Archives for posts with tag: TANSTAAFL

Choose Your Ride, Pay For Your Ticket

March 3, 2025 //
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Nothing in life is free. Seriously. You want the thing? You pay the price. You want to embark on that adventure? It comes at a cost. You’re going to take that chance, jump at that opportunity, walk down that path over there? You’ll pay for it, one way or another. This isn’t a threat, nor is it a warning, I’m just saying there’s a price to be paid for our choices, and it isn’t always in cash, or stated clearly up front.

Last Wednesday, the Anxious Adventurer and I finished off the storage move. (Yay!) There was a feeling of accomplishment, but it was also a lot of work. Friday, I took the day off work and spent about 7 hours walking on beaches, with breaks in between to write a few words, or go from “here” to “there” – about 11 total miles of walking, based on my tracker. Saturday began with a 3 mile walk on a favorite trail, and ended with housekeeping, chores, and gardening. Sunday was more of the same. Today? Yeah, today “the bill came due” and I’m paying for all of it; I feel like I’ve been in a serious fight (and lost). My muscles ache from the least of efforts. It was difficult just getting out of bed and getting dressed this morning. My back, legs, shoulders, and neck all ache ferociously, and I’m stiff. So stiff. Today I’m walking with a cane just getting from the car to my desk to the coffee in the office kitchenette, and I’m “wearing my years”. I’m not complaining, just saying this is where I am, and why. I take a moment to consider the sensations of my body. This fragile vessel needs care, and while that’s true every day, right now I’m really feeling it. Funny thing is, most of these things I did so much of were themselves forms of self-care. Hilarious (for some forms of humor). (I guess you had to be there. lol)

I breathe, exhale, and “relax” – best I can, hurting the way I do right now. It’ll pass. I remind myself that there’s always a price to be paid for the things we do, or want, or achieve, even if only the time consumed of our limited mortal years. Was the price too high? No, not at all, and I’m paying it without objection, resentment, or resistence. It is what it is. (Which is, mostly, painful at present.) The moment will pass. The pain will ease. I’ll go on to be stronger for the effort I’ve made, and I’m pleased with the outcome (particularly in the garden). Hell, there’s more yet to do. Life doesn’t pause for a breather just because a task has been completed. There’s always that next step. Another project. Another moment.

…Life being lived; there are verbs involved…

Garden books & seed packets; the plan is not the experience.

I sip my coffee (g’damn I am so sore this morning, even sipping coffee manages to hurt), pleased that it is so good today. I smile thinking about the work in the garden, progress made toward Spring, and seeds yet to be planted. The metaphor of a garden is one of my personal favorites, and I consider what I am planting – in the garden, and in life – and how best to tend my garden for a bountiful harvest. There’s work involved, and it helps to plan, and to proceed with intention, but the path ahead isn’t predetermined, and the way is not always clear. I sigh contentedly in spite of my physical discomfort. I’m fortunate, and I sit with my gratitude for a moment. We become what we practice, for sure, and our choices and actions make a difference in the life we lead – but where our journey begins, and what obstacles befall us along the way, matters too – and we have less control over that. I reflect awhile on my good fortune in life, generally. I’m not saying it’s been “an easy life”, and I’ve surely had what sometimes seems like more than my “fair share” of trauma over the years, but… considering things from the perspective of this one human experience of a lifetime of growth and change and circumstance? I’m fortunate, indeed. (It’s rarely helpful to become mired in pain, or to wallow in the chaos and damage.) I’ve much to be grateful for…

I sip my coffee, think my thoughts, and prepare to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, joy, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Practices, Spring, The Art of Being, turning 60, weight loss secrets, winter

Pain & Winter Weather

February 19, 2025 //
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I’m sipping my coffee on a rainy winter morning, feeling cross and irritated and in considerable pain. It’s the pain making me so cranky, but it’s “only” my osteoarthritis (and my perpetual headache), and there’s not much to do about it, really. I live with this. A lot of people live with pain, that’s a real thing. I sigh to myself, as I pull my posture more upright. It helps a tiny bit, though barely noticeable in the moment. The moments add up. I’m grateful to have gotten a good night’s sleep. I’m grateful to have what limited Rx pain relief available to me that I do (and am willing to use).

My reflection stares back at me from the window; it’s not yet daybreak, and I see a middle-aged woman with slightly tousled carelessly-kept long hair, glasses, wrapped in a warm (if a bit frumpy) sweater, looking back at me. She looks pleasant and approachable, relaxed, with a soft smile hinting at a life well-lived, and maybe some interesting stories to tell. She looks just a bit… amused. I don’t see the pain, just the smile, which reaches her eyes. At the corners of her eyes and her smile, laugh lines, no frown lines. She looks… capable. She looks ready for the day and unbothered. I find myself liking what I see reflected there in the window. I sigh again and think “you’ll do”, and take another sip of my coffee. I’m not at all sure how I got “here” – it’s been a difficult journey in spots, and I’ve often wandered off my path – but I’m okay with where I am, and that feels like a win.

