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This One Quiet Moment

November 18, 2014 //
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I’m sipping my first Americano from the new espresso machine. The machine-that-had-been died. This new machine is the clear master of the coffee universe, and it has the features to prove it…but it takes the might of the pantheon of greek gods to lock in the porto filter – and the simultaneous requirement to be as delicate as a surgeon. 🙂 New skills in development, clearly, and some concerns about whether I will ever ever sleep through someone else making a shot of espresso ever again. I sure didn’t this morning. I woke at whatever brutally early hour my partner was testing the new machine – eagerly, and with great skill, I don’t doubt, but banging out the puck into the knock out box (I’m sure it has some proper name…) is as loud as someone hammering nails into the wall to hang paintings. Pretty loud at 4:30 am. The new machine is a birthday gift to my traveling partner – and a combined household effort to make it happen promptly. It’s a delight to have this tasty coffee first thing, and over time I’m sure I’ll get used to the different sounds of this machine, and able to sleep through much of it.

Here’s the best part of my morning coffee…it’s enough. Honestly? It’s enough when it is a french press of pre-ground drip coffee. It’s enough when I’m out of coffee and resort to black tea. It’s enough because that’s truly all I ‘need’… and…if I’m honest with myself, I’m addicted to the amount of caffeine I get each day in this form, and it’s both a preference and maintenance of that addiction. So. ‘Need’ is an appropriate word here, and I’ve got no baggage with this relatively harmless habit. The important word is ‘enough’. The experience of my morning coffee has varied over the years – and nearly always been ‘enough’. It’s a powerful lesson in sufficiency; take away someone’s addiction, and see what they find is an acceptable stop-gap measure, or a worthy substitute. That’s when I see directly into the face of sufficiency. My choices aren’t always about enough. My brain is very skilled at making ‘more’ seem reasonable, and from reasonable things easily escalate to ‘achievable’ and from ‘achievable’ the distance to ‘must have’ is short enough to traverse with great ease – and little mindfulness. I gotta work on that.

A different coffee, on a different day, in another place; memories of love are sometimes captured in pictures of coffee.

A different coffee, on a different day, in another place; memories of love are sometimes captured in pictures of coffee.

This morning I woke with a headache and a stuffy head. I’m not sick, just getting used to the change in household climate that accompanies the change in weather. My room feels too hot. I haven’t found the correct balance of bed-clothes, yet…which suddenly finds me feeling rather embarrassed to give it even a thought; how many people are struggling to sleep through the cold nights of winter because they just don’t have enough? My heart aches in a strange way I don’t recall feeling often in years past. I’m moved to participate in the holiday charity drives in the office out of some soft yearning to ease the suffering of the world, more than to avoid the embarrassment I used to feel because I didn’t consider the human experience broadly enough to be truly moved (and while aware of that, I didn’t know quite what to do about it at that time).

I am thinking, now, of all the things that drive humanity’s winter holidays…feasting and gifting, hospitality and generosity, the warmth and glow of inclusive celebration. It’s easy to get lost in the media spin, the marketing, and the advertising pushing consumers to consume – and to buy – and there’s so much more to it than dollars, at least there is for me.

Following my path where it leads.

Following my path where it leads.

Today is a good day to think ahead to the holidays. Today is a good day to plan and prepare for what is ahead, and to roll with the changes when life delivers on a different promise altogether. Today is a good day to hand craft something to enjoy, or to give – or both. Today is a good day to take care of me, and to appreciate others. What a rich palette life paints with; today is a good day to enjoy the colors. Today is a good day to celebrate with the world.

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Categories autumn, Brain Injury, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Love, Metaphors, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, The Big 5, Words

More Stormy Weather

November 13, 2014 //
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Okay, so definitely winter, or as nearly so as makes no difference, now. We’ve a winter storm warning for freezing rain, maybe mixed with some snow, definitely mixed with some local panic; we don’t do snow and ice well, here. The local transit is in chains – snow chains – but for now that’s more ‘just in case’ than actual weather. Weather forecasting has come a long way since I was a child, too, there’s real weather coming, and the storm shows in local radar. Do I go into the office, or not? That’s more complicated. This morning, I am inclined to go in to work in spite of the weather. Staying home doesn’t sound pleasant; everyone else is already committed to working from home, and I’m already feeling very irritable after an unpleasant start to the morning. I guess it will ultimately depend on whether the weather is worse than my mood. I keep checking the reports, and the transit web page; when local transit starts shutting down, it’s definitely time to heed the storm warnings.

