Archives for category: Anxiety
Did you see that house?? Wow – check out that car! Designer clothes…limited edition printings…specialized or customized decor…exotic rare flavors, places, experiences… What do you aspire to? More? Much more? Go big or go home! Dream big! Shoot for the moon! More…further…better…
A wow moment on an ordinary day.

A wow moment on an ordinary day.

No wonder I feel so pushed sometimes. It’s a very big world, and there are so many opportunities, so many wonders, and challenges, so many things to try or experience – I guess I’m not surprised that so many folks chase some dragon or another, looking to fulfill themselves, or achieve one goal or outdo some standard or expectation, hit a noteworthy benchmark, impress someone, or climb some mountain, ladder, or heap.
Soap bubbles are also 'real'.

Soap bubbles are also ‘real’.

I know a man with a spectacular home. He bought it for his own reasons, perhaps because his last home wasn’t ‘enough’. He shopped a long while before he found what he was looking for. I still don’t really understand his choice. He bought a mammoth home, worthy of being called ‘an estate’, well off the everyday beaten path, and far out of view of any sight of ‘economic distress’ in a place of exquisitely preserved nominally natural loveliness… it’s huge. Quite large. Well and good, of course, for his substantial family… wait… no, he lives alone, generally. He has just one child (living far away), and no likelihood of grandchildren, not even a dog by his side. Many rooms, much square footage, and more than much else, it boldly states ‘here lives a man who is economically successful’. It’s very fancy. His own tastes, as a man, seem quite simple. He has worked hard and as much as his understanding of the world permits, he is an ethical and good man. He seems mild of temperament, professionally competent, and decent. He tends to be modest and self-effacing when confronted directly, or in conversation, by ‘someone better’ than he sees himself; it is clear that the superiority in question is a matter of financial success. He treats a man with more money as likely to be simply smarter, wiser, more right more often, in a word – better.  If success is measured in dollars, square footage, rarity, or exclusivity, then perhaps a very grand house is an excellent value in communicating that success to the world.
This says something about who we are.

This says something about who we are.

What does that house mean? Oh – not to him, because how that house meets his needs, or what value it has for him, isn’t really relevant to me at all. Not my house. Not my family. Not my measure of success. It’s just an anecdote about a guy with a house.
The basics, walls, windows, a roof, a door.

The basics, walls, windows, a roof, a door.

When I was much younger, in my 20s, I loved shoes, and clothes, and traveling to destinations; most of my disposable income went to those opportunities. I aspired to all sorts of ‘greatness’ and hit the mark once in a while, and struggling and suffering when I didn’t. I pushed myself hard and continuously to ‘succeed’. I defined success based on a number of things that were economic in nature, and certainly each of us is free to define success in our own way… only… I wasn’t doing that, at all. I was defining success as I had been told to define it, based on someone else’s measure of success. (I think we all start there.) Many of us find our own way to re-defining success in our own terms. (I did, eventually.) The discovery that ‘clothes don’t matter’ was an important game-changer for me. I came home from war substantially changed of mind and heart, and on the scale of clothes and shoes it was obvious.  It took a while longer and a house to teach me why ‘clothes don’t matter’, and the nature of sufficiency. I’m still learning.
"Kuwait; Oil Fires" 26" x 48" oil on silk.

“Kuwait; Oil Fires” 26″ x 48″ oil on silk.

Funny thing, though… that house… You see, having a home, a place of my own, somewhere I could always come back to, however far I strayed, somewhere to count on… that has been a measure of success for me, for a very long time.  I get excited about fancy big homes with ‘tons of features’, so much so that I recently allowed myself to be entirely de-railed from a thoughtful, reasoned, careful house-hunting process by the dangled temptation of something bigger, better, fancier… more. More than I need, for sure. I noticed when it happened, but the pure addictive delight of the daydream in front of me was intoxicating, and fully distracting from something far far more important to me – ‘enough’. An important lesson in attending closely to my own needs, my own goals.
It's a trap!

It’s a trap!

Sufficiency. Contentment.

