Archives for category: art and the artist

It gets difficult to juggling all of the tasks, obligations, responsibilities, desires, goals, and ‘things in general’ with 40 hours (more) each week just lopped right off my productive lifetime. I’m feeling that fairly acutely right now, from the perspective of keeping that 40 hours and using it for myself; it’s a rare luxury, and I am doing what I can to take advantage of it from day-to-day.

Yesterday felt comfortable and natural, balanced between self-care, job search activities, and domesticity. Today is planned similarly. I am neither bored, nor hurried, which feels quite comfortable. “Comfortable” is a word that I find coming up a lot in the past couple of weeks, and I don’t mind over-using the word while I enjoy the experience.

The slower pace to life gives me an opportunity to more deeply consider the woman in the mirror, who she is today, where she is headed, what her choices and opportunities may be – and where they may take her. It’s a time for self-work, and for continued education. (I’m not passive about the time between jobs – this is my time, for me, and I hope to use it wisely.) Life – and the internet – provide plenty of opportunities to learn and to grow, like this exploration of emotion that I stumbled upon this morning. Taking care of me still requires attention to detail, commitment to action, and self-awareness – and I still need plenty of practice. At least for now, I really can put myself at the top of my list of priorities, and I do. Totally worth it. (There are still verbs involved.)

A quiet evening hanging out with my traveling partner became a good opportunity to improve on communication practices shared between us. I wake with my heart so filled with love for this one particular other human being that there is plenty to spill over as smiles available for every passing stranger – it feels like a very good day to be alive. That’s a pretty subjective experience, and as I recognize how tied to this gentle emotional climate it is, I also find myself aware that there are subtle choices involved, too; I could have responded (or reacted) differently to the evening, to my partner, to my circumstances… I could be living a very different life than I am choosing. Choosing when the choices feel easy and the outcomes feel pleasant isn’t difficult, or complicated, or messy, or at all challenging… Will I feel this good, or find life so simple, when the choices are more difficult, or the outcome – however desirable or needful – is less pleasant? Will I be able to reliably choose to take care of me, to enjoy my experience, and to live well (and beautifully) when things are hard, too? That’s a piece of the journey as yet unmapped, and quite likely just beyond some bend in the road up ahead at some point along the way. I smile when I hear myself (in my thoughts) hoping not to disappoint myself when the time comes; it has gotten much harder to disappoint myself these days. I am learning compassion, consideration, self-awareness, and love. (I still have so much to learn!)

Begin again.

Begin again.

Today is a good day for forward momentum, and for getting things done. Today is a good day to enjoy living, and to share a smile with a stranger. Today is a good day for compassion, for patience, and for perspective. Today is a good day for change. 🙂

Strange time of day to write… midday, heading to late afternoon… I have the dregs of my last cup of coffee cold, near at hand, and highly likely to end up yet another tepid uninteresting sip of brew-past-its-prime as I watch the birds at the feeder, just beyond my window. I mean to be writing… somehow, I am not. (Don’t let this handful of words fool you, I am ‘not there yet’ in some very obvious [to me] way.)

I fuss at small household tasks. I cross them off my list. I admit to ‘cherry-picking’ the tasks in no particular sequence, and I am not certain what drives my choices. I feel distracted, unsettled, and a tad… lost? Not in any complicated or painful way, it’s only that I went from a structured fairly steady routine to something different and as-yet-undeveloped to the leisurely delights of a real vacation – something that has been quite rare in my 3+ decades of fully adult life-time – and now here I sit, once again face-to-face with the ‘something quite different and as-yet-undeveloped’ not-so steady and lacking in routine experience ahead.

There's more to learn with a closer look, or a longer time watching.

There’s often something beyond the obvious.

I watch the birds come flutter to and from the bird feeder; I have, for now, considerably more time to watch them. 🙂 There’s something to be learned from what I observe in their comings and goings… about queuing theory? Decision-making? Cooperation? All of those things – something more, and that I have not yet puzzled out. I only sense it. It could be simply that on some much deeper level I am working through all the questions associated with that human puzzle that keeps us so busy for so long… “What do I want to be when I grow up?”

