Archives for category: inspiration

“I’m no expert, but…”

I woke with those words in my head. Weird. I sip my coffee and consider them. It’s true. I’m not an expert. It’s not necessary to ask “at what”, because the answer will ideally be the same most every time; at whatever you’re asking about. I have more to learn. More to learn at my job. More to learn about great self-care. More to learn about love. More to learn about perspective. More to learn about being the very best human being I can practically be. More to learn about where my values will take me in life. More to learn about the consequences of my actions. More to learn about how my words affect others. More to learn about the world and other cultures. More to learn about letting go of attachment. More to learn about success. More to learn about balance. More to learn about “basic human decency”. More to learn about consideration. More languages, more math, more science, more philosophy, more… books to read.

There’s a lot to know, that I do not know.

I have more to learn. I am a student of life. Yep, still. I have practices to practice. Homework to do. A journey to take. A path to follow. It is seriously not in my best interests (nor is it my intention) to be aggressively certain, or to pursue “being right”; I’ll learn less if I take that approach, and omg there is so much to learn!

I have more questions than answers. I’m okay with this.

I remember a time in my life when I was rather more than a little bit arrogant about my intellect and my beauty. It did not serve me well, and let’s face it; beauty, most particularly, is a fleeting quality (not to mention, exceedingly subjective). As it turned out, there are tons of people both smarter and more educated than I am – and there definitely always will be, because there is soΒ much to know. There are also uncountable others who are lovelier, more beautiful, cuter, prettier, sexier, fitter, and/or more stunningly gorgeously photogenic than I will ever be – or ever was. This is just real. It’s not about being “down on myself”, I’m simply sharing something about perspective that I did eventually sort out, over time; there are vast numbers of people, and I will never meet them all, and still, there is someone, somewhere, regardless, who is better/faster/stronger/smarter/something-er than I was, am, or will become. This has to be entirely okay, or I will spend myself chasing skills, qualities and accolades, and lose precious perspective on just enjoying my life. πŸ™‚

I sip my morning coffee with a smile. I figured something out awhile ago; be humble. I’ve certainly seemed to be less insufferable, as a result. lol πŸ˜‰

It’s okay to choose change – to willfully make changes that nudge me in the direction of becoming the woman I most want to be. Better than okay; it feels pretty empowering to choose to live my life, my way. Being humble about life, about my mistakes, about my progress – about who I am, in the context of my experience – gives me the opportunity to learn more, to go farther, and to share the journey with more fellow travelers.

It’s time to begin again. Choose your path. πŸ™‚

 

I recently read a meme or a post or an observation somewhere to the effect that we “don’t owe” “basic human decency” to [insert preferred list of “bad people” here]. I found myself astonished that “basic human decency” is so often seen as something we provide on a limited basis, and only to specific qualifying individuals. Then I laughed. Then I felt incredibly saddened. Seriously? “Basic human decency” is something to aspire to because we are human – and decent. It’s a literal baseline for decency; the minimum we offer, because “decent” is a human quality we cultivate. We provide that experience because it is characteristic of who we are. Portioning it out to just those who are adequately deserving suggests to me a fundamental lack of actual decency, altogether. Just saying.

I’m not pointing any fingers. Been there. I’ve been in that place where I was so angry (generally) and so wounded (emotionally), that behaving with any sort of decency seemed… unfair, or unreasonable, or… well… I wasn’t gonna do that. :-\ I did not understand at all that it was not about whether that person was “deserving” of decency – it was always about whether I was sufficiently developed as an adult human being to be capable of decency in those circumstances. It said more about me as a human being than anyone else. It’s very much the sort of puzzle that kept pulling my focus back onto me, when I started down this path – what I am capable of? What I can learn? What I can do to change myself? I have so little ability to change the world, or any one individual, and so much opportunity to become the woman, the person, the human being I most want to be. At this point, I could describe it as my life’s work. (I find it hard to accurately describe how far I have actually come as a person, and how far I recognize that I still have to go.)

My housekeeping? Not perfect. I’m prone to untidiness, but thrive within the context of a lifestyle that is very orderly, well-kept, and managed on a calendar. I have to work at order. I do. There are tons of verbs involved and my results vary.