Sure, I suppose a million-dollar home in an exclusive gated community of like-minded individuals surrounded by landscaped scenery, safe behind efficient alarm systems, and deeply invested in society by way of a hefty mortgage would be one way to shout “I am a success!” to the world. Having a big house with plenty of room, and rooms, and features, and space, and customized to suit my taste for color and design would be very aesthetically pleasing, and potentially very comfortable and satisfying. It might satisfy some wants, fulfill some desires, even meet some needs. It would answer a very different question than “What is enough?”

For me, a grand house could not be described as ‘necessary’. It would not be about ‘meeting my needs’, and however often words about needs might be spoken by someone with the money to buy such a grand house, a house like that is not likely to be about needs. A house like that is about wants, and wanting, about craving, acquisition, and fighting discontent with possessions, and communicating status to the world. What need does one human being have for a house of many rooms, many bathrooms, many many square feet, broad expanses of lawn, yard, or acreage, neatly landscaped, arranged, and managed in accordance with the community covenants and homeowner’s association guidelines? I firmly assert again, it is not about needs, or meeting needs, at all.

I know what I need. I need enough. Sufficiency. Safe, secure, sheltered from inclement weather, adequate protection from the unknown intentions of those who might wish me ill, a place where I feel nurtured, at ease, content, and ‘at home’. I need a home, far more than I need a house. I’ve lived in reasonable comfort for months in a tent, in good company, well-provisioned, and feeling both safe and secure. I’m pretty sure ‘my real-estate’ in that circumstance measured something like 20 sq ft. The more-than-dozen of us sharing that tent had about 500 sq ft together. It seemed, at the time, rather generous. Most of the time it felt like ‘enough’. Clearly ‘enough’ isn’t about square footage, stone walls, expanses of lawn, HOA by-laws, elegant roof-lines, granite counters, upgrade appliances, or gated communities. What is ‘enough’? What is ‘home’?

One of the flavors of 'home'.

One of the flavors of ‘home’.

Home. Yeah. Home is high on my list of priorities. Getting there is just starting to peek over the horizon on my vast to-do list of personal growth, and desirable achievements…and I don’t even know yet everything I ‘need’ to measure my success there… other than ‘enough’.  Excess is a burden. Delighting in excess is a fast track to being a shitty human being. lol.
What's your pleasure?

What’s your pleasure?

I probably wouldn’t be a really first-rate minimalist. I’ll be honest about that. I like some luxuries, and my aesthetic preferences result in the possession of the occasional object or two without purpose beyond beauty, but there, too; I call the shots on my idea of success, and only I truly know what meets my needs, and what those needs are, and why. I recognize the possibility that some solitary person with vast wealth might truly ‘need’ a huge grand house of many rooms filled to the rafters with carefully placed exquisite objects that reflect their taste and experiences, reminders of other things and moments, and perhaps such vast wealth truly results in a life so well-lived that the accumulated possessions truly fill such a grand house in a predictable and commonplace way. It’s possible. I have books, paintings, paperweights… having space to display them might seem a necessity from some perspectives, and certainly practical objects like books lose value when they are boxed up, labeled, and put into storage. I would be less satisfied to be without books, and the wee library space I have put together in my current house satisfied my heart when I finished that project. If I had more books, I’d ‘need’ more space. It’s not quite the sort of ‘need’ I’m really on about, though… and the small library I have is just bookshelves along a wall in a mostly unused corner. It meets my needs. It is enough.

I’m spending some time reconsidering my discontent in all manner of things, and the questions I am asking myself are ‘What do I really need?’ and ‘What is enough?’ I have never found contentment – or happiness – in ‘more’, ‘bigger’, ‘better’, or ‘further’. I have found it in sufficiency, in appreciation, in gratitude. I may want ‘more’, I only need ‘enough’.

It’s been an interesting few days since my homecoming. Having returned home feeling focused, committed to specific goals, clear-headed and purposeful, serene and balanced, I was unsurprised to walk into an emotional hurricane at home; we are all having our own experience. We’re human, we have emotions, and life serves up hearty helpings of what drives them. They are no more unexpected than a hurricane, and nearly always visible on the horizon.  I’ve been in real hurricanes. Generally, savvy folks don’t stand around stunned letting everything around them go to hell, and they don’t seem unaware that there is gale force wind blowing them off course, or torrential rain on their parade.

