Archives for category: Fiction

Don’t Read the Comments!

January 31, 2017 //

I had to remind myself last night, and again this morning. Last night, I hit that point in response to a “pics or it didn’t happen” reply to a comment I made, supporting inclusion and diversity, and being a welcoming human being. I laughed out loud when I read the troll’s demand – I mean, honestly, in all frankness, that isn’t actually how reality works. The lack of a photograph isn’t really a determining factor in whether something is or is not “real”, or whether it happened, or whether you experienced it, or whether that is your perspective. I took a step back. Happy to enjoy the moment of laughter, instead of taking the bait. I moved on with my evening.

This morning, again, I got sucked into Facebook, reacting to expressions of hate and frustrated by the weird skewed perspective some people have taken on. I endure only so many “what the fuck??” moments before I remind myself that one of the fundamentals of our very human consciousness is that we are easily able – and prone – to just making shit up that fits our world view and calling that “true”, without any particular attention to whether it really is true, or factually accurate, or even loosely based on something someone actually may have once experienced, ever, at all. It must be equally frustrating to be a person whose world view is constantly challenged, fought, disputed, denied, contradicted, or laughed at… Oh. Wait. That’s like, literally, all of us. Human primates. Damn we’re fancy. It’s not always useful and in our favor, but holy cow we can make some shit up, and then insist it is important.

The hate is hard, though. I’m saddened by the quantity of fear and hate in the world. It would be lovely to halt the tide of hate. I guess… one thing I can do, myself, is to choose not to hate. I’ll work on that. I’ll start by asking clarifying questions, instead of reacting based on my own assumptions. I’ll work on staying mindful that each of us likely thinks of ourselves as the good guy in our own internal narrative. I’ll treat myself, and others – even those with very different thinking – with consideration, empathy, compassion, and start interactions from the assumption that we are all trying to improve things, from our own perspective. Maybe I will learn something useful along the way. Hate is hard work to sustain, and not very productive. 🙂

Still, and again. The very best practices work that way.

To be clear… I’m no less angry by what I see going on in the news. I’m no less concerned about fascism taking over America – that’s some scary shit, and it’s not okay – but blinding myself with reactivity and stress renders me one more agitated voice in a crowd, and could result in the sort of emotional fatigue that could quickly become learned helplessness. So. I breathe. I back up out of the comments. I think about what matters most, and how to be the woman I most want to be; this is my life. I take care of me, and do my best to take action in the world, in the ways I can – and I do it without disadvantaging anyone else. It’s a good place to start. It’s enough.

Tags be here now, be love, be the change, begin again, being and becoming, breathe, choose wisely, emotional self sufficiency, good self-care, I am my own cartographer, listening deeply, meditation, mindfulness, perspective, practicing the practices, ptsd, taking care of me, TBI, The Art of Being, there are verbs involved, walk on, walking my own path, what matters most?

Categories Anxiety, Brain Injury, Fiction, Free Will, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, The Art of Being, The Big 5, War and News of War, Words

Today First

January 30, 2017 //

America is fucking scary these days. I’m pretty sure I never imagined, once the Cold War ended, that we’d be standing on the brink of war, again, ever. Which… was silly of me. We’re primates. No “better” or worse than other primates. Fancy, but yeah. Primates. We fight over shit. We crave power, but having power corrupts our thinking and behavior. We draw imaginary territorial boundaries, and then fight over those. I wake to it in the morning, first thing. I go to bed at night fighting the anxiety it causes.

I remind myself to breathe. To relax. I put digital media aside, and remind myself also that this moment, right here, alone in this room, is not a scary moment, nor a scary place to be. I find comfort in now. I re-center myself right here, in this moment, in the quiet. It’s a practice because once I turn away from this moment, reach for a device, a connection, or respond to an email, I start wrapping myself in distress and despair once again. It’s necessary to continuously check myself; I am okay right now. That’s important, because in my okay state, I have the emotional resources to help another. So. Taking care of me, and maintaining a gentle readiness for action.

Life continues for all of us, even in the face of unexpected disruptions in routine, in order, and in the day-to-day sense of security and safety. It’s dismaying to see the clock rolled back on corruption and civil rights so suddenly – but I do see it. I’m not blind. I’m not turning away. I’m not excusing it or pretending it isn’t happening. I protest. I resist. I object. I call it out. I begin again. Like the signs on the bus say “See something? Say something.” America, I’m here for you. I don’t care what race you are, or what religion, or what lifestyle you embrace, or whether you have finally attained citizenship – we are all American.

