It’s evening. The long holiday weekend is over. Pie has been eaten. A holiday meal has been enjoyed. Thanks have been given, and the holiday season has begun. The tree is up – and even decorated. It’s a lovely quiet evening.
One of the new ornaments, made with love by my Traveling Partner.
I’ve managed to irritate my Traveling Partner in some small way. Not with any intent to do so. Not even sure what exactly has annoyed him, but I don’t care to make it any worse, and we have spent the entire weekend together almost continuously. lol I head to the studio to work on the holiday cards; they need to be in the mail within the week to reach everyone before the Giftmas holiday. I look over my materials. Pick out some patterns I like and get to work on my layout. Using the Cricut gets easier with every project (even for me! lol).
It’s a nice sort of break. I make time for a moment of writing, too. It’s been quite a lovely weekend, and I’d like to make a point of appreciating that, and reflecting on this tremendous quantity of joy – soak in it, and soak it up, and fill my heart with all this love. It’s a nice way to spend a few minutes.
Making time for creative projects also fills me with joy. It’s a way of creating joy out of chaos or conflict that I find useful; step back from the mess, and create something new and beautiful. It’s a form of tidying up, I suppose, which also calms me and fills me with joy. Creating order from disorder is, for me, a self-care practice. 😀
How was your holiday? Have you taken time to cherish the moments of joy? Have you shared them with others in conversation or correspondence? If the holiday was less than ideally joy-filled, putting focus on the things that did work is a nice way to bring some balance to your recollections. I breathe. Relax. Smile. It’s been a lovely holiday, and it doesn’t require much in the way of effort to reflect on the joy it brings me – but what does require effort is to make the time to do that willfully, with intention. So, I do that while I’m taking time for myself in the studio. Creative work. Emotional work. They “play nicely together”. 😀
I woke to my silent alarm this morning feeling vaguely uneasy. It developed into a pretty notable moment of anxiety in the time between getting dressed and making my way to the living room, where my Traveling Partner was sitting, already awake, headphones on watching something or other on YouTube. I’d planned to work from home, although he had more than hinted that it would be a good day (for me) to go to the office (for him). I figured I’d just get a walk in, early, let him sleep awhile, then work from home, but… why the hell would I drag him along if my anxiety was going to flare up?
“Anxiety” 2011
I could hear the rain hitting the rooftop vent while I was in the bathroom getting ready for work. There’d be no walk this morning – that was when I decided to make the drive into the city after all. Maybe traffic would be light, being the day before a holiday? (It was.) Maybe the office would be quite comfortable since the HVAC was repaired yesterday? (It is.) Maybe I’d feel more focused, and less inclined toward being anxious if I were wrapped in the peculiarly routine mundanity of “the office”? (So far, so good.) So, off I went…
PDX on a rainy Autumn morning.
I sigh and sip my coffee. The day started with that moment of anxiety, but it hasn’t continued, and I feel okay. Absolutely ordinary self-doubt and second-guessing and bullshit that I can certainly get past, given some time and attention, and the appropriate self-care tools. Is it “holiday anxiety”? I mean, honestly, it could be… pretty ordinary human stuff right there. I’m prepared for the day (and the weekend), more or less. We’ve decided on a simple fairly traditional holiday meal to kick of the season, and it’s just the two of us this year, so the modest meal should be manageable for me to tackle on my own, which is necessary this year; I expect my Traveling Partner may spend much of the weekend actually working due to a fairly important project that dropped on him earlier this week (very exciting). Seems likely to be a lovely little holiday.
…I remind myself that his birthday is also coming up fast, and although I’ve already done something for that in a manner of speaking (“…Let’s call this your birthday/Giftmas present, then!”), I’m not the sort to let his birthday pass with not a single actual gift on the day, and I think I’d like to do something special for dinner and dessert… I amuse myself briefly considering the matter, and looking over his gift wish list and wondering how current it actually is. (I’ll have to ask.)
I make a mental note to remind my partner I’d like to get the holiday decoration stuff down out of the attic space, and find myself wondering if that stuff would be a better fit for the storage unit, where I could more easily retrieve it myself without help…? I generally spend the latter part of the Thanksgiving holiday weekend decorating for the Yule season and preparing the holiday “pudding”.
