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So…Human

March 21, 2024 //
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I’m taking an afternoon break. I pretty much had to; my brain started shutting down. I found myself staring intently into the distance without seeing anything, just sort of attracted to the light. My mind was still – too still – and my thoughts were vacant abstractions and vague ruminations. “Cognitive fatigue”. I recognize it when I feel it. I got up, stretched, moved around some. Drank some water. Made a cup of tea, which sits here, half-consumed though I don’t recall actually drinking any of it. I feel… disconnected. Disengaged. Something like, but not quite, sleepy…

…Fucking hell, I’ve got shit to do… don’t I? I sigh outloud. (I sound frustrated and impatient with myself.) I have been trying to “shake it off” for some minutes, now. I suppose I could “give in to it” and lay down on the couch in the lounge space of the office, where I’m working today, only… I already know I would not sleep, even a little. I’m not actually “sleepy”. My mind is tired, yes. My body? Not so much. Hell, I went to bed early last night, slept more or less through the night, woke mostly pretty well-rested (although rather groggy)… what the hell is this shit?? “I don’t have time for this!” I protest internally, knowing it won’t do any real good… that’s not how one overcomes fatigue. lol

…I try taking a short walk and getting some fresh air…

This has been a peculiarly intense work week. Not bad, and for sure I’ve gotten a lot done, and most of that well-ahead of required timing or deadlines. Nice problem to have, I guess. There are no holidays with long weekends in March. None in April on our work calendar, either… Memorial Day in May feels a long time away, and I find myself wondering if it is time to go camping, or head to the coast for a couple days of quiet time reading, writing, and walking the beach…? I know my Traveling Partner is super bored at home, as he continues his recovery; he’s finally starting to feel more himself as his injury heals, and this will soon mean he doesn’t need as much help from me on day-to-day basics supporting him. Am I just… tired? It’s a lot to handle, and he’s incredibly kind and gracious and careful not to overburden me (I’ve got limitations of my own) – but it’s not likely to be a surprise if I’m just hitting a “stall point” from fatigue building up over time. I find myself thinking “when was my last getaway…?” and realizing it has only been a handful of days, really; I went down the coast to visit my dear friend before she died…

…Suddenly the tears start to fall…

Okay, so I’ve failed to account for the emotional fatigue of also managing grief in the mix of all of everything else, I guess? I kind of feel like I’m mostly sort of “over it”… more or less… mostly… but… that isn’t really how grief or grieving works, is it? The tears are just steady falling at this point, and I just fucking let them. My dear friend – one of my dearest, and for such a very long time – deserves every honest tear I shed in her memory. So human. What else can I possibly offer her now?

…Definitely just straight up crying now…

…This almost feels hormonal…

…Fuck I’m just so g’damned tired “lately”… (how much “lately”? I don’t even know, maybe just today…)

…But what do I need from me…? Well, shit. I actually just don’t know, and can’t seem to kick my brain back into gear, and now I’m dealing with tears, too. So I do what I can – what I have to get done to finish the day. One task at a time, with care and consideration, after taking a healthy break, walking around the block, breathing some fresh air, drinking some clean cold water and a nice cup of tea… “Soon enough it’ll all be over,” I think to myself, then when I’m struck by how grim and final that actually sounds, I break up laughing out loud, tears still falling. I probably look like a hysterical madwoman, right about now, and I don’t even care – it’s just a very human moment. I’m tired. At least I’m fucking laughing, though… That’ll have to be enough, until I begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, grief, health, Healthy Living, Hormone Hell, loneliness, Love, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, Spring, The Art of Being

Sometimes All You Get Is The Sunrise

December 17, 2023 //
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I’m sitting in my car, waiting for the sunrise to illuminate the trail, preferring not to walk it in the dark. I slept poorly, completely pwnd by my nightmares. My head aches ferociously and I feel as if I am stressed to a breaking point in spite of so recently having a few days away. I find myself on the edge of tears over and over again, and awash in vague feelings of frustration. It’s shitty.

I breathe. Exhale. Regain a sense of calm. Then I lose it again. The experience is very much as if I am completely “disregulated” for some reason. My thoughts come back to this fucking headache. Going on 9 years, in January. No relief. No diagnosis that feels trustworthy or useful. I’m still here, though, that’s something. For now it has to be enough.

The beginning of a sunrise.

