Archives for category: Anxiety

I’m  not blue, and it is Monday. I was allowing my mind to coast a bit, considering first this, then that, hoping this morning’s writing would coalesce into something coherent, at least. I thought of songs I know themed on Monday and went to Google. It still hasn’t stopped surprising me how much coincidence, chance, and serendipity gently bring my attention to things that support my growth, my progress, or enhance it somehow. This morning, my Google adventure resulted in finding a blog with a post about songs themed on Mondays.  An interesting find, worth exploring further, and another traveler’s narrative.

The weekend was mostly about exploring spontaneity, and practicing doing so mindfully. For me, this proved to be an exercise in strangeness, and overall I enjoyed it enough to find it was well spent, although I don’t care to utterly abandon my preference for planning. 🙂

Flowers and sunshine.

Flowers and sunshine, whether I plan them or not.

Yesterday morning I shared breakfast with a dear friend, and took a stroll through the local farmer’s market, and beyond that spent the day in study and contemplation. I took a chance on a lovely day and did some yoga outside. In the afternoon, I lost track of time, meditating in a shady spot for what turned out to be a couple of hours well spent. Later, studying spontaneously became napping, and while I’m sure I needed the rest, it resulted in being awake far into the night, hyper-vigilant and overly aware of our house guest, my partner’s Dad, staying over.  I’m hoping I am sufficiently well-rested that the short night doesn’t come at an emotional cost later. Of course, there are choices that matter; choices affect thinking and behavior.

A new week begins. In these first moments of Monday I gently remind myself of the work ahead, of the professional self I carry to the office, of how that does or does not fit in with supporting my needs over time. I no longer allow an employer to call my shots as a human being; I am more than the sum of my professional skills.

I miss my traveling partner fiercely. There’s nothing to be done about it, of course, besides tend my heart with care, and honor and respect my emotional experience.

The resident feline models ideal behaviors for 'how to miss someone'; she takes care of her own business, until they return.

The resident feline models ideal behaviors for ‘how to miss someone’; she takes care of her own business, until they return.

I feel vaguely unsettled and uneasy this morning. It’s a small thing. The morning is a quiet and delightfully still morning…but there is a stranger sleeping in the room next to mine. I know, I know… my partner’s Dad. That’s family, right? Well…yes and no. Her family. For me, he’s a man I’ve met a number of times…3? 4? Hung out with briefly. I don’t actually ‘know’ him. I take my partner’s word for it that it is safe to have him in the house – that’s the simple truth of it. He is her family, she vouches for him as a human being. I don’t actually know him. I must have given her an odd look in the evening when she said something pleasant in passing about me having my quiet morning, this morning, since she’d be gone by… because, really, although the morning is quiet, the subtle tense awareness of a stranger in this space is palpable. I don’t really know how to communicate to someone else that this is an uncomfortable feeling for me. I am on alert, waiting…watching the clock.

I remind myself how unlikely it is that anything alarming, dangerous, frightening, or unexpected might happen due to his presence. I take some deep calming breaths. I return my awareness to the moment and cherish my wounded heart that will most likely never trust a human being solely because they are a parent, even of someone I care for (perhaps especially of someone I care for; I know them, and the damage left behind in childhood’s passing).  What reason do I have for that sort of trust? Then in a moment of beautiful perspective, I think of a friend and our broader circle of shared friends, all on ‘baby watch’; she’s past due and eagerly awaiting the birth of her son. How beautiful and wonderful to see a child already so well-loved, waited for, prepared for, who will be received in such total love! She is a woman of remarkable heart and grace, and wholly suited to motherhood, not because she has nothing else to offer the world, but because she chooses to offer her love as a mother, in addition to so much more, and does so skillfully. If I could have chosen someone to mother me, as I headed for mortal form, surely I would choose such as she. So… parents, not all bad. lol

Choosing awareness. Choosing presence. Choosing 'now'.

Choosing awareness. Choosing presence. Choosing ‘now’.

Balance. Mindfulness. Perspective. Sufficiency. Today is a good day for big ideas that require only one word. Today is a good day to change the world.

It’s been an interesting (strange) weekend so far. I rarely spend my weekend in an utterly spontaneous unscripted way. I nearly always have a plan…and a ‘plan B’, in case the plan falls apart because of circumstances, or someone else’s rampant spontaneity. This weekend, I had made loose plans, weeks in advance, that after being sick all week either no longer interested me, or for which I am frankly not quite well enough for the required level of exertion. So. I unplanned my weekend, moved things on my calendar, and made the choice to go ‘unscripted’. It’s been very relaxed, and I’ve enjoyed that. It’s also been exceedingly unorganized, which is somewhat discomfiting, and I feel less than ideally ‘productive’ – but my productivity isn’t being measured on my leisure time by anyone but me, so letting that go also lands on my ‘to do list’.

