Archives for category: Anxiety

I woke this morning, too early, because biology said so; I had to pee. I wanted very much to go back to sleep, even though I knew the alarm would go off in less than an hour. It mattered less that I might not sleep more, than it did to honor my desire to do so. I snuggled up in the warmth of the blankets, and let myself drift off, favoring meditation if sleep didn’t come. Sleep didn’t come. Anxiety did, though. Like a blast through my relaxed near-dream consciousness, like a bucket of ice water on a challenge I didn’t volunteer for, like a pit in a pitted cherry in a particular good bite of pie, my anxiety surged very suddenly, and without obvious cause. Amusingly, I ‘heard’ a distant imagined voice, calm and professional, my own, in the background “please do not panic…” and smiled as I comfortably shifted my body to a more open position, and focused on my breathing. The anxiety quickly dissipated, lacking anything to feed on, and I continued to meditate until the alarm went off, and then for a couple of moments afterward; reacting to the alarm often starts my day badly, for some reason, perhaps some association with the word ‘alarm’, itself, and I often take a couple of minutes to breath and relax before I rise.

Like any muscle, my will becomes stronger (and healthier) the more I exercise it. Practicing good emotional and physical self-care pays off over time, although initially I wasn’t really  certain that such small changes would ‘matter’. Isn’t that the thing though? If I had insisted for myself that small changes, better practices, and that really committing to the practices that feel good to me were of no value – or no lasting value – or that I ‘won’t be able to make that work’, I most assuredly would have achieved what I was certain of – they wouldn’t have been of much value. Don’t get me wrong on this one, I am not decrying the value of empirical evidence, or sneezing on the standards of proof in science. I am suggesting that it is rather obvious, regardless what can be proven effective, that we have the power to render the most effective treatment worthless by undercutting our will, or by defining our successes as failure, or simply by choosing to identify the outcome as ‘not working’. This is not a matter of ‘faith’ – because the things I am practicing are not ‘faith-based’ practices. Like any practices, if I don’t actually practice them, they will not be effective – it is my choice to apply myself, to enact my will, to see change manifest because I choose it. There are verbs involved…but there is also acceptance, and awareness involved.

Tree of Life, Tree of Knowledge... or just a tree? You choose.

Tree of Life, Tree of Knowledge… or just a tree? You choose.

Why am I on about this today? For a friend, actually. It seems he has lost his will, and is surviving life on his ‘won’t’ instead. It sucks to see him suffer – worse still, it sucks to see him not only choose suffering, but to invest heavily in the continuation of suffering as though the suffering itself has great value, or is the desired outcome. Hell, maybe it is. He does get to choose. I feel both sympathy and compassion for his struggle; I have my own such moments. Maybe we all do, now and then. We each make our choices. There are verbs involved. Our results vary. We are each having our own experience. The map is not the world. The journey is the destination.

My friend has been exposed to all these ideas, himself. He has a lot of people who support and encourage him (although he often doesn’t recognize or acknowledge it). He very specifically enacts his ‘won’t’ at many decision-making points, and defines many moments as failures, accepting that there is no possible good outcome available to him. He often makes a point of limiting his perceived options, and holds onto life-goals that appear specifically chosen to be as far out of reach as possible, while firmly refusing himself any opportunity to see more of life’s potential. It makes my heart ache to see him suffer…and it confuses me to see that it is willful, and so carefully crafted. I am powerless to help – because these are his choices to make, and he makes them. Another lesson on attachment, perhaps, and a reminder that some of my own self-inflicted suffering is a matter of choosing (poorly) to find myself responsible for someone else’s self-inflicted suffering by assigning myself some portion of the task of alleviating that suffering. It doesn’t work that way with self-inflicted suffering; only the self can choose to let that one go.

The loveliness of life is not visible so easily if my eyes are closed; knowing this may not be enough to decide to open my eyes. That's how choice works.

The loveliness of life is not visible so easily if my eyes are closed; knowing this may not be enough to decide to open my eyes. That’s how choice works.

