A fresh new day

Get out there and make the most of it!

I’m feeling pretty good, this morning. I have the whole weekend ahead of me, and I feel much more focused than I have in a long time. I think the move to the new location at work is going to really help me. I will be close enough to home, that I can come home over lunchtime and take a quick nap. I think that’s going to make all the difference in the world. That, and not having to deal with long drives down the freeway in bad weather. This past week has been very tough, because the weather has been bad, and the traffic going to and from work has been pretty challenging.

In less than a week, that’s all going away, and I can live my life again. For the first time, really. I’ve never worked this close to home before, and it’s about damn’ time.

Also, in another couple of weeks, I can quit working from 7 a.m. till 8 p.m. (with intermittent breaks in between to do things like, oh, take a shower, drive to work, and grab a quick bite to eat). I’ve been working double-duty, fixing stuff that got broken, during my last couple of projects, making sure that people know what to do — and are doing it. Managing projects where cannot manage their own time and workload is no friggin’ fun, and that’s how it’s turned out to be.

Here, I thought that I could rely on others to do their jobs and finish up in good order. Untrue. They apparently only do what they’re hounded to do, and while I can do the “hound thing” (arf, arf, arf), it’s not my idea of a fun time.

Plus, the farther I get from the old world, where I was so totally stressed out about everything in my life, and the more I relax and come to my senses, the more I realize that I’m really not all that keen on working in technology or working for companies that produce stuff that people want, but do not need. There’s something about working for a company that provides a needed service (rather than luxury/consumer products and services) which really gets me going in the morning.

I used to have a job like that — I used to work in an industry like that. It was an indispensable line of work, and what we did was desperately needed — essential — for people’s lives.

Not so, nowadays. I’m managing projects that are all about stuff that people find cool and interesting, but isn’t critical to everyday life. And it feels like a bit of a waste, to be expending so much time and energy on frantically selling stuff that people could really live without.

At the same time, I’ve got to count my blessings. This job — once I get the hang of it — will be ultra-cushy, to be sure. It’s not rocket science, and since we’re not exactly dashing into danger and saving anyone from a fiery building, there’s less of the intense pressure I was under at my past employers. In my past “professional incarnation”, I worked for companies that actually kept people alive and made it possible for them to live longer, more productive lives. And there was no margin for error. Now, there’s plenty of margin for error.

People kind of wonder why I get so tweaked about things not going perfectly. It’s probably because of my past experience, where everything mattered so intensely. I just got used to working that way.

Nowadays, I can take the pressure off and relax a bit.

Although… that comes with its hazards. Now that I’m not all stressed out, I have the bandwidth to notice how I’m really doing. I’m not running from tyrannosaurus rexes anymore, so I have some time and energy to check in and notice how I’m doing. And in all honesty, it was easier in some ways, when I was stressed.

See, the thing is, all the stress and pressure and discomfort kept me “ON” — engaged, focused, and it kept my mind off the general sense of my life, which was not always that stellar. I didn’t have the time or energy to focus on how I really felt in my own skin, or how my overall system was operating. I had to just focus on putting one foot in front of the other and keeping a fine balance to everything, because I never knew if I was coming or going, there was so much chaos going on inside my head and body all the time, and I couldn’t afford to lose focus… or else.

All that chaos was a bit of a blessing, because it kept my mind off all the confusion, the frustration, the pain, the discomfort… all of it.

Now that things are calming down, I’m noticing the things I didn’t have time to think about before. Like the fact that I’m approaching 50, with a spouse who is basically disabled and is a number of years older than me, and we have no retirement fund. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. We need to make some significant house repairs, and we are just now getting close to being able to pay someone to do the work. I’m working, yes, but I have no disability insurance, and without a safety net, we’re living kind of close to the bone.

We’re getting by, and we do have a pretty sweet life, all in all, and we have a lot to be grateful for, yet there are significant ways we’re at risk, and it’s no fun thinking about “what might happen”.

I’ve been so busy, just keeping it together, that I haven’t dwelled on that very much. I’ve been too busy just keeping myself upright and functional.  I haven’t focused on the pain I’m in, I haven’t had time to deal with headaches, other than getting acupuncture and stretching and not eating a lot of crap. I haven’t had time to focus on the weird sensations in my face, the twitching and jumping. It’s all nerves, most likely, so I just keep going. If it weren’t nerves – if it were something else – I’m not sure I’d have the time and energy and resources to really explore all my options.

Now, though, things feel like they’re closing in on me, because I have time to think about them – and I’m not liking what I’m seeing. Or feeling. It’s depressing.

So, screw all that, I’m going to get myself busy again. On things that I want to be busy on — writing books, getting out in the day to have my walks and explorations, taking care of chores and odd jobs (like getting my cars inspected — I overlooked the fact that they were both due for their stickers, two months ago — just got busy, I guess). And just live my life. Get into my life, see what’s there, and use this fine new day for what it’s worth.

