Archives for posts with tag: set and manage expectations

Change is. I could stop there – I’ve even said it before, in those words, on a cold, slushy winter morning, before I started out on my commute to work on that day. I’ve written so many posts about change, specifically, that I lost interest in counting just the ones with “change” in the title long before I reviewed even the past two years (more than 7 with some scrolling). LOL

A recent “change” – a tree came down during a recent storm. Sometimes we expect change, sometimes it catches us by surprise.

Today I woke in a good mood from a pretty unsatisfying night’s sleep. It’s not that the sleep I got wasn’t good quality – it was lovely, just not enough of it – it was more about failing to actually fall asleep until well-past midnight, and waking up quite early. The night before, a passing storm kept me awake – it was windy and noisy. I had plans though, sort of, and I got up, showered, dressed, and headed out as quietly as I could hoping to avoid waking my Traveling Partner. His sleep was interrupted too, and I knew he needed more; he’d asked me to start my day early (and elsewhere) so he could sleep in. I planned ahead; I put my camera and handbag together near the door, and had my coat ready for the likely chilling morning departure. I had a list of possible stops – fun and adventure, mostly, nothing serious or properly an “errand”, I was just heading up the road for a lark, with my camera and a list of places to stop, including some holiday reconnaissance.

I grabbed a coffee on the way and enjoyed the drive. Early on a Sunday morning there’s very little traffic. The morning was chilly – but also delightfully misty, without being really foggy or icy. It was a fun drive. I went… to the grocery store. LOL No kidding. That was my first stop; a bigger, fancier, more specialty-goods-oriented grocery store a couple towns up the road. I rarely go out of my way for the grocery shopping if I can avoid doing so, and it’s usually not at all necessary. This, though, this was just a fun outing. I walked up and down the aisles feasting my eyes on the vastness and selection, and ooh-ing and ah-ing over the holiday items. I bought a small quantity of real Prosciutto di Parma to use in holiday cooking. I picked up some excellent imported die-cut pasta that I know is really great in recipes. This wasn’t a day to buy “all the groceries”. This was an adventure! πŸ˜€

I went up the road further along, and visited another favorite-but-distant grocery. (Let’s be real; there’s very little open at 7 or 8 a.m. on a Sunday morning.) There, I walked the aisles wide-eyed by the selection, again. This time I had a couple items I had an eye out for, specifically, although my expectations were low. Still, I did okay. I picked up a big container of the household (domestic) favorite soy sauce I use in day-to-day cooking most of the time (hard to find closer to home). I even found…

Squirrel!

…I was going somewhere with this. Something to do with change, and adjusting to my new meds well and how nicely that’s working out so far… or something… my Traveling Partner comes in to check-in with me about my breathing. I check my oxygen. A few minutes later, he comes in again, same question. Then a third time. I feel myself start to get frustrated with the interruptions breaking my chain of thought. I breathe, exhale, and let that go. I turn my attention back to my writing… I “find the thread” and feel myself pulled into the flow of my thoughts…then… I feel his tender touch on my shoulder, and smile; I feel so loved. My brain is working out the end to the sentence in progress, just as my partner’s frustration with my lack of response boils over as harsh frustrated words. Fucking hell. I pull off my headset and turn to him; I’d gotten “stuck in my head” pretty quickly – it happens – and I hadn’t quite grasped that he was explicitly seeking to get my attention – to tell me communicating with me is easier on the new meds. God damn it. That is frustrating. (For me, too.)

He goes away frustrated and mad. I try to turn my attention back to what I was thinking about before I found myself thinking about this mess… I fail, so I write about that. Don’t know what else to do, besides begin again. We are such human creatures, full of failings and missteps. I imagine for a moment tripping over my own feet just trying to walk down the sidewalk – then I imagine picking myself back up again, and getting on with the walk. This is not the sort of thing worth becoming mired in or catastrophizing – and in that thought, I realize I’ve come back around to my point; change is.

Making even a subtle change (in medication, in behavior, in circumstances, in environment) can kick off a chain reaction of… changes, not all of those anticipated. Even in something so basic as how I communicate with my partner, or he with me. We’re both getting used to things. Most of it is quite good. Some of it is a bit strange or a tad awkward. So far, I haven’t noticed any “down sides”. Oh – one; I need to change the timing on one of my medications from before bed to first thing in the morning (which is the more common approach in for this one); I think that’s what may have been making it hard to fall asleep. It’s a small detail. Another change.

