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Written But Not Previously Published

April 13, 2019 //
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In December, 2015, shortly after I moved out from a shared living arrangement with my partners at the time (one of those being my “forever Love”, my Traveling Partner), I wrote the post below, which somehow I never published. No idea why now, seems a perfectly adequate bit of writing. Considering I would have likely been reluctant to cause drama for him with careless words, it may have been the concern that she might still be reading my blog had caused me a moment of doubt, some second thoughts, and into the Draft heap it went. Looking for a shortcut, or a way to jump start my thoughts, this morning, I found it, and read it with “new eyes”. 🙂

It Ain’t Me, Babe (December, 20th, 2015)

I spent much of the day in the company of my traveling partner. We had a great time, generally speaking, although he arrived burdened by hurt, and the OPD [Other People’s Drama] of his other, rather difficult, relationship. My place is a drama-free zone, and I welcomed him in with open arms when I opened the door on his unexpected knock. We watched cartoons – appropriate for a Sunday morning, I think – drank coffee, shared laughs, and lingered long in the warmth of cherished company. Lunch came and went. Eventually, when the gloom of evening suggested it might make an appearance some time soon, my partner went on ‘home’ – that physical space where he is currently sleeping at night.

I spent time contemplating things he said, the emotional content of his experience, and his distress. I thought back on moving here to Number 27 in May, and the heavy burden weighing me down thinking so much of what we were all going through was some how ‘my fault’ – that my chaos and damage ‘is too much’ for any relationship to endure. I put myself through a lot over it. Perspective being what it is, so much of that, then, didn’t actually have that much to do with me at all. It’s more obvious now. It’s a lot more obvious right now.

I continue practicing good practices, learning to love well, and incrementally over time I am becoming the woman I most want to be. It turns out, as things so often do, that I wasn’t ‘the bad guy’ in the complicated tangle of … yeah… all of that. And then some. I wasn’t ‘the guilty party’, or some sinister figure, I wasn’t even the charming antagonist of the tale, the one that you know is entirely wholly in the wrong but just so damned charming. I was – and am – just a person. A human being, subject to emotional volatility and misjudgment, prone to taking things personally and hurt feelings, and able to leap to tall conclusions with no data at all – all very true. Looking back on that living arrangement then, from the perspective of ‘right now’ – yeah. That? That wasn’t about me at all, not even a little bit. We were each having our own experience. We continue to do so, now.

It’s hard to watch human beings struggle, even from a distance, and especially when it’s someone dear. Like a commuter stuck in traffic worsened by an accident up ahead, I am torn between compassionate concern for the injured and my own experience of being inconvenienced along my way; in this case, the drama seems precisely timed to interfere with a lovely joyful holiday in the company of my dear love. It’s pretty hard to avoid taking it personally – but I am stopped in my tracks immediately, being far more concerned about my partner’s safety and well-being; caring for the hearts of real people and treating each other well on life’s journey is more important than any perceived destination, or any planned outcome.

I take a moment to also observe that my partner’s stress today and the particulars of his difficult circumstances didn’t set off my PTSD – that’s a small handful of words to describe something of great personal importance. It’s actually a pretty big deal to sit here, concerned about my partner and a bit worried, but also able to have that experience without being torn apart by my emotions, or so overwhelmed I can’t function or make use of reason. Neither agitated nor immobilized, I am simply aware. Incremental change over time is a thing. 🙂

I take some deep breaths, and make some time to let it all go for a while to meditate. I am okay right now. That matters. I am so much more able to provide a partner with the emotional support needed, when I am taking good care of myself… And there’s one thing I don’t know right now; I don’t know what comes next on this complicated journey, or how much of my strength will be needed on a moment’s notice. I’m ready with what I’ve got. It’s no small thing; it’s enough.

I’m feeling pretty fortunate this morning, and definitely wrapped in enduring love. It isn’t always the easy choice to walk away from a bad situation – for anyone. We cling to what we know. We cling to our illusion of Love, fearful that it may be all there really is. We cling to a promise in the face of our awareness of how human we are, ourselves. We cling to the thinnest hope – because the unknown, the real, and the unscripted outcomes of our own free will can be terrifyingly uncertain, and omg we do love certainty so very much. lol

I have 3 “X’s” – relationships so wrong for me, that there was actual danger to my life, health, safety, and emotional well-being. I am grateful that I walked away from each one, with as little damage as I did choose to endure. I phrase it that way because I did indeed make choices. Each subsequent poor relationship appeared promising at some point… each one also boasted huge red flags and “warning signs” that were more like full sized air raid sirens placed as ear muffs. I chose to look at the promises and ignore the klaxons, which is sort of odd, considering our minds are generally wired to avoid threats and danger, when recognized. It took me awhile to realize I needed to walk away.

