Archives for category: forgiveness
« Older Entries
Newer Entries »

The Parable of Quicksand

January 28, 2025 //
0

I’m thinking about a distant friend dealing with a difficult time. We all have them, at some point, don’t we? It’s very human. I sip my coffee and wonder what I could say to offer some measure of hope, or something constructive that might help, but more than likely he just wants to be heard – don’t we all?

When it feels like it’s all stairs, it’s nice to have someone sharing the journey.

Some of our most human challenges are a bit like quicksand. We stumble into them unexpectedly, whether we know to watch for them or not, and there we are – struggling in it. The more we struggle, the more the quicksand sucks us down into the pit, without anything firm to stand on. Scary. Struggling isn’t helpful; we may lose any chance of regaining our footing and be sucked in completely, beyond reach of help. Lost.

Quicksand is strange stuff. In practice, it’s unlikely that quicksand will actually pull a human being entirely down, fully encompassing them and smothering them to death (or drowning them). If someone trapped in quicksand stays calm, relaxed, and spreads their weight out (say, by laying back on it and “floating”), they are likely to be able to free themselves. (Definitely, with some help.) There’s the trick to it; it seems ever so much scarier than it has to be, and it is the fear, the panic, and the struggle itself that creates most of the hardship.

…True in our emotional lives, as well as in quicksand, eh?…

Perspective matters. “Emotion and Reason” acrylic on canvas w/ceramic and glow 2012

I breathe, exhale, and relax, and think about moments in life in which my own panic or dread has created trauma and challenges far beyond whatever the circumstances themselves may have done. It’s a very human thing. Emotion operates by different rules than reason, and it’s often helpful to endeavor to stay calm, and to “spread things out” a bit, to put less weight on the moment, and maybe even ask for some help. I personally find a consistent meditation practice, and some time to myself each day for self-reflection to be useful practices for maintaining my perspective and “emotional equilibrium” in order to “avoid the quicksand” in life (and love). That’s what works for me. We’re each having our own experience, but if struggling isn’t working out for you, maybe try a different practice?

“Emotion and Reason” lit differently – how we view emotions, and how we use reason, make a difference.

I sit with my coffee and my thoughts a little while longer, watching daybreak arrive. Soon enough it’ll be time to begin again. No doubt my results will vary, and it’s true this journey has no map, but I’m in good company (we’re all in this together), and I am my own cartographer on this journey. I’m okay with that; the journey is the destination.

…I wonder where this path leads?

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Allegories, Anxiety, Art, breathe, Despair, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, Logic & Reason, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Moments, Parables, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being, The Big 5, winter

Versions

January 27, 2025 //
0

I’m sipping my coffee in the quiet of the office before dawn on a Monday morning, listening to a favorite jazz singer crooning softly in my ears. I find myself reflecting on the last time I listened to this particular woman’s voice, before “rediscovering her” recently, searching for a particular song to share with a friend going through some things. I lived a very different life at that time. Most of the music I listened to then was jazz. That realization got me thinking about the many different “versions of me” I have lived over a lifetime, through the lens of the music I listened to.

Using music to differentiate from one version of myself to another, I can see myself change over time, through career changes, addresses, partnerships, personal philosophy and points of view, economic circumstances, the books I read, the language I used, the way I painted, and even preferences in how I dressed, and who I hung out with. Change is. I’ve grown over a lifetime of choices, opportunities, and circumstances. Some of my changes have been inflicted upon me, some were choices. In some sense, I have been many women.

“Lichen II” watercolor on paper, 8″ x 10″ 1984 (painted while listening to jazz)

That woman who listened mostly to jazz lived with domestic violence, which she carefully hid from the view of colleagues. She had few friends. She was physically beautiful – as beautiful as she would ever be, but her mind was a mess. Her values and philosophy in life reflected the strained jigsaw puzzle of thinking errors and mental gymnastics needed to rationalize her experience. She lived a strange sleepless life, traumatized and anxious, and always vigilant. Music – particularly jazz – was always “a safe topic” at home. An acceptable shared pleasure. Her home was compulsively meticulously neat, always. It had to be. She was young – in her 20s – and a soldier on active duty. Respected at work, mistreated and tormented at home, she kept people at a distance, except those occasions when she “let it all go” and hit the club looking for a moment of affection in a stranger’s embrace, when circumstances permitted. It was a life of confusion, and as her mental health eroded, her substantial collection of jazz CDs increased. I listen to that music now with mixed emotions, when I listen to it at all. I find beauty in the music, and distress in the memories. I am a lifetime away from that young woman, and a very different person. I make different choices. I think different thoughts. I believe different things and understand the world differently.

