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A Slower Pace

September 20, 2019 //
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I took some time off. I needed the break from routine, and even from distractions. I just needed some real rest. 🙂 For some reason, I haven’t been sleeping more than 4-5 hours a night, with rare exceptions, for weeks. I was losing the ability to easily keep track of details, and reminders were becoming a necessity on a whole other rather critical level that feels uncomfortable – and sometimes “weak”.

…So… time off? Yep. That’s the plan. It’s also been uncomfortable to manage the day-to-day distractions; my brain is so used to be busy at maximum intensity that not only is my sleep disturbed by it, but also, my every waking moment I also seem to be racing to grasp the next distraction – no time to waste! Hurry! See that?!? What’s that?! And that over there – do I know what that is?? Have I read that article? Am I up-to-date on this new crisis? Have I overlooked a detail? What am I forgetting!?? Distracted and pressed for time have been becoming my default settings – which is neither helpful, nor healthy. So. Definitely some time off, but also… some down time. Properly taking time – real, slow, committed, undistracted time – for myself. To slow down. To unwind. To listen to the breeze, and the sound of raindrops pattering on the deck… for hours. Put down the email. Turn off the tv. Cease the ceaseless conversation – for at least a little while.

Brunch with a friend, perhaps…? Thanks, no, I’m “busy” not doing that, for a couple days.

Want to go to this movie…? Um, no, I can catch it streaming at home, some other time.

What about work email?! Don’t want to fall behind on… Yeah, no. I’m explicitly turning work off for 4 days. Off. Completely off.

Well, but there’s this thing you’ve just got to see/do/experience… Nope. I’m good, thanks. It’ll be there later on, or… not. No “FOMO” here; I am focusing the quality of the life I have right now, just as it is. 🙂 It’s enough.

So, yeah. I haven’t been posting anything to Instagram (the only social media account I still have). I haven’t been “staying caught up” on my email, or the news, or the latest whatever that folks are wound up about. I’m just chilling at home with my Traveling Partner, gently, joyfully, calmly. It’s nice. Pleasant. Relaxed – and relaxing. Most of yesterday was spent in defiance of the busy-ness of the days prior to that; we hung out, listening to music, enjoying our morning coffee together, whiling away the hours content in each other’s good company, without any other agenda. Super chill. I don’t know how I could have spent the first day of this long chill weekend any better than that. I even managed to sleep in, yesterday. The entire day was spent present, aware, connected, and enjoying each moment without feeling any need to race “productively” to the next.

This morning, a new day begins. I’m awake earlier. A vague sensation that I’d meant to do something specific today nags at me, but I’ve reviewed the budget (it’s a payday, so that’s a thing I do), took a look at upcoming bills, and accounted for expenses we’d discussed being part of this pay cycle, before moving on. I guess maybe I mean to go grocery shopping, and since I’m sitting here drinking coffee, the lurking desire to also shop feels like a weight on my consciousness… damn, I’ve needed a proper break.

So, yeah… that’s what I’m up to, right now, taking care of myself and this fragile mortal vessel, by getting some down time. Maybe I write… maybe I don’t. I recommend it. 😉

It’s time to begin again… gently. 🙂

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Sleepless Nights, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5

Raindrops and Coffee

September 15, 2019 //
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I woke to the sound of rain. It’s the sort of steady rain of well-separated medium-sized raindrops that keeps the pavement looking soaked, and the air smelling fresh, without every becoming a downpour. I made coffee, standing at the kitchen window, staring out past the driveway to the street beyond, not really watching the cars go by, still half-wrapped in sleep, not quite awake, yet. I’d considered sitting down and reading some news articles while I waited for water to boil (I like a “pour over” in the morning)… decided it against it, after glancing at headlines. I am not ready for the cesspool that is “newsworthy” humanity, before my coffee. lol

California was more or less “as advertised”, generally in a pleasant way.

I got home far more easily, with fewer moments of stress, and a much more enjoyable (quiet) flight. I wondered later if time of day was something to have considered when I made the plans (the unpleasant flight to LAX was late afternoon, getting me there by 6:30 pm, the flight home to PDX departed from LAX at close to 8:00 pm, and we did not land until well-past 10:00 pm)? There were no chatterboxes or fussy children on the flight home; it was filled with quieter people, traveling purposefully, and keeping to themselves. I chuckle to myself as I read back these past couple of sentences; how much of my experience was actually just… me? Something to consider, too.

I missed my roses while I was away.

