Archives for posts with tag: spring rain

I woke at 1:37 am to a loud bang. I returned to sleep. I woke again at 4:21 am for no reason that was obvious, and went back to sleep again. When I woke to the alarm, it was a bit as if I was never sleeping. My brain seemed pretty busy from about 1:37 am on until the morning alarm. Mostly playing mc chris’ “Tarantino” on repeat in the background of my consciousness. What’s that about? My back aches with the ‘everyday pain’ of arthritis. Yoga is difficult this morning. Sitting with good posture is difficult.

My coffee is neither creamy nor sweet.

This morning these are simply my experience, my observations. I feel pretty positive and basically ‘okay’ as an emotional being. It’s a nice change from Wednesday.

Wednesday, a bit like this.

Wednesday, a bit like this.

Yesterday wasn’t bad at all. It started well, ended comfortably, and aside from a distinct lack of physical comfort in my experience, the day proceeded well between the beginning and end.  Yesterday’s high points? Love, and roses.

"Baby Love" rose [Scrivens, 1992] first to bloom in my garden this year.

“Baby Love” rose [Scrivens, 1992] first to bloom in my garden this year.

My very human experience has its ups and downs. This morning is still so new there’s no knowing. I meditate, sip coffee, study, do yoga, and prepare to face the world. I feel, for the moment, content and complete, in spite of my arthritis, in spite of pain, in spite of the headache, the bitterness of my coffee, or the slightly sick feeling of mornings. A little later than now, I’ll leave for work, probably have to remind myself to grab my cane before I go; it is an encumbrance as much as a help, and like I child I tend to abandon it anywhere I happen to sit down, if I happen to stand up with ease when I return to movement. lol

In spite of pain, and the unsteadiness of my knees lately, I still walk as much as I can. I’m still getting in about 5 miles a day, about 3 of that is commute, spread out over the morning and evening, and 2 miles for a walk midday. If I ‘give my knees a rest’ and allow myself to succumb to the illusion that not using them will somehow put things right, I put myself at risk of gaining weight, pretty much immediately. I keep walking every day I can put weight on my knees and ankles at all. (I’m heavier than I’d like to be, and very much aware of the toll that is taking on my knees and ankles. Stabilizing my weight below 200 lbs is within reach, and I’ll be very happy to hit that benchmark.)

Still, the pain is what it is, and it is part of my experience. As much as I look forward to the beauty of spring, and a lovely walk on a nice day, there’s a bit of a ‘Little Mermaid” element to it; every step may be painful. Growth has often felt that way to me; every step painful, journey and destination worth the difficulty.

Pain is a shared experience. Most people have some. It’s odd to be in a group of people and observe that one person commenting on their experience of pain or discomfort tends to launch a round of compare/contrast statements, with some one-up-man-ship thrown in for flavor. I try to stay out of those, and regret it when I launch one. Few things result in feeling less heard about hurting than everyone else chiming in about how much they also hurt. Everyone wants to feel heard about pain.  I’m not sure anyone ever does.  Our own pain is so visceral. The pain of others tends to be far less so.  I have been working on compassion first, sympathy, understanding – hearing that this human being speaking to me is hurting, and recognizing their experience, without sharing mine, even out of sympathy. (Allowing them to have their experience, feel nurtured and supported, and not diminished by my experience, or denied the opportunity to be individual. ) I don’t know that it does or does not ‘work’ any better than countering every tale of discomfort with one of my own, but it seems likely to be less annoying or dismissive.

It’s Friday. Looks like a quiet solo evening on the calendar. I find myself hesitant to be at all excited about it. I’d rather not become invested in the outcome and have to deal with disappointment if life throws some changes in the mix. I’m eager to spend some time on my writing and dive deeply into meditation without a timer, clock, or deadline on the other side.  It’d be nice to look forward to doing that pain-free, but that’s unrealistic these days, so I don’t bother about the pain until it speaks up with enough force to be a real game-changer.

Friday. Black coffee. A backache. Spring flowers. A quiet morning. This is not only ‘not bad’ – it’s actually pretty good.

Lately, my knees are making it hard to walk comfortably. I’m not sure what that’s about, certainly it could be any one of a number of things, including ‘aging’.  I’ve also been having more difficulties with spelling than I used to, and dropping words when I write, using opposites when I speak, and generally struggling to communicate simply.  More effort has been required for the same result. This frustrates and worries me. The worry shows up in other places; my manicure is not so well maintained, and I sometimes catch myself rubbing my hands, although they don’t hurt.

This is a very human experience.

Easter came and went. Earth day, too, has come and gone. Spring is quickly heading for summer, although the weather here is quite cool and rainy and not giving away much in the way of intention to progress toward summer.

Pure loveliness.

Pure loveliness.

