Archives for category: Brain Injury

I am contemplating change this morning, over my coffee. My coffee is quite good, and my sleep was restful, although I woke feeling the night was somehow too short. Pleasant easy mornings often find me sifting through the mental miscellany before the day gets going, and lately I am often considering tasks and projects associated with moving from one residence to another.

It's a process.

It’s a process.

Change, this morning, is ‘about’ the move more than it is about most other things, but the move is also a metaphor for change in general, and the necessity to bring my will to life in order to take advantage of the power of change. I find these loops of thought very pleasing, and taking time to appreciate the living metaphor helps me learn life’s lessons more comfortably, keeping me on the path of becoming the woman I most want to be.

There are verbs involved - and it is not possible to see what is around the next bend.

There are verbs involved – and it is not possible to see what is around the next bend.

So, this morning I am sipping my coffee and considering things that have yet to be done, and using the process of moving to bring order to chaos, to shore up the foundation of my contentment, and to improve on the way I life my values, and invest in a positive experience day-to-day.

Sometimes it seems a lot of work, and I'm not sure I'm on the right path...

Sometimes it seems a lot of work, and I’m not sure I’m on the right path…

A pause for writer trivia…I touch type. It’s a handy skill, and relying on muscle memory instead of looking at the keys allows me to type pretty fast. Interestingly [to me], I have the most damnable time hitting the ‘ – ‘ key. I often find myself having to light the keyboard to go find the damned thing. It’s most peculiar, particularly after actively and accurately touch-typing for so many years…except for the dash. Yep. That generally comes up as a ‘0’, ‘9’, or ‘=’ two or three times before I finally pause to look down, at least once a day. 🙂

There are obstacles. Distractions. Sideshows.

There are obstacles. Distractions. Sideshows.

I’m eager to get on with moving and get it out of the way. I don’t actually like the upheaval associated with moving, and I’m concerned how it will affect me until I am settled in. The concern itself causes me concern on top of that – does the concern hold the potential to make the stress of the move harder to take? Is being more aware of the effect change has on me more likely to make it easier to manage? I am aware, fussing within the quiet of my thoughts, that the answer to all those questions and concerns is held within the practices I practice – most particularly practices of mindfulness, self-compassion, and good basic self-care. There are verbs involved. The eagerness dances an interesting emotional tango with my chaos and damage, affording me numerous opportunities to practice practices and to plan. I like planning, it feels like a secure foundation on which to build change.

Sometimes the journey seems endless...and I have to remind myself that the journey is the destination.

Sometimes the journey seems endless…and I have to remind myself that the journey is the destination.

This morning, my thoughts pause like butterflies in a vast meadow before moving on to the next flower. Books. Paintings. Porcelain. Clothes. I think about apartment living, and how precious ‘space’ really is, and how I enjoy the luxury of space between things and room to move, and  how I dislike the clutter that seems to creep in over time. I consider how to best make use of what I have, to minimize the likelihood that I will react to the stress of moving by behaving like I need to ‘have more’. Meditation helps with that one, by quenching the shopping jones. Success requires the will to practice, and to practice more – I find it doesn’t work nearly as well unless the practice itself is committed, genuine, and authentically heartfelt and real. Your results may vary. There are verbs involved. There is definitely a prerequisite that I bring with me the will to change.

It is worth investing in me, and learning to thrive in difficult circumstances.

It is worth investing in me, and learning to thrive in difficult circumstances.

This morning the real theme is that making good choices, and building the beautiful life I want and enjoy, requires that I know what I want in a fairly clear and reasonably specific way. I don’t run from practicing practices – practice is what it takes – but I wholly dislike re-doing things that were done poorly the first time, or handled poorly due to lack of forethought or planning. So…I think, and I plan. 🙂 It’s a nice way to enjoy my coffee in the morning, and wake up to a day in which I am active in the process of fulfilling my fondest desires.

However endless the challenges seem, I choose my perspective, I choose my behavior, and I direct my will; my choices matter.

However endless the challenges seem, I choose my perspective, I choose my behavior, and I direct my will; my choices matter.

It’s a lovely morning to good basic self-care. It’s a pleasant day to enjoy the woman I am, right now, and all the good qualities I offer the world. It’s a worthwhile day to make eye-contact and share smiles – my fellow-man is also on a journey of discovery, headed somewhere of their own choosing, each and every one. It’s a nice day to see the world.

Each destination reached is the first step on another journey, and the horizon is limitless.

Each destination reached is the first step on another journey, and the horizon is limitless.

