Archives for posts with tag: The Art of Being

Pro-tip: don’t add to your physical pain with your bullshit and baggage. I mean, if you can avoid it, it’s a good choice. This morning, my Traveling Partner offered me a master class in how to refrain from adding additional bullshit to a pain-filled morning. Reflecting on it, I’m pretty impressed.

I woke from a fairly shitty night’s sleep in a lot of pain. He was already up, and also in pain. I wasn’t much in the mood for conversation. That was clearly also the case with him. I got up. I dressed. I got ready to leave (early) for work. We exchanged few words, and a brief kiss, and I was on my way. A short while later, he sent me a message checking in on me, wishing me well, and making a point to alert me he was in pain, and doing his best. I felt pretty cared for, honestly. Neither of us was feeling our best, and the morning got off to a pretty good start without either of us “starting shit” or creating chaos or unpleasantness out of our shitty moment individually, in spite of that.

Sometimes adulting is hard. It’s super easy to take dumb shit personally, or to lash out at someone else over a purely subjective bit of unpleasantness going on for us that doesn’t have to affect anyone else at all, if only we acted with sufficient care. I sit here sipping my coffee, appreciating my Traveling Partner for the effort he makes every day to show me the love he feels… even when he’s “not feeling it”, because all he really feels is physical pain. For sure, he’s as human as anyone. We both are. It’s not always a perfect effort for either of us, and sometimes things go awry in a vexing way, but… not this morning. I enjoyed an easy commute, partly because my heart felt light and I felt loved in spite of being in pain. Hopefully, he does, too. The day begins well.

I got to the office, made coffee, and tackled the payday stuff with a smile. I just went from being a contractor, to being full-time (with the same company) and I’m enjoying the feeling of security, and a sense of being “back on track”. I sit with that awhile, feeling grateful for the “here and now” and grateful for a good partnership to rely on in tough times. It’s enough. More than enough – it’s pretty exceptional (based on my own limited experience).

I sit quietly for a few minutes. It’s awhile yet before daybreak. Still quite early. There’s time to reflect, to meditate, to sip coffee, and watch the night slowly become day. There’s time to begin again. 🙂

I looked up from work and noticed that morning had shifted from the pre-dawn darkness to the post-sunrise shades of a blue-gray Winter morning, the sun hesitantly peeking through the clouds, low on the horizon, reflected in the windows of the condo high-rise across the park. My first cup of coffee is standing cold on my desk, untouched. What the hell? I sat down and immediately went to work without a second thought, or, really, any other thoughts at all – just the work in front of me. An “easy” request for a colleague I’m always eager to help out when asked, and I just got sucked into it. I was immersed in this task quite contentedly for some 90 minutes or so (longer than I expected it to take, but the results are better than required or expected, and I’m pleased with the finished work).

…Cold coffee… better than no coffee…

I stretch, and yawn, and wonder if I should make some oatmeal or something… seems a worthwhile endeavor. I’m hungry. I should do something about that. lol

The commute in was accompanied by a steady driving rain, but traffic was light and it wasn’t a bother. I even enjoyed the time spent in my own thoughts as I made the trip into the city. It felt like time well-spent, in spite of being an absolutely routine commute for work. I sit with that thought for a moment, wondering what makes the difference and can I duplicate that more reliably? Small changes can really matter for the overall feel of a lived experience.

I think about far away friends. I miss them. I find myself simultaneously yearning for their good company, but, also, yearning for more solitude. I definitely don’t get enough of that. It’s a peculiarly difficult puzzle to solve. I think it over and watch the sky shift to a strange muddy sort of pinkish dull gray as the sun continues to rise. Stormy sky. My arthritis says more rain to come. I believe it, seeing this sky.

I finish off this cup of cold coffee and make some notes on the work ahead of me for today. Feels like “just another day” and I’m ready to begin again.

It’s early. I’ve got this moment, and this fresh cup of coffee. In a sense, everything is new and the entire day stretches ahead of me, all potential, untouched by turmoil or hard feelings. I love this time of day; it reminds me how real each new opportunity to begin again really is. I sigh contentedly. I sit quietly, just enjoying the moment without needing to change it at all.

My heart is filled with love, and I’m thinking of my Traveling Partner. I ping a “love note” in the form of a digital “sticker” to him, forgetting for a moment how early it really is. I hope I didn’t wake him… He generally does not take his phone into the bedroom when he retires for the evening, so… it’s probably fine. (I reliably do, and have more than once been wakened because I’d forgotten to silence notifications, or left the stupid thing face up too near to my face.) Yesterday had some difficult moments, but they were illusions born of emotion, in most cases, and the practical details did not need all that drama. Human primates and their messy emotions!