I sip my coffee thinking about friends. Thinking about love. Thinking about errands I need to run. I think about hearth and home and all the things that add up to this life I live. It’s not perfect; there’s the pain, obviously. That’s its own difficult experience. I try not to take it personally. Things could be so much worse. Instead of living with this pain, I could have rejected having the surgery to repair my shattered spine, and taken a chance on things “just healing up” more or less, and most likely ended up in a wheel-chair, unable to walk at all. It can be hard to trust the opinion of an expert; we live in cynical times. I’m glad I did – I walk every day, and often see the sunrise from some favorite trail. The pain seems like a price worth paying for that privilege, most of the time. My irritation slips away. I chose this with my eyes open. I may not have understood the full measure of the price I’d be paying when I lay there sedated in the ICU so many years ago, but I knew there’d be a price. TANSTAAFL.

One cold winter night 40 years ago, I ran from a knife wielding man to save my own life. I took the only route available to me, that I could see in the moment, which led me to dangling from a balcony rail, dangerously high above a beautiful tiled patio, slick with ice. That man was my then-husband, who rushed to the balcony to plead with me not to let go. I looked back at him in a moment of unexpected clarity and calm, aware of my agency in a new way. The choice was mine. “I have to,” I said, and I did. The explosion of light in my head and the sudden pain that shot through me and my breath knocked out of my body overcame me only for seconds before adrenaline and terror drove me to my feet to seek help. It was a moment of profound change. One choice. One moment.

I sit with my thoughts a while. “I had no other choice” is reliably a lie. We have choices (many) – I know I’ve made a lot of them. Probably the worst choice(s) I’ve ever made? Telling myself I’ve no other choice, and and following the path that took me down. The menu in The Strange Diner is immense. We choose, on our own, to keep it folded, and to narrow our options willfully. Refusing to consider all the options is also a choice.

We’re born “a blank page”, and although we have little to say about our introduction to life, we have so many choices as we grow, and more once we are adult and free to do as we will. What will you do with it? The menu in The Strange Diner is impressively vast. What will you choose? Will you make your world (and your life) a better place in which to thrive? Will you walk a path that leads you somewhere beautiful? Will you take the steps that carry you to becoming the person you most want to be? Who is that? What will your legacy be? You have choices. Choose wisely. Pay the price. Don’t take the pain personally.

It’s time to begin again.

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

When It Feels Like Things Just Keep Getting Worse

February 17, 2025 //
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I’m sipping iced coffee on a mild rainy winter morning, waiting for a break in the rain. I don’t really like taking my walk in the rain. It’s definitely raining too hard to comfortably enjoy a walk. I sit listening to the raindrops on the roof of the car, and the cars wooshing by on the wet highway beyond the trailhead parking. Now and then the rain begins to diminish before resuming just as heavily as before. I wait.

I’m glad I got coffee on my way. I take a moment for gratitude, and to appreciate this simple luxury.

I glance at the news only long enough to regret doing so. Obvious profit-driven sponsored content and repetitive AI-written articles from the outrage machinery of corporate media fills my feed, and I feel almost fortunate; I am not tempted to explore further or continue scrolling. Why would I deliberately consume actual garbage? Well, I wouldn’t.

Two headlines catch my attention: DOGE wants access to private citizen IRS data (yeah, that’s every bit as horrifying as it sounds, and completely inappropriate, but likely to happen nonetheless), and someone wants Trump’s birthday to be a federal holiday. That one has me laughing a bit. I mean, sure, okay. First, what a dumb fucking idea, and I definitely rolled my eyes, but also, and here’s what got me laughing… How “fun” (?) to have a dedicated day of mourning for lives wrecked by government stupidity, bad decision-making, petty cruelty, and all manner of the ridiculous horrible chaos this administration has wrought? We could celebrate by wearing black, hosting resume writing parties, and attending civics seminars and civil rights protests! I’m still chuckling to myself. No way I’d celebrate that clown’s natal day any other way. What a petty, corrupt, vain, cruel, ignorant nitwit. America doesn’t really have a day for burning effigies… maybe we should?

I sigh to myself. When shit gets bad, humor is a lifeline to a better time. Don’t forget to laugh. Laughter is a very human thing. Also? Tyrants and mean people hate to be laughed at.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I listen to the rain fall and make room to contemplate the joys in my life and to appreciate the things that are working out and going well. “Taking in the good” is a great practice for building lasting resilience and self-soothing in trying times. Finding perspective, and making a point of practicing non-attachment is another useful tool for limiting the likelihood that I’ll become swamped by some moment of despair.

