Archives for posts with tag: sufficiency

Busy, productive weekend. Even feels like my Traveling Partner and I connected more deeply in some important ways than we have in a while. That feels pretty good. Fucking hell, though, life is a bit stressful and I am so tired. It’s just ordinary human fatigue of the sort that results from pushing one’s self too hard to do too much for too long. It’s a familiar feeling, though it has been awhile since it could “so easily” pull me down like this.

… I woke disoriented, unclear about when or where I was this morning, confused by the clothes I had laid out for today (“Where’s my uniform…?) and feeling the purposeful “relaxed tension” of military readiness – until I moved, and my aching back reminded me that time has passed and I am not that strong, aggressive, laser-focused, mission-driven, can-do young woman who thought she understood who the good guys are, and what the point of it all might be. lol Weird way to wake up. I feel exhausted before the day begins, and there is already (still) so much to do… I could definitely use the energy of that younger self!

…and also? Fuck this headache.

Emotionally, I feel like I am treading water, not yet at risk of drowning, but too fucking far from shore to feel secure facing this predicament. Life is “a lot”, right now. I’m doing my best. Sometimes, maybe even most of the time, it’s enough, but I sure don’t feel like I can count on that.

It’s fine. I’m fine.

Work is fine. Love is fine. Life is… complicated. 2 out of three in the “wins” column? I probably shouldn’t bitch, I’ve had it much worse. Hell, life isn’t bad, just complicated right now. There’s a lot going on, and change is in motion (some of it I chose myself, and while I can certainly question my timing, I can’t really complain about getting what I asked for).

I breathe, exhale, and relax. Self-care becomes huge at times like these, and I tend to do well if I already have firm reliable self-care practices in place that are habitual and just part of everyday life. I’m kicking myself a bit over self-care failures over time, recently, but trying to also be kind to myself. “Just begin again. Keep practicing.” I remind myself.

The morning feels chilly, though it’s a mild 51°F this morning. I don’t need a jacket as I walk, but quickly notice the cool of morning when I paused to take pictures. Sitting here at the halfway point, I regret the sleeveless top I’m wearing, though I know it will feel like a good choice in the heat of the afternoon, later.

I sit with my thoughts. I won’t sit for long. I’m filled with restless energy that needs an outlet. That’s okay, it’s a work day, and my to-do list is rather long, presently – there’s no shortage of shit to do, or things that need my attention. I’m presently faced with a to-do list that continues to grow slightly faster than I am working it off, so running out of shit to do? Not a challenge I have to deal with. lol I guess I am grateful? I probably should be.

The sun rises above the hills on the horizon, golden and bright. A new day ahead. What will I do with it? When night comes, will I be satisfied with how I spent my time? How will I care for this fragile vessel? Can I tread water long enough to reach the shore? (Metaphorically speaking, swimming might be a better choice…)

I breathe, exhale, and relax. Soon it will be time to begin again, to face the next challenge, the next moment, and the expectations of the woman in the mirror. I’ll do my best – that will have to be enough.

We become what we practice. Feels like a good day to practice maintaining perspective, and non-attachment, a good day to practice kindness, compassion and consideration. I’m definitely going to need the practice… I’m very human and my results vary.

…Change is. Are you ready for it? Time is short, and the clock is ticking…

This morning I woke gently, aware of what a good day yesterday was, in spite of its difficult beginning (which, honestly, “wasn’t all that”). I found myself musing briefly over how easily a day getting off to a good start can “go off the rails”, and how often a seemingly poor start nonetheless finds its way to a pleasant day. The beginnings do not determine the outcomes. There are so very many choices and opportunities along the way, it seems a poor practice to insist on an entire day being whatever some one moment happens to be.

The morning is off to a promising start. I don’t read anything into it, and refrain from setting myself up for failure by expecting all the moments ahead to be as this one pleasant moment happens to be. I’m also not looking for disappointment or anticipating chaos. It’s simply a moment and I am enjoying it as it is.

As I leave the house to head down the road to a favorite trail, I’m greeted by a peculiar piebald sky. Past daybreak, which comes quite early this time of year, the sky is pale, a faded blue-not-quite-white, and scattered patterns of small dark gray clouds that crowd the northern horizon. Stormy looking, off in the distance. As I drive, a pink and magenta sunrise peeks out from among the distant hills, and I delight in the boldness of the colors with each glimpse. It doesn’t last, and I never quite get a view of it that lasts long enough to snap a picture. Some experiences have to be enjoyed as they happen, and there is no opportunity to save these for later, outside our fleeting memory.

Perhaps rain later…?

I get to the trailhead, put on my boots, and step onto the trail with a smile and my thoughts and a promise to finish this later.

Nice morning for it.

The air is mild and the morning very quiet. I had the trail alone this morning – a pleasant luxury. I walked with my thoughts, which were mostly rather practical.