?

…Sometimes there’s nothing obvious to fall back on.

What a peculiarly unpredictable journey this thing we call life is… I hear a favorite Puscifer track in an entirely new way today… as a tender regretful anthem to the obsolescent band-aids over bits of chaos and damage, and the broken coping skills that no longer serve me well [at all]… a love song to the sad/not sad moment of recognition when I can easily see that one more piece of baggage can be set aside, unpacked, and let go, sung to the woman in the mirror. There’s more to say about it, I suppose, less ambiguously poetic, and more practical words might be useful… Another day. Do you mind? I need some time to think some things through. And seriously… I’m finding it strangely difficult to write today. 🙂

I am sipping a delicately fragrant cup of tea this morning, and lingering over the recollection of a lovely moment with my traveling partner last night. He put on a love song with a beautiful tender video for our shared enjoyment. It was a simple connected romantic moment, and very much worth remembering. This morning, with headphones on, I listen to it again…then play a favorite that makes me think of loving him. Suddenly, it is a morning filled with music – love songs, mostly, and uplifting songs of pure joy. “Love songs” to life and self – don’t those matter just as much? Sure – that’s part of the point; I matter. To me. No argument, defense, or justification required.

I find my way back to romantic love songs, of course, it’s that sort of morning. 🙂 I “miss” my traveling partner as fervently and with as much yearning as if he were away, instead of sleeping in another room. Sometimes love is funny that way. I let him sleep; I love him such that it matters more that he rest well than to risk waking him with a touch or a kiss. I’ll see him later today.

Love matters most.

Love matters most.

Today is a good day to be love.

Today I baked banana bread. It’s only just finished a few moments ago, and it sits cooling on the counter. It smells wonderful, and seems an excellent solution to excess bananas. Humorously, we had extra bananas on hand – meaning more than the two of us could eat before the rest go bad – because my injury works the way  it does. At least this was more funny than aggravating. I simply ordered too many, thinking the order was ‘4 bananas’ when it wasn’t ‘price each’, it was ‘price per bunch’. So… I’ve been enjoying a few more bananas than usual, and this morning I made banana bread. It smells wonderful. It smells like love.

Tasty tasty love

Tasty tasty love

Here’s the thing about the banana bread; my traveling partner hung out, helped some, and talked about this and that, and the bread got made, turned out well, and isn’t missing any ingredients. This is significant because I literally can’t hold a coherent conversation with someone while I cook – at least not during the measuring of ingredients, and the following of steps in a cookbook. It’s ‘a recipe for disaster’ if I do; I make a lot more mistakes if I am distracted, and don’t ‘multi-task’ easily. He noticed, showed consideration, and gave me cognitive ‘room to work’ when I needed it, re-engaging me during less critical tasks. It was fun and connected and light-hearted. It was a comfortably productive experience, and yeah… wow… skillful considerate loving partnership makes everything ‘taste’ better.

Love isn't fancy, or by nature expensive, and it does need our attention, and our consideration.

Love isn’t fancy, or by nature expensive, and it does need our attention, and our consideration.

I’ve got the afternoon at home alone, and I will spend it in the studio. There is a slow cooker full of chili from scratch cooking for later in the week. The smell of banana bread fills the place, reminding me I am loved.

What do you suppose is the ratio of positive to negative feedback you receive? How about the ratio of encouraging observations, versus critical observations? What about the number of compliments you receive, versus the number of insults or mean remarks? Or the ratio of kind and compassionate interactions versus the number of judgmental ones? Do you feel life’s stings and papercuts more often than love’s kisses? Is the result worthy of the enduring effort? Isn’t “love” an emotion produced by verbs (a whole lot of verbs!) (and chemistry) which results in more of all the good stuff, less of all the rotten bullshit human primates are capable of flinging at one another? So… what are you personally doing to improve the ratio in each and every relationship – or interaction?

