Posts Tagged ‘tolerance’

First Payment!

January 4, 2018

And I made it a double.

Just because.

I just did my first payment on my car loan for my new car.

There was some confusion regarding what I needed to do and I was a bit perturbed today that I had to make a lot of time to email back and forth with the sales person at the dealership to figure out what to do.

For some reason, and I don’t believe it’s because they wanted me to have a free car, I was never sent the bank information regarding my car loan repayment.

I knew from reading over the paperwork that my first payment was due tomorrow, 1/4/18.

I sent the dealership a message on 12/3/17 to make sure that I was ready to go and it being the holidays and all, which is why I’m assuming things slipped through the cracks, that I should have it set up before the new year.

I was assured the paperwork was being sent out to me, but I never received anything and right around New Year’s Eve I realized that hmm, I still haven’t gotten my loan paperwork.

Three e-mails later and it’s now the 3rd and the payment’s due tomorrow and what the fuck?

I was getting snippy and I ended up taking a big deep breath at work and resending an e-mail apologizing for being short, saying that I felt a little dropped and was concerned that I was not going to get the information needed to pay the loan payment and I had to laugh at myself, really laugh.

Because.

There was a time when this would have not been a concern, not a worry, not a blip on my radar.

A. I would never have bought a new car, I would have been doing too much blow to be able to afford a new car.

B. If I had somehow finagled a new car, it would be their fault that I didn’t pay the payment on time and I would have played the victim card.

Nope.

Instead.

I just made my last e-mail a simple one of, hey, forgive my shortness in my prior e-mail, I’m concerned and want to make sure the payment is made, please advise.

And.

That worked.

The salesperson apparently, which of course, makes total sense, has nothing to do with the loan company and it was the dealership itself that dropped the ball getting me the paperwork.

Which is odd, as I did get my plates and registration.

And so she, my salesperson, found out where the loan was being held and got a hold of the number for the bank and forwarded that on to me and as of a few minutes ago I made my first payment.

It felt very nice.

I made a double payment and I am going to try to do that as often as possible.

I want to always pay more on the loan than I need to.

I would love to pay it off faster than the financing on it.

Less interest and I just like taking care of my bills in a timely manner.

I could have actually put a little bit more on it, but I also have been advised to have a year’s worth of payments in my prudent reserve, so I have that and if anything should happen, I’m ok.

I’m not too worried though.

I just got a nice raise at work, 5% thank you very much.

And I should get a good tax return.

Plus.

I won’t have to start paying back my student loans if I transition right into the PhD program at school.

I’ll take the summer off from school, but as it’s just three months, I won’t have to start payments on my loans for school.

If I took off more than six months I would.

So it’s important for me to apply for this fall to get into the PhD program.

I want to anyway, I want to keep my momentum going, I want to be in the habit of school and classes and keeping one foot steady in front of the other.

I see a lot of folks take time off from school and it just gets drawn out further and further.

I prefer to get it all in now, line up my ducks, knock ’em down, getter done.

I’d like to pay off my car by the time I get my PhD.

I think that’s entirely possible.

Paying off the car within three years.

At the rate I’m supposed to pay it off it would be done in 2023.

But if I make double payments, well, that’s half the time and it would put me around 2020, same time I’d be graduating with my PhD.

It will helpful as well to have the car loan paid off before I have to start paying off the student loans.

Anyway.

Numbers and money and time.

I’m just really grateful I didn’t have to ride my scooter in the rain today.

I’m super grateful I got to listen to music going to work and coming home.

I’m über grateful that I found good parking in my neighborhood.

And very, very, very happy I made my first payment a double payment and that I got it in on time and I was nice to the salesperson.

Patience, tolerance, kindliness, and love.

That’s what I want this year to be about.

Oh, yes.

It’s definitely.

All.

About.

The.

Love.

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A Little Here

August 23, 2017

A little there.

I got some more reading done today for school, which I find funny as it was the opening salvo in my therapy session this morning.

I’m behind on my reading, and school hasn’t started yet, and for the first time in the history of my grad school career I don’t give any of the fucks.

I mean.

A little.

Sort of.

But mostly.

Fuck no.

I have spent so much time now seeing clients and getting into the mix and showing up to be a therapist that school stuff seems to have lost a lot of its luster.

Oh sure.

I know I have so much to learn, there is always going to be learning, I will and have years of it to go.

Getting done with my third year of my Masters program is sort of the tip on the iceberg, I will still have to intern for years before I have enough hours accrued to get licensed.

That being said.

School seems to hold less gravitas for me.

I am excited to see my cohort, I have had a lot of them reach out to me in the last few days and it feels good to be getting reconnected.