I began tidying up my studio yesterday, and there’s a bit more to do. Because I had the option of working from an office in the city over the past 8 months, (and with my Traveling Partner injured), necessity and convenience slowly turned my studio into something more like storage than a creative work space. lol It makes sense to get that sorted out, and my studio returned to a clean and tidy work space, now. No office to go to presently, and my partner’s son moving in soon (temporary and welcome), I need this space for artistic endeavors, but also for work (doubles as my office), and even as a “personal retreat”, when I just can’t deal with people and need some solitude. It isn’t intended to be storage space, aside from the closet, in which my stored artworks are kept until they sell or hang somewhere.

…Yesterday was a lovely productive day…

I walked and thought. Nice morning for it.  I saw nutria playing along the marsh, at the waters edge. The young ones born this year are exploring their world with playful curiosity. I walked past a small herd of deer, which quietly watched me back as I walked past. (They were gone when I returned down the trail heading for the car.) There were little birds everywhere, squirrels too. The meadow flowers made the air sweet with their scents. The lupines are done blooming and are going to seed. Other flowers take their turn blooming. The trees are all fully leafed out now, and signs of summer are everywhere. Seasons change. Change is.

I get back to the car too early to head right home. I’d like to let my Traveling Partner sleep awhile. I take time to finish my writing and to meditate.

Sitting with my thoughts.

I think ahead to what my next bit of away time might be? I sigh impatiently when I recall I’ve never yet spent even one night home alone in our home. I yearn for that small luxury, but it  hasn’t worked out any time my Traveling Partner has made plans to be away.  Four years of projects, business,  and camping trips cut short by inclement weather, or deferred by illness. Travel plans derailed by injury or circumstance. It just hasn’t worked out; I’ve never been home alone here for more than a few hours, and even then in steady contact with my Traveling Partner throughout. We may as well have been in the living room together. lol Sometimes frustrating. Sometimes disappointing. Mostly I just feel loved. I hold out hope that I may yet experience the luxury of solitude at home, here, eventually… I’m for sure not holding my fucking breath, though!

…I’m not even bitching, really, I’m fortunate to have other options to get the solitary time I need…

So… yeah… sometime in these upcoming summer weeks maybe another camping trip? Maybe a weekend on the coast in a favorite little hotel? Maybe a road trip to see distant friends, with the solitude being a nice interlude between visits? I know the busy-ness and chaos of getting my stepson moved in later this month will take a lot out of me, and potentially leave me scrambling for any kind of alone time at all, grateful perhaps to find even 10 minutes alone behind a closed bathroom door, or in my office during the work day during an uninterrupted hour. I know how such circumstances affect me. I also know to plan ahead in summer months.

…I think about late July and wonder…

…On the other hand, I don’t know that I will be free to travel, at all; my partner has surgery coming up, not yet scheduled  but expected to be scheduled soon for a date as early as available (not an emergency, but a high priority)… could be I will need to be home to care for him (and of course that needs to come first).

I sigh and catch myself grousing silently about the inconveniences and difficulties of adulthood… but I silence myself; I’m fortunate that these are the challenges I am facing. It could be ever so much worse. I take a moment for gratitude. Happy to be in the partnership I’m in, with a human being who lives me deeply, and looking ahead to enjoying the summer at home, puttering in my garden, and living my life gently. It’s enough.

I smile, breathe, exhale, and relax, watching the blue sky spread from horizon to horizon. I  look over my rather practical list of things to do today and add a reminder to cut back bolting greens in the garden and harvest peas for dinner. Looks like a lovely day ahead and it’s time to begin again.

I got my walk in early. I started just at daybreak on this mild Spring morning. I walked a bit aggressively, lost in my own thoughts, eyes fixed on some point ahead,  but without really seeing. I felt cross about the way my morning started (with my Traveling Partner’s aggravation over being wakened and struggling to breathe, as I finished dressing to leave).

…Took me awhile to let it go…

I had wished him well and expressed my hope that he could get back to sleep. He didn’t seem to think he would and expressed that in a way that kept our exchange on my mind as I walked along, over-thinking it unsatisyingly.

…I seriously could have done a better job of letting it go, and letting small shit stay small…

I didn’t really begin to enjoy my walk or adjust my attitude until after he pinged me a cute sticker of a little cat tucked in for sleep, indicating he was going back to bed. Damn, I love that guy. At that point, I was easily able to settle down and sort myself out, with a sigh and a smile and a feeling of gratitude. Shit could be a lot g’damn worse in life (and love).

