Archives for posts with tag: taking care of me

It’s a Friday morning. A busy morning. A mostly sort of routine-ish morning. I’ve got my coffee (#2), and a day of work ahead of me. I’ve got errands to run and a reminder on my calendar. I’m okay with all of that, and feeling mostly sort of relaxed, and generally fairly organized.

The noise of contractors here at the house is a bit much to take. Calls and meetings would be affected. I’m fortunate to be able to easily reschedule all but one. I focus on work, then catch myself holding my breath – too focused. I take a break.

Take breaks. Mean it when you do; really step away, and take a minute to “just breathe” and maybe even let your mind wander! When I returned to work, I felt fresh and comfortably focused without stress or anxiety. It’s enough to notably improve what is already a decent morning. I sip my cold coffee, content and relaxed. It’s enough.

Before the work day began, this morning, I embarked on what I hope becomes a regular element of my new normal, my new morning routine; I went for a walk. It was only a mile, and really just around and about my local neighborhood, brisk, cane in hand, smiling and waving to neighbors getting their day started. It was pleasant. I felt energized for the day ahead by the time I returned home. It’s not a hike in the forest or anything, but it’s a nice contribution to my general wellness and fitness.

I discover a pleasantly inaccessible bit of green space within the neighborhood.

It’s a nicely level walk, on suburban sidewalks, nestled in the countryside, tucked between a local highway and the “old” version of that route. Since I sometimes walk very early, as early as those last dark pre-dawn minutes, straying from the pavement would present needless hazards for my messed up ankle. I take my cane, and my patience with myself (and my middle-aged, less-than-ideally-fit-but-working-on-it limitations), and enjoy the journey for what it is. A gentle moment with the woman in the mirror as the way ahead becomes steps fading behind me. I see things I missed before, each time I make the trip around the neighborhood; it’s still very new.

I stop near where the creek that runs behind the house becomes a mere trickle, and wonder what is holding back the flow?

I walk on, wondering what “holds back my flow’ in life, love, and art… just… you know, “along the way”, and how can I “do more, better” without exhausting myself, or finding myself mired in resentment or resistance? I think about the need for healthy breaks, and how that improves my productivity at work… There’s something to learn here.

…I drink some water, and begin again. πŸ™‚

 

The morning starts well. A soak in the spa. A hot cup of coffee. A soft gray daybreak. A great (explicit) new rap track. There’s so much potential in a new day. Later there’ll be work to do, maybe errands to run, effort to be exerted, or conflict to resolve, but right now? It’s just this quiet moment, early on a Thursday morning. I don’t know what the future holds in a post-pandemic world (or if there even will be a post-pandemic world for humanity, at all…). I don’t know who the next president will be. I don’t know what tomorrow has to offer. The future is undecided.

What do I want life to look and feel like? That’s a good question to ask, to answer, and then to reconsider. What quality would I want to characterize my general experience of life well-lived? My answer to that question has changed over the years. My understanding of “success” has changed. My understanding of “what life is about” has changed, too. What I want for myself – and of myself – has changed. I sip my coffee and think about that. Who does the woman in the mirror most want to be? What are those qualities that are most likely to ease me into the life I most want to live, long-term?

…I suspect I’m either “late to the party” on some of these questions, or simply prone to having this conversation with myself regularly, forgetting all about it, and having to do it again. πŸ™‚ It feels a bit adolescent, but in my own adolescence I felt pretty sure of most things, in my grim angry cynical way. My level of “certainty” about life probably impeded my growth and forward progress, if only by preventing me asking some significant questions of myself. I’m okay with uncertainty these days – which is pretty useful, since there’s a lot of that around. lol

…It’s a nice morning for reflecting on life, over a good cup of coffee. Decent playlist, too. πŸ™‚

I think about life in the context of this place, this dwelling, this address, this community – this is where I am. It’s been a complicated journey of 57 years. As my coffee begins to grow cold, I think about where this path may lead, accepting the uncertainties, embracing the practices that tend most to keep me on this path I’ve chosen. I feel fortunate, and make room for a moment of gratitude. It’s not that there haven’t been some terrible moments in life, some damage to heart and mind and body (some of which I feel even to this moment, now) – but those experiences don’t define me, now. They are not “who I am” – only what I’ve been through.

