Archives for posts with tag: taking care of me
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Starry Night, Foggy Morning

November 21, 2024 //
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I slept well enough, I suppose. Restless. Probably excited to face the new day; no work, a beautiful drive through the countryside, a couple days painting on the coast. It’s worth being excited about, and a worthy prelude to the holiday season. In the wee hours, my restlessness increased; I think my Traveling Partner was also struggling to find sound sleep. The night eventually passed.

I woke, gathered the last couple of things to be packed for the trip. Read a note from my partner asking me to mail a package he’d previously said could wait. S’ok. I half-expected it, anyway. I had a box ready and the item (and box) was added to the things I’d take along with me. The morning feels effortless and if not thoroughly joyful, quite delightfully serene.

I got going, put gas in the car, got coffee and headed for my current favorite local trail to get my walk before the drive. I fell recently, and I’m okay but wanted to be on the safe side walking in the predawn darkness. This trail is asphalt paved, gently lit much of the way, and quite level. A good choice. Walking before the drive puts the drive well after daybreak too. Better driving conditions, better view of the autumn scenery.

There’s a picnic table at my halfway point. I stop to sit for a few minutes, enjoying the scents of autumn and the starry night sky. There’s a mist in the low spots near the creek and a hint of fog. The morning is so quiet. My breath makes steam. The morning is not quite freezing, but definitely chilly. I take off my gloves to write a few words, grateful to have remembered to wear them.

There’s a construction site not too far away. I sigh to myself as workers begin arriving, their brightly lit noisy pickups coming around a bend in the road nearby. The headlights mess with my vision in the darkness. Oh well. I sigh again. It’s chilly. I should get going before I feel the cold anyway. Besides… it’s time to begin again. 😀

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Categories Allegories, art and the artist, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Practices, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, The Art of Being

Here It Comes

November 20, 2024 //
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I woke tired from a restless night of strangely lively surreal dreams. My walk felt short, and rushed. My day already feels busy and “crowded” with things that must get done before daybreak tomorrow, and the start of a few days of downtime spent attending to my emotional needs, and indulging artistic inspiration. Self-care is important and worth the time commitment to get a few things done so I can be away without concern, but… good grief I feel so busy right now.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s the start of the workday, and looks to be an easy one. Routine, at least. Then home early enough to take my Traveling Partner to an appointment, then a quick shopping trip, then make (and enjoy) dinner, then pack (omg I should have worked from home today) and load the car, then, if there’s still time, a little time spent just chilling with my partner enjoying the last of the evening. Yeah, it feels like a busy day, but I’ve got a plan, and it’s not really “all that” – it just feels busy. Another breath. Another moment.

I’m in so much pain lately. A few days to myself to sit with that without also feeling like I’ve got to mask it to avoid making everyone around me uncomfortable will be a nice “luxury”. There’s more stress than I want to admit in having to “put a good face on it” when I hurt like this. Pain relief measures only do so much, and I’m not willing to take (nor am I prescribed) the quantities of painkillers it would take to shut down this amount and intensity of my personal combination of arthritis and headache pain. It is what it is. I’m also not willing to let pain call my shots or totally wreck my experience; there’s more to life than the pain I’m in. I remind myself often. Sometimes it helps, sometimes it just annoys me. Sometimes being annoyed about it helps in its own way. My Traveling Partner endures his own pain. Hell, even the Anxious Adventurer deals with pain – and frankly, most people do, to some extent, I guess. The challenge is not being a dick about it, and doing the most we each can to go ahead and live a good life in spite of the pain we’re in, and to remain mindful that we can’t possibly fully understand the pain someone else is in. Ever. Even if they say. We just can’t know their experience the way they do. So…I try to manage mine, and mostly keep it to myself. It’ll be nice to have a couple days to just sit and weep over it, while I paint, if that’s where it takes me, and not be worried that anyone else will be affected by those tears, or my pain.