…We’re each having our own experience…

When I sat down to write, I took a quick look at the “page stats” for this blog (it’s not about numbers so much as insights into what people choose to read, and I often find new relevance in old writing). I found myself re-reading a post from almost 18 months ago, and reflecting further on perspective, change,  and the importance of self-care. It gave me real clarity on the morning, and restored my sense of perspective generally, and how good things truly are. Reading a relevant older post is another way to “be there for myself”, and practice good self-care, and another way to regain perspective. (I say a silent “thank you” to the reader who read that post yesterday; reading it this morning was helpful.)

…My Traveling Partner is on his own journey, having his own experience, and taking that at all personally isn’t a helpful approach to partnership…

Here. Now. Perspective. Sufficiency.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s a pretty morning. The temperature here is a comfortable 50°F or so. The sunshine lights the blades of grass and the trunks of the oaks in the grove where I sit perched on a picnic table enjoying the sunrise. It’s still quite early and I am not rushing back to the house. I’ve got a cup of coffee and this quiet moment to myself and I am enjoying it.

…Sometimes the best thing I can do to take care of myself is to simply take a few quiet minutes to breathe and reflect…

Later today I will take my Traveling Partner to an appointment with a specialist. I hope there is promising news about what can be done and what the long term prognosis for his recovery from his December injury may be. It’s hard watching him suffer and struggle. I feel so helpless so often. I definitely want to do more to alleviate his pain and discomfort than I seem able to. It’s not about me, though; I just want this human being I love so dearly to be okay.

I sigh out loud and catch myself picking at my cuticles anxiously. Yeah… still human. Still prone to worry and stress. I breathe the fresh Spring air deeply and exhale slowly. I can smell the hedge roses that are on the other side of the parking lot adjacent to this park where I am sitting, and the scent of recently cut meadow grass. I enjoy the smell of Spring, grateful that my seasonal allergies are nothing like as severe as my Mother’s allergies, or my Traveling Partner’s. They’re mostly pretty mild, and seem very specific to certain local flowering trees. That time of year is already beginning to pass.

I am in rather a lot of pain this morning. It’s been an issue all week. I take the medication I have for it. I cope the best I can. I remain unwilling to let my pain call my shots and I try to “just live my life” in spite of it. My results vary. I make a point of not complaining much about it, to the point of generally mentioning it only in passing, if I mention it at all, in conversation. It’s not that I find this to be a helpful strategy, it’s just that there’s nothing to do about it, really, that I’m not already doing, and I am very much aware that my partner is in a great deal more pain than I am. I don’t want to make that about me. I just want to do my best to support and care for him while he’s injured and working on recovering. He knows I am in pain, it’s a chronic condition. No point making that “a thing” – right now it’s just a distraction.

I sit with my coffee and my thoughts awhile longer. Soon enough it will be time to begin again.

It’s a new morning. I hit the trail at sunrise, hoping to “walk off” this headache, this backache, the pain in my neck, and my general irritation with the day (which hasn’t even had a chance to get started)… but, as is often the case, all those things “follow me” down the trail and linger in my awareness.

Every journey begins somewhere.

…I find myself dreading the day, and feeling a bit trapped by my circumstances and choices. I remind myself how illusory such feelings can be, and to let shit go – let small shit stay small – and I remind myself to practice non-attachment, and to be mindful of impermanence. In the meantime, my steps carry me down this trail…

Pretty words and aphorisms don’t create change. My experience changes when I change my thinking or my actions, and it often takes some time. It’s a process. It’s important to understand that changing my own thinking and actions doesn’t change anyone else’s; it’s important to choose change based on what I want from the woman in the mirror. We’re each walking our own path, each having our own experience.

For many years I twisted helplessly within one relationship or another  trying to be the person a particular partner wanted, and often lost sight of who I,  myself, want to be. I suspect that’s not an experience unique to me. I try to approach things differently these days. I work on becoming the person I most want to be, myself, for me, based on my own values and sense of self. Taking the raw materials I’ve got, chaos and damage and all the messy broken bits, and practicing the practices that move me along my path in a way that causes no harm in my relationships, and creates harmony and connection isn’t reliably easy (or obvious), but I keep at. Seems a worthy endeavor and life is better for it.

…I am for sure not “perfect”… (there is no “perfect”)

Just as I walk this trail one step at a time, I walk my path in life one step at a time. The nice thing about this is that when I stumble (and I do), I can begin again – one step at a time. I set my goals. I measure my progress. I define my success (and my failure).

It’s been a challenging couple of days, for me. Caring for my Traveling Partner while he recovers from an injury has some difficult moments, bringing me to confront some things I would like to do differently and with greater skill. Requires practice. He’s got his own path to walk, and I can’t walk it for him – and it’s a poor choice to take that at all personally. His path is not about me. It’s more effective to focus on what I can do to be a good partner and care provider, and to be alert for opportunities to do more/better – or at least not make shit worse.

