Archives for category: Metaphors

It’s still dark outside, the day has barely begun.  It will unfold soon enough, in pink and lavender, and a hint of orange along the horizon. What sort of day will it be? Mostly, it will be the sort of day I choose, the sort of day I make it become through my actions, my circumstances, my decision-making – and my perspective.

Dawn, effort, and progress;  my morning skyline as a metaphor.

Dawn, effort, and progress; my morning skyline as a metaphor.

When I take a mindful and observing approach, so many details are revealed that the landscape of my day, and my experience are altered (usually for the better).

There is more to see than what is obvious.

There is more to see than what is obvious.

Today is a good day to choose well, to make choices that are compassionate, choices that are kind, and choices that recognize that we are each more similar than different – and that both our differences and our similarities are worthy of acknowledgement, respect, and kind humor. “Good-natured” is a characteristic I would like to associate with myself.  Today is a good day to cultivate that quality.

Choose a path.

Choose a path.

Choices upon choices – it is no wonder so many opportunities arise when the easier course of action seems to be inaction, or that the easier choice is to refrain from choosing and allow events to unfold ‘as they will’.  I consider for a moment that events unfolding ‘as they will’ – how clearly that spells out that the will of others is involved, and that a lack of will on my part doesn’t really get me off the hook on the matter of choice – or will; someone has chosen something at some point that becomes an element of my own experience.  Being involved in my own experiences seems a wise choice.

Today is a good day to be kind.  It is a good day to show compassion for myself, and for others. It is a good day to coach with praise more often than with criticism, and to offer encouragement over frustration. Today is a good day for hugs, and a good day for smiles.  Today is a good day to let go of fearful assumptions, and reading sub text into the words of others.  Today is a good day to be open to the possibilities – known and unknown. Today is a good day to be who I am, wrapped in this fragile vessel that is my body, on this roller coaster ride that is my experience.  Today is a good day to accept struggle, and acknowledge challenges, without being cowed by them. Today is a good day to remember that feelings like despair, futility, apathy, and frustration are parts of my experience now and then – along with joy, delight, hope, excitement, enthusiasm, contentment, confidence, and love.  Today is a good day to remember that everyone’s pain hurts – and nearly always hurts them more than any other pain they might be aware exists, because it is their own.  Today we are each having our own experience.

Today I am kind, I am content, and I am compassionate.  Today I am hopeful and enthusiastic about life. Today I love, and I am worthy of love in return. Today there is more about me that is whole than is broken. Today I choose, and in my choices hope to thrive and treat myself and others well.

Today I will change the world.

 

 

 

 

 

 

I’ll just give you the TMI warning now, okay? If you are squeamish about the biology of women, I understand; please stop now and read something else. 😉  If you choose to stick around, welcome – we’ll resume after this lovely metaphor about women and medicine…

Mushrooms

Mushrooms

It says something about the state of medicine, where women are concerned at least, that the medical industry has yet to develop a simple, reliable, accurate test to determine whether or not a woman is ‘menopausal’, heading toward menopause, or dealing with some other variety of hormonal weirdness.  Seriously. Women have existed alongside men as medicine developed and progressed, and as far as I know the experience of our reproductive life-cycle hasn’t really evolved much… so what’s the hold up? Currently, the most reliable criteria for determining whether a woman has ‘gone through menopause’ is – and this is not the punch line of a cruel joke, it’s quite literally what we’re told – “once you’ve gone a year without having a period, you have gone through menopause”.  Um…what? Yep. That’s it. “Wait and see” is the best we’re offered.  0_o

I am counting down the days. Again. So far, 101 of them – and that beats my last count down, earlier this year, when I got to 92 days, then faced the ‘joy’ of disastrously and unpredictably heavy (and irregular) periods and the associated random opportunities to spot clean, or do extra laundry at a moment’s notice for a handful of months.  Now I am counting again.

I’m also wearing pajamas. Well, ‘sleepwear’ of some sort…  I’ve always preferred to sleep nude, as an adult. I find it more comfortable.  I like the feeling of sleeping nude… but I dislike the experience of waking abruptly in the night to find that linens need to be changed, the mattress needs spot cleaning, and a shower has become an urgent necessity; so, sleepwear has become practical beyond the sensuous preference for nudity. lol.  I find myself considering how nice it will feel to return to sleeping nude once I’m past the ‘pause… but I’m also sort of growing to enjoy the fun of sleepwear… is it an age thing? Is it vanity? Is it a good excuse to think of lingerie as ‘practical’? My taste is a bit toward soft and pretty, although in the dark…? lol.  I definitely don’t prefer long pajama pants for sleeping, though – I love the feel of smooth legs on clean sheets. 😀

I miss the clockwork regularity of my cycle in younger years… I do not miss the threat of fertility, though.  I’ve had a good cry or two over ‘I’ll never…’, that’s a pretty human experience, isn’t it?  Motherhood hasn’t been an aspiration for me, though. I’m not that woman; I have walked a very different path all along.  A brief period in my life – between about 27 and 32 – I had an undefeatable urge to reproduce.  It was an experience that felt very biological, and rather beyond my control or understanding.  At 50 I remain satisfied with a childless life, with choices other than parenting.   I’ve only ever met one man who moved me so, heart and soul, that I grieved openly in his arms that I would not ever bear his child – and although neither of us wanted children at that point in our lives, he understood me so well.  He held me while I cried, and said the soft tender things that lovers know to say, and the moment passed.  No doubt that will be one nagging regret I will have… one moment of poignant longing… one missed experience that will hold a tiny bright flame of wistfulness and sorrow that I feel now and again; to have been a mother, to have born his child, to have loved and shared and built someone new together to carry who we are in their heart and in their memory, would have been remarkable indeed.