…I’m feeling very festive this year, but also feeling very much “behind on things” somehow…
Funny. When I paused to write, this morning, I had very different thoughts in my head. Something altogether else, that I found perhaps more suited to something I might write on Thanksgiving… something about gratitude, about friends cherished over years, about sharing recipes and memories. But these ended up being the words that tumbled out and landed on this page. I’m okay with that. I’m feeling festive and grateful, and I’m pleased that my anxiety has receded. I find myself hoping that my Traveling Partner went back to bed after I left, and wondering what woke him so early this morning (and hoping it wasn’t me, somehow).
I sip my coffee and “take inventory”. I’m in pain today. It’s the weather, and my arthritis, and the sort of “nothing to see here” bullshit to do with aging and old (physical) trauma. I take something for it, and move on with the moment – it’s already time to begin again, and I’ve got shit to do to get ready for the holiday cooking (tomorrow) and work (today).
I’m sipping what is left of my first cup of coffee. It’s mostly gone cold and I think about that new mug my Traveling Partner got to keep his coffee warm while he is working… yeah… do want. lol Another time; it’s on my wishlist. 😀 This coffee, right here, is good enough.
It’s a quiet moment. Lo-fi playing in the background, the soft sound of the A/C (or is it the heat?) running in the background. Laptop in my lap. Morning. My Traveling Partner was up when I got up. He went back to bed shortly after I made my coffee and sat down with him. I figure he was most likely up during the night, based on the peculiarly affronted tone of voice to his reply (he declined) when I asked if he’d like me to make him a cup of coffee as I went to make mine. I hope he gets the rest he needs.
…I guess this means we’re not going out to breakfast, though… lol
I give myself over to enjoying the quiet. Later, I’ll do laundry, dishes, vacuuming and dusting, and all the assorted housekeeping I just don’t have energy for during the work week. I make a grocery list, also for later.
Yesterday, I went shopping for jeans to replace the tattered overly-worn (worn-out) jeans I’ve been shlumping around in for a year (longer). I don’t enjoy shopping for jeans – it’s often quite difficult to find any that fit, are comfortable, and also look good to me. This time, with some effort and a lot of trying things on, I found some I liked and it didn’t even feel like an unreasonable expense. After I got home, I did the step that I so often fail on; I went through every pair of jeans I had in my closet, tried each pair on, and put it through the same test as when shopping for new ones; do they fit, are they comfortable, do I like the way they look on me? Everything that failed even one of those tests went into a bag to go to a local donation center. Clearing up the clutter always seems to also “free my mind” from the sludge of chaos.
This morning, I woke, showered, and put on a pair of new jeans. Feels good… and a little weird. A well-broken-in pair of jeans has a certain familiar feel that is hard to describe. These don’t have that, yet, but they are very comfortable, and I am at ease. I remind myself that just because something is familiar that doesn’t make it also good.
Why does any of this even matter? I’m not sure it does. It’s just a quiet Sunday morning suited to self-reflection, and I happen to be aware of my higher than usual feeling of personal comfort and contentment in this moment. I’m making a point to be aware of what has gone into creating this moment, and really making a point to savor it; it won’t last. Moments don’t last. They are fleeting. Brief. Transitory. They are… momentary. Eventually, I’ll have to begin again. 😀
For now, it’s me, this quiet moment, the lo-fi on the stereo, this feeling of comfort and this cup of almost finished, almost cold coffee… and it’s enough.
I am sipping my coffee between calls with recruiters interested in me for one role or another. I am feeling relaxed, hopeful, and positive, but with a nagging hint of lingering anger at my former manager (over the lay-off itself and the bullshit she attempted to use to give that any sort of acceptable context that could make her “not the bad guy here”).
I’d like to let go of that anger; it’s not productive or helpful.
Over the past 11 days, I must have composed dozens of emails in my head, seeking to “have my say” or in some way exact a feeling of “closure” about being laid off. Usually this occurs in some quiet moment when I could definitely be spending my time more joyfully, but somehow find myself picking at this minor hurt nonetheless. Honestly, over a lifetime I’vefor sure survived far worse. Being laid off, in general, and this manager specifically don’t deserve another moment of my attention at this point, and certainly don’t rate being irked to the point of unhappiness at all. Yes, it was a good job, with a good company that has a good culture… but… I continue to feel more relieved than dismayed; my manager was a fucking nightmare to work with (in spite of being a generally pleasant person to interact with socially) and in less than six months it was already coloring the experience. “Unfit to lead” puts it mildly. Tales for another time, perhaps.
