Archives for posts with tag: we’re all in this together

Sometimes change is hard. Sometimes change arrives rather quickly, and instead of evolving gradually over time, it pulls up out front in a moving van and unpacks over a weekend. 😂

…We managed to get most of the necessary move-in basics handled and the truck returned on time…

Getting the Anxious Adventurer moved in was the priority for the weekend, other than caring for my Traveling Partner, who was effective and handy, supporting various tasks with thoughtful guidance. The whole chaotic endeavor was considerably improved by how we each embraced the circumstances (no doubt each for our own reasons). We’re all in it together and it was obvious.

I’m definitely feeling the strain of the aggressive pace of the weekend’s activity in sore muscles and lingering fatigue. “A new normal” begins with this quiet, pleasant Monday morning. I’ll work from home with much more freedom to focus on work with my Traveling Partner’s son now available to help out, too. Hell, I might have enough left in me at the end of the day to cook a proper meal! There’s more to do, but now it can be handled within the context of the day-to-day living of life, which feels pretty good. I even got to spend some time reading last night!

There’s more to do. The work of adjusting to the changes required is not yet completed. There are boxes to go into storage. Things to change or “fix” about how the household is set up, to be better suited to three people, where there had been only two, before. The living room, though, is no longer filled with the contents of a moving van, and no one is sleeping on the floor. Progress. Today will be my first day working from my completely rearranged office-studio-creative space, which still needs a bit more fine-tuning. I chuckle to myself, still amused and astonished that I managed to move a full-sized couch into such a small room (with the help of the Anxious Adventurer and the guidance of my Traveling Partner giving instructions from down the hall). Funnier still, it manages to be more “cozy” than crowded. It will force me to be quite mindful of the space and keep it very neat, though; there is no room to tolerate clutter. Not one spare square inch of space is left for being careless or messy.

I while away a few minutes thinking about change and wondering when my Traveling Partner’s surgery will be? Scheduling that should happen today. Once we’ve got the date settled, I’ll also schedule some away-time for myself, for a date maybe a couple weeks after the surgery. Damn, it’s good to have the help of the Anxious Adventurer! I feel incredibly grateful and very fortunate. I finally have the emotional “room” to breathe and reflect and consider and exist outside the constraints of holding myself constantly at the ready to handle any/every task, every moment, all of every day… That was a lot of pressure, but I didn’t know how else to handle things.

… I’m so tired…

It’s a new day. A new opportunity to begin again. There’s more to do (nearly always is), but life has “less weight to it” somehow and I feel pretty good, generally. I woke at my usual early time, and I’ve had the trail to myself this morning. I watched the sun rise as I walked, and these quiet minutes to write and reflect don’t feel snatched from the limited time available for everything else that needs doing. It’s nice.

I don’t yet know what the new normal looks like, but I’m on this path and I’ll know soon enough. I stretch and yawn and smile. It’s time to begin again.

Stress complicates things. Letting it go, when I can, makes sense for a lot of reasons. Ruminating about past events that can’t be changed isn’t very helpful. Worrying about future events that have not occurred is also not helpful. Learning from past mistakes and being prepared for future events or decisions are both excellent strategies, though… Finding balance between the extremes is a worthwhile endeavor.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I purposefully let go of my stress. I make a point of not exploring deeply what may be driving it. Honestly, it’s just too easy to make it much worse by giving my thoughts over to it, so instead I focus on here, now, this moment – a very useful practice.

… And anyway, the things that cause human primates stress are pretty commonplace, aren’t they?

I breathe the scents of summer as I sit at the halfway point of this morning’s walk. The air smells like rain and the sky overhead is obscured by dense clouds, dark and stormy gray to the north and east, and a smooth homogeneous wash of paler gray to the south. The sky was a clear mild blue across the western horizon at daybreak, but now it’s a soft neutral gray, too. I listen to birdsong and the sound of traffic on the nearby highway.

…My mind wanders to my to-do list, and my anxiety surges. I’m reminded that my Traveling Partner’s health challenges are worrisome, and I struggle to calm myself, briefly. Life has some difficult moments. I feel fortunate to share many of those with my Traveling Partner. I breathe, exhale, and relax, again. I allow myself to acknowledge the legitimate stress that results from my partner’s injury last fall, and the challenges of getting him a skilled diagnosis and the care he needs. (He’s right; our system is badly broken and it shouldn’t be this hard.) Another breath, another attempt to let the stress go. It’s not particularly helpful to get wound up and angry, or to become mired in frustration, feeling beat down or hopeless. Perspective can be hard to achieve. I keep at it. Practicing.

