Archives for posts with tag: use your words

I take a breath and exhale completely. So far, it’s a good morning. Honestly, not really all that different from most other mornings, as far as the circumstances and practical factual details go. Most mornings start out pretty well, generally, in my experience. It’s the little things that make the difference; moments of aggravation or inconvenience, some little vexing interaction, a stubbed toe, a forgotten item only noticed on the other end of a long drive, miscommunication, mismatched expectations, some little disapppointment – any of these can result in the feeling of a crappy morning. How bad is it really, though, on any given day? I sip my coffee and think about that awhile.

I haven’t looked at the news today. There’s hardly any point, it’ll probably fit neatly into one of a small number of unimpressive categories: sponsored content, straight up advertising, “official” missives from the government that amount to actual fucking gaslighting, repeats of yesterday’s news copied again and again and spit out as AI slop, and opinion articles sharing the opinions of people whose opinions have no value to me. There is no point in immersing myself in that nonsense at all. I’d be better off reading Proust, by far. lol (If you think your attention span has been impaired by device use over time, making it hard to watch a 2-hour movie, get yourself situated – In Search of Lost Time, by Marcel Proust is 7 g’damned volumes of poetic prose maunderings. It’s a commitment. Still better than doomscrolling the news.)

I sigh quietly and smile. I’ve started reading Proust several times. I’ve yet to get past the first volume before wandering off to do other things and live life, and coming back to it after so much time has passed that I’ve got to start over. LOL Still manages to be a more worthwhile endeavor than doomscrolling some feed clogged with AI slop, by far.

I sip my coffee contentedly, grateful to have coffee at all, with the world in the state it is in right now. I breathe, exhale, and relax, and let that shit go, again. Now is not the time, really, and when it comes to being stressed out over distant events and people that we have no influence over, and whose actions barely touch our lives, well, that’s as pointless as expecting to read Proust “cover to cover” in an afternoon. It’s not a practical expectation, nor an efficient use of time. lol Instead, I take time for gratitude, and little things. It is a pleasant way to prolong a lovely morning, and to set up my day in a positive way. It is a practice well-suited to beginnings. With Thanksgiving (in the US) coming up pretty soon, it’s a strong step forward to make time for gratitude. It can be difficult to begin being grateful, if I’m vexed or irritated in some moment, but worthwhile then too; sincere gratitude quickly crowds out irritability, frustration, and anger. Handy sometimes.

It is the little things I’m often most grateful for, and the modern conveniences that I may sometimes take for granted even though elsewhere in the world (rather shamefully) they may be luxuries. Like… healthy food to eat, clean drinking water, indoor plumbing, high speed internet connectivity, wifi, and even this laptop from which I work each day – these all seem like relatively practical “necessities” in modern life, but I promise you they truly are not. I sip my coffee and reflect on my good fortune and my privileged circumstances. I’m lucky, indeed. Even luckier to have the partnership I do, and the cozy little home we share. I grateful for the skills that are valued by employers who have roles suited to my skills and my nature, such that I’m able to work – and even to work remotely, from home or wherever, and often on my own terms. I’ve got a lot to be thankful for. I’m grateful that my Traveling Partner’s healing has come so far, and that he is able to work in his shop again. I’m grateful for the housekeeping and help with chores that I get from the Anxious Adventurer each week. I’m grateful that my partner and his son both give me the space I need when I need it most, too. That’s a pretty big deal for me.

I smile to myself, feeling “filled up” on gratitude and ready to begin a new day. I’m walking my own path, and the circumstances and choices are my own – and I’m fortunate to enjoy the validation and agency that I do (unfortunately unusual even in the US). This path has brought me so far in such a (relatively) short time, and there is further to go. I’m grateful for that, too, and I’m ready to begin again. 😀

Sometimes life feels easy. Mostly life does not feel easy, at all (for me). Stress comes and goes. Uncertainty. Doubt. Worry over this or that new challenge. Circumstances that are a poor fit for the life we want to live. It’s not always a money thing. Sometimes it is. It’s not always about trauma, chaos, and damage. Sometimes it is. One thing I’m pretty clear on, these days; we’re each having our own experience, colored by our expectations and assumptions, filtered through our experiences, and understood using an internal dictionary it is highly likely no one else really shares. We bitch about left and right, about right and wrong, ignoring the likelihood that whoever is listening means something a bit different by those terms than we do, ourselves. We default to speaking in sound bites and slogans, even when we know how empty those may be. Human primates are weird. We treat each other poorly, even though our relationships with each other are the single most important thing about our individual experiences.