Heeding storm warnings has great value. One of the small things in life I find most easily irritates me, personally, is when people close to me ignore my ‘storm warnings’, or treat me dismissively, or with a parental demeanor, when I am annoyed or angry. Mockery when I’m angry is the high-speed bullet train to the deepest longest-standing chaos and damage. Stoking my anger when I also feel helpless – or creating conditions wherein I feel helpless when I am already angry – is Plan A if the goal is to see me at my worst. Pretty nearly everyone has ‘tells’ – warning signs – that they are being pushed into their emotional ‘badlands’. I would expect that this being the case would make it so easy for everyone to be mindfully considerate of each other, sharing feedback in gentle words, delivering concerns or complaints with consideration and awareness that the person being spoken to is also human, and probably doing their best, generally. Being aware that the person we’re speaking to has their own issues, their own baggage, their own ‘soft white underbelly’ has so much potential to foster great experiences among beings built on respect, appreciation, affection… We don’t use our awareness that way very often, do we? I definitely have room to grow in that area. So does everyone I know. Hell, I can’t seem to reliably take advantage of my awareness of my own emotional state moment to moment to treat myself genuinely well, and with great fondness and tenderness – and I totally know me, and all that I need to thrive. It’s puzzling and frustrating and the result tends to be that I’d rather be at the office, where the expectations of me are very clear, and emotions don’t generally come into it.

I’d like to just coast gently from moment to moment with profound awareness, and great consideration for all my fellow travelers. Somehow, I keep finding myself pissed off about some small thing, or feeling hurt… It is a challenge to be ‘above the bullshit’ long enough to evaluate circumstances with reason, untainted by the hurt of the moment, to make the best possible decision which will meet my needs best over time. If I gave in to myself right now, I’d be storming around the place, stomping, slamming things, swearing… it wouldn’t help at all; it would merely serve to attempt to communicate to the household that I’m pissed off and hurting. If they don’t already understand that from my demeanor, and my words, they are not going to understand it through being obnoxiously loud, either; they aren’t listening. So. I sit quietly, seething alone, waiting for the storm to pass and hoping that the weather outside the house remains safe for travel. It’s best that I take this side of me to the office where I can harness the fury to a good cause without hurting anyone.

I feel angry this morning. I’m struggling to make peace with myself and the circumstances. It’s an enormous effort to practice practices I know ‘help’ – anger is an emotion that tends to want a specifically satisfying outcome, and seems to have the will to feed itself to stay alive. Knowing this hasn’t made it any easier to undermine my anger with wholesome emotional support based on self-sufficient practices. I dislike feelings in this range of the emotional spectrum, and a lot of my baggage is ‘about’ things colored by these sorts of emotions. It’s hard to make the choices that ease my suffering, sometimes. It’s hard to let go of wanting to be heard, and understood, and treated well, so I can rest comfortably on self-care practices that have built up my emotional resilience over time. It’s easier to yield to the misery, and give in to the suffering; but the outcome of doing so is predictably unpleasant. The outcome of good practices, emotional self-sufficiency, perspective, and a willingness to care for me with the same enduring strength and commitment I would bring to caring for any loved one is worth the effort, if only I can make the effort. There are verbs involved.

So. I guess today is a good day to practice good practices… and it looks like I’ll get a lot of opportunities to keep practicing. Today is a good day to attend to storm warnings, and take care of me. Today there’s stormy weather.