…Breathe, exhale, relax…

Sitting here, the tallest meadow grasses obscure me from the trail. I watch the grass sway in the gentle breeze. I enjoy the solitude. My tinnitus is loud in my ears. It vexes me, but I get some sense of relief by turning my attention elsewhere, listening to the sounds around me: distant traffic, chirps and birdsong of the early birds, the sound of rustling leaves. Quiet sounds, but audible when I turn my attention to those.

… Breathe, exhale, relax…

My background stress day-to-day has reached a point where my morning walks fuel just about enough resilience to carry me through the day, but rarely further. Nights are sometimes difficult, restless, wakeful, and full of troubling dreams. This time I take for myself is now pretty necessary, just due to circumstances, instead of being a pleasant luxury. My Traveling Partner sees it too, and frequently encourages me to take care of myself as a priority. The challenge is that the whole messy business has a certain “failure is not an option” feel to it that is a major cause of my stress. Yeah… That’s a thing. I sigh out loud, missing my Dear Friend acutely; I would benefit so much from talking all this over with her!

… Breathe, exhale, relax…

Just moments in a lifetime. This too will pass. Change is.

I brush the bits of leaves from where they’ve clung to my jeans, and stand and stretch. There’s a list of things to do and time is short. I turn to the trail, to head back to the car. It’s already time to begin again.

…Unlimited freedom… That sounds so good, right? And here in the United States of America, we have that… right? Nope. Not even close. Get over that shit sooner than later. LOL In the free-est country in the world, no one has “unlimited freedom”, ever, at all. It’s not a thing. We are each and all constrained by the limitations of the laws of our country, by the social contract we live under, by the rules and taboos of society, family, tribe, school, and workplace, and by the non-negotiable realities of, well, reality. lol There is no such thing as “unlimited freedom”. So. Yeah. Let that one go.

This lack of freedom from limitations on our freedom doesn’t have to be a colossal buzz kill, though… in the least free nation in the world, we’ve each still got some freedoms, and some freedom. Fewer than in the most free nation in the world, sure, but… the most important freedoms we each have can not easily be taken from us, as individuals, unless we choose to give them away.

I’m just saying… you can only drive as fast as the cars ahead of you and road conditions permit. You can only spend as much money as you have – or can borrow at a cost. You can only be as comfortable as the resources available to you permit. You can only be as well as your health and available medical care provide. You can only make choices based on the options you are aware of. There are limits. Constraints placed on all of us by reality itself. Those limitations on our freedom are non-negotiable. Fighting that by seeking “unlimited freedom” is … fairly silly. There are more productive uses of your time.

You are free to choose and free to act – and free to bear the consequences of your decisions and actions.

…Why am I even thinking about this? I don’t know. It’s just what happened to be stirred up in my thoughts this morning. I am sipping my coffee, pretending to be free of pain, watching the rain fall… and thinking about the rather ridiculous notion of “unlimited freedom”. We’ve each got “freedom up to a point” to work with, and it’s rather a lot (depending on geography and lines on a map) – but it’s for sure not “unlimited”.

I’m free to pretend to be free of pain… I’m fortunate to have prescription pain relief available, and it helps but doesn’t remove my pain entirely. So… How “free” am I? I mean… I have the freedom to choose whether to make my pain the center of my day. I have the freedom to choose what steps I take to manage my pain and to seek relief. The outcome isn’t so much in my hands; reality will have its say. Nonnegotiable. So. I’m in pain. It’s a rainy day and my arthritis is griefing me hardcore. It thoroughly sucks. But… I’m still free to choose not to make it the center of my day, to go on and do what I can with what I’ve got, and enjoy this moment, and the next, and maybe the entire day. That “freedom of choice” thing? That’s a big deal. It’s powerful. What we do with it has a lot to do with what our experience feels like – and how much “freedom” we feel we do have.

…Choose wisely…

I sit watching the rain fall. (I’m free to do so.) I sip my coffee. I think my thoughts. My mind wanders, I bring it back to the falling rain. I breathe, exhale, relax, and feel background stress I wasn’t fully aware of diminish. A new morning, new day, new beginning… and ahead of me so many small choices to make. There’s freedom in that. In both the new beginning, and in the choices – and there are so many opportunities to begin again, to choose well (or just choose, at all – I’m not telling you how to live your life). If we allow ourselves to tumble through circumstance without making willful considered choices… we’ve still chosen. It’s a wild ride.

