Archives for category: Logic & Reason

(I began this post last night, on the train as I rode home…)

Today I hurt. I want to write meaningfully, thoughtfully, and there’s plenty going on in everyday life that is noteworthy, thought-provoking, or warrants further consideration, perspective, and critical thought…but I may not have what it takes, tonight.

I’m grateful for this broken brain. Well, less so for the damaged bits, but in general very grateful; it serves most brain sorts of purposes nicely, and although it lets me down on some basics most people take for granted, it wows me in some ways that few are fortunate to share. So… yeah. Grateful.  This amazing brain keeps right on going, thinking, wondering, analyzing, imagining… long past the point of fatigue.  The creative thing is awesome. Words are fun. Numbers, too. Emotions are also slowly becoming more of a playground than a trap, or betrayal.

Today I hurt. There are things to understand, and although they’ll wait if they must, it isn’t ideal. There are decisions, choices, opportunities, challenges… brain at the ready… but I hurt and I lose focus again and again with the pain.  I worry about my knees… even to extremes, wondering if the end of walking is on the horizon.  I take some deep breaths, I keep right on walking – slowly, with a cane – because if I wake up tomorrow unable to walk, I would surely regret not walking today.

Pain is such a personal thing. I don’t take many steps to ensure that people around me get it, really understand that I am hurting. I expect to be able to simple call it out once and have that be ‘enough’. That only works for strangers, though. People closer tend to forget in minutes or hours, because we’re having a good time, or because I’m in a good mood.  I can’t see letting the pain make the rules all the time.  I’ve learned something over the years, too; everyone hurts, and everyone’s pain is simply the worst they can imagine.  Pain is not a friend of cognition, and while I may be able to salvage a good mood out of a day of hurting, between the pain itself and the medication for it, my senses and my intellect are blunted. I generally work on as little medication as possible… and because it is work, and I am a professional, I don’t say much about it.  It seems weak to bitch (that’s my own baggage). I hurt, but I think better than if I were heavily medicated and didn’t hurt. lol. What a choice.

Choices. I know more about what I need over time, what I want – what I want, without regard to the desires of others, and in the context of my own values, my own needs, my own particular singular dream of a good life, based on sufficiency, contentment, and quiet joy. Getting there isn’t difficult because of the costliness of what I want and need, myself. Getting there is difficult because we human primates are as different one from another as we are similar, and I’m only just learning to set clear rational boundaries, and to observe and respect the boundaries of others.  It’s a new-ish thing for me to both have an awareness of what I really want/need in life – and also have a clear awareness of what is in my way.  (Which is predictably useful information to have, on both counts.) Newer still to be able to recognize, acknowledge, and even embrace what others want and need, and understand what I may be doing that could come across as ‘being in their way’.

I’m tired. I hurt. I want to write, and I urgently need to finish thinking some things through and make a clear choice and follow through on it.  Have you ever observed how much more difficult that can be when the choice that seems most obvious carries with it some short-term negative experience?  Choosing pain – even to experience profound positive changes – is difficult. I know pain hurts.  Pain is quite a deterrent.

If I were offered many millions of dollars – and in return I would have my back and arm broken, a skull fracture, my ankle shattered, and oh… migraines, perhaps – would I take the deal? I’m betting if I had experienced those pains it would be much harder to go for those millions, while if I had never experienced those sorts of pain, I likely would opt in for the cash pretty quickly.  I have not applied the scientific method to these musings, I’m just saying; it seems likely based on what I know of myself, and my human experience.

An uncompleted post. A night of uncomfortable sleep. The dawn of a new day.

An uncompleted post. A night of uncomfortable sleep. The dawn of a new day.

I finished the evening with yoga, meditation, and crafting a birthday gift for my mother, after dinner out with my partner, who is headed to NYC later this morning for a few days reconnecting with friends and family.  The meal was excellent and the service exceptional. What made the meal was definitely the company and the conversation. The remaining hours were spent gently; my knee just didn’t allow for more energetic recreation, and my evenings are usually chill time for study, writing, and quiet conversation, anyway.  The pain didn’t change those things.

I woke this morning, after a strange night of dreamless, but brief sleep. I didn’t really ‘get sleepy’ until far into the wee hours, and woke ahead of the alarm by 44 minutes. I don’t feel especially fatigued by the short night, and I’m hopeful that I’ll be alert and still feeling sufficiently rested to enjoy my other partner’s homecoming from the his wilderness adventure. I’m eager to hear about it. Eager to share my own experience.

Right at the moment, life feels very good – and it feels very genuine. It’s a feeling and a context in which I thrive.

Simple things matter so much.

Simple things matter so much.

Today is a good day to smile back, and a good day to be kind. Today is a good day to step boldly into the world, open to adventure. Today is a good day for love, compassion, and joy. Today is a good day to change the world.