Yesterday, I decided to head out to the local aquarium store I favor, considering buying a couple of fish. It sounded like a nice outing. It was a lovely day. I enjoyed the walk to the light rail station and the ride downtown was fine…except…it was crowded and people were noisy. I quickly felt more than a little overwhelmed, and realized I was also particularly ‘noise sensitive’. My idea about going to the fish had completely lost its appeal by the time the train reached the downtown station – a midway point in the trip. I thought perhaps my blood sugar was low, and couldn’t recall if I’d had a bite of breakfast (no plan, remember?). I hopped off the train, hopeful that appropriate calories would put me right.

I was wrong. I mean – having breakfast was a good choice, no mistake there, but it didn’t improve my immediate experience of the moment. I dithered briefly, downtown, walking from the eastbound platform, to the westbound platform, and back – a couple of times. The fish no longer seemed a reasonable purchase, my journey felt more uncomfortable than pleasant, and really… I just wanted to go home.  I took advantage of my adult status to simply choose my course, based on my needs, and headed west, toward home, toward quiet, and toward the unknown. No plan.

I have a frontal lobe brain injury. I also have some impulse control issues as a result. Sometimes that’s been a characteristic I can easily identify as a limitation, or a handicap, but yesterday it was simply a characteristic. I unexpectedly decided to hop off the train at the Washington Park station, underground in the Robertson Tunnel, and take the opportunity to enjoy a sunny day at the zoo.  As with much of the day, it was an odd choice; it was midday, it was hot and sunny, it was a weekend and the zoo was crowded with children and families, and the zoo is currently undergoing a significant make over and there is a lot of construction. Spontaneity. No plan.

The map is not the journey...the plan is not the experience.

The map is not the journey…the plan is not the experience.

It was an excellent way to get in a 3-mile walk. I got some interesting pictures, and overheard some strangely amusing bits of conversation out of context. I was inspired by the engaged eagerness of bright children. I was startled and confused by a woman in very very tall stiletto heels; it was an odd footwear choice for the terrain. I was puzzled by the number of young girls dressed more for a night club than a longish walk, and wondered who they thought might be at the zoo that they needed to put themselves on display? I saw some animals; it is, after all, the zoo. In the midday heat, though, most of the animals were crashed out or out of view, and most of the entertainment was in the more easily observable human primates all around me.

Each having their own experience...

Each having their own experience…

...some, primates in cages...

…some, primates in cages…

...some 'free range' primates.

…some ‘free range’ primates.

There were non-primates, too, of course…

Some, exotic, and out of their element...

Some, exotic, and out of their element…

...an other creatures, more familiar, no less wondrous.

…an other creatures, more familiar, no less wondrous.

And wonders that weren’t about the habitats of beings as much as the journeys they take.

Inside the Robertson Tunnel, hearing the train approaching.

Inside the Robertson Tunnel, hearing the train approaching.

I was glad to get home, when I did. I enjoyed a cold brew, a rare treat, and followed with cold water, and many moments of rapt appreciation that plentiful safe drinking water of good quality is so easily available for me. I stood at the window of my suburban home and felt a deep gratitude for my good quality of life, when for so many just a roof, or a moment of calm, or a glass of potable water are luxuries. The feeling of contentment, and gratitude continued through my shower, my yoga, my evening meal, my evening… if for no other reason, the day leading to these moments was so worth it!

Today is similarly unscripted. There’s always the local farmer’s market…or the garden…or the art museum…the Saturday Market (which is also open on Sunday)…I could re-attempt my trip to the aquarium shop, but suspect the same arguments against it would find their way with me, too. Yoga, shopping, the county fair…it is a wide open world of places, and events, and people. I still find value in planning. The unlimited vast expanse of choices and opportunities finds me stalled and uncertain – at least for now, as I write, and sip my morning coffee.

I haven’t yet learned all I can from this unscripted weekend. There is more to do. Certainly there are even mundane everyday chores to account for – which I only now remembered! I find myself resisting the impulse to make ‘just a small plan…’. There is always this and more to contemplate, to cherish, to savor; I am having my own experience.

The sufficiency of one moment of real presence.

There is sufficiency in one moment of real presence.

Today is a good day to be present and engaged with my experience. Today is a good day to enjoy the moment. Today is a good day for smiles and acceptance. Today is a good day to be gentle with myself. Today is a good day to change the world.