My self-care? Hit or miss under stress, but generally pretty good these days, otherwise. I work at that, too. It’s a very human experience. More verbs. More practices. I begin again every single day.

My sanity? Mostly fairly well-managed these days. I do what it takes. I see my therapist when that is the needful thing. In years that I’ve been medicated, I’ve stayed the course on my medication(s) and taken prescriptions as directed as much as my memory (and coping skills) allow. I’ve made a point of getting off of medications that were doing me harm. I practice good practices, and I no longer punish myself for my very humanity. I’d say I’m generally sane, mostly fairly rational, and entirely willing recognize my mistakes, whenever that comes up (often). πŸ™‚

My ability to be a basically decent human being? Pretty good, generally, with some misses here or there when I’m not entirely myself, or during some moment of severe stress, illness, or in the throes of misadventure. It’s a work in progress, frankly, I’d like to be more reliably wholly a basically decent human being, as a reliable default setting. I continue to work at that, because from my perspective on life, now, it seems the literal least I can do for the world… which make it sort of obligatory to at least give it a shot, and to really practice it until I am quite skilled. πŸ™‚

My experience is my own. Same for yours. When we make wise choices that are appropriate to our circumstances, we tend to enjoy our experience a bit more. When we practice, and demonstrate, human decency, we are decent humans – something to aspire to, right there. The world would most definitely benefit from having a higher percentage of basically decent human beings. Life gives us opportunities to change, to grown, to learn, to practice – and we become what we practice.

Today is a good day to practice some “basic human decency” – certainly it is worth being good at that. It’s not about whether you deserve my basic human decency, though, is it? It’s about whether I do. (I definitely do.) πŸ˜‰

Yep, this is not the greatest post in the world, this is just a tribute. lol It’s true.

Last night, just as I drifted off to sleep, I composed, in my head, an awesome blog post. I’m giggling over my coffee this morning, because I now only remember how satisfied I was with the topic, the themes, the use of language, the word play – I even felt it was wholly relevant, and also had some great ideas for images from my photos that really seemed to highlight the point I was making. Blam! Perfect writing! Or… something. No idea now; there is no opportunity to review it, to edit it, to publish it; it was only a dream. lol

Today is a new day. Tributes aside, there is more life to live, more experiences ahead to have, further to go on this path. The weekend was satisfying and delightful. I have one lone insect bite of some kind, on my wrist. It’s strange placement considering what I was wearing, and where I was staying, so I am thinking more likely a spider bite than any other. It itches – and reminds me of the weekend each time I notice it. I just end up smiling. Strangest damned insect bite. πŸ™‚

The air quality is poor (still? again? both, sadly) and it is affecting my breathing, which sucks. It’s worse for other more vulnerable people. I make room for perspective. I use it as a springboard to be kind to people who are suffering in the heat and shitty air quality. (What else is it for?) The work week begins anew.

It’s a good day to take a moment for perspective and for kindness. It’s a good day to take the energy of the weekend and roll into the weekend refreshed and ready to go, ready to organize what needs to be done and get on it. There’s always more to do. What can I add to the things I am doing that has a chance to benefit the world beyond my own doorway? What can I do right here at home to improve my quality of life, and the quality of life my family enjoys, generally? How I can best be the human being I most want to be? What steps can I take to recognize my privilege and see past my own biases? (There will be verbs involved, for sure.)

I’m ready to begin again. πŸ™‚

The weekend is here. Generally, on a “go-come-back” sort of weekend, I’ve been facing the drive, itself, sort of grimly. Once upon a time, I loved driving. A collision many years ago took some of the shine off of driving, but eventually, many years later, I regained much of my enthusiasm for it, but… trauma re-wires the brain. Well, shit. Damn… that’s… complicated. Now, although I do enjoy driving, I am also (perhaps excessively) wary of my fellow humans behind the wheel. Frustration, resentment, rage – these are all human emotions that can commonly be “weaponized” with the addition of a bit of entitlement, or some assumptions, or a certain sense of righteousness. It’s scary out there on the freeway. Humans are driving cars. :-\

Today feels different. Although the car I’ve been driving is quite a nice one, in great condition, with lots of power and and maneuverability, I often felt it was utterly necessary to have all that at my disposal simply to survive the highway in the first place. I admit that most of the time I drive, I feel it; my life is at risk just performing the task of driving, on the American roadway. That’s pretty shitty. The car, as nice as it is, tended to contribute to the feeling, rather than easing it, although I don’t know why. It’s possibly “just all in my head”, because, again with the frankness, much of our experience of our lives is. (Get over that. It’s a true thing. Learn to work with it, rather than fighting it.)