I sip my coffee and breathe, exhale, and relax. I don’t work for her anymore. 😀
When I find myself struggling to let go of some circumstance, event, or conversation (it’s a very human thing), it’s often the result of feeling as if something “important” has been left unsaid, or some task left uncompleted. I’m looking for “closure”.
It’s pretty human to seek closure when something falls apart. Often that’s our very human ego seeking to make ourselves properly the good guy in our own narrative, other times we’re seeking a missing apology or for someone who hurt us to “make it right” – and if that’s not going to be available, to at least exact some explicit acknowledgement of the harm done. Let’s get super real about that; we don’t always get to have closure, at all, especially if we’re insistent on the person who actually wronged us being an active participant in getting that closure. (People don’t like being accountable for the wrongs they do and the harm they cause.) Sometimes it’s helpful to have the conversation, make the attempt, and see what comes of it… other times not so much. Sometimes seeking closure just tangles us up with whatever caused our trauma in the first place, and does more damage without real benefit. Why do that?
What do to about wanting closure…?
I sip my coffee (iced this morning, mostly gone at this point and quite watered down by melted ice). I notice the small puddle of condensation that has formed on the desk around the bottom of the cup, and mop it up with a couple tissues. “Cleaning up my mess” feels like a relevant metaphor…
What would “closure” get me, in these circumstances? What am I really looking for that it feels like I’m going without? Am I wanting a “last word”? Am I hoping to change that manager’s thinking in some way? Am I feeling that human urge to “be right” – and be recognized as such? Am I just wanting to say “I saw what you did there, you didn’t get away with anything.” or “That was a dick move.”? What would the point be? What am I hoping to gain? Am I just having a private tantrum or working through the emotions of hurt and grief? I’m not sure, but I definitely won’t be attempting to act on my feelings until I answer these questions for myself in a way that feels clear and settled. (I’m not a fan of hasty decision-making, lashing out, or burning bridges, and avoid doing those things where I can.) So… in my head, I write the email sharing my thoughts – each time recognizing where my words fail me, or identifying some internal need I can entirely meet for myself without ever hitting send on an email I might later regret. The mental exercise has more value than sending the email. What I think I want to say has already changed a number of times, in some cases because my thinking has already “matured”, or new information has come to light. Sometimes I just find “better words” or a clearer way to communicate my point(s), which is a very useful means of understanding myself more deeply.
…Sometimes, I just want to hurt her because she hurt me. That’s also very human, but it’s a lot more “tit-for-tat” and petty than I prefer to be, personally. I choose a different path.
…Perspective is helpful, and I often gain perspective through self-reflection…
Other circumstances, other needs for closure; for many years my yearning for “closure” (and some kind of apology) kept me distant from my father. Many years. Decades. I can’t say I regret the distance, I got quite a lot of healing from that… but I was definitely taken by surprise when closure developed on its own, through circumstances I didn’t anticipate. I wasn’t just surprised to get closure – I was surprised that I still felt a need for it after so many years. Stranger still, now and then I find myself still yearning for closure as if I’d never had any… trauma leaves lasting damage and closure doesn’t work the way we’d like it to; it’s not magic, it doesn’t “fix everything”, and it doesn’t erase past events. It’s worth understanding (and accepting) that.
…But what to do about wanting closure…?
It’s actually possible (not easy, just possible) to give ourselves closure, absent any involvement by the person(s) who hurt us. No kidding. It’s even quite effective. (Closure – and its partner “forgiveness” – isn’t about that other person at all; it’s about us, ourselves, and how we feel.) There are verbs involved, and yeah, your results may vary, but… it’s do-able. It’s also a practice; it’s not a one-off task that one can check off a to-do list once completed. (Note: this is my practice for achieving some closure when none is offered or readily available, and should not be considered the opinion of an expert, or any sort of guarantee of success – no science behind it, no peer-review, just one woman’s approach to getting closure. It’s worked pretty well for me.)
