Archives for posts with tag: the plan is not the experience
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On Being Adaptable

December 31, 2024 //
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Well, shit. It’s the last day of 2024. Hell of a year. A lot of things changed in 2024 – it was a very eventful year. I’m not going to bother listing all the details, plenty of other people will.

…This morning I woke up ill. lol Just fucking great – not what I planned, obviously – this would have been a routine work day, instead I’m calling out sick, and going back to bed after having some hot tea and quickly looking over my work email for anything urgent (there isn’t anything). I’m having some oatmeal (soothing, sort of, I guess). Annoyingly enough, I’d left my laptop in the office all set up for work this morning – a convenient little luxury now and then (since I usually haul it back and forth between shifts). So… yeah, I had to drive to the office to pick it up. I’m laughing at myself. I’m okay for many values of okay, I’m only ill with whatever local ick is going around right now, and the symptoms prevent me from working comfortably, but it’s not like I’m fucking dying or anything. I’ll be okay, it’s just aggravating.

I sigh to myself, sipping my hot tea between flavorless bites of oatmeal. It could be worse. It’s not Norovirus. It’s not Covid. It’s barely a headcold of some sort or another; I can breathe pretty comfortably. I’ve got a massive (new) headache, and all my joints ache like crazy, and I’m mired in this overall “cellular level” feeling of “don’t give a fuck about any of that” fatigue that will send me back to bed as soon as I have returned home. Still… it could most definitely be ever so much worse.

It’s the end of 2024. Instead of going out with the pop of a champagne cork, I guess it’ll go out with a sneeze and a sniffle, and the sound of me ripping open a new box of tissues. lol

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I sip my tea. I eat my oatmeal. I focus on good self-care, and being careful as I make my way through the moments of the day (my mind is foggy and I’m a bit sluggish, and it’s wise to account for that). Being sick for New Year’s wasn’t part of my plan…but reality doesn’t care about my plans, at all. lol Just gotta roll with the circumstances and do my best. I make room for gratitude, while I also recognize the chills that wash over me. Time to head home, and go back to bed.

…Here’s hoping 2025 is a better year, generally, for everyone, than 2024 has been or so many people…

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Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, health, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Practices, The Art of Being

It’s Not Personal

October 2, 2024 //
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My head is pounding. My ears are ringing. My back aches furiously and I didn’t get enough sleep. I stayed up later than I planned pushing myself harder than I should, getting shit done I had planned to do today, while working from home. I’m sitting at the trailhead now, waiting for the sun, and on the other side of a walk, it’ll be one more work day in the office. I made these changes to give my Traveling Partner a day of chill time without dealing with anyone’s stress but his own, assuming the Anxious Adventurer takes his father’s firm, clear, directive to find something to do elsewhere today as seriously as it was intended.

I’m a bit annoyed about the whole thing, honestly. I manage my planning (and how I get shit done), with a careful eye on my physical and emotional limitations, and my limited energy. All of that went out the fucking window yesterday because the Anxious Adventurer sat around being loud for hours (apparently), preventing my Traveling Partner from being able to relax. It’s not as if my partner can jump in his truck and go for a drive himself right now! Fucking hell the lack of basic awareness and consideration irritate the shit out of me. (Caregiving is hard. Being human is hard.) Yet again, I’m dealing with a hearty helping of unnecessary bullshit and OPD (Other People’s Drama), and it limits my ability to effectively juggle caring for my partner and caring for myself.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I knew going into this that it wasn’t going to be easy. I’m disappointed by how often I find myself doing more work, not less, in spite of an additional adult human being in the household. I reexamine my expectations yet again. I’m so fucking tired and I’m in a stupid amount of unmanaged pain this morning… but the laundry is done. The shopping got handled. I even got to (eventually) spend some chill time with my beloved before I take off for a few days to rest, care for myself, and hopefully recover more than a single day’s worth of emotional resilience.

…Life doesn’t always follow my fucking plan…

The Anxious Adventurer has a good heart, he just also has limited life experience, no experience managing a household or caring for another human being (as far as I know, and based on observation), and hasn’t figured out the basics of who he wants most to be or… basic manners and interpersonal communication. Fuck. You know what I didn’t sign up for? Parenting. Somehow, here we all are. :-/  I’m not any more skilled at basic parenting than I am at caregiving. This shit? Also hard.