What will you do with the time you have, and the freedom you’ve got? What does success look like to you? What options have you got to face what assortment of challenges on the path you’ve taken? Could you choose differently and get a different result? (tl;dr – yes.) Will you? Who even are you, when you are alone with yourself? Rhetorical but important questions… I think about them rather a lot.

How best to be the person I most want to be, living my best life as I understand that…? I sigh and finish my coffee. I guess a good first step is to begin again. 😀 I may not change the world… but I can change my experience. I’m free to do that.

I type the word “pieces” into the title field, and immediately get distracted wondering why it appears to be misspelled. That’s the way of things sometimes, isn’t it? We puzzle over things that are not especially puzzling, mislead by a mistake in our thinking, or an erroneous “observation”. It’s pretty human that we do this – we are imperfect creatures with a persistent notion of being “better than” other creatures in some noteworthy way. lol

My coffee is good this morning. It’s a quiet Saturday. I had planned to sleep in. My Traveling Partner woke me. All good; he woke me sufficiently late in the morning to totally count as having slept in, and truly there is a new day ahead and plenty to do. It was nice to start the day with a few minutes of meditation, then coffee together until the point at which he began finding me less comfortable to hang out with (perhaps due to my fidgeting, or perhaps the pattern of my breathing had become irregular making affinity behaviors uncomfortable, or perhaps nothing really to do with me at all, but nonetheless ascribed to something to do with me). I give him some room to breathe, and take my coffee into the studio.

As soon as I sit down at my desk I feel uplifted and lighthearted; my Traveling Partner built this lovely space for me. Well, I mean – it’s a room in our house, and he outfitted it with this desk, built my computer, and installed the acoustic treatments. So, yeah. He had a lot to do with this space that wraps me in comfort and inspiration. The paintings on the walls are mine. I am surrounded by things that encourage and delight me. It’s an important space in my home – and in my experience. A piece of a bigger puzzle.

There are so many “pieces” in being this human primate that I am. My love of writing. My compulsion to do so. My willingness to share it. My fondness for my partner. My delight in this home. The enjoyment I take from the sound of rain. The pleasure I find in a cup of coffee – down to the coffee beans, and the cup itself even. I can spread the pieces out quite far and find value in distant forest trails, paths that wander the edges of a marsh, or suburban sidewalks that meander through neighborhoods filled with other human primates living other lives. I can focus on quite tiny details and find myself in the sensation of bare feet on carpet, deck, or lawn, and the sensation of fabric on skin.

There is so much joy and pleasure to be had in a single human lifetime. It’s easy to overlook all that when things go wrong and when I face challenges. There’s sorrow in this life, too. Pain. Hurt feelings. Lost opportunities. Vast choices such that the mind is overwhelmed and shortcuts just feel… easier. There’s so much to learn, and so many things to fail at before mastering anything at all. In years that I have focused too much on the difficulties, the joy in my life was diminished and life was dismal. In years when I have focused on hedonistic pleasures with a devil-may-care disregard for any moment but “now”, I’ve failed to grow as a human being – and also somehow failed to thrive. I find it a peculiar balancing act to find a comfortable middle ground, somehow settling on seeking calm, contentment, and joy – without “chasing” happiness. It seems to come to me often enough when I take this approach, though, so… I’m good with it. 🙂

I’m rarely deeply unhappy anymore. It’s been a long journey. It’s not over. I still struggle with the hardships I face. I still have challenges and fight the internal battles with my personal demons daily. It’s a worthwhile endeavor – and the conviction that this is the case is one major victory among many. I’ve come so far! Sure, I still have some rough days. Still struggle to get adequate restful sleep. Still have nightmares. Still have this headache, and this arthritis. Still deal with lasting effects of early life trauma, my TBI, my PTSD – but what a difference it has made to select my partnership(s) with more care, and to properly take care of myself! Meditation has proven to be a long-term value. Simple health-improving steps have also “given back” more than it feels like I have had to put in. Totally worth the “effort” to drink more water, to take my medications on time, to eat a calorie-and-portion managed nutritious diet, and get more exercise. Hell, those things are working out so well, I’m motivated to “do more better” and take things further. I keep practicing.

