100 Days toward a healthier life - Day 7

Goodness.  A week.

I am better today.  Feeling more sick, but with a greatly improved outlook.  Maybe a better attitude, as well, not sure.  But, more hopeful, at any rate.

Breakfast:  2 eggs, over easy; 3 strips of well-done, although not too crisp, bacon, fat blotted off; tiny bowl of fruit, small cubes of cantaloupe, watermelon, 2 slices of some kind of red apple, not the crispy kind and two red grapes.
Lunch:  Pho, with the works, flank, brisket, tendon and tripe; 3 spring rolls; can of diet coke.
Dinner: The spring rolls leftover from lunch.
Lots of water.

Today was morning coffee with my friends.  It began as coffee and maybe someone would have a roll or a muffing or toast or something like that, but it has morphed into actual breakfast.  So, breakfast was at a restaurant, the second time we have been there.

The group likes to try new places.  Some are worth a return visit, some not.  This place, today, is kind of weird.  The staff runs hot and cold and you would think that you could not tell such a thing from only two visits, but apparently if the staff is just weird enough, you really can tell, even on the first visit.

The first time there, I was the first to arrive.  Another woman and I live way south of everyone else, so we get to drive the longest distance.  We live on opposite sides of the county and cannot ride together, but we are always the first to get wherever we are going.  So, I get there and the hostess welcomes me and asks something like how can she help me and I reply that I will be dining with five friends.  She stares at me.  She looks down at her desk/counter.  She looks back up at me and asks, "Do you mean now?"  I mumbled something like, "Ummm, yes."  However, in my head I was saying, "Nah, I was thinking sometime in August, maybe on a Thursday.  And, maybe you could pick me up, because this is a heck of a long way to drive." 

Anyway, she huffed and puffed and tried to blow my house down, but my house was in another county and she failed, which did nothing to improve her mood.  She did, however, lead me to a table that would accommodate five people and said to let her know if all six of us showed up and she would find another chair for us.

Today was slightly better, but just as amusing.  So, anyway, I had this great, hardly carby breakfast and then went shopping for stuff to do with my mentee and stopped in for fat quarters and some other fabric at a friend's store.

Then, I went for pho.  Oh, man, I love that stuff.  A huge bowl of steaming broth that cooks the meats and the extras, pure and unadulterated bliss.  Comfort food of the highest order.  The noodle shop I visited today (one of three that are my favorites) tosses in a couple of perfectly crafted meatballs, fine textured, strangely spiced.  Ahhhh.  Just one more reason to visit Vietnam.

It was too long a time walking and doing and looking and talking to my friend.  She sent me home with a Michael Cox book; I think it is Glass in Time, but I cannot really remember.  I took the book and myself to bed, got 21 pages read, then the drowsing cat beside me drew me into my own nap.  Waking, I felt much better, still do.

Feeling too ill to do much of anything useful, I checked all the computer stuff and one was a link to the Peace Pilgrim.  I read the article Steps Toward Inner Peace.  You know how things come into life, awareness, just when you need them?  This was one of those occasions for me. 

One area with which I have been struggling is one of the older (than me, even!) women for whom I provide social contact.  Actually, I consider her a friend, but that is how our relationship began, gosh, maybe eight years ago.  Wow.  Anyway, she has her own special personality and I have been feeling drained and weary the past dozen or so times I have taken her out.  She does have another friend, and is close to her family, even though they live far away.  They talk on the on the phone and her sons are always sending her photos via their cellphone.

But, I am the one who takes her for most of her shopping, particularly to the mall.  This mall is a near-hour drive from here and the days we do that are long, often ten or twelve hours.  It is great and we have a good time, but the days are just too long and I am guessing that it is because I have not been feeling well for a long time.  I feel stressed just thinking about how a simple lunch turns into an eight hour ordeal. 