Yesterday, I invited some of the neighbors over for coffee. Women I see and talk to regularly. Immigrants and refugees, lovely women rebuilding their lives in America. I see them as American. We sip coffee and talk about our fears. We lean on each other. We share laughter. They are from Syria, Algeria, and Libya – my own ancestry is primarily English and German – also immigrants and refugees. Every American who is not an indigenous American is an immigrant, a refugee, or descended from one. How the hell are so many of us also racists? It’s so vile. (This is why we can’t have nice things.) My neighbors and I talk together over our coffee about racism – here in America, and in the places they have come from. We talk about our fears, and the future. We talk about the way laughter in the face of our fears heals our hearts. We talk about community. I introduce them to South Park. We laugh some more. We make plans to watch South Park together again next week. 🙂

Later, in the evening, I share time well-spent with my Traveling Partner. We talk about many of the same things as with my neighbors, earlier. No surprise; good-hearted people everywhere are shocked, appalled, ashamed, angry, bewildered, and outraged. We hold each other. Share our fears. Find solace in intimacy. We talk together about the future, hopeful that there is one – neither prepared to wonder whether that’s realistic. The “Cold War vibe” is very real. He admits to his concerns. I make observations that we’ve been here before, and that there have been other presidents sick with evil, racism, xenophobia, misogyny, and hate before. The calm in my voice doesn’t do enough to camouflage my own feelings of doubt and insecurity. We support each other. It was a lovely evening, generally, and I feel grateful for his support in trying times.

Everything I do to enjoy life, and to share that joy, makes life more enjoyable all around, generally, and improves the world. Every time I drag myself from my self-crafted pit of anxiety and despair about the world, to experience this moment right here, now, for what it is, savoring my experience, cherishing it, and favoring myself with my own affection, respect and consideration, I improve not only my own experience right now, but also ensure that I have the emotional resources to carry on when times are genuinely tough. Taking care of the woman in the mirror matters, too.

Today is a good day to be and to become. It is a good day to reflect my values in my choices and my actions, and the way that I interact with the world. It is a good day to be kind, and set clear boundaries. It is a good day to be there for someone else. Today is a good day to change the world. ❤

Tags be here now, be the change, begin again, being and becoming, breathe, choose wisely, emotional self sufficiency, experience, good self-care, listening deeply, meditation, mindfulness, my home my rules my way, perspective, practicing the practices, taking care of me, The Art of Being, The Big 5, the map is not the world, there are verbs involved, what matters most?

What Are You Doing About It?

January 7, 2017 //

Some mornings, particularly on weekends, I sip my coffee and catch up on the news of the world and my Facebook feed before I settle down to write. On those mornings, I also fight “taking the bait” and I do battle with invisible forces hoping to leverage the power of outrage to get my attention, and others hoping to get their hands on whatever loose change may be laying about. I’m getting better at maintaining some balance in the face of emotional triggers of all sorts as I scroll through images and words.

The need to build more resistance to emotional manipulation, for me, is pretty serious. My injury and my PTSD tend to result in a level of emotionality generally (the TBI) and volatility (the PTSD) that can make me very susceptible to emotional manipulation, emotionally evocative language and images, and it has been difficult to manage over the years. If I’m being honest, I can’t say that I “managed” it all all, with any skill or noticeable success until I started practicing mindfulness – and omg, do I ever need practice, like, all the time, every day. So human. I learned a lot about how far I’ve come, during this past election year, and I also learned a lot about how far I’ve yet to go. So… I keep practicing. I keep finding my way along life’s journey, one step at a time. The news thing is tricky; I love to read, I consume content at a high rate, I love language… and I’m a highly emotional reasoning being. I needed something helpful to rely on…

I ask myself questions that seem to help sort it all out (for me).

Does this matter more to me than it did when I read the last article about this? If so, am I merely having an expected reaction to repetition?
Can I verify it is 100% utterly legit, fact-checked, references cited, real no bullshit data or information?
Who profits from this? (…and what does that say about the content?)
Is the content original? (If it’s creator content reshared/reposted, is the creator credited?)
What is my purpose in sharing this? Is it necessary?
What am I going to do about it? (If this is action-worthy at all, why not just take action and share that in my own words?)