We become what we practice.

I remind myself to also practice kindness, and patience. I’m not alone in being stressed out and frankly horrified by the ugliness being perpetrated by elected, or chosen, bad actors. Bringing compassion and understanding concern to my interactions with others will be helpful, and more likely to have a good outcome than snarling at them in some moment of frustration, fear, or doubt. I mean, for fucks sake the most basic civil rights are under attack. Pretty scary. I remind myself to speak truth to power, to raise my voice, to defend not only my own rights, but the rights of others, too. We’re all in this together.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s already time to begin again. There’s work to be done. Democracy is worth fighting for.

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Categories 2024 Election, Allegories, anger, Anxiety, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being, The Big 5, War and News of War, winter, women

Don’t Panic, Just Change

February 12, 2025 //
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I’m sipping my fairly bad cup of office coffee. It’s not the worst coffee I’ve ever had, and the price is right (“free”, which is to say included in the office overhead and not obvious to me – nothing’s actually “free”). I sigh quietly. I can see the luminous disk of the full moon beyond the window. I turned off the light in this little office so that I can see it more clearly. It’s lovely and peaceful looking.

I take a minute to reflect with love, and considerable respect, on my Traveling Partner. He’s getting past just recovering from injury and surgery, and beginning to think more in terms of fitness and health more generally. He doesn’t panic – he makes the changes he needs to make. There’s something to be learned from this. It’s not an easy thing – there are still verbs involved. The thinking is sound. He brings his intentions and his will together, and does the work required to be the change he wants to make. He often makes such things “look easy”, although I know they aren’t. I’ve seen him grow a lot as a human being over the years, by choosing willful change and getting to work.

I sip my coffee and reflect on the opportunity his choices for change present for me as his partner. I feel a renewed sense of commitment to my own goals, and motivation to pursue change. We’re in this together. We’re each having our own experience. This morning I’m “feeling my years” more than I’d like to. I breathe, exhale, and relax. Piece together the frayed threads of my thoughts “about things, generally”. My head aches, but my back isn’t bothering me much, for now. My tinnitus is mostly drowned out by the sound of the ventilation, and by the way my earring aids amplify that. I pull myself more upright in my office chair, shifting uncomfortably. It’s not a comfortable sort of life, this human experience, is it? I frown briefly and let my thoughts move on.

…For a moment, I think about small mammals: squirrels, chipmunks, sugar gliders, dormice. No idea why. The “cuteness” of them, maybe? Maybe their resilience? They find ways to thrive on very little, in spite of the encroachment of human kind with its chaos and purposeful destruction. I find that interesting – and a little promising.

I let my thoughts wander to old friends, and remind myself to stay in touch. My thoughts wander to Spring, and I feel reassured that more likely than not it will arrive as expected, and it’s not too far off. I think about the seashore, and walking on the warm Atlantic beach with my Granny, or with my Dear Friend along the cold beaches of the Pacific. It’s been so long, but these are beautiful cherished memories worth enjoying now and then, for a moment.

I glare into my half-empty coffee mug. Cold already? Shit. I could sit here being annoyed about that, or I could “do the verbs” and solve the problem. It’s only a choice, a will to act, and an effort to be made. These are simple things. I think again about my Traveling Partner, and his strong will and willingness to act. I sigh, and smile to myself as I get to my feet…

I return to my desk, mug warm in my hand once more. It felt good to walk around, to stand, to stretch. To act. I could honestly just as easily lay down somewhere soft and go right back to sleep, maybe. (I feel that way in the moment, but I know that in practice it isn’t so easy for me to find sleep.) I find it somewhat challenging to find just the right balance between the soft comfort of ease and stillness, and the productive effort of doing and achieving. I’m generally satisfied if I can get all the needful things done without exhausting myself into immobility. I try to “pace myself” through planning and managing my time. My results vary. For now, I enjoy these quiet moments of morning solitude, grateful to have them. Grateful even for this crappy cup of office coffee, although I will admit it doesn’t “taste good” in any definable way – it’s just satisfyingly hot, and delivers an appropriate amount of caffeine for a workday morning. It has the comfort of the routine.

I think about anxiety, stress, and panic, and how much it can matter to slow down, to consider, to choose change, and to act. I breathe, exhale, and relax. This moment right here? It’s fine. I’m okay right now. For now the world within my view is quiet and calm. It’s enough, and I make room to appreciate it and to be grateful. Sometimes changing the world has to start very small, with a handful of choices, and a moment of action. Once this moment passes, what shall I do with the next?

Soon, another sunrise. Soon, I’ll begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being, weight loss secrets, Words