Archives for posts with tag: wake up

Oh, hey, that’s right – no one sponsors this content. lol It’s just me, sitting here in the quiet of morning, before sunrise, alone with my thoughts. 😀 I like that arrangement.

I sip my coffee, sitting here quietly enjoying the warmth and comfort of a simple breakfast of oatmeal, with a handful of cashews and dried blueberries added. It’s not fancy. Hell, I don’t even like oatmeal. It’s a healthy choice, though, and I learned quite a long time ago that I enjoy it best with the least fussing; I add boiling water, enough to make it rather thin, and stir it around a bit until the texture suits me, and eat it. Not fancy at all. No added sugar (besides the blueberries, which are dried but not sweetened), just some nuts and dried fruit, in measured portions. It’s enough.

Although I see it as “simple” and “not fancy”, it is the sort of breakfast that comes at a “hidden cost”. Cashews? Cashews are an “exotic nut” that comes from far away places. They’re not cheap now, and I suppose they’ll be more expensive very soon. Tariffs. Dried blueberries? Well, if I’m going to insist on those being nothing more than whole healthy fruit, dried without preservatives or added sugar, I’m going to end up paying for that privilege – and it is a privilege. Also not cheap now, and with the mass deportations going on, it’s likely that farm labor for harvesting things like blueberries is going to become more limited, and more costly too. Well, shit. I sigh over my “simple” breakfast, grateful to be aware of what contributes to the experience I am enjoying. I am dismayed by the short-sighted petty bullshit and dim-wittery of the current leadership of the US government. Disappointed that everyday people voted these corrupt (and in some cases actually evil) clowns into office in the first place. What the actual fuck, eh? (G’damn do I hate plain oatmeal, too – but I may be eating it by the time summer comes.)

Sorry. It’s on my mind. I apologize to myself as much as to anyone else. No point getting spun up over this shit and losing my way, eh? Especially first thing in the morning. I sigh to myself. I breathe, exhale, and relax, and pause for gratitude; it’s blueberries and cashews this morning, and it’s lovely. I’ve got a delicious cup of coffee, too; the office staff bought the Ethiopian beans I suggested, instead of the Columbian beans that are the usual supply in the office. A most pleasant morning, worthy of appreciation and gratitude, and I make that my focus. A pessimistic outlook may result in being “right” more often, but it’ll be a lot less enjoyable, generally, and being “right” is highly over-rated unless you have the will and the power to do something about the circumstances in some practical way. Just saying – don’t forget to enjoy the little things in life. They matter. A lot.

Life isn’t “perfect”. It’s never going to be – that simply isn’t a real part of the “human condition”. We’re wired with a strong negative bias, and our survival has often depended on being aware of imminent threats far more than it has ever depending on knowing joy. So – we have to work at enjoying joy. Worth practicing. Taking a moment for that, I make a point of reflecting on the lovely moments of the weekend just behind me, instead of becoming mired in some little thing that wasn’t “just so”, or some headache, inconvenience, or moment of pain. It’s always pretty easy to recall what went wrong at some given point in time, less so for the things that went right. So I sit with the recollection of my Traveling Partner’s smile. Of the cute Valentine’s Day gift he gave me early – just because. Of the warmth of his arms around me, and how good it felt to be in his embrace, and really feel the progress he’s making as he continues to recover from his injury. It’s been a long year of worry, and I’m so happy to see him back on his feet, and back in the shop, and to feel the warmth of his love expressed in a lingering hug. I smile to myself, thinking about the satisfaction of making a really good dinner and enjoying it as a family. I enjoy the sense of accomplishment of tackling some much needed tidying up in my studio/office/personal space. It was a good weekend. I still live in the United States, and holy fucking hell our government is still some sort of weird mockery of what it was, being run by corrupt criminal billionaires, fanatics, and grifters, but… things are nice at home, and it’s worth making that my focus for awhile. Enjoying the joy. Filling up on the love and the delightful moments. This is a really practical approach for building the resilience I’ll need to deal with the stress of “other bullshit” in a world very definitely filled with a lot of that.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I sit with my thoughts and my good cup of coffee. It is a cold winter morning, and I’m fortunate to be warm and safe and dry. I’ve got a good job, and it keeps the bills paid. I’ve got a good partnership, and we thrive together and get things done. Family life is good – maybe the best I’ve ever had it. The Anxious Adventurer has a good heart, and he helps out quite a lot. I’m learning to more clearly communicate my needs and expectations. The journey is the destination – and for now the path feels relatively smooth, the way ahead more or less clear, enough to walk my own mile with some confidence.

