Archives for the month of: September, 2013

This morning I woke feeling cross. I also woke with a nasty headache, and serious pain with my arthritis, too. I feel stiff. Hell, I’ll say it – I feel ‘old’. lol.  I’m not tired.  My morning coffee is just right. There is no element of the morning thus far that lacks harmony or a relaxed satisfying comfort.  I just hurt, and I’m cross.  Pain is enough to result in a less than pleasant mood, of course – so why does my brain go looking for more? lol  Yep. This morning’s feature attraction – The Brain Attack.

Once upon a time, and up to very recently, a morning like this one would have set me off on a path of frequent angry rants, tantrums about inconsequential or unimportant bits of circumstance, and on a hunt for insidious (and illusory) patterns of misconduct in other people’s everyday utterly innocent behavior.  It isn’t fun to participate in that sort of thing, and even when I suspected my Brain was misleading me, I struggled to put it to rest or ‘find my way out’.  Something has changed… or at least, something has potentially changed, somewhat.  This morning is different.

This morning, feeling how I felt, and being so cross, I made a point of focusing on me while I showered and dressed. Instead of just going through the motions and filing it away under ‘morning task completion’ and moving on, I slowed down and took my time with myself.  I practiced ‘staying engaged and connected’ with myself.  I hadn’t noticed before that I sometimes wander off in  my thinking to places unknown, leaving my emotions unattended.  (I’m sorry if that seems… hard to follow, or lacking clarity. I don’t understand what I did differently today fully, myself, and I’m trying to share before I have an understanding. lol)  Giving myself the respect of staying ‘in the moment’ with myself first thing actually felt really good.

Meditation, a delicious latte, and some time playing SuperBetter and I find myself in a very different place.  It seems too simple – is this all it takes? I’m not bitching.  Oh, I still hurt, but I’m not making myself miserable with self-deception in the form of brain attacks on my emotional balance, along with physical discomfort.  it’s nice.

This morning, I did things differently, and got a different outcome.

A lovely flower to start the morning. Clematis on a rainy day.

A lovely flower to start the morning. Clematis on a rainy day.

Here it is, Sunday, September 29th.  I’ve been looking forward to it eagerly since I decided to participate in the World Wide WP  5k . I’m actually excited about this – and I woke this morning eager to drop my camera into my pocket and be on my way… only…

Autumn in Oregon

Autumn in Oregon

It’s raining! It’s raining rather a lot and pretty hard most of the day, off and on..  I watched the rain spatter the windows this morning, while I sipped my coffee.  I splashed puddles on my way to work, momentarily forgetting dignity or consequences, reveling in the sheer joy of weather, and wonder, and fun.  I am undeterred by a handful of rain drops.  😀  I’m nearing the starting line, too.  Once my work day ends (around 5 pm), I’ll double-check my camera (fully charged this morning), and be on my way.

I am getting a late start, but I haven’t changed my mind.  So, here’s the route I’m taking, a well-lit, well-paved, orderly 3.2 suburban miles along the edge of light industry; a ‘walking meditation’ contemplating the connections between where I work, and where I live, and exploring change (it’s not a common route for me to take, and there’s a lot going on):

3.2 miles

3.2 miles

See you on the other side…

…I so wasn’t kidding about that. 😀  It’s later now, and I’m warm and dry and waiting for a pizza delivery, listening to ‘house music’ and relaxing while Autumn’s furor continues to rage outside.  It didn’t just rain… it rained with a drenching ferocity that dares me to use some trite worn metaphor. lol.

It began simply enough, with a first step.

More damp than daunting. lol

More damp than daunting. lol

I took some more steps after that, and I got in some pictures when I could, concerned with getting my little camera wet, initially…

Debris strewn sidewalks challenge my balance.

Debris strewn sidewalks challenge my balance.

I stopped worrying so much about the rain on my camera, when it became clear that I needed to attend to the fallen branches promising a serious misstep to the inattentive – there’s a metaphor in there, I’m sure of it.

Soon, wet feet were a much bigger deal than wet  weather!

Soon, wet feet were a much bigger deal than wet weather!

I learned the value of dry socks in the Army. I even keep an extra pair in my desk at work. My feet were soaked within a few minutes of starting out, when I carelessly misjudged my effort to step over a puddle crossing a street, and I spent much of the rest of the walk thinking about getting home to a hot shower and clean dry socks.

So many puddles!

So many puddles!

There’s a lot to be said for being out in nasty weather, cold, wet to the skin, and uncomfortable, for really putting hot running water, clean dry clothes, and a pizza-on-the-way high on my list of things to be happy about.

A suburban wilderness along the way.

A suburban wilderness along the way.

So many quiet hidden places to see, flashes of something other than industry and residence, between expanses of hedge, or wall, or fence. The rain came down so hard for much of the walk that it was impractical to take some of the pictures I’d have enjoyed sharing with you.

