Archives for the month of: October, 2018

I’m thinking about a lovely compliment I received last night. A few years ago, I’d have walked in the glow of those words, maybe for days, without a hint of humility, or wisdom, or a moment to reflect and gain perspective. I like compliments. lol This time, I smiled, expressed appreciation for the lovely words, and reminded myself that words are plentiful, easily shared, and not something to become attached to, generally speaking.

I’m very human. No compliment can overwrite my humanity and make me something – or someone – other than this human being who I am. Here’s the thing about lovely compliments (and vile insults); they are words. Perspective shared by someone else. Their perspective. However much those words themselves may carry a valued message, they are not my words, not my perspective, and there is no easy way to narrow things down to be entirely certain they are wholly true,Β when it comes to a compliment. I’m not even sure that matters; the truth of a compliment doesn’t reduce its power to send me straying from my path. So. A smile. A moment. A lovely compliment.

Then I begin again, and move on with my day or evening or moment, on my own path.

Don’t let compliments (or insults) distract you from your forward momentum in life, if you can avoid it. I’m not saying don’t enjoy the moment, but I find that remaining connected with my sense of self can tend to insulate me from wandering off my path tempted by lovely words. πŸ˜‰

You are getting that all of this also applies to negative words, criticism, insults, hurtful mis-statements, lies? It’s no more personal than a lovely compliment, inasmuch as even when entirely intentional on the part of the person delivering the words, those words are still more about that person than they are about you – a statement of their beliefs, perceptions, or understanding, at best, and no more a reflection of who you truly are than an astrology reading; not a reflection of you at all, unless you choose to adopt it.

Walking my own path, one step at a time.

I think a moment more about lovely compliments, and hurtful insults, then notice I forgot to make coffee. LOL I guess it’s time to begin again. πŸ˜‰

Language is funny stuff. I sit here amusing myself with rephrasing passive-aggressive posts in my feed, and vague-booking posts, and always/never posts… basically just reading posts and rewriting them in my head to be clearer (to me) and more frank and… more honest.

Seriously, though, what’s with the bullshit that fills up our thoughts and clutters our minds? “I always…”, “you never…”, “you always…”, “I never…” We could just start and end right there with that one. Those are not just wild exaggerations (and for my own amusement, I’ll say “they always are”, which is likely only mostly true) – they are the sort of subtle lies that set us up for failure.

“Can’t” versus “Haven’t”.

“Always” and “never”.

“Have to” and “Can’t”

“No one ever talks about…” (seriously with that foolishness?)

We put our experiences in context, but rather unfortunately I suspect, we own not only our experience, not only our “content”, but also our context – which we get to craft ourselves from whatever notions and moments we think make sense together. lol We’re not super skilled at it, and fill our heads with narratives about good guys and bad guys, and us versus them, and walls and borders and restrictions… still sucking at real boundary-setting, still sucking at being our authentic selves, still sucking at honest self-reflection…

…Still sucking at accepting and encouraging the varying experiences of others, which differ from our own…

…And we wonder why our lives are filled with drama? LOL Omfg – because we create our experience specifically that way!Β 

We (and by we, I specifically mean you and I) can do better. We can for sure do differently. We have choices.

Choose your words with care. You aren’t only communicating to others, you are setting a tone for yourself, crafting the narrative of your life that you may share with others intending to communicate something about yourself, and literally creating your own understanding of the world. I’m saying your words matter, specifically for that reason.

Treat your own sanity well, specifically by practicing using skillfully frank, and yes also kind, language with and to yourself. Stop trying to “sell it” and just be clear.

I know, I know, this is me saying this, and you know I love some words… Just, …choose them as you would anything else that really really matters. πŸ™‚ Because they do.

Ready? It’s time to begin again. πŸ˜€

Sorry about that… I, um… forgot to write at all. I’m even a tad embarrassed by that, particularly since I carefully plan this time, and follow through quite methodically most days, even to the point of occasionally questioning the value in doing so. Then… Well… There’s this. This is different than that. I quite honestly forgot… like… a bunch of times, and even in spite of some reminders (several).