My coffee this morning is less appealing than most mornings. I slept poorly, when I slept last night, at all. I woke feeling groggy and stiff, and reaching for the alarm in slow motion. It seemed to beep an infernally long time. I started to fuss at myself about each detail that felt irksome, or disappointing, a choice that holds the potential to derail both the morning and the day, given an opportunity to do so.

I considered basic needs, instead, and the difference between wants and needs – real needs, basic needs. Is a bad cup of coffee actually such a big deal? Is having a really first-rate cup of coffee in the morning a ‘need’? I do enjoy it. It’s a high priority in the morning to have coffee, both for the ritual and routine of it, and for the pleasantness of the warmth of the cup in my hand. Does having that moment rise to the level of a ‘basic need’? Hardly. Does it, however, ‘meet needs’? Sure. Does my rather average, almost actually bad cup of coffee this morning meet my needs? It does.

If the need being gratified by my cup of coffee in the morning can be so easily gratified even by a bad cup of coffee, and if having a cup of coffee is not, itself, a ‘need’…what is the underlying need met by my cup of coffee in the morning?

The flowers may be lovely, but life's needs must be met before they blossom.

The flowers may be lovely, but life’s needs must be met before they blossom.

What is a ‘basic need’? Without checking references at all, I define ‘basic need’ myself as those needs that, left unmet, result in poor emotional or physical health, perhaps worsening until death may be an outcome. I mean…that’s the definition I tend to force myself to accept in difficult times, when a lot of other needs are unmet; it helps me get by until better times to tell myself I ‘have everything I really need to survive’. Is this extremely short list (food, water, sleep) really all there is to ‘basic needs’? I don’t really think so, myself, because those survival basics don’t do more than offer the most basic opportunity to wake up again to try another day. If I want to thrive, rather than simply survive, my list of ‘basic needs’ expands a bit to include things like shelter, appropriate clothing, sex, acknowledgment and internet connectivity (hey, it’s my list! lol). It gets complicated [for me] to understand, for example, that while I genuinely do see sex as a ‘basic need’ as an adult…my need doesn’t impose a demand on anyone else. That may be true of all needs, actually. My own individual needs do not constitute a demand or obligation on any one other human being, unless we share a specific contract – like the one human beings share with each other in marriage, or that we share as a society with our government. An interesting thought on a Friday that quickly takes me to the question ‘What do I feel obligated to do for my fellow human beings to ensure their basic needs are met, and what more can I do to build a world where we all see mere survival as an unacceptable minimum standard of life for humanity?”

Subjectively, I need this cup of coffee in the morning… It’s clearly not a ‘basic need’ in any sense. (I’m no expert, these are simply my own musings about needs, and your results – and opinion – may vary.) I go to great lengths to ensure I have it, however, and the feeling of having it satisfies in the way feeling a basic need met also satisfies. What’s up with that? I’m back to ‘what is the underlying need being met?’

We are connected, related, interdependent, and reliant upon each other for survival. How do I balance my needs, and wants, versus those of the world?

We are connected, related, interdependent, and reliant upon each other for survival. How do I balance my needs, and wants, versus those of the world?

Do you know what you really need in life? Are the most ‘important’ needs in life truly the basic survival needs? Once we’ve got survival going on…what then? What do I really need as a human primate, a creature of both emotion and reason, to thrive – to be the best of who I am, to become the woman I most want to be, to enjoy the many facets of living in a way that really satisfies?

What do I need to thrive?

What do I need to thrive?

Today is a good day for questions. Life’s curriculum doesn’t take a day off – and the quiz is always an ‘open book test’. Today is a good day to ask ‘what do I need from my life’? Today is a good day to find joy in whatever answers – or experiences – there may be.

I woke gently to a lovely morning. It seems…unflawed. Being human, I enjoy the moment aware that even lovely moments pass. Savoring the pleasant ones is lovely…but sometimes leaves me wondering what to write about. I have a handy list of things I thought about writing at some other time, but didn’t…I check the list and the very first thing reads simply ‘spelling mistakes’.

Flowers. Sunshine. Light.

Flowers. Sunshine. Light.

I will admit I read my own writing. I don’t know whether that’s an odd thing. I review new writing for spelling mistakes, grammar, syntax, incomprehensible weirdness, an overabundance of commas, a surplus of poetry resulting in a shortage of coherence; these are basic editing steps and sure, I do them. I also read my own writing. I find it is an excellent reminder of how far I have come, how far there is yet to go, and also serves to bring me back to understandings and knowledge I’ve already got, that I may lose sight of now and then. Poetically speaking, sometimes my writing serves to communicate with me – getting ideas across to me, past my injury – like passing notes to myself.

I rarely catch all the spelling mistakes. (Let’s leave my grammar and punctuation out of this. There’s only so much the features in WordPress can do to fight me off!)