A faint shadow crosses my brow when I think about my Dear Friend. It’s been almost a year since she died, and I am thinking of her often. My mood brightens when I recall the recent visit of The Author, another very dear friend, and quite a delightful visit – he’s a good guest, and an exceptional friend. I can’t always see what is around the next bend in life’s path, but it’s proven to be a journey worth making. (The company we keep on this journey matters quite a lot.) I smile and finish my coffee, thinking about a second cup, already. I guess it’s time to begin again.

How do you light your way when you must pass through darkness? Do you use matches? A cigarette lighter? A candle? An oil lamp? A big flashlight filled with D batteries? A headlamp? A portable camp lantern? Do you flip a switch? Count on public streetlights? Maybe you just wait for the sun? You’ve got choices and the choices to vary in suitability and effectiveness. Some are too dim. Some are unreliable. Some won’t last long enough to get you through the darkness. These days there seems to be a lot of g’damned darkness, doesn’t there?

It’s a metaphor. You already caught on to that, didn’t you? How will you “light your way” through the darkness as a new “dark age” begins? Do you sense the darkness falling? What will you do to bring light to the darkness? Your results may vary, but you do have choices. Don’t let your voice be silenced. Don’t stumble blindly through the darkness, persuaded that it isn’t actually dark at all.

In practical and clear terms, as information is pulled off the Internet and made less available, it’s time to make a point to buy, read, and share bound books.  Check and double-check the sources of the information you consume. Be wary of hidden agendas.

It’s necessary – urgently so – to “speak truth to power”, and the powerful aren’t going to make that easy. (It’s already no longer possible to directly email many elected officials who “represent you”, including the White House.) Use snail mail. Pick up the phone. Write letters to the editors of newspapers (while those still exist). Gather with others and raise your voices together. You may need to make a real effort to be heard. It’s important that you do. (Me too. All of us.)

The darkness is coming. Lighting a match is less likely to be useful than a headlamp on the trail, but you may need spare batteries. Flipping on the lights makes sense in a dark room, but you’ve got to pay the electric bill.

… Still a metaphor…

I’m just saying, don’t wander in darkness. Seek Illumination. Find enlightenment. Make a point to light the way for others, too, when you can. Don’t trust that it’ll be fine to wait for the sun; we never know when we’ll see another sunrise.

… Maybe don’t share your journey with people who tell you that it’s better that you should live in darkness…

It’s likely to be a long four years, and we’re all in this together.

It’s time to begin again. How will you light your way, until the sun rises again?

I overslept this morning. Of course. I have an important meeting on my calendar, early. Not early enough to change the flow of my routine at all, just early enough to “feel different” and be on my mind, in the background. I dreamt strange dreams before I woke.

I dreamt that I worked somewhere quite different than I do, and that we worked uncomfortably alongside each other, me, “the boss”, and a bunch of classic stereotypical “mean girls” (basic bitches one and all with french tip manicures, heavy perfumes, high heels, and carefully sprayed hair-dos) – and “the other coworker”. She was a pleasant competent woman going through some difficult times, and in my dream I remember feeling affronted and dismayed to hear “the boss” making dismissive comments and giving her side-eye over absences to do with child-care and medical care. It was disappointingly real, and rather than endure more of that bullshit, I left for the day.

In my dream I struggled with my car seeming to go “too slow” – like, really slow. No traffic, it just went slower than I expected. At some point I noticed I wasn’t driving my car – I had taken someone’s scooter by mistake?! Weird. I don’t ride a scooter, never have. I found myself lost on what should have been a familiar route home and began to worry that I might be sufficiently late to worry my Traveling Partner. I called home and tried to explain about the terrible day, the mistake taking the wrong vehicle, getting lost along the way, and how I ended up in a strange town with a familiar name, but where nothing at all looked the same – and no gps. I was on foot by then, near an elegant restaurant, where I had parked the scooter planning to call the colleague whose vehicle that was to explain what had happened. I couldn’t reach her. I woke with a start, and realized I was dreaming, and looked around me to take stock of where I was.

