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Love Letter

April 27, 2023 //
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The world is often a crazy, chaotic, terrifying place, it seems. Sometimes the sorrows and frustrations outnumber the fleeting moments of happiness… maybe… mostly? It can sure seem that way. This journey called life is strange and sometimes strained by the challenges of our circumstances, or just the very human nature of our very human selves. It isn’t often an “easy” experience, at all. This morning, though? I am sipping my coffee, smiling, and thinking about love. Not “I love my coffee” love. Not “I love my job” love. Not even “I love my family and my friends” love. I am thinking about that heartfelt, gut-churning, butterflies-in-my-stomach launching, sweating, mind-altering, mood-enhancing, exciting, exotic, mundane, routine, spectacular romantic love that (if we’re fortunate) we may have the opportunity to enjoy at some point in our adult lifetime. If we’re particularly self-aware, and very skilled with our judgement of character, we may even recognize it while it is happening. 😀 A rare few may enjoy it more than once in their lifetime.

“Life Sparkles (with the love we feel)” 11″ x 14″ acrylic on canvas w/glow and glitter 2018

…I’m sipping my coffee thinking about love. The love I share with my Traveling Partner (on life’s journey). This is an amazing relationship. No, we’re not perfect people. We fuss at each other now and then. Having met each other later in our adult lives, we sometimes forget that the other has lived an entire life before the point at which we met, bringing skills, memories, and anecdotes of times we did not share to this relationship. I feel fortunate that we were friends before we were lovers. Lovers (and flat mates) before we married. This is a relationship built on a firm foundation, based on shared values and shared goals, but also on affectionate respect and consideration for each other’s individual qualities that make us so different. Why go on about it? Because it’s out there. There is love aplenty in the world. There are verbs involved… No doubt results will vary.

“Communion” 24″ x 36″ acrylic on canvas w/ceramic details 2010

I’m counting down the days, now. 4 days, as it happens. In 4 days we celebrate our 12 anniversary married. 4382 days married. Worth celebrating. 12 years of fairly steady forward momentum on this journey together. My Traveling Partner is truly a partner worthy of spending a lifetime with; he lifts me up, he challenges my expectations, he encourages (and demands) my best, he demonstrates his enduring love for me every day, he sparks a fire in my heart that burns bright. Sometimes he frustrates me. That doesn’t limit my affection for him. Sometimes he tests my patience. That doesn’t diminish my love. We’re very human. We love in a very human way – that just makes sense. 🙂

Be love. It’s a choice. Love is a verb.

It’s nice to sit and sip my coffee thinking about love. To sit and ask the question “is this where I want to be?” and “is this love good for me?” and know with effortless certainty that I am, and it is. I hope he feels our love with similar confidence. I fucking love that guy. 😀

Sharing the love, and sharing the building.

No idea what the weekend holds; we’ve changed our plans a couple times already. All that matters, really, is to enjoy it together. 🙂

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Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, inspiration, Love, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, Spring, The Art of Being

So Many Choices!

April 24, 2023 //
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I am sipping flavored water this morning. I had my coffee on the commute into the office. It’s a Monday, and these days I rarely go into the office on a Monday, but I woke to a reminder from the VA about an appointment today that I had managed to memorize correctly for the date, but somehow thought that would be on Wednesday. It is not. It is today. LOL So I quickly adjusted my intentions, and hit the road for the morning commute. I expected it would be tedious… but… apparently I’m not alone in not going into an office on Mondays; there was almost no traffic at all.

I am thinking about the weekend, and the time spent planning future getaways with my Traveling Partner. The truck has us both fired up and eager to explore corners of favorite places and new destinations previously unreachable in his sedan, or in my Mazda. We have hours long conversations about camp kitchens, roof-top tents, jet-boil stoves vs all the other sorts, the necessity or luxury of taking a portable toilet, and does it make sense to have a solar generator and a fridge, or is that just ridiculous? There are so many options to choose from, so many approaches to overlanding, camping, hiking, from the gear to the routes to take, to the destinations near and far that we might want to see. It’s a pleasant way to pass time together, talking about the options and our choices, and whether we can tackle them now, or whether they go on a list for future purchases – or is there some other way we can do that thing in a less costly more personalized way, using our skills, time, and materials on hand? I’m getting to know a whole new side of my Traveling Partner – it’s very exciting.

I spent much of my weekend in the garden. Planting alyssum for future mounds of fragrant ground-covering flowers. Putting up a trellis for the peas. “Encouraging” the blueberries and the roses with oohs and aahs of delight that they are doing so well, already. Checking to see if the neighbor’s cat is staying out of the vegetables now that I’ve put that cat-deterring spikey-matt down here and there. Weeding out dandelions from the flower beds and the small bit of lawn we’ve got. (So many dandelions!) It was a lovely weekend. Time well-spent.