“It wasn’t all bad…” my memory attempts to reflect on the best times in those relationships. Of course it wasn’t “all bad” – that’s why it was difficult. Nonetheless, 5 minutes of good times don’t balance the scales when what is on the other side are broken bones, a broken mind, or a broken heart. Just saying. One apology after another doesn’t change the behavior that created the need to make the apology.

I sip my coffee, considering all of it; a river of life and choices, a walking path, a journey that stretches behind me – I have come so far! The path leads ahead, too, and I don’t know what is beyond the next bend. Another challenge, surely. I hear my Traveling Partner’s soft breathing in the other room. We share space easily, and speak of contentment and joy together. It’s a nice life. It’s very early, now. I am awake, writing, drinking coffee, and he sleeps. We have our own ways, and don’t mind that about each other; where our hours and presence overlap, we exist in shared time and space. Where we wander from each other, we do what we do, and return home to share a traveler’s tales, and make merry. I silently wish him well in our safe haven, our wee corner of the world, and I wish him pleasant dreams of being ever wrapped in Love. I smile, sip my coffee feeling safe, and content.

Another day begins, and with it, I also begin again. 🙂

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Categories Anxiety, Brain Injury, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being, The Big 5, War and News of War, women, Words

Do It Because It Matters

March 30, 2019 //
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It’s a lovely morning, so far. The sun isn’t yet up, and there’s a bit of mist in the trees beyond the deck. My coffee is hot, and satisfying. I feel pretty good, generally, and aside from some stiffness, and awareness of mild discomfort here and there, even my pain level is pretty low. An excellent start to a Saturday – and brunch a bit later. 🙂

I’m thinking a bit about the funhouse mirror of social media, and the way it turns so many people into emotionally demanding narcissists unable to support themselves through emotionally self-sufficient practices day-to-day. Leaving Facebook is eye-opening. I’ve stopped using it, and expect, today, to finish off the last of the data entry into my contacts list, then move on with deleting my account.

…Hell, I already have the page open to the “delete my account” action, ready for me to click it. (One last click for ya, Facebook. lol)…

One of the nicest things so far, about leaving Facebook I mean, is the increase in authenticity in my affected relationships. Already. I like that. Sure, it’s more effort to “stay in touch” – but if the only “staying in touch” we’re doing is eavesdropping on each other’s lives from a distance, lol’ing at memes, and amplifying each other’s outrage… are we really “in touch” with each other, at all? How much slower is the progress toward any personal goal, or our journey to be our best self, if we’re constantly seeking – or waiting for – likes, clicks, and views along the way. Very distracting. I just… can’t. Too much I’d still like to see, do, achieve, complete, stumble on, enjoy, share in real life, savor without comment, and reflect upon without further input, honestly, and when all that is added to the mish-mash of bullshit, misinformation, racism, sexism, trolling, data-mining, and drama that Facebook has been built upon… omg. So over it.

So. Here I sit. Realizing, in this moment, that I’ve already downloaded the historical content I wanted to save – all the conversations I’ve had with friends over this past 10 years, inclusive of all the contact updates – I’m ready. Ready to end this toxic relationship and move on with my life. 😀 No last good-bye. No final statement as I depart. No dramatic exit. Just a Saturday morning, a cup of coffee, and a couple of mouse clicks. 🙂 Easy.

…And just like that, Facebook has no power over me. 🙂 Nice.

This one is a new beginning (and then some), but also an allegory and a metaphor; do what matters most for you. Make your choices wisely, using wisdom you have acquired in years of living. Consult when you must – but living ones life is not a matter of consensus, likes, clicks, or trending views. Being present in the moment may not be the instantly gratifying shot in the brain chemistry that having all your friends (and a bunch of strangers) comment favorably on a post on social media may be… but it’s tangible, and authentic. It’s real. It’s also a choice, and I’m making mine. Doesn’t have to be yours; we each walk our own path. Mine diverges from Facebook, right here. 🙂 There are a lot of reasons why, really, the largest of which is that although my friends add to my experience, Facebook twists that, and then adds a layer of toxic cognitive goo, and then a shitload of advertising. lol I am all about saying “no” to that.

I’ve got a hearty and well-filled contact list full of friends of many years, some old, and some new. I’ve got addresses, email addresses, phone numbers, a calendar… and the time with which to begin again. 🙂

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Categories Allegories, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, Logic & Reason, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, Spring, The Art of Being, The Big 5

Are You Ready?

March 29, 2019 //
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I woke drenched in sweat. Unexpected. It was early. I got up and made coffee with shaking hands, disturbed by… what? Nothing much, I guess. Brain working over time. Short day in the office, today. It’s not really “time off”; I’ve got a medical appointment. Is that stressing me out? I sip my coffee and wonder. I take time for me.

