Archives for category: health

Yesterday was an odd day. Once it got going, it seemed fractured, busy, filled with distractions and generally just a bit too much. It was difficult to maintain focus on the job interview scheduled in the afternoon, and I was fighting a sense that “I don’t want this!” that was also ‘unsourced’ and more a vague impression than a clear signal something was amiss…did I ‘not want’ the stress and distraction of waiting for the scheduled interview? Did I ‘not want’ the interview itself, the job, the opportunity… or something completely unrelated? I handled the day without regard to the sensation, and set it aside for later consideration. I expected the interview might go poorly, based on my state of mind going into it.

I was incorrect. The interview went very well. This proved to be equally problematic, frustratingly, because I found myself completely over-excited, like a kid going to a favorite theme park; the clue is in the feeling, and I recognized that much of the excitement was anticipatory, which also means it isn’t a feeling about things happening now, as much as the potential for things that have not yet occurred to occur in the future…which is also not super helpful in the moment I’m in. When I found myself escalating in emotional intensity very quickly, I went a step beyond enjoying the experience, and made room for the awareness that for me, this pleasurably intense experience also held great potential risk that when I ‘crashed’ from the delicious emotional cocktail, I could find myself unmanageably irritable or frustrated by something small, as well as more reactive than responsive (considering the existing highly reactive, though pleasant, state of being at the time). What to do?

There was a time when my understanding of managing emotional highs and lows was that it required me to cut off the highs, because it was a necessary byproduct of any attempt to cut off the lows; the basics of Rx mood management using existing pharmaceuticals sometimes relies on this unfortunate trade-off. Sadly, I didn’t find the strategy particularly effective. I still had the highs and lows. The lows were still… yeah… okay, let’s not talk about the lows just now. The highs, while they felt pretty splendid to me, were not necessarily always comfortable for loved ones or coworkers, and nearly always put me at greater risk of ‘saying the wrong thing’. I was still very volatile and reactive, still prone to horrible tantrums, prolonged crying jags, confrontational levels of irritability…and on those medications, although the difficult days were somewhat less difficult, and possibly less frequent…so were the good days both less enjoyable, and less frequent. It wasn’t working for me…and mid-way through 2013, my strategy had changed/was changing a lot, in favor of learning to be more mindful, and to treat myself with greater care and consideration. It has changed a lot of things for me. It changed my yesterday.

Still the most powerful Rx for treating the chaos within...

Still the most powerful Rx for treating the chaos within…

Yesterday, feeling the surging excitement and finding myself restless, filled with nervous energy I struggled to harness productively, and concerned by the potential for my mood to crash suddenly, I put myself on pause and emailed my partner that I’d be going offline for awhile and difficult to reach (good expectation-setting prevents needless worry). I practiced the one and (currently) only practice that addresses an escalated state of over-enthusiasm, child-like extreme excitement, and eagerness run amok and becoming chaos; I took a seat on my meditation cushion, no distractions, no agenda, no music, no plans. I meditated. Nothing fancy; I focused on my breath, and brought my mind back each time it wandered, with patience and genial contentment, and without frustration. I failed a lot. I began again each time. My mind would wander. I’d reel it back in. I fussed and fidgeted. I calmed myself and began again. It works. It’s easier over time. In this case, easier over about 2 hours time, which I followed with a leisurely soak in a deep hot bath with Epsom salts. (Looking back on that, reversing the order may have been a more efficient choice…)

It wasn’t as if there weren’t things I could be doing. Now I could do them. I finished off the tasks I’d planned for the day, and enjoyed a gentle evening, having regained a sense of perspective and calm. I smile now, thinking that there are no doubt people who would balk at the mere suggestion that meditation might take 2 hours of time out of the evening, or away from their family, or any number of other reasons it’s too much time to invest in one’s self… but… 2 hours? The length of a movie? The amount of time typically consumed watching back to back TV shows that won’t even linger in memory? Seriously? And for pharmaceutical-free mood management and mental health support? Seems worth it to me. (What do I know? I am not an educated mental health professional. I’m not a scientist, or clinician. It’s an opinion, relevant entirely to my own experience… Your results may vary. Mine do. But… seems worth trying. Maybe trying again.)

The evening wasn’t fancy, but it also wasn’t broken. It was a lovely quiet one. I enjoyed the evening as it began to wind down.

Yesterday's sunshine.

“The Alchemyst” blooming in yesterday’s sunshine.