Love is strange and wonderful stuff. Anyone who has ever seen my Traveling Partner and I together recognizes (and often comments on) how obviously in love with each other we are…but… as wonderful as Love is, it doesn’t do much to make someone a better human being than they actually are. We’ve each still got to work on that for ourselves, every day. I’m a deeply flawed human being, marked by trauma, sometimes mired in my chaos and damage, dragging my baggage around with me like I really need that shit close at hand. lol Messy. There’s so much work to becoming the person I most want to be. Putting down the baggage sounds so easy… it isn’t. There are verbs involved. Practices. Study. One might expect cleaning up the chaos and damage would be a relatively procedural matter involving some clear steps and reliable outcomes, but that has not proven to be the case in practice. My results vary. The outcomes often seem to change the path ahead and my understanding of myself changes over time.

I sip my coffee. I feel pretty okay today. I got some sleep last night. I slept until my “alarm” brought the lights up to full brightness. I “finished my dreams” – which nearly always finds me waking feeling that sleep is “completed”. I didn’t stumble or drop anything as I dressed and readied myself for the day. Traffic was light and the commute was an easy one, in spite of the drenching rain that accompanied me along the highway. The day has had a promising start and I feel optimistic. I’m not even in much pain. My tinnitus is relatively mild this morning, mostly fading into the background. My cervicogenic headache is a barely noticeable 2 out of 10 or so on a 1-10, and my occipital neuralgia seems to have – for the moment – diminished. My arthritis isn’t bothering me, today, yet. A good start to the day, feeling good, sipping coffee, and looking out the office windows on the rainy pre-dawn cityscape below me.

My results vary. However easy or difficult the journey, yours will as well. No point taking that personally. I breathe, exhale, relax, and sit here with my coffee and my thoughts. I make shit too difficult, sometimes. I mull that over while I drink my coffee. There’s something to learn there.

I yawn unexpectedly, finish my coffee, and prepare to begin again.

This journey that is “being human” is pretty strange. The path veers and is not always easy to see, regularly obscured by doubt, frustration, or buried ancient fear. Still, this is the life we’re given and the time in which to become. I sip my coffee thinking my thoughts. If I wander as I wonder, please forgive me; I’m very tired, and I’ve got a headache. I’ll do my best to get to my point… if I can. If I have one.

I think the point I’d hoped to make is that my (our?) sometimes frustrated sensation of “never enough” has at least an element of truth to it; we are ceaselessly becoming. We have opportunities to grow, to advance, to change, to do more/better over time than we were once able to do. It’s pretty easy to acknowledge our (my?) plentiful imperfections, and to recognize that we grow and change, but… there’s that irksome sensation of inadequacy, of “never enough” that vexes the soul now and then. Frustration. Disappointment. Sometimes it feels like a win to remind myself that I am worthy, that I am enough… but… from another vantage point, if that were truly the case, why would I constantly be seeking to grow and to become the person I most want to be? I sip my coffee and think that over for awhile.

…I’m so tired…

My hair is soft, resting in loose waves along my neck. I push my glasses back up the bridge of my nose, and run my fingers through the softness of my hair. It feels nice. I sigh out loud in this quiet space and feel the seeming vastness of the solitude, broken by the glow of the monitors in front of me, hinting at life beyond this moment. The big office windows display the park below me, still dressed up in holiday lights. They contrast merrily with the pre-dawn darkness. It’ll be awhile before daybreak arrives. It’s early. I sip my coffee and watch the occasional car make the turns around the park. It takes up one city block, with parking on all sides. At this early hour, there’s not much going on down there, and not much to see. the condo tower on the opposite side of the park has more lights on than usual, and many of those have holiday lights. Pretty. I sit and think, and sip coffee, and breathe. This moment, here? It’s enough. I enjoy it for awhile.

I woke “too early” this morning, and I’ve not had enough sleep, and the sleep I did get was restless and interrupted. My tracker seems to think I managed to get almost 5 hours of sleep, but it was broken up into unsatisfyingly short fragments of the night, the longest of those being just about 3 hours. I’m not in a bad mood, though, and today is off to a better start than yesterday. I keep drinking this coffee. I grab a bottle of water from the beverage cooler and start drinking that, too. I smile to myself, remembering that this new day is filled with all the promise of every new day; it is new. A chance to do more/better, to do differently, to make what matters most the real priority – and to sort out what that is, to me, today.