… It isn’t personal, it’s just reality…

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I work on letting this shit go, at least enough for my own mental my health. My partner’s limited ability to manage his stress and his reaction to other people’s emotions is frustrating and difficult, however relatable, and is a predictable outcome of the combination of meds he’s been taking for months. I get it; becoming disabled is a difficult experience, and working to taper off some of the medications he’s on is also difficult, and dealing with other people’s bullshit is difficult, and he’s pretty much trapped at home dealing with all of it, all at once, all the time, at least for now. That seriously sucks and I want to help – and I will do a better job of that if I refrain from becoming fused with his experience. I’m having my own as it is. Fuck this shit is complicated and difficult.

Another breath. Another exhalation. I bring myself back to this moment. Daybreak peaks over the horizon, just barely. The morning traffic rushes by on the highway. I sit quietly with my pain, boots on, ready to take a short walk in the dim light of dawn before heading to work. The Anxious Adventurer confirms he is working today; my partner will get some quiet time. It makes the upheaval and aggravation worth enduring. I take my morning medication, grab my cane and my headlamp, and stare into the morning darkness. It’s time to begin again. Already.

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, autumn, breathe, Free Will, Frustration, health, Love, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, The Art of Being, Uncategorized

Lessons and Metaphors

May 20, 2024 //
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This bit of downtime is giving me quite a lot to reflect on. I’ve caught myself chuckling over that more than once, since I got here with plenty upon which to reflect, as it was.

It’s been a lovely day.

I slept badly last night, restless and wakeful, dreaming that I was awake even when I did manage to sleep. I was cold for a long while, in spite of a warm sleeping bag, blankets, and layers. I was too tired to do anything much about the sensation (and I was pretty sure it was mostly in my head). I lay awake, often, thinking about other cold nights in tents. lol Fucking dumb, and pointless. Definitely not helpful.

I finally managed a deep restful sleep after the Party People at the site next to mine stopped drinking and fucking, sometime around midnight. I knew what I could expect when they rolled in: two cars, two couples, one tent and a cooler, no gear, and three shopping bags of grab-n-go snacks, and many six packs of hard cider. lol Based on the coughing and giggling, they were probably also getting high af. Don’t misunderstand me, here, I’m not criticizing the choice to spend a night outside partying with friends. I just found the lack of preparedness for a basic outdoor experience a little funny. And also… they were keeping me awake. lol

…I pause to put more wood on my camp fire…

So many lessons to be learned in one mortal lifetime. I wonder if I will ever get through them all? What does a passing grade look like on life’s final exam? What would it mean to be the best student “in the class”?

I watch the fire crackling away, feeling the heat of the fire and the chill of the evening  depending on which way the wind is blowing. There’s a metaphor there, and something deeper to understand. I  sit with my thoughts awhile.

The edge of the Oregon dunes.

My morning coffee was so good, warming and welcoming, I made three cups before I hit the trail for my morning hike along the lake, to the edge of the dunes. The views were splendid. I am camping in time to see the wild rhododendrons in bloom! I hadn’t expected that. Delightful.

Wild rhododendrons

I’ve pushed myself so hard getting prepared, packed, and getting set up once I got here, I ended up taking it pretty easy today. One mile and a half walk along an easy trail at a very relaxed pace, taking pictures of flowers,  and the rest of the day mostly meditation. I got a bit of the rest I needed in the quiet hours between check-out time and check-in time, napping while the sun warmed the tent. It was wonderful and felt quite luxurious.

I took time to prepare for the rain the forecast says is likely tomorrow… Maybe we’ll get another solar storm and some warmer days instead? (Wishful thinking.)

I sit quietly. Contented, if a bit chilly. I think about adding a sweater and base layers, and making a cup of tea… the journey is the destination – and I’m here, now.

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Categories breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Practices, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, Uncategorized

So It’s Murder, Then?

February 13, 2024 //
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I’m sipping my coffee contentedly and watching daybreak slowly develop from the foggy night.

The fog adds a hint of mystery to a familiar view.