Third year!

I am a third year.

This is the big push.

One more year of this program and then.

Well.

Probably more school.

Although I’m not 100% sure.

I have, at least it seems very likely, unless I win the lottery which would allow me to not work, about two and a half years of work to do before I have all my hours.

Give or take.

I might as well go for my PhD.

I will still have to work full time or damn close.

Although.

I’ll be dropping down my hours when I get back from Burning Man.

38 hours a week from 41.

This doesn’t count my supervision, therapy, or client hours.

Just plain work hours will go down three hours a week.

Which doesn’t seem like much, but will be a great big help.

I can get a lot read in three hours.

I can.

I ended up getting in four chapters of reading this evening, as a matter of fact, at the internship when my first client cancelled.

If only they would’ve coordinated!

My clients that is, so that I didn’t have to sit for an hour in the office waiting for my end of day client, but hey, I read for school and that was great.

I finished the reading for another one of my classes.

I don’t know that I have much more time to get anything else read.

Especially since most of it is online material and I’m loathe to bring my laptop with me to work to read.

On the off-chance that I might have some down time.

It’s generally not worth the risk of me taking it.

I’ll still bring one of my textbooks with me, get a little further ahead in the reading as the case may be, if there’s time.

Like I said, at this point in the game, there’s not much and my life priorities being what they are, I am completely fine with this.

“I’m sure you have much more read than most of your cohort,” my therapist said to me as I explained my school stuff, “I suspect, you have always been a bit more prepared than most of your cohort,” she concluded.

And.

Well.

Yes.

She’s right.

I am a horrid perfectionist.

But that has eased as I have gotten used to the program and having seen the few times when I wasn’t completely caught up with my reading that I still held my own.

I am smart, I know how to listen, and I know how to contribute.

The one class that I haven’t really touched into yet for the reading was the last class to post its syllabus.

But.

Heh.

Um.

It’s a Transpersonal Psychology class.

So.

Spirituality and spiritual practices.

Yeah.

I think I might have that one bagged.

We have to keep a journal.

Pardon me while I laugh into my sleeve.

That shouldn’t be hard.

Ahem.

And talk about our spiritual experiences.

That will be interesting.

Like.

I put a prayer in my God box today.

God box?

Yes.

I have this hot pink, magenta really, pylon bunny rabbit from Paris that is a piggy bank, and I use it as a “God Box” a sort of repository for “problems” or things that I need to let go of and that I want God to have, I write down what I need to give to God, on a post it note, this one was pink, and then I fold it up, and say a few prayers.

I believe in prayer.

And I have a God of my understanding.

It doesn’t much matter to me what you think of me writing that God notes to help alleviate my issues, whatever they may be.

It’s the action that counts.

I don’t have to know the end results, in fact, it’s generally better if I don’t, I just have to take actions and something happens.

The writing it down and giving it up is an action of humility.

I don’t know how to deal with this, I am not God, I need help, I asking for guidance.

I can’t really do anything alone or in isolation.

I am not built like that.

Oh.

Fuck.

I have so tried.

I so want to figure it out on my own, I don’t want help, or so I say, I want to be strong and mighty and fierce and get it done without your help.

But.

Then.

When I don’t ask for help or I eschew what is being offered out of a false sense of pride, I ultimately lose.

I isolate.

I am alone.

And lonely.

That is never a good place for me to be.

So, yeah.

Just taking the time to write a little note and pop it in the God box, it does wonders.

I suppose my practice may seem strange or funny and I don’t really care.

I also pray in the morning, on my knees, another act of humility, a supplication, please help me, help me be of service, help me be kind, compassionate, tolerant, loving and forgiving.

Help me forgive myself, love myself, be the best possible version of me I can be.

Which I am not always.

I can get caught up in all sorts of scattered thinking or being maudlin, or distracted.

But.

To circle back.

I can forgive myself.

I haven’t finished the reading.

I won’t finish it.

It’s ok.

All I really have to do is show up on time.

Participate.

And be myself.

The rest will follow.

It always.

Always.

Always.

Does.

Close

January 9, 2016

But no cigar.

Or.

No reader.

I should say.

Frustrated.

Yes.

Anything I can do about it?

No.

Er.

Wait!

Practice acceptance, patience, tolerance, kindliness, and love.

Well.

I did my best.

I was nice to the woman on the phone and I could tell that I was not the only impatient student wondering where the fuck their reader was and why was it not already ready and don’t you know how important I am and how valuable my time is?

Well?

Except.

I didn’t.

I just laughed.

And I got grateful that I once again, called before I took action.

