Archives for posts with tag: walk on

Well damn. I guess I’m a real grown-up… 6 days to my 60th birthday. Wild. In spite of some hard living, some hardships, some trauma, some misadventure… I am standing in this place, considering this milestone birthday ahead of me. Wow. I mean, I legitimately did not expect that making it this far was ever a given. Wasn’t at all sure I would… but here I am. 😀

My Traveling Partner and I have plans to camp for a few days. Really getting away, out into the trees, away from the traffic, the stress, the work, the world… the people. I know that I, personally, really need a break from “everything”. Just for a minute. A few quiet hours. Some distance. A different view. A new perspective. A moment of my life that isn’t in any way whatsoever about working, earning a living, maintaining a household… just fresh air, soft breezes, sunshine, and birdsong. Maybe the occasional passing shower. 🙂 I already know my results will vary, and that the plan is not the experience, and neither is the map the world. So. There’s that.

…No idea what the days ahead will really be like, I just know I’m looking forward to logging out of my work tools, and locking the door of the house behind us as we leave for a few days. 😀 (Will I write? Maybe, but I won’t have a cell signal, and my words will be ink on paper, for later – I’m also going equipped to paint in watercolor, and I’m taking my camera of course. My Traveling Partner is taking along a couple of good books, and his fishing tackle.)

Slow days ahead. I’m eager to embrace that, without giving a thought to what may be “on the other side” – we’ll see when we get there, eh?

In the meantime, there are flowers in the garden, and sunny days in the forecast. The weather is lovely and mild, summery and warm without being unpleasantly scorching hot, generally. Life (and love) feel good. I’m not rushing through that feeling, either; I’m making a point to slow down and savor it, as much as I can, as often as I notice how very pleasant things seem to be, presently. Quiet reflection is a worthwhile use of my time, particularly when my thoughts feel infused with soft joy and contentment. I smile thinking of my Traveling Partner; he’s also eager to get out on the road. The truck is already packed of all but a handful of last minute items (my camera bag, food…).

I catch myself in a fit of sneezing – seasonal allergies. Fucking hell, where are those tissues…?? It reminds me to check the tracking on my inbound prescription refills… will they be here in time…? Looks like they will, and I find myself feeling relieved about that. One less thing that could cause background stress while I’m earnestly working to rest my busy mind. 😀

Well, damn… looks like time to begin again. 😀 If I don’t talk to you before I leave… I’ll drop a note right here when I get back. 😀

Memorial Day is sometimes a hard one (for me). The days leading up to it this year were particularly difficult, though I don’t really have a reason why. I’ve lost a few folks over the years. That will never not be true in my life; once we lose the first one, it’s all “more” from there. Spent some time over the weekend reflecting on those losses, and those people. I spent the time with my Traveling Partner, and it was a very healing time we managed to share. I’m grateful.

Losses are hard. We feel our own pain most (and worst, generally). Running from it doesn’t change it – the way out is through. The challenge is not getting stalled in the momentary misery of grief.

The weekend was summery, and fairly mild. We got out among the trees. I got out into the garden. We drove beautiful miles and shared deep conversations. I needed that. We both did, I guess, and we’re better for it.

I’m sipping my morning coffee a bit surprised at how poorly I slept last night after a couple days of extraordinarily good sleep, deep and restful… last night my anxiety flared up with the recollection that today is a work day. Silly, but real. I woke numerous times to double-check that my “sunrise alarm” was actually set. It was. Every time I checked. lol It remains true that a few days of healing and emotionally gentle and nourishing time don’t “fix” anxiety. It comes and goes. My results vary. This morning I got up and managed to start the day without taking it personally or escalating it beyond the obvious; it’s disordered, and there is no reason to feed it and give it more energy.

I smile when I think about the weekend, and my Traveling Partner. Good times.

…Time to begin again…

How am I still so fragile? After all this time? Tears come and go. At this point, after days of it, I’m not even sure why. Post-menopause, it “shouldn’t be” hormones… but… I keep fucking about trying to “fix shit” with my body as I age, so… I don’t know. Anything I take to remedy some ailment or condition has potential to fuck with my body’s systems and my emotional balance, so… yeah. I just know the world is too much for me. Just… all of it.