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Categories autumn, Brain Injury, Hormone Hell, Logic & Reason, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, The Big 5, winter, Words

Not Exactly What I Call ‘Sleep’

November 11, 2014 //
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I didn’t sleep well last night. Actually, I didn’t sleep last night. I went to bed in the evening feeling fully prepared and ready to sleep. I even fell asleep with little effort. For about 2 hours. Then I woke, and dozed, and woke again. I got up around 12:41 am and prowled the house quietly. Then back to bed; there were no monsters. I woke again shortly after 2:00 am, did the trip to the bathroom. Back to bed. Heard my partner wake and move about the house. Another sleepless being. Shortly after, I got up, and got more water. I kept trying to sleep. I kept dozing off, waking, and not sleeping. I figure I may have gotten about 3.5 hours of sleep. I am not rested. I am not alert. I am highly volatile, and likely to be easily irritated. I’m not making predictions or making assumptions; this is my now.

When I got up with the alarm and recognized my state of being for what it is, I made a point of alerting my partner – still awake, himself – and letting him know I’m high risk for tantrums and nastiness this morning. He shifted from delight at seeing me, to concern and tender caution. He made it easy to retreat to my own space, where it is at least quiet, and unlikely that someone will haplessly piss me off, without remembering the fragile state I’m in.

The weekend is a blur. I took yesterday off in observance of Veteran’s Day, so that someone else on my team could take it off today, comfortably. We’re both veterans. I will work today, fuzzy-headed, slowed-down from lack of sleep, irritable, and doing my best to be patient with random people thanking me for my service. (The temptation is always to explain very carefully why it wasn’t worth it, and how the price is too high; I already know they don’t understand, and I generally don’t bother.) They mean well, and generally in the moment they say the words, they are indeed attempting to communicate something heartfelt and important to them. I try to accept it, graciously. I can’t actually offer them absolution, if that is what they are seeking. There is no way to ‘validate their parking’ ethically on matters of war.

I can hear the family, on the other side of the door, talking and laughing. I feel a surge of pointless anger. I’m so tired. The anger isn’t rational, and there is no blame-worthy object at which to direct it. I didn’t sleep. I fell asleep dozens of times, never achieving a deep enough sleep to survive foot steps in the hallway, coughing, toilets flushing, trucks passing by, occasional nose-blowing, drawers, doors, or the noises of the pipes cooling, or whatever it is that pipes do that causes that knocking they sometimes do. These are all everyday sounds. Generally they are not sufficient to keep me awake, or to wake me. Last night I wasn’t sleeping well. Returning to a calm resting place wasn’t too hard. Even if I hadn’t been actually sleeping, and tired, and very much inclined to sleep, there’s always meditation to bring me to the edge of readiness to sleep, and from there it’s usually just a choice. Last night my experience was different. I didn’t sleep well.

Now I’ve been on about it for more than 500 words; it’s hard to think about anything but the sleep, and rest, I desperately need to function well when I didn’t get it. I dread going to work today.

Rain-drenched autumn flowers...no substitute for sleep.

Rain-drenched autumn flowers…no substitute for sleep.

I hurt this morning, too. I wonder if the pain kept me awake? I don’t recall now. I know I hurt.

Lovely blossoms, just less frequent than spring.

Lovely blossoms, less frequent than spring; even pain doesn’t hide autumn’s loveliness.

I’m almost numb with fatigue. I hadn’t slept well for a few days, although I had at least slept. It wasn’t enough to prepare me for this. I giggle slightly hysterically, frustrated by the rampant typing mistakes this morning, the inappropriate expression of amusement somehow my response to the internal seething. Yep. Tired. It’s going to be an interesting day at the office.

Sometimes the truth isn't grand, or illuminating.

Sometimes the truth isn’t grand, or illuminating.

Today isn’t wasted, in spite of the rough start. There’s always more to learn, and the challenges I face – when I face them well – show my strength. When I am less successful facing my challenges, I learn more, grow more, and find new questions to ask along this journey of discovery. Today is one day I’ll do so from the perspective of great fatigue, and limited resilience. The day is far from wasted; it has the potential to teach me something truly new about what I can do with my choices and my will, and where my values really lie. Today, as days go, is ideal for putting new practices to the test, and for seeing progress and growth in action. Tired isn’t synonymous with poor treatment. I still have choices. I still hold a standard of behavior in my treatment of others – and myself – that puts abuse out of reach, and challenges me to do more, better, on a day like today. Where might that take me? No idea. I know I am loved.