One of my readers is actually supposed to be done tonight, as of 10p.m., that was the report from the woman I spoke to.

The other?

Early next week.

I was about to say, “you’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” but I restrained.

Ah.

Restraint of pen and tongue (and occasionally e-mail) how you save me all the time.

I laughed instead, was sympathetic to the woman on the phone, said, I might come down tomorrow and grab one of the readers.

Or not.

I’m indecisive,to tell you the truth.

My time is valuable and it feels like a waste to go down to that neighborhood twice to pick up readers.

Especially since I have been down once already.

I have been doing the reading online, which is not preferable, not at all, I’m such a better reader when it’s paper and in front of me and I can underline and highlight and stick post-it notes to things and star things, and yeah, hard to do that online.

I do spend considerably more screen time on my computer than I ever thought I would, but I am not to the point where I feel comfortable doing that much reading on it and I’m certainly not the type of person who takes notes on it during class.

Aside.

I see to many of my classmates not paying attention in class, on their laptops or phones or whatever device they have that they are taking notes on and it’s a text or it’s facecrack or social media or youtube and I find it distracting, and I’m not even doing it.

I can’t imagine how I would not succumb to the lure of being online.

Sit at my desk, typing happily away, taking “notes” when in actuality I’m surfing the web.

Nope.

I just have a notebook and a lot of pens.

I suppose I am a little old fashioned.

But that’s just how it works for me.

So.

To go downtown tomorrow and get the one reader that is available or wait until next week and get both the readers I need.

My time is precious so I’ll probably wait until they both are available and focus on being patient and continuing to read what I can online.

I also have received three of my text books for this next semester of classes.

I will be spending some time looking over my syllabi and seeing what I can read for the class with the texts, the syllabus wasn’t posted the last time I checked, but I heard a rumor that it was up.

I haven’t gone to my files to look at it yet.

I have gotten lots of e-mails and updates and this, that, the other in regards to the upcoming semester.

All sorts of fun stuff, from here’s more to read, to hey, guess what, even though the semester is starting next week, you don’t get your financial aid until February 10th!

Hello.

I might re-think my hair geographic.

Although I think I can pull it off.

January does have five weeks in it, that’s an extra pay period.

I shall see.

I don’t want to cancel and when I did my spending plan I had not included the monies that I was expecting to receive from financial aid disbursement, although it was definitely in the back of my head.

I am not going to fret.

There really is nothing to fret about.

I’ll have the cash.

Or.

I won’t.

If I don’t do my hair this month, I will next.

But.

I believe it’s there.

I’ll just be clever and re-locating money from one category to another in my spending plan.

The nice thing, that, knowing, to the penny, how much I spend on things helps me to know what kind of money I actually have to spend.

If I want something that is more than the amount budgeted in that category, I can relegate funds from another area.

My overhead is pretty low and I’m creative.

I have abundance and I am well aware of it.

The fact that I have clean, somewhat dry clothes (it started to rain on my way home) on my back, a sweet, clean, well lit, cozy home to come home and dry off in, food in my fridge, a phone that works, a scooter in front of the house, a bicycle in the garage, I have so much.

I am super grateful.

I have enough.

I am enough.

It’s awesome.

Sort of like the dinner I had tonight at work.

Swordfish sashimi; kimchi, black salt cod, chicken yakatori, and trumpet mushroom yakatori.

Amazing.

I went with the family to Rintaro on Folsom at 15th.

So tasty.

Plus lots of soba tea.

The family took me out for a late birthday dinner, which was very sweet of them to do.

And it’s nice to be so well thought of and so cherished and taken care of at my job.

I suppose because I cherish and take care 0f them.

It’s a two way street of lovely reciprocity.

Yup.

Life is good.

Even when I’m not getting it when I want it, my readers, or the weather dumps some rain, on my bicycle parade, I am so loved and taken care of, I can’t really fathom complaining about a thing.

I am.

A.

Very.

Lucky girl.

Are You Riding Around On It?

June 27, 2014

Uh.

No.

He apologized a few minutes later and explained he had not noticed my walking boot.

Of course I wasn’t riding around on it.

I won’t be for a while yet either.

He was not the only person who did not notice the walking boot.

The great thing about walking with crutches is that people see the crutches, especially my bling bling gold get around sticks.

Which are just used exclusively to get me up and to the bathroom now in the morning before I put on the walking boot.  Or in the evening when I have retired the boot for the day.

I have graduated from the crutches to solo walking in the boot.

And it actually looks like I am walking now.

Not so much the wobble, hobble, roll.

I just walk very slowly.

And folks are in their own bubble, just like I am, not paying attention, having my own agenda, doing my own thing, get out of my way please.

