Archives for category: autumn
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Sometimes Laughter…

October 20, 2016 //
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…Sometimes tears. Sometimes life is a party… sometimes it’s a sadder song. Today I practice because practicing is what it takes, sometimes more than others.

Sad songs ring truer tonight, and not for any obvious reason worthy of such moody bullshit. I sigh aloud in the quiet of my studio. No music playing; I have been yearning for quiet, and recognizing that the stillness I seek has to come from within, I continue to yearn, restless and weary, distracted and discontent. It’s a place. A state of being. One version of now, now and then. In every practical way I am okay right now, even mired in this feeling, stranded just on the edge of tears that have not yet begun to fall.

...What? All I said was "cry me a river"!

…What? All I said was “cry me a river”!

It’s a nothing much type of emotional trap; I feel terribly lonely, but having been thrown back into a lifestyle in which I spend 50+ hours a week surrounded by and interacting with multitudes of other human beings very much live and real-time, I am also feeling desperate to be entirely alone for at least a little while. I miss my traveling partner in a wholly discontented and irritable way, but find myself wondering with what’s left of a meager supply of wry amusement whether I would even be able to enjoy him if he were here right now. I’m irked with the whole mess, and feeling frustrated with myself, with circumstances, with life rather generally – which is entirely so much complete bullshit; I have what I need in life, and a good measure more. I’ve got very little to bitch about, frankly. Small shit… like emotional splinters; I can feel the irritation, the pain, the annoyance – but I can’t quite get a hold of the real issue to put it to rest. Rest. Maybe that’s the thing. I haven’t been sleeping well…

It's always a good time to begin again.

It’s always a good time to begin again.

Fuck the bitching. I’m constantly on about choices and practices and incremental change over time. Some tiny bitter corner within mutters “don’t hold your breath…” I’m in no mood for back chat from the woman in the mirror, tonight. I put on some music, apropos and gentle, and start down my list of crisis management practices – before I find myself in crisis.

[passage of time… no handy metaphor comes to mind]

It’s much later. Healthy calories, a tall drink of water, a luxurious shower with a favorite fragrance, warm dry clothes on a cold damp day, some yoga, meditation, a few minutes gathering my thoughts without any other agenda besides me, now, here. Stillness. A lack of distraction. A setting-aside of burdens – however small, however large, however urgent-seeming. Life moves so much faster now that I am back in the workforce. There is a lot about that which doesn’t suit me at all. It is, as they say, what it is. Making time for me is non-negotiable – when I don’t do it, I will pay a price.

I take some time to (be aware of and) respect my own feelings – that’s harder that it seems it could be, sometimes – tonight, for example. I’m frustrated by how easily “other people” (any other people) can change my experience “on a whim” – lack of planning, tantrums, coercive emotional bullshit, changes of plans… Circumstances or will; it doesn’t matter whether the intention is deliberate or even anything to do with me at all, sometimes the outcome affects me without regard to anyone’s specific will or intention. (…And now you know why “consideration” is one of my Big 5 relationship values; because without consideration the damage we do to those around us is frequent, unmanaged, unmitigated, unnoticed, and likely far more significant than we know.)

Closing in on my core needs with real awareness isn’t a comfortable process; some of what I need presents logistical challenges, emotional challenges, and definitely a big scary unsteady pile of verbs. I took time to give further thought to the cornerstones of this life I build for me: mindfulness, perspective, and sufficiency. I’m not sure I’m any closer. It’ll be a lifelong journey. Feeling the feeling of disappointed frustration, tears well up, my chest gets tight, and I feel stiff, as if resisting my feelings – or myself. I breathe deeply. Relax. Several more times. I pace around the apartment a bit, warm coffee mug in my hands. Thinking. Thoughts. The restlessness grows, the mindfulness pales. Shit. Begin again, I think.

Well, sure. This.

Well, sure. This.

