Archives for posts with tag: TBI

The weekend was relaxed and I spent it mostly in a state of general contentment, hoping to get over the latest ick going around, before the few symptoms I was beginning to experience could fully develop. The focus on self-care may have been worthwhile; I’m feeling okay this morning. 🙂 Definitely well-rested.

One last autumn rose in my garden

The foggy autumn mornings became sunny warm-ish afternoons, which then led to orange-glow sunsets that filled my living room with hints of gold. Twilights were chilly, in shades of mauve, deepening to night fairly slowly. Days are shorter. Sunrise comes later. Sunset surprises me by arriving so soon. Seasons change.

I spent the weekend reading. Taking care of myself. Getting enough rest. Bringing order to chaos. Even turning inward now and then, and reflecting on how best to become the woman I most want to be. It was a lovely weekend, well-spent.

I miss my Traveling Partner. I’m still glad I took the weekend for self-care instead of travel. 🙂 Hilariously, I am already looking forward to next weekend; I’ll probably make the down/back round trip, then. 😀

I look around my studio. No spiders. That’s a relief, actually. lol I’m eager to get some things done, artistically. Feeling well-rested also finds me feeling inspired.

This feels like an easy morning to overlook the potential in a new beginning; I could coast on this now, right here, and be content. There’s more to do, though. More to learn. A better human to be than the one I was yesterday. It’s a journey, and as lovely as life is in this moment, right here, there is more living to do in the moments ahead.

It’s time to begin again. 🙂

We become what we practice. I keep saying it. It’s a thing you can learn more about. There are even actual experts in the field of becoming happy. No kidding. Right here. You’ve got this. There are just some verbs involved. A path. Some choices. A lot of practice. A bunch of beginning again. It’s a journey, and the journey itself is the destination.

You don’t have to choose to endure endless relentless misery. You. Yes, you. However bleak things feel in this moment right here, you can choose differently. Your results will vary – and incremental change over time can feel infernally slow, but you can choose to practice practices that improve your experience of life (and self), overtime, and maintain it long term. No kidding. This is real. Doing it. It works.

Maybe read a book? Got an entire reading list for you right here. 🙂 Watch a video? How about this one? (Be sure to also watch the less tongue in cheek follow up, though… 😉 )

You have choices. Maybe you chose poorly some recent day and you’re feeling sort of defeated. even now? Maybe you haven’t yet understood just how much of your misery you are not only choosing, but also working very hard to carefully craft and maintain it? Just begin again – please. Give yourself that chance. Be your own best friend on this one.

Be real with yourself. Be who you are. Be authentic about where you are in your life right now. It’s a place to begin. Now?

Begin again.

Oddly, the title on this one has nothing whatever to do with the content. There’s probably a metaphor in that, somewhere. 😉

I’m sipping my coffee and thinking about breakfast. It’s quite early; I got up at 5:00 am, and on a Saturday morning, many breakfast places that are not of the 24-hour variety aren’t even open. I’ve got time to consider it. Do I even want to spend the money? Leave the house? Make the drive? Do I even know where I’d want to go? When I consider the effort and bother, is it greater or less than the effort to make breakfast at home? (Less, so much less. lol) I spend a contented half hour on Google Maps searching “breakfast near me”, entertained by the fantasy of having breakfast out.

I straight up love breakfast out, and brunch is probably my favorite meal, ever, followed closely by high tea at the other end of a day. Lunch? Lunch is generally a compromised meal, taken hurriedly at my desk, while I work, or grabbed along the way on a weekend day. I rarely sit down for a proper lunch. Dinner? Meh. Dinner can be fancy, simple, elegant, ordinary – all the things – it can be at home or out, just as with breakfast and brunch, obviously, but dinner? It’s grown to bore me, somehow. I do my best with it. I rarely daydream about dinners. lol Thanksgiving. High holidays. That’s where dinner has some appeal for me, generally.

Here it is Saturday morning. I’m awake. I’m hungry. I have no interest in messing up my clean kitchen, or doing so and then having to restore its sparkle. lol I don’t have on hand the sort of things I both enjoy and can easily have, which also support my dietary needs. Well, that’s not entirely the case… I could poach a couple of eggs and rest them tastily on a bed of wilted greens, and eat them with some fresh fruit and hot coffee. Totally a thing I can – and do – have for breakfast, regularly. It’s not what I want. I want the fantasy of breakfast out. lol

We dream of the things that are often just out of reach, whether that’s for always or for the moment may be a matter of circumstance – but it could also be a choice. This morning, I’m definitely in decision-making territory on this one. I could go out to breakfast. Totally could. Is it the wise choice? Mmm… possibly not. As mistakes go, though, it’s not super costly (from this vantage point, before making the possible mistake)… I’d earnestly like to talk myself into it, or out of it, but at any rate, the indecision is beginning to shift from delightful moment of contemplation of a much-loved meal to feeling a tad aggravated with the whole matter; I’m hungry. My blood sugar is probably starting to decline.