The sky is suddenly filled with bodies; a murder of crows rising from the trees, forming a vast murmuration that swirls betwixt and around the buildings that surround the park just beyond the window. Their cacophony fills the air, and I find myself wondering what they are saying about the morning. It’s a chilly one. Exceptionally cold compared to most Winter mornings this year at 32 degrees Fahrenheit, but still, just barely freezing. I’m comfortable and warm, and grateful for it.

I smile and sip my coffee. I think about words and language and why a flock of crows is called a “murder”? It’s a lovely quiet morning in most respects. It’s a pleasant one, too, and yesterday’s difficulties seem distant and mostly forgotten. Very human. So often whatever is “now” seems mostly to have “always been this way” – it’s a most peculiar cognitive error. I find myself wondering what purpose it serves (or once served a more primitive version of this human experience)?

My calendar is quite full today. I face it without any particular stress. It’s been a week of doctor’s appointments (largely a byproduct of once again having medical coverage through my employer – I’m catching up on things health-wise), but today is free of that “planned chaos”. I sigh quietly. I appreciate myself for having avoided scheduling something into every single day of this week. lol “Way to do the self-care thing properly!” I think to myself, encouragingly. (I’ve been working on taking a kinder tone with myself, and making a point of ensuring my internal monologue is more positive than it has tended to be, historically.)

The sky continues to lighten. The crows have settled into the trees once more – or moved on to parts unknown to do whatever it is that crows do at this hour of the morning. I wonder about that for a moment before moving on, myself.

I run my fingers through my hair and feel the softness of it. The sensation is a pleasant one, but reminds me that I’m overdue to get my hair cut. My bangs are all but gone, and my layers are growing out. lol Funny bit of vanity. I catch myself enthusiastically thinking about getting it cut today, then pull myself back and remind myself of the busy calendar I just reviewed. lol It would not go well for my planning if I squeezed a hair cut into the day – or week. Too much already planned. I think ahead to next week, and chuckle; I’ll likely forget all about it until the week is underway and already planned. It’s just not that important to me. I let it go; it’s something to deal with some other time.

What matters most? I sip my coffee and think ahead to Spring and hiking and camping and getting away out in the trees or on the high desert somewhere under a big sky. When? The weather has been rather mild (locally) this Winter. I wonder when Spring temperatures will be steadily above 50 at night and above 70 in the daytime? I sit thinking about it, eager to begin planning… The time is not now. Not because it’s too soon to plan, but because the sky reminds me that it is a new day. Somewhere beyond the fog the sun has risen, or soon will. The smooth homogenous gray of the sky beyond the windows reminds me that the work day has begun. Planning for another day, another adventure, can wait awhile; it’s already time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Practices, solo hiking, The Art of Being, winter

Results Vary

May 9, 2023 //
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I’m sipping my coffee, a bit groggy at the start of the work day. I spent a portion of the evening swapping messages back and forth with my Traveling Partner. He was out on the road hundreds of miles away. Connectivity wasn’t great, and we’d already had a couple phone calls interrupted mid-sentence due to lack of signal strength. The gist of it all was mostly to do with terrible weather, and a less than ideally fun experience for this shake-down journey to test the gear and how we load it.

…Some things could be improved, and a bunch of stuff did not turn out as planned…

My Traveling Partner arrived home in the wee hours. I got up to welcome him home, greet him, and hear the tales of a traveler. Unexpected flooding, muddy side roads, and poor visibility due to a combination of things, rendered the experience less than ideally fun or satisfying. It made sense to cut it short, make some corrections, and begin again. 😀 I returned to bed after we spent some chill time reconnecting.

…A new day begins…

And so, here I am with this coffee, and falling back on an existing routine, more or less. I’m not vexed by the change of plans. My Traveling Partner understands the relative importance of getting this “me time”, and he’s suggested that he’ll likely give his away time another shot – with a difference selection of trails and camps, and a different direction of travel, perhaps – in just a day or two. I eye my list of things I’d planned to do with my solitary time. Some of it I can as easily do when my partner is at home, it just requires me to make it an actual priority for myself. That’s a healthy exercise, itself. I definitely need more practice putting myself on my own list. lol Over time, my results have varied.

I watch the sun rise through the windows of the co-work space. I’m still groggy. The beams of morning sunlight illuminate the artificial forsythia on this deck, bringing it to life for a time. I sip my coffee and consider beginning again.

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Spring
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