Tonight is hard. Some nights are. My accounting of the facts of the day and evening indicate there is nothing really wrong, at all. I am okay right now. Life is pretty good right now. I’m not even in much pain right now. Last night I got the rest I needed. What is there to bitch about? “I feel trapped and pushed around” a tired voice in my thoughts calls back softly, and the tears come. Real or not, valid or not, support by facts or not… feelings. I am alone and safe here, and it is okay to admit that I feel. Sometimes the feelings are not the pleasant lovely ones. This too will pass. Pretty much everything pretty much nearly always does. 🙂

Eventually my tears stop falling. I sigh, and take note of my breathing. I nudge myself back onto healthy practices, and good self-care. I have more awareness of self, and a sense of the “real issues”; my autonomy and sense of emotional safety is feeling threatened by OPD (Other People’s Drama) in relationships that are not my own, and also a little overwhelmed by the amount of time I am having to spend “on my best behavior”, surrounded by people who are relative strangers in the work environment, and on top of that working purposefully to get back on track with a major life goal – a place of my own. (Really my own. Mine. As in – a homeowner. I want the safety and security of having my own place, no landlord, no tenant restrictions, no limitations on design, form, and function – artistically, aesthetically, and practically, actually my own home. A place to retire. To live. To thrive on my own terms.) It’s a lot to juggle to “be there” for people who are dear to me, also take care of myself, also go to work every day and do the things… So much going on. It’s daunting, and I guess I’m not surprised that I’ve hit a wall. I’m very human.

Today is a good day to slow down, listen deeply to my own voice, and take care of me. Today is a good day to love – and make sure some of that love is for the woman in the mirror. Today is a good day to be purposeful about the future, without letting it pull me away from this moment, now. There are verbs involved – and clearly, my results vary. 🙂 Tomorrow will be a good day to begin again.

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Categories Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, Free Will, grief, Healthy Living, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, The Art of Being, The Big 5, Words

Nothing to Say Here

October 18, 2016 //
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It’s a quiet morning. I’ve had very little sleep. I went to bed in pain, which is not uncommon in the cooler, wetter, autumn months. I didn’t fall asleep until much later, although I wasn’t restless – just sleepless. Sometime after 11 pm, I finally slept. I woke at 2 am, in pain. More pain? Different pain. Chest pain. I spent some time fussing and dithering over it, tossing and turning, trying to find a comfortable position, and finally giving up on all that, taking a chewable aspirin, and spending what remained of the night meditating.

Hours later, it’s morning, and time to begin a new day. The dull ache I still feel might be my “chest” – or might be my arthritic back being felt differently, because of the peculiar position I’d finally fallen asleep in, sort of curled in on myself. Awkward. The uncertainty causes some stress, but I’ve been here before; the last time I “took it seriously” and made haste to the ER it was nothing. Clearly it’s not “nothing”; I am in pain, and uncomfortable. I feel quite normal, “besides the pain”… only… even that has a certain normalcy in my day-to-day experience. Generally, I can count on most of life’s discomfort to be less than urgent, and so this morning I treat myself gently, watchfully, aware that I am hurting, and mindful that this could warrant further attention. I’m about due for a physical, anyway. I set a reminder to make an appointment.

I sip my coffee contentedly. The yoga this morning helped with the pain. Now I feel that I was probably just “twisted up in knots” more than anything else. I’ll regret the lack of sleep as the day wears on, possibly, but even that is commonplace. I think about a friend going through some changes. She is struggling, and it sometimes feels that I can’t really communicate across the gap in years… How do I share what I’ve learned? How do I say “this too shall pass” in words she will be willing to hear? How do I communicate that so much of the struggling is a choice? We are each having our own experience…and living from such differing perspectives. I make a commitment to hang out, to listen, to be “be here”; we all want to be heard.

My traveling partner sleeps in the other room. I smile, thinking fondly of his presence, his love, our shared journey. Pleasant thoughts to start the day on. Even that is a choice that changes my experience over time. In a life filled with turmoil and chaos, it can be a profound act of rebellion to choose calm, to craft stillness, to cultivate compassion, and even simply to enjoy one quiet moment without guilt, reservations, or rushing it through. It does take practice. 🙂

We become what we practice.

Today is a good day to be the person I most want to be. It takes practice. 🙂

imag8161

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Categories autumn, health, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Sleepless Nights, The Art of Being

Slowing Things Down

October 17, 2016 //
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I slept wonderfully well over the weekend, but my sleep last night was more typical of what I’ve generally be experiencing lately; interrupted, and less than ideal quality. I don’t beat myself up about it these days (that just adds anxiety and stress to already limited sleep).