My homecoming was pleasant, relaxed, easy; we missed each other, we welcome each other with open arms, and smiles, with appreciation, and gratitude. Friday was very busy, and I’d forgotten to grab the power cord for my laptop when I returned to the hotel Thursday evening. The low battery, and the need to pack with care before work that morning, resulted in letting go my usual “best time” to write. Yesterday? Yesterday was mine to cherish, a sweet day of leisure and romance with my Traveling Partner, time to catch up, time to enjoy each other, time to spend together. I didn’t write, yesterday, because it is most definitely a solitary activity that takes my presence away from my partner’s experience, and on a day we choose for deliberately enjoying each other, sharing our time, our love, and our presence, that would be sort of rude, wouldn’t it? 🙂

…It feels like life is settling into a useful cadence of work and life and love, as the months together go by. Was it January he moved in with me? Or December, before the Yule holidays? I don’t remember now; it feels as if we’ve never been separated by different addresses, at all. 🙂

I arrived home to a lovely, tidy, welcoming, orderly, aesthetically pleasing home that very much looks like I live here. That makes sense – I do. 😀 I very much appreciate that I have my partners help with all the housekeeping and household maintenance – it makes for a wonderful shared experience. I notice a few things that are “better than I left it”, and remind myself to level up to better household care, on those tasks, myself. When everyone works, and the work is shared such that each person is valued, the quantity of work is equitable, and the effort is reciprocal, there is no room for resentment, or hurt feelings, over housework. 😀

Signs of autumn approaching begin to turn up in the garden on the deck…and also, a baby praying mantis or two, that have survived long enough to be easily noticed.

Another lovely day begins right here, listening to the rain fall. I feel like walking, although my arthritis flared up with the coming of the rain. I consider the day ahead… visit a nearby farmer’s market… run an errand or two, perhaps… get ready for the work week ahead… It’s an ordinary enough Sunday, pleasant, and relaxed. These are the qualities I am choosing, and choosing to foster, to build, to nurture, to act upon. Beginning again is a willful thing, a considered, deliberate reset, not merely the tick of a clock from one moment to the next; there are choices to make, and verbs to act upon. 🙂 My results may vary…

…None of that stops me; it’s still time to begin again. 🙂

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, Healthy Living, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Parables, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Roses, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5

Complimentary PITA

September 11, 2019 //
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Same routine, different location – at least for this morning bit – and I’m okay with that. 🙂 My coffee is still too hot to even sip on, and made in a peculiar molded plastic drip contraption of some utterly ordinary sort. I don’t expect much of it, and I’m considering walking down the corridor to the ice machine to cool it down more quickly, just because ice is readily available…and I really want a cup of coffee, without having to see any people, yet. lol

Air travel has some uncomfortable moments for me. It wasn’t the seating on the aircraft that was the problem. It wasn’t the line to go through security. It was just… all the people. By far too many. All talking. Many grousing about absolute bullshit (much as I am right now, but a lot less of me, and a whole lot more of them. lol) I’m just saying; it was a bit much. The roughest bit was the high-pitched, fast-paced, near-continuous, over-sharing, stream of consciousness from a very insecure-seeming young woman who latched onto anyone near her and just… downloaded. Total brain dump. Unfortunately, seated just behind me on the aircraft, after having to deal with the noise and overshare in the seating area at the gate as well. Loathsome creature. Oh, sure, just one of many human beings, and ordinary enough, I’m sure. Just… fuuuuuuuuck. I did not really need that.

Seated on the plane, I expected things would quiet down. The talking woman never stopped. There was that. A man in a seat ahead of me decided to occupy his time with  video game. A combat first-person shooter. The entire flight. With the volume up, no head phones. (Seriously??) O…M…G… “Complimentary PITA” (pains in the ass) served generously.

…Earplugs for the win.

Getting to the hotel looked like the easy part. I had set my expectations too high, and further, made assumptions that were incorrect. I was nearly in tears by the time I located my ride-share driver (and I assure you, I had to find him, not the other way round), exhausted, cranky from traveling without being medicated (hard to find a smoking area, especially once I was cleared through security, and I was traveling without any cannabis on me), blood sugar low, ankle screaming at me to get off my feet… I was so relieved just to finally be in a car and headed to the hotel, I almost didn’t take a moment to appreciate that in spite of all the stressors, I never snarled at anyone, never actually wept, never broke down. 😀 I sat back in the seat, took a breath, and looked around…

…So this is Los Angeles, huh? It’s very… busy.