I think, generally, most of my friends also read the news – no need for me to share it to ensure they hear the latest from the same mainstream sources most of us are reading. It’s redundant – which means it is repetitive, which results in higher believability whether it has a shred of truth or not. Not helpful. If I’m angry about it – do I actually want to share that experience? If I feel moved to share content solely on the basis of seeking “solidarity”, sharing the experience of being outraged or angry, or looking for community… wouldn’t it make so much more sense to reach out to friends directly, human being to human being, get together over a coffee, or hang out together, and really talk, really share? Sure, we’re all in this together… but using Facebook to reprogram our culture seems to be taking us all to some very strange and fairly ugly places.

I’ve gotten sucked into Facebook time and again, and wasted hours of precious limited lifetime – not connecting with friends and deepening those relationships, either, just reading the news, reading memes, scrolling through duplications and repeats, and generally filling my consciousness with the cognitive equivalent of junk food. I’ve added to the noise, reposting articles that evoke an emotional reaction without closely examining why, or even whether the content is highly accurate, and unbiased. You know what it got me? What it got all of us? The 2016 election outcome. That event has really changed my thinking about what purpose Facebook serves in my experience – and what it can do, and how it affects my quality of life, generally, as an application – because that’s all it is. It’s an app. It’s up to me to use it well, and use it wisely, and be mindful of the results I see, and the consequences of my actions.

Facebook – another opportunity to be mindful. Who knew? 🙂

I’ll hop down off my soapbox. It’s a gray, cold, wintry Saturday morning. WordPress notes that it’s been 4 years here, sharing, practicing, walking my own mile. My coffee is done. The morning has begun. Thanks for being here.

Today is a good day to live life in real-time, with real people, in physical space. I think I’ll go do that. 🙂

Tags 4 years later, are you really helping?, be the change, begin again, being and becoming, choose wisely, content creators, credit where credit is due, Did you hear about what happened?, don't lie, don't steal, emotional self sufficiency, he said - she said, listening deeply, mainstream media, mindfulness matters, network news, perspective, practicing the practices, propaganda, ptsd, special report, taking care of me, TBI, The Art of Being, The Big 5, the outrage machine, there are verbs involved, walking my own path, we're all in this together, what matters most?, what's your story?, who profits from this?

Categories Anxiety, Brain Injury, Fiction, Free Will, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Mindfulness, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, The Art of Being, War and News of War, weight loss secrets, winter, Words

Gnōthi Seauton

December 12, 2016 //

No, seriously, do it. Take time to sort yourself out, to figure out who you are – based on your values, your understanding of your experience, your wants, your needs, your chaos and your damage – the highs, the lows, all of the whole of your experience are part of the answer to the question “Who are you?”. The answer itself is that first step on any journey, whether the answer is held in our awareness or not; whether we take the step is part of who we are. Who we are fills that moment, often imperceptibly brief, between when we form the thought or feel the impulse to step forward, and the moment we lift our foot to take the step. It is in the thought itself, and the impulse.

Today is “team building” with my professional peers. I’m okay with that. I find reflection powerful. I find communication useful. I enjoy growth, and relish connection. Should be a fun day.

Along the way, of course, there is structure to which I must succumb, and I find myself doing so with some amusement; I have been here before. Personality tests are often a part of these experiences, intended to foster improved understanding of one another. A younger me would go into it with less comfort and more resentment, understanding that these tests and quizzes have literally zero actual evidence backing them up as having any particular accuracy or validity whatsoever. (I’m not bashing on whatever your favorite eye-opener is, I’m just saying that generally speaking, things like the Myers Briggs test and DiSC assessments have no scientific basis, even after many years of use and data gathered. They are corporate America’s astrology, best done for ‘entertainment purposes only’ and taken with a grain of salt.) I find value in the sharing and communication. I enjoy working with people who feel connected and informed. If a quiz can open those doors, then let there be many such activities! 🙂

I don’t need to be “right”.