Questions, answers, and a hot cup of coffee.  The morning is off to a sluggish and disorganized beginning; my routine is upended by a partner going off on a short holiday in the wilderness with family and friends; I got up much earlier than usual to make coffee, help load the car, and drop him at the rendezvous point. There’s a certain quality to arrivals and departures that seems to be unique to those occasions, and I didn’t hesitate to opt in to the early morning ritual of checking the packing, making sure nothing is missed, figured out what was missed, retrieving it, and eventually – kisses good-bye. It was chill and intimate time, connecting and holding on to a precious ‘now’ moment, savoring love and sharing the morning.

4:00 am is early.

4:00 am is early.

I’m very appreciative of my morning coffee. I slept poorly; sleeping only once everyone else had truly settled into slumber themselves, and waking earlier than I planned to by the restless stirrings of my partner, excited about the trip, and wakeful ahead of schedule. I figure I managed enough to survive the day more or less comfortably; about 3 hours. The coffee is a big deal this morning. I made 4 shots of espresso, in a cup, with a bit of molasses. Fancy was not necessary. lol

The Menopause Countdown continues, and I’ve never been more relieved than when I am watching my other partner struggle with Hormone Hell. I’m ready to be done with that. Yesterday was day 305… 60 days to go and I can officially say I’m ‘past menopause’.  Truth is, though, it’s been 305 days without screaming at everyone around me unexpectedly over bullshit approximately every 21-32 days.  Had I know how much more pleasant life would be without all that, I’d have asked to have my damned ovaries removed years ago!! I suppose that’s rather more than necessarily radical, but if you don’t have the experience, how do you know if I’m being too extreme? It is what it is, though, and what it is – for me – is almost over.

My other partner heads ‘back home’ this week, herself, to recharge with family and old friends back home.  It makes sense. She hasn’t been home in a while and the timing is good.

Spring, simple, and sufficient.

Spring, simple, and sufficient.

I don’t quite have that ‘back home’ attachment to a place. I miss old friends, and yearn for a good opportunity to travel and hang out and reconnect across the distance of years by closing the geographical distance, but this is a ‘taking care of me’ area I am not good at. It’s been about 11 years since I took a step on the other coast, where my family lives. I’ve never seen my niece – 13? 14? – in person*. I last saw my Mother at my Father’s memorial, more than a decade ago. Close old friends live far away, too, and it has been as long or longer since I’ve seen them.  It is time, too, for me to journey ‘back home’ to reconnect and recharge…but other needs are a higher priority, and I am learning to make choices that meet my long-term needs over time.  It’s a complicated puzzle. I know making time to connect with friends and family is important… I’m always eager to encourage my partners and dear ones to make time to see their far away friends and family, how is it that I suck so much at making the time to do it, myself?

I find myself looking at a different question in a moment of inspiration – “What is it about not making time for distant friends and family that seems to meet my current needs more than making that time would meet my needs?” Aha. I don’t have an answer – but that’s a new question. 🙂

Another perspective, a different question.

Another perspective, a different question.

So, a quiet Wednesday morning unfolding, a second cup of coffee, and plenty of time to meditate and simply be. It’s enough.

 

*So…my sister reached out during the day and observed with some amusement that not only have I met my niece in person, we hung out and she remembers it clearly; it was at my Dad’s memorial, so perhaps overlooking the embarrassing failure to recollect such a precious moment can be forgiven, but… yeah. Totally embarrassed, because of course I remember it as soon as I am reminded! Still human. 🙂

I enjoyed a lovely long weekend celebrating an anniversary. The time spent was intimate, connected, gentle, practical, thought-provoking, and delightfully chill.

In the grander scheme of things there are important questions to be answered. I’m generally not about answers as much as questions, and I suspect getting the questions ‘right’ – meaning that they are appropriately meaningful, and relevant, producing the potential for answers that hold… well… answers – is more important than the answers themselves may be, much of the time.

Importance isn't about size, grandeur, or what matters to someone else.

Importance isn’t about size, grandeur, or what matters to someone else.

In recent weeks I have asked myself some very insightful questions. I have asked others some questions that I expect have answers that hold within them the timeless moment of a decision-making nexus. Certainly, my own answers to some relevant questions have produced a better understanding of my experience and my relationships. I’ve had several moments recently that felt like Life scoring an important pop quiz; I generally feel like I’m at least getting a passing grade, much of the time.

Here it is the start of a new work week, filled with promise, the future on the horizon, and more minutes of potential future queued up to play out in life; converting experience to memories by way of now. There are verbs to apply to circumstances, and wishes to fulfill as plans to be carried out, and there is a better life to build. Choice is spectacular and I am feeling very hopeful; less about what is than what is open to possibility.

Finding balance is as much about choices and verbs as everything else.

Finding balance is as much about choices and verbs as everything else.

I read about the world’s oldest living man. The title-holder of record changes pretty regularly; it’s a position with a lot of turnover. I got to thinking about mortality and humanity, and how long it has taken me to get this close to being the person I want most to be… I rather like the idea that so many more potential years are available. I’m 51 this year; barely starting the ‘second half’. I’d love to be around for a third half… lol.