So, I face the hurricane myself, moved by the experiences of others, aware of the destructive potential of the chaos, and not discouraged from my own goals or from seeing to my own needs. I am experienced with the weather we were having. lol.  I would find value in some sort of vast check list of experiences and circumstances that were once entirely outside my ability to endure, withstand, negotiate, enjoy, manage, cherish… and as each such occurs anew and I face it, experience it, with new tools, I could check it off the list. I like checking things off lists, actually. It gives me a sense of progress.

I’d still love to be able to share more about my beach experience and certain other bits and pieces; there is a lot of amazing stuff going on in my life as an individual, and I’m often frustrated that I lack the skills to really share them with my loves.  If I gave myself a chance at it, I could wallow in disappointment and discontent when I find that some wonderful bit of wonder ends up disregarded in favor of OPD.   Still, everyday life manages to keep my brain busy, my heart alive, and my calendar full.  Even what hurts or feels uncomfortable or seems inexplicable, is stuff to study, and to which I can bring mindfulness, and new practices very much worth practicing.  I am a student of life, not just visiting or passing through.

One view of the horizon.

One view of the horizon.

One very small thing I considered over the weekend at the beach was my health and fitness. What now seems a very long time ago I was much heavier than I wanted to be, and heavier than what feels comfortable on my frame. My weight was contributing to health problems, and even I could see that. It was also a significant driver of personal discontent and feelings of unworthiness.  I took matters in hand – and it’s an entirely other story than what I’m really on about this morning – and I dropped a lot of weight in a year.  It has stayed off. I’m much fitter, and healthier – but I haven’t reached my goal, and I’m still heavier than would be ideally healthy, and my fitness could still use improvement. I could moan about my weight loss progress being stalled for two years and launch a barrage of small contributing factors, but seriously? I wasn’t as committed as I needed to be to reach the goal I had set for myself.  I am accepted and loved by those who accept and love me, and mostly not very aware of haters moment-to-moment, and it was pretty easy to slow it down, relax, and lose focus. It doesn’t require more analysis than that. 🙂

I needed time to reflect.

I needed time to reflect.

So, I recommitted to my goal, with some study, and some celebration and waving good-bye to unhealthy favorite treats that had crept in over time to become pretty frequent. I took note that even a small glass of white wine with a meal didn’t treat me well emotionally or physically, and decided feeling good and being healthy is more important than wine with a meal – ever – and gave that up. I wasn’t exactly ‘a drinker’ at this point in my life, but I decided to give it up completely – although I’m not bragging or being smug about it, it’s just that it wasn’t hard to choose to give up empty calories (wine, gummy candies, sweets made primarily of butter, sugar, and flour) to keep my health.  It is, however, a choice. There’s a verb in there. Actions are involved and I am already taking them; strict about my caloric intake, the nutritive qualities of the food I eat, the amount and type of exercise I get each day.  I probably won’t say much about it day-to-day; this blog isn’t a diet, weight-loss, or fitness blog. For me the more important item is the goal>choice>action>outcome piece. There are always details, ups and downs, challenges to face, but generally it really is as simple has being sufficiently committed to a goal to enact the required verbs to reach it.  I’m wondering what will be different bringing mindfulness into the mix. Am I full of shit? I’ll check in, in September, and let you know. 😉

Planning to stay on course.

Planning to stay on course.

Other small things, well – small for the world, they loom large in my experience. Spring continues to unfold.  It’s lovely to see, and I enjoy the scents of spring without the agony of allergies; I make a point to be specifically mindfully grateful about it. Love, too, unfolds and grows and shows new facets of intimacy, connection, and delight. I still feel a moment of awkward discomfort when I’m aware of how dependent that has turned out to be on connecting with myself, treating my own heart well, and being intimate with my own emotional experience. The discomfort always passes, and the joy and contentment and deep meaningful connections that are within reach are certainly worth learning to accept how utterly necessary it is to nurture myself and treat myself well and with loving kindness.

Where the river meets the sea.

Where the river meets the sea.

I thought I had more to say. Since it isn’t about a word count… well, enjoy Thursday! It’s a good day to love and be loved. It’s a good day to be considerate and to be kind. It’s a good day to change the world.

So much horizon...