Here’s the part of the journey where I have to commit to self-care or foolishness, and either admit that I am not going to care for myself well, or quick fucking about and take care of this fragile vessel! 😀

The fantasy, of course, is an elegant brunch on the order of a feast – seemingly endless choices, exceptionally well-prepared from only the very highest quality ingredients, offered at an honest price – and all at my whim, with an excellent cup of coffee, besides. I get some major mileage out of my daydreams; there is no such meal to be had within miles and miles and miles. LOL I could, however, drive to a restaurant specializing in breakfast, once they open, queue up with all the other folks seeking an exceptional breakfast, deal with the stares and discomfort of being a plump middle-aged woman eating alone, make a careful choice from a limited menu and drink a fairly terrible cup of shitty diner coffee with an otherwise agreeably delicious meal… easy win there. Lots of choices.

Making a choice, even an “easy” one, can be… hard. Too many options. LOL The options are all rather similar. Too little variety. Americans, in general, seem to have a fairly limited palate, actually, and don’t much go for “weird food” (anything that isn’t entirely ordinary and generally fairly bland and familiar), this inevitably limits what is available. Businesses tend to cater to the greatest demand.

I finally get sufficiently frustrated with the entire concept of breakfast or brunch or meals or choices that I smash up a couple hard-boiled eggs in a bowl, microwave them with a drizzle of olive oil, some sea salt and black pepper, with some left over veggies, and eat them contentedly. It’s enough. It is, in fact, sufficient to the point that I lose interest in food entirely for the time being… and just…

…Enjoy the metaphor of a foggy morning – remaking the experience with choices…

…And begin again. There’s an entire day ahead to enjoy. 🙂

I guess, being so close to Halloween, I can’t really bitch too much about a good scare… but… I sure wasted some precious writing time having a wee freak out. lol

I sat down this morning with my coffee, a bit groggy, still waking up… A small white-ish spider scurried from under my laptop and raced along the edge to the desk and disappeared. Ick. Not a fan, really. I don’t suffer from arachnophobia any more, but I also definitely do not want spiders in my immediate personal space, or… on me. Ick. Nope. All the nope.

I was keeping half a wary eye out for that spider to come back. This was not sufficient to prepare me for Spider-geddon, at all. Oh yeah. It was… extra. Definitely more than enough spiders, when that one wee white-ish spider zipping along became what seemed like fucking dozens of wee spiders spilling out from the keyboard tray, just behind/under my actual damned keyboard. No. Nonononononononono. Not any of this. At all. Fucking hell. ICK. Fuck no.

…It wasn’t Spider-geddon because there were spiders and I object to that. No, not really. It was Spider-geddon because of all the murders that immediately ensued as I began my campaign of death against them. Yeah. Straight up. Killed mostly all of them, and wiped their ancestral home from existence. I left no survivors – or so I told myself with grim satisfaction. Yikes.

My morning is interrupted. One last panicked shiver runs up my spine as I wash my hands, after also re-applying a barrier spray where needed. Autumn in Oregon. Showers of spiders. Avalanches of spiders. Corners, crevasses, and dark spaces filled with spiders. So not okay. Stay off my desk, damn.

Weekend project? I’m definitely tidying up my fucking desk!

It’s time to begin again. 😀

Yesterday, I had yet another opportunity to patiently explain to someone that they do not get to tell me what I think, why I think it, or how I came to the conclusion I did. It seems obvious, really; my opinion is mine to decide, and to decide even whether to share it. Attempting to force assumptions about my opinion, or my thoughts, or my feelings, upon me is… fucking dumb. A.) That isn’t how opinions or thinking work. B.) No one likes that shit or needs that from anyone else. Lastly, C.) Fucking hell, people, how hard is it, really, to ask a question and listen to the fucking answer?