There is so much screwed up in my life right now, so much that feels weird and strange and trying… It’s been that way for a long time, but I’ve been so stressed out, I haven’t had the bandwidth to really address any of it. Now I’ve got the time. Maybe I’ll be able to address some of it. Maybe I’ll just end up keeping busy instead, because trying to hang onto the horns of the bucking bull that is my life, is a losing proposition.

We all have our challenges, we all have sh*t we need to deal with. I’m no exception.

Now I need to learn to handle the good times as well as I’ve learned to handle the bad.

And with that, it’s time for a walk. It’s turning out to be a beautiful day.

 

 

 

Aaaannnnddd… Problem solved.

Like mine, but in better condition

I’m glad I didn’t get rid of my old bike — “Old Ironsides” I call it, because it’s an ancient three-speed similar to the one my dad used to ride to work each day. I guess I hung onto it, because it reminds me of those days when my dad was still young and vigorous and had the energy to bike to and from work — and come home for lunch in the summers so we kids could spend time with him.

Anyway, I picked up Old Ironsides one day when I was out doing errands. Where I live, when people don’t have use for things that haven’t yet worn out, they put them out on their curb with a ‘free’ sign, so people will help themselves. I threw Old Ironsides in the back of the van, and it’s been in my basement for the past 11 years or so.

I’ve pulled it out, now and then, to ride around, but it’s an old rattle-trap, with a slightly bent wheel in the front, and a bit of of bumpiness when you ride along. But the brakes work, and the gears still shift. It’s still a solid bike, and I’m glad I hung onto it.

I have been really challenged with my physical fitness, lately. I am lifting weights more deliberately now, and I also spend time each day juggling, which is good for my coordination — and my frustration tolerance. I have an exercise bike, and I ride it sometimes. I also take long walks on the country roads around my home, as well as hike in the woods. But sometimes I need more.

I used to have a really awesome bike — a Specialized Roubaix road bike, which was so light, and so good on bumpy surfaces. It was easy to ride, easy to handle, easy to put in the back of my little car and take wherever I wanted. The thing was, when I had it, I was struggling with balance issues, and I was not doing well with being out and about on my own. Riding my bike on back roads really concerned me, because of traffic and distractions and the potential of falling.

So, I sold the bike to someone who would love and care for it very well. It was a wise choice. But I have missed that bike ever since.

In the past years since I sold it, I have gradually gotten better about my balance and my ability to stay focused on what’s happening in front of me. I am still uncomfortable with the idea of ranging far and wide beyond my home on a bike, because I can’t afford to get hurt and not be able to get home. There are also lots of hills around my house, so it’s a killer workout to ride bikes around here.

But within two miles of my house, there are enough gently rolling hills and enough untraveled back roads that I can ride Old Ironsides on. It really gives me a workout, just pedaling up gentle inclines — let alone the 45-degree slopes not far from my front door. I have enough road to ride, just within a 2 mile radius, to get some exercise, get my blood pumping, and feel the wind rushing past me. Also, my bike is not good enough to go that fast, so the issue of velocity is… negligible.

So, this afternoon, I dragged Old Ironsides out of the garage, hauled it down to the gas station, filled up the tires, found my good bike helmet, threw on a fluorescent orange t-shirt, and took the bike out for a spin. I didn’t have to go far, to tucker myself out — but I also had a good time pedaling and covering some ground. I know it’s not the most advanced piece of machinery, but it got me exactly where I wanted to go, and back, so that’s good.

I’m feeling really positive about this. Another fall is not something I care to experience, and that chance was always in the back of my mind with the other bike. This one is literally incapable of moving at the kind of speed that’s a danger to me. It’s sturdy, solid, and it does the job it’s meant to do — move a person from one place to the next quicker than they could go on foot.

So, I’ve had my exercise for the day, and I’m looking forward to doing it again, when I get some time. Safety first. And then plenty of fun.

Well, it’s time to get some supper.

Onward.

The vital care for small things

One thing at a time… piece by piece, bit by bit…

I notice small things, here and there, which need to change. And in changing those small things, I see large effects.

Like email, for example. Steering clear of it for days on end, and then only looking at the messages from people I recognize and care about.

And the bruises that have been showing up on my arms and legs for no apparent reason. I don’t recall banging into things… Then I check online and find that fish oil is a blood thinner, and too much of it can lead to increased bruising. I’ve been taking double my usual amount — two big capsules instead of just one. I thought I was doing myself a favor. Turns out, I may have been making myself bruise more easily.

And my finances. Creating a spreadsheet of my monthly income and expenses, so I can see where I can reasonably expect to be over the coming weeks and months… and plan accordingly.

And breathing. In traffic. When something comes up that flips that switch that gets me going. At work. In meetings. At home. Whenever I feel myself tensing up and becoming cramped and anxious. Breathing. Counting breaths. Feeling the sensation of my breath in my nostrils, filling my lungs… sensing the expansion of my chest, the rise of my shoulders… Breathing.

Little things, made large. Small things take care of, as the essential elements of life they are.

I look up from my desk and look for stars in the night-time sky beyond my study window.