I am reflecting on my “sense of self”, which I suppose is taking “self-reflection” to a very meta place. Definingly self-referential, and a bit like a funhouse mirror; I am lost in reflections and contemplating self-portraits I have done over time, most of them quite abstract. A friend – one of my dearest friends and among my most enduring friendships – reached out and asked to commission from me a self-portrait. An interesting commission, and I accepted it. I don’t know where this path will lead. Perhaps I am overdue to look at myself (and my life) through the lens of my own camera, my hand holding the brush poised over my own canvas? I am standing in a new place, seeing the world and my life through different perspective in a unique moment. I am at my most experienced, my most learned, my most positive – and my most fortunate. I am infused with love and a joy for living. This is not a place I’ve stood life for very long, ever, and here I stand – content and comfortable with myself. So. There it is.
The sky is still blue.
I sip my coffee and think thoughts of self. Who am I, now? Where is this path leading me? Who do I most want to be? How did I get here? I breathe, exhale, and relax. I think about colors, and I think about sunrises, sunsets, and the ticking of the clock. I think about my garden, and this sunny morning; I’ve planted seeds. What flowers will bloom, now? The morning sky is a delicate azure blue, again this morning. Same view, new day – new moment to be this human being. I think my thoughts awhile longer. There’s only so much time for that, and I enjoy it while it lasts. The clock is always ticking.
Whether or not whatever is causing our stress and anxiety is “real” – the stress itself, the actual anxiety is real. Strange how that works.
I sneeze suddenly and dart across the room to the corner where I’ve tucked my handbag, and scramble frantically through the contents looking for the travel pack of tissues I know is there somewhere. Damn it! Another sneeze, and now my nose is running like crazy and I dread finding myself covered in snot. I continue scrambling through the contents of my handbag a bit panicked, finally finding the tissues after I basically dump the contents onto the top of the printer in the corner. I return to my desk, feeling relieved, then my eye falls on an actual box of tissues right there on my damned desk, unnoticed, placed there by the cleaning crew over the weekend. I sigh, amused and frustrated, and astonished at the intensity of my absolutely pointless moment of stress. The stress was real. The cause of it wasn’t real at all; it was based on a misperception, a misunderstanding, an error in thinking.
“Anxiety” 10″ x 14″ – and she feels much bigger than that, generally.
…That’s often how stress and anxiety work; we respond to something in our thoughts or perceived experience without regard to the actual factual basis of the circumstances, and the stress builds so quickly we fail to “fact check” what’s going on around us…
I take a moment to let renewed calm sink in. I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s a new moment. I begin again.
My Traveling Partner had asked me (some time ago) to help with some paperwork. I have been dreading doing it, not because it’s actually all that big a deal, but because… stress. My own medical trauma and difficulties with some sorts of paperwork has been getting in the way of helping him out. He’s got his own challenges and anxiety to do with it, but it’s mostly been about the practical difficulties with keyboarding for long enough to get it done. He needs my help. I am happy to provide it – in the abstract – but the reality of the stress it has been causing me flared up yesterday afternoon, and I found myself in a moment of headache and pain and stressful tears over… mostly nothing. It’s just not that big a deal. It collided with my awareness of the upcoming busy Tuesday calendar (he has a couple of appointments to get to, and needs help getting to those) and my upcoming time off (which appears now to need to include Tuesday) and my headache, and I just… couldn’t get my head around all of it calmly. I found myself facing a huge feeling of pressure and imminent requirement to get it all done. Funny – not one detail of any of it is all that big a deal, so… why all the stress and agita? Why the anxiety? What the actual fuck, eh?
Humans being human. This morning it doesn’t look like all that big a deal. I look over the provided checklist for the paperwork, it’s not all that bothersome, actually. The appointments tomorrow? The Anxious Adventurer stepped up, agreeing to take his father to those appointments. I took it in stride this morning when it turned out I also have an appointment, scheduled in between my Traveling Partner’s appointments, and which would have prevented me from taking him to both of his, regardless. Busy day. The paperwork? It’s just paperwork. Needs to be done so it can join a queue of other paperwork submitted by other human beings to be considered by still other human beings at some considerably later date. Just not that big a deal, I guess. But the stresswas real. That’s an important detail; managing that stress was its own thing, with its own needs and its own steps. A real concern, for a real human being – and I’m grateful that my Traveling Partner recognized the need ahead of my own acknowledgement of my stress (which was escalating and confounding my ability to reason), and helped me address it, enabling me to more easily self-soothe, and get myself back on track. No tantrum, no meltdown. The headache lingered through the evening, but even that wasn’t that big a deal once the stress had been managed. Stress complicates everything by clouding our comprehension and judgment, making everything look like a bigger deal than it may actually be.