It’s an extra special nightmare frustration when that person is a man and his tone is condescending and patronizing. I’m not a child or a little girl, and frankly, on its own maleness does nothing whatever to make any stated opinion or observed fact somehow more relevant, worthwhile, or legitimate, at all. I’m just… yeah. So done with that bullshit. lol I managed to walk on from that interaction without resorting to insults or name-calling, which turns out not to require any sort of heroic effort of any sort, I just reminded myself silently that I had things to do, and that arguing with an ass clown was not on my list today. lol

On and on. Trump didn’t change it – maybe didn’t even “make it worse” – but his presidency pushed it into the forefront (again)(I mean, really, we’ve fought this fight before, and had made a lot of apparent headway, but… no… here we are). Kavanaugh isn’t “new” or novel, or frankly even fucking interesting. Been. Here. Before. Been here all along. Maybe we can all work on this? We can do better. I mean, seriously America? Fucking Nazis? Are you kidding me?

Words matter. Choose them with care. Really listen to people. Really share your authentic actual thoughts with them (versus just quoting some regurgitated sound bite you lifted from a talking head on cable news). Connect for real. Ask the deep questions that matter most. Listen – really listen – to the answers. Put content over bullshit. Show your fellow citizens some “common decency”, consideration, empathy, and respect. Maybe even let “I disagree with that position” be the actual end of a conversation or disagreeable moment, and walk on. You don’t have to persuade or convince everyone that your position is right. Maybe it isn’t. Share it if you care to, then let that shit go, too. Quality of life is not about being right. Great relationships are not built on being right. Contentment and happiness are not made up of moments of being right. Fucking just listen once in a while, and even, now and then, accept that you do not know all of everything… or… just maybe.. in some particular instance… insisting on being right, regardless of perceived factual correctness, maybe be quite the wrong thing to do.

…Then… also… respect both your own expertise, and the expertise of your associates. Ask more questions than you answer. Listen to what you’re hearing, and really be present for that. Learn stuff. Grow. Assume positive intent. Have positive intentions yourself! Be authentically who you are – rightness and wrongness and error, flaws, mistakes, and character failures, and all; we don’t become who we most want to be if we can’t start from who we are right now and move on from there.

What I’m saying is, arguing is dumb. It wastes time, and people who are arguing are not listening to each other. Arguments are made up of people throwing their words at other people who are, at best, throwing words back – without listening at all. It’s ridiculous and gets no further toward truths than standing still quite silently would do, and quite possibly, standing still silently would be more effective. (It probably is, actually…)

Don’t argue.

Don’t yell. (Not really relevant, it’s just super unpleasant, and effective only for escalation the emotionality of the interaction in an unpleasant way; if you’re yelling to make your point, you already lost the argument. Just stop.)

Talk to each other. Really listen. Grow because you are hearing new information – or because you have the wisdom to refuse to incorporate ad copy, memes, or straight up misinformation, in your thinking, in spite of hearing it, again. Ask clarifying questions; there’s always more to know. Get context, and check your assumptions; you’re wrong more often than you realize (I promise you this is true).

People can be really fucking repetitive with shit they pick up along the way that they did not really think through themselves, or apply any critical thinking to, when they adopted it as their own. They cling to that shit. It’s tedious. Don’t follow the crowd. It makes for dull conversation, filled with half-baked bullshit, and actual lies.

Do better. Think your own thoughts. Use critical thinking skills to examine what thoughts you think you have. Check your assumptions for accuracy. Check your expectations to ensure they are shared, and realistic, and not left moldering in a corner all implicit and unverified and shit. Easy stuff. Slow the fuck down and ask yourself some questions about the thoughts you tell yourself are your own. Are they really? Fact-checked, lately, Bruh? Did you make any effort at all to determine whether the words you are about to say reflect who you truly are, consistent with the values you claim you have?

My coffee is tasty this morning. I’m mostly ignoring it. My nightmares were a tad too much “Handmaid’s Tale” for my emotional comfort, and I woke feeling confused, angry, resentful, irritated, puzzled, frightened, restless, and yearning for freedom. The conversation, yesterday, in which some rando man-human specifically told me I don’t think what I do, and can’t because I’m wrong about thinking it, was still grating on my nerves. lol At 55, I fucking well know what my political leanings are, what my philosophy of life is, and where I think my ideas potentially take me in life. I’m pretty over men thinking they have something to say to me about what I think. (Wow. I’m obviously still fucking angry about it, too… and only on this whole meta level as an archetypal conversation repeated over time, not the specific moment and individual. Wild. Why are we still here, at all?)

I grin when I think about the end of that conversation (for me). “I disagree with your position. We have nothing further to discuss.”

Sometimes, I gotta just walk on, and begin again. 🙂