Obvious spelling mistakes are pretty easy, and of course the spell-checker handles most of them, but I routinely miss at least one that I catch later, when I am reading my own writing. Sometimes a lot later. Years. It messes with my head to catch a spelling error in an older blog post, months or years later, if I am reading on the train, or under circumstances when I would not be able to immediately fix it; I am not likely to remember quite where or what it was, just that it exists. Most of the spelling mistakes I don’t catch fall into one basic category: real words that don’t fit. ‘Form’ instead of ‘from’, for example, or ‘that’ instead of ‘than’, and of course these are mistakes a spell-checker doesn’t generally pick up – and they change the meaning of the sentence! My least favorite outcome of a spelling error is being misunderstood. I can so easily get past the part where you may think I’m an idiot, or just dreadful at writing things down. Being misunderstood feels frustrating, unsatisfying, and alienating, sometimes shameful, as though the entire burden of successful communication rests on me. (If I am writing, it sort of does…doesn’t it?)

(My brain throws a humorous, encouraging scene into my imagination to lighten the moment, my own voice as an authority figure, calm and firm, an airport baggage claim carousel nearby, “Ma’am, please set the baggage down and back away quietly, and no one will get hurt…”. I smile, and let perspective win.)

Beauty

Another perspective. Sunlight and flowers.

I guess what I’m on about is that practicing good practices – whatever they are – does not lead to ‘perfection’. It leads a lot of wonderful places, depending on what I am practicing, of course, but ‘perfect’ isn’t actually one of them. ‘Proficient’ seems achievable, perhaps even ‘masterful’, ‘skillful’, ‘growth’, or ‘change’ – there are a lot of different outcomes to practice that are powerful or positive (again, depending on what I am practicing; not all practices are created equal). Perfection is not even on the menu, unless I redefine ‘perfection’ to be something achievable in the first place – and such a definition of perfection would have to leave room for the occasional mistake.

I make spelling mistakes. More often because I type very fast, than because I don’t know the correct spelling of the word I wish to use, some of them are a result of damage…but however carefully I write, I manage to make the occasional spelling mistake. My mistakes sometimes frustrate me, but they also tie me to this very human experience in a very human way. I’m okay with that. I still like to be understood, and to present my writing with great care and consideration; it is ‘speaking for me’. I know that when I read an old post, a missed spelling mistake can be very jarring, halting the flow of my thoughts, like a scratch on a beautiful wood finish. What about you? Do they mess with your reading enjoyment? If they do, let’s use the opportunity to connect; reply with a comment to the post, and tell me what the spelling error is. I’ll fix it and say thank you. 🙂 We are each having our own experience – but we are also all in this together.

I make mistakes. We all do. This morning is a lovely morning, and so much so that contemplating life’s small missteps and making time for perspective about the small things that can go wrong feels safe and comfortable, not the least bit worrisome or stressful. Mistakes are pretty human. Letting them stress me out is pretty human, but not very useful. Finding perspective on the every day stresses in life – like the spelling mistakes in a blog post – is a simple practice that I find builds emotional resilience over time.

Today is a good day for perspective.

Today is a good day for perspective.

Today is a good day to practice good practices. Today is a good day to be so very human, with all the wonders and delights that are just beyond the suffering, when I practice good practices and make good choices to support my needs over time. Today is a good day to take next steps, to try new things, and enjoy moments. Today is a good day to enjoy the world.

Another lovely quiet morning follows a lovely quiet evening. I have feelings that fit figures of speech such as ‘I’m really on to something!’ or ‘I found it!’. I am aware that these feelings, like any feelings, are feelings – lacking substance or reality independent of my experience. I enjoy them without becoming invested in them, or building expectations that this sensation of comfort, contentment, and some not yet clearly defined feeling are permanent or lasting. No emotions are permanent or particularly lasting. Emotions come and go.  Our inner world is very fluid, very malleable, very changeable. Change is. For now, though, these are the feelings I am experiencing, and it is a pleasant quiet morning.

One moment, one flower - we each blossom in our own time.

One moment, one flower – we each blossom in our own time.

The title is not ‘finding my way’ this morning…because somehow that implies there may be only one such way of  my own, and I am coming to understand that while ‘my way’ is my own, and my journey is my own, and my choices are my own…there are so many options on a such vast menu of choices that this morning I feel less comfortable implying that any one way is the only one, mine or otherwise. I am my own cartographer, and I choose my steps, choose my path, choose my actions (and even choose what I think those choices may be).

