Archives for posts with tag: use your words

I’m sipping coffee and feeling irritated by something I read. I decide not to rant about it, and sit quietly reflecting on it instead. Words can come later. It makes sense to “get my head right” before I start blathering foolishly about something I’ve had an emotional reaction to, but about which I lack clarity of thought. All in good time, eh? Other voices can lead with emotions, I’ll sit this one out for a time.

… This is sometimes a difficult choice to make…

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I’ve taken the day off work to handle a project with the help of the Anxious Adventurer, wrapping up the move of household goods between storage units. The clock is ticking, but there’s only the largest items left, and we’ve got a truck for all that. Soon. For now, I sit with my coffee and my thoughts.

I am thinking about language, and the way it functions, which is to say “by agreement”. Without a shared understanding of the definitions of terms being used, there is no reliably good communication. No “understanding”. How often do you pause a contentious conversation to clarify the meanings of key words and phrases? How often do you verify that you and those you are conversing with have a shared understanding of what words mean? Conmen, grifters, “marketing experts”, and all manner of manipulative individuals, rely on the likelihood that we can be persuaded to think or behave in some useful way based on what we thought we understood them to have said, without clearly understanding what they actually meant by the words they used. Just saying it’s generally a good idea to check in on such things, to verify shared understanding of words being used, and to avoid being misled by misused language.

I watch daybreak arrive, thinking my thoughts. Lovely quiet morning, so far. Soon enough it will be time to begin again. Already.

My sleep was restless and disturbed by strange vivid dreams. I woke several times during the night, but seemed to have gotten enough rest to get through another day. I woke to find an irritated message from my Traveling Partner, a reminder about a preference regarding housekeeping. Although I appreciate the reminder for what it is, I could do without the “tone”.

… I remind myself it’s difficult for an able, skilled, adult man to find himself so thoroughly dependent on his partner’s assistance and cut him some slack…

I’m working my ass off day-to-day to keep shit caught up, and meet all the complex needs of the household… and I’m feeling pretty cross this morning. The lack of basic consideration being shown to me by everyone counting on me for so much seems lacking – inappropriately so. I remind myself everyone is human and that my efforts are appreciated… but fucking hell I do wish they were reciprocated more often! Particularly where housekeeping and cooking are concerned. I know my Traveling Partner’s limitations legitimately hold him back, for the time being, but the Anxious Adventurer has no such limitations and seems unaware just how much extra work I do that I’d like some fucking help with. Being fair, he’s generally helpful when I ask, but g’damn there’s a fucking ton of everyday shit that is obvious and right in front of him. Dishes. Cooking dinner. Picking up the mail. Laundering towels.

… I shouldn’t bitch; he does quite a bit of project stuff I can’t get to at all because of everything else. I’m just tired. I need a break, and I’m getting one very soon. I relax when I think about it. Day after tomorrow. 😀

I guess it mostly just aggravates me that it often feels like I’m the only one actively putting effort – a lot of effort – into quality of life basics (like dishes, and counter tops). It’s probably not an accurate perception. Perhaps I’m feeling resentful of how little time is left to take care of myself or do anything fun that I want to do for myself, once everyone else’s needs are met? I should figure out how to speak up about that before the pressure builds to some ridiculous emotional explosion.

… It’s especially nice to come home to the dishes being done. It’s rare. I’d love to hear someone offer to take care of the evening meal so I don’t have to. Also exceedingly rare. I can ask for these kinds of things, but that leaves 100% of the mental work of having it in mind still on me. That sucks. I’d rather be thinking about art. lol Waaaah! Adulting is hard!

I breathe exhale and relax. I need a break and I’m taking one. Then I can begin again.