Today is a good day for good self-care, and for loving the being of light that inhabits this fragile vessel. Today is a good day to be compassionate. Today is a good day to consider more than the obvious options, and choices that didn’t make the first list. Today is a good day to be open to success, and to accept failure as an opportunity to learn and grow. Today is a good day to love, and to put myself at the top of my own agenda. Today is a good day to change the world within.

I intend to approach this one somewhat thoughtfully, and with great care, perhaps working on it through the day rather than dashing it off in-the-moment, over coffee.

Pausing to reflect on what is, what isn't, and what has changed.

Pausing to reflect on what is, what isn’t, and what has changed.

Yesterday was an interesting mix of personal achievement, small stressors, emotional moments, and OPD; it was short on connection, and long on opportunities to practice good emotional self-care, without being tragic, or overwhelming. The challenges of yesterday didn’t linger, or carry over to this morning. I am smiling, even though I slept poorly and too little, plagued by nightmares so vile and personal that more than once I sat quietly for many minutes, trembling, controlling my breathing and reassuring myself that it would be safe to return to sleep, while the denizens of The Nightmare City mocked me in the background. I woke this morning, free of any strain or lingering suffering, any hint of nightmares behind me; they were only dreams.

My Big 5 relationship values haven’t changed much since I recognized their importance and framed them up in simple words. The importance of Respect, Reciprocity, Consideration, Openness, and Compassion still seem obvious to me and still feel non-negotiable.  I’ve changed some, though, and grown as a person. I am more easily able to live up to my own values, even in relationships where those values are not shared, and in associations in which emphasis is placed on very different values than those I find comfortable, myself. I am more easily able to refrain from taking someone else’s values personally, too, a necessary skill in a world where free will offers so many options. My will to live my Big 5 is strong; I still need lots of practice. I am learning to treat myself with great kindness when I don’t live up to these profoundly powerful values in some moment; they are a lot to live up to, and I am quite human. There are more opportunities to grow, to improve on how I live my values, and most importantly – on how I communicate those values to others, set limits and boundaries relevant to my values, and express what I need from others to feel well-treated, appreciated, and heard.

There are going to be moments, and relationships, in which my Big 5 values are not shared, not honored, not valued – or just not reciprocated (as in those among us whose approach is ‘sure, I like it when you are considerate to me, but I have no intention of being considerate to you’ – a circumstance that plays out in the world with unfortunate frequency, in a variety of interactions). Commonplace, really, and an experience that tests my ability to be accepting and content, compassionate, and attentive to the actions that support my needs; being treated poorly can be very distracting from the things that matter most.  Why someone else has the values they do, why they take the actions they take, or make the choices they do aren’t really my concern. How I treat myself matters a great deal.

The path is mine to choose... or not.

The path is mine to choose… or not.

The journey from The Big 5 to The Art of Being is an exciting adventure. The path veered sort of suddenly, it seemed, and metaphorically I found myself at an unmarked trail-head, wondering whether the sudden feeling of panic and dread were just demons howling within; it’s not a journey my demons can make with me, and one by one as they fall, or take a more subdued tone, the load lightens enough for this more challenging – and more rewarding – change in direction. I am ready to enjoy me, myself, so much more than I knew I could, before now.

Opening the next door...

Opening the next door…facing the next mystery…taking the next step.

Let’s be clear; there are still practices to practice, self-care needs that require continuous awareness and management, choices to make, verbs to put into action… none of this is ‘over night’ or even ‘easy’; the most profound epiphany is simply a door left ajar, and it remains a matter of intent, will, and action to step over that threshold.  Progress often comes with new hurdles – moments of recognition that not only am I walking my own path (and must) but also that the direction I take is so exclusively my own I am also having to learn new skills to cope compassionately with relationships straining under the weight of change. Any increase in autonomy, in self-direction, and in improved boundary-setting hold the potential to be met with resistance, objections, a lack of understanding, or a lack of support; knowing this does not make those moments less challenging, and it does not direct my decision-making. So often it is tempting to yield, to give up, to say ‘okay, you win, I’ll just…’ – only… I won’t ‘just’, anymore. I have chosen to live my life, mindfully by preference and intention, practicing the practices that make that a reality – and like solar walkway lights in the garden, the small improvements in the quality of my experience over time, the improvements in emotional resilience, and those powerful ‘aha!’ moments when something works just as I had hoped it would, add up to something pretty wonderful, illuminating – and incredibly encouraging when I face the darkness that sometimes still catches me unaware.