This morning, I breathe, exhale, and relax. I slept well and deeply last night – I clearly needed the rest. I feel like my body (and mind) have finally made the adjustment to the change to the clocks (good grief I wish we’d stop doing that). I feel more settled and comfortable in my skin. Okay for most values of “okay”, and ready for a new day (and week). The Equinox is coming, and so is my time off. It’ll be nice to have a few relaxed days painting, drinking coffee, driving beautiful roads to lovely destinations, and doing some painting. It is time planned to be very low stress. I hope it actually turns out that way, although the future is not written, and I have no way to know what obstacles may be on the path ahead. lol It’s a very human experience.
I’d like to spend a little time in the garden, too. So much of my experience in life is based on what I’ve planted, what I tend to. I think awhile about my garden as a metaphor… there are weeds to pull, seedlings to nurture, and a harvest in the future. For now? It’s time to begin, again.
My garden is a special place for me – and a useful metaphor.
Some thoughts about things to do with being, becoming, and connecting with people (that I’ve mostly learned the hard way):
Chronic negativity isn’t “humor”, nor is it a useful way to connect.
An uncomfortable forced laugh is less engaging than authenticity, even when that means admitting “I don’t get it”.
Constantly complaining about common experiences doesn’t make a person sound cool, edgy, worldly or sophisticated.
I haven’t been everywhere. I haven’t done everything. I don’t know all there is to know about every topic of conversation.
It’s a safe bet that I have something to learn, and that listening may reveal things I don’t know.
A lot of things aren’t about me at all. Some experiences aren’t for me. I won’t be welcome in every space. This isn’t something that needs to be “fixed”.
Being annoying results in being alone. A lot. (And not missed even a little bit.) It’s just not fun to be around – definitely behavior to be avoided.
Consideration is often overlooked and very underrated, and when practiced consistently and sincerely can seem like a super power.
Manners still matter.
Intimidation is a “cheat code” in life, and although people around someone who practices intimidation may be willing to exploit that behavior, they don’t like the person who behaves that way, except maybe in spite of it.
Good character has lasting value and creates a stable foundation in relationships.
Some people are mired in their anger (it has become a practice more than an emotion), taking that personally is neither healthy nor helpful. Being that person is a poor choice with lasting consequences.
Hard decisions can slow me down. It’s worth considering other opinions and new options. Ultimately the choices I make are mine, and so are the consequences. It helps to ask questions and reflect on the answers.
Learning is a practice. Self-care is a practice. Listening is a practice. Consideration is a practice. Respect is a practice. Authenticity is a practice. It’s all practice. There are verbs involved. Work. Effort. Self-reflection. Commitment. Getting anywhere worth going happens in increments, over time.
We can choose change. We can choose to become the human being we most want to be. Ultimately we are responsible for who we are, and who we choose to become.
There are some seriously unpleasant, annoying people in the world. People who lack manners and consideration. People who are unkind, mean, petty, and (or) intimidating (sometimes for personal gain, sometimes purely as a matter of poor character). It’s worth doing my best not to be one of those people, and to do my best every day to be the person I most want to be. I’m not critizing you or telling you how to live, just sharing some of my own thoughts about my own life, things I’ve learned, things I’ve observed over time, things I still struggle with. Doing better today than I did yesterday isn’t easy; it takes work. Honest self-reflection. A willingness to change.
… Trust me, I’m not smug about any of this shit. I’m working my ass off to be the person I most want to be, to learn from my mistakes, and to do better today than I did yesterday – every day.
…
It was afternoon when I wrote those words. I was in pain. I slacked off some housekeeping in favor of self-care. Choices. Did it help? I don’t know. I got through another day, and held on to enough energy to cook a good meal. It was enough.
The darkness before dawn.
It’s a new day, now. I’m still in pain – I nearly always am. I’m not saying that to complain, and I’m not alone with that experience. Chronic pain is pretty common, actually. Learning to enjoy life in spite of it can be a pretty difficult journey (a lot of the really worthwhile things in life are difficult). My results vary.
I woke this morning already uncomfortable and in an unpleasant mood. No idea why, really. Maybe just dealing with pain has that result, sometimes. I feel cross with myself, with the world, with the seemingly endless list of shit that needs doing. I’m tired of all of it before I even get started…
I breathe, exhale, and relax, as I sit at the trailhead waiting for enough daylight to walk the trail easily. I don’t feel like walking in the dark this morning. I remind myself to let small shit go, and not to take things personally. I take my morning medication and sip my coffee and watch the moon set through the clouds.
When my mind wanders back to things that irritate me, I bring myself back to here, now, this moment. I make a point of practicing gratitude; it’s exceedingly hard for discontent and irritability to compete with gratitude, and I do have much to be grateful for. The internal resistance to letting my mood improve and allowing myself to enjoy a better experience is frustratingly persistent, but I keep at it. We become what we practice. It won’t always be easy to follow this path, but it is a choice available to me, and it’s the choice I make. My results vary, and there are verbs involved, but over time the outcome is predictably good.
