Diagnosis - Human

 These days there are a lot of things that could be "wrong". A lot of symptoms to freak out over; a lot of confusion over "symptoms". Cancer or cold? Indigestion or heart issues? Hungry or in pain? 

And then we start worrying about others. Has she always acted this tired and lethargic? Has he always had that little sniffle? They've had a lot of stress in their lives. That bug is going around.

So how do we know? And how do we have a conversation without alarming or stressing out the object of our concern? If it's a memory thing, do you take witnesses, so you know that YOU'RE remembering the meeting correctly? If it's an internal thing, do you press the issue? 

And in my experience, it's hard to get an appointment with a doctor these days - so if they actually get one, will they even remember why we  suggested they get the appointment?

What is the difference between forgetful and early onset Alzheimer's? Where is the line between out of breath and COPD or Asthma? When is it okay to express concern and when do we not mention it to help avoid calling attention to a weakness?

And the biggest question of all - am I focusing on their "symptoms" because I'm worried about myself?

Being human is a lot of work. 

Vacation vs Adventure

I have been on a lovely vacation which was filled with a lot of nothing.

Yesterday, my host said, apologetically, "But we haven't done anything!" And I grinned and said, "Exactly. It was wonderful!"

I do love going to the beach, and exploring little shops, and finding amazing gardens and wondering through cemeteries. I enjoy scenic gondola rides and hikes (walks) up small mountains and white water rafting (okay, not really that one) and checking out dance clubs. I am happy to explore new foods and local pubs. It's all part of that "world traveler/adventurer" label I enjoy wearing sometimes.

But when I think vacation, when I think "gotta get away", what I'm getting away from is the frantic do, do, do! Projects for work and projects for keeping the home in peace, and food and exercise and spiritual attention, and am I answering all of my emails (always a no) and am I meeting all of my obligations - which are self imposed, chosen, enjoyable! but are still obligations. 

So these days, when I go on vacation - even though I can't "get away" from the news or the emails or the nagging feeling I left something undone - I want to do... nothing.

Granted, nothing for me does mean some emails or checking in at work; but it's in a relaxed environment and it's totally my choice and, best of all, it's in the company of those I'm visiting. The BEST vacations are the ones where we're all just sitting around - or puttering around the house - doing our thing. We flow together to play games and eat and converse; we flow away to nap and read and exercise and work. We share tidbits of the day, random delights and esoteric thoughts. We're just being. Together.

This last vacation, I didn't even spend much time contemplating the beauty of the world. I mean, I sat outside (I was outside when I started this post) and I listened to birds and watched the clouds and felt the wind.  But there was no marveling, no deep thoughts (except, you know, when I'm writing), no active communing with nature. I just sat there at let it all wash over me. Just being.

This has been a truly lovely vacation. And I am very grateful to everyone who just hung out and existed with me. I love you.

Packing is fun! (read the sarcasm)

 Packing is a very frustrating exercise. There are so many things to balance! And I feel like I'm limiting myself - pre choosing is a lot of brain power... what do I want to wear vs what will the weather be like vs what in the heck will I be doing? How do I "pack" infinite possibilities into a medium sized suitcase?

And yep, it's medium sized. I've worked my way down from large. But I don't think I'll ever be able to fit everything into a carry-on size. Eesh.

And I have this cool set of luggage with a "closet". It's great when I get to where I'm going, because I just pull it out and hang it up and clothes are mostly easy to find (I just have to remember which shelf I put them on🤣). But the closet thing takes up space in the suitcase and sticks up funny so even though there's two sides to the suitcase, there's not as much room as one would think. 

So I say "yay, I have confined myself to 9 articles of clothing for a week long trip - 3 pants, 3 short sleeve shirts and 3 long sleeve options" but there's also my warm sweatshirt and shoes and underwear - oh my goodness, do you know how much space 7 days worth of underwear takes up?! and sleep clothes. It doesn't all fit into the closet. Especially my big bulky lovely comforting sweatshirt.

And typing it out, 9 articles of clothing balances between too much and oh, nice job. And really, it's not about judging myself. Or what Ithink others think. I don't need to explain it, I'm just here to say it's a lot of work to get it down to 9 main articles of clothing. And then still end up staring at the suitcase wondering if I can close it.

Like, was all that agonizing worth it? I mean, it will be (mostly) when I get there. 

Oh yeah. I'm doing this now because I know I will prefer it then - both the different choices, and the fact that it's an easy unpack/organize when I get there. 

So yay me! Thank me for the angst I am enduring. 

Morning Meandering - March 12

I'm sitting here after a lovely stretching session, waiting for my brain to fire up and WRITE. Something profound or meaningful or funny or...

I mean, I want to write. I've just got nothing to say.

...

So. I just read a draft of something I started a while ago; there was no conclusion yet, but the idea underneath it was true. Thought provoking and definitely "post" worthy.

But it was also...vulnerable.

The other day a friend thanked me for being vulnerable, after I "confessed" some of my idiosyncrasies? issues? habits? freak outs? when I travel. I was actually saying it as a warning; "Beware the Lila with suitcase in hand."

But she was right. It takes a lot to say, "Hey, this is how I am. Get ready for it."

And why? Why do people have to come out, or fly our freak flag, or "be ourselves" like it's a great challenge and something to be rewarded. I mean, it is, obviously (or I wouldn't be angsting over it) but why? (Oops, back to the "Why?!!") 