I think about a conversation with my Traveling Partner early in the week, about self-care, and my unfortunate lack of consistency in such things. He’s got a point, and I know that – and for every good practice I develop, there’s another I need to reinforce, and become more consistent with. It’s an ongoing thing (and why they are “practices”). I think about this day, ahead of me, right now. So far, so good. There’s more to it, and I can “do more/better” with my self-care practices. No criticism, no self-loathing – I’m not beating myself up over it, just reminding the woman in the mirror to make the worthy effort. It’s needful. It’s worthwhile. I benefit greatly from those moments, and am bettered for taking care of this fragile vessel with all the skill I have, and all the energy I can muster for it. πŸ™‚

…New day, new beginning. Time to begin again.

The weekend ended, and it is Monday. It happened in that peculiar time-outside-of-time that some weekends can feel like they exist within. The weekend went by deliciously slowly, but also too fast, and now it is over. lol It was a lovely weekend. πŸ™‚

I’m sipping my coffee contentedly, in the morning quiet. My Traveling Partner sleeps on. I think about the deep meaningful conversations we had. I think about the delight of soaking in the hot tub together. I think about walks in the woods, and the small, socially distancing, mask-wearing farmers’ market nearby that I visited on Saturday. I recall with fondness and love the time spent just hanging out together while my partner worked on a painting project.

…There were cloudy days…

We had some rain. We had some sunshine. True of emotion as well as the weather. lol It was a lovely weekend, rich in memories made, and experiences shared.

…There was time for watching clouds…

…Hell…I even got some time at home alone… πŸ˜€

Time spent well…and not just out on the trail…

…I totally didn’t write. Oh, I thought about it, but I spent the time in the moment – in each moment – just living life and enjoying the experience. πŸ™‚ There would be (and turns out, there is) time for “words on paper” later on.

…I did mean to write actual letters and emails to friends and family members. I didn’t get to it, but I did mean to. LOL

…Is that a hint of chill in the morning and evening air I’m feeling… and an impression of color in the leaves of trees…?

I can say with confidence that I feel “well cared-for” after a weekend of love and self-care. It’s enough. I’m content that my time was well-spent. πŸ™‚

 

My coffee has gone cold. It’s been that sort of morning. Distractions. Being here, “now”, instead of driven by habit.

I woke to a misty drenching rain that I was only aware of once I stepped out onto the deck, shortly before dawn. So lovely. I love the sound of rain on leaves, and the bit of forest just beyond the deck definitely provides it. I’m still smiling. My thoughts are still full of raindrops and birdsong. I started the morning with a rainy day soak in the hot tub, which was soothing, and I’m in so much less pain because of it. The bonus, this morning, was in the conversation. My Traveling Partner opened the door on a fairly deep discussion for such an early time of morning (more or less “pre-coffee”). A rare thing. It went well, and looking back feels as productive as it felt helpful in the moment. New perspective on old issues. Gentle sharing, with consideration, and thoughtful use of language. Win. (Way to do “adulthood” well on a Thursday!)

Raindrops and blossoms on the pear tree beyond my window.

Eventually, the work day had to begin, and so it has. Same great job, same great boss… same real life “harsh reality” that change is a thing. Change just is. Few promises, few guarantees, and a lot of changes – that’s real. Too real this morning. Yesterday I got the news about a personnel change that matters to me (emotionally) a great deal. Hard to see someone I enjoy working with moving on. I mean… I’m glad they found something promising that will meet more of their needs, for sure. I will miss working with them a lot – I’ve learned a lot working with this colleague, and become a more skillful professional as a result. I also appreciate their enthusiastic interest in deep conversations, meta analysis, and unusual tangents and correlations. It’s hard seeing them go.