There are some steps. (These tend to “make it look easy” due to over-simplification, but should give you an idea of how I approach it.)
Understand the actual hurt I’m feeling (try to get the heart of it, in the simplest possible terms)
Sort out what I want that I think will ease that hurt in some way (if anything; keep it real)
Practice non-attachment, compassion, and self-compassion
Look for perspective and alternate understandings of the circumstances that may provide more context (without gaslighting myself, but mindful that I can be mistaken, or lacking “all the information”)
Role play the conversation as realistically as feasible (or write the letter or email – do not send!) – do it more than once, as often as needed, until it feels “said”. (Don’t get mired in this step!)
Reflect on how the event that hurt me has affected me (and why), and what I can learn from it
Have I grown from this hurt? How? Can I grow further? How?
Give myself credit for enduring/surviving/getting over it – and for any subsequent growth or success that may have come from it.
Let it go. Let them go. Walk on.
See number 3, and keep practicing.
It’s not a perfect process, but it’s a useful starting point. See, the thing about closure is that it isn’t really something someone else gives us – it’s something we create, or accept, for ourselves. We have the control. We have the power. We have the words.
Time. What are you doing with yours? Such a finite limited resource in a single mortal lifetime, eh? It can drive a real feeling of desperation trying to “stay caught up”. I think of an old Joe Jackson song… I used to be seriously hung up about time (and timing). It was problematic and stressful. Not helpful at all, and the anxiety did nothing to improve my efficiency. That frenetic driven pace wasn’t particularly useful, and I often felt as if I was chasing seconds at the cost of hours and days. I don’t do that now (not generally). Instead, I let that go and practice living my life, instead. 😀
It’s a strange journey, and the distance between my starting point and my destination is sometimes quite a way to go.
The limitations time places on me, as a mortal creature, comes with a certain poignance, now and then, a feeling that “I’m not doing it right” or that “time is running out”… a sensation of a ticking clock, always in the background, counting down these precious moments… It’s an illusion, as is that sensation of pressure to do more faster. We’re mortal creatures, for sure, and that feels pretty limiting sometimes, but… a life well-lived feels – often – pretty “timeless”. I’ve been enjoying that sensation a lot, lately.
It’s not where I’m seated that matters most, it’s more about what fills my thoughts.
What enriches your life? I’m not talking about cash assets here. I’m asking what fulfills you? What do you want more of in life? How do you choose to spend your precious limited life time?
Sometimes I just need to get away.
I’m learning to make room in my day(s) for the moments that feel the best – love, loving, a good book, a good meal, laughing with friends, sharing my thoughts with my Traveling Partner, walking and thinking… there’s a lot to enjoy in life, and the time is short. Every moment of pointless bullshit or drama robs me of an opportunity to experience some moment of joy; the time is finite. Moments come and go, and once they are in the past, they are what they are were – for always. Just memories. I’m learning to make good ones. (Memories, I mean.)
There are signs of human endeavors almost everywhere.
My recent birthday camping adventure was well-spent on long moments of quiet reflection, and the joy of my Traveling Partner’s good company. I could have “done more”, or gotten more “activities” worked into the experience, probably, but what was filling my soul and nurturing me was simply sitting and enjoying that time that was such a departure from the routine. Calling it “fun” doesn’t really share the experience in a meaningful way. (It was a lot of fun, for sure.) I definitely really needed that time to chill and reflect quietly, and just observe the world in the form of breezes, waves, and blue skies, without all the fuss and bother of humanity’s comings and goings and frantic attempts to control time.
I took pointers on “how to relax” from the local wildlife, they’ve certainly mastered their method. 😀
I came home with a renewed sense of presence in my experience, and some new perspective. I came home feeling uplifted, and deeply in love with my Traveling Partner. I came home feeling comfortable in my skin and sure of myself. All good stuff. The best part? I came home. It felt good to be at home, to have a home to come home to in the first place, and to be there with my Traveling Partner was a hell of a bonus. Life well-lived? Working on it – and getting great results.
Sometimes the best thing I can do for the woman in the mirror is to pause, and reflect.
I reflect for a moment on the practices that work, the practices that have been less effective (for me), and sip my coffee contentedly.
Evening Light 