Mistakes will be made.

Mistakes will be made.

The Art of Being is like an exotic destination vacation; I dream of reaching that place, I study, I explore the options for getting there, I investigate what it may be like before I get there… I practice the skills, thinking, and behavior that are most likely to take me there, with the fervor of saving up for a long-desired vacation; incremental change over time is a reliable mode of transportation on a journey of personal growth. I smile more, lately, as though sharing a precious secret with a very close friend. You know where this is going, right? That precious friend is the woman in the mirror; without her, not one step of this journey can be made.

Today is a good day to face the world with a smile, making my own way, on my own terms. Today is a good day to be able to count on myself to treat myself well. Today is a good day for change.

I am up early enough on a Saturday to get to the Farmer’s Market before it’s mobbed. I don’t enjoy crowds. I move easily enough through them, but doing so tends to push me into a very focused, navigation-oriented manner of thinking that pushes aesthetic to the side in favor of things that feel more about survival. I like to move more gently through my experience. I enjoy being aware, and at leisure. I like to take my time. Those are thing I enjoy. Chances are if you know me, or if you speak to someone who does, on the matter of how I move through my experience moment to moment, it is quite likely that ‘slowly’, ‘gently’, and ‘aware’ are not going to be the first words to come to mind. I practice. A lot.

I am thinking about my imminent departure for the Farmer’s Market, this morning. Camera in hand, I am entertaining myself with a wee scavenger hunt; I am looking at it as an exercise in improving my awareness, too. I giggle when I think of a favorite cartoon hero, Sterling Archer, and his ‘total situational awareness’; it is his stated sense of self, but from the viewer perspective, he haplessly bumbles through quite a lot of his experience, demonstrating extraordinary good fortune every bit as often as any detailed explicit awareness. His experience is very much his own; it differs greatly from the perspective on his experience held by others. I, too, often feel quite aware of my surroundings, my experience, the presence, behavior, and demeanor of others…I have substantial empirical evidence that I am far less so than I tend to feel. ‘Why?’ is not the relevant piece of the puzzle, generally. ‘Why’ only becomes relevant in any way if something about the why is problematic for achieving goals, making desired changes, or negatively impacts my quality of life, overall. So… let’s not worry so much about ‘why’ today? 🙂

Some moments only reveal their beauty when I slow down to notice it.

Some moments only reveal their beauty when I slow down to notice it.

One reason I began carrying my camera everywhere (some weeks or months after starting this blog, actually) is that my camera has become a tool for bringing me back to a mindful moment, and reconnecting with ‘now’ – by raising my awareness of some detail, in order to get a picture of it. I move through my experience so quickly, in spite of my joy in slowing things down; taking a picture requires a willful pause, and careful consideration of what I see. The pictures themselves have the additional wonder of holding the power to bring me back to that specific mindful moment, at a later point. In time of greatest stress, doubt, or despair, flipping through my photographs one by one puts other moments in front of me for consideration. They become keys to the locks in my chaos  and damage that sometimes cause so much suffering; when I am very distressed, agitated, or blue, I have trouble connecting with better moments and returning to a place of emotional equilibrium. The pictures tend to help me leverage the power of a disinhibiting injury – to be liberated by the very qualities that sometimes limit me. The pictures help me, over time, tweak my implicit bias in a more positive direction; I don’t photograph things that cause me pain, or further suffering, generally speaking. (There are artists whose creative strength takes them down those dark paths, and I am awed by their power to reveal, and to heal.)