The hotel room is a hotel room. Clean. This one is even quiet. I even (mostly) slept through the night… sort of. Weird ambient light from smoke detectors and whatnot coming from different locations and angles relative to my sleeping self resulted in some restlessness. The bed is comfortable, the linens clean, but it feels unfamiliar, and sleep was difficult in spite of my fatigue. The nearest smoking area, where I can vape, is a long corridor away from the elevator, 3 floors down, and about half a city block walk from the front entrance of the hotel. lol I’ll get some exercise, just getting a quick vape. LOL I’m settled in for a couple days, though… and I’m reasonably comfortable. It’s enough.

I crashed early… then couldn’t sleep. I read awhile, until sleep caught up with me, and the alarm went off too soon. Suddenly, it’s time to begin again, there’s a day ahead of me, I’m surrounded by the vastness of busy-ness that Los Angeles… and… I guess all that’s quite okay. 🙂 All my temptingly ambitious plans about time between working hours have dissipated like dreams – I’ll be content to stay on top of my self-care, and enjoy my work gently. I hope to return home in good spirits, feeling well-cared-for and accomplished. Nothing fancy, nothing broken. 🙂

…I have yet to see the dawn. 🙂 It’s definitely time to begin again. 😀

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Categories Anxiety, Brain Injury, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5

Good Mornings and Good-Bye’s

September 10, 2019 //
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It was a fairly ordinary morning…other than the luggage. I kissed my sleeping Traveling Partner good-bye before I left the house, feeling rather peculiarly, and unexpectedly, reluctant to go. Nah, I’m not worried about the trip; it’s routine. Just work stuff. Things to do that are easier there than here.

…I got all the way to the office before I noticed I forgot to bring my lunch, a generous slice of a hearty, delicious homemade frittata I had made for dinner last night. I was looking forward to it, too; better the second day, it was just that kind of goodness. 😀 I laugh at myself and wonder what else I will forget? Hopefully not my laptop. LOL

It’s all work from this point out, until I return home late on Friday evening. I mean… I’m traveling for work. The hotel is just a place to sleep, really, and I’ve certainly got enough to do to fill all three days. lol I brought a book, of course. In fact, I brought a hard bound book, and my Kindle. I brought a bound journal for personal writing and self-reflection. I brought a notebook for work notes. I remembered chargers for devices, batteries for my vape, and a power brick. I remembered e-juice for vaping. I remembered socks, toothpaste, hair ties, and medication. So far, so good. I’ve got digital boarding passes, and my hotel reservation is saved to my phone. I feel… prepared. In fact, I feel prepared to the point that I’d probably be fine if I were stranded in any urban wilderness… less well prepared were I to suddenly drop into a proper wilderness-wilderness… you know, out in the wilderness. LOL Yeah… I left all the camping gear behind. 🙂

The tender, somewhat awkward, moment of conversation last night about “what if?” alerted me I am not all that well-prepared for certain other very adult circumstances. I need to update my will. I haven’t clearly and simply documented where things are, and what to do, in the event of my unexpected death…and… I gotta say, that strikes me now as fairly stupid of me. I’m 56. People die at 56 all the fucking time. I’d rather not leave behind someone dear to me to grieve while also desperately trying to figure out who to call about insurance, or where my will is located, or what utilities need to be changed over from my name to another, or… you know. Lots of details that I handle without a second thought these days, pleased to be so skillfully able to care for the day-to-day basics, reliably. It would be a dick move to fail to support my partnership with loving care and meticulous detail – since I know in advance that I’m mortal. So. There’s that to think about. 0_o

The day ahead seems… long. The plane ride will be a short one. Then… the strange solitude of a hotel room. Time for meditation, and a chance to get oriented in a new place. I don’t know what to expect… I’ll be close to the airport. Close to the beach. Close to the office. The map shows a crowded city, filled with human lives and human experiences, crowded with people, with buildings, with circumstances. I’m not interested in much of any of that. I’ll enjoy the chance to connect with some cherished colleagues with whom I am friendly; we don’t see each other “irl” very often. I’ll get some work done for which I have considerable enthusiasm – and that’s really the point of going.

…I already miss my Traveling Partner, and I haven’t even left town yet. LOL I know when he wakes, he’ll miss me, too. The days will creep or fly by – either way, the time will pass, and I’ll be happy to return home. Properly home. This shared place of ours that feels so good. Our partnership – and affection for each other – continues to deepen over time. Thinking about his smile, his rude jokes, his fun, and the warmth of his arms around me, I feel wrapped in love – and very fortunate.