My traveling partner comes to me with a smile, and although my initial reaction is one of caution and suspicion (because I am, frankly, not entirely clear-headed), he reached out with love, wrapped me in his arms and held me, touching me gently, stroking my skin, rubbing my back in places he knows reliably hurt, and folding me in his love. Am I still tired? Oh yeah. Do I still hurt? Yep, unquestionably. I am loved, though, and that goes beyond pain, and beyond fatigue, and touches my heart. Even today.

Lovely autumn roses; more beautiful because they are unexpected.

Lovely autumn roses; more beautiful because they are unexpected.

Today is a good day to do my best. Today is a good day to avoid making assumptions. Today is a good day not to take stuff personally. Today is a good day to be impeccable with my words. Today is a good day to savor pleasant moments with my full attention. Today is a good day to let small stuff go. Today is a good day to be patient with myself, and with others. Today is a good day to take care of me, and mind the basics of good self-care – even if I didn’t get enough _______. (Today it’s ‘sleep’, tomorrow I might forget my vitamins. lol) Today is a good day to build a world that cares for me, by being one person I can always count on to do so.

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Categories autumn, Brain Injury, Healthy Living, Love, Menopause, Metaphors, Mindfulness, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Roses, Sleepless Nights, The Big 5, Words

Expectations, Assumptions, and Homecomings

November 9, 2014 //
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It’s Sunday, and today the travelers return. I love a good homecoming. It’s so easy to sabotage a wonderful moment with expectations, and assumptions… today I make my ‘to do list’ with an eye for the work week ahead, and ensuring returning travelers will have the laundry room for their own needs when they get home, and a tidy home to return to. Pain has made being productive around the house a challenge this weekend, but it’s somewhat less today, and I know that if I manage my self-care carefully, and mindful of my limitations, I will be able to meet my own needs for preparing for the coming work week, as well as meeting my own basic standard for household upkeep.

Expectations and assumptions are just about the fastest shortcuts to relationship misery ever. If I had set expectations that a certain amount of very specific housework would be done, then couldn’t do it, it could be disappointing or inconveniencing for other members of the household. Similarly, if they were to assume certain specific things would be done, and arrived to find that those things weren’t done, it could be irksome or inconveniencing, too. If I assume everyone around me knows how much pain I’m in – and how much that limits me – I set internal expectations with myself about how I will be treated, that may not be reasonable; pain isn’t visible to others as a quantity or magnitude of suffering, and the limitations it creates are not obvious at a glance.

Clear – and explicit – expectation setting has enormous value, generally, and I practice clear and specific expectation setting as much as I can. Ensuring that assumptions are quickly moved from ‘implicit’ and unconfirmed to ‘verified with clear communication and clarifying questions’ (resulting in assumptions becoming clearly set expectations), I reduce the stress and drama – and anxiety – of life and love. Seems simple enough in text…it isn’t always so simple in practice. I’ve done my best this weekend. Seems my family has as well. I’m eager to welcome them home.

It'll be evening when they get home... conversations over tea, anecdotes, laughter, the quiet warmth of family...

It’ll be evening when they get home… conversations over tea, anecdotes, laughter, the quiet warmth of family…I look ahead and fight the desire to hold expectations, or make assumptions about the evening to come.

I slept restlessly again last night. I’m not sure what’s disturbing my sleep; I wake frequently for no obvious cause, and I’m only getting 4-5 hours of sleep a night. This morning I just kept at it until daybreak, and managed almost 7 hours of sleep – in 90 minute to two-hour increments. Hardly ideal, but there’s no real distress in it, either.

Today I’ll spend the day in mindful service to home and hearth, and taking care of me with yoga, meditation, study, and working on my manuscript for NaNoWriMo. Today is a good day for all those things. Today is a good day to enjoy the day, this life, and this being I have worked so hard to become. The small details matter, and savoring the pleasant moments matters, too. It’s a good day to enjoy small delights. It’s a good day to enjoy the world.

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Categories autumn, Brain Injury, Free Will, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, Words
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