Sharing that important opinion? Don’t bother. I mean, okay, your opinion matters to you. It feels good, maybe even important, to “be heard”, and social media gives that sensation a tremendous immediacy, as though you can actually share your relevant (seeming) opinion with the important (seeming) people you perceive as capable of making changes, or needing to be informed of your (“obviously”) critical thoughts and perspective. Only… mostly? No one is actually listening, and generally no one gives a damn about the random commonplace utterly ordinary (often ill-informed) opinions of the average Everyperson on social media. Maybe you go viral because what you said is sufficiently amusing or poignant or well-stated – but mostly you won’t, and mostly no one is listening, and generally no one gives a shit. Hilariously, we’ve mostly (as a society) given up on snail mail, though it sometimes carries real weight. Even that, though, often just amounts to more “screaming into the void”, and trust me, most of what you feel most inclined to say with such urgency isn’t even novel or noteworthy or of any great import. It’s been said by someone somewhere already. Most likely. Human primates tend to be fairly conformist thinkers with limited imagination (in my opinion).

Posts on social media often just sound like someone shouting at their television. It’s pretty pointless and not even very gratifying. lol This? Right here? It’s an example of that; it’s my opinion. I didn’t do any actual research. I don’t actually “know more” than someone else does. It’s just my own impression, based on my own experience. Is it worth sharing? I’m willing to be sufficiently honest with myself to admit that I don’t know that it really is worth sharing; it’s just my opinion, and I’m choosing to share it without any certainty that it matters at all. Hell, it probably doesn’t, and it’s likely that very few people will read this, and fewer still will care.

I write because I write, it’s really that simple (for me). I’d be writing anyway, and this I do know for a fact based on my lived experience over many years. It’s too easy to get caught up in the bullshit drama and artificially inflated sense of importance on social media – so I left social media. I still talk back to thumbnail titles and news headlines, because so often the content isn’t worth actually watching or reading; everything I need to know is in the bullshit click-bait title, right there up front trying to get my attention, and seeking my engagement. I “engage”, more often than not, by commenting aloud whatever my personal bullshit opinion is, and I move on to the next item. This amuses me without inflaming anyone else, and it’s every bit as likely to “move the needle” on some issue (which is to say, not at all). Less time wasted of these precious limited mortal hours.

I’m feeling a tad cynical, I guess. I need to paint, and walk trails with my solitary thoughts, and distance myself from the many disappointments of humanity – and oh good g’damn there are so so many. Humanity kind of sucks, and our best efforts to do better are not nearly enough. Please keep trying though; the effort does matter. I silently remind myself to do my best, and that the journey is the destination. It’s not about what anyone else wants or needs from me. It’s about what I want and need from myself; to be the person I most want to be, the “best version” of myself that I can become over time.

I sigh quietly, looking out into the morning fog. It’s a chilly autumn morning, and this morning I am waiting for the sun. It’s Saturday, and there is no hurry. The morning is mine.

I sit with my thoughts and my coffee. Later, I’ll begin again. It’s my path, and I’ll walk it my way.

I slept last night. I woke this morning feeling pretty good, in spite of my headache, and my arthritis (which are becoming generally non-negotiable elements of my day-to-day experience). I moved through my morning routine pretty efficiently and quietly. I took my morning medications on time without a mishap, and the rain stopped just as I got to the trailhead. Seems like a pretty good morning so far.

Yesterday wasn’t all that bad, once I got past the morning, though I had considerable difficulty staying focused on work after my Traveling Partner pinged me good morning. I would have preferred to spend the day idly conversing with him, intimate and connected. The evening, after work, was relaxed and genial. We talked and shared the time contentedly. Dinner wasn’t fancy, pretty low effort but still a tasty home-cooked hot meal. I got some basic housekeeping chores handled. We communicated easily with each other, no stress, no drama, in spite of my fatigue. It was a great time all around.

I sit with my coffee and a smile in the pre-dawn darkness, a small circle of light cast by my headlamp, set to my side on this bench, to reduce the glare while I write and reflect. I turn it off to meditate, enjoying the diffuse light of town and street lights reflected back by the cloudy sky. It’s dark, for many values of darkness, but my eyes adjust quickly and I could probably walk the trail in the dimness without my headlamp if I chose to. It’s just easier with a bit of light. I smile at the implied metaphor and let my thoughts move on.