Is it a label thing? A "man" names thing thing? Because when we label and name and identify we can safely put it in a slot, with additional labels such as "nice" or "No thank you!", and move on about our day? And yeah, I love categories as much as the next bookseller or color-coded obsessed admin, but does it really count for people? 

All right, now I have to go think about that. (And notice how I nicely skipped away from the vulnerable thing? Yeah...)

But why Why?

 I have long had a discordant relationship with the word "Why."

It's too easy to get caught up in the why of something - get wrapped into the reasons and the past activities which leads to agonizing over past choices and wishing and reimagining. Which is all lovely and whatever, but it rarely solves the problem at hand.  And I am left with a feeling of helplessness and time wasted. So I have been a big proponent of "Why doesn't matter. What matters is what we do next."

Yeah, which is great, except for when the why does actually matter.

For example: why am I feeling hazy in the brain?

It could be allergies. It could be a lack of oxygen. It could be a cold. It could be lack of sleep. It could be the need for more water. It could be a stress reaction from an event or from a trigger. It could be burn out. It could be my glasses need to be cleaned and I'm translating fuzzy eyes to fuzzy brain. 

Each of these things has a different fix. So the why is important.

Which is annoying as... a very annoying thing (insert favorite adjective or curse word here)! Because pausing to figure out the reason takes time. Uggh. So  much time. And sometimes that is a triggering thing right there.

I have spent years, YEARS, working on myself, trying to achieve this or that and maintain it for longer that a breath, and every time I have reached a summit, I find a new challenge and while I'm busy exploring the new the old unravels which means I probably didn't have the right answer which means I probably didn't know the right why which means AAAAAAAGH!!!!

Yup. Frustrated. It could be because I have burnout. It could be because I'm tired. It could be because I'm hungry. It could be because...

You know, in books, they already know the why - well, the characters may not know but the author knows and it's going to be revealed eventually because there is an audience to inform so everything will come out and they don't actually have to make any decisions because someone else is making the decisions for them. And.

Hmm. I think I'm going to go read a book.

Morning Meandering March 3

 Wow, has it really been that long since I posted? I write but then I wonder if it's relevant or well written or do I really want to put that out into the world or...

And of course, there's the venue and time components. Which venue do I use? Blogger? WordPress? YouTube? Insta - blah blah blah. Do I want to be "Relevant?" And, while it's easy enough to free write 100-500 words on the spur of the moment, there's the edit period. (Because even if it's meandering, I still want to fix the typos!)

Honestly, I just want to write - to get the words out of my head an onto the paper so I can be connected to them and think - Yup. Or Nope.

I love that I accepted myself enough to title this blog section "Meanderings." I'm not sure there is such thing as a straight line in my brain. Possibly in my life. It's not so much a matter of "squirrel!" as it is... rock skipping that pauses to sink into the pool, immerse in the moment around it, get really involved, and then "Squirrel!" skipping back onto the path. 

Which can be frustrating, let me tell you. It feels like I have no "staying power", or passion, or strong interest. And it does make the things that I return to seem like old friends - or something to grab onto. 

I've written a few books, and in one of them, I write about a scene where the main character is so lonely and afraid, she grabs for presences - and scares them off. It takes deeps breathing and opening to allow the connection - and holding so loosely. It's still a little lonely, because sometimes one doubts if that connection is even there. Am I still just fumbling around in the dark?

But it comes back to belief and happiness. Am I happier believing there is a connection - with GOD, with the Universe, with Nature, with my world - and that the love I pour out is being returned, multiplied? Or am I happier striving, reaching, waiting for the solid, physical proof I can point to, display for others? Because outside validation is the only thing that makes it real? 

There's a thing from the Bible (at least I think it's from the Bible - Joel Osteen quotes it all the time). I am fearfully and wonderfully made. I AM fearfully and wonderfully made. It is jaw dropping and a bit intimidating to think of all the things that happened, all of the "random" paths which crossed to bring me to this exact point. I am a work of art! I am amazing. 

And I have just as much validation power as anyone else in my world. 

Hmm. Maybe that's the scariest thing of all. I have the power. How will I use it?

Enlightenment is... Fragile

 I admit it. I am feeling pretty fragile these days.

Not in a suicidal way, but in an "I wonder when I am going to break?" way.

All around, more and more things seem to be blowing up or washing away; people sick and injured and dying, the earth burning and drowning. And it feels like the coping mechanisms I am used to relying on are causing more harm than benefit to my body and my mind.

And I practice what I preach: I focus on Happiness. I develop new techniques. I have a fabulous understanding of myself and my needs and what I want to feel like. I am working and being and allowing and receiving.

And then, I look in the mirror, or I wake up to construction, or I open an email. And I feel something nibble at the edges. Poke, poke, poke. Is this the one? Is this the straw? Is this the final nail?

Happily, the answer is "No." Sometimes firmly, sometimes with a sigh, sometimes with a snarky tone, "No." I am still well able. I am still fully connected to my support and to Love. I still know that all these transitions and growing pains and frustrations and painful moments are just moments. I still believe that the world is becoming amazingly beautiful, more every day. I still believe in myself! I am still happy.

Which I guess means I am learning something new. (Always. Yay.)

It is okay to feel fragile too. That fragility, wonderment, questioning -- that is all part of the growing process. All part of living. One of the many fascinating facets of myself.

The thing I get to remember is that even if/when/as I break, I am loved. I am held. I am part of the amazing song of the Heavens. 

And, if you don't mind me saying, You are too.

I hope today, even when the fragile moments seem immeasurable, that we can see some beautfy and we can know we are Loved.