Closer to home, I head around a rainy bend.

Closer to home, I head around a rainy bend.

As I neared the end of the walk, my pace quickened, and the rain came down harder, and the wind blew my hood down.

Autumn leaves, and wind-tossed trees nearing the finish.

Autumn leaves, and wind-tossed trees nearing the finish.

I didn’t care at all.  Hood down, head up; I walked on – and possibly with a huge grin, because my face hurts like I have been smiling all day.  This. Was. Fun. So much fun. The rain didn’t matter.  Whether or not I took pictures didn’t really make a difference in the grander scheme of things.  I did this, because I can now – it was a very good experience. That matters. 😀

 

 

 

 

 

I am awake before dawn, on a morning I had hoped to ‘sleep in’.  The rain is pounding insistently on the skylight, lest I overlook that it is raining. I enjoy rain, and the sound of it is slowly soothing my raw nerves. I woke face to face with my PTSD, in the form of profound anxiety, fear, a pounding heart, and a distinct awareness that ‘something’s wrong’.

It was quickly clear what woke me, when a firm click of a door elsewhere communicated what it could; frustration, hurt, anger, a limit reached, a moment passed… doors do not communicate with specificity, and it isn’t really possible to ask a door a clarifying question.  I dislike communication via door, whether it is a slammed door, or a firmly shut door, or simply a closed door that blocks communication in a non-verbal-message-sending way.  Doors lack precision for communication. So do drawers, windows, dishwashers, refrigerators, and all manner of household tasks and processes. These are not the tools of clear explicit compassionate communication, any more than yelling is.  We each have so much potential to communicate more clearly than via door – but I too have slammed a door, more than once.  😦

I am working on taking the approach that there is something to be learned here, or progress to be made – for me.  Maybe a chance to learn not to let doors talk to me in the first place? A door clicks closed; I hear the hurt feelings and rejection. Another click, firm and solid and no-nonsense; I may hear resolve and anger. Another click, a different room, a different hand perhaps; I could hear the sorrow, regret, and stress. The doors click closed. They open.  Occasional voices, and I put some space between my consciousness and the words; privacy matters, and it is a matter of respect and consideration.  We all have rough moments, bad times, things to work through. How do I take care of me when private matters between others impinge on my consciousness and drive my symptoms? Well, this morning, I meditated, then got up – sleep clearly wasn’t going to be possible at this level of wariness and anxiety – a latte just the way I like it [vanilla syrup, 4 shots of espresso, whole milk], and some quiet moments contemplating the falling rain.

This morning is an improvement over similar past mornings; I am calm.  I have a pretty serious aversion to angry confrontations, just in general.  Right now I am pleased to find that I am able to have my own experience, without becoming mired in unpleasantness borrowed from someone else’s experience.  A clear (and highly valued) improvement, for me, although I have to admit I don’t necessarily ‘understand’ this change on a level that would allow me to break it down by steps to see what exactly I am doing for this result.

I am able to have my own experience… this morning that has includes some moments of anger at being awakened on one of the rare days I could sleep in.  My experience includes feeling a bit uncomfortable about being able to overhear moments of private conversation, and regret that valued privacy isn’t ‘a given’ (pretty easy to hear through these walls).  My experience also includes feeling cheated out of a lovely morning with my loves, and some irritation about that, and recognition that the morning is far from over. Even sympathy, compassion, and sadness make an appearance this morning.  My feelings don’t seem unreasonable – and this morning they have not dominated my experience, or overwhelmed me. I felt them. I heard myself, and understand what my feelings say about my needs, and my now. Making room in my heart for my own feelings didn’t seem much of a challenge this morning… another improvement.

A rainy autumn sky.

A rainy autumn sky.

It’s later now.  It’s been about 2 hours since I woke to the sound of a door clicking closed. I’ve almost finished my latte. Daybreak has come, and the gray pre-dawn sky has shifted just a bit toward blue, still sullen, gray, and stormy. The trees beyond the window do a slow hula in the wind.  The house is snug and warm, and quiet.  I didn’t get to sleep in, but these quiet hours are precious to me,  and this morning they will not be interrupted by the realization that it is already time to go to work. That may be worth the unpleasant wake-up call.  The trees outside are whipped back and forth for a moment, as if nodding in agreement.  A difficult start to the morning, but it is no predictor of the day to come, and my ‘now’ is actually quite pleasant and serene.