Last night when I woke, I struggled to return to sleep because my heart was racing and I felt startled and breathless. I tossed and turned a bit, worked on managing my breathing and patiently waiting it out while my heart-rate slowed to a more normal beat. I don’t know what woke me. I didn’t recall any nightmares, but the physical experience was as if I’d woken from one.  If I’d been more awake when I woke, I’d have understood the wiser choice might be to simply get up for a few minutes of meditation, and to experience and savor the quiet in the wee hours, which I find very soothing. I didn’t do that. Eventually I still returned to sleep.

A basic morning.

A basic morning.

I woke again, earlier than the alarm, by quite a bit (an hour) but woke feeling fully awake; sleep at that point is a futile endeavor. I got up, did some yoga, had a shower, meditated, made coffee, all the things I associate with morning. I think ahead to a dinner date with my traveling partner, and shared friends; there won’t be time after work for housekeeping. I look around at a handful of chores I’d like to take care of before I leave for work. It feels comfortably satisfying to recognize both the need, and the opportunity, and to have a plan.

From a practical perspective, this is an ordinary enough Monday without anything remarkable ahead of me on the calendar. The holiday seasons creeps closer, but it’s on the other side of Halloween, which is still two weeks away. “Nothing to see here.” I close my calendar, my email, Facebook… the morning is mine to enjoy as I will, every moment entirely mine. Even my hand-held device is no temptation; it is busy with some upgrade or another, and exists set aside until later, when I leave for work.

I rely on my senses for information about the weather, listening to the bluster of the wind whipping distant trees about and casting multitudes of leaves into the air, to settle in drifts along the sidewalk. The rain spatters the windows, and rings melodically on the chimney and vent covers. I smile, remind myself to wear wet weather gear, taking a moment to also appreciate having made time to replace the worn and raggedy small cross-body bag I’d been carrying for three years that finally lost the last bit of utility in the rain and wind on the way home Friday. It was no longer anything resembling water-proof, as it was, and Friday’s fierce winds ripped the body of the bag free of any attachment to its strap, clips and seams breaking free, tearing loose, scattering contents to the wet pavement ahead of me. I had even laughed it off in the moment, more engaged with the exhilarating sensations of the wind in the moment.

I could have continued straight home on my tired feet Friday evening, and didn’t actually expect to find a suitable replacement for a bag I’d loved for so long; I used the need as an excuse to take a few minutes out of the rain, though, and a reason to take a less crowded train. It was happenstance that resulted in finding just the right bag at just the right price as I walked past a shop window for a retailer I didn’t intend to visit. Moments are sometimes a lovely intersection of choice and chance. Over the weekend, patiently and with great delight, I updated my “everyday carry” to suit the new bag, the new job, the changing season. A process of bringing order to chaos. Today the new bag gets its first day out. It’s a small thing, nonetheless I am smiling and enjoying the moment. Why not? It’s a lovely one. 🙂

Mondays have a bad reputation… This one seems quite nice so far, rain and all. I think I’ll take some time to enjoy that, this morning, before heading into the rain, to the office, to begin again. 🙂

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Categories Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Sleepless Nights, The Art of Being, The Big 5

Raindrops…

October 16, 2016 //
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The rain continues to fall. I’m okay with that. I play songs that seem relevant to the experience of the rainy morning I’m enjoying. Songs that remind me to “be like water“, and songs that are “on the nose” and songs that are metaphorical.

Being a student is a good beginning, generally.

Being a student is a good beginning, generally.

I’m enjoying the morning before returning to my studies for the day. I smile, thinking of my traveling partner. We both really needed some downtime, and we’re both really getting what we each need; being individuals, what we need differs somewhat. It matters a great deal that we’ve made room for each other to have the experiences we each need, even where those differ pretty radically. “Go have fun doing what you do!” with a genuine smile and real enthusiasm is another way to say “I love you”. I most particularly enjoy the later opportunity to share those experiences with each other in conversation, pictures, and tales of adventure. 🙂

There is more to learn than I can know in one lifetime.

There is more to learn than I can know in one lifetime.

The heavy gray clouds break open briefly revealing blue skies beyond, and I look out across the meadow and the marsh. Will there be sunshine today? The blue seam of sky closes like a zipper. Perhaps not. 🙂

What about this moment right here? I breathe deeply, relax, and feel the smile tugging at the corners of my mouth – one that tends, these days, to be waiting for any opportunity to reveal itself. I’m okay with that. An authentic smile feels as good as a forced one feels strained and unpleasant; either has the power to create an emotional experience, just as our emotional experience can be reflected on our face, in a smile.