It’s not a demand, really. “Always do your best” is the fourth of the Four Agreements. I keep coming back to it, however many learned tomes I immerse myself in, however many notes I take, or cross-references I make, however many relevant observations or light bulb moments come to me from hours of study, or therapy. I regularly find myself considering, again, the Four Agreements.  (My traveling partner had recommended The Four Agreements, a few weeks into our association, and before we were lovers. I often think of him with love when I am reading it.)

The basics, and a good starting point.

The basics, and a good starting point.

If I had truly mastered these, would I face so much struggle? Would I have hurt so much for so long? If they were nothing more than saccharine platitudes, would I find renewed relevance so frequently, or so often find myself thinking ‘yes, of course’ in contemplation of a missed opportunity to practice one or more of these simple ideas?

I have suggested, and shared, and gifted this small book so many times… As with anything else, there is a verb involved, and the will, choices, and actions of the individual. I think there is a relevant ‘old saying’… how about ‘you can lead a person to knowledge but you can’t make them think’? Oh that’s not it, is it? It’s ‘lead a horse to water…’, but not so very different, truly. 🙂 We don’t live each others lives, and ideally we don’t make each others choices, or undercut each others opportunities for growth; it’s nice to have help once in a while, but the life we live, the path we walk, the choices we choose belong to us alone. A person can read The Four Agreements as many times as they care to, and never benefit because they chose differently, or did not act on what they read. We have the amazing freedom to choose poorly, any time, to be short-sighted, to hold on to grievances, to struggle, to hold on to resentment; we choose who we are. We create our experience.

A rainy day flower. Beauty needs no excuse.

A rainy day flower. Beauty needs no excuse.

Yesterday, in spite of being ill, was a very pleasant day. It was a pleasant day in spite of one partner having to come home to work because construction noise in the office was so significant it was causing major stress. It was a pleasant day in spite of my traveling partner being very focused on preparing for the next trip away. It was pleasant in spite of the rain, and in spite of the headache. We made good choices, and treated each other well. Sure, I’d like not to be sick, but being sick did nothing to diminish the lovely day, yesterday.

Yesterday, maybe because I am ill, I also had a serious nightmare – terrifying enough to launch me from my bed, all my bed clothes in hand, body pillow clutched to me, cowering in the corner, against the back of the bedroom door when my nearest partner came to check on me, having heard the bang of my frightened self slam into the door, or the wall, whimpering. I don’t recall the dream now, only the sense of tremendous relief when my open eyes began to see, and I was safe in my room, my partner gently soothing my fear with tender touches, and soft words reminding me where I was in the moment, and that all was well.  As fatigued as I felt, it was hours before I could persuade myself to try sleep again, and strangely my bed just didn’t ‘feel right’ after that, until I woke this morning, quite comfortably and on time, a tad amused that I’d forgotten to set my alarm at all, and that it didn’t really matter.

There is a part of me that is curious what the nightmare was about. There is a wiser part of me who understands that doesn’t matter at all, and the kinder choice for my experience is to let it go.

What is 'enough'?

What is ‘enough’?

Today is a good day to listen well, really listen, without waiting to speak. Today is a good day to do my best, and understand with compassion that most people generally are doing their best, as well. Today is a good day to avoid making assumptions; assumptions are only stories we tell ourselves, and they have a lot of power to cause needless suffering. Today is a good day to ‘be impeccable’ with my words, using them well and with kindness, and understanding that clarity does not require callousness, or cruelty.

It seems a strange morning to write. My thoughts are incoherent and disorganized. Various ‘reasons’ I’m sure, though I don’t think it really requires an explanation, does it? I’m smiling and thinking how rarely an explanation changes an experience, however it may change my perspective.

I slept restlessly last night. I woke in a state of panic and dread at 1:42 am. I had no recollection of my dreams, and no awareness of any startling sounds or movement in my environment. I still occasionally have night terrors, and having crashed out around 10:30 pm, the timing is right. Knowledge offered no relief from the feelings, but it gave me leverage to use new skills to soothe myself, slow my heart rate, calm my breathing, settle my emotions, and eventually return to sleep. Meditation – the most powerful Rx I’ve ever been prescribed for a whole host of bullshit that challenges me.

The mysteries of the sleeping self are sometimes best left as mysteries.

After waking, dreams fade into the distance.