Beyond the pain, I’m looking forward to a couple days of watching the tide come and go, and sitting with my thoughts – and my grief – and just “getting my head right” in my own way. The holidays are coming. The first in decades that my Dear Friend won’t be part of that experience in any way. That hurts more than I expected it to. No need to think about what to send her. No need to share anecdotes or pictures. No need to message her on Giftmas morning so she doesn’t experience the morning alone. No need to delight her with my curiosity about what my Traveling Partner may have gotten me, or made me, this year. She’s just…not here. My sorrow tries to swamp me every time I remember, and I really need to get past that somehow. It’s a lot. Granny? Gone, too. And Mom. And my long-gone girlfriend, T. There are unshed tears waiting their turn to fall, and I need to allow myself time for that this year.

I’m eager to hit the road, and hit the trail. Eager to walk my own path and feel my feelings (there’s no shame in these honest tears). I’m eager to begin again on the other side; the way out is through.

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Categories Allegories, art and the artist, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, grief, health, inspiration, Love, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being, women

Vaxxed and Boosted

November 18, 2024 //
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Good weekend. I woke feeling rested and alert, grateful for a wake time so reliable that setting my alarm for p.m. instead of a.m. by mistake didn’t matter at all; I woke within 10 minutes of my planned time. No stress. Very little pain. It’s a good start to the day.

At my Traveling Partner’s request, and to attempt to meet more of life’s demands more easily with less stress, I changed my weekend routine a bit. Changes in routine are ridiculously difficult for me (and this may be true for a lot of people who live with the consequences of head trauma). It’ll take some practice to get the details down such that it actually feels “routine” again. It’s fine. As I said, it was a good weekend.

Yesterday I made time to finish up my annual vaccinations. Got my RSV vaccine – I’m old enough now for that one to be recommended, so I made a point to get it. Got the second shot for the shingles vaccine, too. I don’t want shingles, and if a vaccination is going to reduce my risk, I’m definitely getting it.

I know there are a lot of people with reservations about getting vaccinated. I don’t actually understand that, except in the case of people with certain very specific health concerns that make some vaccines higher risk than the risk of exposure to the condition they protect against. I’m old enough to remember polio being a serious concern, and to have older family members who actually had polio.  Smallpox is another huge vaccine success story. Measles, too. The science is clear and convincing; vaccination is effective risk reduction against a bunch of very nasty diseases. The Army, in my era of service, was pretty non-negotiable and no nonsense about vaccines; we stood in a long queue together in basic training and got vaccinated, one by one, against everything they had a fucking shot for. lol They got no argument from me.

…I think people have forgotten how commonplace and devastating some of these diseases were…

Do I want to be first in line to take a brand new vaccine with limited medical history? Maybe not. I suppose it depends on my risk and the lethality or negative outcomes of the disease. (I was pretty eager to get the COVID vaccine.) I don’t like taking any kind of new pharmaceutical. I feel more comfortable when I know there’s a history of efficacy and that the research shows it’s safe to take. But, with that in mind, I’m definitely “pro-vaccine”, given demonstrated efficacy and safety. I’ve had the flu shot most years since I was an adult free to make my own decision about it. The years I missed it were generally about not being able to afford medical care.

Vaccination-wise you do you, of course. I’m not seeking to persuade you. I get vaccinated because I don’t like being sick. I’m just mentioning it in passing. It was part of my pleasant weekend.

It’s a rainy Monday morning. There’s a fat round full moon in the sky peeking through the rain clouds. I’m hoping for a break in the rain and a walk before work. I feel more alert and clear-headed when I get a walk in the morning. It is a practice with proven worthiness. Later, I’ll take the car to the dealership on my way to the ok office. Nothing major, just a bit of routine maintenance; a headlight went out, and I don’t feel like replacing it myself in a steady downpour (and I’m hoping to have the headlights upgraded, if possible). If this were my partner’s truck it would be a nearly effortless bulb swap that takes only a moment. My car isn’t quite that easy, and it’s a bit of a pain in the ass. I could do it, but I don’t want to. I’ve got enough other stuff on my to-do list already. It’s a safety thing though, and needs to be done promptly. So… getting it done.

Every bit of all of these things are self-care related. Self-care is important. Definitely recommend taking care of yourself!

I sigh, and smile to myself. It’s a good beginning to an ordinary Monday. It’s a short week with a long weekend ahead; another opportunity to care for myself, this time by taking a couple days on the coast to paint and reflect and walk on the beach. Another good opportunity to begin again.

