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This One’s for a Friend

September 29, 2016 //
3

This morning I woke up thinking about a far away friend going through a bad bit. She spoke of fear,and she spoke of feeling mistreated, and she spoke of love, and when she spoke her narrative reminded me of dark times of my own, in past relationships. She’s well-loved, and has many friends. I know there are days she doubts it. I hear her heartbreak, now, reflected in many inconsequential things. I remember mine.

Attachment is a tangled bit of nastiness. I held on, fearful, for so many years in two very long (bad) relationships, and later, a one nearly as vile as the first, that I had the limited strength and fragile-best-effort wisdom to walk away from before I’d exhausted 3 years. (I pause to acknowledge the progress implied there, without being overly hard on myself about the slow learning curve.) I’m very human, love matters so much – and it’s peculiarly difficult to sort out the professed-love-that-isn’t-love-at-all from Love.

I held on because I was afraid. I was afraid to “lose everything” – without actually defining with clarity what it was I thought I was actually holding onto. I apologized when I was victimized, hurt, injured, mistreated, manipulated, and “managed” through cruelty and the withholding of affection. I turned my anger on myself, believing that I had in some fashion “deserved” this treatment – I mean, hey, hadn’t I… something? Didn’t I do… something? No, it wasn’t ever about me, but it took a really long time to figure that out. I needed help with that, too. It was a grim and lonely journey through a lot of chaos and damage.

Rare is that good friend who will look another in the eye and gently say “please take care of yourself, I’m worried about your safety” and “no, actually, I don’t think you deserved that, and I don’t think it’s a given that because your partner says they love you that this gives them a free pass to be cruel, demanding, irrational, violent, mean, confrontational, deceitful, hateful, exploitative…” (or any of the many dozens of other ways human primates can be cruel to one another). Sometimes it’s hard to find the words. Other times we wonder “is it our place”? (It is.) Perhaps we’re not sure about the circumstances, so choose to “stay out of it” rather than be mistaken. Maybe we don’t think it’s “that bad”, or it mirrors our own circumstances and forces us to look to closely into the mirror. It matters that we give voice to our concerns, though; our hurting friends, frightened friends, isolated friends, hell – all our friends need our voices in their moment of darkness, need to know we care, and that they matter – to someone.

You matter. I hope you are reading this over your coffee, or your tea, and that you take just one moment to set aside the hurting and the fear, and accept this one thing, right now; this too will pass. It’s okay to let go of the attachment, and look your worst care scenario right in the face; your thoughts have no substance that you don’t give them. They are free for the taking, to enjoy when they delight us, to educate us about our suffering when they are less delightful. Let your fears unfold their educational narrative in your thoughts, and breathe. Trust your good heart. Take care of you – because you matter. If things are okay right now, take time to just sink into that moment, and enjoy being okay right now. Breathe. Relax. Sip your coffee (tea?). Take a moment for you. This moment. Now. The moment you’ve got – the only moment you’ve really got. Be present for it. (The way out is through.) 🙂

Thank you being a friend. Thank you for listening when I’ve needed to talk. Thank you for sharing your own heartfelt words in a moment of fear and pain, and connecting across miles and years through our common experience as human beings. Emotion and reason. It’s not either or, and can’t be. 😉 I hear you. Other friends hear you. You are heard. You are loved. ❤

One new day, approximately infinite possibilities.

One new day, approximately infinite possibilities.

Today is a good day to begin again. Today is a good day for a journey – a solo hike through life, if you will. There is no map. You’ll be your own cartographer. There will be obstacles, challenges, and life’s curriculum is a stern teacher on some icy mornings of the heart. You’ll probably make some bad choices along the way, or get caught out in emotional inclement weather without an umbrella. There may feel like there are more bad times than good – even when data, real data, would suggest it could be otherwise. It’s a worthy journey, nonetheless, and well… frankly… you have the choice to take it willfully or to drift, but you must make the journey to the conclusion that it offers, or choose another – but the journey is itself is not optional. (You do get to choose your gear.) Ready? It’s time to walk on, Friend. ❤

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Categories Anxiety, Free Will, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, solo hiking, The Art of Being, The Big 5, women

It’s That Easy

September 23, 2016 //
0

It’s amusing to me, this morning, that it took the better part of six months to stop reliably waking up before 5 am, even without my alarm set. One week of work, and this morning is a day off… and I comfortably and easily wake precisely at 5 am. No alarm. I could be sleeping in… only… I am no longer sleeping.

dododo

It’s always “now”, and the day begins.

