Good morning and happy March, dear readers. Once again, I’ve narrowly escaped the horrific clutches of February, and emerged from the darkness and madness of winter. This time, I found myself more at ease than practically any winter before, and the disquiet, discontent, and disturbing suicidal rumination of my brain were but a dull roar. All praise and credit due to a good job, an excellent circle off support, and medication management that was both well-tended and based on accurate diagnoses. Truly, no one can survive winter alone or without help.

Since my natural wake up seems to have settled on about 6:30 am, I’m writing this entry while the other human enjoys a morning without an early alarm, and blessed be. R has been dealing with an impinged nerve in his back for the majority of 2024, and the consistent, often flaring pain had been exhausting. He’s been x-rayed, MRI-ed, and given prescriptions for medications as well as physical therapy; this week he finally got a steroid injection in the spine, and we’re hopeful it takes effect before long, although the doctor told him it could take as much as 2 weeks before he felt significant results. Since we are cohabitating, I don’t feel too selfish saying this has been a wearing process for me as well. I have a newfound respect for partners of folks with chronic pain and lasting injuries, and have seen for the first time (in a long time) the deep frustration of dealing with the medical field and all it’s hoops to clear in order to obtain care.

Just as I’ve gotten a bit callous to the idea of surgery (I’ve had 13 in the span of 9 years before, what’s the big deal?), I’ve numbed a bit in relation to major medical needs…that’s just how one lives, isn’t it? However, I know my thinking is skewed and based on a long history of my own adventures in Medicine Land and Hospital Times. Not everyone deals with these things so often. In fact, I’m pretty damn privileged to have both survived and thrived as a long-term patient of American medicine. I know the ins and outs of doctors appointments, referrals, specialists, hospitals, insurance, recovery, and had advocates/helpers/family to assist with those things, which would have been otherwise unmanageable. I’m very, very, very lucky.

In any case, R is sleeping after a painful night, on the futon I’ve arranged on the floor beside the couch, which seems to be the most comfortable spot to do so. I’m awake, so the animals are awake (and needy), and the sun is rising on this fine weekend day. I’ve never been one with an overabundance of hope, but I feel it in the most cliche of ways when there’s more sunlight, and birds chirping outside, and warmer, milder days. There’s rumor of a snowstorm coming later this weekend, but we’ve by and large had a very gentle season. I’m sure this has contributed to my mood and helped me find footholds in the darkness. I do miss the quiet beauty of snowfall at night, but that seems to be the tradeoff. Never-mind the clear proof that our environment isn’t what it used to be, and never-mind the indications that summer will be absolutely brutal this year. For now, I’m quite pleased to be able to visit the balcony without bitter, biting cold, and I’ve taken advantage of the same to soak in a bit of that sunlight in the afternoons when I’m home from work before sunset (thank all the gods.)

As far as my career is concerned, I continue to navigate middle management with growing knowledge and occasional grace. I’ve been drafted into the Brave Leader program, an 8-month curriculum for those who wish to become more effective, forthright, honest and even vulnerable as leaders. Vulnerable? Yes, well, that’s what you get for having Brene Brown as the author of note for readings. Knowing me, and my professional reliance on both physical armor (dressing up to feel safe) and my perfectionist backstory, vulnerability is something I’ve never associated with being a Boss. I am, however, feeling safer and more securely attached to my job than ever before, and the desire to navigate the discomfort of growth and learning seems to outweigh my fears. I’ll commit here and now to attempt a blog entry after each session of the program, and try to discuss my reactions and thoughts on the reading in between the same. It really would be a shame and waste to squander the process by avoiding my own shortcomings, or not recording my progress, and I’d hate to do such an ambitious project without remembering properly. As you know, dear reader, memory is not my strong suit, so I’ll be relying on the written accounts to refresh my recollections, someday.

Maybe it’s the upcoming springtime, maybe it’s my career taking off in ways I’d never dared dream, either way I’m feeling the need to express myself and be creative. It’s a lovely thing, since motivation can be extremely elusive and wavering in my life. I’m finding myself thinking of new ideas for artistic endeavors, and exploring my options beyond the daily work-and-home life. Nothing is yet solid, but expect great things to come. I’m excited to see wherein my energy will be focused, and am looking forward to sharing a bit more of the right-brain side of my soul with you all. Will it be performing in a written work? Or writing on new topics in a new (probably online) venue? Who could say. Instead of gritting my teeth through the doldrums of deep winter, I find myself seeking to stretch and expand my wheelhouse, and share the joy while I do.

Well, my coffee needs refreshing and my few homework items need attention, since I’d rather not rush them all on Sunday evening and feel flustered and stressed all weekend. It’s an excellent day to be living, and I love feeling the value in it. I’ll be channeling these good thoughts and emotions into a restful yet active weekend, and I hope the same for you, dear readers. At the very least, have the coffee…There’s exciting times ahead; you’ll want to be awake.