So, I breathe, and I pay attention, and I am patient with myself (and my Traveling Partner), and I let change be what it is. And I begin again. πŸ™‚

I’m awake. I’m groggy. I’m drinking coffee. My calendar is full. My list of things to do seems as long as it has been for days. We’re definitely moving. In past moves, this is the part of moving when the self-care tasks fall by the wayside, and I typically find myself trapped in a cycle of “overdrive” and exhaustion, working unrelentingly until I collapse for minutes or hours, then back at it for every minute I can squeeze out of this fragile meat-based machinery, until fatigue finally nails me to a bed, a couch, or the floor, and I sleep for a few hours, and repeat the process day after day until the move is completed. Then, I spend days feeling disrupted, moody, bewildered, and overwhelmed, as I get used to a new place. Bleh. It’s not fun, but it’s “worked okay” for me, for many values of “okay”, generally. It’s often simply what I’ve had to work with, or perhaps I just didn’t understand it could be done very differently?

New day, new move, and a very different plan. My Traveling Partner keeps me self-care focused (“Hey, you’ve been out here working in the sun for awhile, are you drinking enough water? Have you taken a break?””Have you eaten something today?”). We each work on the things we’ve committed to with real purpose. We take time together to chill, to play, to laugh, to consume comfortable amounts of media content, and to enjoy each other. Hell, I even slept restfully last night, and woke at a fairly normal time this morning! He woke in a good mood, himself (we’re both fairly grumpy, many mornings, until we sort ourselves out and are properly awake). This move doesn’t just feel “different” – it feels good. πŸ˜€

I sip my coffee and look at my list. Nodding to myself, I double-check the details (“when does the donation drop-off open, today?”). My Traveling Partner comes into the studio, and says something pleasant, and rubs my neck for a few minutes, and reminds me about my posture without nagging. He puts on music in the other room, and I feel myself beginning to really wake up for the day ahead. There’s so much to do, and in a practical sense, with all the paperwork out of the way, the real work “begins” – building on the real work we’ve been doing for weeks, boxing and packing things. I smile to myself. There are certainly a lot of verbs involved, and this time? This time, those include self-care verbs, and verbs to do with love and loving, and shared verbs – so many shared verbs. It feels good to have my Traveling Partner’s help with this move. The last couple had some fairly poignant lonely moments (his, for him, too, I know). This feels very different.

My smile turns to a grin, and I feel filled with joy. It’s already time to begin again. πŸ˜€

Sometimes life reminds me that I’ll be taking time for all the lessons – not just the ones I think I most want or need to learn.

Feeling well-loved takes many forms.

One of life’s least popular lessons, for me, has been subtle and regularly reinforced; we are each having our own experience. We walk our own hard mile. We see the world from the perspective we have. We work with what we’ve got. This is not subject to argument. It is what it is.

I learned another subtle lesson, some time ago, (and thankfully learned it most coherently through video content (Rick & Morty, mostly), rather than through heart-breaking personal tragedy); sometimes our “best” actions, our most willful intention to “do the right thing” still result in unavoidable suffering elsewhere, or a negative consequence that we are nonetheless responsible for. Again, it is what it is. Understanding that it is, may be the best route to mitigating such things in a way that lessens the negative outcomes in some way. Learn from the lesson. πŸ™‚

I regularly learn (again, because, apparently, I forget?) how human I am, how fragile, how limited, how awkward, how fallible, how error prone… yep. All the things. So human. Being well-meaning? It’s not enough, far too often.

I’ve just finished the strangest weekend seminar in life’s university. lol There’s been coursework on Setting and Managing Expectations, Clear Communication of Boundaries, Building Healthy Relationships – that one was a pop quiz, and I’m pretty sure I flunked. I hope it gets graded on a curve. lol I think most of these are pretty essential life lessons (and skills), but I don’t think I’ll ever “master” any of them; there always seems to be one more opportunity to be more authentic, to speak more simply and clearly, to be more open, to be more compassionate, to show more respect, to be more considerate, to reciprocate more fully, to love more – and oh, my goodness, that one definitely matters most. Love more. Love first. Love a lot. There is so much to share with one another. We each have so much to give to the world.

…And…yes. There are mistakes to be made – because mistakes get made; we are human. We learn so much more from what went wrong than from what goes right. There are hurts that will be felt. There are needs that will go unmet. There are moments that will feel out of step. The wheel continues to turn. Speak up! Listen more. Really listen. No, seriously, shut up and really listen, mostΒ  especially if someone is saying they “don’t feel heard”. So much to learn to be skillfully human, to be beautifully, wonderfully, delightfully human, to be that human so profoundly content and emotionally well-developed that all the other humans rally around to bask in the warmth of comfort of that love… gotta have goals. I’ll keep studying. Keep practicing. Keep beginning again. πŸ™‚