…I keep finding myself weeping and in real emotional pain… but why, for fucks’ sake, why??

…I mean… I guess it’s enough that the world is this messy strange violent circus of nightmares, with an ever-increasing body count. That, by itself, is worth weeping over. I just can’t sustain doing all the fucking crying, by myself. It would make more sense to stop the killing, wouldn’t it? I drink more of this bottle of water sitting next to me. Tears = drink more water. A lot more.

…I have the strange slightly hilarious thought that maybe the water drinking itself is causing the tears somehow. That’s ridiculous, it’s just a passing notion.

My sleep is chronically disturbed and restless, this isn’t new, it’s just… yeah… chronic.

Ping…ping…ping…ping… work pings on my consciousness. My Traveling Partner pings me eager to iron out details for this or that, or share something cool. Ping. Scam calls. Ping. Another email. Ping. An announcement in a Slack thread at work. Ping. A walk-up co-work colleague with a question. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Everyone, everything, seems to want a piece of my attention, or a moment of my time. I feel overwhelmed, but it’s all quite ordinary. There’s nothing to see here.

A long time ago, in another life, a 14 year old me, feeling something similar, packed a small bag, and lacking any notable experience of the world, just sort of … walked away from her home, her family, and her life, headed… nowhere. Away. I didn’t have a plan exactly… I was “going to Florida”. Why? A rock star I was crushing on lived there, and… I don’t know. I thought I needed a destination? I was fortunate; I survived the adventure to return home to commonplace misery. I survived to see adulthood, to go on to survive domestic violence, military service, warfare, trauma… you know, life. I’m almost 60 now. Still holding on.

…Shit… is this about that? I don’t feel any obvious angst over turning 60, specifically, it’s more… the issues hang on right along with me. How much further does this journey go? How many more verbs are there? G’damn it – when can I relax and just fucking be?? I’m so tired…

…Why do I feel so trapped?… Why does this all feel so fucking pointless??

…I’ve got tools. I’ve got verbs. Choices. This isn’t “hopeless”… just hard.

…I’ve just got to begin again. Again.

I’m sipping my coffee from the quiet chaos of the co-work space. It’s much earlier than my work day generally starts, and I’m okay with that; this is my time. My Traveling Partner woke early, feeling less than ideally well. I woke early, too, although I’m not sure why (and it doesn’t really matter). I had planned to work from home. He asked me to work in the co-work space, so he could maybe get some more sleep. Makes sense. Sure, no problem.

…Yesterday, we’d discussed a plan for him to head back out with the truck and camping gear, different route, different locations, maybe leaving Saturday morning. Neither of us expected him to wake up feeling unwell this morning. No idea how that changes the planning, but I’m prepared to roll with it, I suppose. What else can I do besides flex and walk on? 😀 I definitely care more about my partner’s health than I want to insist on some solo time at home! Priorities.

I take another sip of my coffee. Fairly ordinary. I promise myself a better cup of coffee a little later, when the nearby coffee shops begin to open. I find my heart is still with my partner, wishing him well, and hoping he did indeed manage to get more sleep. Nothing quite like the healing power of getting enough rest.

I definitely do find myself yearning for some solo time at home. The thing is, though, there’s the additional need for that time to be available to me without wrecking my partner’s experience to get it. It matters to me that if he hits the road to go camping, he’s doing it with enthusiasm, and joy, and out to have his own good experience, not just accommodating me at his own expense. You know? Reciprocal consideration. He gets it. He’s eager to get out into the wilderness with the truck.

The world is a strange and sometimes vile place. People can be… horrible. I feel safe in my Traveling Partner’s arms, and in his good company. I’m often astonished by how badly people choose to treat each other… sometimes even in the context of relationships one might expect to be characterized by love. Why is that, I wonder? Are we not able to become truly “civilized”? I’m not feeling bitter about it, this morning, just… puzzled. I’m not perfect. I’ve been an absolute bitch more than once, myself. I’ve been a bad friend, a bad partner, or just plain mean. That’s just real. I spend a lot of time reflecting on such things, and seeking to work out how to be a better human being – or even simply the person I most want to be.

