Archives for category: grief

We Become What We Practice

June 20, 2018 //

The past day was pretty spot on for great results. I’m sipping my coffee and giving some thought to the previous 24 hours. I’m very human, and this moment taken to look over how yesterday went, without harsh criticism or reflexive judgmental nonsense, is a practice I favor, although it is worth noting that it also requires me to practice mindful awareness, perspective, and non-attachment, with some skill. A bit of pre-coffee word-juggling to begin a Wednesday.

Here’s a squirrel.

Yesterday I managed to stay the course for practices, goals, intentions, planned workload, errands, housekeeping… and this morning I still find myself looking upon the previous day favorably, contentedly, and without any hint of stress surfacing over some thing or other than I did or did not do. Nice. Win and good. I probably get fewer “experience points” for such an easy day, but this morning I am feeling accomplished, secure, satisfied, and rested. It’s lovely.

…and also a chipmunk.

It’s also work.

It was a good day, and not without effort to make it so. I fought impulses to snack compulsively. I fought impulses to wander off from all manner of things that needed to be done. I fought the temptation to collapse into a chair at the end of the day and do nothing. I fought the inclination to just not follow through on a variety of things I had set my intentions upon, earlier in the day. It was an all day battle with my inner teenager. Yesterday, I won. Today? No idea. I guess I’ll know tomorrow. 😀 Tomorrow? Yeah… that’s a ways off, from this moment, and rather than borrow stress from a moment that doesn’t exist, I stay with this moment, here, feeling content, and wrapped in love.

It’s kind of a weird time in my life. I’ve had times when most of the stress and complications in my life came from my relationships, others when it sourced with work pretty reliably, sometimes it was all in my head, and still others when it was all those things, or some combination. This is a very different time; almost none of my stress comes from my personal or professional life, at all. My stress exists largely as response to events in the world, these days. There isn’t much I can do to act on events beyond my control, besides all of the things that anyone else can do: letters, phone calls, protests, charitable donations to worthy charities that spend their funds on their actual causes, speaking up frankly in groups, speaking truth to power, using my privilege as an umbrella to support those less privileged, and spending my own resources with great care, such that very little of my own money goes to endeavors, or people, which I object to. Oh, and one last one; definitely not doing, myself, any of the hateful things I see going on in the world. (Oh, hey… it kind of looks like there are a lot of things we can each be doing about “the world”… but… are you, though?) Doing those things matters – but it doesn’t ease the stress in any noteworthy way. That has to come from other practices entirely. My stress lives within me – it’s a reaction. What I do about that is entirely within my hands. 🙂

I sip my coffee wondering “what is enough?” and considering the chaos in the world, without allowing my outrage to boil over. I haven’t read the news this morning. It’s best to let that wait, I think, and give myself a chance to start this lovely morning without all that. I take time to appreciate feeling good, myself, right now, in this moment, right here. That has value – it helps build the emotional resilience that will keep me steady later. That has more value that I can possibly overstate… it’s worth practicing the practices that build resilience, trust me; sooner or later, we all have to begin again, somewhere. 🙂

…Now seems a good time.

Tags be here now, be the change, begin again, being and becoming, breathe, Buddha's Brain, choose change if you want change, choose wisely, do something about it, emotional self sufficiency, good self-care, I am my own cartographer, I can't do it for you, Just One Thing, mindfulness, pause to enjoy who you have become, perspective, practicing the practices, ptsd, read a fucking book, Resilient, sufficiency, TBI, the happiness trap, the map is not the world, there are verbs involved, what matters most?, you've got to walk your own hard mile

Categories anger, Anxiety, Brain Injury, Free Will, Frustration, grief, Healthy Living, inspiration, Logic & Reason, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Spring, Summer, The Art of Being

Taking That Breath

June 19, 2018 //

This morning, before I quite realized what I’d done, I’d gotten lost in my newsfeed within moments of sitting down to write. I didn’t write. Well, I did write – but I wasn’t writing in a rational, purposeful, helpful way that supports me as a human, or shares something of value. I was mad. I was… posting replies. Oh my.