This morning I woke gently, and without much pain. It seems an ordinary and pleasant morning. I smile noticing that those two qualities are now paired in my experience day-to-day: ordinary and pleasant. I’m not sure when that change occurred. “When” doesn’t matter as much as that it is a thing that exists now. Incremental change over time is worth the practicing, worth the self-care, worth the attention to details that matter to no one but me in the moment – and it’s worth being patient for. There are still verbs involved. I know I’ll likely still have difficult dark days when I struggle to choose well, even when I see the choice that will serve me best spelled out in front of me. I’ll begin again. No doubt it will be necessary to begin again sometime after that, too. It’s ‘practice’ because there is no ‘perfect’; it is the nature of journeys to continue. I’m okay with that. 🙂

Walking my own path, one step at a time.

Walking my own path, one step at a time.

I don’t know what today holds… Most likely it will be enough. 🙂

I woke last night abruptly, sometime in the wee hours. My brain was working overtime on something that was on my mind; my weight. I find managing my weight difficult. It’s a common enough challenge, and I won’t bore you with bitching and fussing, we’ve all got our own Tale of Awful with regard to beauty challenges of one sort or another, and other writers write well and powerfully about how our self-image is affected by culture, advertising, internet trolls, our upbringing… all that. I won’t bother to re-hash it.

I had gone to bed irked because I gained some weight that I’d fought hard to lose. Again. I woke up because my busy brain continued to contrast, compare, filter, collate, and sort information from a number of areas of life where I have (or have not) progressed and how I understand things to have worked in that instance. I woke because my brain got finished with that project and urgently needed to get my attention back on it asap. lol Peculiarly (encouragingly) I woke feeling hopeful and aware – aware of how I affect my progress (or lack of it) – and how I can get control of it (and myself) and make more powerful gains toward my goals. Nice.

Yeah. There are gonna be verbs involved. 🙂 I can even sum it up pretty briefly; I need to eat mindfully. No kidding. It could be literally that simple – and will likely be every bit that difficult. I know the quantity of calories I must limit myself to, daily, in order to lose weight. I have a decent understanding of my nutritional needs, and what the content of those calories must be. I want very much to be both healthier and more attractive, and I like it when my feet don’t hurt just from hiking a couple miles. I have the means to ensure my pantry has the type/quantity of basic ingredients needed to meet my needs day-to-day. I miss my goals when I fail to approach food and meals mindfully. It’s so easy to take my eye off good portion control simply by being casual about it, eye-balling something I’m ‘sure of’ now and then… which quickly becomes ‘so much easier  than’ measuring things all the time… which ends up with portions easily three times what I need to be healthy. The small mistakes add up in pounds. Damn it.

I dislike constant oversight, and living alone I don’t have any… but oversight is something that has value, if I am not willing or able to manage my life with that level of detail… so… can I do this, or do I need help? My brain says I can do this – and what woke me is how similar what needs to be done is to all the other tasks and processes I’ve worked to improve on over the last couple years. Mindfulness matters. It’s not even fancy or complicated – be here. Now. Show up. Be attentive. Be present. Enjoy the thing I am doing, in this moment I am doing it, awake and aware. Mindful. It’s the opposite of ‘mindless’ – it’s the opposite of ‘auto pilot’, and the opposite of ‘eye-balling something I’m sure of’. Mindfulness requires that I step through each routine, and handle each task, so entirely committed to it that those ‘I didn’t realize I…’ moments are minimized.  Before I go to far down this exciting garden path of feeling encouraged… It’s clearly not ‘easy’, or no one at all would need to have it pointed out, or would need to learn mindfulness, or practice it – we’d just do it!

I woke up realizing that a lot of what I struggle with in life would perhaps less difficult, less trying, less awkward, less painful, less embarrassing, less regrettable, less aggravating altogether if I were more mindful. It seems a given simply because at each opportunity to be more mindful on which I have been indeed more mindful, there has been a lot less struggle. Case in point; shortly after the new year, my new physician was fairly blunt that I need to take off some weight to overcome some of my pain management challenges. That’s pretty motivational… if that’s all it takes… right? Well, and for about 8 weeks I reliably lost 2-4 pounds a week, seemingly without real effort, by being very mindful about all matters related to food. Then… I got distracted, took my attention off the details, and gained some of that weight back. Again. Damn it. Fuck this gets frustrating. I went to bed last night being pretty hard on myself about it. I woke remembering very specifically that the emotions that surface through ‘being hard on myself’ about my weight quickly undermine my progress; depression wants calories, fancy soothing dessert-y calories. So does loneliness. So does yearning. Shit.

Practicing mindfulness with regard to food and eating allows me, as an emotional human primate, to feel what I am feeling, and continue to practice good practices. There are, as it happens, verbs involved. Yep – and my results vary. It’s why I’m still practicing – and probably always will be. It’s why I have to begin again. Again. 🙂

This? This is not a tale of failure – it’s just a few words over coffee about a common source of frustration in a very human experience, and what I will do about it, myself. It’s the doing that’s the real challenge, and it can be done. I’ve done it before. I’m eager to begin again, and I’m feeling fairly fearless about approaching the matter. I take a moment to appreciate that I know what needs to be done, and what works for me – that’s an excellent starting point on any journey.

