Archives for posts with tag: taking care of me

I got through most of the work day pretty well, yesterday. By noon I was fading fast, losing cognitive efficiency and clarity of thought quickly, with a viral-seeming sort of headache plaguing me quite continuously. I “called it” at 3:30 pm and headed for home a bit earlier than I typically would. I arrived home, stood in a hot shower for a while. Figured chicken soup would work for dinner. Couldn’t eat. Just had no appetite, and didn’t care. I went to bed about an hour or so after I got home, expecting to have a restless night, or be up again sometime later unable to sleep.

I woke to the alarm, at the usual time. Headache is gone. I feel alert, and generally okay. My head is a little stuffy, but not unmanageably so. I sit down with my coffee wondering how long this will take to fully run its course, pleased that it isn’t worse than it is, and glad that I took a Benadryl last night – it gets some credit for the long night of relatively deep sleep.

I scroll through my Facebook feed and then back out of that. There is a lot of anger in the world, and justifiably so in the face of new heights of government cruelty and societal bullshit. Is it really new, though? Nope. It’s really got our attention, now, though. People are really objecting to it, and are no longer willing to shrug it off, disappointed, disillusioned, and exhausted by lack of change. Social change that happens slowly over time often goes mostly unnoticed. Social change through protest, dissent, and private emotion in public places – “wearing our anger out loud” – is change through upheaval, and it definitely gets noticed. It creates a grand “conversation” between groups. It gets heated. Families get torn apart. Tribes are formed. Friendships end. Friendships are forged. It’s a time of change. From my own perspective, my best possible choice through it all is simply to be who I authentically am, on this personal journey to be that person most skillfully, most honestly, and with my choices and my will focused on my Big 5 (respect, consideration, reciprocity, compassion, and openness). It’s less about being right than it is about listening deeply and learning more… about being. If I can be a better person tomorrow than I am today, I am content that I am making progress toward being the person I most want to be, over time. If we were each committed to being the best possible human being we have the ability to be, it would be a good start on a peaceful world… right?

Right?

Right? Nah. Probably not. Most people already think they are “one of the good guys” with no further self-reflection at all, never considering the consequences of their actions on others. Tons of people are hung up on their own righteous ideology, their own opinions-as-fact, their own take on the world. We’re fancy primates; we don’t give up easily on our own bullshit.

Today is a good day to really listen to “the other side” of a discussion – however many other sides there are. Today is a good day to listen deeply, to consider other ideas than my own, and to make room in my awareness to understand the thinking of others. Today is a good day to accept the premise that we are each “doing our best”, generally, as we understand it ourselves. Today is a good day to ask illuminating questions – not to “win” an argument, but to truly illuminate my own thinking, and inform my understanding of the world more broadly, with greater wisdom and perspective. Today is a good day to maintain an awareness that we are each having our own experience. There is more to learn.

Today is a good day to begin again. 🙂

Weird morning. Restless night. I’m struggling to wake up fully. I’m feeling a bit uninspired by the day ahead – which is completely unfair to a day that is not yet started. There’s no knowing from this vantage point what the day may hold. I remind myself to give it a chance, and contentedly (if somewhat groggily) sip my coffee.

Rain-soaked park

The rain fell steadily yesterday. There is rain in today’s forecast, too. My perspective on rainy days sometimes changes, dependent on “having to” go out in it, or “getting to” go out in it. My hike yesterday, through the rain-soaked park, was lovely and I greatly enjoyed it. I’m less enthusiastic about my commute to work on rainy mornings. It’s odd that there is any difference in my appreciation for the rainy walk, considering I like both the walking, and the rain.

My wee container garden 

I spent some time in the garden, weeding potted miniature roses, taking note of winter losses, and planting some greens. I didn’t mind the steady drizzle then, any more than I minded on my morning walk. The sound of the wind-chime, and the musical ping of raindrops on the flue cover was delightful. I considered what the future holds for my wee garden, when I move to a home of my own… these roses have always been potted, except for one. I am eager to see them grow into the earth, and reach for the sky, once planted in beds and borders. What will I use the containers for, then? An unanswered question without any urgency to carry along with me while I look at houses, and consider each in the context of being my own.