…I’ve “stood in this place” before, and the time that follows has sometimes been pretty unpleasant, and I’ve left jobs over the loss of… “communion”? Maybe that is the “right word”? Certainly, I’ve left jobs when things reached a point where I no longer had professional relationships I really enjoyed among my closest colleagues. This time, I’m in a healthier place as a human being (in spite of social distancing, pandemic life, and all of the baggage and bullshit I still tend to lug around). I don’t find myself catastrophizing what the future may hold. πŸ™‚ It’s just a change.

Change is.

I sip my now-cold coffee, haplessly left behind on my way to soak and converse with my Traveling Partner as the rainy dawn unfolded into a gray rainy day. It’s still a good cup of coffee. I don’t mind that it is cold. Sometimes changes are just changes, and even though they “feel like” a big deal in one moment, later, in some other, they’ll probably just be what is. πŸ™‚ It’s enough for a Thursday morning. I take a moment to contemplate change.

I begin again.

 

It is morning. I’m awake. I’m feeling sort of cross and irritable, and there’s no obvious reason for any of that. I sip my coffee and work on getting past it. Mostly just sitting here, at my desk, thinking thoughts, not even writing, just sitting here, quietly. It’s enough, at least for now, and nothing about just sitting here quietly makes me more irritated or cross, so… yeah. Good enough.

I take a deep breath, and exhale, and relax. I do that a handful of times. I feel myself begin to relax – notice that happening, and find myself cross all over again. Dumb. I begin again. It is what it is, right? I shrug it off, and give myself a do-over. The room feels peculiarly warm. Is it me? My Traveling Partner woke early, and complained of feeling ill… Am I coming down with something or other, too? Another breath. Another slow relaxed exhalation. Another beginning.

It is, aside from my crossness, a lovely morning. I slept well, and even slept through the night (that’s been rare since we moved in here, I usually get up at least once during the night, however briefly). My coffee is good. The moon was hanging overhead, above the deck, when I went outside for some air, first thing, waiting for water to be hot enough to make coffee. In all respects, a very pleasant morning.

…So what’s with my moody bullshit?? (Just a human being human, I guess…)

I promise myself a measure of gentleness and kindness today – I deserve that from me. I remind myself to be considerate and patient with the world – everyone involved in this adventure called life is wholly human, themselves. My Traveling Partner sticks his head in the studio doorway, then follows with his whole self. His presence makes me smile in spite of feeling out of sorts, generally. He walks away after a few moments of conversation about ants, packages, and hot tub water quality. I’m still smiling. Maybe it’ll be a good day, in spite of waking up grumpy? I point out to myself how often (and how easily) an emotional state is confused for being “reality” – when really it’s just a feeling. Nothing much to do with “reality” in any practical way, until we connect those dots and insist on it for ourselves. Our emotions are their own thing, their own experience, quite separate from the practical details of what is going on with and around us, and sometimes not rooted in some obvious cause, at all.

I shrug off being cross, again. I notice how pleasant the air conditioning feels. I hear my partners voice from the other room, and notice the joy and comfort I find in the sound of it. I pay attention to the way the changes in my desk, studio, and workstation arrangements support better posture, and result in less day-to-day pain. I make room to be aware, very specifically, that I am in less pain this morning that I might “ordinarily” be in. I even pause to notice (and reject) the use of the word “ordinary” to describe the frequency of my pain; the words we use matter, and language is often how we “encode” our perceptions of “reality” in our thinking. I’m in less pain this morning. I make a point to be aware of that, and avoid making it a bigger deal at all.Β  I sip my coffee and notice the feeling of contentment that gives me. I make a point to enjoy that feeling, and to be aware of it.

I breathe, exhale, relax – and begin again. Sometimes that’s enough. πŸ™‚