Nothing fancy or particularly unusual about today. It’s just another day. A sunny weekend Saturday with no explicit agenda unfolds ahead of me. Where will my path lead? If it’s not too chilly, it might be a good day to do some garden prep and tidy up spaces for Spring… Certainly looks like a lovely one to get a nice walk in, too. Maybe I’ll paint? I could work on my manuscript. I could bake some cookies, or finish tidying up and reorganizing the library (which is also our guest room, and presently a bit cluttered). What I do with the time is actually less important than that I do something, and that I treat myself and my partner well. The quality of the experience matters to the outcomes. I reflect on that and sip my coffee.

It’s a lovely day to begin again. What will I do with it?

I mean, seriously though? I could use a real break. A break from the pandemic, and all the inconveniences, hassles, and stress of it. A break from being on lockdown with the too-often-strained-by-circumstances companionship of my partner. A break from work. A break from housekeeping. A break from well-intended reminders and critical feedback of all kinds. A break from the noise and bother of “the world”. A break from strong emotion – mine, and everyone else’s, too. I’d like a real, proper, restful, wholly recharging, legitimate break, please.

…I am silently “screaming into the void” on this one. It’s not that the need for a restful break from whatever-the-fuck is unreasonable, it’s just that getting that break is entirely on me, myself. To make or find the time? That’s on me. To create the conditions? Again, all on me. To set and manage boundaries considerately and explicitly? Again, that’s mine to do for myself. I am certainly feeling the strain of prolonged fatigue and day-to-day frustrations with pandemic life, and occasionally very poor self-care.

I write a bunch more very specific, petty, cross, bad-tempered, resentful words about small, petty, trivial humans-being-human crap. I delete it. I write a bunch more and delete that too – not because the words hold no truths, but because the truths they appear to hold are filtered through so much baggage and bullshit that the actual worthwhile truths are hidden, and I need a break from that, too. I breathe. Exhale. Relax. I take a minute to look at things differently. I work on taking shit less personally, while also accepting that I have no control over how personally anyone else may take things, and being mindful that our individual experiences as individuals are quite separate, even as we’re “all in this together”. No two human beings ever really see the world quite the same way, and even in the moment, in a shared experience… and in a sense we each walk a very different path. Alone. That’s not a sorrowful thing, it’s just a thing. Maybe I can find my much-needed break somewhere within that understanding of separateness…

…I mean to say, maybe it’s not the circumstances weighing me down so much as my attachment to some element of them? A moment…and outcome… an expectation? Maybe a misplaced assumption? I breathe. Exhale. Relax. I let go of everything that is not this moment, now, me, here. This room. This text editor. This open window and the fence beyond, lit by the morning sunshine. Now.

I breathe, and focus on my breath. I let the slamming and banging of my partner doing housekeeping tasks on the other side of the house recede into the background, and listen to the sounds of rain falling through my headphones. I breathe and make room for gratitude – it’s no small thing to have a partner willing to do housekeeping, and eager to maintain a nice home, and good quality of life together. It’s helpful to have reminders on things I commonly forget or overlook, even though it can be uncomfortable, awkward, or embarrassing to need them. (It’s got to be uncomfortable to provide them, too.) I breathe and let go of baggage I’m lugging around that is to do with work; my last day is tomorrow. I let that go, too. Inhale. Exhale. Repeat. I sit comfortably upright in my chair, and let my shoulders relax. The cold fresh air coming in through the open window already smells of spring. I breathe, inhaling deeply. I smile, exhaling my entire breath.

…These spreadsheets won’t update themselves. It’s already time to begin again.

*Moments later, my partner asks me to come take a look at what he’s gotten done. Spotless, beautifully organized kitchen, broad ready-to-go counter space for food prep. I feel appreciated and loved. He appears to have taken note of how I work in the kitchen, when I’m cooking, moving some things from one place to another, better-suited to my needs. I feel heard. I listen while he explains what the changes are, and why, and asks me to help out maintaining it and keeping things tidy. All reasonable. He asks that I explicitly ask for help if I am falling behind on housekeeping I expect to handle myself, and let him actually help me instead of trying to do it all. I suck at that – I want to do “all the things”, and demonstrate that I can… but who I am trying to prove that to? Is that even, ever, realistic? Doesn’t that approach also undermine our partnership by robbing him of the opportunity to work with me, alongside me, cooperatively? Together. It’s different than alone. lol I look around the kitchen again, and thank him for the work he’s done. I head back to the practical matter of work (as in “the job”) feeling very fortunate indeed…