I don’t assume that because I have the injury I do, that these practices are exclusively beneficial to me; your results may vary, and there are verbs involved, but actions do have consequences – surely you would experience results of your own. 🙂

I used to fight stress and panic by shutting myself off, by withdrawing into myself and cutting off the world.  It didn’t actually work out that way, and I suffered in spite of my withdrawal, sometimes more so by building a solitary emotional prison, invisible and alone. I tend to feel more angry and encroached upon than comforted, or safe, by trying so hard to be less open, less available, less outspoken. I end up resenting the lack of consideration, the lack of reciprocity from others, and the constant pinging on my consciousness of the world. On the other hand, it is not a better deal to launch emotional weapons of mass distraction into a crowd, or to impose my very intense emotional life on others, over their explicit objections or boundary setting. Quite a puzzle.

I am still a student. There are questions, and more to learn. For now, I am walking my own path, and today it leads to the Farmer’s Market, camera in hand, to see the world.

Events unfold as they will, and I can raise my level of acceptance instead of my level of frustration (or despair, or…) – with some effort, and commitment – or I can stand idly by while my frustration increases, until… well, there’s the thing. The ‘until…’ part is somewhat individual, isn’t it? Some people lash out at others, some people turn on themselves, and being so very human there is the unpredictable complication of what limits any one of us has on resources to manage our intense emotions; we haven’t all got the same tools in our toolbox.  Frustration, fear, anxiety, rage, grief, despair…these are all every bit as human as delight, joy, love, contentment, and bliss. I spend more time attempting to manage the negative ones; I often don’t accept them in myself, and my own disappointment piles on top, and then I sometimes add insecurity about how someone else might also be disappointed – or ‘worse’ – and self-criticism that I am ‘indulging’ in such a pointless negative waste of precious time. Ouch. I’ve been pretty hard on myself, and too often. Emotions are part of the journey; making room in my heart to have my experience without judgment gives me room to grow, and a chance to more easily move on.

Perspective offers a chance to make changes.

Perspective offers a chance to make changes.

Have you ever stopped to consider that in the privacy of your own heart, your own thoughts, you can be as kind and compassionate with yourself as you choose – and that ‘no one is watching’, or able to change how you treat yourself within? That’s yours, 100%. Make it as luxurious, as loving, as kind, as wholesome, or as deep as you like; it is all yours. With that in mind…why would any one of us treat ourselves poorly?

Realistically, I am finding I can nearly always change something. That seems simple enough. I forget it sometimes. The biochemical elements of emotions, the challenges I specifically have as an individual, and the fundamental reality of the nature of will are such that it isn’t always easy to choose to feel differently than I do; it is still an option, and still possible. Now if I can learn to do it without experiencing ‘struggle’…

We choose our path.

We choose our path.

…But is the difficult path difficult because it is difficult, or is it difficult because it appears so, and I have adopted the assumption that it will be so for that reason alone? My traveling partner said something yesterday that has been lurking in the background, keeping me thinking about this idea of what we perceive to be, becoming our experience because we choose the experience based on the assumptions we make due to our perception – whether that perception is accurate or not, whether it is an experience that can be communicated, even whether we are ‘really’ having that experience we perceive ourselves to be having at all. There’s a lot of free will muddling up the everyday distinction between ‘real’ and whatever else the options are.

Storms pass.

Storms pass.

Today is a good day to make choices about how I experience my experience. Today is a good day to be awake, aware, and open to the possibility that the world is not entirely as I see it – and that others see it differently than I do, either way. Today is a good day to treat myself with kindness – why wouldn’t I do at least that for me, today? Today is a good day to change my perspective on the world.

“We are each having our own experience.”

...Stormy weather.

…Stormy weather.

I don’t actually remember, now, where it was I first heard that specific sentence, carrying the significance it now does. A book I read? My therapist? My traveling partner? I hang on to it on mornings like this one. Maybe you have them, too? Those mornings that begin well… I mean, really really well…then unexpectedly slide sideways on some icy emotional sidewalk? Yeah. Those suck. At least…they suck in the moment that I feel the good morning slip out from under me, stranding me in some very real, very challenging emotional moment of some entirely other variety.

