Archives for posts with tag: slow down

I’m sipping my morning coffee thinking about how ludicrous it is that we so often seek to make everything fit into an “either/or” sort of arrangement – two neat columns, pro and con, or two clear choices for or against. I don’t think our human experiences are so tidy and clearly on one side or another of some dividing line. Not at all. We are creatures capable of depth and nuance of both thought and emotion. Our choices are often not so easy, and the problems we face more subtle and complex than a clear “yes/no” decision can resolve. We cheat ourselves and each other when we default to false dichotomies and make believe dilemmas – we often have many more choices on the vast menu of life’s Strange Diner than we take the time to consider.

…I consider our weird two party political system in the United States to be symptomatic of this very human challenge (in addition to being the only likely mathematical outcome of our current election system, regardless how many parties we may attempt to put in the mix). Human beings don’t seem to like complicated decision making at all. What a shame – we have such beautifully well-suited brains for such things. Seems like a waste of our potential as beings.

How are you wasting your potential today? Maybe that’s worth giving a moment of thought to? It’s your life, of course, and I’m not telling you what to do, just saying – you’ve got so much potential as a creature! What are you doing with that? What are you practicing? Where does your path lead?

What love looks like.

I spent time this weekend lingering over love and games with my Traveling Partner, who has been patiently re-teaching me to play cribbage. I enjoy cribbage. I played it with my grandfather. I played it when I was in a warzone (preferring it over pinochle or dominoes). My TBI gives me an irritating cognitive quirk; I don’t easily remember certain sorts of things, and the rules of card games are one of these. If I am not playing a particular game every day, the recollection of the game play and the rules quickly extinguishes, and I’ve got to start all over again the next time I go to play. It had been years since I’ve played cribbage. My Traveling Partner made us a lovely cribbage board. We’ve been playing relatively regularly for the past few days, and I’m enjoying it greatly. Oh, sure, at least for now I still need help figuring the points in a hand – cribbage is a relatively complicated card game – but I’m enjoying the time with my partner, and he with me, and it’s time well-spent. I am grateful he is so patient with me as I relearn a game I once knew so well.

A rose blooming in my garden. A beautiful metaphor.

I spent time this weekend lingering in the garden, enjoying the roses that are blooming, and fussing over the plants the deer have nibbled on. I weeded, and I watered, and I sat in the sunshine. Also time well-spent.

62 soon. Life is significantly less complicated – and less “exciting” – than I once expected it would be (though it often still feels like a lot to manage), and I’m not at all disappointed by that. lol Like a lot of other things, “excitement” is somewhat over-rated (and things are generally complicated enough to feel bothersome), and I greatly prefer joyful contentment, sufficiency, and the kind of broad perspective that allows me room to understand and appreciate others. We’re each having our own experience, and I really don’t have the time to bother with being annoyed by everyone about everything or wallowing in made up drama. lol I do like things “easy”. These mortal moments are so finite and precious.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I’ve got a couple appointments today, and it’s a busy workday, and there are errands to run on the way home, and… when the hell would I also find time to enjoy “excitement”? Good grief, a pleasant generally routine life is plenty busy already, isn’t it? I sip my coffee and smile to myself. This is a nice moment right here. Good for self-reflection and new beginnings. Good for gratitude and love. Good for putting some thought into decisions to be made and things to be done. There’s no need to rush, or force everything through a filter that reduces it all to either/or, this-or-that, yes/no, pro or con… I have time to think things through thoroughly, to understand more of my life more deeply, in spite of that ticking clock. I have time for myself before I begin again.

There’s time to pause for flowers, to water our gardens, to chase our dreams.

I had a restless night, although I did get the rest I needed by the time morning came. I got up, dressed, and headed to a favorite local trail. I’m sitting on a bench at my halfway point, taking in the sunrise and listening to birdsong. My head aches fiercely; I mostly ignore it.

Yesterday in the early evening after work, my Traveling Partner got a call offering him an earlier appointment time. He needs this care, and although it immediately threw today’s “day plan” into complete chaos, I agreed to make it work. It’s doable. I needed to coordinate a couple changes to my meeting calendar, and rearrange what the flow of my workload would look like, but changes weren’t unreasonable or crazy inconvenient. I still found some background stress surfacing this morning. Changes of this sort do tend to cause me stress, but… coping with them is healthy and a good practice. So… I’m just getting on with it. lol

…There’s no legitimate reason to feel stressed over these reasonable changes…

I breathe, exhale, and relax. The Spring air smells of flowers. The scent of roses mingles with the scents of flowering trees. It’s lovely morning and all IĀ  have to do is take it in stride.

…And it’s time to begin again.

I’m sitting here with a cup of tea and a terrible headache. The headache is no surprise; it’s the Monday after Daylight Savings Time began this year, and that rather abrupt change to the timing on all my medication reliably results in a headache, and some crankiness. I guess I’m fortunate that it isn’t worse.

I found myself needing a break. A “proper break”, though, really stepping back from “this” and giving myself room to reconnect with myself here/now. I brought a fat juicy “Sumo” tangerine to work with my lunch today, and it seemed like a good time to enjoy that…

…I tore off the “top knot” of the tangerine and the smell of it filled my senses. I thought immediately of some of the odd-seeming mindfulness exercises sometimes taught to students or CBT patients just learning mindfulness practices. You probably know the ones… “eat a raisin”… “eat an orange”… These departures from the mindless consumption we often tend towards are intended to “wake us up” to the real depth of some very commonplace ordinary experiences and create an opportunity to experience them more fully, in a more present and engaged way. They can still seem pretty silly, or awkward, or fake, especially the first time, or in the company of strangers.

