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So Many Choices!

April 24, 2023 //
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I am sipping flavored water this morning. I had my coffee on the commute into the office. It’s a Monday, and these days I rarely go into the office on a Monday, but I woke to a reminder from the VA about an appointment today that I had managed to memorize correctly for the date, but somehow thought that would be on Wednesday. It is not. It is today. LOL So I quickly adjusted my intentions, and hit the road for the morning commute. I expected it would be tedious… but… apparently I’m not alone in not going into an office on Mondays; there was almost no traffic at all.

I am thinking about the weekend, and the time spent planning future getaways with my Traveling Partner. The truck has us both fired up and eager to explore corners of favorite places and new destinations previously unreachable in his sedan, or in my Mazda. We have hours long conversations about camp kitchens, roof-top tents, jet-boil stoves vs all the other sorts, the necessity or luxury of taking a portable toilet, and does it make sense to have a solar generator and a fridge, or is that just ridiculous? There are so many options to choose from, so many approaches to overlanding, camping, hiking, from the gear to the routes to take, to the destinations near and far that we might want to see. It’s a pleasant way to pass time together, talking about the options and our choices, and whether we can tackle them now, or whether they go on a list for future purchases – or is there some other way we can do that thing in a less costly more personalized way, using our skills, time, and materials on hand? I’m getting to know a whole new side of my Traveling Partner – it’s very exciting.

I spent much of my weekend in the garden. Planting alyssum for future mounds of fragrant ground-covering flowers. Putting up a trellis for the peas. “Encouraging” the blueberries and the roses with oohs and aahs of delight that they are doing so well, already. Checking to see if the neighbor’s cat is staying out of the vegetables now that I’ve put that cat-deterring spikey-matt down here and there. Weeding out dandelions from the flower beds and the small bit of lawn we’ve got. (So many dandelions!) It was a lovely weekend. Time well-spent.

The real point here isn’t that I had a great weekend spent in excellent company. The point is that I had choices. A lot of choices. I chose to enjoy the weekend in spite of the pain I was in on Friday evening, and much of Saturday. I chose to go hither and thither with my Traveling Partner for occasional errands (I could have stayed home). I chose to garden. Together we chose to put time into figuring out what we really want of our leisure time – and how we can make that happen most easily. Oh, for sure, sometimes I let myself bob around like a cork on the ocean, and circumstances or the whims of my partner made the decisions for me… nonetheless, even taking that approach is making a choice. There is so much that is truly within our control through our power to choose. 🙂

I think I’m saying “don’t choose to be miserable then wonder why you are miserable; choose differently if you want a different experience”. Misery is sometimes kind of an “easy way out”, isn’t it? There are verbs involved in escaping misery. Results will vary. We become what we practice, though… so… keeping practicing? Choose something different? Begin again?

Choices are not always “simple” or “easy”. Outcomes are not guaranteed. We do have an astonishing number of choices, though…

I guess I’ll begin again. 😀

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Spring, The Art of Being

It’s Always a Good Time to Change

April 16, 2023 //
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I’m sipping a cup of tea and thinking about life. In general, things are good. My anxiety has flared up, though, and it often feels as though “dial is turned up to 11“. My PTSD is reliably aggravated by my anxiety… and my anxiety is aggravated when my PTSD flares up… and around and around I go. My finger tips are torn and my cuticles are ragged from gnawing at them mindlessly. My Traveling Partner notes my overall stress level and suggests various things to help me “relax” – I reliably reply that I am relaxed – I’m not.

My self-care is going to shit quickly… there’s definitely a “mind-body” connection to be considered, too. As my anxiety worsens, I sleep more poorly. As my quality of sleep degrades, my pain becomes harder to manage. As my physical condition worsens over time, my emotional resilience is undermined, and I become more volatile, more easily provoked to anger, and struggle more and more to maintain a rational perspective on circumstances and events. It’s an emotionally painful and demoralizing process.

…I’ve “been here” before. I have tools now that I lacked years ago. I know to address the source(s) of my stress, and to meditate regularly, and practice non-attachment. I have learned over time that my reaction-in-the-moment, at the best of times, is likely to be less helpful that a well-considered, responsive approach, that is nuanced and thorough. I know that I am prone to “catastrophizing” and that this can become a real problem very quickly, robbing me of perspective, and a sense of sufficiency. I quickly “lose my joy”.

So, I am sipping this cup of tea and thinking about practices, and next steps, and how best to take care of myself under the current circumstances. It’s not “easy”, but that’s often the case with stressful situations. I’m fortunate to have a supportive partner, and good quality of life; at least I’m not having to also worry about those details!