It’s such a human experience being this creature of emotion and reason wrapped in this strangely fragile meat sack. lol My coffee tastes good. My body feels uncomfortable, otherwise. It is what it is. Fuck. At least I got some sleep.

I enjoy the companionship and presence of my Traveling Partner on a most peculiar level. Always have. He’s my friend. My love. My buddy. My partner. The one person I reliably enjoy being around, at my best, at my worst, when I’m ill, when I’m feeling restless; this is a human being with whom I fully enjoy living life. Perfection isn’t a thing – it’s more about how complementary our individual challenges are. We understand and respect each other. We have shared values. We lift each other up. We demand our best from each other – so gently and with such kindness that it doesn’t feel like a demand, at all. It’s nice. I sit and sip my coffee thinking about how fortunate I am to enjoy this relationship, with this person. No particular reason to mention any of it; I’m just sipping coffee and feeling loved. 🙂 It’s a pleasant start to the morning, after a rather emotionally rude awakening. 🙂

Working, living.

The work experience is interesting. I am an engine, firing on all cylinders, accelerating from a definite starting point, with a destination in mind. How long will that last? Sleep and self-care are important. So important. Sometimes love and life feel like a distraction from the energy needed to fuel the work. It’s odd that this is so; don’t I also need the sleep and the self-care? Rhetorical. I know I do.

We make strange mistakes in our thinking, as human creatures. We try to run from our emotions by taking drugs or practicing all many of escape tactics, even though our emotions indisputably go everywhere with us. We conflate satisfaction with our professional lives with enjoying our actual lives. We confuse marriage with love. We adopt convictions and beliefs without examining their basis in fact, then cling to them as if they are going to save us, even when we are shown clear evidence that they are bunk. What strange creatures we are!

I sip my coffee. I think about work. I think about love. I think about life. Then I notice I am thinking, and set my thinking aside to simply drink coffee for a moment, just being. The cup, mostly empty now, is still quite warm in my hands. I feel the subtle warmth rise from the contents within, though it has cooled too much for steam to rise. I taste the dark warm liquid; earthy, with hints of chocolate, of forest, of morning. I breathe. Relax.

My waking moment was difficult, and disorienting. In spite of that, the morning goes well. It feels like a gift to be so easily able to bounce back. It is, more accurately, the win that follows commitment to self-care, a reliable meditation practice, and the result of rather a lot of work specifically done to get this (or similar) result… and a lot of restarts, do-overs, and new beginnings. 🙂 Worth it.

My coffee is gone. It’s time to begin again. 🙂

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Categories Anxiety, Brain Injury, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Spring, The Art of Being

Down Time

March 11, 2019 //
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Sipping my coffee, scrolling through my feeds, reading the posts of friends dropped into this app or that one, during the night. There is content that troubles me, and I see a lot of it; people posting vague remarks that are self-critical, negative, and on a hopeless sort of downer that shrieks of depression, self-loathing, and… a regrettable lack of understanding that there are, still, and yes, even if they are deeply depressed, some choices involved. Harsh. Why the ever-loving-fuck would someone repeatedly post this sort of quagmire of terribly self-contempt-filled morsels on which to feed themselves? Horrifying.

I don’t have to look too far in the past to “get it”. I only “don’t get it”, now. It’s one major drawback, for me, of healing and forward momentum; it can be hard to understand, or identify with, those past challenges. I guess I’m grateful for that, generally, but when I want to offer comfort, or suggest there is another way, I wish I were more easily able to do so. How do I tell someone in such circumstances “that’s just your opinion of yourself, and only for right now, and holy crap – did you know you can change that??”… when it is their own heartfelt convictions, and deepest terror, about themselves, that I’d be seeking to challenge? I mean, I can say words. Words I’ve got – lots of them – but, generally, these friends are not listening to those words. They hear the words they say, themselves, about the self they so loathe. Anything I could (and often do) say is drowned out in the din.

…It can be heartbreaking to scroll past egregious thinking errors that recognizably mire dear ones in misery. We each can only do so much. If a feeding frenzy of corrections, positivity, love, and encouragement, in response to such posts does nothing to bandage a wounded heart… what can? Well… being present helps. Listening deeply helps. Constancy and steady patient friendship helps. Eventually, though, it’s down to that person and those feelings. …And the verbs…? Yep. No surprise; they’ve got to do the verbs, themselves. No one else can actually undertake to do the work to feel better, aside from the person having the shitty experience – particularly if that shitty experience is one they’ve willfully crafted for themselves and reinforced over time.

