Archives for category: Post Traumatic Stress

Wow. What an amazing thing progress and growth can be. I overslept. Again. It’s not a big deal; I get up much earlier than my work schedule requires, carving out some time for me from among the quiet hours before dawn. No panic. No stress. No sky-rocketing blood pressure as I try to race through the essentials of the morning routine to ensure I still arrive at work on time. None of that. My lovely at-home partner called at a merry “Good morning!” as she headed down the hall. I woke, with a laugh and a groggy good morning back. I assumed I had forgotten my alarm. I simply went ahead and got up, taking the smile that remained of the laugh right along with me. It’s a lovely morning.

I’m appreciate of the additional sleep; I struggle with sleep disorders and insomnia. Beyond that, I appreciate how far I’ve come that a bit over oversleeping no longer launches me into overdrive, creating a level of panic and stress that will ride my ass hard all day long and leave me exhausted on the other side, cross, resentful, and generally with a nasty headache, and a worse temper.  It was my traveling partner who suggested (years ago) that I slow things down in the morning to eliminate that concern. I didn’t really buy into it at the time, but gave it a shot. It helped right away, and has been my practice ever since – but this? This morning right here? This is a real victory, because I am relaxed, still enjoying my morning, still taking care of me. Even if I choose to go into work a little later as a result, this works because I feel content, balanced, and rested. The value of rest, in my experience, can’t be overstated.

I’ve overslept twice in a month, though. It’s incredibly rare, and doesn’t feel ‘like me’. The last time was pure exhaustion, as I recall, and a short night. This morning I woke feeling sure I must have forgotten to set the alarm, but looking at it now I see that is not the case. This is how my wee alarm clock lets me know a battery change is due. Usually, that happens when I’m already awake, and simply notice it isn’t going off at the time it should be, when that time comes, and I’m sitting here noticing both the time and the lack of beeping. lol

A lesson learned, a successful application of new skills, a lovely day.

Yesterday was a lovely day, too.

Yesterday I felt restless all afternoon, my consciousness racing ahead of the moment eagerly wanting to get home to… paint.  I have already ‘moved in’ to the loft with my paints, canvas, easel, pens, paper, and inspiration. This is my first living arrangement with full-time painting space, and I spent a portion of the evening painting after work. It was lovely to just go to my easel, and have everything at the ready. The satisfaction and delight in being able to simply pick up a brush, and paint, and walk away to do something else without 2 hours of tearing it all down and cleaning up to ‘get the mess out of the way’ is indescribable. My partner seemed pleased that I chose to paint, and got some pictures and video. The whole thing feels like joy and wonder and… ‘just right’. I neglected my needs in this area far too long. I chose, again and again, move after move, relationship after relationship, to compromise on creative space such that I just didn’t have any. I made it my lowest priority. I made me my lowest priority. Fuck, it’s no wonder I’ve spent so much time mired in chaos and damage; I didn’t take the time I needed to work on it. I didn’t make my needs a non-negotiable priority for myself.

Even at 51, it’s never too late for a course correction, for a change of heart, for a new way. It’s never too late to choose to treat myself well.

Like summer flowers, our opportunities are not forever; like gardening, our efforts make room for more opportunities.

Like summer flowers, our opportunities are not forever; like gardening, our efforts make room for more opportunities.

This has been a wonderful week. I’ve enjoyed the closeness with my at-home partner. I miss my traveling partner, and I’m eager to welcome him home this weekend, for some longer time. Right now, in this moment, I feel content, I feel loved, and I feel supported and nurtured. It’s lovely. It may not last forever – in fact, based on experience, it likely won’t – but this is my experience now, and now is very good.  Now is enough.

“Enough”? Enough, indeed. I even have enough time this morning. I overslept, and still have enough time for an iced coffee, meditation, yoga, all the usual hygiene and grooming stuff…enough time for gratitude, enough time for love.

There's always time enough for love.

There’s always time enough for love.

When I was 18, and until I almost 40, I danced. I moved. I bounced. No good groove could hit my consciousness without resulting in the exquisitely free feeling of being able to move to it sweeping over me, and utterly lacking any self-consciousness in the matter, I danced. I am not a trained dancer. I haven’t ‘studied’ accepted forms of dance or movement. I grew up on Soul Train, and hanging out listening to dance-able tracks, hitting the clubs in my 20s as much for the experience of dancing, of losing myself in the experience, as anything else.  It isn’t something I talk about much now; I still grieve losing that spark.

I don’t know when it actually happened. At some point I just sort of ‘froze up’. Oh, I still let go and feel the freedom to move now and then, but something inside me now quickly identifies it and puts and end to that shit as soon as I’m aware of it. What killed the dancing? I usually point to the arthritis, but my arthritis set in back in the early 90s. It wasn’t until much later than I lost the will to dance, and I remember the very poignant moment I finally noticed it had died.  Odd that I mention it this morning? No. Not really.

