud, a piercing shrill whine in the background of, well, of everything, every moment.

Voices at a favorite stopping point; I walk on.

I’ve got a bit of shopping this morning, and it’s time to stop by the storage unit to grab my camping gear and load it in the car, for tomorrow’s departure. Doesn’t really feel like work at all, though there is effort involved. The camp fridge is already plugged in at the house, getting cold. I’m looking forward to this camping trip. The shorter days are not discouraging me, and the cot I picked up on sale before the last trip proved its worth. I expect to sleep pretty comfortably.

I finally get to a pleasant spot to stop that feels solitary, though I suspect it is an illusion to do with timing, more than anything else. There were quite a few cars parked at the trailhead this morning.

…We are rarely ever truly alone, and “privacy” is a concept quickly being lost in our “always on” digital age. I find this vexing; I enjoy solitude…

I sigh quietly to myself and let all that go. I sit with my thoughts awhile, enjoying the sunrise, though it’s nothing fancy or super colorful this morning, I’m simply grateful to see another one. Definitely something I find worthy of appreciation, life itself. It hasn’t been reliably kind to me over the course of this one mortal lifetime, and I sometimes think I’m very lucky indeed to have made it this far, at all. I’m glad I stuck it out and worked through a lot of my bullshit and baggage, instead of checking out in some moment of despair. It’s been a worthwhile journey, and I’ve got much to be grateful for.

I sit listening to the faint sound of traffic on the highway adjacent to the meadow on the other side of the trees that surround me. I watch a curious chipmunk creeping closer to me, one little darting step at a time. I’m disappointed that I have no seeds or nuts with me, though I know it’s a bad practice to feed wild creatures, I am always tempted. The chipmunk comes all the way to the edge of my boot. We make eye contact, and she darts away quickly in a single jump followed by scurrying steps, and disappears into the weeds.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I’ve got a list of chores to get done before I leave for a few days of luxurious solitude in the trees. Mostly routine stuff I’d be doing on any weekend, just compressed into one day, with some add-ons intended to provide for my Traveling Partner’s comfort while I am away. I smile, taking note of how much less work that is; he’s come a long way since his surgery.

Well hell, this walk isn’t going to finish itself, and I’ve got this list. The clock is ticking onward (always). I guess it’s time to begin again.

Stormy clouds to the west, and to the north. The rising sun illuminates the oaks and the meadow grass. Morning. I slept well and deeply and somehow still woke feeling so sleepy… Even now, I feel pretty sure I could just go back to bed.

A new day

I yawn and walk down the trail, as much out of habit as from any particular interest. I’d rather be napping. lol How am I so tired?

The stormy looking clouds get darker and stormier looking. I yawn. I’ve got an appointment later. I’m grateful; it’s the one treatment that really helps my headache. I want to be looking forward to that, but I’m pretty stuck on the awareness of fatigue and sleepiness. I yawn so hard my eyes water and the tears roll down my cheeks. I get to my halfway point, eventually, wishing I could just lay down and sleep for a few minutes.

No idea why I am so sleepy… I didn’t set an alarm. I woke when I woke, even slept in almost an hour, and went to bed pretty early. Another yawn. I sit staring numbly at the stormy sky. Nothing to do about it. I watch the clouds. Write a bit. Yawn again.

Eventually I’ll get to my feet and trudge back up the trail to the car, and head to my appointment. Eventually, I’ll begin again. Some days it’s harder than others. Some days I’m tired and walking feels like real work. Very human. I’m not even complaining, not really, just a little vexed and a bit mystified. And tired. So tired. That’s okay; it’ll pass.

I get to my feet, and walk on in spite of my fatigue.