My Traveling Partner pings me a greeting. He’s up early. His injured condition is vexing and worrisome for both of us. Worse for him, obviously, living with it. The visit to the ER earlier this week seemed somewhat reassuring but the feeling hasn’t lasted and he’s struggling more than seems reasonable. No doubt this is weighing more heavily on my heart and mind than I was prepared for.

The sun begins to rise and the horizon is on fire with intense reds and oranges, and a hint of pink. It’s gorgeous. I sit watching it evolve over some minutes, half an eye on the trailhead. Soon the path will be light enough to walk quite safely.

I try to let the sunrise be enough. The tears start falling. I let them. I don’t really know what else to do with tears. Right now is hard. Sometimes that’s how things are. The world seems like a pretty terrible heartless place right now, which adds to the feeling of senselessness, futility, and frustration. Subjectively, I feel very alone and ineffective, powerless to prevent this mortal vessel from breaking down, powerless to help my partner, powerless to help my dearest friend. Powerless to change the world. Mortality comes for us all, and these fucking meat suits are more fragile than they seemed in younger years. Fuck.

I cry awhile, sitting here alone, watching the sun rise. Sometimes a sunrise is all we get. Sometimes it has to be enough. I sigh and wipe the tears off my face before I get out of the car to walk this favorite trail. It’s time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, Free Will, Frustration, grief, health, loneliness, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, The Art of Being, turning 60

Strange Dream

October 21, 2023 //
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I had a most peculiar dream last night.

I was walking a dark trail before dawn on a foggy misty morning and came upon a solitary woman, also walking. As she approached me in the mist, I recognized her stride and her visage; she appeared to me to be some timeless other version of myself. She walked easily, neither young nor aged. Her steps were as confident as if it were fully daylight, relaxed and easy. She wore faded denim jeans that fit her well , and a knee length wool coat which she wore open, over a white cotton blouse. She wasn’t lean or heavyset, but wore womanly curves over muscle I knew must be there; she radiated strength. In fact, she had a subtle glow, as if illuminated from within.

As we approached each other on the path she looked me over. No laugh lines defined her expression, no frown lines distorted her gaze. She had a certain eternal seeming calm, marred by a slightly world-weary smile, barely hinted at, and a tired look in her eyes. She halted her progress and took an easy seat on a fence rail as I neared her, watching me.

As I drew closer, I realized she was carrying a thermos of something steaming hot, though I hadn’t seen it in her hand before. She nodded at me and extended the other hand in my direction; a paper coffee cup. “Coffee?” She asked in a voice very much familiar to me. I accepted the offer silently. It didn’t seem the time to speak.

We sat side by side on the fence rail in the predawn mist. She set down the thermos, or so I figured must have been the case, and began picking out a poignant tune on a guitar I hadn’t noticed her carrying. “Destination”, I said. “You know it?”, she asked without looking up. “The Church”, I replied, “1988?” I wondered out loud. She smiled back and played on, humming softly as if trying to remember something. “… It’s not a religion, it’s just a technique…” she sang, softly, looking into my eyes. She played on, as we sat waiting for the dawn.

The song, and my memories, unfolded as the sky began to lighten ever so slightly. Shapes in the mist began to be more defined. “It’s like the theme from Mahogany, isn’t it?” she asked with a smile, “an important question wants an answer.” I turned to answer her…

In the pale gray mist of dawn, I sat alone on a fence rail, chilly fingers jammed into the pockets of my faded denim jeans. The world was silent around me. I listened to the music in my head and slow tears slid down my face.

I woke from a sound sleep and my strange dream when the room brightened with my silent alarm. It was morning. Not yet dawn. I dressed and headed out for a walk on a misty foggy morning, without a clear destination, alone with my thoughts. .

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, grief, Metaphors, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, solo hiking, Uncategorized

On Being Human

February 26, 2020 //
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Yesterday was… interesting. Yeah, but… not in that “wow, what a day!” sort of interesting day, filled with unexpected delight. Nope. Just… “interesting”. Human. It started delightfully enough, with shared coffee with my Traveling Partner. A chill, connected, contented, moment together is a wonderful start to a work day. The work itself was busy, and largely satisfying. Definitely within my abilities. The commute – either way – wasn’t particularly bad, but it is there, in those vehicular moments that I began to take note of how interesting this human experience so often is. It was in the peculiar, occasionally wholly inexplicable, decision-making of other drivers on the road… quite a few “wtf?” moments out there on the city streets. (Drive safely – surely someone would like you to arrive at your destination free of injury?)

So…work. Then home. I made dinner. It was good, satisfying, maybe a bit much… still. Dinner, made at home, enjoyed in the company of my Traveling Partner. It was a pleasant evening.