The real point here isn’t that I had a great weekend spent in excellent company. The point is that I had choices. A lot of choices. I chose to enjoy the weekend in spite of the pain I was in on Friday evening, and much of Saturday. I chose to go hither and thither with my Traveling Partner for occasional errands (I could have stayed home). I chose to garden. Together we chose to put time into figuring out what we really want of our leisure time – and how we can make that happen most easily. Oh, for sure, sometimes I let myself bob around like a cork on the ocean, and circumstances or the whims of my partner made the decisions for me… nonetheless, even taking that approach is making a choice. There is so much that is truly within our control through our power to choose. 🙂

I think I’m saying “don’t choose to be miserable then wonder why you are miserable; choose differently if you want a different experience”. Misery is sometimes kind of an “easy way out”, isn’t it? There are verbs involved in escaping misery. Results will vary. We become what we practice, though… so… keeping practicing? Choose something different? Begin again?

Choices are not always “simple” or “easy”. Outcomes are not guaranteed. We do have an astonishing number of choices, though…

I guess I’ll begin again. 😀

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Spring, The Art of Being

The Clock is Ticking

March 30, 2023 //
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The sound of a ticking clock used to really cause me stress, for a younger me that was most especially true of the steady thunk of grandfather clocks during the wee hours, when I could not sleep. I would lay awake painfully aware that the minutes of my life were… passing. It was a poor choice to focus on the sound of the ticking of clocks when plagued by insomnia, but that’s who I was then, and there seemed to be ticking clocks nearly everywhere. I’m not so hung up on time, these days, and the sound of a ticking clock doesn’t bother me at all. Progress can be measured in some very peculiar ways. lol

My coffee is good. The day is off to an excellent start. My Traveling Partner was already up when I got up this morning, and we enjoyed our first cup of coffee together, which was lovely. I arrived at the co-work space at about the usual time, which made the choice to slow down and have coffee together ideal; it didn’t change the rest of my routine or plan for the day at all. 😀

I feel good. I sit with that for a few minutes… It’s not that I don’t have any physical pain, it’s more that it just doesn’t matter right now. I feel calm and centered. I feel infused with a certain soft contented joy. I feel… relaxed. It’s very pleasant. I find that it isn’t necessarily a useful mindset for writing; I am content with sitting here watching my thoughts drift by. lol So… I do that for a little while, without concern or shame. It’s a short enough life already – I think I’ll enjoy it the way I enjoy it, and be okay with that. 😀

Spring is definitely here. The morning is mild, and in the mid-40s about 6 degrees Celsius. I am thinking eagerly about getting the new blueberry bushes into the ground.

Waiting to be planted.

There’s preparatory work to do, to get the beds ready for the new shrubs. I’m okay with that – a lot of life works that way; we benefit from planning, and also from preparation. Those are both useful for getting the best possible outcome.

I think over the morning, and the day ahead. I remind myself of a couple of errands I plan to run later, and take a look at my calendar for lunch timing – looks like a good day go home for lunch with my Traveling Partner. 😀 What a splendid day so far… I smile and sip my coffee, and get ready to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, Healthy Living, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Spring

What It Looks Like, What It Is

March 22, 2023 //
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Appearances are funny things, aren’t they? I’m sipping my morning coffee late into the morning, because, honestly, why not? I am “on vacation”, taking some solo time on the coast to meditate, reflect, read, write, and walk. I’ve gotten some good pictures.

I am, in this moment right here, watching the tide turn from the low a short while ago, reversing direction, and now flowing back, with high tide expected at 13:48 this afternoon. Low tide reveals the mud flats of Siletz Bay, enjoyed by the many sea birds that inhabit the area. The birds traverse the mud flats in flocks and individually, seeking tasty morsels in the mud. People watching the birds (and the tides) walk the adjacent beach (and in some cases, right on across the mud flats, too), sometimes alone, sometimes with children or dogs.

Siletz Bay at low tide.

Funny that the water of the nearby branch of Drift Creek seems to flow backwards as the tide turns. Instead of subtle waves that demonstrate the direction that the creek flows into the bay, then on to the ocean just beyond (visible from my balcony), now the waves suggest that the water is flowing upstream… and… I guess it is, at least in the sense that the tide has turned and is now returning the waters to the bay that flowed outward only a few hours ago. My eyes deceive me just a bit; intellectually, I am confident that the creek continues to flow into the bay, and on to the sea, I just can’t see that it is happening, due to tricks of the light on the surface of the water showing me only the most surface movement, which is definitely the tide coming in.