So much horizon…

I have a beautiful spring weekend on the coast planned, to be spent in a ‘spa cottage’ a block from the beach, in a community more village than town, small, intimate, friendly. Time planned for stillness, for tenderness, for meditation, yoga, and long conversations with a new love. It sounds wonderfully romantic.

Oh, to be sure, this love of mine has been part of my life for years, a timeless measure of time that feels like ‘always’. ‘New love’ hardly describes the chronology of our life together… but somehow, I have been remiss where love is concerned. Blind? To be sure; blind to her needs, her heart, even her beauty. Deaf to her words, her poetry, and that creative spark that makes her so much of who she is. I’ve been so hard on her, for so long. So often forcing to her scream what could have been whispered. I’m very fortunate that she stuck it out long enough to see me turn toward her loveliness with real affection in my eyes. I’m very sorry she had to wait so long.  

She will probably always seem about 22 to me; frozen in memory at that pinnacle of youthful beauty we each achieve, so often unnoticed until it has passed by. I have a photograph of her, then, dark-haired, fair, eyes-closed, thoughtful, mouth relaxed, she is calm and quiet; she is in a bubble bath, photographed on the sly, unaware of the subtle intrusion on her precious privacy.

22

22

I know so much about her, and until I realized how much love there is between us, I didn’t realize how little that knowledge meant for understanding her. Still, I know things. I know she thinks she’s fat. She struggles to ‘feel heard’ but doesn’t have words for her frustration, and too many for everything else. She rarely sheds tears, and when she succumbs to ‘crying’ it is often wordless, soundless, stuck like a scream frozen on a paused movie, that becomes garbled vocalizations of fury or terror through the force of her will. She yields to her animal nature as if forced, as though there might be something to prove, and perhaps in the proof she might find something like a soul; being too near her heat, her passion, her childish rage is hard to bear. I berate her for her impulsiveness and resent her lack of control. So often I have wanted to comfort her – or beat the hell out of her; unable to choose, I would choose instead to silence her, or leave her in pieces, alone. I did not want to believe she needed to be cared for; so often tenderness seemed the only thing that could move her to tears, at all. I know she doesn’t like to be touched by strangers, and doesn’t distinguish between sex and love; she says “love is a fraud, but sex is something I can feel’.  I know how she really feels when she says it. I know about her pain. I know she has a lifetime ahead of her, and finding her way will likely take all of it.

I know she doesn’t know how much she will survive, or how much she will change, in the years ahead of her in that photo.

Complicated, broken, she means the world to me now, and I wonder what I could do to ‘make it all up to her’ somehow. A quiet spring weekend at the coast, the luxury of being utterly heard, cared for, attended to – it’s just a down payment on a very large debt. She’s stuck it out with me, you see. It wasn’t ever certain that she would.

This weekend I’ll take the trip to the coast, for some solo time, getting to know this woman I love, hearing her stories anew, with compassion, and patience – I know she needs that from me. We’ve come a long way together, this me-of-22, and I. It’s been ugly, and more than once seemed at the edge of what could be suffered. It’s time we got together over a coffee or two, and really shared now together; there are things she never knew, that I’d like to share with her – like my love.

…Do you wonder?

This morning I’m musing about ‘certainty’ and ‘being right’ and ‘knowing’. I can remember a time when the lynch-pin holding my understanding of the world together was a sense of certainty, a willingness to ascribe immutability to some characteristic or another, or render some past event ‘precise’ or ‘exact’ with a level of reliability that I no longer think I can accept as a given. I needed, then, to be utterly able to ‘defend my point’ and sway others to ‘my side’. It gave me a powerful boost to ‘win’ arguments. I’m not so sure of things now.  I’m wrong too much. lol I let go of ‘being right. Doing so is a comfortable fit for where I am in life, and since I feel pretty good most of the time, and pretty calm, I’m willing to have it be what it seems now, and let it go there. Uncertainty is okay with me. Relativity seems alright, too. Perspective has a tendency to clear things up in time, with consideration, and a sense of wonder, and doesn’t piss as many people off, or distance them.

I don’t need to be ‘right’.