Once I noticed I was putting myself at risk of an angry screed, I pushed my chair back, sat fully upright, and took a couple deep deep cleansing breaths, and let myself relax. I held on to the awareness of that moment, breaking free of the tantalizing sticky trap of opinion, pulling myself free of the outrage machinery. (There is so much to be outraged about this days, no lie, that’s real.) Differences of opinion so easily become anger. We each feel so certain we are “right“, and that if only we could share the nuances of our personal perspective, everyone else would get it, too! While that may be true, now and then, it mostly just isn’t, at all. We are each having our own experience. It’s not actually fully share-able.

Don’t misunderstand, I’m not a “relativist“. While I do recognize that context, culture, and variations in human understanding and experience can change the truth of a proposition, I also understand the nature of reality to have unchanging elements (that I may or may not be fully able to recognize or understand, myself). I think how we define the terms we use matters a great deal, and definitely affects our ability to have meaning dialogue, generally, every bit as much as “the nature of reality”. I have an ethical framework, as an individual, that suggests to me that some actions and choices are “wrong” – meaning, not consistent with my ethics, as an individual. So far so good. Where things get messy, and I think this is true for a great many of us, is when my own sense of “wrongness” pressures me from within to make a point of calling it out when I see others taking those actions, or making those choices. Do I really get to decide right vs wrong for anyone but me?

Yes.

…Also, no.

So… “yes”, in the limited sense that I’m utterly free to express my opinion on the matter. However, in doing so, I’m a wiser happier human if I can also remain aware that my opinion on such things is not likely to a) change anyone else’s opinion (or actions) or b) have any great persuasive weight in the world, generally, and also… c) it’s not for me to decide what everyone else will think or do. I’m just saying. I mean that – I’m literally merely, simply, only, and “just” saying words. Someone may hear my words and change. Someone else may hear my words and double-down out of pure resentment and fury, because in their view I am clearly wrong. Still someone else will disregard my words without ever hearing me out,. We are each having our own experience. I don’t really get to decide what anyone else understands right or wrong to be – but I am not required to respect, value, share, or appreciate their perspective, beyond hearing them out, and accepting their agency.

I don’t personally take any of this to be an expression of futility, or as a reason to “stand down” or “keep my opinion to myself”, because humanity’s culture has formed around our opinions and understanding of the world. Our shared ethical commitments become our shared understanding of right vs wrong, and ultimately informs entire communities, and whole nations, allowing society to enact change. We do need to share our individual sense of right vs. wrong with each other to help steer this cultural ship through the waters of change and growth over time. It’s the anger and outrage of social media specifically (before coffee) that is problematic; too much noise, not enough signal. So, I give myself a break, sip my coffee, and bring my moment closer to home. I have plenty to do to make change happen right here. I have work to do to be the woman I most want to be. That’s a project I have real influence over – every day. My example, as an individual, has meaning without extending my reach “to the world” by replying to all manner of media detritus in a reactive moment. Hell, I don’t even respect the opinions of 100% of every human; some are worth far more than others (this is likely true for you as well), and we each “rate” the value of another person’s opinion on different criteria!! (Totally true, too.) So… another good moment to practice non-attachment. lol

I finish my coffee and begin again.

Tags be the best human being you are able to be, be the change, begin again, being and becoming, choices, choose wisely, do better, Don't be evil, don't be the bad guy, emotional self sufficiency, hell yes you're wrong, I am my own cartographer, if your neighbor did it to you would it still be okay?, my home my rules my way, perspective, practicing the practices, ptsd, relationships, some experiences are more worth having than others, sufficiency, taking care of me, TBI, The Art of Being, The Big 5, the map is not the world, there are verbs involved, walking my own path, we're each having our own experience, what matters most?, Wheaton's Law still applies, you don't tell me!, you have choices

Categories anger, Anxiety, Brain Injury, Despair, Fiction, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, grief, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Spring, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5, Words

Begin Again… Again.

June 10, 2018 //

I got a few things done yesterday, all of what I stayed home for, a few other things that really needed to get done, then… I stalled.