I walked on, unaware that I was still dreaming. Everything around me was destruction and chaos. Desert (and deserted) communities flattened by warfare, all the way to the distant horizon. Pinkish-beige desert sands and remnants of stone buildings, and an eering silence broken by suspicious sounds of things scurrying unseen, and I walked on feeling a strong sense of dread and sorrow. A man approached me suspicious and angry, demanding that I identify myself, as I clearly wasn’t from around there. He refused to give me directions – or hope or reassurance. I kept walking. I was approached by another man, aged and twisted, who demanded I turn over my credit cards. He was pointing some kind of weapon at me. I burst into tears claiming not to have any credit cards, and starting to tell him all about my terrible day, which he clearly had no time for. He let me walk on rather than deal with my emotional bullshit.

I wandered into some sort of town-ish area, noodle shops and small restaurants, decorated with banners and signs in a language I did not understand, just opening at dusk, lights filling the cramped narrow streets. Cobblestones? I continued toward what looked like a main avenue, maybe somewhere familiar? I saw a road sign suggesting the freeway was somewhere ahead. I saw a lovely peculiar park, filled with irregular steps leading down into a verdant lush garden, with a small lake, candles everywhere. No leaves on the trees – winter? I tried to take a picture (to share with you) unaware that I was dreaming. I couldn’t get it to turn out, from any of the angles I tried. I turned to find my Traveling Partner arriving to help me find my way home. I felt incredibly reassured to have him by my side, and started to tell him about my strange day… He laughed, and held me close and wispered in my ear “you’re only dreaming, Baby, and it’s time to wake up, time to begin again…”

I woke from my peculiar dream, still not quite sure which was the more real circumstance… the here, now, or the dream? I went through my morning routine in a most routine way, and the commute was quite relaxed and there wasn’t any traffic; I’d hit the quiet pocket between batches of commuters rushing along on their usual timing, perhaps. The office is cold and quiet. My calendar is waiting for me – no surprises. Real life feels quite ordinary, and looking beyond the window, I see my car parked in the usual place. No scooter. No “mean girls”. My head aches ferociously – also quite ordinary and routine. A new day dawning, a chance to begin again. I sip my coffee grateful that I am not surrounded by the detritus and aftermath of war, but dismayed that this isn’t true everywhere, for everyone. There are whole communities left in rubble, unlivable, destroyed, and people struggling to survive there, any way they can. Those places just don’t happen to be here. Not yet. Maybe not ever (I can hope to be so fortunate, but I don’t think I can count on that).

Strange dream, I think to myself, reflecting on the details and wondering what I might learn from it. Am I trying to tell myself something, or was my brain just “taking out the trash” as I slept? I often wonder about dreams. I breathe, exhale, relax, and take a moment for gratitude and self-reflection before I begin the day in earnest. I have choices ahead of me. I hope to make only the most wise, most ethical, and most helpful choices I can – and to contribute in some small way to truly making the world a better place for everyone who lives in it. We’re all in this together, in spite of each having our own experience. I can do better than I sometimes have. I can begin again.

…So can you. It’s time to wake up.

I’m groggy. I slept less than ideally well. The commute into the office was… fine. Traffic was heavy, and seemed peculiarly fast. I felt like I was running late (I wasn’t) and my timing even now feels a bit “off”. It’s less than ideal, just generally. I feel mostly comfortable in my skin, although I’m having to work to manage the pain I’m in this morning. It’s okay. It could be worse. My Traveling Partner woke me around 2:00 a.m., annoyed to be awake and letting me know that. I admit it, I was aggravated about being awakened (particularly since I wasn’t having the best night as it was, myself), but he was a super sweetheart 100% after that moment of annoyance, and it was lovely to see him before I left for work. The annoying moment and being awakened at 2:00 a.m. was less than ideal… but… in the grander scheme of things, it doesn’t amount to much.