An unreliable rain is falling. I’m sure it means to be a rainy morning for the effort the sky seems to be making, but so far it seems only a few moments of rain, and at best just a brief pattering of raindrops on the flue cover, before giving up. A half-hearted sort of rain. I’ve planned to be camping this weekend, with my traveling partner and son. My traveling partner was quite ill yesterday, and it seems unlikely he’ll be over it for a weekend of camping in the rain and chill of autumn approaching. I don’t yet know what the weekend really holds. It’s still quite dark outside.

I could expect to sleep in, and let the morning be wrecked out of frustrated expectations. I’d rather just get up, make some coffee, and enjoy the morning as it is, and so I make that a choice.

I could be invested in planning details of the camping trip that may or may not happen, and become irritable over plans not coming to fruition, or any number of life’s reroutes along the journey. I could be annoyed by the rain. I could be disappointed by my partner coming down sick, and become irritable over how inconsiderate I would also then feel. I’d rather simply enjoy the day, as it unfolds, maybe camping – prepared for it – maybe not – prepared for that, too, and enjoy life’s journey as it is. This too is a choice.

I could choose differently. Moment-to-moment, my will is my own – most particularly when I make it so. More verbs. Choose. 🙂 Today is a good day to choose wisely, to choose joy, and to choose contentment. These are choices, my choices. What will you choose? 🙂

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Categories autumn, Free Will, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Relationships, The Art of Being

Practicing on Paper

September 16, 2016 //
0

No witty words today. No observations of particular note. No emotional salve. No imagery. Today, I practice. I haven’t yet found my social security card, which I didn’t realize I’d misplaced until I happened on it some weeks ago. It was conveniently already in a place “that makes sense”, where I “couldn’t possibly lose it”, and which I had already forgotten, previously. It wasn’t my best decision-making to leave it in that location trusting that I wouldn’t forget it, yet again.

It's just a bit of paper.

Well, damn… Where did I put that?

This morning I am made entirely of human, and the practicing with be all of those that help me ‘keep myself together’ in the face of potentially an entire day of small frustrations while I hunt down this worthless 2″ x 3″ piece of paper no one gives two shits about until it’s time to fill out an I-9 for employment. I’m somewhat amused to live in a state without reciprocity between the DMV and Social Security Administration, because I’d have been able to order a replacement online to be mailed to me if they did, and I’m mostly pretty done with being angry about it; amusement is what’s left over.  Suffice it to say my in-person visit with the SSA was not ideally successful; I feel victorious over my issues to struggle with public tears on the phone with my traveling partner and nothing worse.

It's just a piece of paper. It is not "who I am".

It’s just a piece of paper. It is not “who I am”.

So. The practicing. Today I’ll both look for the card (again), and maintain positive self-soothing practices hoping to keep my experience of frustration very minimal. That sounds so… easy…

I can't help think there's got to be a better way... it's the number that matters.

I think there’s got to be a better way… it’s the number that matters. (Hello? 21st century? Can we get an upgrade here, please?)

“Easy” doesn’t describe my experience of frustration very often. Frustration is my kryptonite. My results may vary. There are a quantity of verbs involved. Taking care of the woman in the mirror such that she is efficient, focused, committed – but not a frantic madwoman tearing the house apart enraged or hysterical – is one of the more major challenges I deal with when faced with frustration. That’d be quite the tight-rope act 3-4 years ago, or more. Today it feels like an exam. A test. Well… sure, okay. I’m being tested. Good test results may rely on good general self-care… it’s at least somewhere to start. So. Coffee. Yoga. Meditation. A nutritious balanced breakfast between 200-350 calories. Exercise. And the cherry on top; time spent considering how very often I do find things, lost things, misplaced things, things that have been moved in a thoughtless moment. I find things. It’s here somewhere. 🙂

Helpfully, it's quite unique in appearance.