Interestingly, that ‘need’ to ‘be right’ has been a big driver of lifelong discontent, dissatisfaction, resentment, anger, hostility, and frustration, as well as a whole host of associated unpleasant behavior that wasn’t any less unpleasant, or any more tolerable or acceptable, because I didn’t actually understand how unacceptable or unpleasant those behaviors were. What we understand, as individuals, doesn’t change the world around us, doesn’t change ‘the facts’ of reality itself. What we understand colors our own experience, changes what we recognize our choices to be, gives us context in which to define our behavior, words with which to describe our experience, but does not change the reality of it. What we understand changes what we think about who we are, but it doesn’t change the experience others have with us.  The whole notion of ‘being right’ is a sort of ‘us vs. them’ scenario we play out in our heads, generally to regain control or enforce boundaries, set limits, or force another person to conform to our understanding of things, for our own security or personal gain.

I gave up on being right awhile ago. It’s not that I’m ‘always wrong’, or that errors in thinking or decision-making plague me more than others. My perspective on this is more that being right is entirely irrelevant to contentment, joy, love… beautiful experiences to have or to share. An urgent need to ‘be right’ can throw a bucket of icy water on a lot of loving and warm circumstances. I’ve found that where ‘right’ is relevant at all, whether someone else recognizes that I am ‘right’ is utterly irrelevant to my own experience, or ‘the true truth’ or the facts or reality of …whatever. Seriously. I was able to entirely give up on feeding a need to be right – because it frankly doesn’t actually matter even a little bit. I laughed with delight and wide-eyed wonder when I realized it.

Illumination

Illumination

These days, the only time I press even a bit if I sense I am ‘right’ about something and in disagreement with someone else is when I see legitimate potential for bodily harm, or an obvious safety hazard. The rest of the time? Yeah – if you’re sure you’re right, go ahead and enjoy that. I’ve no need to argue the point, and your perspective differing from mine has no effect on me whatsoever. Arguing never made me feel happy, or gave me any pleasure, although it sometimes provided me a connection to another person that was based on emotional content; how sad when we seek and find our emotional connections through confrontation, instead of intimacy.

A trick of the light...

A trick of the light…

It gets sticky here, though… because letting go of being right is something I think I am right about! What a delightful joke on me. But, just as a trick of the light doesn’t actually alter the thing I see, even this bit of paradox doesn’t actually alter my experience; being right has let me down many times. Discovering that it doesn’t actually matter to me whether I am right or not, and that ‘being right’ is one of the least valuable or relevant details of any experience, has been eye-opening, and allowed me to learn/grow more and faster. I guess it makes some basic sense – what we ‘know’ impedes learning what we don’t know, because learning something requires that we accept that we lack knowledge.

Today is a good day to be a student. Today is a good day to change the world.

Spring is definitely here. Flowers are unfolding.

Sunlight and flowers.

Sunlight and flowers.

 

Sunny days seem somehow more luminous.

Blue skies

Blue skies

 

Afternoons are reliably warmer. I’ve been enjoying it, and regretting that two of my favorite things about Spring can’t be photographed and shared: the scents, and birdsong. I delight in the fragrances of Spring. I’m fortunate that I don’t have those allergies; I can enjoy the scents of Spring without reservation, and generally without any unpleasant consequences. Each recent day has been enhanced, punctuated, and highlighted by new fragrances as different sorts of flowers begin to bloom. It’s wonderful.

Life isn’t all blue skies and flowers, of course, but I feel better equipped to deal with the occasional stress or weirdness. Practicing mindfulness makes a huge difference to both handling the stress, and enjoying the scent of flowers and sounds of birdsong. It continues to be ‘practicing’, too; there is no ‘mastery’ here. I am always beginning, always learning.