I had talked things over with my therapist at my most recent appointment. He made some follow-up suggestions – almost a “homework” assignment, in practical terms. It was just 4 things he wanted me to consider doing. I’ve done two of those, so far. Feels pretty good.

I sigh. I am thinking about how often it seems that when a person expresses a deep interest in a topic, or shares some detail that gives them great joy, there’s often someone lurking in their social network who seems eager to pull the rug out from under them. Weird, eh? Don’t do that. Treat people as people. Treat them with kindness (you don’t know what they are going through). Appreciate that you can’t possibly know life and the world (or the decision-making of others) from the perspective of someone else – even if they choose to share that perspective with you. We’re each having our own experience. Do what you can not to fuck things up for someone else, eh? If we each did just that, the world would be far more pleasant for many more people.

This weekend my Traveling Partner when for a long drive together. We talked about life, and future other camping and cool drives we’d like to take together out in the wildernesses of America. It was lovely. Time well-spent. It’s not enough, however pleasant, to remove all my challenges from my experience of self. I’ve got the issues I’ve got. I’m learning to manage them more skillfully – and sometimes that means “change”.

It’s time to breathe. Exhale. Relax. And begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, Healthy Living, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, Spring, The Art of Being, War and News of War

The Clock is Ticking

March 30, 2023 //
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The sound of a ticking clock used to really cause me stress, for a younger me that was most especially true of the steady thunk of grandfather clocks during the wee hours, when I could not sleep. I would lay awake painfully aware that the minutes of my life were… passing. It was a poor choice to focus on the sound of the ticking of clocks when plagued by insomnia, but that’s who I was then, and there seemed to be ticking clocks nearly everywhere. I’m not so hung up on time, these days, and the sound of a ticking clock doesn’t bother me at all. Progress can be measured in some very peculiar ways. lol

My coffee is good. The day is off to an excellent start. My Traveling Partner was already up when I got up this morning, and we enjoyed our first cup of coffee together, which was lovely. I arrived at the co-work space at about the usual time, which made the choice to slow down and have coffee together ideal; it didn’t change the rest of my routine or plan for the day at all. 😀

I feel good. I sit with that for a few minutes… It’s not that I don’t have any physical pain, it’s more that it just doesn’t matter right now. I feel calm and centered. I feel infused with a certain soft contented joy. I feel… relaxed. It’s very pleasant. I find that it isn’t necessarily a useful mindset for writing; I am content with sitting here watching my thoughts drift by. lol So… I do that for a little while, without concern or shame. It’s a short enough life already – I think I’ll enjoy it the way I enjoy it, and be okay with that. 😀

Spring is definitely here. The morning is mild, and in the mid-40s about 6 degrees Celsius. I am thinking eagerly about getting the new blueberry bushes into the ground.

Waiting to be planted.

There’s preparatory work to do, to get the beds ready for the new shrubs. I’m okay with that – a lot of life works that way; we benefit from planning, and also from preparation. Those are both useful for getting the best possible outcome.

I think over the morning, and the day ahead. I remind myself of a couple of errands I plan to run later, and take a look at my calendar for lunch timing – looks like a good day go home for lunch with my Traveling Partner. 😀 What a splendid day so far… I smile and sip my coffee, and get ready to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, Healthy Living, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Spring

The Quiet Time

March 28, 2023 //
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I’m enjoying the quiet moments before the work day begins. For about an hour I’ve been just sitting quietly, reflecting on this-n-that, mind adrift – it’s a favorite way to start my day slowly that can often result in a workday that feels like a weekend day, and a work week that moves purposefully toward the next weekend without agita, stress, or drama. It’s lovely. So, I’m sipping this decently good cup of coffee, breathing, and being. Not much else, really.

Spring is here. This morning I stepped out into a light misty rain, and felt the kiss of droplets on my cheeks without the sting of morning cold temperatures. The thermometer told me it was 44 degrees. Pleasant. I spent the short drive to the co-work space thinking about the young blueberry bushes that arrived just two days ago – they’ll replace the dying hedge we cut down last summer, and those unfortunate shrubs along the walk that I dislike. It’ll be really handy to have blueberries in the garden. 😀 I’ve got 6 bushes to plant, and 3 different varieties for good pollination and for disease resistance. Seems the wise long-term thinking…

…Thinking long-term, I’m expecting to get those blueberries into the ground this coming weekend, and getting the shrubs cut down and removed, and beds prepared, this week. I should stop by the local nursery for any needed soil amendments, and some blueberry-suitable mulch. I add that errand to my list for the week.