I chose change many times before I ever put myself on this path. Searching for something different, and finding differences, but not wellness, contentment, or joy. For a long time I blindly chased “happiness”, finding mostly misery.

“Communion” acrylic on canvas w/ceramic details, 24″ x 36″, 2011 (painted listening to a mix of EDM tracks)

I’d found myself mired in futility long before I met my Traveling Partner. His friendship pulled me back from the brink of despair more than once, before we were ever lovers. His love was literally “life changing” – because it changed my thinking, and my choices. I’ve come so far! I smile to myself, and change the music. I’ve “changed the music” many times in this one mortal lifetime (it’s a metaphor). I’m grateful to have had that opportunity. I smile and listen to wise words in a favorite song. We can choose change. Sometimes change is forced upon us. Change is. I’m grateful for this enduring love (and partnership) along the journey.

“Siletz Bay Pink Sunrise II” pastel on pastelbord, 7″ x 9″, 2024 (painted listening to love songs)

…The journey is the destination. There is no map. If you stray from your path, begin again.

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Allegories, anger, anhedonia, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, grief, inspiration, joy, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being, winter, Words

Softly

January 26, 2025 //
0

I’m sitting with my thoughts, waiting for the sun, and watching a thin sliver of moon rise over the southern horizon. I’m reminded of a particular jazz version of a poignant song, and struggling to remember the name of the vocalist who sang the rendition I like.

Moonrise before dawn.

I finally remember her name. Nancy Wilson. What a voice! The song lingers in my memory, significant and personal. I find a recording of it online and play it as day breaks and the eastern horizon turns orange. It’s a beautiful moment. I savor it.

An owl flies overhead, passing through my field of vision, silhouetted against the the sky as I watch the sunrise. An omen? No, silly, an owl. 😉 I smile to myself, and breathe, exhale, and relax. I watch distant mumurations of flocks of birds across the bold orange sunrise. A good morning for birds, apparently. I try to get pictures, but I’m not fast enough and was unprepared; I “settle” for enjoying the sight. It’s enough to be present in this moment, here, now. It usually is.

The park gate clangs open. Dawn lights the trail. It’s a chilly morning and I wind my scarf around my neck and stuff my gloves into my pockets, expecting to need them. I pause to massage the painful places of my shoulder and neck before I leave the warmth of the car for the beauty of the trail. Always choices. Always verbs. I hear geese calling overhead. It’s time to begin again.

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Allegories, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, inspiration, joy, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, The Art of Being, winter

Intentions, Choices, and Change

January 15, 2025 //
0

So, the tl;dr on the visit to the new doctor is that I have a new doctor, and feel pretty well cared for, and one result is a renewed feeling of commitment to my health, generally, and less frustration and fewer feelings of futility about the work involved in being in good health. I’ve got a way to go, and there’s work to do. Predictably enough, I got pretty lax about things like my diet over the holiday season. Time to return to good practices and healthy choices, and there are a bunch of fucking verbs involved. lol

I spent some time this morning, over my black coffee (iced, no sugar) thinking about diet, nutrition, exercise, and cooking for a family while also staying focused on my own needs (and limitations). There are some foods I really like, that I can’t have (or have to limit very strictly), and that just has to be a practical part of the day-to-day without fussing or frustration. Examples? Cheese. Butter. Sugar. Non-nutritive carbs. Those are the biggies. I definitely enjoy cheese…and if I’m having cheese, I probably want that on a cracker… which are purely empty carbs with added sugar. So… no. Butter? Damn, I like cooking with butter. I don’t like the results with butter substitutes, and some recipes don’t turn out quite as well using oil – even healthy oil like avocado or olive. So… yeah. Butter needs to go, too, at least on my meals. Sugar? Just being real, that shit’s basically poison to me. I don’t need to be convinced. The hard part isn’t giving up gummy sweets (which I do really like) – the hard part is strictly limiting fruits to appropriate, measured, controlled, limited portions. These necessary restrictions don’t exactly leave me starving for flavorful meals. lol I’m not that fussy an eater, and I really like squash, and spinach, and eggs, and lean chicken, and broccoli, and beans, and nuts, and salads… so… yeah. Change is. I just have to do the work and demonstrate the commitment and the discipline, and I know that I feel better when I do. Choices.