The weekend is behind me, now. Another busy work week begins. I sip my coffee and consider what I can easily do to support myself today. Slow to wake up, and feeling sort of cross, still feeling some cold symptoms (that have still not become anything more noteworthy)… It seems a good day to treat myself well, and with consideration… How best to do so is the only question, now. How to similarly treat others well is another worthy question to consider.

One task after another, one question after another, one moment after another, the morning begins to take shape, and from there, the day. Today it’ll have to be enough to do my best, and to be considerate. We are each having our own experience. It’s a very human one.  🙂

The busy-ness of life finally caught up with me. Cold symptoms that I woke with yesterday morning seem no worse today, nor are they diminished. Fatigue yesterday resulted in hours of napping, and an early bed time. I didn’t sleep particularly deeply, but my sleep was satisfying and uninterrupted. I managed a few minutes more than 8 hours and woke feeling deeply rested, in minimal pain. Skillful self-care today should result in being fully rested and prepared for another week of work. It’s not fancy, but it is sustainable. I sip my coffee contentedly and begin to plan my day.

I take a break from writing (and day planning) to meditate, and sip coffee watching the soft gray dawn slowly becoming a lighter shade of rainy gray morning. I return to my writing unmeasured minutes later, but the lush green of the lawn and the dark green-black of the pine silhouetted against the gray morning sky continue to pull my eye from my writing to the window, and the world beyond this quiet space. I continue to sip my coffee contentedly. This moment, right here, is a very nice one, and I am enjoying it fully, and without criticism, judgement, or negative self-talk.

Just beyond the window, the soft gray dawn.

Yesterday I shared a visit to the nearby Farmer’s Market with a friend. She was having a tough time with her emotions and reached out for support. We took time for coffee, conversation, and strolling the market together. She talked about life, love, frustrations, and yearning for… something. I listened. She asked questions, I offered perspective – mine (it’s all I have). We deepened our friendship and our connection as we walked and talked and shared the morning. It feels good to count her as a friend. She is in a very young place in life (no surprise; she’s not yet 21) and feels adrift in a sea of choices and misinformation. No rule book on this playground. No map on this journey. We are each having our own experience. She is as wholesome as any 21st century girl-next-door can be, and filled with the turmoil and power of reactivity, passion, and emotion. She’s very human. We both are. It was time well-spent, and part of life’s curriculum for me as much as it may be for her; I sometimes struggle to build healthy friendships with other women (the chaos and damage being what it is).

The rest of the day unfolded quietly as a series of naps, and interludes of wakefulness that were relaxed and easy. It was a good day for it. I’m in less pain today, more rested, and don’t feel sicker. I’m satisfied that my choices met my needs. This morning will probably lead a similarly quiet easy day of housekeeping, meditating, and reading, as the gray spring sky spatters the windows with raindrops, and the last cold breezes lingering from winter toss the trees and the wind chime. No doubt later I will see geese and ducks, jays and crows, and my squirrel neighbors visiting the feeders as I sip coffee; it is still too early, now, for any of that besides me sipping coffee. 🙂

For now, I linger over my morning coffee unready to begin any daytime activities that require more of me. It’s that quiet time between waking and doing. The rain begins to fall more heavily, and I find myself regretting that I’ve no firewood, although it is not actually cold enough for that to make sense… It would be pretty. 🙂 I watch the rain fall beyond the window. It’s pretty out there too, just… wet. I laugh out loud in the quiet stillness of my studio; I am fearless about rain. I enjoy the rain. It’s a good morning to hike the level paved trail of the park beyond my window, and I settle on a hike as a lovely start to the day. The welcome-home embrace of a warm shower afterward will feel luxurious and sensuous. The morning begins to take shape in my thoughts.

Today is a good day to hike in the rain, to laugh with a friend, and to take care of this fragile vessel.  Today is a good day for self-care, and for living in this moment right here. Today is a good day to practice being the person I most want to be. While I can’t be certain these small things will change the world, they seem a good place to begin again. It’s enough. 🙂

 

 

 

I fell asleep composing coherent sentences, assembled from thoughts and words, suitable for this morning’s writing. It was, as I recall, a good idea for a blog post. Unsurprisingly, it was lost among my dreams, during the night. I woke rested, clear-headed, content – and utterly without a thought that seemed worth writing about.