Oh.

Wait.

Ah.

I see it now.

I probably run over just as many people on my bicycle, in my job, walking about, as do people me.

I am self-involved.

Just another quiet kick in the pants bit of perspective I had today while taking public transport after my appointment at Kaiser Geary this afternoon.

Transit that took so long.

Not necessarily because it takes MUNI a long time, sometimes MUNI is pretty fast and reliable, no, it was user failure, I suppose you could say, not system failure.

I have the MUNI app on my phone, so I know when the next bus is coming and where to get off and where to transfer.

Except that app doesn’t tell me how much time I need to add in to compensate for how slowly I perambulate.

I missed two connections because I was not moving fast enough.

I also swore a bit more than usual after missing the second bus and realizing that I had fifteen minutes until I was to get picked up by the next bus coming down the line.

I could get mad.

Or I could realize I was in HALT.

Hungry.

Yup, doctors appointment navigation led to me not having lunch before hand, it was too late, but by the time I was done at Kaiser, it was way past my lunch time.

Angry.

Gods yes.

Did I not just write that I missed not one, but two buses.

The first one I missed was the Geary 38 and unfortunately for me the bus stop was under construction so there was nowhere to sit and rest my foot for the fifteen minutes it was going to be for the next bus to poke along.

I was only going up the hill to Masonic, but that walk would have laid me flat in the boot.  Too much hill.

Lonely.

Not so much.

Thankfully, I had met with a wonderful lady before my appointment and we had tea and talked all things humility, love, tolerance, patience, and service.

Proper way to get my day started.

Plus she gave me a lift to the appointment.

I couldn’t be upset about that.

I think I might have lost my marbles if I had to take MUNI in and then out from Kaiser.

Tired.

I wasn’t.

Then I was.

I was tired of standing.

The 38 Geary finally arrived.

I got on.

Gaggle of teenagers oblivious to their surroundings all up in the handicap and elderly seating.

I actually did it.

I leaned in and asked a fifteen year old girl to move.

I was nice about it, but firm.

She hopped right up.

Then I got glared at by passengers getting on the bus when some elderly got on.

I thought, well, I don’t need to explain my situation or my condition, and what you think of me is none of my business, but fuck off you know.

Again, I am self-involved, my agenda the only agenda out there.

After the brief and tortuous ride up to Masonic I transferred off the 38 and crossed the street, oh so slowly, to the other side, I decided to pop into Target before I transferred to the 43 headed toward the Inner Sunset where I had a commitment to get to by 6:30 p.m.

I knew how much time I had.

That app thing.

And I only had a few things to pick up at Target, which is not a place I normally choose to shop at, but I was there, I had twenty minutes, and I needed a couple of travel size toiletries for my imminent trip to the land of Cheese Curds.

Wisconsin.

I got the few little things I needed and got stuck at a register that was malfunctioning.

By the time I exited the store, yes, you guessed correct.

There was the 43 pulling across the intersection at the stop I had to be at to catch it.

Damn it man.

I was not about to run across the intersection.

I wobbled across.

I had a moment of thinking I would make it.

I saw that the bus was still sitting with its flashers blinking.

“Hold the bus.”

Nope.

Women turned, looked at me, stepped up, doors closed, bus departed.

Motherfucker.

I sat.

At least this stop had benches.

Next bus?

Fifteen minutes.

ARGH.

I was very much in HALT.

However, I was also taken care of.

I had grabbed a bottle of water at the store and drank it.

Sometimes I think there should be another “T” at the end of the acronym–hungry, angry, lonely, tired, thirsty.

I felt better.

Then a friend called me back.

We chatted until the next bus came.

Gone was the lonely.

I got to where I needed to go.

I got some food in me.

I got some humility.

And I got a ride home afterward.

Lovely.

And now, I am cozied up, with Karl the Fog doing his romantic it’s summer in San Francisco routine, in my studio.

I am grateful today for the experience if only from the standpoint that when I get back on my feet, whether it’s walking or riding my bicycle, or yes, eventually, my scooter, that I will have this to look back to and know how amazing it is to be mobile.

I have a depth of appreciation for this beautiful body I have been given to walk around in.

And a deep gratitude.

Now the only thing I need to do is continue to be gentle and nurturing to it.

To not listen to myself when I get into HALT.

To do the best I can to avoid it.

To love myself all the way to full recovery.

Kindness.

Tolerance.

Patience.

Love.

Check.

Check.

Check.

Double check.

You Look So Much Better

June 25, 2014

I mean, wow.

She was the first person to tell me that today.

But not the last.

“Oh, you look like your normal self!”