My eye travels over my desk… what else am I forgetting… anything…? It’s time to begin again…

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Categories Brain Injury, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5, Uncategorized

The Damage Is Done

September 9, 2019 //
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For awhile now, I’ve just been sitting here, staring at my monitor. It’s not quite 3:30 a.m., now. My heart is still pounding, and my hands are trembling. There’s nothing actually wrong; I woke up triggered, around 2:50 a.m.,  and I’m fighting off both confusion (from being groggy) and panic. It’s not personal, and it’s unlikely that any detail of waking me into this state was intentional, at all. I’m awake, though, and sleep won’t return in the short time left before my alarm would go off, so… I’m beginning again, a bit early, is all.

“Purple Tiger” blooming on the deck. Life is filled with small delights.

…Just yesterday, I was relaxing and giving thought to how content I am, how lovely life is, how comfortable I feel in my own skin day-to-day, and how fortunate I am to have the healthy relationships that I do. The contrast with my internal state this morning is a useful reminder that emotional wellness is built over time, and that taking it for granted is not an ideal approach to maintaining it. The phrase “the damage is done” seems fitting here. I can heal a lot of chaos and damage, over time, and doing so is a pretty extraordinary quality of life improvement, in general. What I can’t do is change what I’ve been through, or eliminate the trauma in my history, and even now, sometimes it “comes back to me” in a problematic way. I still have disturbed sleep. I still have some uncomfortable moments. I still don’t “bounce back” as easily from some emotional experiences as someone else might. “Much improved” still doesn’t mean “forever and always symptom free”.

Early hints of autumn approaching have turned up in the garden.

What a great weekend; in spite of both my partner and I being in considerable pain, we had a great time together. A local power outage ended our evening, last night. It didn’t seem necessary to stay up until power came back on. Rather unfortunately, I went to bed without really considering which lights had been on, when the power went out. I woke abruptly to bright light (when the power came back on?), confused, startled, and frightened. My Traveling Partner was up, apparently trying to make sense of whatever mess the bed linens were in, also awakened by the return of power, but at the time I was trapped in my confusion, and still startled, and I felt “trapped” in the room, and my panic started to build, quickly. I was on my way to a serious over-reaction, and chose simply to go ahead and get up, instead, hoping that pushing myself through regular morning routines would soothe me quickly, and help to calm my nerves. I was not clear on what time it actually was, in that moment.

I started coffee and dressed myself, still sort of bumbling around clumsily, not yet fully awake or entirely calmed, and doing my best to stay focused and present in this “now” moment. My heart was still hammering away in my chest, and I was feeling short of breath. My partner approached me, and asked “aren’t you coming back to bed?” I felt my jaw clench and un-clench, working to shape words that fit. I tried “the way I woke up… I won’t go back to sleep, now”. I felt self-conscious, and dreading that anything I said could “make things worse” (What things? More chaos and damage – that hell was a long time ago, in a very different relationship.) I did what I could to explain that I woke triggered without placing any blame; my PTSD isn’t something my Traveling Partner caused, and there is no circumstance under which he would trigger my symptoms deliberately. Nothing personal in any of it. I felt tears start. Neither of us reacted to that; we’re experienced with emotionality as a shitty byproduct of my chaos and damage. I turned toward my studio. He went back to bed.

One of the most horrible things about PTSD is how often there is a negative consequence to people who love us, who didn’t do the damage that made us who we are, but so often find themselves paying a pretty high price to love  us, anyway. Spectacularly unfair. I try to be considerate about that sort of thing, when I can hang on to the presence of mind it takes to do so. :-\

Meditation continues to be a key practice supporting my emotional wellness.

…It’s just two minutes shy of 4:00 a.m. now. I’m not shaking any more. My heart rate is back down to 62 bpm. My breathing feels relaxed. I feel calm. I could probably go back to sleep now, if I chose to… but the alarm would go off in 30 minutes, and I’d likely wake groggier and less well-rested feeling than I am now. I sip my coffee, and rub the sleep out of my eyes, and hope the day ahead is not an overly complicated one. I feel my anxiety surge in the background. Small things are likely to set me off today; it’ll need to be managed attentively, compassionately, and with a commitment to caring for myself skillfully. I breathe. Exhale. Relax. I set a couple reminders on my work calendar to take 10 minutes to meditate during the day. Each moment today may be a needed chance to begin again; that has to be okay with me, to really get this handled well. I feel my shoulders relax. “I’ve got this…” The reassurance swells from within myself, built on experience. That feels pretty good – solid, and reliable. Safe.

I give thought to my Traveling Partner, and hope that he has returned to a deep and untroubled sleep, and wakes well-rested. I finish my coffee, and prepare to face a new day. It’s a good time to begin again. 🙂

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Categories Anxiety, Brain Injury, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5
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