…A chance to be the person I most want to be…

Yesterday evening my Traveling Partner got super annoyed with me over me being a bad listener. (I’m not going to argue that point, frankly I struggle with interrupting people on this whole other level that goes well beyond “poor listening”, and I continue to work on it – it’s a brain injury thing, nonetheless there is value in doing better.) He was feeling mad and hurt and not heard. I think we mostly worked through that. Along the way he shared two videos with me about listening, both are quite good so I’ll share them here, too (and a couple others I have bookmarked). I think we could all stand to improve on how well we listen, you know?

I keep working on being a good listener. Having a brain injury is a pretty notable stumbling block on this path, but no one said the path would be well-paved, and brightly illuminated, eh? Generally speaking, working on something is easier if you at least know it’s a problem… but… in this instance, I’ve known for ages, and I still struggle. I keep at it. Small incremental changes over time are worth the effort.

I guess that’s the point; there are verbs involved. Results will vary. The value in any given practice is in those small incremental changes, which do add up. There is no “perfection”. Achieve one goal, and there’s another just on the horizon. Another step on the path. More to practice. That “never enough” feeling is annoying, to be sure, and it’s a sign of frustration, and perhaps fatigue. There’s more to self-care than diet and fitness and a good night’s sleep (Although, right about now, a really good night’s sleep would be a win). Learning to be a good listener is an important social skill, worthy of practice. Balancing “all the things” is what eases that “never enough” feeling… because the hours of the day are finite. Life is finite. It’s important to make room for self-care alongside the being and the becoming.

I sip my coffee and yawn. I’ve lost the thread of my thoughts… and it’s already time to begin again.

I’m sipping my coffee and hoping to shake off this relatively shitty mood, soon. I woke early, ahead of my alarm, and started the day with my first interaction being with my Traveling Partner, who isn’t feeling himself (injured, still recovering), and was not in a great mood (also up quite a bit earlier than he wanted or needed to be). The commute was fine. Traffic was relatively light and the drive went by quickly and didn’t make much of an impression on my still-waking-up consciousness. I left too early to grab coffee on the way, and I’ve had to just put up with that until I got to the office. My head aches. My neck aches. My back aches. I’d frankly rather be elsewhere doing something different, right now, but… here I am. It is what it is, and what it is, is… a perfectly ordinary work day. The first of 2024.

I take another sip of my coffee. It’s okay. Not great. Not bad. Just coffee. I remind myself to appreciate that luxury properly; in the state the world is in, generally, there’s no telling when the supply of coffee will be used up, and no more available to “regular people” than mega-yachts are. Coffee is a luxury. In the present day, a mostly affordable luxury (depending on where you buy your beans, I guess). That may not always be the case. A lot of things work out that way. Enjoy the things you enjoy while you have them. Circumstances change.

Over the weekend, I managed to jam a tiny thin piece of PLA filament under my fingernail (left index finger, if that matters), and although I was fortunate not to break it off, I definitely jammed it right into the delicate nailbed and it hurts. Small thing, hardly worth bitching about, but every time my finger strikes a key on the keyboard, I am reminded of it.

…So… Here it is a new year, a new week, a new day… and I’m cross and fussy like a fucking toddler on the edge of a tantrum. I don’t mean to be. I don’t even have any excuse for this bullshit besides being irritable after waking too early and being on the receiving end of my partner’s own crossness. Another sip of coffee… I remind myself I don’t have to let this be the theme of the entire fucking day. I’ve got choices. It’s sometimes quite difficult to choose away from an emotional experience or a state of being, but… it can be done. Doesn’t generally work (for me) to try to suppress it, “wish it away”, or “fake it ’til I make it”, though. “The way out is through” applies here. So, a positive distraction, an opportunity to focus on something else, a healthier more recent interaction with my Traveling Partner… those are the steps on this path. I sip my coffee, take my medication, and take a couple of deep cleansing breaths. I stand and stretch, looking out at the city stretching beyond these windows and “give myself a moment”.

I take my coffee cup and walk from window to window, looking out at the city from different points of view, drinking my coffee and letting my thoughts wander where they will before returning to my desk to write. A glance at the time brings me back to the routine in front of me. It’s already time to begin again. 🙂