I know myself. Well, better than most other people know me, at least. I’m still working on the rest. Am I the “ENFJ-A” of this morning’s Myers Briggs? Hardly. I am a more loosely defined, more variable set of characteristics. I live. Any one quiz, however many questions, makes observations based on a snapshot, a moment, a few answers of ever-so-many more that may be available. An astute observation that results in improved self-awareness, easier authenticity, and a more enjoyable life-experience overall is surely welcome – but I won’t be changing my mind about what I know of myself on the basis of an internet quiz. 😉

I do put effort into this whole “knowing myself” thing, though; there’s more to learn. Like the vastness of space, or the unfathomed depths of the oceans, there is much I do not know about life, love, and the woman in the mirror. On every journey there is an unexplored horizon in the distance.

Today is a good day to walk on, more questions than answers, eyes-wide open, awake, aware, and engaged in this moment.

Tags are you going my way?, be here now, being and becoming, experience, Gnothi seauton, I am my own cartographer, listening deeply, perspective, ptsd, relationships, TBI, the map is not the world, walking my own path, what matters most?, who are you?

Categories Brain Injury, Fiction, Free Will, Logic & Reason, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, The Art of Being, Words

Tricks and Treats

November 1, 2016 //

Halloween is over. I did what I do most years. I made sure I had candy on hand to give to roaming bands of tiny costumed raiders, should any appear, and made jokes in the office about coming to work as a “sexy [whatever-my-current-job-is]”, without making any changes in appearance. I giggle about it every year, and every year it is enough for me. I delight in the more involved efforts of others, children and adults both, and that is also enough.

Last night’s treat was the little girl a couple units down, who was the first trick or treater to my door. I’m not stingy about these sorts of things; there is fun in the excesses and wide-eyed moments. I dug deep into the heavy “black cauldron” of sweets at the door (it was actually my black enameled cast-iron dutch oven, adequately cauldron-y for the occasion) and pulled a crazy fistful of all manner of candies from the darkness. Her eyes went wide with surprise, and her little jack-o-lantern was well-filled with the additional goodies. She gave her mom a huge grin, and did the
“excitement dance” of wordless joy, and they headed off into the night. I think she was dressed as a princess… or maybe a butterfly… it was a chilly night, and she was wrapped also in a warm coat. I remember her delighted smile more than any detail of what she wore.

Last night’s trick was simply how tired I was. I crashed early, just as soon as the sound of children’s laughter was no longer reaching my door, after a shower, some yoga, some meditation – it was fairly early. I woke to the alarm clock.

The long commute is not an ideal fit for my long-term needs, and continues to reinforce my commitment to get into a little place truly all my own, either well-suited to my retirement needs, or more temporarily much closer to work. January isn’t that far away, and it is the last month on this lease. I’ve put time into planning next steps, and getting all the paperwork likely to be requested sorted out and gathered up. It’s a time for getting small details worked out, small problems solved, small challenges overcome, and of course, as they develop I add them to my list of things to get done, and each week I do some of them. It’s all very orderly – I like order.

My life in general improve greatly once I understood how very much I do like order, and how critically important it was for me, personally, to balance my desire for order with my inner chaos. I spent far too long chasing “good” characteristics that had value for someone else, but weren’t all that important to me in any direct or personal way. Gnothi seauton, people. Seriously. Do you, no one else will do that as well. Sounds easy, I know, and on the face of it that makes sense; I have all the knowledge necessary to know myself, do I not? Who else would have more? Yeah, I know. It’s rarely so simple, once we’re finished with painting ourselves into metaphysical corners, and wrapping ourselves in the concertina wire of the expectations of others, our feelings of obligation, and our assumptions about the world around us – what do we really know? I smile and sip my coffee. I know myself. I am irrefutably the expert on the woman in the mirror, and fairly comfortable with her, at this point, too. It makes for a firm starting point for most any journey. I’m glad I finally got here. 🙂

Take off your mask – Halloween is over. It’s time to face the person in the mirror, and know yourself. Today is a good day for self-knowledge, and self-awareness. Today is a good day to start that journey; there is more to know. Today is a good day to be mindful that we are each having our own experience, each wearing our own mask, and each walking our own mile. Today is a good day to take off our masks and face the world.

Tags be the change, begin again, emotional self sufficiency, getting from here to there, meditation, mindfulness, mindfulness matters, perspective, practicing the practices, sufficiency, The Art of Being, The Big 5, the map is not the world, the masks we wear, there are verbs involved, walking my own mile, walking my own path

Categories autumn, Brain Injury, Fiction, Free Will, Healthy Living, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, solo hiking, The Art of Being, Words

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