This morning I don’t have much to say about everyday drama, or work, or growth. I’m a little too sensitive to the aging thing this morning. I am in a little too much pain to be concerned with the puzzles of being and becoming. I’m not sleeping well, although I am sleeping enough to be reasonably rested it doesn’t give my mind the downtime it needs. My dreams are filled with ancient hurts being enacted in newer symbols and a cast of characters from my present, making my waking life seem subtly colored by hidden stress, and secret pain.

I’m prone to tears. Hormones? Unresolved anger? Failure to take care of me by being willing to prioritize my needs high on my own to do list? Arthritis? Menopause? Failure to nurture my relationships well? Headaches? I don’t know. Perhaps any or all of that in some combination? I feel tired when I think about it. I can quickly go from tired to angry. I am easily provoked.  Where the hell do all these tears come from? Why am I crying so much?

Is there a storm on the horizon?

Is there a storm on the horizon?

Mindfulness still matters, still eases my suffering, still settles and calms me. Meditation still helps me find balance, relax, breathe, and give myself compassion. I’m still ‘taking care of me’ and working with my physician on matters of my health, with my therapist on matters of my mind, and with my loves on matters of the heart. Progress. Growth. Wellness.

Sometimes I feel very much like something inside me has to work very hard to keep something else inside me from just giving up. I feel sad to see those words as my fingers skip across the keys. Tears fall. Some days are more work than others.

Today is a good day to see beauty. Today is a good day to recognize the kindness in a smile. Today is a good day for strong coffee. Today is a good day to choose well, and to love wholeheartedly. Today I still have the opportunity to choose to change the world…

The words are not the experience...

The words are not the experience…

Strange weekend. Days of exploration, love, and practicing new things, of connecting with some more than others, of feeling distant pain (because sharing the burden is part of our human experience), of feeling pain close up (and finding myself no more able to help than I can when it is far away).  Mindful words and deeds when I could; practicing every day, but finding that however diligently I practice, the hormones will occasionally have their say – loudly. Still human. I checked.

An odd tangent… Since I was quite young, I’ve had a ‘theme song’ – a bit of tune that lingers in my head, sometimes playing in the background of my thoughts as I have my experience, often unnoticed, sometimes whistled or hummed. Care to guess? It’s a bit on the comical side… the theme music from ‘Dragnet‘ (the TV show). lol. No kidding. 😀  I think, this weekend, it changed.  It didn’t change to what I expected, though. I’d have bet on a simple Dave Matthews song, pure of heart, and strong, and great to sing out loud… ‘Dancing Nancies‘? ‘Gaucho‘? ‘Mercy‘? No, it isn’t any of those. lol.  Turns out it is ‘Lighten Up, Francis‘, a Puscifer track.  I’m not sure what to make of that, but it fits, and it feels right.

It is an amazing journey, but I am not sure what my destination will be.

It is an amazing journey, but I am not sure what my destination will be.

The morning was…different.  I slept well enough, I suppose, waking ahead of the alarm clock by many minutes, heart pounding, with an odd pain in my chest. Stress? Nightmares? Nothing I remembered on waking, nothing that launched into my consciousness when I had flipped on the light. I took my time and woke slowly and let a few deep calming breaths have time to gently sooth me before the physical feelings could morph into emotions of panic or dread.  The morning started well, but began to slide sideways very early, with the rising of my partners ahead of their usual routines, each for their own reasons.  All good; I enjoy the morning with my loved ones…but the morning seemed stressed and strange, and I did something new for myself to continue to enjoy the morning – I left for work early. lol. It just seemed the better choice today; enjoy a leisurely walk to the office, taking my time, and a new route, and giving my loved ones their own time and space to make of their day what they would.  It was nice to choose, to feel the choice as ‘well chosen’, to continue to enjoy my own experience with no strain or weirdness, and to feel confident that we’d all make our own way and do our best with things.

The walk this morning was lovely. No phone. No camera. No anxiety. I turned all that off.  I walked and listened to birds, smelled flowers, heard sounds of all sorts, and felt the soft spring air chill my skin with dawn’s drizzle (it wasn’t enough to call it ‘rain’).  I felt the snugness and heard the ‘shff-shff’ of new jeans as I walked; I’m down another size, and it feels good to be closer to my goal.  I have eager hopes that this evening will be sweet and calm, filled with laughter and kind words; it may not go that way, and I’ve no firm expectations on it, but it’s so nice to feel hopeful and eager, rather than anxious and nauseated from stress, which for many years I would have considered a better than average state of being.

I count the weekend as a good one, small stresses notwithstanding, and I am not deterred from continuing to practice mindfulness in life, even where emotions like grief, anger, or frustration are concerned.  I’m certainly pleased with the results of applying mindfulness to my hormonal experience…that felt like a win, for sure. One thing I really yearn for is the ability to share what I’m learning more easily with those I love when they are having their own challenges…alas, “I am only an egg.”  Maybe someday…