…It’s just that kind of day…

Life is a funny mix of ups and downs, trauma and achievement, healing and hurting, convenience and inconvenience, ease and difficulty… and a day or moment that is “less than ideal” may still be pretty fucking fantastic in most regards, and surely isn’t “bad”. It’s pretty easy to overlook where “less than ideal” actually fits on a curve… think about it. “Less than ideal” is basically everything that isn’t “ideal” a characteristic that can be applied to damned few things. “Ideal” is perhaps not quite “perfect” (and nothing actually is, although some things may seem to get close)…so… “less than ideal”? Yeah, very little of that is going to actually be “bad”. Mostly it’ll end up being pretty fine, and generally okay. Something to think about. Perspective is funny that way.

…I’m still super groggy…

I sip my coffee sort of dragging myself through the morning. I look at my to-do list for today, and I’m surprised that I’ve knocked off easily a third of what I had planned for today, and I’ve only been at it a couple hours. The plan is not the experience. The map is not the world. The “less than ideal” sense of things is not an indication of success or failure – it’s just a feeling. 😀

I guess I’ll make another cup of coffee and begin again.

I am sipping my coffee and waking up from a deeply restful, rare, uninterrupted night of actual sleep. I woke befuddled when the lights slowly came up (silent alarm clock). I felt disoriented, and uncertain why I was waking up…? It took me a minute to “place myself” in the context of day, date, and time.

I managed to get dressed and out the door without crashing into something or dropping something, or making a ton of noise; this surprises me. I’m grateful though – it likely means my Traveling Partner also got to sleep without being wakened by my departure.

I sat down at my desk with my coffee this morning without much thought about what to write. My thoughts were still filled with fragments of dreams, scattered about, disorganized, and fairly random seeming. I found myself beginning with those pieces… like a jigsaw puzzle. Individually they don’t amount to much, just the many details of a life being lived, you know? Assembled into a coherent whole, they begin to form a picture of this human being that I am in the context of this life, this location, and this moment in time.

…so many little details…

Like… I tried out my newest batch of shower steamers yesterday. Pleasant. Here’s a thing I noticed about both batches, though; the scent is a bit too subtle and understated (for me). I ended up doing a bit more homework trying to find something more measured and specific for the amount of fragrance needed than “X many drops“. Are they kidding with that shit? We’re grown folks here, I can take it; give it to me in fucking milliliters, please!? 0_o LOL I finally found a source with a clear measure; I was using about a third what I actually needed. Well. That explains a lot. lol

…I’m a human being still learning things. I hope I always will be…

Then there’s also my continued efforts to lose some excess weight, and regain some lost fitness. I’ve been logging my steps. Logging my meals. Logging my sleep. It’s not much effort; my wearable does a lot of it for me. There really are a lot of verbs involved nonetheless… I tend to enjoy “easy” when I can find it, though, and that sometimes results in far too little actual effort exerted than would be wise (seeing how I’d like to be fitter). I keep resetting and beginning again, and I keep making slow progress. Faster progress would be sweet to see, but the slow gains are more likely to be ones I can hold on to for the long-term. Again and again, I look my frustrations in the face and remind myself that incremental change over time can be … super slow.

…I’m a human being still trying, and still working out how to get things done…

I’m starting to feel more confident and secure in my new job. It’s good to feel more “settled in” and comfortable. Making a change of career so late in life feels a bit… awkward. Unsettling. Scary? Maybe scary, yeah. Feels good, too – more to learn, more opportunities to grow. New skills developing. New understandings of things I hadn’t previously been exposed to. It’s pretty wonderful in some respects. I sip my coffee and smile; it felt right at the time, and it feels right, now. 😀

…I’m a human being willing to change…

Being back in therapy has been good for me. It’s given me a sort of “safety net” for dealing with deeper traumas, and for talking over shit that’s on my mind that would only serve to disrupt the harmony of my relationship to bring it up casually along the course of a day. My Traveling Partner is not (and cannot be) my therapist.

…I’m a human being willing to seek the help I need…

I remember the leftovers in the fridge from dinner last night; I’d planned to have those for lunch today. I forgot to grab that container on my way out this morning. LOL

…I’m a human being, being human…

I smile and yawn, and sip my coffee. I feel contented on a Tuesday, and filled with a certain hopefulness. Feels good. It’s a nice starting point from which to begin again. 😀

…Don’t forget to make time to appreciate the small things that make you who you are on the journey to become the person you most want to be; it’s a nice way to begin a day.