Yesterday at work I was thinking about it. Thinking about movement. About dance. Contemplating why I prefer one sort of music over another, and realized it has a lot to do with that ‘urge to move’; even without actually following through, I love music that drives dance. There’s incredible power in that freedom to move expressively, to celebrate with utter freedom, to let go of convention and self-consciousness and be, in motion. It is a different meditation. I miss the strength of it. I found myself thinking I might benefit from some truly novel experience, a departure from my norms, a return to more primitive pleasure in movement…or…something.

My email alerted me that I had a message; my partners asking me if I am interested in attending an event… a festival… a ‘sacred dance’ festival. Wait…what? That couldn’t be any more different that what I’m generally doing any given day of the week if it had been crafted to be so. It struck me strangely that it speaks to directly to the heart of the chaos and damage, inviting me to come and stare into the face of whatever has kept me frozen for so long. My fingers eagerly type an enthusiastic ‘yes’ reply of some sort while my demons sit back, quite astonished and helpless. I am tickled by the strangeness of it, even now, smiling and wondering what may come of it.

Happening.

Happening.

Sacred dance has a long history with human primates. Native American Ghost Dancing.  Bharatanatyam of the Tamil Nadu. Sufi Dervishes. Circle dances are multi-cultural, existing in many places, times, and cultures. There’s more. There’s always more. There’s ‘So You Think You Can Dance’ – creating a stage for some amazing art in a very commercial way. There are still nightclubs, and in spite of the comedy about it, even ‘twerking‘ is ‘real’ dancing (there are even handy YouTube tutorials!). “Ecstatic Dance” movements, tribes, events, and communities exist; human beings dance.

I miss dancing. Arthritis or not, I want to be movement and rhythm again; I want to dance. I suppose diving headlong into sacred dance as a shared sacrament and celebration is taking a bigger than small step… It is, however, the step I am taking. I wonder where it leads?

Today is a good day to take another look in the mirror. Today is a good day to explore all my potential – even the uncomfortable bits. Today is a good day to change the world.

It is a lovely morning, following a great weekend. I could comfortably stop right there, this morning, and contentedly continue to meditate, or flip through images, or simply relax and watch fish swim. This, however, is time with myself I value, and taking this quiet time over my coffee and a few words nurtures something precious. I wonder for a moment about that idea, itself; do we each find some different little something to be the thing that fills our heart with a comfortable sense of who we are, or is it the same thing for each of us, only packaged differently? Perhaps both those things are true.

Details matter.

Details matter.

I spent a large portion of my thinking time yesterday considering how to arrange the space in the loft; we’ve made some different choices with regard to how we’re using some of our space. I’m going to have room to paint! Everyday painting. Any day painting. Room to work more slowly, and explore more details. Room to be more technical. Room to work large. Room to work, stop for a day, or a work week, and pick up the thread of a new painting and continue with it more fluidly, and with greater emotional integrity. Room to live actively in the headspace I’m creating in, surrounded by the work I’m doing. I’m so excited it is sometimes difficult to remain fully present and engaged in the moment, when some small detail occurs to me (‘Where will the aquarium go?’).

There are a lot of details, each a potential choice.  What experience will I choose to build?

There are a lot of details, each a potential choice. What experience will I choose to build?

This change won’t  happen over night; there are other relevant changes in progress, and some work involved. I love having this to anticipate – even in looking ahead to it, there is delight. I’m also not prone to rushing stuff like this; taking my time with it reduces the stress of the change itself, which is a big deal for me. So, for now I am contentedly planning the details of changes to come, measuring space, measuring things, and doing the math. I’m sitting there, in the space-that-will-be, meditating in the openness and light, and contemplating the aesthetic of it, and what will be functional and beautiful, without being costly or impractical. I am making the space my own, even now, without moving one item from its current location to another. My heart is moving in. Suddenly our house feels far more homelike to me, and to a degree that exceeds most home-like experiences I’ve had.

I realize I’m sitting here, rather puzzled; how did I not get how important this so clearly is to me? Why have I turned a blind eye, or actively undercut my needs here, time and again over-compromising on an important value? What a crappy way to treat myself! I shake it off with a deep breath and a smile; I’ve only just begun ‘the second half’, certainly there’s time enough to learn to treat myself better than that. There’s time to make other choices. There’s time to appreciate partners who recognize how much this meets my needs – and potentially their own, as well.

There is simple beauty if finding my way, however slowly.

There is simple beauty in finding my way, however slowly.

Today is a good day to make new choices. Today is a good day to embrace change mindfully and with a serene heart. Today is a good day to enjoy the moment. Today is a good day to do my best, simply because it is my best, and that is what I do. Today is a good day to change.

In life, sometimes the infernal beeping of some internal alarm just refuses to reset. In some cases that gets labeled ‘trauma’ or ‘post traumatic stress’ or ‘hormones’ or… well, you get the picture. Sometimes a name isn’t enough. Sometimes giving our baggage more detail, putting a face on it to face, isn’t enough either.

Baggage gets heavy if I won't put it down.

Baggage gets heavy if I won’t put it down.

Each time I’ve been on the brink, I’ve stood wobbling on the edge saturated in a breath-taking fear or despair that both holds me from actually falling, and prevents me from stepping away without a clear act of will.  There are choices to be made, actions to be taken, self to build, self to destroy in the process of rebuilding. Some times we get the job done without help. Sometimes we turn to books, therapy, structured reprogramming, prescription drugs, or religion; we’re primates, we’ll find another way.