The rain stops, the clouds begin to drift away. Daybreak is faint on the eastern horizon, and it’s definitely a new day. I lace up my boots to get started down my path. I’m grateful for another day to walk it.

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Categories autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, The Art of Being, Uncategorized

A Life Hack and A Practice

November 14, 2024 //
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I left the house before dawn, and it was raining pretty steadily. It had been raining through the night. I rarely sleep in, but it’s a day I’ve planned to work from home, so waking up early wasn’t really necessary. I “slept in” 15 minutes, still waking quite early. It’s a habit more than a practice.

It’s raining…skip the walk? No; I value the routine, and it’s time well-spent thinking, meditating, or writing, anyway. “Me time”.  I dress and slip away quietly (I hope).

The life hack? Having a comfortable routine that meets my needs. By the time I reached the trailhead the rain had stopped (at least for now). Hardly seems like much of a “life hack”, but in our high distraction, “everybody wants a piece of me” world, having a healthy routine that meets our own needs is uncommon, and requires a bit of work to refine, establish, and maintain. Worth it, though. I sigh contentedly as I lace up my boots. The pale gray clouds against the night sky separate as they drift onward, revealing the stars. Beautiful. Peaceful.

The practice? Non-attachment! I could have arrived to this place in a drenching downpour, unsuited to an easy morning walk. I’d have had to make choices, what to do with the circumstances and my moment could require a thoughtful change. That’s only frustrating and annoying if I cling to expectations of a specific outcome. Choosing to practice non-attachment and commit only to healthy self-care more generally is so much less stressful than having to cope with disappointment first thing in the morning, almost before I’m completely awake.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. Lovely morning for a walk, although the sun hasn’t yet risen, and daybreak is not yet here. I’m okay with that. I pull my headlamp and rain poncho out of my backpack, grateful to be prepared. I’m ready.

Time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, The Art of Being, weight loss secrets

Where Does This Path Lead?

November 11, 2024 //
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It’s a blustery unexpectedly mild morning after a night of steady rain, autumn in the Pacific Northwest. It’s Veteran’s Day, too, and although it is a Monday, I’m off work. The silhouetted trees sway against the gray sky in the pre-dawn darkness. It’ll be a little while longer until daybreak comes, and I’m in no hurry.

It’s been a good weekend thus far, and it’s a good moment now. Later, I’ll get some housework done, and maybe watch some anime with my Traveling Partner, if he’s not out in the shop with the new lathe. I smile in the darkness; good choice of birthday gift, and it’s good to see my partner on his feet and in the shop doing things. He’s still got quite a way to go recovery-wise, after his injury, and his surgery, but he’s getting there. I can’t walk that path for him, I can only walk my own alongside him.

The cars woosh by on the wet highway, beyond the trailhead parking. I sit quietly with my thoughts, enjoying the moment. It’s not fancy or particularly special, but it’s mine. I’m grateful for the mild morning, although I’m in tremendous pain in spite of the somewhat warmer temperature. I’ve spent autumn and winter in pain since about 1986 I guess? Something like that. This past couple of years it’s been all year, off and on, and this year so far more painful days than not. While that does generally suck, there’s not that much more I can do about it, without profoundly increasing my risk of addiction or substance abuse, or related bad outcomes, so I endure and do what I can.

One of the most important practices for enduring the pain I live with, without losing myself to it completely, is being present. Sounds simple, but takes a lot of practice. It’s easy to end up focusing on the pain itself instead of acknowledging it, doing what I can, and moving on to other elements of my experience in the moment. My results vary, but it’s definitely better than being mired in the pain of my arthritis and my headaches. So I sit in the stillness and quiet of a morning, listening to the traffic, and observing the lights of businesses and houses beyond the fields on the other side of the highway. I breathe, exhale, and relax, watching the sky slowly lighten as daybreak approaches on the eastern horizon. I write, meditate, and reflect. I enjoy the moment as it is, without giving much thought to the pain; it’s just one detail of many. Is it a perfect solution? Nope. Is it a cure? Not even a little bit. It’s just better than letting the pain become my world.

Daybreak at last. I hear the geese waking up on the marsh. I lace up my boots and grab my cane. One step at a time, I walk my path, and it’s time to begin (again).

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Categories Allegories, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, The Art of Being
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