What is “the truth of it”? Well, the bay is refilling as the tide comes in. That’s true. The creek continues to flow from it’s source into the sea. Also true. The tide comes in, the tide goes out, in a very regular predictable way – another truth. I value these small points of certainty in a very uncertain world. Ducks, geese, gulls, herons, and cranes enjoy the shallow waters. I enjoy them as they do. It feels rather as if even the joy itself …flows.

It’s been a lovely couple of quiet days here alone at the beach. This funny somewhat run-down hotel I favor here gives me the room for solitude that I need. They’re very accommodating and appreciative any time I come for a stay. This room is my “new favorite”… Room 310. It’s long past its glory. The upholstery is faded, worn, and dingy – threadbare in places, and of a tired sort of green that doesn’t hide dirt well. The carpet is also worn. The wood furniture is chipped, dinged, and shows signs of age and mistreatment over many years of guests. The walls have been repaired in places, and there are places on the ceiling that hint at past flooding from above. It’s a funny room with a wedge-shaped layout that is a bit more spacious than most rooms here. The small bathroom reflected the care taken by the staff; so clean it almost seems to belong in some other hotel, newer, more modern, perhaps. I feel lucky that the mini-fridge is not noisy (they usually are). This room also has “more view”, with one big window facing the bay, and then the balcony facing the ocean. Lovely. The views are spectacular and have occupied my attention thoroughly.

My days are filled with walking the beach here at the foot of the hotel, and sitting on the balcony, or at the table by the window, meditating, and bird-watching. My head is filled with my own thoughts – and the quiet of wind and waves, and the calls of gulls filling the silence. Pleasant. I could come here often and never get bored. I don’t need much more out of this experience than I am getting; it’s the solitude that I was seeking, and I definitely found it here.

I could have written more. Didn’t. I’ve been content to spend the days in quiet reflection, absorbed in my own thoughts, on my own time. It’s been enough. More than enough; it’s what I needed.

I watch the water continue to slowly fill the bay as the tide comes in. The pattern of sand, mud, water, and waves changes with each tide. It’s interesting to watch, and to note the variations. I find myself wondering, if I sat here by this window watching long enough, would I see the pattern repeat at some point? Are the variations finite? As the bay fills, I see seals in the deeper areas, playfully enjoying a swim. There’s a sandy bar on which they gather to rest and soak up the sun, across the inlet to the bay from the beach where local fishers like to go. The seals and gulls compete with the fishers for the various fish and crabs that are so desirable. It’s a popular spot. Early in the mornings, I walk down the beach in the direction of the inlet, and the ocean, listening to the waves roll in. In the afternoons, I take the same (or similar) walk. It’s convenient to the hotel, and the variety that comes of weather and the passage of time is enough to entertain me endlessly. I’m certainly a long way from being at all concerned about “boredom”. lol

The ocean, visible just beyond the inlet to the bay.

…Tomorrow I return home…

…For now, there’s still today.

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

Getting Real About the Real-Real

March 18, 2023 //
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It’s an okay morning. Saturday. Good cup of coffee. Had a pleasant frosty-morning walk through bare wintry vineyards as the sun rose, this morning. Returned home once my Traveling Partner pinged me that he was awake and starting his day. Could be that was a mistake (in timing)… I rushed home rather eagerly, to enjoy the day with my partner, and I may have been working from expectations and assumptions that were a poor fit to the reality of the morning.

I got home and he was just making his first cup of coffee, immersed in the emotional experience of being angry about the condition in which parts had arrived, and the likelihood that the parts he had ordered are not in any way actually usable for the order he is working on. His anger over the situation seems reasonable. He shares his feelings. He shows me the parts. His anger is evident, and he is actively working through it. (The way out is through…and…we become what we practice. Hold that thought.)

…I have difficulties with anger, particularly the expressed anger of male human beings with whom I am in a relationship (it feels uniquely terrifying and threatening even when only expressed verbally), and it makes it sometimes very difficult to endure the experience of being in proximity to that visceral emotional experience in the moment… It could be that this alone makes me potentially unsuitable for long-term partnership. I find myself thinking about that today. Today, my partner explicitly challenged my overall value as his partner due to my “lack of ability to be emotionally supportive”.