Art...

Art…

...contemplating the beauty of the natural world around us...

…contemplating the beauty of the natural world around us…

...long walks through beautiful forests...

…long walks through beautiful forests…

...a meaningful conversation with a friend over coffee...

…a meaningful conversation with a friend over coffee…

...a good book.

… or a short vacation through a good book.

Personally, sometimes I find I need to ‘hit the reset button’; radically alter my approach completely, try something I hadn’t expected might have value. Every choice matters. Every small moment of illumination lights a step on the path I didn’t see ahead of me, before.

Today is a very good day to one small part of everything that matters so much. Today is a good day to change the world.

I got home from work last night numb from the neck up, figuratively speaking, although the sensation of it wasn’t far off. I was exhausted, having slept only about 22 hours in the number of days I’d typically sleep 40, and frequently interrupted, however briefly, throughout the week. By Thursday night I wasn’t really sleeping at all. I did manage a 90 minute nap, in the wee hours immediately preceding my alarm going off. Last night it was no effort to do some yoga, manage appropriate calories, have a shower and go to bed; I was on auto pilot at that point, and just following steps that had been planned and mentally rehearsed much earlier in the day. I slept deeply, and woke early – 4:00 am. I don’t know what woke me, perhaps I’d simply had sufficient rest. I tried to go back to sleep, but my brain was having none of that, and I found myself doing what I have so often found myself doing, awake in the darkness; I started thinking about what I want and don’t have, and what I loved that I now lack, the long-yearned-for unreachables, the wonders snatched from me by circumstance, the emotional hurts and betrayals large and small that are part of my (the) human experience – both those I have felt, and those I have delivered… and it’s probably no surprise that I started feeling anxious, discontent, sad, frustrated and near tears. There are still choices.

It isn’t easy. I just keep at it, though, because practicing meditation is changing my experience in a positive way over time; so I gave up on more sleep, and meditated. It helps. While I’m calm and centered and just being, there in the stillness before dawn, I become aware of how much physical pain I am in, too. I get up and do some yoga, slowly easing myself through the sequence that helps me loosen up each morning, and then on to some favorite poses that just feel good to me, and keep me present and engaged in the moment. That helps, too. Still finding myself feeling moody, and vaguely discontent and resentful, I take a couple deep calming breaths and instead of squashing down my feelings, I relaxed and let them evolve, and listened to what my heart might have to say about things. Just giving myself a moment to be okay with my experience, and my emotions helps, too, although this one is still more challenging as new practices go. I haven’t quite gotten the hang of it, so I practice rather carefully, and sometimes it feels a bit formulaic, as though I take each step quite separately, reading off a check list in my head.

IMAG2435

Practice results in incremental changes over time, each moment building our experience.

I realize that I’m carrying around some hurt over something small. I consider the importance I have chosen to place on emotional self-sufficiency, and ask myself different questions that I might once have asked. Instead of the frustrated angry ‘why me?’ sorts of questions, I take a moment to ask myself ‘what is the underlying value involved here?’ and ‘what is the unmet need seeking fulfillment in this moment?’ and ‘how can I reinforce good practices to ensure this need is well met, without relying on any emotional resources but my own?’ It’s proving to be a useful and effective approach for me.

It takes a change of perspective.

It takes a change of perspective.

 

In this case, the underlying value seemed to be one of The Big 5, Respect. Feeling disrespected, in this particular instance over the way I use language in conversation was more ‘disrespect’ with a small ‘d’, rather than ‘Disrespect’ with a big ‘D’; it just wasn’t ‘a deal breaker’, because it was over an aesthetic matter – and those are entirely unarguably personal preferences that no one can take from us. I needed, however, to feel appreciated with regard to the way I use language.  I made an espresso, sat down at my desk and caught up on my email, checked in with early bird friends, and friends in far away time zones. I chatted with people I hadn’t taken time for in a while, and savored the varied conversational styles of each. I didn’t start writing, here, until later in my morning than is typical, and by the time I did I was in a completely different head space.  I suspect I am writing very differently than I might had I simply begun to write in the minutes sometime after I woke at 4:00 am.

IMAG2422

I have no relevant caption for this, I just like this picture.

I’ll be honest, I do feel better  – but there are things in my life I’m not satisfied with, and I’ve got things to work on as a human being. I struggle with some baggage, and I make mistakes that hurt people I love. Sometimes I’m unpleasant to be around when I’m in pain, or my hormones are messing with me. Sometimes I don’t treat people as well as I mean to, or as well as I want to. I’m not as strong as I may appear. I feel sad and disappointed with myself when I ‘don’t get things right’ – and some of my expectations and demands of myself are clearly not reasonable.

Sometimes finding my way is as simple as a good night’s sleep, sometimes it is much more complicated than that.  I know I am loved, and I’m learning to accept that it is most important that in that feeling of being loved, I must include my own voice, and with real enthusiasm and affection. This morning, progress is enough.