There are only so many days, hours, minutes, ahead of us… and so much to yearn for, to learn, to do… today is Saturday, so for me it will be about mostly practical matters at home: laundry, gardening, a water change for the aquarium, getting ready for a new week and having a quick tidy ’round, in general.  These quite hours before the more organized hustle of task completion, and checking things off a ‘to do’ list, are precious, indeed. I enjoy taking some time for me.  🙂

Today I ventured forth in the late afternoon, for an appointment.  I felt tired, and I hurt, but some of these appointments are pretty hard to get, and rescheduling them is harder still.  When I stepped out into the chill of autumn, I felt a little foolish about my initial reluctance – I love fall! The bite in the air, the damp of passing drenching rains, and long hours of drizzle, the many lush greens, and bold russets and golds as the leaves begin to turn, the shhhh-shhhh of cars passing on rainy roads; all of it delights me and I feel recharged, energized, and inspired.

Walking my autumn path

Walking my autumn path

The afternoon was made more enjoyable by the power of love itself.  See, for years and years I just didn’t wear a coat. I didn’t always have one. Couldn’t always afford one. Didn’t always understand that having one represented ‘taking care of me’ on those cold days when being human isn’t enough to be warm and comfortable without one. (I’m a little embarrassed now and again, as I understand more about what I wasn’t understanding. lol. So far, being embarrassed hasn’t proven to be terminal, or particularly injurious.) Back to the coat, though… it is love. Funny that a coat could be love, but there it is.  One of my dear loves, who has put an unimaginable amount of devotion into supporting and nurturing me as I wade through my chaos and damage, took me shopping one winter for a coat. I needed one, and we live in a place that has a bit of winter every year.  He was so gentle and encouraging, and it was this amazing fun adventure together… every time I wear my coat, I feel wrapped in his love.  Today I walked, smiling, wrapped in my coat against the chill, wrapped in my memory of love protecting me against fear and insecurity.  It has been a lovely autumn day.  😀

I got to my appointment… I really fought to get this appointment, with this doctor, and hilariously all the fuss and bother amounted to a 10-minute experience… and one photograph of the gray autumn sky from the 8th floor of the VA hospital, eastward, across the river.  How many 10-minute appointments does it take to pay for a million dollar view? lol

The view was worth the trip.

The view was worth the trip.

I am tired. It’s evening. I’m out of words for now. 😉

I’m sitting here with a nasty headache (not unusual) and a feeling of anxiety that just isn’t entirely going away, but also isn’t attached to anything specific in my right-now experience.  I pause now and again, practice mindfulness, meditate for a few minutes, do some yoga. I ‘feel okay’ in the sense that life isn’t bad, even my mood is mostly quite nice, but I have a clear sense that there is commitment to practice and effort involved.  I’m not troubled by that, today, it seems rather obvious that a desired change would take actual effort; a verb.

Here are two photos taken within a few seconds of each other. Take a moment to consider this:

What we see often depends a great deal on...

What we see often depends a great deal on…

...what we are looking at and what we want to see.

…what we are looking at (and what we want to see).

So, there’s that.  So much is really a matter of (wait for it…) perspective. (Why does that delight me so? Why does it seem to offer so much hope?)  Yeah, I’m still meditating on perspective. It remains a worthy concept for contemplation, always fresh, always adding some twist on something, and not once have I had an experience where having more perspective was a disadvantage. Not even once.

Somehow, my musings on perspective brought me around to considering that archetypal question of childhood – “What do you want to be when you grow up?”  (How many times is any one of us asked that question? Who ever has an answer at that age? Hell, I’m still fucking working on that one!)  I found myself imagining that I had taken on first one career/calling, then another… and when I got to ‘lion tamer’ my creative thinking brain threw ‘tension tamer’ into the conversation! Suddenly, I was imagining making taming my stress some kind of vocation, a calling, a role – dressed for the circus big top, with a whip or a riding crop, making my anxiety do my bidding.  LOL! I delight myself with the image and imagine further a whole circus or carnival cast – with my anxiety somehow ‘The Main Attraction”.  Metaphors dancing with allegories in my busy imagination playground.  My in-the-moment stress and anxiety faded away, for the moment.  (Nice one, Brain, that was fun.) 😀

(I wonder if I can call upon my Tension Tamer any time I want to? Is this a new tool, or was it an experience?)

Mindfulness is making so much difference for me. Being a student of life and love is providing me with an education of such immense value that it could never be measured in grades, or student loan debt.  More questions than answers seems to be a way of approaching my experience that pays off in a lot more good days than bad, fewer sleepless nights, and less bitter rumination and emotional pain.  Finding security and contentment in ambiguity and uncertainty is an unexpected outcome, but here I am. More content. Healing. Finding more peace in my heart and more comfort with my experience. This is a good place to be, and in spite of the headache, and the arthritis pain, this is a good day [for me].

There’s this one thing that bums me out though… I can only share words about this experience.  I don’t know how to convey how utterly necessary it seems now, how helpful, how lovely.  Well, at least I do have words, and I can share those.  (I’ll count on you to read them, and take from them what is meaningful for you.)   🙂

Mindfulness sees the unexpected heron in a field along a busy road.

Mindfulness sees the unexpected heron in a field along a busy road.

There is still so much to learn.