We become what we practice.

We become what we practice.

I find myself “stuck”, gazing out the window into the sky, watching the clouds shift, roil, and skitter past on the wind. The autumn foliage, gold, russet, and amber hues, is shaken loose on the wind, tree tops swaying, leaves raining down. Already there are bare branches reaching skyward, tree tops naked, silhouetted against the dramatic cottony whites and grays of the stormy sky. Autumn. Definitely autumn now.

Begin again. Somewhere. One choice. One change. One book. One moment. The day and the opportunity are yours.

Begin again. Somewhere. One choice. One change. One book. One moment. The day and the opportunity are yours.

There is still time to start laundry before the seminar begins for the day. There is time for a lovely hot shower, and a bite of breakfast. There is time for a second coffee – even a third. There is no rush; this is my life. Today is a good day to slow down and enjoy it.

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Categories autumn, Free Will, Healthy Living, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Perspective, Relationships, The Art of Being

What Was That About?

October 14, 2016 //
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I crashed soon after arriving home last night, but still much later than I generally intend to on a work night. I was sound asleep soon after that. Mmm… sleep….

I woke abruptly some time later, in a ridiculous amount of pain, and panic; my calves (both) were cramping up and as any animal might, I woke with a sense of anxiety, the physical pain itself, and a moment of real panic trying to figure out what to do about it before I was quite awake enough to understand what was wrong. I still have no idea what the hell was going on, why I woke to leg cramps so unexpectedly, or really any sort of cause/effect information at all. I lurched onto my feet, pain and all, and instinctively used my body weight and upright posture to “make” my calves do something more like whatever I think I expect. A few minutes walking unsteadily, painfully, around the apartment, and eventually the urgency died away, and the cramps eased. I went back to bed, so fatigued I dropped immediately back into a deep sleep. My calves still ache like crazy this morning. What the hell was that about??

The wind blew like the sky was angry last night, a shouting match tree to tree, across the parking lots and park meadows, the wind chime nearly being launched from its hook, and the potted plants rocked with enough force to hear some of them knock against each other. The trip home from the salon I visited was longer than my commute, and the late hour resulted in two opportunities to stand in the darkness, in the rain, waiting for a bus, enjoying the wildness of the wind tossing my newly colored hair; I arrived home disheveled, to that sense of warmth, comfort, and relief that I associate with “feeling at home”. It was lovely.

I was too tired to be irked that it was too late to light a fire in the fireplace, and made a quick healthy meal, which I ate efficiently, but not especially attentively. I set a timer to be sure I didn’t rush to bed so quickly that might give myself heartburn because of the late meal.  I grabbed my self-care checklist, and quietly perused it for details I might have missed during the day, and took time to meditate. Sure, tired. Sure, a late evening. Definitely could use 15 minutes more sleep this morning… but… my meditation practice matters. From the vantage point of a groggy morning after a short night, I might think for a moment that I could have benefited from those minutes of meditation being sleep, instead, but by days end my opinion on that could be quite different; the long-term skillful management of day-to-day stress, for me, requires that I carefully ensure that I maintain my daily meditation practice. This is what works for me. Perhaps you have found another way? I have not. 😉 I’m very tired this morning, but I’m less likely to face a meltdown later on, for having maintained my dedication to this important self-care detail. It’s a practice, there are verbs, and it has been very much worth it over time.

Begin again. Again.

Begin again. Again.

Speaking of meditation… there’s still time this morning, too. I hear the blustery winds beating on the outside of the apartment. The heater has not yet taken the chill off the room. My coffee is hot, tasty, and the kitchen is clean… seems a good time, and a lovely wild morning for taking some chill time on the cushion by the patio door, watching the dawn develop and listening to the wind.

Today is a good day to take care of this rather tired being of light, wrapped in this peculiarly fragile vessel. Today is a good day for eye contact, and for smiles, and enjoying love songs. Let’s change the world – together. Let’s be our best selves today.  🙂

 

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Categories art and the artist, autumn, health, Healthy Living, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective
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