Archives for posts with tag: there are verbs involved

I tossed and turned a bit during the night. My sleep was disturbed by surreal dreams that seemed real enough in the moment to confuse me when I woke. My silent alarm woke me gently, but I woke feeling quite groggy and went through the motions of getting ready for the day feeling a little numb and disoriented. It all ended up pretty routine, anyway. Easy commute into the city. Gray clouds filling a dim pre-dawn sky as I parked. Sparse lights here and there in condo towers as other early risers get things started for another new day.

…I find myself wishing, again, that I weren’t in so much pain…

I make coffee in the office after I get my laptop set up. I catch up on email and pings and look over my day plan. I sip my coffee.

Still feeling sort of foggy and stupid, I step outside to breathe the cool raining morning air for a minute. It doesn’t really change anything, but it is pleasant. That’s enough. I breathe, exhale, relax, and do my best to let go of my steady awareness of my arthritis pain; it’s not helpful to allow it to be the focus of every moment. I stretch, and sigh, and go back into the office. My coffee is tasty and hot and it sort of anchors me to the moment. Stabilizing. Comforting. I think of my Traveling Partner, and hope that he is still sleeping and getting good rest for the work day ahead.

…I kind of want to just go back to bed…

Autumn. Funny season, and my favorite, but as the day length changes with the calendar, and the weather turns rainier, I find myself yearning for long lazy leisure days of morning naps and afternoon coffees, and evenings by the fire. I think ahead to the end of the day, and remind myself to have a soak in the hot tub if it isn’t pouring down rain. Mmmm… that sounds delightful. 😀

The local murder of crows passes between the buildings beyond the window, very near by. I wish I’d had my camera ready for that shot. They settle in the trees in the park below. The sky begins to lighten, reminding me that a new day has started… and it’s time to begin again.

I slept in rather late this morning. I’m having my second coffee in the afternoon, and enjoying it with a bit of brown sugar and a splash of heavy cream (on hand because I’m making corn chowder for our Sunday dinner, later). I stayed up rather later than usual, last night, reading The Fellowship of the Ring and enjoying it mightily. I slept in, sure, waking up almost two hours later than I usually might, then lazing in bed far longer, reading while my Traveling Partner slept in, himself. It was lovely.

More recently, I did a bit of laundry, made a trip to the grocer for ingredients for dinner (including that pint of cream), had a lovely hot shower and did some yoga. Beyond all that, it’s been quite a relaxed day. I’ve luxuriated in simple things, and enjoyed the companionship of my partner. Nothing fancy, only… right now there are many many people in the world beyond these suburban walls who lack even the simplest of conveniences or pleasures. Not only do they not have an emotionally safe relationship in which to thrive, they lack a good book to read, a safe place to read it, or even clean water in which to bath, or to drink. Coffee with cream and sugar? Out of reach for so many people. I sip my coffee grateful for my good-fortune and good life. There were verbs involved in getting here… a lot of complicated choices… but here I am.

…I’m not wealthy. (I don’t yearn for wealth.) I’m not renowned, powerful, or influential. (I don’t seek those elusive burdens.) I’m not surrounded by a crowd of people on the daily. (I’m okay with that; I value my limited solitude, and enjoy my friends and family when we are together.) I don’t have a lofty job title with which to impress. (I don’t seek one; it’s enough to have purpose, to feel appreciated, and to be compensated fairly.) I’m just this one woman, doing my best, and enjoying what is simultaneously a rather ordinary and also extraordinarily fortunate life, rich in experience. Do I have “everything I ever wanted”? Nope. Not achievable; my imagination is vast, but my needs are relatively few. I’m satisfied to pursue contentment. Do I have what I need? That and beyond. It’s a pretty good life. I’ve got a home, a vehicle, a loving partnership, a well-stocked pantry, adequate clothing, modern conveniences… and an understanding of how fleeting all of this may be. I’ll make a point to enjoy and appreciate it while I can. There’s no knowing what the future may truly hold. I guess I’ll see that when I get there. For now… this is my experience. It’s a good one, these days, which is very much worth taking note of.