It’s been a thing most of this calendar year. I “run out of spoons” earlier, or hit some sort of peculiar metaphorical wall, and just… can’t. I’ve mastered “stillness”, but sometimes wonder if I have done so at the expensive of managing adequate effort. There is a balance to strike between understanding what must be done, and doing it, and also properly providing myself adequate self-care. This seems an obvious thing, and perhaps mentioning it is just extra words, but… once fatigue sets in, emotional or physical doesn’t seem to matter much, I lose considerable will and energy with which to continue to do. Inconveniently; I’ve got shit to do. lol

I woke this morning feeling rested, but had deliberately allowed all of the rather more costly pre-prepared coffee products of various sorts to completely run out; I know how to make a great cup of coffee, for fuck’s sake. This lack of effort needs to stop. So… I stopped it. Well, at least with regard to coffee. I had to properly be the adult in the room this morning and… actually make coffee. I fought that process every step with thoughts of grabbing the car keys and heading to a coffee stand, a coffee shop, a breakfast place… I kept the temptation at bay by also considering that I really wanted a good cup of hot coffee in a ceramic mug, fresh, perfectly delicious, not at all instant… no dairy… nothing fancy… just… coffee. Made by me. Without getting dressed. Without driving somewhere. Without spending money. The visualization of the realities of coffee in paper cups, and having to dress, then drive, before being coffee’d up were helpful; I just didn’t really want any part of that. So far so good.

Good coffee. Very satisfying. It’s already gone.

Next up? Everything else. LOL It’s Sunday, and although the housekeeping I’m fussing about is barely two hours of actual work, I’ve been stalling, or being half-assed about it, doing just enough to get by, for… weeks. (Months. It’s been months.) So, today? Today I recommit myself to what matters most to me, without any shame or self-criticism, and take a moment with the woman in the mirror, ensuring I’m not overlooking some urgent bit of self-care that may be standing in my way; averting my awareness from my own needs sometimes results in a peculiar refusal by my entire consciousness to participate in the needful task processing of daily adult life. lol Like having a recalcitrant toddler standing in my way constantly. Those unmet needs don’t yield so easily, and the lack of awareness holds the potential to slowly overcome me entirely with a fog of video-watching and scrolling through feeds numbly. Unhealthy. Unproductive. Empty.

This isn’t a situation that actually requires “troubleshooting”. I do understand what is happening here, and with the spate of recent suicides, I’m not willing to diminish the significance; I’m struggling in the sticky trap of long-term ennui that can develop in the aftermath of extreme or prolonged stress. I’ve got a bit of it culturally, just due to the horror-fest of shock and dismay that American politics and society have become (no kidding, it’s a thing), and then on top of it the regular upheaval week after week in my own community and social network this year… it’s been a lot to take, a lot to manage, and a lot to endure. I’ve done well – but I’m also tired. Rest, alone, is not enough; it has required both a lot of rest, and a lot of advance self-care, and I don’t always manage to make time for both.

Today I feel rested. I have a precise, fairly short task-based list of things that need doing, all very routine, and very familiar. It’s not even a lot of work… I just “don’t fucking feel like it”, and it’s time to get past that, because it simply needs to be done, and I’m the person here who is going to have to do it. lol Sometimes being the adult in the room is some work, and sometimes the work can be deferred, but eventually? It’s got to get done.

I’ve got my list. I’ve got my priorities. I’ve got the day ahead of me. It’s time to begin again. 🙂

Tags again, be here now, be the change, begin again, but you don't look sick, choose wisely, chores, emotional self sufficiency, ennui, experience, fighting the fog, get it done, good self-care, housekeeping, I am my own cartographer, I don't feel like it, I need more spoons, invisible injuries, just do it, make time for it, MBSR, mindful living, mindfulness matters, my home my rules my way, my results vary, OPD, perspective, ptsd, so human, spoons, sufficiency, taking care of me, TBI, the aftermath of stress, The Art of Being, the hidden cost of stress, the map is not the world, the spoon metaphor, there are verbs involved, walking my own path, what matters most?

Categories anhedonia, Anxiety, Brain Injury, Despair, Free Will, Frustration, grief, Healthy Living, inspiration, Logic & Reason, loneliness, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Spring, Summer, The Art of Being, War and News of War, Words

Why?