I sigh to myself. I’m in the co-work space getting settled in to begin the work day. The commute into the office was easy to the point of being surreal; I hit all the traffic signals along the way green, and there was never a car ahead of me going slower than I was, nor anyone creeping up on me from behind wanting to go faster. I hope the entire day feels like that. Seems unlikely; I slept poorly, and I’m already feeling signs of fatigue (or, perhaps, not quite fully awake, yet).

If someone asked me, right now, how I’m doing, I would say “not bad”, and the realization that such a conversation would go that way makes me roll my eyes and sigh softly with some measure of impatience and frustration. That sort of negative turn of phrase suits me, creatively, but isn’t ideal for communication. It was one of the first things my Traveling Partner ever asked me to consider changing, when we were getting to know each other. Hilariously, I misunderstood that request so thoroughly, I proceeded down a path of personal growth that wasn’t the intention, and became someone far more positive in general than I’d ever been previously. I have no comment whether this is – or was – a change for the better. I suppose, probably, and I am more content and joyful in life, but I don’t know that there is a causal relationship between that change and this experience. It’s just an interesting, mildly amusing recollection, as I start my day.

…I’m tired, and my mind wanders…

No walk this morning. Maybe later? It is a lovely autumn morning, and daybreak is just beginning. I smile and stretch, and think about recent other walks, and other mornings.

The colors of fall inspire me, and I think about paintings I have not yet painted.

I think about walking my path, as a metaphor for progress, growth, and forward momentum – changes over time, step by step, along a journey without a map. This life thing has so many options, choices, and “side quests”, it is sometimes difficult to imagine it as a single path. It twists, turns, and detours through experiences I hadn’t considered, or even imagined. The menu in The Strange Diner is vast.

I enjoy the routine of walking a familiar path, but change is often waiting for me somewhere along the way.

I find myself missing the library desk from which I most often work, these days. My “happy place” is not some fixed point of geography. It is my office & studio at home. It is in my garden. It is on the trail at dawn, watching the sun rise. It is in a quiet moment with my Traveling Partner. It is in a library, perhaps most of all. The library was one of the first places where I felt truly safe, surrounded by stacks of books, and rows of shelves, the air still and quiet and smelling of… history? Smelling of stories and narratives and the printed word, and seeming almost infinitely grand and somehow limitless. I love libraries. Small libraries in modest homes, big university libraries, legendary libraries that have stood the test of time over actual centuries – they each have that “library quality”.

How can someone be bored, in a library, when every shelf holds unexplored knowledge and infinite adventure?

I let my mind wander awhile longer. I’m okay for most values of “okay”. It’s an ordinary work day, in a fairly ordinary life – and that’s entirely fine. It’s enough. I glance at the clock, and notice the time. I breathe, exhale, and relax, before I begin again.

After a restless night, I woke gently, dressed, and slipped out of the house as quietly as I could. The big bright full moon led me down the trail to my halfway point. I didn’t bother with my headlamp until I was in the forested stretch of trail along the creek, where the darkness could not be pierced by the moonlight. It is a chilly morning.

Yesterday was weird and tense, but finished gently, harmoniously, and with the calm that comes from everyone being “on the same page”. I had started writing about the circumstances, making some notes about details and feelings, but this morning feels quite different and I don’t resume writing that. We’re each fine. Each having our own experience.

The simple truths that cohabitation as a family is more complicated than we anticipated, less convenient, more uncomfortable, and problematic for each of us in various ways isn’t to do with whether we care, or what we wanted. It’s an adult household and our lifestyles and needs don’t mesh easily. Together we’ve decided not to fight that and to work productively toward a better solution. The Anxious Adventurer will move out, and we’ll give him a hand with that, and until then, life is…life. We’ll live it, each doing our best and enjoying the time we have.

I’m deeply grateful to have had the Anxious Adventurer’s help while I did, as much as he was able to provide at the time. Did I need more and other help? Yeah. Sometimes. Has it also been hard dealing with the additional emotional labor? Yeah. Sometimes. Has it been worth it? Yeah. Mostly. Definitely. A lot got done that couldn’t have been done without his help. Is it sustainable to continue? Nope. The lack of willingness to continue, though, doesn’t reduce my gratitude for his help while my Traveling Partner got through surgery and began his recovery.