I sigh and sip my coffee contentedly. I love this quiet time, alone with my thoughts, uninterrupted. I breathe, exhale, relax. My heart is filled with love and enthusiasm, which is an enjoyable state of being. I sit with it awhile, thinking about my Traveling Partner, sleeping (I hope) at home. Beyond the windows, dawn begins to turn to day, and the white building across the street is a pale blue-gray that merges with the blue-gray of the dawn sky. The sun hasn’t yet risen. Another deep breath, and with this one I pull myself more upright, and give my posture and physical experience of self some attention. My pain today is a very commonplace “5 out of 10” – more or less “normal” for the season. I’ve already taken pain management steps, and there’s nothing more to do about it for now. I get up and stretch, anyway; Tuesdays are “long” in the sense that once the day begins, it’s more or less back-to-back meetings until late enough in the afternoon that I’m already thinking about calling it a day. I don’t even mind; most of my weekly meetings are on Tuesday. I can plan for that (and do). It’s convenient.

Before I went to the coast, my Traveling Partner (seeing my enthusiasm for making the shower steamers) sat me down at the computer with him and designed a simpler press (hoping for better finished results) than the inexpensive mooncake press I had purchased online. That one works pretty well, and creates a lovely steamer with a fancy very detailed top surface – but the result is unreliable and often doesn’t come out of the press cleanly. I had beefed about that a bit, and said I’d love a simple round puck with a flat surface. Boom! He designs one for me, and while I am away, he printed it on the 3D resin printer. (Wow!) I can’t believe I haven’t taken a picture of it yet… weird. (I definitely thought I had taken a picture of it…) That very day (that he designed the round press for me) he designed another that produces a hexagonal puck. So cool. He went a step further and added one additional design detail – the monogram with which I sign my paintings. The thought makes me smile so hard my face hurts. lol

One of the “Violet Forest” shower steamers, showing that I clearly need more practice getting the consistency and pressure just right. lol

The new presses are much easier to use than the mooncake press is, and they both produce an appealing result. I definitely need more practice getting the mix just right, and getting the press filled to just the right amount (about 50g), using the right pressure, and building a reliable process that is efficient. I think I’ve got a recipe I like sufficiently well to just keep at it with the same recipe, varying the fragrances and colors for fun. I greatly enjoy using the shower steamers I make; they are to showers what bubble bath is to a hot bath. 😀 Pure delightful luxury.

Another breath. I exhale, relax, and look at the time. The morning is now more blue than gray, and the clock says the work day is due to begin in mere minutes. I guess it’s time to begin again. lol I guess I’m even ready for it. I smile and finish my coffee.

Feels good to be taking better care of the woman in the mirror.

Feels good to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, art and the artist, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, Spring, The Art of Being

Getting Real About the Real-Real

March 18, 2023 //
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It’s an okay morning. Saturday. Good cup of coffee. Had a pleasant frosty-morning walk through bare wintry vineyards as the sun rose, this morning. Returned home once my Traveling Partner pinged me that he was awake and starting his day. Could be that was a mistake (in timing)… I rushed home rather eagerly, to enjoy the day with my partner, and I may have been working from expectations and assumptions that were a poor fit to the reality of the morning.

I got home and he was just making his first cup of coffee, immersed in the emotional experience of being angry about the condition in which parts had arrived, and the likelihood that the parts he had ordered are not in any way actually usable for the order he is working on. His anger over the situation seems reasonable. He shares his feelings. He shows me the parts. His anger is evident, and he is actively working through it. (The way out is through…and…we become what we practice. Hold that thought.)

…I have difficulties with anger, particularly the expressed anger of male human beings with whom I am in a relationship (it feels uniquely terrifying and threatening even when only expressed verbally), and it makes it sometimes very difficult to endure the experience of being in proximity to that visceral emotional experience in the moment… It could be that this alone makes me potentially unsuitable for long-term partnership. I find myself thinking about that today. Today, my partner explicitly challenged my overall value as his partner due to my “lack of ability to be emotionally supportive”.