June 8, 2018 //

Tuesday it was Kate Spade. This morning, I read that Anthony Bourdain has also taken his own life. I pause for a moment to consider the engaging chef whose books and television shows entertained and educated me. I enjoyed his wit. The headline “Anthony Bourdain Has Died” didn’t prepare me for the further information regarding his suicide. There’s a certain different ache in my soul when I read of suicide…

…I know what despair feels like.

Well, shit. It’s a scary, seriously frightening and frustrating world these days. I get feeling overwhelmed by despair. Some days it is hard not to. We will see, for days to come, articles about suicide help lines, and some analyses of what drives people to take their own lives. There will be salacious gossip about the lives of the fallen. Someone will share a recent article about the high rate of senior or veteran suicides. Most of the people who read those will shake their heads, and turn away, unaware someone dear to them is on the brink of making that major “life” decision.

Connect with your loved ones, your friends, associates, and coworkers. Be sure to mention that they matter to you in an authentic way, and be real about it. It’s not about hyperbole and fake compliments, and it isn’t necessary to use superlatives. Easier to straight up give voice to that thing they do that you enjoy, or count on, or appreciate, or wish you did as well – or, fucking hell, just have lunch, or coffee – make time. Be present. Don’t rush those connected social moments; they are what matter most in our days. There’s no knowing when someone may choose to check out, and while you may not be able to change their mind about it, you can, at least, enjoy who they are while they are here.

On the other side of the equation, please consider sticking around awhile? If you’re considering a firm end to the chaos, and stress, and trauma, and struggle, and despair… please, just for a moment, consider that there may be other things you have yet to try. There may be practices that improve your experience, even if they don’t change the entire world, itself. Incremental change takes time – please give yourself some. Someone, I promise you, will miss you if you go.

I stayed. There are a lot of verbs involved, but it has been, very much, worth it to have stayed. I’ll go on with that, with staying around I mean, because things got better. Things continue to get better. I can’t promise that for you, but I can assure you that choosing change results in changes, so long as you do the verbs. 🙂 Your results may (will) vary, and the changes you choose in life may be somewhat askew from the changes you subsequently find unfolding around you, but change is. Despair isn’t particularly sustainable, it’s just annoyingly difficult to see through when we’re feeling it.

There’s one irksome thing about suicide that never fails to leave me feeling bereft and discontent; I don’t know why. No, I mean… I don’t know why. That’s what leaves me feeling so bereft and discontent. I’m not sure there’s any solid “why” to suicide. Surely, people have their reasons. Many leave a note behind, but often those are not public, and even when they are public, they leave so much left unexplained – as if I think there is, or should be, a reasonable explanation when despair overtakes someone. Despair is shitty enough to be its own reason.

One more time, I let the “why?” go, and pause for a moment to say good-bye to a fallen soul. I pause for regret. I pause to appreciate, to mourn, to find personal solace after a time. I pause to be aware I am, myself, okay right now… as though it could creep up on me, and take me by surprise, myself…

…Then I begin again.

Tags ACT, Despair, don't despair, don't go, emotional self sufficiency, get help, good self-care, listening deeply, love, MBSR, perspective, practicing the practices, ptsd, relationships, saying good-bye, someone cares, sufficiency, suicide, taking care of me, talk about it, TBI, there are verbs involved, walk on, walking my own path, what matters most?

Categories Brain Injury, Despair, forgiveness, Free Will, grief, loneliness, Love, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Spring, Summer

Foe, Faux, or Windmill?

May 19, 2018 //

My gear is packed. I’m rested. The work week is behind me. The weekend is ahead. My anxiety is through the fucking roof, in spite of there being “nothing wrong” in any literal sense; I am facing my inner demons, today, or at least one small cohort of the mocking hateful little bastards, and I am hoping to come through, if not “victorious”, then at least fairly cognizant just how okay I actually am. That’d actually be a pretty spectacularly big deal.

I survived family violence in my childhood home. I survived domestic violence. I survived the Army, and yes, I survived war. I have, actually, survived all of what life has thrown at me so far – even the good stuff. 🙂 What has lingered are the scars, emotional and physical. The learned limitations. The fears. The background stress of my injured brain insisting something is imminently going to go very very wrong. Scary dangerous wrong. Look out for that hazard right there!! Only… generally? No hazard. PTSD instead.