I think about the politics of our time, and the repetitive “conditioning” we’re all subjected to by “special interests”, media, and advertisers, and how easily we fail to notice when ideas are being crammed into our thinking by someone with an agenda. I think about the issues of the world…and in the abstract, they almost all seem “solvable”, if only we were willing. Pretty appalling that we readily reject solving some problems if there is any risk that the solution will benefit everyone. What’s up with that bullshit? I take another sip of my now-cold coffee. More questions than answers.

…How can I do better, myself? I can at least work on that…

I let my mind wander awhile. Finish my coffee.

It’s already time to begin again. 🙂

For love or money? Justice or mercy? Kindness or fairness? There are choices to be made, and I make them for myself every day, all sorts of choices large and small, significant and insignificant, major – and trivial. I’m not sure, though, that I am always quite clear on the difference between a choice that is trivial, and one that shapes my life. Part of the experience is simply making a choice in the first place, or choosing to coast on circumstances and the will of others. Yep. Even that is a choice.

I like to think that reason dictates the majority of my choices, but I am aware that what tends to be the case, in fact, is that emotions dictate many of my choices, and they make reason their bitch by insisting on solid rationalizations for why the choice “made sense”. Self-knowledge, and authenticity have rather firmly demanded that I understand the role of emotions in my decision-making with greater clarity, so I play a fun game with myself based on the underlying assumption that emotion is indeed the foundation on which my decision-making it built – then I go looking for the feeling at the heart of some particular choice. (Ideally before I make that decision in some firm way and back it up with actions. lol) In practical terms, I rarely make “important” decisions without a moment to reflect on it, often giving myself at least a day or two to think things over for major potentially life-altering choices.

Would you make all your decisions the same way if you knew with certainty going into it that you were not going to do so based on reason at all, but were quite likely to ‘react’ to circumstances and make your choices based solely on your emotions? Would you be able to make more skillful, wiser decisions that serve your needs more efficiently over time, and with greater life satisfaction, if you simply acknowledge the role emotion plays in your choices in the first place? Would you be more inclined to delay important decisions for moments that were in a specific emotional context to secure a specific (better or wiser) outcome?

“Mastering” my emotions has proven to be so much less about squashing them down, repressing them, controlling them, keeping them within some acceptable boundary defined by someone else, or denying them altogether than it is about embracing them, honoring them, making use of them to enhance my experience, and being more mindful of my needs over time, reflecting on what emotions say about my values and understanding of the world. Emotions are powerful, and they whisper things to me about what I value, and what I need; it’s worth finding the time to listen. It also appears to be a true thing that by giving myself some time to explore (and feel) my emotions, I reduce the likelihood that they will “explode all over the place” creating some sort of drama or messy bullshit emotional vortex that sucks the fun out of life and drags everyone around me into it.

Pro-tip: cultivate practices that limit or reduce your desire (or habit) of “venting” your emotions. Consistent with “we become what we practice” venting, as a practice, tends to make one very good at … venting. It sometimes feels like a relief (thus having the name “venting” as if to release pressure), but the longer term consequences are less than ideal. Practice venting your anger or frustration? You get good at venting anger or frustration – not dealing with it, not skillfully coping with your feelings, not understanding yourself or your experience, and for sure not communicating your emotions skillfully as an adult. Just saying. There are other potentially much more useful (and harmonious) ways of communicating emotions than “venting”. We are not pressure cookers, and likely ought not aspire to be such. lol

I am sipping my coffee on a quiet Tuesday. Payday tasks are handled, and the budget is updated. My Traveling Partner sends me an acknowledging reply. It feels good that all this feels so absolutely ordinary and routine. That reflects enormous progress from the profound anxiety I once felt any time I had to “deal with money”.

The future unfolds ahead of me, and I’m untroubled by my lack of view into events that are not yet. It’s a bit like walking a path through a dense forest that curves regularly; I’ll see what lies ahead a bit at a time, for a very short distance, and the view will change, and change again. That’s fine. There’s plenty to see and do and experience along the way, and it’s worthwhile to engage this moment and be present in it. Another choice that is mine to make. 🙂

…I think I’ll begin again. Perhaps with a second coffee?