My sense of things is that I listened with consideration, compassion, and care for some length of time while he vented his feelings (my watch suggests about 40 minutes, but I don’t think that matters as much as that he didn’t feel supported). Maybe I don’t really understand what my partner needs from me when he’s angry about something? Listening doesn’t seem to be it. Even listening deeply and offering support, or asking how I can be helpful (if I can at all), doesn’t seem to meet the need. Commiserating with his position doesn’t seem to meet the need, and often seems to prolong the intensity of the emotional storm. Attempting to “be helpful” or offer any “troubleshooting” perspective is usually unwelcome (and most of the time I don’t have the specific expertise to offer that in the first place). It’s often been my experience that eventually, however supportive I am seeking to be, one common outcome is that at some point, the anger that is “not about me”… becomes about me. Terrifying, even in a relationship where there has never been any violence. The anger feels threatening. This is a byproduct of violence-related trauma in prior relationships. Decades later, I’m still struggling with this. It seems unfair to my current (or future) partner(s).

When a person with PTSD embarks on making a relationship with another human being who also has PTSD (or similar concerns), there are some additional complications that sometimes make living well and harmoniously together more than a little difficult to do successfully – and it’s less than ideally easy, no matter how much we may love each other. Sometimes love is not enough. Maybe that seems obvious? It probably should be obvious. I sit with that thought for a few minutes, uncertain what it is really telling me. Maybe nothing new. I mean… I know, right? It’s hard sometimes. (“This too will pass.”)

…Resilience is a measure of our ability to “bounce back” from stress…

Using meditation and mindfulness practices is one means of building improved resilience. Resilience lets me “bounce back” from stress more easily, and allows for greater “ease” in dealing with stress in the moment. Resilience supports improved intimacy. Resilience along with non-attachment is a good means of learning not to take things personally. Resilience makes some practices produce better results – “listening deeply” can be incredibly difficult and emotionally draining without resilience, for example. Resilience is like a glass of water, though; once the glass is emptied, no amounting of drinking from it will result in slaking thirst. I’ve got to refill the glass. (It’s a wise practice to keep it “topped off”, too; that’s where self-care comes in.)

G’damn, I really need some time away to invest in my own wellness and resilience. Quiet time taking care of the woman in the mirror for a few days, without any other agenda or competing workload. My resilience is depleted. Even “doing my best” is not enough right now – I feel comfortable acknowledging that. Can’t efficiently move forward from one place to another if I don’t recognize where I am right now – and start there. In this particular instance, it is less about physical fatigue than emotional and cognitive fatigue. I’m “brain tired”. I’ve been lax about my meditation practice, and it’s clear how much that does matter. I’ve taken on too much, and can’t seem to dig out in order to get to the practices and experiences that support my wellness; I’m scrambling just to get “all the other shit” done, that seems to have been given a higher priority than my emotional wellness or mental health. I can’t blame anyone else; it’s called “self-care” for a reason. I’ve been giving 100% of what I have to offer to work, to the household, to my partner, and not leaving much “left over” to take care of myself.

I find myself wondering if I would do well to leave for the coast a day earlier. It would probably be good for me. Probably not good for my partner who has been missing me, and potentially feeling un-cared for and lacking an adequate portion of my undivided attention and emotional support. I’ve only got the same 24 hours in a day that everyone else has – and figuring out how to parcel that out is sometimes difficult. I could do better. Seems like everyone needs a piece of me… and the only person who seems ready to yield what they feel is their “due” is… me. Fuck. That’s how I get into this quagmire of cognitive fatigue and emotional fragility in the first place, though. Taking care of myself really needs to be a non-negotiable – at work, at home, and in life, generally. I could do better.

…When I take better care of myself, not only is there “more in my glass” to share with others, the glass even gets bigger and holds still more… and I know this…

We become what we practice. When I practice calm, I become calmer. When I practice good self-care, I become cared-for, resilient, and confident in my worth. When I practice deep listening, I become a better listener more able to “be there” for others. Understanding this is important. It is true of unpleasant emotions, too. If I “practice” losing my shit in a time of stress, I become more prone to being volatile. If I “practice” anger by way of confrontation, venting, or tantrums, I become an angrier person less able to manage that intense emotion appropriately. True for all of us; we become what we practice. How do I become the woman – the person – I most want to be? Sounds like I need to practice being her …and when I fall short? I need to begin again.

I finish my coffee. Breathe. Exhale. Relax. Begin planning the packing and tasks needed to prepare for my trip to the coast. I remind myself to take time to meditate, to check my blood pressure, to stay on time with my medications. It’s a lot to keep track of some days, but the pay off is worth it; I feel better, enjoy my life more, and I am more able to be there for my partner when he needs me. I’ve just got to do the verbs.

Time to begin again. Again. It’s slow going, sometimes, but I do become what I practice.

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, health, Healthy Living, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Spring, The Art of Being, The Big 5, winter, women
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