My sense of things is that I listened with consideration, compassion, and care for some length of time while he vented his feelings (my watch suggests about 40 minutes, but I don’t think that matters as much as that he didn’t feel supported). Maybe I don’t really understand what my partner needs from me when he’s angry about something? Listening doesn’t seem to be it. Even listening deeply and offering support, or asking how I can be helpful (if I can at all), doesn’t seem to meet the need. Commiserating with his position doesn’t seem to meet the need, and often seems to prolong the intensity of the emotional storm. Attempting to “be helpful” or offer any “troubleshooting” perspective is usually unwelcome (and most of the time I don’t have the specific expertise to offer that in the first place). It’s often been my experience that eventually, however supportive I am seeking to be, one common outcome is that at some point, the anger that is “not about me”… becomes about me. Terrifying, even in a relationship where there has never been any violence. The anger feels threatening. This is a byproduct of violence-related trauma in prior relationships. Decades later, I’m still struggling with this. It seems unfair to my current (or future) partner(s).

When a person with PTSD embarks on making a relationship with another human being who also has PTSD (or similar concerns), there are some additional complications that sometimes make living well and harmoniously together more than a little difficult to do successfully – and it’s less than ideally easy, no matter how much we may love each other. Sometimes love is not enough. Maybe that seems obvious? It probably should be obvious. I sit with that thought for a few minutes, uncertain what it is really telling me. Maybe nothing new. I mean… I know, right? It’s hard sometimes. (“This too will pass.”)

…Resilience is a measure of our ability to “bounce back” from stress…

Using meditation and mindfulness practices is one means of building improved resilience. Resilience lets me “bounce back” from stress more easily, and allows for greater “ease” in dealing with stress in the moment. Resilience supports improved intimacy. Resilience along with non-attachment is a good means of learning not to take things personally. Resilience makes some practices produce better results – “listening deeply” can be incredibly difficult and emotionally draining without resilience, for example. Resilience is like a glass of water, though; once the glass is emptied, no amounting of drinking from it will result in slaking thirst. I’ve got to refill the glass. (It’s a wise practice to keep it “topped off”, too; that’s where self-care comes in.)

G’damn, I really need some time away to invest in my own wellness and resilience. Quiet time taking care of the woman in the mirror for a few days, without any other agenda or competing workload. My resilience is depleted. Even “doing my best” is not enough right now – I feel comfortable acknowledging that. Can’t efficiently move forward from one place to another if I don’t recognize where I am right now – and start there. In this particular instance, it is less about physical fatigue than emotional and cognitive fatigue. I’m “brain tired”. I’ve been lax about my meditation practice, and it’s clear how much that does matter. I’ve taken on too much, and can’t seem to dig out in order to get to the practices and experiences that support my wellness; I’m scrambling just to get “all the other shit” done, that seems to have been given a higher priority than my emotional wellness or mental health. I can’t blame anyone else; it’s called “self-care” for a reason. I’ve been giving 100% of what I have to offer to work, to the household, to my partner, and not leaving much “left over” to take care of myself.

I find myself wondering if I would do well to leave for the coast a day earlier. It would probably be good for me. Probably not good for my partner who has been missing me, and potentially feeling un-cared for and lacking an adequate portion of my undivided attention and emotional support. I’ve only got the same 24 hours in a day that everyone else has – and figuring out how to parcel that out is sometimes difficult. I could do better. Seems like everyone needs a piece of me… and the only person who seems ready to yield what they feel is their “due” is… me. Fuck. That’s how I get into this quagmire of cognitive fatigue and emotional fragility in the first place, though. Taking care of myself really needs to be a non-negotiable – at work, at home, and in life, generally. I could do better.

…When I take better care of myself, not only is there “more in my glass” to share with others, the glass even gets bigger and holds still more… and I know this…

We become what we practice. When I practice calm, I become calmer. When I practice good self-care, I become cared-for, resilient, and confident in my worth. When I practice deep listening, I become a better listener more able to “be there” for others. Understanding this is important. It is true of unpleasant emotions, too. If I “practice” losing my shit in a time of stress, I become more prone to being volatile. If I “practice” anger by way of confrontation, venting, or tantrums, I become an angrier person less able to manage that intense emotion appropriately. True for all of us; we become what we practice. How do I become the woman – the person – I most want to be? Sounds like I need to practice being her …and when I fall short? I need to begin again.

I finish my coffee. Breathe. Exhale. Relax. Begin planning the packing and tasks needed to prepare for my trip to the coast. I remind myself to take time to meditate, to check my blood pressure, to stay on time with my medications. It’s a lot to keep track of some days, but the pay off is worth it; I feel better, enjoy my life more, and I am more able to be there for my partner when he needs me. I’ve just got to do the verbs.

Time to begin again. Again. It’s slow going, sometimes, but I do become what I practice.

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, health, Healthy Living, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Spring, The Art of Being, The Big 5, winter, women
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