Helpfully, it’s quite unique in appearance.

Sometimes the practices I need most turn out to have benefits I didn’t consider before. For me, the opposite of frustration is not “gratification”, it is “emotional ease”. The last time I misplaced something dear to me, that remained lost, unfound, perhaps “gone forever”, I lost myself in hysterics for hours and felt low and rather lost, myself, for many days. I grieved. It seems excessive, generally, for lost stuff. Today is a good day to treat myself better than that. 🙂

It's just a bit of paper.

It’s just a bit of paper.

Somewhere in my mind’s eye, I imagine an orderly school room of children, a teach or test proctor at the front… “Pencils up! And begin.” Today is a good day to begin again. It’s enough.

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

Contentment or Perfection?

September 11, 2016 //
0

It is a lovely morning. I woke rested and feeling content and comfortable in my skin; it’s a nice feeling with which to start the day. I breathe the cool morning air deeply. I sip my coffee. I think of friends. I think about my traveling partner, wishing him well wherever he is this morning.

I eye my fitness tracker suspiciously, irked by an obvious lie; it says I slept well, continuously through the night*. I didn’t at all. I was up a number of times because I foolishly drank 3 glasses of water in the last hour I was awake! I start down the path of troubleshooting that, reading user reviews and forums, and finding myself “inactive” on my tracker – so much so that a hummingbird lingers for some time at the feeder, watching me not doing anything. I have a thought, at that point… am I really investing time teasing apart this puzzle, now? Does it matter that much? No, seriously – am I actually going to require atomic-clock accuracy from a value-priced piece of wearable technology I bought on a whim primarily to count steps and monitor activity? (Well? I’m really asking here…) Do I actually need that to achieve my goals? (No.) Is approximate relative precision enough for my own purposes? (Of course it is.)

This image is not "accurate"; it was taken on a different day, at a different time, and it is not "now".

This image is not “accurate”; it was taken on a different day, at a different time, and it is not “now”.

It’s funny/not funny how easily I can be tempted by discontent. How quickly “enough” can become seemingly inadequate – over expectations and assumptions. I was surprised by the sleep feature yesterday, because of the level of detail. This morning I woke having assumed it would reliably do precisely that, daily. It didn’t. I could curse the device, become dissatisfied, cling to wanting more until it feels like I need more, then rush to spend more money on a more expensive device because it seems like more is necessary to achieve “enough”. It’s a trick. A lie. Enough is actually enough – that’s sort of how sufficiency works, actually. 🙂 For me, and it is very much an individual thing, it is enough to be mindfully aware of how my devices are actually working, and account for that in my understanding of the data they provide. Done. Troubleshooting over. Satisfaction with my morning restored. So easy. 😉

(No, it isn’t easy. Yes, it takes practice. Sure, there are verbs involved. Of course, your results may vary. It may  not be obvious, but it  is worth the practice…well…it has been for me.)

Isn’t it funny how easily misled we are by marketing, by the media, by the stories we tell ourselves about what is, what isn’t, and what we think we have to have to get by? Something to think about…

Today is a lovely day to let go of untested assumptions. Today is a good day to be aware that my expectations have no effect on reality. Today is a good day to walk away from arguments – even with myself. Today is a good day for brunch with a friend… It won’t change the world, but I do like brunch. 🙂

 

*Followup note: as of some three hours after I woke (well, that’s when I noticed), my devices are now all fully synced, and the sleep tracking has updated. I’m pleased by that, and more pleased that I managed my primate drive for immediate gratification with some skill this morning. We become what we practice. 🙂

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Categories health, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Parables, Perspective, Sleepless Nights, The Art of Being, weight loss secrets, Words

The Brain Attacks! Again.

September 9, 2016 //
0

It could be that some of my challenges will be part of my experience for as long as I’m experiencing things. It sucks more than a little bit to dwell on that, so I move on with my thinking as quickly as I can, but without cruelty or dismissiveness. I am human, after all. This morning I woke, and quickly found myself reduced to tears…over… nothing. Nothing whatsoever that has any substance in this moment, I mean. Emotions. Dreams? Maybe.

