Archives for posts with tag: use your words
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Making Time for What Matters

August 29, 2024 //
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I’m sitting at the trailhead, waiting for the sun. There’s an owl somewhere very close,   and I listen to it’s calls in the pre-dawn darkness. The sky is clear and starry, with a pale small crescent moon visible. A breeze stirs the tops of the tallest meadow grasses, but it’s not enough to move the trees on the horizon in any way I can see from here. I sit quietly with my thoughts. Waiting is. I’ve become rather good at it over a lifetime.

I am thinking about time and timing and wondering how best to make time for art and for painting in such a busy period in my life… I definitely need to figure it out. I was severely grumpy yesterday evening, and only partly because I was uncomfortable from pain and annoyed by the challenges of eustachian tube dysfunction and the possible loss of perceived hearing on one side. I was also grumpy because…

I very much want to be painting. I’m itching to pick up the pastels again and feeling inspired, daily… and I can’t seem to find even a few minutes of this precious limited mortal lifetime to call my own (besides these quiet minutes in the early morning, already spent on needed self-care). I’m not bitching that there are things to be done and that I must do them. It’s more that I am irritated that the days feel so short. By the time all the things that simply must get done have been done, I am too tired for anything more than a shower and an early bedtime.

… I could do a better job of setting my priorities perhaps, or explicitly asking for help from the Anxious Adventurer…

… It’s fine. It’s temporary. I’m carrying the load for two people in so many ways right now. It’s important to note how much I really am getting done. How well I am managing it. But…yeah… I’m letting myself down in this one important way, and struggling to resolve that sometimes has me feeling really cross and also pretty fucking invisible. No one else seems to notice anything “wrong”, so long as the dishes are done, the laundry is kept caught up, and all the errands are run.

I sigh quietly with frustration, then silently acknowledge that I subtly sabotage myself on this one by enduring conditions silently (most of the time) without speaking up about my needs. Would it even matter? Oh fuck yes, it would. It does. I know this because yesterday evening I did speak up – and did it without yelling or tears or any sort of tantrum. I just said I really want to make time to paint and that I was struggling to do that because there always seems to be more expected or needed from me. My Traveling Partner made eye contact with me, looked thoughtful, and made it clear he really heard me. He suggested he might already be up to short trips out of the house, if not now, then soon..? He asked me what I need. I replied that I don’t need him to be gone. I do want to be able to set things aside and focus on art for a little while is all. He gently assured me that if I make it clear I am taking time to paint or draw or work creatively, he would not make demands on my time until I was finished. Wow. I feel heard and supported. It feels really good. And…

…Well, shit… That does leave it up to me to manage my time, set and manage expectations about what I am doing, and to follow through with and for myself. It puts my agency in my own hands… which means the choice is mine. (Maybe it has been all along?) So… Okay. Maybe tonight? After work. After dinner. I feel excited and eager. Hopeful. A little bit timid. Do I have the strength of will to choose myself over the dishes now and then? I sit in the morning darkness thinking about will and freedom and choices and responsibility. I think about agency. I think about love. It’s a nice morning for thoughts and for self-care.

… It’s important to recognize whether circumstances are holding me back… or I am. I sit with that thought until daybreak.

Here it comes, a whole new day.

It is a new day. I can choose differently. I can do more to take care of myself, and enjoy my life. I can make choices that allow me to thrive vs merely surviving while supporting hearth and home. I can invest some of my time in more of the things that matter most to me. When I get the balance wrong (and I will), I can begin again. Like today.

I smile and think about my Traveling Partner, and how much he clearly loves me. I lace up my boots, and grab my cane. It’s time to walk a mile or two and watch another sunrise. It’s time to begin, again.

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Categories Allegories, Art, art and the artist, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Summer, The Art of Being, Words

Choices and Chances

August 22, 2024 //
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I’m waiting for the sun. This feels almost like fall. The gate at the trailhead is still closed and the sky is dark, not quite daybreak. Beyond the scattered trees silhouetted darkly against a cloudy sky, illuminated faintly by the glow of suburbia beneath, the lights of commuter traffic twinkle as they pass, like a string of sparkling gemstones. The air is mild, and almost warm. Aside from the passing cars and my tinnitus, it’s quiet.

Beginning again.

Yesterday was a good day, followed by a pleasant evening spent as a family. Time well-spent, in good company. My Traveling Partner is seeming “more himself” as he heals, and I feel encouraged and reassured by this. His kindness and geniality are returning as he heals and it’s good to see. I can’t truly know how hard he has struggled to hold on to his sense of self throughout this injured time, but I do know it hasn’t been easy, and he has suffered greatly.