So here we are. I wasn’t wholly certain we were “doing the right thing” – it felt like we were nudging the Anxious Adventurer in the direction of a particular choice, perhaps. Then I saw his face when his Dad mentioned some of the things he’d be returning to… and understood that he wants this, too. Mixed feelings all around. It was sharing these mixed feelings together that brought me clarity. I hope the both of them feel as I do now, that this makes sense, and without regret or sorrow. The Anxious Adventurer is welcome back to visit – I hope he does! Holidays as a family can be fun and warm and deeply joyful.

I sit watching the moon set, reflecting on life and choices and how we get from our past to our future. I’m proud of my Traveling Partner – setting boundaries is hard. Self-care decision-making is sometimes fraught with self-doubt. He did well. I’ll reflect on this for a long time. I’m proud of the Anxious Adventurer, too. He kept his cool under stress, and he has come so far in the time he’s been here. I hope he takes all that growth and progress back with him and enjoys his life more, and more easily, with the knowledge and understanding he has gained. Growth can be uncomfortable. I’m proud of myself, too. No stress related meltdown, and no attempt to force an outcome that felt “safe” to me, personally, but wasn’t at all what anyone wanted. Well done, us. 😃

Today feels… easier. Clarity of thought has that effect (for me). Oh, there’s a bit of work and planning ahead, and some cost, but even that can be spread out over the upcoming weeks. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I let myself think about the holidays ahead, without any stress or doubt.

I remind myself to plan my day around my Traveling Partner’s appointment – I’ll need to check whether our current eye doctor takes our new insurance… I forgot to do that sooner…I sigh, and laugh. It’s already time to begin again.

It is evening. Just at the moment, I am finding myself in a very “why do I even bother?”, and also a very “you know what, just fuck all of this nonsense” kind of place. I know it will pass. I’m not in a good place in this moment, but change is, and moments don’t last. I’m rarely this coldly angry about anything, it’s not my way to let stuff get that bad without doing something about it, so when it does happen, I’m sometimes taken by surprise and not equipped to handle it. Not this moment. I saw potential for it in a change to my medication. Things have been okay for most values of okay, but I’ve been predictably moody, and a bit blue. I’m irritable and struggling to be kind or approachable. I’m also dealing with it, and I’ve done pretty well with that. I’m just right on the absolute edge of my last nerve.

It’ll pass.

I finish getting ready for bed. It’s not late, but I’d like to begin again, with a whole new day. I move things around and set up a cozy meditation space. I breathe, exhale, and relax… We become what we practice. My results vary. I guess I need more practice…no surprise there, really, that’s the whole point of viewing things through a lens of practical practices in the first place; it’s never finished work, and there is room to do better over time.

A full moon, a new day ahead.

I woke ahead of the alarm. Some noise, undefined, unrecognized, but enough to rouse me, pulled me from a sound restful sleep. I dress and head out and reach the trailhead early enough to see the full moon, a lovely pearl against the velvet of the night sky. I try to get a picture, but it’s a wasted effort. Even with a better camera, no picture I would take could equal the haunting beauty of the full moon on an autumn morning. I enjoy the sight while I lace up my boots and put on my headlamp.

… Yesterday’s moodiness seems to be behind me, now…

The work day ahead is… just a work day. My new normal. It’s fine. I’m prepared (although I did try to leave the house this morning without my laptop! 😆) I take a moment to appreciate that I didn’t actually forget it, or have to turn back for it in any significant way. I noticed just as I was leaving the house. Win. It’s a small thing, but still worth appreciating.

As I walk a fox darts across the trail ahead. I stop, astonished. I don’t recall that a fox would be any sort of threat, it’s just unusual to see one, here. It was definitely not a coyote or a dog. I walk on, to my halfway point and sit writing. Chilly morning. Beautiful moon. A new day, and another chance to be my best self. I failed on that endeavor yesterday, but not my worst, either. It was okay for most values of okay, and that’ll have to be enough. I can do better today.

I take time for meditation. I watch the moon setting slowly. I get ready to begin again.

I managed to sleep a little later this morning. I arrived at the trailhead at daybreak, a smudgy dirty looking faint orange streak along the horizon hints at sunrise coming soon. No point waiting. I trade shoes for boots, and grab my cane and my headlamp and step onto the trail.