I mean, how selfish can I possibly be?  Yeah, that selfish.  However, reading that article, well, it was like a reinforcement of all of the stuff that is important to me, stuff that I have not been practicing very effectively.  Anyway, I called my friend and had the nicest, and shortest, conversation I think that we have ever had, at least since the early days of our friendship.  I had the opportunity to be exactly what she needed.  Man, that feels nice.  We can go to lunch, walking in the mall and get her some groceries tomorrow without me feeling all ashamed of myself.

I am hungry, so I will have a couple of snap pea pods and go to bed, to read and more dozing with the kitty.

I even felt well enough for more guilty pleasure:

And, what the hell is wrong with the label function?

I am practically atingle with happiness

Whilst I still have a load or two of laundry to do, no one has hassled me or given me grief or yelled at me about using the machines today.

If this is not pure, unadulterated bliss, well, I do not know what is.  Were I able to move with comfort, I would be happy-dancing all over the place, but really quiet, like a mouse.  Wee, tiny, little happy-dancing mice.  I would dance with them.  My peeps.

Ah, whatever happens for the other half of this day, I can survive it relatively unscathed because this early part is worth appreciating, seeking out and bringing on the dancing and very blissful little guys with the naked tails. 

To leap, to soar, without a care
Is a blessing of the rarest kind.
Through the air and in my soul,
One to be held in heart and mind

For times less peaceful,
Times less calm and quiet and gay,
When struggles are met
With the strength gathered today

It is life's dance, at least mine
To experience as best I am able.
And gather the soft remembrances
For future times unstable.

Dance, baby, whilst you can.

Maps

I was using Google Maps this morning to find the location and direction to a family thing being held in another state, on the weekend next.

Alongside of the directions, there was the full, continental US map image.  Except for the tolls and the likelihood of encountering road construction, it looks like a nice and easy trip.

I grabbed the little zoom bar and pulled it all the way down so that I could see the whole world.  I swear, that image never fails to thrill me right down to my core.  That teeny place marker, that infinitesimal point where I will be spending a couple of hours on the road, well, it just floors me.

A space on my screen that a gently expanded hand-width covers and I have touched the entire planet.  Rotate my hand approximately 20 degrees and I could hold it in my palm.  It makes me think of how delicate, how fragile and wondrous it is, this place we call home.

Sure, it enthuses me to take care of it.  More than that, it helps me revisit my commitment to making my part of it, that tiny bit at the point of the marker, a better place.  Small things salve my emotions, fuel my desires and make make my behaviors worth performing them.  My tininess reminds me of my connection to every other person, every other living thing.  I am humbled by the shared responsibilities and shames me for my pitiful efforts.

On that map, I am an invisible speck beneath uncounted specks. 

Oh, and I might have lost a friend today.  If it happens, it will make me sad beyond my ability to express how truly sad I will be.  Sometimes friends have to take that risk with each other.  But, I will still be sad.

Better here than there

Mostly because I am trying so hard to be the lighter version of myself.

So, anyway, this is how I feel.

I am a simpleton of the highest...or is it lowest, I cannot ever remember...order, and I have to wonder why anyone really and truly and deep in their own frugal, thrifty, earth-honoring, dedicated to making the planet a better place, higher selves, cares much about this issue.  I get the angst and the sense of feeling proprietary about something that holds great energy for you. I understand the feelings of sorrow and loss when someone wants to take something that you hold dear away from you. 

Sure, there will always be someone who will come along and manifest their puffed-up selves, having lost all perspective about what is important and how good people manifest in the world,  and try to take more than their share, heck even try to take the shares of other people. 

I am a child of the 60s.  I cut my social, political and public teeth on the conflicts of those times.  I lost my innocence there.  Until that war, I believed in so many things, patriotic and practical.  It fucking broke my heart.  It taught me that I have a voice, certainly, but, more importantly, that I have the will and means within me to release the past and move forward in my life  smarter, wiser (yes, they are different), more informed and more determined.