As for the Anxious Adventurer, he’s walking a difficult path himself, for different reasons. Embracing change is hard, and comes with challenges of its own. New environment. New expectations. New rules. Pretty much every detail of his day-to-day thrown into chaos, however briefly in the bigger picture of an entire lifetime, but nonetheless a lot to learn and to change. It hasn’t been easy to adapt, that much is clear to any bystander.

Me? Yeah, me too. This period of adjustment has been hard. Complicated by the very things that made it desirable to make these changes at all. Being human is sometimes very complicated. I don’t particularly prefer cohabitation, which I discovered rather late in life, and that is my challenge and also my opportunity for growth. Challenge accepted? I so greatly love and enjoy my Traveling Partner that I am fairly willing to make changes to deepen our bond and enjoy our mortal lifetime together, in spite of my nature. Funny creatures, we human beings. We’ll do so much for love.

… Things got ridiculously tense and unpleasant for several days and I have been unhappy with the state of things…

I took time to write down what I really need to comfortably cohabitate and thrive, at my Traveling Partner’s request. He looked it over and agreed that my “house rules” looked like a healthy way to live together as a family, if everyone “buys in” and does their part. We shared the rules with the Anxious Adventurer, who gave them serious thought. We discussed them all together, before everyone explicitly agreed that this looks like a good approach and that we’re each willing to do our part. The discussion was a beautiful “proof of concept”, itself. I’m still coasting on the resulting feeling of shared commitment and understanding. Nice moment. I feel heard and supported.

Humans are still human. We’re each working our asses off to be better human beings than we were yesterday. We’ll become what we practice. We can count on incremental change over time. This feels like a very pleasant place to be standing in life. It’s still work, and no doubt our results may vary.

Daybreak comes. I hit the trail feeling light-hearted and contented. Another nice moment. I smile as I walk. No fancy colorful sunrise this morning; the sky is gray and cloudy, threatening rain. I’m fine with it. It’s not raining right now. The air is sweet with the scent of wildflowers and meadow grasses. I’ve got the trail to myself this morning. On the other side of my walk, a stop at the store on my way home. Life being lived.

I walk on, grateful to be walking, still. I breathe, grateful for the breath of life. My heart is filled with love and the thought of my partner, and I am grateful for the opportunity to love and be loved in return. I walk and keep on walking. Once I reach the end of the trail, I’ll begin again.

…It seems a lovely morning for living life…

Where does this path lead?
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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5

Beginnings

July 12, 2024 //
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Yesterday had a pace and intensity I don’t generally prefer, but a lot got done, and what got done is behind me now. Some details in our living spaces are being refreshed and updated, partially triggered by the arrival of the Anxious Adventurer, but some of it simply completion of long-planned projects that had been delayed too long (life happens).

The dark somewhat monolithic secretary that has sometimes been a computer desk, sometimes a “mini office in a box”, and sometimes a cabinet to hold stray things is finally out. All the way out. It has served its time and I am grateful for all of that, but it didn’t really fit the aesthetic of any room it stood in. Glad to see it replaced with beautiful natural birch bookcases, into which the books have been unpacked. We had planned for this for four years. Overdue.

A finished project.

Other things got done, bathroom cabinets added, and things moved out of the way ahead of changes to come. It was a labor intensive day for everyone, each of us doing our best at maximum capacity. By the end of the day we were all exhausted, but also feeling quite satisfied with the outcomes.

Growth works that way, too. It’s sometimes necessary to dig deep, do more in a moment than we think we can, and push through the things holding us back. It’s often necessary to discard things that don’t work and begin doing something quite different. Growth can be incredibly uncomfortable, in spite of satisfying outcomes. It’s quite a bit of actual work and there are no guarantees of immediate success.

Another perspective on growth.

…It can be so hard to let go of things to which we have become attached over time…

Reassuringly, I find, incremental change over time is generally “the way”, and we definitely become what we practice. (What are you practicing? Will it get you where you want to go?)

… Let go of what does not work…

It is pleasantly cool on the trail this morning. I feel lighthearted and at ease. It’s Friday. It’s payday. The heat has substantially abated. Almost all of the work involved in getting the Anxious Adventurer moved in and settled has been done, now. He’s here. He’s unpacked. Now things can truly begin to settle into a new normal.

… There are still a handful of details, but my to-do list no longer scrolls for several seconds. Progress.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s a lovely morning to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being

Awe – Small Wonders

April 12, 2024 //
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I’m sipping my coffee and thinking about delight and awe, and captivating small wonders that press “pause” on some random moment, infusing it with something more than the ordinary.

Mushrooms in the lawn.