The shallow bowl of the marshy meadow lowlands is filled with a dense mist. When I reach it, the mist envelopes me. Peculiarly, the mist is only about 4 feet deep, and I can’t see the ground I am walking in any detail. My headlamp is worse than useless, and I turn it off, letting it hang from my neck like some sort of awkward ornament. I keep walking, watching the sky lighten, listening to the quiet sounds of the meadow and marsh around me. I hear traffic on the nearby highway. The Tualatin river flows through here, forming one boundary of the park. I don’t hear it flowing by, deep and murky. The air is still and a bit chilly. I’m grateful to be wearing my fleece this morning.

I eventually reach my halfway point and stop for a bit, to meditate and write and reflect on life and the world.

Halfway on a misty morning.

I sit thinking about freedom. I’m not sure why it’s on my mind. Perhaps because, for the first time in my own lifetime, the United States is being lead by someone who appears to think freedom of speech is somehow defined by what he wants to hear, personally. So much to find distasteful and disturbing by the very idea. It’s a good time to buy books on subjects this administration finds objectionable – and to read them – we are realistically at risk of seeing them pulled from bookstores and libraries “for our own good”, “for the children”, or because they have been deemed unacceptable for some reason, by some narrow special interest group. I’m not kidding. No exaggeration, I am deeply concerned about our intellectual freedom.

…When the cold war ended, I felt so hopeful about the world…

I’d love to see truth become more popular. I dislike the media hype machine, and the pursuit of likes, clicks, and views produces some awful results, not the least of which is poor quality writing and reporting that may lack any factual basis. Maybe the move to undermine free speech will result in legislation that requires truth in reporting? That would be hilarious – and might serve us well, in the long run.

I sigh quietly by myself watching the mist spread slowly, obscuring the view. I reflect on the mist as a metaphor, dense, obscuring my view, hiding obstacles on my path, clammy and chilly and clinging to me as I move through it, but lacking real substance, and incapable of impeding my movement. It has no power that I don’t give it. That’s important to understand.

I’m just saying, read the books you see being restricted, withheld from libraries and institutions, or hear those in power seeking to dismiss or “cancel”. Those books wouldn’t be a big deal, if they didn’t say something worth hearing.

“Woke” isn’t an insult. It’s a term used to indicate that a person recognizes institutional and systemic injustices, most commonly those with a racial basis, but also gender (misogyny is still a real problem), and disability. Commandeering the term to use as an insult dilutes and undermines its value – but only if we allow that.

“DEI”… When did we decide that being a melting pot of cultures and ideas is a bad thing? That’s diversity. Can you explain how “equity” is a problem? Don’t you, yourself, want equitable treatment in the workplace, and in the world? “Inclusion” seems an unlikely villain – do you not want your children to be included by their peers, in games, in events, in life? Where is the problem?

“Woke” people, seeing the injustices and inequity in our institutions and systems of power and governance, moved to make changes – and DEI as a movement was born. The greatest impact was likely felt in the workplace, initially. Codes of conduct changed to be more fair, more focused on consistent and equitable treatment in hiring. People who had been prevented from advancing, in spite of their qualifications, began to get ahead in life. These changes for the better began to spread. Life began to get better for so many people!

… We’ve lost momentum because a handful of vocal shitheads are mad that they can no longer rest on their privilege (whether that’s to do with being male, white, Christian, affluent, or connected is irrelevant), and now have to put in a bit more work to get ahead. Now, here we are…

How are those “guaranteed” freedoms working out for you?

I sigh to myself. Human primates can be so g’damned stupid – and greedy. That’s likely what most of this is actually about. Greed – and power. So gross. The worst.

A rose blooming in my garden.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I let all of the bitterness and disappointment go. I can only do so much. I speak my mind fearlessly. I vote. I served my country ethically and with honor (at least as I understood it at that time).

…I remind myself to reach out to former comrades at arms, some of them are no doubt struggling with this bullshit much as I am, and there is solace in sharing and a feeling of safe haven in community…

The sunrise has come and it is a new day filled with promise. I’m hoping to spend it enjoying my Traveling Partner’s good company. It was a very busy week at work, and he has missed me. I’m planning to try a new recipe, later, and maybe fit in some “me time” later this weekend. Long weekend – I’ve taken Monday off for the equinox. Maybe I’ll take my camera or my pastels up the Nestucca River Byway and enjoy some solitary creative time?

The meadow is still covered in mist, as though someone rolled out cotton batting over the whole thing. I smile to myself, grateful for the lovely moment of solitude and rest from the busy week behind me. Sunlight illuminates the tops of the oaks. It’s already time to begin again.