Sometimes it’s hard not to just sort of stomp around feeling exceedingly criticized. There is an ever-loving fuck-ton of shit I do not do well, and I quickly find myself overloaded with a “self-improvement list” so long I end up wondering if my existence is holding back world progress. I’m also pretty good at some stuff; generally that seems much less relevant or noteworthy. (That observation gets a sentence now and then, the rest gets a fucking blog all its own.) I remind myself of two very important pieces of understanding that don’t change much, however ‘picked on by life’ I may be feeling:

  1. Criticism is basically just a very poorly worded request.
  2. Agreement #2 of the Four Agreements – Don’t Take Anything Personally

Generally, if I can hold those two understandings in mind when I am feeling particularly criticized and beginning to feel devalued or angry, I can more easily ask a very important question, “what is this person/situation really asking for (what is the unstated need), and how can I reply gently, while best meeting my needs over time?” Remember that bit about ‘an ever-loving fuck-ton of shit I do not do well’? Yep. Here we are; I need more practice. I’m struggling not to take things personally, today. I keep practicing.

To be fair, I woke from a troubled restless sleep this morning to immediate decision-making that went mildly awry. In the moments of disappointment that followed, the nightmare I’d had returned to my thoughts provoking painful emotions, a feeling of inadequacy and unworthiness, that seemed supported by the morning thus far. Not only that, I was in pain. I was in a lot of pain – still am – more so than usual. At this point, I’ve taken all the steps to manage it that I know, and I’m mildly sedated, which doesn’t really improve my experience in a wholesome way; it definitely slows my thinking and dulls my reactivity. I earnestly need to spend some time alone, and spend some time creatively. I’m struggling to figure that out – partly it’s the pain, but partly it is this peculiarly plaguing sense of feeling criticized, and the way that feeling sort of ‘weighs me down’ emotionally, and stifles me creatively. It was even hard to write this morning.

Today I am finding communication difficult. Simple answers to clear questions evade me. I struggle to make sense of the context of questions or observations, resulting in mystifying misunderstandings. Everything sounds too loud… I am tempted to wonder if that’s the pain, or the TBI, or… truth is, it doesn’t actually matter; what matters is learning to comfortably state the simple need in simple terms, gently, safely, as an honest request for support – and sometimes for change. Yeah, I’ll just go right ahead and add that to the very long list of ‘an ever-loving fuck-ton of shit I do not do well’ and I’ll get right on that, too, also, as soon as I can – that’s even sincerely meant. I literally do try my best to actually improve on each and every fucking minute detail of some weirdness or other that doesn’t fit my idea of comfortable emotionally safe socially productive interactions…every moment at risk of being so vigilant of my ‘failings’ that I end up feeling chronically self-conscious and anxious. It’s a delicate balance, and honestly – I mean to treat myself much better than I often do. I am only easily able to treat people dear to me as well as I treat myself… so… it matters greatly to ‘get all this right’. Yeah – that’s a ludicrously high standard to hold oneself, and it is a set up for failure, internal criticism backed up by acceptance of external criticism – real or imagined – with the painful outcome of anxiety, conflict, emotional self-harm, relationship sabotage… blech. Drama and bullshit.

I can do better. I do some days. Today is not a great day for me on a couple of levels. The pain and my sound sensitivity are physically difficult, and drive the emotional volatility and loss of balance. I can’t imagine ‘my happy place’ – and I’m standing in it.

Here’s the thing about improving my emotional ‘golden ratio’ though; it’s not actually about what I hear from other people, or how they see me, or the feedback they give me. It’s very much about whether or not I ‘drink the poison’. It’s about my own choices, and about how I feel about the woman in the mirror. If I am being that hard on me, it’s even more difficult to take care of me when someone else is hard on me, too, or I have to deal with a shitty day, or a lot of pain. There really are some great practices to fall back on. Meditation. Yep. Still works. It does work best to actually do it. Most practices work that way. Getting enough rest is a great practice – and I didn’t. So. Yeah. Mindfulness… ooh, I like that one so much (it’s so hard though…); it helps me stay aware of myself in this moment, and helps me be more compassionate with myself. I really am in that much pain – it makes sense to show myself some kindness. On and on I go. One practice, and then another. One moment to consider some observation that serves me well, or another: perspective, mindfulness, sufficiency, adequacy, worthiness, compassion… I keep at it.

I do hurt… and I’m okay right now.