I strolled around the garden yesterday evening, taking a moment for myself to adjust to being home at the end of a very busy workday. The moment was carved out of the time between dinner and relaxing with my Traveling Partner. I could have been busy on housekeeping but chose, instead, to delight my senses with the garden in Spring. I turned a corner into the side yard, and laughed out loud with pure joy to see a rather large number of small mushrooms had popped up. This is the first Spring for the lawn that my Traveling Partner put in last summer. I’m still smiling about the mushrooms. They aren’t particularly significant or important (or useful to me in any obvious way), they just … please me. It’s enough.

I sit sipping my coffee thinking about how difficult I find it to carve out these small moments of delight for myself lately, and wonder what I could be doing differently to make that easier, and these moments more common. I read something recently about the experience of “awe” or wonder being very good for us cognitively. I know I enjoy those experiences, very much. The joy is reason enough to pursue the experience of awe, wonder, or delight, isn’t it?

I remind myself to start “taking a minute” to really sit with my thoughts, uninterrupted, after work. It’s a helpful practice that reduces how much small shit I’m likely to forget, and that matters.

The weekend is almost here. I think back to a delightful relaxed moment of solitude and thoughtfulness during my recent coastal getaway. I sat alone in the car, as the rain battered every surface. The noise of it was impressive, but not the sort of thing to interrupt my thoughts, quite the opposite; it was easy to focus on my inner experience with the rain drowning out all else.

A moment with my own thoughts.

It’s sometimes difficult to get those moments of solitary thoughtfulness. Doing so often requires explicit expectation-setting, and actually speaking up about the need. For some reason, I find myself reluctant to make a point of doing so, seeking instead to “find” those experiences of solitary reflection arising naturally from the flow of things – and that has proven time and again to be a poor choice. Unreliable at best. I sip my coffee and think that over for some quiet minutes. There’s a real need here. It’s clear I need to “use my words” to meet that need. Why would that make me so uncomfortable in the moment? I sit sipping coffee and thinking…

…The sun rises beyond the windows of the office. The sky is a pale blue streaked with white clouds high in the atmosphere, and dotted here and there with fluffier grayer clouds nearer to the rooftops. I wonder what the weekend weather will be like, and whether I’ll be able to get a hike in, and work in the garden? There is so much to do, too…

…It’s already time to begin again…

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Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gardening, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, Spring, The Art of Being, The Big 5, Words

One Way or Another

February 28, 2024 //
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I’m sipping my iced coffee and thinking about mortality. Not really a surprise after visiting a dear friend who is facing hers. Thing is, there are options and “ways to go”, and I’m not surprised by my dear friend’s choices, and I’m so fucking grateful (and relieved) that she’s gotten to make those choices with her own voice and mind and will, and that her family loves her enough to respect those choices. It’s a difficult time. Saying goodbye was less trying than simply somewhat sorrowful (and also unexpectedly joyful and deeply connected), and in part that was because my dear friend is cared for by people who love her, who have also managed to keep their senses of humor intact, and are so skilled at balancing respect for this dear woman who has been so much to us all, while also fending off the medical bureaucracy and bullshit (yeah, there’s a surprising amount of that) to ensure she is cared for and comfortable while the clock ticks. I’m glad I went to visit.

The private anecdotes illuminate the loving good-nature of my dear friend, and her continued sense of humor and awareness of her circumstances. I won’t be sharing those, they feel too private – but g’damn do I love this woman, and admire her strength and practicality. I hope when it is my turn, I have some measure of her strength, wisdom, and will. She’s managed to make things so much easier on her family simply by having known – and communicated – what she wants for end-of-life care for a long time. Fuck it is going to be a lonelier world without her in it!

…What I’m saying is, think about what you will want when “that time” comes, and then actually say words about it to those that you love. Don’t run from it. We are mortal creatures, and at least as of 2023, there’s no dodging that.

I arrived home last night after as close to an effortless drive back as could have been achieved. Almost no traffic, things moving along smoothly at slow points through small towns, pretty good weather… even the rain that began to fall midway through the drive stayed quite well-behaved and wasn’t much of an impediment to safe driving. I got home more than an hour earlier than expected, but that was mostly due to taking shorter/fewer breaks. I took plenty of those, and more frequently, with the result that I didn’t need so many or such long ones. Funny how that worked out. There’s a self-care lesson there. My Traveling Partner was pleased to have me home. I am happy to be back. Feels good. Comfortable. Familiar.

…The comfort and familiarity of home reminds me of the disappointing blandness of the hospital my dear friend is currently in. How the hell is anyone supposed to heal in that unengaging, unappealing environment?? I sip my coffee and think about that for some minutes…

The pre-dawn darkness became daylight… I barely noticed. There’s quite a lot to catch up on with work… time to begin again.

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Categories breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Love, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, winter, women
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