I found myself exceedingly drowsy after dinner, and figured I’d “lay down for a minute” – plenty of time, it was fairly early, and my partner was engaged in a game, and likely would be until a bit later. We had plans to share some favorite content, a couple hours later on, so… a nap? Sure, why not? Probably wouldn’t actually sleep…

…My partner woke me in time for the show we had planned to watch. We watched it. I pretty much just went back to bed after it ended…

Painful stomach cramps woke me. Sometimes the awkward challenges and discomfort of this human form are worse than inconvenient. I got up after sweating a few restless uncomfortable minutes, expecting that tummy trouble might signal being sick. Yeah… symptoms at both ends kept me up awhile longer. Unpleasant. Fairly gross. Very human. I got back too sleep after the worst of it… um… “passed”. (lol) I even slept well. The morning, this morning, feels very routine in most respects… and rather less “interesting”, so far.

Ups. Downs. Twists. Changes. Success. Failure. Progress. Setbacks. Fair weather. Foul weather. Illness. Health. Romance. Heartbreak. So much human experience to cram into a single lifetime, that we routinely express such things as simple dichotomies – opposites on a gradient we generally ignore. Easier that way, isn’t it?

I smile and sip my coffee. It’s a good morning to begin again. 🙂

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, Free Will, gratitude, health, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, The Art of Being

What Was That About?

October 14, 2016 //
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I crashed soon after arriving home last night, but still much later than I generally intend to on a work night. I was sound asleep soon after that. Mmm… sleep….

I woke abruptly some time later, in a ridiculous amount of pain, and panic; my calves (both) were cramping up and as any animal might, I woke with a sense of anxiety, the physical pain itself, and a moment of real panic trying to figure out what to do about it before I was quite awake enough to understand what was wrong. I still have no idea what the hell was going on, why I woke to leg cramps so unexpectedly, or really any sort of cause/effect information at all. I lurched onto my feet, pain and all, and instinctively used my body weight and upright posture to “make” my calves do something more like whatever I think I expect. A few minutes walking unsteadily, painfully, around the apartment, and eventually the urgency died away, and the cramps eased. I went back to bed, so fatigued I dropped immediately back into a deep sleep. My calves still ache like crazy this morning. What the hell was that about??

The wind blew like the sky was angry last night, a shouting match tree to tree, across the parking lots and park meadows, the wind chime nearly being launched from its hook, and the potted plants rocked with enough force to hear some of them knock against each other. The trip home from the salon I visited was longer than my commute, and the late hour resulted in two opportunities to stand in the darkness, in the rain, waiting for a bus, enjoying the wildness of the wind tossing my newly colored hair; I arrived home disheveled, to that sense of warmth, comfort, and relief that I associate with “feeling at home”. It was lovely.

I was too tired to be irked that it was too late to light a fire in the fireplace, and made a quick healthy meal, which I ate efficiently, but not especially attentively. I set a timer to be sure I didn’t rush to bed so quickly that might give myself heartburn because of the late meal.  I grabbed my self-care checklist, and quietly perused it for details I might have missed during the day, and took time to meditate. Sure, tired. Sure, a late evening. Definitely could use 15 minutes more sleep this morning… but… my meditation practice matters. From the vantage point of a groggy morning after a short night, I might think for a moment that I could have benefited from those minutes of meditation being sleep, instead, but by days end my opinion on that could be quite different; the long-term skillful management of day-to-day stress, for me, requires that I carefully ensure that I maintain my daily meditation practice. This is what works for me. Perhaps you have found another way? I have not. 😉 I’m very tired this morning, but I’m less likely to face a meltdown later on, for having maintained my dedication to this important self-care detail. It’s a practice, there are verbs, and it has been very much worth it over time.

Begin again. Again.

Begin again. Again.

Speaking of meditation… there’s still time this morning, too. I hear the blustery winds beating on the outside of the apartment. The heater has not yet taken the chill off the room. My coffee is hot, tasty, and the kitchen is clean… seems a good time, and a lovely wild morning for taking some chill time on the cushion by the patio door, watching the dawn develop and listening to the wind.

Today is a good day to take care of this rather tired being of light, wrapped in this peculiarly fragile vessel. Today is a good day for eye contact, and for smiles, and enjoying love songs. Let’s change the world – together. Let’s be our best selves today.  🙂

 

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Categories art and the artist, autumn, health, Healthy Living, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective
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