…When things are good, there’s enormous value in 1. recognizing that and 2. enjoying it.

I sip my coffee, wrapped in contentment and delight. It’s rich and creamy, and warm, with notes of caramel, chocolate, and raisin. Delicious. Oh, make no mistake; brown sugar and heavy cream in hot strongly brewed coffee made from good quality freshly ground beans is my absolute favorite way to drink coffee. It could even be said that this is one of my most favorite single experiences in life… this flavor, this feeling… lovely. I rarely drink my coffee this way, these days. It’s generally black, hot or iced. No frills. Refreshing more than “delicious”. I’ve got my reasons. The turn of the seasons brings my thoughts to the holidays to come, though, and with those thoughts, the yearning for luxuriousness and deliciousness and sensory treats like cream in my coffee and quiet hours with a good book. 🙂 So human. I embrace and enjoy the moment; it’s part of my idea of “enjoying the holiday season”. I don’t care much that I’m a bit early; the Autumn leaves don’t follow the calendar very closely either.

…It’s not too early to begin preparing for the holidays. There are holiday cards to design and to make, and a Yule pudding to mix and steam and begin basting with brandy or Cointreau (I haven’t even picked a recipe yet!), a gift for my Traveling Partner to consider, and for my step-son… there’s a holiday basket to create for dear friends celebrating together elsewhere… and… probably a ton of stuff I’m overlooking that wants doing well in advance of any holiday marked on the calendar. 😀 Time to get started!

On a quiet Autumn Sunday over a good cup of coffee, I’m ready to begin again…

I’m sipping an iced cold brew coffee, and nibbling a breakfast sandwich from the local baker on a foggy Autumn morning. The sounds of the city seemed muffled as I crossed the park from my parked car to the office. The fog wraps the high-rise condos and office buildings in a peculiar disappearing act, and as they rise into the fog they disappear, with only a few lights still twinkling through the mist. The ice in my coffee clinks when I lift the cup and the coffee is bitter and icy, each sip simultaneously refreshing and just a bit perplexing; I am used to drinking hot coffee in the morning, and I have no idea why the change this morning (I just “went with it”). The sandwich is savory, well-made of fresh bread and warm, freshly scrambled eggs. The crunch of the toasted bread is a nice complement to the warmth and softness of the eggs. The hint of salty flavor from the olive tapenade used as a condiment delights me. It’s a very pleasant morning, and it lets me forget for awhile what a fucking trainwreck the world seems to be right now.

…Will humanity even survive itself?…

I smile quietly to myself, feeling incredibly grateful to have a Traveling Partner who understands enough of my trauma history to “get” why it’s a terrible idea for me to read the news (or get tempted into doomscrolling a news feed). He filters the news for me very considerately, finding reliable sources that are very factual and less inclined toward click-bait or emotional provocation, and does a lot to keep “war porn” away from my eyes (and consciousness). I don’t do well if I get mired in despair over faraway battlefields I can’t do anything about, but would still obsess over. I have looked directly into the eyes of War and I have seen too much, too clearly. I have ties to people and places that seem chronically in conflict. I just… can’t. I care too much, and have little influence or power to make real change. All I can do is raise my voice (and vote, with my ballot and my money) and do my own best not to be part of the problem. I send heartfelt kisses his way and hope that he is sleeping deeply and dreaming of wonderful things.

A murder of crows flies past the window and settles into the trees below. Autumn. The sky is beginning to lighten with the arrival of the new day, but it’s a gray and featureless sky this morning, and not very exciting. I still find myself inspired by the fog, the city lights, the towering high-rise condos reaching into the mist… the artist within looks over the analyst’s shoulders; I should paint this weekend. 🙂

I’ve started reading Lord of the Rings. I never have. I once started The Hobbit, but I struggled so much with the author’s writing style I just set it aside and never went back. I’m just a bit embarrassed by that, but… Proust is also waiting for my attention. I’ll get there. lol So far I’m well-into the first book of the trilogy, and enjoying it quite a lot. I smile a silent thank you to my partner again; his fondness for these books is certainly a large part of why I decided to give it another try.