…Embracing authenticity is sometimes a matter of letting go of our own self-consciousness or embarrassment, or concern about what someone else’s idea of “normal” looks like…

I sit here with this big fragrant tangerine quite happily. I love the scent of it. The heft of the large asymmetrical fruit feels very satisfying in my hand. The bumpy rough skin tempts me further, and I begin to peel it, smelling the freshness of still more citrus-y tangerine-y scent filling the air around my desk. The skin makes a sort of quiet ripping sound as it pulls away from the juicy flesh of the fruit it has been protecting. The bitter white pith pulls away easily, without a sound. The inside of the peel feels vaguely damp and very soft. Minutes have gone by in the time it has taken to peel this one fruit, and even though I haven’t even tasted it yet, my mood has already lifted quite a lot.

…Does it matter if something seems silly, if it works for you?…

I slowly separate one slice, one “segment” I guess it is, of the tangerine from the rest, breaking the fruit into halves as I do. Like a kid, I carefully peel off the thin skin that separates the slice from the others, and which holds the section intact as an individual piece. I admire the deep orange color of the fruit, and wonder how many of the tiny orange tear-drop shaped inner bits there really are in each section, before I bite into it and taste the sweet tang of the tangerine, at last. Somehow, tangerines manage to taste like Christmas and summertime both at the same time. Simultaneously exotic and ordinary, fancy and everyday, for a moment I think perhaps these are my favorite fruit – before I laugh to myself, aware that I probably feel that way the first moment I bite into almost any fully ripe fruit. One by one, I bite into the slices of tangerine, tasting each one anew, going slowly enough to really appreciate the taste and texture, and really enjoy the experience. Here’s the thing about this as a mindfulness practice; it’s not about going so slow that the slowness becomes the experience, it’s simply about going slowly enough to have an experience in the first place. This is a huge tangerine – certainly big enough to be at least two whole servings of fruit – so shouldn’t there be some time consumed along with the fruit? If I’m sucking this tangerine down almost whole in mere seconds, have I even had an opportunity to actually enjoy it beyond the first sweet brief bite?

I sit smiling, eating my tangerine, taking my break. Minutes go by. Enough time for two streetcars to pass by on the street below. Long enough for a soft rain to begin, spattering the windows and changing the quality of the light. I feel present and real, instead of a bit distracted and harried. I feel relaxed, and also energized (doesn’t hurt that this tangerine is juicy and sweet and nutritious). Sure, I’ve still got a headache, and it’s still the day after the start of DST, but I feel pretty good, and here. Present. I break the last slice of this tangerine in half and eat it in two delightful bites.

I’m ready to begin again.

I’m sitting in my car, listening to the rain falling. It’s a chilly Winter morning. There’s serious Winter weather in the weekend forecast. I think about going to the store to “stock up”, but I find myself wondering if that’s more reflexive than necessary. We’re generally pretty well supplied with day-to-day basics. I could pick up some convenience items I guess, maybe fresh veggies and some chicken…

The pain I am in this morning is “ordinary”. It’s part of my daily experience of life, and it’s difficult to bother bitching about it sometimes. Yes, I’m in pain. Yes, I took something for it. No, that doesn’t really resolve it. I try to avoid letting pain call my shots, because at least for now that’s still an option.

My Traveling Partner is also in pain. He also does his best to manage it. I can’t know directly how much pain he is in, but I feel for him in that “fuck, I wish I could help” kind of way. I feel pretty helpless, though; aside from my concern and general helpfulness I can’t do much about his actual pain. Nor can he, for me.

Physical pain is one of the least pleasant experiences of being alive, I personally think, but it’s also pretty commonplace.

I sit with my thoughts and breathe. The rain falls. The wind blows. Occasional gusts rock the car. The trees along the trail just in front of where I am parked wave as a group in the wind. A very committed runner goes by, headlamp shining brightly and illuminating the path ahead of him. The rain continues to spatter the car.

… I’m so tired. I haven’t been sleeping well. I’d sleep in if I could, but that hasn’t been successful in a while. I feel rundown and overextended. I know I need more/better rest. I don’t actually know how to get that, presently. There’s a lot to get done and with my Traveling Partner injured, a lot of it falls to me. I remind myself I only need to do my best and that has to include taking care of myself. It’s reasonable to fall behind on some things. I make that okay with myself (again), and focus on today, now.

Sometimes life isn’t easy. It’s okay that it isn’t, and it doesn’t need to be made more difficult with a bunch of bullshit expectations of reaching beyond our abilities, time, and energy. It’s okay to slow down (unless you’re being chased by a bear or something, in which case maybe don’t slow down! šŸ˜‚) It’s important to take care of this fragile vessel. It’s even necessary.

I yawn and look at my calendar. It’s time to begin again.

I’m sipping my second coffee and smiling. It’s a lovely morning. I woke from a strange (and amusing) dream that had been influenced by recent videos my Traveling Partner and I had watched together. He made an appearance in my dream. We laughed together over coffee when I shared the details (and did a fairly good impression of my partner’s “exasperated-still-loving-you” tone). It was a wonderful start to the morning just to share conversation and coffee together. šŸ™‚ Ordinary stuff – but so so sweet.

…Don’t forget to enjoy the small things; sometimes they matter most.

The morning is still dark. The weather is relatively mild (especially so for January, but, you know, the climate is changing). I look over my “to-do list” for tasks I may have been dodging – maybe get one or two of those done today? I smile softly to myself. Mornings like this make everything that follows feel easy.

I pause my writing to do a bit of travel research I’d promised to take care of for my partner.

I glance at the time as I hit send on the email… already time to begin again. šŸ˜€