"The Nightmare City" 8" x 10" acrylic on canvas w/glow

“The Nightmare City” 8″ x 10″ acrylic on canvas w/glow

I woke feeling angry with my traveling partner, which is odd; one of my challenges is feeling safe about, and comfortably expressing, anger in my closest relationships. (It’s baggage that isn’t about my traveling partner, but he’s had to endure me lugging it around all this time.) I woke feeling angry that in our first years married, illness held him back from doing a lot of cool things; we stayed home, a lot. Now he’s well, and feeling fully himself, and he lives a busy life of adventure, going, doing, experiencing new things… and we no longer live together, and these are not our shared experiences. The anger I woke with quickly threatened to become a tantrum, a storm of unrelenting strong emotion knocking me off-balance with hurt feelings, and regrets. The anger became grief and sadness as soon as I let myself feel my feelings with compassion, and recognized the simultaneous feelings of resentment, sadness, and insecurity. My heart cried out “what do we have that is ours?” and I couldn’t answer it – not because there is nothing with which to answer, but because I can’t easily find the answer (through tears, through heartache, through the fog of just waking up, before my coffee…) without considerable thought. I let the tears come; it would be a genuinely sad thing to share nothing with one’s lover, and were that the case, there would be no failure in these honest tears.

It's okay to put some of that down, for now.

It’s okay to put some of that down, for now.

Later, I sip my coffee aware of the authentic feelings at the root of my difficult waking moments. I’m deeply in love with this particular human being I call my traveling partner, and at least for now we live very separate lives. Sometimes that is a painful experience. Sometimes it holds some relief that this human being so dear to me doesn’t have to struggle under the weight of my chaos and damage full-time. Right now, in this moment, I just miss him and find myself wondering rather hormonally what value I have… (Fuck you, Menopause, I’m supposed to be past having to deal with hormonal bullshit!) It’s rather foolish. It’s very human.

Love matters most.

Love matters most.

Seasons change. Over the long summer I’ve come to miss him greatly, after enjoying living with him through the winter. I’m eager to enjoy the autumn and winter months together, celebrating holidays, enjoying the company of friends… but… there is something real here that may want my attention, and getting past the tears I’m aware that most his “go” and “do” activities in the past 2 years have developed in other relationships than ours. We spend very little time together; he’s busy elsewhere. (It’s quite possible the time we do spend together fully meets his needs. I’m not sure I’m ready to ask that question…) I woke up hurting over it and wondering what value “we” have for him. It’s not something to stew over – that’s a fast track to misery. I’ll just ask when I see him again, and he will tell me, and then I’ll know. I’ll be back to work soon… there won’t be time for fussing about how little time we spend together, then; there won’t be time left in the days for it. The time we spend together will be limited to the time we have.

My calendar is very full for the next several days. Appointments. Brunch with a friend over the weekend. Friday night with the guys from my previous work team. My last week of leisure will probably be filled with “getting ready to go back to work” activities. It’s not likely that these will be days filled with sadness or passing emotional storms, there’s too much to do, and life to be lived. I feel some regret that my traveling partner wasn’t available to enjoy more of this time away from work with me… but it was time I took for me, as it was, and it has been well-spent on healing, growing, and practicing good self-care. Worthy endeavors, good outcomes. (So, hey, Brain, stop being such a bitch to me, please?)

A gray dawn greeted me so gently I barely noticed it had become day time while I wrote. I’m not crying now, or even sad really. I’m sipping my coffee, listening to music, and feeling a contented smile tug at the corners of my mouth. I think about other friends. Other loves. Other moments of great joy – or great sorrow. Impermanence is a very real thing, and change is, too. I smile thinking about my traveling partner’s good times to come, and his journey here and there. I’m already eager to hear about it – and he hasn’t even departed. lol He’ll take approximately no pictures at all, but my imagination will fill in all the details in the telling. 🙂

Today I don’t opt into loneliness, and once my tears have dried it’s another lovely morning, heading into another day of living a life built mostly on contentment (and bits and pieces of chaos and damage). Today is a good day to begin again. 🙂

 

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Categories Anxiety, art and the artist, autumn, Brain Injury, Free Will, grief, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Love, Menopause, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, The Art of Being, Words
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