My habits sometimes break. It’s “a feature” of my TBI, as near as I understand it, myself, anyway. Sometimes I just… wander off without some habit or routine that I reliably practice. Even after years. It’s a thing. A quirk. I’m… quirky. lol. I “always” was, I just didn’t also understand that experience (and so many others) in the context of my TBI, that came later. I had other reasons and excuses, and ways of understanding myself, and I suppose they also served my humble needs for as long as they lasted. I’ve even learned, over time, not to beat myself up about my quirks, my forgetfulness, my challenges – I mostly just look that moment over with great care, and a desire to understand both the circumstances and the outcome with greater clarity, and to learn from it what I can, and move on from there. Life doesn’t have to be some sort of frenetic, punishing endurance race, or some lengthy proof of worthiness. How much better (immeasurably) has life been without all that entirely extra not very helpful performance pressure? I mean… who made those rules, anyway?

So… yeah. I woke up some days ago, and… didn’t write. I noticed way later in the evening, and I was too tired to take that opportunity to write, at the end of that day. Then, the next day, I made some excuse, or slept in a little bit, or… just wandered off. I enjoyed a lovely weekend – so lovely – and today was a fairly routine Monday. Today was the day I realized my writing habit had broken, rather odd for it to be that habit, but… there it is.

The morning started off rather peculiarly, and perhaps that what it took to get my attention, that a valued practice, a habit that serves a purpose, had broken? I woke feeling fairly groggy and sort of… unstuck in time. I found myself going through all the motions of the routine morning routines, only, strangely out of sequence, and rather random. I’d barely gotten through some yoga, a shower, and dressing for the day, when I was stepping out the door with my keys in my hand, and heading to the car. That’s super odd; I don’t do mornings in that hurrying-to-work fashion anymore. My days are built around a leisurely start. What the hell? I spent the morning drive into the office musing about how strange it was that I’d broken my writing habit. That I’d also broken my leisure mornings habit didn’t hit me right away. I didn’t notice in time, or with sufficient ability to connect all the dots, and I was already parked at the office when I really understood that I had literally gotten ready for work and departed immediately… it wasn’t even 5:00 am, and I was already at my desk. I hadn’t had any coffee. I was definitely on auto-pilot. I made a promise to myself that I would take a break “a little later” and write, “sometime after I’m caught up…”

…Many hours later, having utterly forgotten about writing, my work day ends, I make the drive home, I arrive safely at my residence… still no writing. I had forgotten about it completely. Well, shit. Okay… I sit down and I write. About not writing. lol That may seem odd all on its own, but without so doing, that habit would remain broken, potentially even permanently; I’ve gotten to know how some of these quirks work. I’ve wandered off from all sorts of things over the course of a lifetime… lost things that I’d carefully put away, made astonishing changes in my life, ended relationships because I somehow… forgot about the whole thing.Β  lol Just… forgot. It’s more than a bit aggravating, and fairly unpredictable. So, I do the needful thing, and reinforce the desired behavior. By doing the desired behavior. In this case, I sit down and write. lol

Quirky’s okay. Broken, too – even broken is okay. Sometimes what we love and make use of most can’t easily survive the wear and tear of our affection. Things break. Even habits. We fix, repair, rebuild, re-purpose, modify, alter, adjust, adapt – we do what is needful. I mean, when we know what that may be, I suppose. I don’t mind being quirky – it turned out, perhaps not so surprisingly, that a great many of the things I am well-regarded for, loved for, or entertained by, myself, are “quirks” I might not have, if I didn’t also have the challenges, injuries, and experiences that I’ve had. πŸ™‚ I rather like this woman I see in the mirror, these days. I’m okay with her quirks.

It’s been a long-ish journey, and not all of it has been pleasant, but it’s mine. πŸ™‚

I’ll just begin again. πŸ˜‰

It is a rainy night. The cars make that certain specific shhh-shhh that they do when it is a rainy night. I listen to it fall. I listen to the drips cascading leaf to leaf on the yellowing big-leaf maple leaves. I notice the plonkΒ  Β plonkΒ  Β of large splashes dropping to the side of an empty decorative flower-pot made of thin sheet metal. I don’t recall leaving it lay there, purposeless. I enjoy the sound. The wind chime stirs, and the tinkle and soft tones mix in the breeze with the sound of the cars on the too busy street. Night fell. I hadn’t noticed until now, really. I’ve been too busy.

Too busy.

Shit. Right. I gotta do something about that. πŸ™‚ I’m glad the weekend is here. I’ll use it to begin again.

What’ll it be? There’s a next step ahead of you, right now… will you take it? Do you have something in mind? Is the future as yet unscripted, unplanned, undecided…? Where are you headed?

The map is yours to write…

So… What’s next? It’s time to choose something – big or small.

Journey

It’s not about how many steps you take, so much as it is about where the journey takes you.

It’s time to begin again. πŸ™‚