When things went sideways with my Traveling Partner’s other partner (in poly vernacular, my “metamour”), becoming a mental health crisis of epic proportions, affecting an entire fairly closely associated community, it was also a re-traumatizing event for me. The aftermath was even directly emotionally abusive, specifically targeted to be so, hurtfulness set on “stun”, although the weaponized words and emotions were being launched by a human being fairly obviously not in her right mind at the time, I am human, and I feel. All the feelings. I’ve got my own baggage to carry. Afterward, the easy solution for me has been to just “let all that shit go” and walk on. I do not need (or want) that kind of bullshit in my life, and I have learned to turn away from it.

Not all of life’s decisions are mine to make. Funny how that works. I get to make mine, and I have learned to respect, value, and insist upon my agency. It’s precious to me. On the other hand, I’m not strolling through life utterly alone, here; other people have their lives, too, and their own decisions to make, and they so do make them. I live with those decisions, as well as my own, because we’re all in this together. lol One such decision is to have a birthday party at the very location where “all the bad shit went down”, some weeks after the fact, and almost-but-not-quite as if nothing untoward or unpleasant had even been a thing. Weird. I have trouble wrapping my head around that. Inviting me into that environment seems a tad disrespectful, or even callous, although more likely it is merely ignorant of the potential impact to me, or even more likely still, I am highly regarded, desired good company – which may matter more to all of the non-me people involved. lol I got invited. …And… I’m an adult, right? My friends are adults, too. We are each having our own experience. Mine says ‘do not walk, run, get as fucking far away from that shit, as far as possible, because you do not want to be there when that mad bitch burns her fucking house down’… but… really? Well. I don’t know, do I? Mental health challenges being what they are, and love being what it is, people do make a fairly wide range of choices when loved ones lose their shit in one flavor of mental health crisis or another. People don’t always turn entirely away. I still don’t get it, myself, at this point in life; I’ve stopped taking abuse. Protestations of love are not enough to keep me in an abusive relationship. That’s non-negotiable…but…

…What’s a “safe distance”? In this instance, specifically, when there is no clear certain threat to me personally of any notable sort, what then? So… I’m doing something occasionally suggested in therapy, and utterly resisted by me. Exposure. Facing my fears, in real life. Making the choice to visit friends, and have a good time, in a physical location that causes me a fuck ton of anxiety and stress… for no obvious reason in this moment (the stress I mean; hanging out with friends does not need reasons, and every moment is a good one for hanging out with friends). This could be a very healing thing for me. It’s fucking hard as hell, though, and I find myself dithering a bit as I prepare to leave for the weekend away. It’s just an overnight, down and back, and a chance to look over some real estate on the way back. This? This is an experience to have.

There are verbs involved. Self-soothing. Taking time out to regain perspective. Practices to practice. This? It’s a test. 🙂 I’m content if I get a “C”… I would like to pass it, though. lol I take a deep breath and relax. I’m aware of the physical pain I am in – and the potential that some measure of that pain is directly related to my emotional well-being in some way. Another breath. I let my shoulders slide back down where they belong. I am okay, right now. The road beyond the driveway is quiet. It’s a good time to get started on this journey.

I am my own cartographer. My choices are my own. I walk my own hard mile. My results may vary; and I have choices. I become what I practice. The woman in the mirror smiles back at me. We’re in this together.

It’s time to begin again.

Tags a fast effective treatment for OPD, ACT, be here now, be love, be the change, begin again, being and becoming, breathe, choose wisely, emotional self sufficiency, experience, go crazy somewhere else, good self-care, I am my own cartographer, listening deeply, love and lovers, MBSR, meditation, mindfulness matters, not my circus not my monkey, OPD, perspective, practicing the practices, ptsd, relationships, taking care of me, TBI, The Art of Being, The Big 5, the map is not the world, there are verbs involved, walking my own path, what matters most?, you have no power over me

Categories anger, Anxiety, Brain Injury, Free Will, grief, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Spring, The Art of Being, The Big 5, women, Words

We Become What We Practice

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Taking That Breath

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Begin Again… Again.

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Why?

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Foe, Faux, or Windmill?

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