Well… shit. That sucks. I’d love to be able to reach out a hand to a friend and take their pain away. Generally, it does not work like that. If I cling to them, wrapping myself up in their pain, eventually some may even sap my strength for living my own life, and caring for my own heart – and not out of malice, just done in a way not so dissimilar to someone overboard grabbing for a life vest or flotation device and just holding on desperately. So, I focus on self-care, and listening deeply, and sharing the journey, and “being there” – but I also work to set skillful boundaries, to be there for my own self, reliably, and to avoid getting sucked into drama. I do what I can to encourage friends who are suffering to choose less suffering, if they are able to. I still feel sad when I watch them choose suffering again and again, in a way that appears crafted and willful. My heart aches for them; I’m pretty sure that if they were able to really understand how much suffering they specifically choose, foster, nurture, and feed, they would also understand they could choose differently.

…I couldn’t treat myself differently until I both understood that such a thing were possible, and – but? – also not until I was ready to see myself differently, and as worthy of better treatment from myself. Harsh – but the truth of it is that I can’t walk that mile for anyone else. I can only suggest that there is such a path available to be walked.

It was a lovely quiet weekend, spent in the gentle good company of my traveling partner. Some snow fell. Some rain fell. Movies were watched. Content was shared – as was contentment. It was warm and connected and close. It feels good to share the company of such good companions: my Traveling Partner… and the woman in the mirror. It feels good to be in a place in life where my own good company is precious to me. I finish my coffee, wondering what words it takes to suggest to the worn down, forlorn, depressed, or anxious, that they, too, have this amazing relationship near at hand…? That perhaps the answer to the question “when will I find someone?” could be found in their mirror, right now?

The coffee is finished. It’s time to begin again. 🙂

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Categories Allegories, anhedonia, Anxiety, Brain Injury, Despair, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, Logic & Reason, loneliness, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, The Art of Being, The Big 5, Words

Adapt, Adjust, and Change

March 7, 2019 //
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I’m still getting used to living with my Traveling Partner again. I apparently forget to write… a lot. LOL Well… there’s some good writing archived here, in older posts, and a lovely reading list… I figure we’re good here, and the occasional miss isn’t likely to cause me (or, realistically, you) any real harm. 😉 I’m still adapting old routines into new routines. Still adjusting to small changes and differences in my day-to-day experience that are part of the new normal. Change is still a thing, and amusingly, remains a constant I can count on. 😀

Most mornings on which I leave for work without writing, I do so promising myself I’ll maybe write on my lunch break, or perhaps after work… then I work through my “lunch break”, head home, and spend a lovely intimate connected evening of partnership, love, and joy, and forget all about it. I wake, notice I didn’t write, and overlook it again. lol I smirk at myself and sip my coffee; it takes me some time.

The city. The snow falling.

I left work early, yesterday, and finished the day from home. It was snowing pretty steadily.

The view from home, still snowing.

It snowed yesterday, all day and into the evening. It didn’t start sticking until later in the afternoon, and although it snowed rather a lot, and the flakes stuck, some, there’s very little cause for concern this morning, and the road in front of my house is only wet, not icy or covered in snow. I could work from home… but it doesn’t seem necessary at all. I sip my coffee and consider which makes more sense today… It’s very nice to have that choice. I take a moment to appreciate that, and seek to begin the day with gratitude.

Ups, downs, complicated plot twists, choices, actions, consequences, circumstances; all of it seems to require the same things of me. All of it requires that I adapt, that I adjust, and that I change – or make changes. Living life is very much about the verbs; there is effort involved, even in refraining from making an effort. There are choices involved, even in refusing to choose. We change, whether we choose change, or whether change chooses us.

I pause my writing, finish my coffee, and meditate. I return to the writing.

I woke ahead of the alarm, and got up expecting it to be a work from home day, but… it doesn’t really look like that’s necessary at all. 🙂 I like the downtown location of my new job, and enjoying a couple hours surrounded by the urban buzz of downtown activity is still enjoyable, for now. The views from the 9th floor windows are still enticing. The convenience of the location still exciting. Besides… the views! Yesterday I began taking advantage of close-to-work parking on the other side of the river (less costly, still provides the convenience of having a shorter commute, puts a lovely walk into my commute) by walking from the parking location, over the bridge, and through the downtown business blocks to the office. It’s not a long walk, less than a mile, actually, and quite pleasant. The distance isn’t a goal, or a limitation, it’s only an observation. 🙂 I find myself noticing I am eager to repeat that experience, and hopeful that the walkway across the bridge is not icy. Eagerness? Huh…

…Eagerness, specifically, is one of the first things I lose in life, when I am depressed, or unhappy, or stricken with anhedonia or ennui, and even when I am stressed out, or overwhelmed, or feeling weighed down with obligations, deadlines, and responsibilities. Eagerness may be a signpost of emotional wellness, for me… I had not previously considered that… had I? I sit with that for a few moments, and decide to make the commute into the office, for the pleasure of enjoying the walk. 🙂 The morning feels mild, when I step outside to reality check my notion against the real-life feel of the morning.

I’m eager to begin again. 🙂

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Categories Brain Injury, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, Logic & Reason, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, The Art of Being
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