My friend exclaimed as I got us situated and made a cup of tea.

That could be because I took a shower this morning and I am getting the knack of getting in and out of the shower and using the stool.  It still takes a bit of balancing and maneuvering, and the stool isn’t exactly designed to be sat on, but it works and I showered.

Oh the feeling of a hot shower.

So good.

I also put on cheery clothes today and bright colors and I know that adds to the whole thing, that feeling of being on the upswing.

I am still using the crutches in the morning and the evenings when I have taken off the walking boot, though, the great gold goodness has yet to be retired.

That is now my goal, a more realistic goal than being out of the boot by the time I travel to Wisconsin, next Monday, rather, I will be in the boot, but I won’t have the crutches with me.

I should be able to hobble to and fro a bit without boot and crutch in the evenings when I am there, bathroom trips, etc.

I really cannot fathom having to get on an airplane with the crutches.

I have, however, conceded to use the wheel chair.

It just makes more sense and I will be more comfortable and it’s a courtesy thing, a not charged thing, a way to ease my transition from here to there, my ego can get the hell out-of-the-way, thank you for you thoughts, thank you for sharing, now get out of my way.

I’ll be rolling through SFO next Monday morning.

I will also be bringing all my ace bandages with me and when I do transition out of the walking boot, next Tuesday, I will be extra careful and wrap my ankle as I transition to shoes.

Slow it down.

That seems to be the message, again, and again, and again.

Let my body heal while my mind runs itself on a one way track of, “there’s something wrong, there’s something wrong, there’s something wrong,” ad infinitum.

There’s nothing wrong at all.

I believe that at my basest level, my brain just is that kind of scared, besides, when something’s wrong maybe I will go back to old habits and drink or pick up some drugs, or smoke, or eat some donuts, or I don’t know go crazy and rob a bank.

Or jump off the Golden Gate Bridge before they install the suicide barriers.

That frantic thought of “something’s wrong” keeps me out of the present, out of the gift of the moment, that is so perfect that I cannot handle it, I have to be moving rapidly forward trying to solve all future problems before they even arise so that I know what to do when that day comes.

That day ain’t never coming.

I shared this evening that this whole situation continues to be a gift that I was not expecting, that has allowed me to realize how much I need my community and how easily I can isolate by keeping myself too busy to see what’s happening in my heart.

My heart wants me to slow down.

My heart wants me to breathe and be present.

My heart wants to hear the gulls and the ocean and the robins singing when I sit quietly in the morning with the back door to studio open.

There is such peace there.

My brain wants to know what I plan on wearing to Burning Man.

ARGH.

Brain.

Give it a rest.

You’ll wear the same things you wore last year, like you always do, what ever happens to be in your closet.

My rule of thumb is I only buy something that I will wear here and there.

I haven’t a huge clothing allowance and to just spend money on something that I will only wear two weeks out of the year, is not a wise way for me to spend my clothing dollar.

“I love your polka dots!”

A girl friend said to me this evening.

I am covered, head to toe.

Literally.

Polka dot leggings.

Polka dot sock.

Polka dot shirt.

Polk dot earrings.

Heh.

All stuff I wear at Burning Man.

All stuff I wear here.

But at sometime, and it happens every fucking year, my brain latches on to what will I wear at Burning Man and how to go about collecting said socks, tights, dresses, hats, etc.

Can I just get to Wisconsin before I fixate on that?

Please.

I can fixate on Wisconsin too.

It’s going to be hot and humid.

But really, I don’t see that it’ll be any different from what I wear now.

I may pare it down a bit, the colorful stuff, but then again, I probably won’t.

I am who I am.

And I look more myself than I have in weeks.

Which is a relief.

It means I am getting better.

The ankle is still needing to be elevated more often than not and I am icing it still, but rather than five, six, seven, eight, times a day, it’s becoming twice a day.

Once in the morning when I am sitting and doing my meditation.

Once in the evening after I have finished writing my blog and I am enjoying a little evening snack and having a cup of tea.

There is definite improvement.

I put a little weight on it this morning, just a tiny bit, to test the waters, and knew immediately that today was not the day to push any further.

Don’t wreck the healing that has been happening out of impatience.

Patience.

Kindness.

Tolerance.

Love.

Those are my watch words and my principles.

I can use them to engage with the world.

I can use them to navigate the bad neighborhood in my head.

I get to use them to allow myself the time to continue on the path to recovery.

I am glad that I look better.

But really.

I am glad that I am allowing myself the process of healing more than anything else.

Inside and out.

That’s probably what shows the most anyhow.

I like to think that I reflect my interior state.

Right now it’s all polka dots.

And sunshine.

 

 


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