Afterwards, sometimes days, sometimes hours, I often find that I’ve learned something important about someone who matters to me a great deal. It’s worth noting that I only seem to have these experiences with the people in my life who do matter most to me. That’s meaningful…but for now it generates only questions, and most of those are not of the useful sort.

Growth can be a lonely process.

Growth can be a lonely process.

I am continuing to re-read The Four Agreements. More studying, really. I find immense value in some of the simple concepts within this small, humble book. It’s on my kindle, but I am reading it from a bound book, to feel the weight of it in my hands, and connect with the experience in some more physical way, somehow. This morning, “Be impeccable with your word” rang out in my consciousness in conversation, and supported me; I was able to be more simply honest about my experience than I am often able to do without seriously escalating emotionally. Learning to let go of the sensation of ‘not being heard’ in order to speak freely, regardless, has challenging moments. There is balance and perspective to learn here, too. There are opportunities to learn to soften my tone, and choose words with care – still respecting my experience, and sharing it frankly, and simply. That isn’t always well-received – and it isn’t ever going to be ‘always well-received’, because we are each having our own experience; there may be things about what I have to say about mine, that are not a comfortable fit for someone else’s understanding of their own.

Those complicated mismatches between individual experiences, perspective, emic realities, maps – hell, even vocabularies and context – push another of The Four Agreements to the forefront this morning, “Don’t take anything personally.” It’s hard to be simpler than that. I am having my own experience, understood solely with my own understanding, filtered entirely through my own filters, limits, beliefs, and assumptions. I find myself wondering if all conflict, everywhere, comes down to one attempting to convince another to adopt an experience that is not shared… ‘just because’. Does the reason matter? Life and love are not a race to be won, or a competition in which someone ‘comes out on top’, or a battle… I guess, unless you’re in battle. At this point in life, my lack of interest in ‘being right’ sometimes sets me up to cave to pressure, rather than simply being.  That’s complicated. If I defy who I am to yield to someone else’s idea of who I am, or what I have said, I will neither be heard, nor will I be who I am. Strange puzzle.

This moment. Just this one, right here.

What about this moment? Just this one, right here.

You are not the person I think you are. You are who you are. I am not the person you think I am. I am who I am. Suddenly, this morning’s sturm und drang pulls the nature of attachment, and the gift of acceptance into focus. My irritation passes, and I feel more able to treat myself kindly; being poorly understood sucks. Being dismissed or rejected sucks, too. Feeling hurt over those things is still more suckage… but here’s something that doesn’t suck; being poorly understood isn’t about me, and there may be occasions when however clearly I express myself, the message is not wanted, and will not be heard. So not about me. Being dismissed or rejected? I guess I could take that personally – I’m pretty cool to hang out with – but why put myself through that? Choice is what it is, and there is no obligation for someone to choose me, in any moment, of any day, in any relationship. Free will being what it is, it makes sense to feel quite wonderful to be chosen – but probably healthiest to utterly disregard rejections, beyond moving on to other things with my time; there is no requirement that I be chosen, ever. Suddenly, feeling hurt dissipates, and I am free, myself, to choose.

Still, it’s not the morning I faced with such eagerness. That’s more than a little disappointing. I can choose, too, to invest in that disappointment, nourish it, grow it, and let it take over my day, filling my heart with resentment, and hurt feelings… or not. I think this morning I choose ‘not’. There’s a whole day ahead of me, with unknown delights that could so easily be missed if I am weeping in my coffee over someone else’s experience.

Each moment has its own beauty, its own significance, and its own worth.

Each moment has its own beauty, its own significance, and its own worth.

Today is a good day to enjoy my experience, and create compassionate space for others to similarly enjoy theirs, without taking personally the choices they make. Today is a good day to breathe deeply, to smile, and to notice that I am okay right now.