An obstacle - or something to see along the way?

An obstacle – or something to see along the way?

The sun is up… Time to begin again. 🙂

 

The map is not the world. The plans I make are not the life I live. The calendar in front of me is more a… suggestion. I don’t tend to view it that way very often; my calendar seems so ‘real’ when I make plans. For example, today my calendar tells me that I’ve a date planned with my traveling partner, and that I am hanging out with friends tomorrow morning-ish, and grabbing lunch together. I am spending the weekend camping – my calendar says so, and I’ve the reservation number for my space and the address of the park right there in the event details. So… how is it that I’ve started today with this head cold that does not appear anywhere on my calendar, and is not accounted for in any of my planning? Seriously? It seems ages since I was last sick… why now?

I noticed my stuffy head when I woke up at 1 am, for no obvious reason. The room felt hot, and my mouth was very dry. At 3 am, I still hadn’t fallen back to sleep; my stuffy head was making me snore, and my own snoring was waking me every time I started to drift off. I got up and wandered around in the dark long enough to take preferred symptom-treating cold remedies, have a big class of water, and blow my nose. I slept some, woke again, slept a bit more, getting up for coffee at more or less my usual time…which I may not finish. I will probably go back to bed, whether I finish it or not. I make a point of putting boxes of tissues here and there, where they will be most convenient. I get all the cans of chicken soup from the pantry shelves, and stack them on the kitchen counter. I find the exertion tiring on a level that re-confirms that I am ill. Like a child or a puppy might, I sink to the floor where I am, there in the kitchen, ‘just for a minute’ because I feel woozy and weak for a moment; I doze off, head back against the cabinet door, feet stretched out, a bit like a rag doll left behind, forgotten. What a fragile vessel this is.

Camping will have to wait; being ill is best managed in comfort.

Camping will have to wait; being ill is best managed in comfort.

My snoring startled me awake, and I feel appreciative this time; had I slept in that position for any time, I’d likely h ave awakened with a crick in my neck that would have added additional pain to the experience of a common cold. lol I get off the floor. I take my coffee with me into the studio to cancel the camping reservation – someone else will want that great spot. It’s a good weekend for camping…or seemed so yesterday. Today I stare unenthusiastically out the window near my desk. I ache all over. I’m tired. I push through all that and message my partner; he’s not going to want to get sick, I’m pretty certain of that. I message my friends – I doubt they want to get sick either. My tinnitus is more engaging than birdsong this morning. My coffee seems flavorless, pointless, and uninteresting; I’ll make myself swallow it before I return to bed, to avoid the headache later if I don’t.

Why bother writing about being sick, though? We’ve all been there… It’s a thing we go through. Well… A.) Why not? B.) I started writing, so… I’m writing, and this is the experience I happen to be having.  And C.) It’s also a different experience of having a cold than used to be typical for me, which is unexpected. I don’t feel vaguely threatened, frightened of sleeping, vulnerable to attack, uneasy, anxious, or awash in wild uncontrolled emotions; these are experiences that once characterized being sick [for me]. I’m just sick with a head cold. Incremental change over time. Learning to take better care of the woman in the mirror, and this fragile vessel, making myself a high priority day-to-day, and treating myself generally well finds me defaulting to a very difference experience of being ill. No tantrums (so far). No inexplicable anxiety (so far). No giving in to poor self-care (so far). No lashing out unexpectedly at other people as if to blame them for the experience and inconvenience of being ill (so far). My health is better these days and improved overall self-care has resulted in many fewer experiences of being sick. I feel like crap today, and I’m irked to be faced with my weekend plans unraveling, but for now, I feel mostly pretty grown up about it. Nice change in experience.

I ache all over. Sitting up, writing, my head is less stuffy (oh, right – cold medication!)…but I ache, and sitting upright actually feels like… work. My coffee is cold enough to just drink, so I do. My head aches, and my ears are ringing (more than usual, some medications do that). I’ve no enthusiasm for birdsong this morning. Today is a good day to take better than usual care of this fragile vessel. I check the battery on my Kindle (although I know I am not actually going to read), and grab a box of tissues. Today I go back to bed; everything that isn’t taking care of me can wait, including camping, romantic evenings, and hanging out with friends.