…I gotta say, my results vary…

The weekend is almost here. These days that doesn’t promise any great amount of actual rest, at all, there’s just too much to get done, and pretty much every day I already feel very behind on basically everything, more or less all the time. I’ll make a list of “must do” items and add things my Traveling Partner has explicitly asked me to take care of, and do my best to work down that list, task by task, until it’s all done… if I’ve got it in me. Some days I manage it. Others I don’t. “Everything I can manage” has to be enough.

I breathe the fresh Spring air as I walk. It’s a beautiful morning. I exhale each breathe grateful to have another day ahead to practice being the woman I most want to be. Who is she? How does she interact with the world? How does she handle her emotions? What’s her self-talk like? I see her as kind, considerate, experienced, and able to calmly deal with most of life’s chaos without losing perspective. I see her as someone helpful and understanding, compassionate and concerned for the state of the world (and her relationships). I see her being willing to listen, and honest without being unkind. I see her as comfortable setting boundaries, and respecting the boundaries set by others. I see her as a woman of great joy and enormous capacity for love. She’s hospitable, generous – but not a “sucker”. She walks through life with purpose, confident her path is right for her.

…Gotta have goals! Helpful to have a sense of self, both as I am here/now, and also where I would like to find myself. I walk on with my thoughts…

…Breathe, exhale, relax… walk on.

The day ahead seems more ordinary and routine, as I walk. I find myself more able to avoid taking my partner’s recent temper personally (or my own) as I walk down the path. Most of these moments of ill temper are a byproduct of injury or pain, and the ups and downs of medication taken to relieve discomfort or promote healing. An astonishing amount of the medication we’re given pretty commonly also happens to be mind or mood altering, though people rarely discuss it as being so. Even OTC stuff often has profound potential to color our thinking or the lens through which we view the world. I remind myself to be more patient and kind about such things, and to try to let petty aggravations just… go. It’s not personal.  Hell, sometimes that shit is barely real.

I laugh to myself, thinking about my own moments of misplaced temper in life. No shortage of those. Perspective. I could do better. I keep practicing.

I also keep walking. I get to the bench at the turn around point and sit down to write for a few minutes. This is some of my most cherished time each day. These few minutes of self-reflection and writing help me focus on what matters most, and help me find my calm center, my sense of perspective, and my joy. Whatever else any given day throws my way, I’ve got this moment, pretty reliably. That’s something worth having. I savor it.

I breathe, exhale, relax, and take a moment to enjoy the Spring sunrise and the golden hues that filter through the trees. It’s a new day, and I’ve got the path ahead, and a chance to begin again.

I’m taking a few minutes, having a mid-morning, post-waffles, cup of tea (Smith’s No.120 Jasmine Nectar, which has a lovely delicate fragrance). The tea is quite good. The moment is… meh. It’s okay. Not great. Not terrible. Just a moment, and it’ll pass and I’ll move on to the next one. I’m in a ferocious amount of pain this morning, which colors every experience in spite of knowing how pointless and unhelpful it is for that to be a thing. I keep having to make a point of not allowing it to seep into every crevice of my awareness and experience. My results vary.

…The waffles were good, though…

I don’t feel inclined to finger-point, lay blame, or even “troubleshoot” this moment (or any previous, this morning), it’s not even about that. We’re each having our own experience. I’m pretty sure my Traveling Partner is in every bit as much pain as I am in, maybe more. That likely colors his experience, too. Probably best to simply acknowledge our individual and mutual discomfort and not take any of that at all personally. I sigh. Breathe. Exhale. Relax. (Fuck I wish I weren’t in so much pain, though… but at least the waffles were good…)

I think about the dishes that need doing. The laundry. Tidying up my office space in preparation for working from this location, generally. It didn’t sound like much to tackle when I woke up this morning. It seems almost too much, now. Nothing has changed but the amount of pain I’m in, and my perspective on the day (that is probably a lot to do with the pain I’m in). I’m glad it’s a long weekend… tomorrow may be better, but regardless, it’s at least another day to work on these “getting back to the day-to-day” sorts of details. I’ll be ready by the time the work week begins. I sure feel tired now.

I think about the wildflowers out on the coast and the ones on along the trail this morning. It’s interesting what a different assortment they are. I look for pictures, and only just now realize I didn’t take any this morning. I sort of just rather purposefully walked down the trail to “there”, and then back. It wasn’t a grim trudge, but it wasn’t notably joyful. I was just… existing. Doing a thing. I was already in pain.

I hear my Traveling Partner laughing in the other room. That brings a smile to my face, even though he’s been a bit cross this morning. He enjoyed the waffles, though – those were good, this morning. It was lovely to share that experience with him. Good waffles. 😀

…The waffles are gone. They were delicious. The moments pass. One by one they go from a moment of being to nothing more than a recollection. Impermanent. A small piece of a larger whole. Any given moment, however good, however difficult, is another chance to begin again. It’s something. It’s enough.