So… there’s that…

Then… I need to do a little more, and do it a little faster. Basically, I need to make a point to burn those calories. lol I walk – but I’m not walking at the brisk pace I once did. I’m more… ambling along pleasantly enjoying the scenery. I’m in pain, and pushing harder isn’t easy. I’m grateful to be walking at all. Still, it’s time to pick up the pace and make real gains in strength. My doctor was frank with me, and also kind and encouraging. I know I’ve got this – it’s just that there really are verbs involved, and I’ve really got to do them for myself. Maybe that means on some days throwing in an extra walk, just around the neighborhood, at a proper quick pace with my cane and without taking pictures of flowers? I can easily get a mile or more in 20 minutes if I maintain a steady pace – and I know I should be able to do that without being breathless, at all. It’s worth doing. The more able I am, the more I’ll be able to do. More trails become attainable, greater distances become practical for a day hike. It’s worth the effort – and it’s okay that it will be an effort. That’s part of the point; doing the verbs.

This isn’t about new year’s resolutions, and these aren’t unexpected or unreasonable changes to need to make. I’ve been here before. I’m here again. That’s okay – it’s time, that’s all. The holidays are over and there’s work to do to be healthy and fit. Will I fail? Fuck yeah, probably; I’m very human. Will I begin again when I do? Definitely. I’ve got a goal, and a journey ahead, and it’s my path – I’ve got to walk it myself.

I smile and finish my coffee. I feel okay. I slept restlessly, and woke in pain, but neither of those things are out of the ordinary, nor do they cause me any particular concern, they’re just details to work around, and to cope with. It’s a very human experience. I’m feeling pretty encouraged and motivated. It’s time to begin again. Again.

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Practices, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, The Art of Being, weight loss secrets

Memory Lane

January 13, 2025 //
0

I woke abruptly shortly before my silent alarm lit the room. I lay still and quiet, wondering what woke me, and still sensing the lingering remnants of my dreams. There was, rather oddly, an old Juice Newton song stuck in my head – not music I listen to, nor have I heard it recently. Peculiar, especially knowing I have not heard it recently (on background music in the grocery store or something of that sort). 1981 – I was finishing high school and preparing to head to basic training that year. It was a year of a lot of change. I was 17.

By the time I reached the office, the music in my head had shifted. 1975 – 10cc. Weird way to time travel, eh? I’d have been… 11? 12? Not long after my (most significant) TBI. It was a strange time, and I still lived at home, with my family of origin. I guess I could just say “with my family” – but that means different things to different people these days, and I’m specifically referencing my mother, father, and my two sisters, in this case. As I settled in to work, the music in my head moved on with the years… Alice Cooper… Van Halen… AC/DC… I listen to songs from other times, still loving them, still moved by them, and just a little astonished by how much my tastes have changed over the years, with moods, with moments, with circumstances, and with relationships. I shake off a moment of soft sorrow, and choose a playlist from a more recent time, more upbeat, associated with happier memories and easier times. “A better groove“. Music is almost a kind of magic, I sometimes think – a way of casting a spell over ourselves, and carrying our heart back to another time, a different place.

I grin to myself and think of my beloved Traveling Partner and his exceptional gift for creating an emotional moment using music. He has inspired me so often, and moved me to laughter, to tears, to passion, so many times. I remember that I don’t have to sit with my pain just because a song plays… I can change the music.

It doesn’t do to dwell on sorrow and pain, and it’s very much a choice I can make – to let that go, to control the mood in the moment, to grab the wheel and drive. It’s my journey, after all.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. There’s a horizon in the distance, and a journey to make between here and there. It’s time to begin again.

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Allegories, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, grief, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being
« Older Entries
Newer Entries »