Today feels different, in part, I suspect, because this new car in my driveway is a better fit for me as a driver, for a number of totally practical reasons (starting with the smaller size of the vehicle generally). It’s also… mine. It feels like a different experience – because it is a different experience. πŸ™‚

There’s a lot to enjoy about newness, difference, and novelty. It’s exciting. It’s energizing. It’s cognitively refreshing. It’s distracting (from things like pain and anxiety). I’m smiling and eagerly gulping down my coffee so I can get on the road… it’s just now 4:30 am. LOL No dilly-dallying!! I’ve got miles to cover! πŸ˜€

I’ve no idea what the weekend holds, but it is ahead of me, and it’s time to begin again. Let’s see where this road leads. Zoom-zoom!

Change takes time. I mean, obviously when change is forced on us, some parts of change and changing, and certainly the requirement to do so, can hit us with real force in a very immediate way, no doubt about that. What I am pointing out is more that the skillful adaptation to change takes time. I roll with my changes as skillfully as I am able to, in the moment, but it does definitely take me some time to “get used to the new normal”. The experience of “change taking longer to get used to” is something I recognize as part of my TBI and the day-to-day realities of dealing with it, but it is also an experience most people likely have to one degree or another.

When I moved from the smaller apartment (#27) to the larger one right on the edge of the park (#59), the very specifically mirror-imaged kitchen messed with my head for months; I just kept clawing at the wrong side of the doorway for that damned light switch. It was the better part of a year before my brain finished making that change. Even with practice, some things change really slowly.

There’s a different car in my driveway this morning than there was 10 days ago. I was only getting started on getting used to commuting on transit, again. This morning, it’s back to commuting by car, but the car is different. This is no small thing, but it’s also no big deal. It’s both noteworthy and inconsequential. It likely will be somewhat different; the car handles quite differently. Sounds different. Feels different. Surrounds me differently. There are different features to learn. Different placement of some things, compared to the car I’ve been driving. Some things feel more natural than in the sedan. Other things feel quite strangely placed, as though the manufacturer “doesn’t know me at all”. (It’s mostly more comfortable and familiar-seeming than less, though, which is nice.) The new car is a first for me with this manufacturer, actually. A Mazda. Funny how much difference small changes make. They add up, too. It means driving very mindfully is a thing I need to make a point of for some time to come. I can’t really rely too heavily on implicit memory right now; I have none that applies to this vehicle. lol

One very telling thing? I regularly catch myself humming an old Queen song, “I’m In Love With My Car“,Β  when I am thinking about this car. lol It’s been awhile since I had a car that I felt that way about, myself. πŸ™‚ I’m almost excited to drive to work today. For me, with the injury I have, that also means being very mindful and present is a huge thing, especially the first few weeks driving this car; it’s my one way to keep excitement from resulting in inattention or poor judgement, which can be a common enough result of being overly eager or excited about something, for me.Β  I’m definitely excited to be driving it. So… a good choice of vehicle? πŸ™‚ I mean… it’s not a powerful luxury sedan (they tend to be a bit outside my comfort zone, and always feel sort of… huge), nor is it a fantastical beautiful sports car sort of machine (which, I’ll admit, I adore on this whole other level, but the driving of which bring out personality traits I don’t find are my best)…but, it’s every bit of the machine I find myself wanting most, day-to-day: nimble, quick, and capable of going where I want to go. I smile when I see it there in the driveway.

Some of the fun in life is about change. Every change is a new beginning. A “do over”. An opportunity to become more the person I most want to be. πŸ™‚ I’m so glad I’m getting over this head cold, too; it’s already time to begin again. πŸ™‚