Every day is a new beginning. My path is paved with my choices. The journey is the destination – and the clock is ticking. It’s time to begin again.
There’s no escaping “stupid” – it’s going to catch up with you, and you’re going to be that stupid person, at least now and then (I know this from experience). No exceptions. No escape. Stupid isn’t really about being “unintelligent” or “uneducated” or any particular cognitive difference or difficulty. So… What is “stupid” and why do I see it the way I do?
Stop assuming you know every-fucking-thing. You just don’t. I 100% promise you that this is true; you do not know everything, about anything. There is too much to know. However smart you think you are, you are less smart than that. (Before you smugly assume I’m talking to that person over there that you think should find this relevant? I’m talking to you. Work on you. Let them work on them. I’ll work on me. If we’re all working on minimizing our own risk of stupidity, we may actually get somewhere.)
…So…
What can save you (or me, or anyone) from stupidity? It’s a good question, and I may have a helpful thought on that, though I hesitate to call it “the answer” (or even “an answer”). Curiosity. Curiosity, observation, and an openness to a “growth mindset” is a good path to avoiding the pitfalls of stupidity. (Assumptions are a shortcut directly to maxing out your stupidity.) There’s an article about that here, from the Harvard Business School. It has a handy graphic in it:
Seriously. Don’t add to the stupid people in the world – there are already way too many. Sooner or later, stupid will catch up to you now and then, but for fucks’ sake don’t chase it. Pursue a growth mindset. Be a student of life – yes, and even in your own “area of expertise” whatever that may be. I promise you there is always more to learn. Stupid people are supremely annoying to have to deal with. Try not to be one of those.
Why am I writing about this today? Well… because there are a surplus of stupid people doing stupid things, and we’re all very much at risk right now of having front row seats to the decline of civilization as a direct result of stupid people being given actual power. Quite terrifying, really, and I kind of hope that maybe by saying it out loud, someone will think about it with some measure of care and do the needful to reduce their own stupidity, thereby improving humanity’s chance of survival in some small way… (wishful thinking probalby; if you’re stupid you won’t think any of this applies to you, however much it may).
So… are you ready to begin again? Ready to face your next challenge with curiosity, a growth mindset, prepared to learn, and willing to listen? It’s time to take that next step forward… the clock is ticking.
Grief has its own time, its way of guiding us down a path. It’s not always obvious that the way out is through. Yesterday I took time to really grieve the loss of my Dear Friend, with my whole heart and nothing else on my mind. I needed that. Somewhere along the way I found my peace with it. I still miss her, sure, I always will. That’s appropriate. She was a good friend and our friendship endured almost thirty years of growth and change and even the break-up of my relationship with her first born.
The crocuses have begun to bloom.
I got home at a decent hour. Made my Traveling Partner a late lunch. Got a little gardening done. Evening came and dinner was a pleasant family affair, just the three of us, nothing fancy. My beloved had been busy with something in the shop that clearly had his attention. It’s easy to respect that; I’m delighted to see him on his feet and productive again.
As evening closed in on bedtime, my beloved came to me with a gift. A beautiful lithophane of a wild rose, framed in a light-box, originally (long ago) planned to be a gift for my Dear Friend. It was one of the first CNC projects started in my Traveling Partner’s shop, but had proved to be more complicated than originally expected as designed, and then circumstances pushed it to the side, unfinished. Time passed. Too much time passed, the opportunity to give the gift was lost.
I loved the lithophane more as a thing he was making than the potential gift it represented. I had taken the photo, a favorite picture of a rose. The interest in lithophanes as an art form was mine, too. The potential to be a gift was a way to see the thing done; it felt too complicated and frivolous to just ask for such a thing. So much work involved. Here it was, in his hands, finished, his gift to me to help heal my heart, a fitting moment of closure to a year of grief, this gift that began as an idea of a gift for a dear friend, becoming a gift for me. A demonstration of my Partner’s enduring love. I hadn’t expected it. I wept tears of joy and love and the day felt complete in a way I hadn’t expected it could.
I know my partner felt his own grief and regret that he’d never finished the lithophane, most particularly that he hadn’t finished it in time to give it to my Dear Friend. She’d have loved it, I’m sure; she loved every gift I gave her, and especially those that he had made for her. It would have joined the happy clutter of the many little things she didn’t have room for, along with paintings I’d given her over the years (which have now come back to me). I hope my beloved found his own peace in finishing the lithophane. I know I’ll cherish it always.
I know just where I’ll put it.
Grief has its own way, and follows its own path. Mine led me to peace. Now it’s time to begin again. I wonder where this path leads?
Evening Light 