Protest if you are moved to do so.  Standing up for what you believe makes you and your world a better place, but always remember that no one, no entity, no government or legal battle or maneuverings can take your beliefs, your practices, philosophy or standards away from you.  They cannot even, no matter how how they try, take your words.

They are just words and every single one of us is more than that.  Fight this?  Some will, but no matter what happens, no one can take us from this life.  We get to go on and have lives that sustain ourselves, our families, the whole damn world, and all they get is a couple of words.

No big deal.

Babbling

So, anyway, it has been an interesting day here at work.  I am leaving in a few minutes and am not sure what I think about this job or myself, for that matter.

The day began with an unexpected and tricky legal issue.  It involves state government, so no problem with accepting that it was over my head and experience.  However, with a half-dozen telephone calls and meeting some truly kick-ass civil servants along the way, we ended up with personal legal attention for my client.  I love happy endings.

Two no-shows and two walk-ins, back in business, both with very challenging issues.  Cool.

Then, my final client of the day came in.  I was out and waiting for her and I knew, as soon as I saw her looking at me, seeing me, that she was hugely disappointed.  Here I am, the person that her human resources consulting firm mother said that she has to see and all she gets is me.  Old, fat, dumpy, felt valentine (the ones in Joybelle's link, yeah, they are still uber cool and groovy) in my hair (which refused to stay up and out of the way today), walking, barely, with my cane and then we go into one of the study rooms, not even an actual, official office.  Ummm, I know that was what she was expecting because she mentioned it.

Man.

We  did some work, and we made changes that pleased her, but her heart was not in it.  This sort of thing should not bother me.  I know that I do excellent work here.  I know that other community programs are being modeled on what I do and how I do it.  I receive lots of feedback from my clients and the director here. 

I think that what bothers me, and yes, I can intellectualize the crap out of this, is that she could not get past my appearance.  You know, I do not make children run, weeping in fear and my friends think that I am great.  I have lived long enough to get over myself and accept how I look, my body type, my features, my disabilities, everything. 

But, the way I am feeling right now, gosh.  I know that I am being superficial.  Stupid.  Vain.  I have known all of my life that I am not a beauty, not attractive.  So, I am always clean and shiny.  Well-groomed.  I try to have nice posture and walk with as much confidence as it is possible to do with a cane or two. 

Well, I will get over this.  Scarlet and I will have a better day tomorrow.  I cannot please everyone, particularly for those aspects of myself over which I have absolutely no control.  I guess there are some days when you just feel like your existence is a waste of planetary resources.  I think the worst part is actually caring what someone else thinks about how I look.  I think, hell, I do not know what I think.

Simple thoughts

Today was too busy and too full of complicated issues for a simpleton like me.

I had a despair hangover from last evening at the gallery.  Just because you are creative, and we invite you to exhibit with us, well, that does not give you free rein to be a cranky bitch.  But, you cannot tell someone where they can put their artistic temperament and still run a business that deals exclusively with artsy fartsy types.

I went to a craft fair after this morning's coffee get-together.  It is probably the last nice one before the holidays and whilst I rarely buy anything, preferring to make my own crap, they are great fun.  Seeing how other people, especially old babes like me, manifest their creativity is a glorious and wondrous experience.  I simply cannot get enough of it.  One of my never-to-be-manifested-dreams is to provide a safe and supportive place for all of these women to sell their stuff all year round.  The talent out there is stunning, and they are some of the nicest people on the whole damn planet.  Blessings to them all.

Because my sweet and wonderful daughter and her equally adorable husband left within ten minutes of my arrival at her house today, and then I left a mere five minutes after they arrived back home, there were no adults there to witness and then complain because I do not do everything exactly like the resident adults do things.  It is the first visit in a long time where I did not get in trouble for not being a clone, which probably would not have the capability of doing everything exactly like, well...oh, never mind.

The day ended with a small dinner of four of us coffee chickies and two husbands.  One of us is fully into her third year of treatment for cancer.  She is receiving some kind of hospice care and doing quite well.  Tonight she did exceptionally well because she had a big blood transfusion this afternoon.  Even so, she pooped out shortly after dinner and had to go home. 