Yesterday was well-spent and interesting. I went into it resolved to be in the moment through my challenges, to refrain from taking things personally based on assumptions or baggage, and letting Spring – and life – unfold from the vantage point of student, and of observer. Yesterday, I met with a former partner. The break-up was a messy one, and although it was years ago, I certainly have my own baggage around those events, and experience suggested that I could count on my ex to have a recollection of those events as unique and personal as my own. I wasn’t looking for a confrontation; my ex had reached out to me – quite unexpectedly – to let me know some watercolors and photographs of mine, old ones, had been found – did I want them? The contact was simple. Honest. Cautious. Brief. We arranged to meet. I arrived, my ex met me. We exchanged greetings, a few polite words, a hug. I accepted the offered bag of photos and small paintings and went on my way. No drama. No unpleasantness. Not quite strangers, not adversaries – just people. I contemplated that on the train home. I considered, too, all the ways it could have gone. My fears about it. The stories in my head beforehand, built from other experiences, were varied and bore no resemblance to the event as it happened. We create our experience as we go along. I’m glad I stayed open to possibilities I could not – or simply did not – imagine. I’ve been carrying a lot of baggage, hurt feelings, pain, anger… yesterday I set a lot of it down.

We've all got baggage.

We’ve all got baggage.

The photographs that were returned to me are precious. Photos of me at 22, 23. Some of my own early photography. Some holiday photos in the apartment I lived in as a young soldier in Germany so many years ago. I looked at them closely, considering the moment each represented. I was so young. So lovely. I didn’t feel beautiful at that age. I felt fat. I felt huge. My husband-at-the-time regularly pointed out that I was ‘obese’ and really needed to ‘take off a bunch of weight’. I was 5’6″, a size 4 or 6, and weighed about 115 lbs. The big round curvy ass that he derisively commented on so frequently wasn’t going to disappear from dieting; it’s how I’m shaped, and that was enough to ‘prove’ to me I was fat to the point of grossness at that vulnerable and insecure point in my life. I looked at the pictures with some sadness, wanting very much to reach back in time and tell that younger me how incredibly beautiful she was, and teach her to understand that she could live her own story, and did not need her husband’s fictions to be the woman she most wanted to be. I wondered if anyone had tried to tell me… some of the pictures are of a holiday shared with friends. I contemplated how empty that holiday was, how disconnected, each person living some fiction intended to project something better than the moment, something more wonderful, more powerful, more appropriate, or safer… ‘appearances’. Sitting here this morning in my now, a hot coffee at hand, content and calm, I am finding it hard to imagine anything sadder than depriving ourselves of who we are by ‘keeping up appearances’. Living a fiction was not satisfying for me. It was lonely. Frightening. Isolating.

One of the photographs is a lovely shot of that young me, immersed in a bubble-bath, looking serene, eyes-closed, mouth relaxed. Appearances are insidious. I remember the day. The young woman in that photograph is black and blue beneath the bubbles, just beyond view. Serene? No, hurting, but calm – having survived again.  Those were good moments for the me that I was then, those moments when I could pause and be grateful that I lived. My few friends had no idea; I was very skilled at appearances. 

Some of the paintings I got back are small works, whimsically decorated envelopes, actually, that had contained letters to my lover, away at college. I considered the experience of cherishing a distant love, the experience of writing the letters, painting the envelopes; I was as much in love at that time as I was capable of being. I did not know much about love. I did not understand that being unable to love me, I would be mostly pretty unskilled at loving anyone else. From the future I look back and wonder – was that love? Wasn’t it? Is it fair to say now that it wasn’t, then, when it was the limit of what I was capable of, as far as ‘love’ goes?

We don’t just create the fictions that ‘keep up appearances’, we edit our history to meet our needs in the now, too. We make things a bit more to our liking in the telling, or represent ourselves as being a bit more this than that, because we value those qualities, or feel compelled to tidy up loose ends with a few good words.  Fictions.  Often not even willful deliberate fictions, just erosion of memory over time, or perhaps unnoticed adjustments to cope with trauma. Am I even able to be truly here, now, and hold on to whatever that is into my future recollections of this moment, once it has passed? Each having our own experience, and so much  of it created out of our assumptions, our interpretation, our world view, our expectations, our biases, the limitations of our knowledge, or our senses… Can I ever really know a truth that is unquestionably true?

This morning I glimpsed an understanding of something important for me; mindfulness, and an observing presence in the moment, is as close as I have ever been to ‘the true truth’. The scents of Spring. The sounds of birdsong. The unfolding of flowers. The moments when I am, and nothing more, are the ‘real me’. Quiet meditation. Being. Becoming. Without words.

I look again at that photograph, seeing the strength, the calm, the still moment. She is beautiful, no fiction required.