Time for some deep calming breaths, some meditation, and some verbs. Today is a good day for contentment and satisfaction. Today is a good day for joy. Today is a good day to smile and share a moment of life with others living it. Today is a good day to acknowledge what matters to me, and to be compassionate with others. Today is a good day to rethink old assumptions. Today is a good day to change the world.

Patterns occur pretty naturally, it’s the way repeatable, reproducible things work, perhaps.

The pattern of ripples in water.

The pattern of ripples in water.

I don’t know the math and science of patterns with the sort of detail that would be appropriate for a mathematician or scientist. I see patterns.

Patterns on a sandy beach.

Patterns on a sandy beach.

I see where patterns are broken.

Sometimes it's obvious.

Sometimes it’s obvious.

I’m a pattern analyst by trade, if I narrow down ‘data analysis’ to something more specific, although the sort of thing that I did in the 1980s manually with my brain and eyes is generally done by machines and programming today.

Patterns, and our innate human relationship with patterns and pattern recognition sometimes goes awry; we see patterns that aren’t actually patterns, by connecting unrelated events or experiences. Apophenia is a fancy word for seeing patterns in unrelated things. It’s a very human tendency.

Just in case you're sure you only see patterns that are 'real'... Are you seeing a face in this arrangement of circles and lines? Cuz... this image is not a face, just some circles and lines. :-)

Just in case you’re sure you only see patterns that are ‘real’… Are you seeing a face in this arrangement of circles and lines? Cuz… this image is not a face, just some circles and lines. 🙂

Sometimes patterns are obvious, with obvious causes. Sometimes patterns are quite subtle.  Created patterns and naturally occurring patterns both fascinate me.

Sunlight through blinds - natural? Created?

Sunlight through blinds – natural? Created?

It isn’t always easy to be utterly certain that a pattern is a pattern with patterns that are not visual, auditory, tactile, tabular, charted, or graphed – at least for me.  Emotional and behavioral patterns are much more difficult to be certain of, because the involvement of the observer in the observation is likely to be much higher, and the quality of the data, itself, much poorer.  The time I have spent studying patterns in my own emotional life (for example relative to the ebb and flow of hormones) has been worthwhile for my growth as a human being, but it is a slow process of observation, and error correction. Each observation checked and checked again for verifiable accuracy, examined from multiple alternate perspectives, or against other theories, and any easy or obvious seeming answer questioned to limit and hopefully avoid both bias and losing perspective or compassion for myself. It’s a complicated endeavor.  Before I began practicing mindfulness, it was a hopelessly fast route to frustrated rumination that really didn’t go anywhere.  Now, I’m rather pleased that it seems to fast-track improved long-term emotionally relevant decision-making about my life and behavior that has improved my everyday experience a lot.

There’s that ‘decision-making’ piece, though… Choice is a big part of living well. A lot of people actually choose to live less well than they could; choosing frustration over contentment, choosing wanting over enjoying, choosing righteous indignation over understanding, choosing to be stalled in their life and experience over choosing change. It’s very hard to watch.

Today is a good day to choose well. Today is a good day to be the change I wish to see in my world, and in my life. Today is a good day to choose love, and to choose pleasure. Today is a good day to invest enthusiastically in having a good experience. Today is a good day to change the world.

I woke feeling rested and serene, this morning. My shower felt refreshing. I meditated from a starting point of alert awareness and physical comfort. My morning yoga eased my stiffness, and my body felt graceful and strong. My coffee tasted warm and nurtured my heart while it warmed my hands, wrapped contentedly around the white porcelain mug. It was the beginning of a lovely spring morning.

The garden on a spring morning.

The garden on a spring morning.

Then I got to thinking, because I was writing (they sort of go together)… and within minutes I was irritated, discontent, frustrated, annoyed, saddened, and really just struggling with myself and my experience. It was all a reaction to the thoughts I was thinking, which although they were about something ‘real’, the thing they were about wasn’t going on in the moment, and isn’t even a for-real-for-sure factual understanding of circumstances. It was more like my brain was test-driving optional understandings of my experience, and that particular one was a rather poor fit.

Instead of the change of mood driving my day, today, I put myself on pause, and selected from my increasingly vast list of topic-relevant reading material a fairly short article that had really caught my attention just a couple of days ago. I took a few minutes to read, took some notes, followed up on a cross-reference, and now find myself feeling content once again, and in a comfortable emotional space to begin the work day. 😀

I don’t find the success quite a simple as ‘distracting myself’; it matters a great deal what I distract myself with. What has been effective is to pursue something intellectually or creatively engaging, that simply doesn’t allow room for the challenging or problematic thinking, because the new topic requires too much bandwidth. It is also necessary, for me, that the new topic or activity must be emotionally positive; neutral isn’t particularly effective, and things that stress or upset me definitely make things worse.

Mindfulness is part of this strategy, too. To move from the thing that is throwing me off-balance, to some new and engaging thing, I find that the best success is found in really giving my full attention, quite actively, to the new thing. I don’t know how to explain the difference, but it feels like a very different process than trying to disengage from the stressful or upsetting thinking.

The clock reminds me that words about work are not work; it’s time to go.