This week I have had multiple opportunities to do what I can to be ‘supportive’ for friends suffering one or more of life’s hurts. (I am not very good at it, although I mean well.) People hurt. People suffer. Sometimes people even choose to do so. That’s hard for me to watch. I want to say ‘hey, choose differently…’, and sometimes I even do say something quite like that, but I know from my own suffering that it can be hard to hear messages of free will and choice and good self-care when we hurt. What is it about the suffering that can make it so difficult to turn away from it, when we suffer? It is undeniably true, in my own experience, that practicing mindfulness, meditation, and good self-care are often quite enough to ease my suffering, however much I am hurting. It is also equally true that knowing this is not enough to ensure that I reliably take advantage of that knowledge, myself. I see the challenge reflected back at me in the suffering of friends and those dear to me; they, too, find it difficult to turn away from suffering, and to choose good self-care, balance, perspective, and to take advantage of the tools in their emotional toolkit to sooth their own suffering through careful application of some verbs and choices (and many of them are not even a little bit ‘broken’).  Life’s curriculum, this week, is enhanced by case studies. We are each having our own experience… we are all in this together.

What is it that stops us from embracing all our choices, or from maintaining broad perspective, or from remembering that ‘this too shall pass’? I am still more about questions that answers.

There is value in considering the vastness of our potential, and our options.

There is value in considering the vastness of our potential, and our options.

Today is a good day to share without pushing, and to listen deeply. Today is a good day for affection, good-natured appreciation of the small things, and kindness. Today is a good day to be practical, and to be hopeful. Today is a good day to make good choices. Today is a good day to enjoy what matters most, and to invest deeply in what I love. Today is a good day to change a world.

This morning I woke comfortably, easily, and moved through the beginning of my morning quite gently and with contentment. I feel wrapped in pleasantness, and generally in good spirits. It’s a nice start to a busy Tuesday ahead.

I don’t spend time, today, dissecting pleasant experiences – rarely do I immerse myself in the autopsy of a negative experience, either, these days. I have found that ruminating over what didn’t work…doesn’t work. Well, doesn’t work for me. Your results may vary. Similarly, questioning good experiences, however well-intended, can so easily stray into criticizing them, or denying myself the moment of joy. That’s beyond counter-productive, it’s actually mean. I don’t do mean. (When I say “I don’t do mean” I am not intending to communicate that it is beyond my nature, rather I am firmly setting a boundary with myself that this is not behavior I favor, and I refrain from it willfully, because I do not value the qualities of ‘mean’.) There are so many times it feels as if the world is lining up to knock me down or treat me badly – why would I contribute to that? It feels very good to treat myself well, to be considerate of my own experience, and to savor lovely moments.

Where does inspiration come from? Why does it feel like being in love?

Where does inspiration come from? Why does it feel like being in love?

This morning I am simply enjoying a quiet moment, feeling incredibly inspired and wanting very much to paint. For now, there is room in the loft to do so, and I may take the weekend and invest it my inspiration and take care of me on a level that I lack words for. I have, at this point, some dozen or more pieces sketched out in my head, two dozen or so sketched out in my sketch book, and a small handful of prepared canvases to work with…and  lot of drive to see color on canvas, and enjoy the physical experience of painting. My playlist is ready. All of it may have to wait for me to move into my studio… I’m okay with that, too. Perspective. Sufficiency. Contentment.

Tree of Knowledge, Tree of Life, and a living metaphor for inspiration.

Tree of Knowledge, Tree of Life, and a living metaphor for inspiration.

I am enjoying feeling wrapped in the singular sensation of self, of autonomy, of integrity, and of ‘wholeness’ that I experience when I paint – and when I am inspired to do so, and contemplating work not yet started. The heart of my being, the kernel of love at the center of the chaos and damage, is this creative drive, this experience of wonder and unlimited, unfathomable… yeah. I run out of words and run to canvas. That’s sort of how it works for me. 🙂 It’s a bit of my experience over which no partner, no family member, no boss, no authority figure, no elected official, no clergyman, no doctor, no lover, and no friend has held power over – and this morning, I am enjoying a moment of contentment as I consider that. I find myself wondering if we each have some core something-or-other that is the ‘who I am’ piece of self that can’t be controlled by someone else. I find myself thinking of Viktor Frankl, and feeling that ‘oh! I think I get it…’ feeling that always feels so satisfying in the moment. Maybe it’s madness.

Maybe it’s just a lovely morning, thinking about paintings I’d like to paint, creative projects I’d enjoy undertaking to fine-tune a beautiful life, and the delights of being able to enjoy being me? That’s certainly enough.

Today is a good day to take the time to enjoy my experience of myself. Today is a good day to take myself very seriously – and not seriously at all – and both in the kindest possible way. Today is a good day to love.