But, it was so wonderful seeing her out and about and eating well and having a good time.  She even had a nice bowl of ice cream for dessert.  It is all so bittersweet.  I love seeing her, but it is such a struggle to avoid talking about her health, as she chooses to not have it be a part of our conversations or time together.  Her journey, her choices, her rules.  It is enough.

No one believes that I am really taking a break from life for a while.  You know, I am sorry that this retirement from just about everything is taking place during these fall and winter holidays, but this is the appropriate time to do this.  It feels very surreal.  Everyone thinks that I will be attending all of the parties, open-houses and actual holidays.  Even my lovely daughter's lovely husband asked me this afternoon when we would be getting together for Yule.  My simple reply was that I am taking a break from holidays for a while.  Whilst no one wants to actually discuss this with me, they keep believing that I am kidding or something.  

This is not an avoidance or some kind of rebellion or taking a stand or anything like that.  It is simply me taking a break in order to avoid completely breaking.

Nothing is simple.  What a shame.

Simple Thoughts

Being a simpleton, I have simple thoughts.  I like to think of my self as complicated, but most of the time I am as complex as a box of rocks, and that is on a good day.

But, that does not stop me from having random ideas, notions and crackpot musings.  If nothing else, it keeps it interesting on this end.

So, anyway, one day last weekend was particularly challenging in the whole self-esteem departments.  My daughter is having a challenging time of her own and is using me as her safe place to let off steam.  No problem, because that is what mother's are designed to be for their children, the ultimate safe place.  Unfortunately, this has been going on for a considerable while now and I think that it has become more habit than genuine release for her.  I think that I might be at the end of my endurance for this.  Like seriously not able to continue to hold up my end of the dynamic.  It has gotten to the point where I am reluctant to visit her or talk on the telephone.  How fucking sad is that?

Which brings up another thing...I am trying to stop cursing.  I came to profanity late in life, as in only fifteen years ago, or so.  Factor in that I really, really and truly like swearing and I now have another serious dilemma.  I never curse in front of  family members, but my friends and my writing are fair game.  Add in the continuing drama in my personal environment, and by Saturday evening I was at the end of something, maybe my rope or my thread or something tenuous like that, hard to hold on to and, well, like that.

It is difficult to have any reasonable life if you think that you are letting down everyone around you and I was feeling worse than I have in a very long time.  Seriously worse.

Then I decided that as long as I was feeling so depressed that I might as well work on my budget, such as it is.  Turns out that I am not in as sad a financial shape as I thought.  Because I am old now and have accumulated a lot of crap stuff, I rarely have to buy anything.  Lye and oils for disastrous soap experiments, groceries and gasoline for the car that I use are my major expenses and do not have to be included in the not-buying crap stuff  issue. I am managing to put a little away each month for future traveling, as well.  I am keeping up with my medical costs and can continue to do that as long as I stop getting so sick.  I can still afford to have Saturday Morning Coffee with my friends.  I can still afford to volunteer instead of trying to find a real job that pays real money.  Makes me shudder just considering that possible task.

And, when I added it all up, I can manage very well, am managing very well indeed.  Who woulda thunk it.  Not me, and the simple act of doing that budget work made me feel better.  A lot better. 

I also took a look at my other relationships and I am doing outstanding in that area.  Yay for me.  Work is great and so is my other volunteering jobs.  Double-yay.  I have been asked to curate an exhibit early next year and the yay-for-mes add up nicely.

I guess I have to remember that even though I will never be able to fix some things in my life, I can still do the best of which I am capable, in each moment and just move on.    I have to remember that being dangerously depressed is not so much fun, but it is temporary, despite how unyielding it may seem in the moments that it holds dear.  There is always tomorrow and new opportunities.  It is enough.

One more thing.  I am not spell-checking this writing here.  Let the errors fall where they may.

Stupid "location" will not work, so I am in the moment.