I woke abruptly, later, and still early (for a weekend day, when I could theoretically choose to ‘sleep in’). I woke shortly after 6:00 am, and feeling uneasy and vaguely pissed-off. I started the morning with more meditation, no agenda, no pressure, and from meditation I moved on to yoga; this gentle routine has become such a feature of my experience that I no longer plan it on my calendar, or set a reminder on my phone, or put a sticky note on my monitor. This slow unfolding of self in the morning is part of who I am now. It’s a nice change. By the time I got to the kitchen to pull a shot of espresso I felt calm, and content. It isn’t always that easy – honestly, the words make it sound ‘easier’ than it actually is. There is an implied commitment to practice, a commitment to self, a commitment to healing – and these require real effort, and a willingness to come back to the practice again and again, in the moment, and the will to face myself in the mirror of my minds-eye in a truly vulnerable and honest way, aware and still, inside myself. ‘Easy’ is not an accurate descriptor.

Practice. It's the practice that is the point; there is no 'mastery'.

Practice. It’s the practice that is the point; there is no ‘mastery’.

I still feel whatever is agitating me lurking in the background of my consciousness, an anxiety that comes and goes, as if it is preparing for some sneak attack, and checking regularly to see if I am still aware. (Personifying my issues isn’t something I take literally – or lightly – but I find that some of my issues are more easily faced when they have, well, faces. lol. 😉 ) I am hopeful that continued practice, presence in the moment, moving through my day mindfully and with great self-compassion will be enough to prevent some nasty attack on my equanimity by my demons. My analyst-brain urgently wants to pick at this sense of unease that returns now and then, to force it to give up its secrets, and tell me ‘why’, but it is a misleading temptation; giving in to it would likely result only in more pain and distress, because most likely there is no ‘why’ at all. Not in my here and now, at least, and perhaps not even in the remnants of last night’s dreams.

When I feel aware of the unease, this morning, I face it. I breathe. I feel myself relax. I move into the moment in a more present way. I take time for a few moments to be still, aware, to be compassionate and show myself kindness; I am human, these experiences of unease are uncomfortable, and result in more emotion on that blue end of the spectrum unless I slow down and take time to care for me. This morning, I have many small opportunities to practice emotional self-sufficiency. This morning life’s curriculum seems to be of the lab variety; hands on, and practicing. I’m okay with that; I expect willful change to require both choice and effort.

The map is not the world. Hell, the map isn't even the journey.

The map is not the world. Hell, the map isn’t even the journey.

Today is a good day to practice taking care of me. Today is a good day for compassion and for kindness. Today is a good day to build equanimity. Today is a good day to change the world.

Another day, I mean… I woke groggy and feeling anxious, already ‘weighed down’ from shit that isn’t even on my mind, yet.  I slept badly, waking several times during the night, fussing with blankets & sheets, changing position, getting warmer, cooling down, whatever it took. One moment of wakefulness found me standing rather unexpectedly at the patio door, forehead against the cool glass; I was surprised to realize the moment was ‘real’ and I was awake, when I finally noticed that fact. I returned to bed, and to sleep. Yep, post menopause and still dealing with hot flashes and night sweats. I knew I would be, it’s one of the many small lies we’re told, the one that ‘menopause’ actually truly ends the hormone thing. Nah. That goes on for years after. lol.

The weekend had some challenges. I stayed mostly focused on my own, mostly with decent results. We are each having our own experience. We live, every day, the consequences of our actions, and our choices. We are interdependent and interconnected. We’re all in this alone.  Somehow I suspect those are not contradictions in practice as they seem in words.

Today I am feeling worn down and tired, and the burden of residual unspoken hurt and anger over things left unaddressed for days, weeks, or a lifetime sit heavily on my heart today. I am living the consequences of my actions, and my choices. Free will is a grand ‘fuck you’ to us all, isn’t it? Even when we don’t make an active choice, our choice is made through our inaction; there is no escaping the outcome of our own will.  This morning, I look around and find myself thinking ‘um, okay… so I chose this, of all my choices… now what?’ I struggle with the free will thing, sometimes, not because I don’t buy into the notion – I do – but I never have quite figured out where the violation of my will really fits in with the whole ‘living the consequences of my actions & choices’ thing fits in.

My consciousness is not letting up on me this morning. My anger does not want to politely wait in line for an appropriate moment to exist; it exists waiting to be heard on moments long gone. I have not yet learned to treat myself gently or with compassion in the face of historical anger, old hurts, and ancient rage.

The weekend was not especially restful. I struggled with my emotional balance much of the time, without much support. Now it’s back to the office, back to work, back to someone else’s agenda for another few days, to earn a shot at trying again to take care of me next weekend. This morning I’m having trouble making a strong case for how worth it that may be. This is not a mood worth spending more than 500 words on, at least not so far. Time to throw it back and ask for a do-over.

Today is a good day for new perspective. Today is a good day for self-compassion. Today is a good day to change the world.

Today is a good day for new perspective. Today is a good day for self-compassion. Today is a good day to change the world.