Motherhood is not my path; I chose differently very early on, and I do not regret that, even a little bit.

That’s one promise menopause holds for me that means a lot; no more stress about unplanned pregnancy.  Sex without anxiety about reproduction is a very big deal in a very good way.  😀  Like it or not, most of the available options for birth control are actually pretty awful; powerful drugs with nasty side effects (including ruining a woman’s sex drive!), condoms (and the associated loss of sensation, inconvenience, and loss of powerful biological effect on mood from contact with flesh and bodily fluids), an assortment of grim options that involve inserting bits of metal, plastic, or other foreign objects (many of which can be felt by a partner, and not in a good way), or the last worst option – going without sex.  Medicine really hasn’t done women any favors with the crappy options we have for birth control – and society doesn’t do us any favors by playing head games with us about the ‘moral’ consequences before, during, or after.  It has gotten very tedious over 50 years being bombarded with constant reminders that sex isn’t okay (when it is) that my decision-making isn’t my own (when it is), or that I have some obligation to bear life in my body (when I don’t).   Yep – I’m more than ready to reach a point in my life when my ability to reproduce is behind me, and ‘babies!’ is not longer any element of a discussion about me, or my sexual decision-making. lol.

Menopause. There’s astonishingly little real research – or support – for this element of female experience.  It still surprises me. I mean – this affects all my partners, too, not just me. My emotional reactivity, my unpredictable hormones, my everyday health and well-being don’t exist in a vacuum! I keep expecting more from the medical industry… but in a culture where it’s okay to call a scientist who won’t work for free a whore, because she is a woman, why would I be surprised?

Anyway… the count down continues, and only 264 days to go to get my final test results back determining whether I’ve reached the ‘pause.  Most accurate test available!

It’s been the sort of day that just keeps dropping precious moments and opportunities to delight in one or another favorite thing or favorite place or favorite activity…so much so that, just at the moment, I’m not sure if any one of the day’s wonders are really ‘a favorite’ or if it is just the feel of the day.

Paperweights and Porcelain

Paperweights and Porcelain…

…A quiet morning, a great latte, a good conversation with an old old friend, a trip to a local farmer’s market, biscuits and gravy for breakfast, crisp fall apples, learning things from artisans, reading a moving story, enjoying my aquarium, a brisk walk on a fall day, gentle service to home and family – these are a few of my favorite things.

Enjoying the weekend. Another favorite thing.

Today was… weird. I don’t remember now what sort of mood I was in, first thing. I think it was good.

My mood was fragile when I connected with my partner and we stopped for lunch together. I am making a lot of progress, and pursuing therapy this time is actually getting me somewhere – but I’m investing my will in this, it isn’t easy. I’m often more than usually emotional after my appointment, and feel raw and over-exposed. I appreciate it when I can get a couple really quiet hours to myself afterward, to get my bearings, and take a few deep breaths.  Sort things out, and develop a deeper understanding.

Today did not go that way.

The evening is winding down, now. In general, the day had a lot of value to it, and a lot to enjoy. I’m hoping that tomorrow morning those are the things most prominent in my memory, while the moments of discontent, and distress dissipate into the fog of what is forgotten.

I didn’t spend much time viewing the world through a lens. Today I used my eyes. Still – a couple pictures, and I’ve been looking at them and wanting them to say something more than they do. I do like a good metaphor. I’m not so sharp this evening. So…perhaps you see something I don’t see.

A single flower in autumn.

A single flower in autumn.

A shrub in bloom.

A shrub in bloom.

...Yeah...I don't know...I should have read the title.

…Yeah…I don’t know…I should have read the title.

 

 

Right now, I hurt.  My head aches. My arthritic spine is screaming to be torn free of it’s moorings and replaced with something Teflon-coated. Did I mention my headache?  I’d like to be as vibrant and poised and positive at 5:30 pm as I am at dawn. Today, I am not. Not even close. Not even a little bit.  I am, however, doing my best with what I’ve got, and still feeling generally pleasant as a human being, and capable of ‘getting the job done’, more or less – whatever that may turn out to be.

My head aches, though.  I might have had more to say. I have things on my mind. I had a wonderful moment of … something profound… night before last, with one of my partners.  A seriously healing moment that was significant. A ‘very big deal‘ sort of moment, actually. I want so much to share it explicitly, graphically, analytically – in detail, with TMI, technicolor, an a triumphant shout to the heavens… but I am tired right now. Right now my needs, and the needs of my loved ones, are different.  I feel disappointed that I don’t have ‘more to offer’ – to myself, or the world.

My head aches.

It didn’t ache this morning, when I enjoyed a coffee and some conversation with one partner, who was up unexpectedly early… but I also wasn’t sure how, or whether, to share my experience of two nights ago.  I may have missed my moment.  It was profound – for me.  Now I am tired, and uncertain of what to share with ‘the world’ and what to withhold for myself… and I feel muddled and confused.  This is the part of most days when I am able to observe the most obvious effects of my TBI in action; when I’m tired, when my head aches, at the end of a day.  Just the fatigue alone is enough to have me sitting on the edge of tears – and not for any reason.  I am simply tired beyond emotional regulation.  It sucks.  “Loss of executive function” doesn’t even begin to describe the experience.

I took a picture on the way to work this morning; it makes the morning seem somehow so very far away from now.

The day from another perspective.

The day from another perspective.

My head aches. The day is nearly over. Tomorrow is something entirely new.