I enjoyed an entire day of gentle stillness yesterday, no agenda beyond enjoying some chill time, no stress, no bother, no real ‘workload’. Much of the day was spent in meditation, seated on my cushion, or relaxing on the patio, watching the birds come and go, and listening to the sounds of the park in spring. No stress. Literally no stress. It is a remarkable feeling, and I’m glad I had the weekend away with my traveling partner to remind me what that feels like, so I would be prepared for it solo! There were some moments yesterday when my primate nature restlessly fussed in the background seeking some kind of escape from the peace of it; the chill time I had inflicted on myself requires as much discipline as any other effort. I resisted the call of social media, of favorite brain candy, of distractions by the dozens, and took the time I needed to really relax. There were still verbs involved. lol

I learned something over the minutes and hours of a wholly meditative day, yesterday; I need more time spent this way. I took a moment in the evening to reserve a favorite camp site in a favorite nearby(ish) state park with plenty of forest and good hiking trails – many that I’ve not yet hiked – for an upcoming weekend. Time out in the trees is very much the thing I need, without the constant temptations of distractions intruding in precious moments of stillness – mostly. All that remains is to coordinate the transportation details, get my gear together, and do a thorough gear check; it’s been more than a year since I last camped. Wow – so long? No wonder I am needing this time to refresh and recharge!

Number 23 is waiting for me...

Number 23 is waiting for me…

Life sometimes seems to get going so fast…the rushed hurried pace of planned events tangled up with the unexpected can become overwhelming without warning if I am not mindful of the potential. I’ve learned to limit how much I plan into any given day, even when I travel on vacation. I’m not the sort who makes detailed plans with a lengthy list of scenic landmarks to check off (Yep, seen it! Next!!), or noteworthy high-points identified by friends and associates that I feel compelled to similarly enjoy – that’s not my way. I do plenty of research on a destination (even this trip to the trees, in a park I am familiar with), and fill my thoughts with information about the opportunities, history, and scenic wonders – then I ‘wing it’. Once I’ve got a hotel reservation (or camping spot) the rest is surprisingly spontaneous, considering my fondness for planning. I don’t prefer ‘tour group style’ travel; I like to go and live.  Do I miss out on seeing that one fantastic whatever? Sometimes. Sometimes not. I rarely come home exhausted, irritated, or feeling vaguely let down, either, which is generally the outcome [for me] of traveling via landmark checklist. Your results may vary. 🙂

Another lovely spring-summer day ahead, a loose agenda (not quite a plan), and a smile on my face – it’s a good beginning, and a lovely morning to begin again.

Why yes, thank you, I shall.

Why yes, thank you, I shall.

Fatigue overtook me rather early yesterday, and unexpectedly. I didn’t think anything of it, and enjoyed a relaxed evening, and an early night. I woke around 2 am, feeling stuffy and too hot, although the apartment was a comfortable temperature. I woke again around 3 am, and again at 4:30 am, 5:30 am, 6:15 am… so it went, until I more or less got up for the day, sort of, around 8 am. The very human experience of being ill with assorted symptoms of gastrointestinal distress finds me feeling weak, out of sorts, tired, and that peculiar combination of being simultaneously hungry and averse to eating anything that so often accompanies this sort of illness. Blech. Being sick sucks. It will also pass. (My wiring being what it is, I find some solace in the humorous play on words involved in this particular sickness passing…)

I am sipping on this excellent cup of coffee very much aware that my enjoyment may be quite temporary… I try not to dwell on it, hoping to find that I am able to keep it down, and maybe have some food at some later point. Coffee is not the ideal choice nutritionally, of course, but the headache later if I don’t have at least some coffee now is a complication I’d like to avoid if I can. (This too fragile vessel protests my choice in the only fashion it can… I return to my writing afterward.)

I had plans for today… brunch with my traveling partner… laundry… housekeeping… gardening… yoga… cooking up a batch of chili in the slow cooker… beginning to empty my storage unit (the new place has sufficient storage room that I no longer need it)… but instead, today will be spent taking care of me, and treating this fragile vessel with some tenderness. I am already feeling inclined to return to bed, although I’ve been up only long enough to attempt morning coffee (unsuccessfully) and write these few words. My routines and practices are destroyed temporarily by illness. How very human. I find myself feeling very appreciative that I am not sick very often these days, and further… I am grateful my traveling partner isn’t staying here full-time right now, and is not at risk of picking this up from me, so long as I make a point of keeping my distance until it passes. (I start giggling – the joke just isn’t getting old…and the timing… oh yeah… I break from writing briefly with some urgency seemingly caused by laughing, and return afterward, symptoms eased for the moment.)

Frequent visitors to the feeders, now.

Frequent visitors to the feeders, now.

Today it’s cartoons, taking it easy, and making a point to drink plenty of water. No point taking illness at all personally, or allowing frustration to overtake me; I’ll be over this soon enough to get on with life. In the meantime, the red wing blackbirds have discovered the feeder at the edge of the patio, and South Park never gets old [for me]. It’s a Sunday, and even laundry can wait if it must (I find it a poor practice to handle all my clothes, or dishes, or touch all the cooking surfaces when I am sick). Today is a good day to slow things down, and take care of me.