My Traveling Partner admitted yesterday that he hasn’t been reading my blog for awhile, caught up in his own experience. I didn’t feel hurt by that, and I even understand. It does tend to explain how misaligned we’ve sometimes felt, though; he has lacked a ton of explicit knowledge of my day-to-day experience, because rather than “repeat myself”, I’ve left things unsaid that I wrote about. That was a poor choice on my part, and we’ve paid for it in frequent misunderstandings and miscommunication. Well, shit. Now I know. I’m not even annoyed; the fault is mine. I made an assumption and didn’t check in on that. Ideally, I’d have been “using my words” and trusting my beloved to alert me if he was already aware of some detail.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s a good morning so far. I hope the day ahead is as pleasant. I’ve got work, and a couple things to get done to care for my partner and our home. I’m looking forward to working from home today and enjoying lunch together. I feel… good. It’s nice. It’s enough.

I look at the sky. Daybreak hasn’t come yet. It will, though, and the clock is ticking. It’s time to begin again.

It is raining at this trailhead. Just a sprinkle, really, and not enough to deter me this morning; I am restless and tired and I feel a need to “walk it off”. I slept poorly. My Traveling Partner was up late with the Anxious Adventurer, clearly enjoying each other’s company. I retired for the night a little later than usual, and every time I started to doze off, a bit of loud conversation or the bark of unexpected laughter would wake me. This went on until well past eleven, though I stopped checking the time at that point, resigned to the serious likelihood that I just wasn’t going to get the rest I need.

… I’m honestly still annoyed about it…

I woke sometime around 02:30, wakened again by some human sound. My Traveling Partner was awake. I felt a moment of sympathy; I wasn’t sleeping well, either. Headache-y and sound sensitive, I got up to pee, had a drink of water, and went back to bed. I woke groggy and stupid when my silent alarm reached full brightness, cross to be facing a new day already. My dreams were full of work (actual manual labor). I woke still tired, eyes scratchy, head aching, squinting at what seemed to be the overly harsh reality of another work day ahead.

…Fuck, I’m tired and irritable…

I breathe, exhale, and relax. Dinner was really good last night. The evening was pleasant and genial. Fun. Time well-spent, although listening to Tool turned up loud for the last hour of my day (sort of) didn’t do my fucking headache any favors. I almost laughed when my Traveling Partner asked me “Have you heard this one?” (Was he kidding, I wondered? I endured 14 years of Tool in the relationship prior to ours. lol. Yep. Heard that. All of that. All the time. Every day for 14 years. I even like some of it… but the anger got old and I got bored with it. I sit thinking about that; it’s a little sad when great art becomes boring. Trite? Overplayed.) I return my attention to yesterday’s pleasantness. It was a delightful day worthy of savoring for a time – so I do.

I’m sitting at the halfway point of my walk, enjoying the sprinkling of raindrops on my face in the darkness. It feels refreshing and my mood improves sitting here quietly, listening to the sound of distant traffic and a soft breeze stirring the meadow grass. My back and neck ache ferociously. There’s still an entire work day ahead. Still, I’m okay – for most values of okay. I’m just tired. I feel less cross, understanding there was no ill will in my crappy night’s lack of rest. The Anxious Adventurer lacks awareness of how his voice carries. My Traveling Partner was enjoying his son’s company. Their conversation wasn’t unpleasant or burdened with negative emotion, and perhaps on a different night I’d have slept through it easily. I let it go. There are more important things in the world to be mad about.

The rain begins to come down harder, making it difficult to write. I get to my feet and stretch, looking back down the trail in the direction I came. Yep. Another day ahead. There are verbs involved and some real effort to be made. I’m already tired. Doesn’t matter much, it’s still time to begin again.