I hoped the blinds in the studio to let the sunrise illuminate the room. I watched the geese on the lawn, sipped my coffee, and listened to the peculiar suburban hum of existing humanity that seems so nearly inescapable, generally. I notice that my throat is a little sore, and shuffle my weekend plans around to reduce stress, labor, and exposing others to potential contagion, in case I am sick. If I’m  not actually ill, the sore throat remains a sign that I likely need more rest than I have been getting. I decide to take care of this fragile vessel this weekend. Life is more a thru-hike along a breath-taking wilderness trail than a paved loop through a state park; it’s important to take care, and pace myself. 🙂

I hear my Traveling Partner stirring in the other room, making coffee. I smile, content and wrapped in love. Last evening was weird, infused with drama. OPD. Not my drama. I am supportive throughout, although I struggle a bit with resenting that a human being I have made a point to cut out of my life completely can still push so much toxic waste into my experience. The resentment quickly fades to sorrow that my Traveling Partner has this bullshit to deal with in another (any other) relationship. I know a lot of people who do. Myself, I tend to fairly quickly find my way to “troll blocking” and “unfriending” these days, even in real life; I have no liking of, or time for, destructive games or drama, and very specifically define “love” and “affection” as exclusive of those sorts of things. Yep. I said it. If you treat someone badly on the regular, it is not understandable (to me) that you “love” them. From my own perspective, you do not. That’s not love. There’s no room for argument, it’s merely my opinion, and how my own map of the world looks.

No drama today, I hope. I sip my coffee and smile. My Traveling Partner puts his head in the studio to tell me that there is a new season of Samurai Jack. Finally! Season 5. We share a fondness for it. I can’t tell if my moment of delight has anything to do with Samurai Jack at all, it’s all mixed up with my delight that my Traveling Partner is here this morning. I have no idea what the day holds. It is unplanned. Unscripted. I wonder what moment will define it.

Today is a good day for patience, and a good day for contentment. Today is a good day to love, and to live gently. Today is a good day for laughter, kindness, and gratitude. Today is a good day to enjoy small things, and to build a drama free zone. Today is a good day to make the choices that change the world.

The sleep I got last night was good, but not enough to be “rested”. This makes two days on less than 5 hours of sleep. I saw my physician in the morning, yesterday. I see another on Thursday. I worked. I saw a house, then home for dinner. The excitement of the day being what it was, I found myself lost in the vastness of it all, crying. Just crying. It wasn’t “personal”, and there was nothing to do about it but let the tears fall. I still couldn’t sleep, so went next door and hung out with friends for a few minutes. I had reached out unsuccessfully to my Traveling Partner; we’d been chatting through the late afternoon, already, and not reaching him didn’t trouble me. I figured he was in the studio. (I was just the tiniest bit jealous to find out later he was sleeping. lol)

I woke with effort this morning. I feel okay, I guess. Scratchy eyes. Headache. Sluggish. Thinking is still an effort even after some yoga, meditation, and a lovely shower. My headspace feels as if filled with some immovable goo or epoxy; it is a less than ideal state of consciousness, generally. I pause and pull myself more fully upright, correcting posture that would otherwise make me quite uncomfortable in a very short time. I notice my left hand sort of curled in on itself, resting on my lap in that moment; I am fatigued to the point that some of the indicators of my brain injury are more pronounced than usual. I stand up and stretch, feeling joints crack and pop and shift. I frown for a moment, thinking about work as a massive unscripted undertaking in which enormous quantities of random busy-ness (lol) must be processed under the watchful eye of a ticking clock. I remind myself this is a new week, a new experience, and that last week’s intensity is behind me. My perspective shifts and shifts again as I wake more fully.

I take a deep breath and another. I sip my coffee and wait for my brain to catch up with my insistence on starting the day. I should be good for one or two more of these short nights before spelling errors and temper tantrums catch up with me…

Today I begin again feeling pretty reliant on good practices, reliable habits, planned tasks, and routine. I’m okay right now, just tired. Today is a good day to take care of the woman in the mirror – and to extend similar consideration to all the other working zombies out there, wrung out and over-extended by the demands of adulting for another day. We are each having our own experience. We are all in this together. If we’re kind to each other, we can change the world… even on less than 5 hours of sleep. 😀