…So… A misty Autumn morning and a new day unfolding ahead of me. Somehow it’s already time to begin again. 🙂

It’s evening. Even the memory of coffee has grown cold. The work day is behind me. I’ve got my feet up and I can hear my Traveling Partner laughing in the other room, probably talking or gaming with his son, online. It’s a “joyful noise”. I could be feeling pretty mellow, contented, and even merry right about now… but… I just hurt.

…I’m doing my best…

I’ve done what I can for pain management. I’m even managing not to weep, though tears threaten to fall at any minute. I managed to cook an evening meal. I managed to get through some work tasks I had committed to for my partner. I put in more effort than I expected I could. Now what’s left over is just the pain. It’s “just” my osteo-arthritis. It’s the time of year when I reliably wince and grumble about how it seems so much worse than I remember (it probably isn’t). There’s no yardstick or set of calipers for measuring pain. It’s very subjective. So. I hurt. I’d say… 7 out of 10? I’m definitely at “fuck-off-I-just-hurt-too-much-for-this”, for sure. I breathe. Exhale. Sort of relax. It doesn’t feel better to do that, just reminds me that I hurt from a different angle.

Soon I can make excuses and go to bed without feeling like… I don’t know. Like someone who goes to bed too early? I sigh out loud and feel stupid.

…I recently got excited to actually read Lord of the Rings. I never have, which is just the tiniest bit embarassing. Didn’t care for Tolkien’s writing style in high school. More of a Heinlein fan, myself, and a big reader of non-fiction, as well. I think I have tended toward lighter, “easier”, faster-paced fare as stories go… The works of Robert Heinlein… The Chronicles of Amber… The Elric Saga… The Chronicles of Thomas Covenant… Right now, though, I just hurt. 😦 I hurt so much I don’t even feel like reading. Crazy. I’m not tired either… well, not sleepy.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck… fuck pain.

I just want to begin again.

I’m sipping lukewarm too-strong less than ideally good office coffee and looking out the windows onto a rainy day, in Autumn, in “the city”. It could be any city. There are trees along the sidewalks, green summer foliage has begun turning to shades of gold, amber, and red. The soggy gray sky obscures the distant hills and creates silvery featureless reflections on office buildings beyond the windows. I’m thinking about life – and how fortunate I am – and how peculiar it is to be so contented, generally, when my actual life is so very different than what I once thought I wanted from it. Very strange.

A rainy autumn day suitable for thinking thoughts.

The day begins rather slowly for a Monday. It’ll be busier as the day progresses. I use the time to get my thoughts sorted out, and my week planned. There’s much to do, but a significant portion of the doing rests on good planning, and awareness of projects already in progress; rushing through the “thought work” has proven to be a poor choice on more than one occasion. I take my time with it. I think things through. I take notes, and review other notes. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I drink my coffee.

Past tense. Autumn colors. Memories like fallen leaves.

Funny how what we think we want doesn’t always turn out to be what we actually wanted, at all. Funny how things that are in the past become something more than mere memories, over time, taking on stature far beyond whatever humble object or event they represent. I find myself thinking about the past, and wondering how I got from there to here… “Here” isn’t where I expected to be, honestly.

…There are conversations I wish I could have with my Dad, my Mom, with Granny…

I sip my coffee contentedly. The day and week stretch ahead of me. My Traveling Partner is at home, working. I’m in the office, working. I’m thinking about life and love, and smiling at the raindrops spattering the grand windows that seem display the city for my view alone in this quiet space. It’s enough. I guess I’m just puzzled about how this can feel so good, so safe, so satisfying… and still find myself vulnerable to the chaos and damage that still linger, and sometimes take me by surprise. I’m fortunate to have come so far. It’s taken time and a lot of verbs and considerable effort and the will to just keep at it… again and again, failure after failure, frustration after frustration… but I am here. This is now. I’m okay with it. More than that… I may even be… happy. At least in this moment. That’s enough.

Eventually, I’ll have to begin again. For now, I’ll just enjoy this moment, right here. 🙂