Archives for category: Roses
« Older Entries
Newer Entries »

Do You Have Any Change?

August 10, 2013 //
3

It’s a quiet Saturday morning, following on the heels of many busy days, rich with family and conversation and planning, doing, and being. Busy. I am delighted, amused, and inspired, hanging out with my 20-year-old stepson and his love.  Yesterday we three explored a small piece of the world together.

One small piece of our amazing world: The International Rose Test Garden in Portland, Oregon.

One small piece of our amazing world: The International Rose Test Garden in Portland, Oregon.

It was a lovely good time and we headed for home quite exhausted from the day’s adventures. I ended the day satisfied and happy, and slept deeply through the night.  (Maybe a good night’s sleep is about really exerting myself during the preceding day? lol)

I woke unexpectedly, just after 5 am,  from realistic dreaming about very surreal things (a neon green talking coffee can arguing gender politics with a painted porcelain thimble can’t be a real thing, right?). I woke feeling okay, I think, but as I attempted to return to sleep, I found myself becoming progressively more discontent, even angry.  It began to build. I tossed and turned frustratedly. I wept a handful of pointless tears.  Around six I gave up on sleep and got up for coffee. A good latte, a beautiful sunrise, and some quiet time with my thoughts really made a difference, too, for a change.  I find myself, now, in a pretty good place. The core notion that was driving my anger is based on a real need – and I am still learning about dealing with my needs well, and simply.  My challenges in that area sometimes result in a tiny window of opportunity to understand myself being missed in the storm of developing emotions. It’s a nice change for me that this morning went differently – that I made different choices, and am experiencing a more satisfactory outcome. (Yay me!)

Interestingly, having identified the need, I am also having to face the inconvenient present-day reality that for now, there isn’t much in the way of a solution.  Time is what it is. Schedules are what they are. There simply are not enough hours in the day, or good opportunities, for me to enjoy predictable regular whole days one on one with either of my partners. Ever. It’s painful for me, and saddens me, because I also don’t have predictable regular whole days of time to myself, either. I want and need both. This isn’t really a type of need where compromise proves wholly satisfying, for me – I mean, I say ‘whole days’, for instance, and I’d likely find even 4-6 hours enough to meet most needs… and there just aren’t many opportunities for such, and when they come up, they are often last minute, unplanned, and in no way regular or predictable. lol. Sometimes being a grown up sucks. Having a tantrum over time doesn’t actually meet real needs or provide long-term satisfaction, nor does it increase the amount of available time in a day – quite the contrary.  So…there are still 24 hours in a day (and I still try to sleep for about 8 of those when I can), I still spend 45 of them (or a more) away from home, and when the weekend comes around, we all want to be chilling at home, together. It is what it is.  I am 50 though, and life has put a lot of curriculum in front of me for contemplation – and one thing I have learned is that circumstances change, and what feels like ‘always’, ‘never’, or ‘forever’ right now, may be as rare and ephemeral as a soap bubble a few days, weeks or months down the road. So… I think I’ll have another excellent latte, and consider the painting-in-progress – next steps to plan – and the sweet inspiration to spend the rest of the summer painting roses, and simply enjoy the loveliness of a beautiful day. 😀

I do love a quiet morning. 😀

So much beauty...so little time.

So much beauty…so little time.

Tags , , , , , , , ,
Categories Anxiety, Brain Injury, Free Will, gardening, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Roses, Summer

It’s Either Here or There

August 1, 2013 //
2

It’s a lovely overcast Thursday, a chill morning of pleasantries and catching up – we have family visiting from afar. 😀  A quick trip to the local market for breakfast sorts of provisions of more variety than we usually keep on hand makes the morning feel special. I love fresh figs, English muffins, hot lattes, Greek yogurt…and the charming company of our visiting son and his girlfriend and the fun of seeing the world anew, through their eyes.  What a good day so far.

Even the garden seems particularly lovely, in passing, as I go to and from the store.

'Graham Thomas' on an overcast summer morning.

‘Graham Thomas’ on an overcast summer morning.

The ordinary joys of life and love, of family and business, of the world and of the home; today these are more than enough, they are substantial and precious.

Tomorrow is Friday; therapy, errands, and more visiting with family. It’s going to be an eventful weekend and I’m eager to live it. There may be very few opportunities to write with any attention…I expect I’ll likely find myself wondering where the days have gone by Monday morning, and whether I can manage a few minutes to write over my lunch, in the office, during the week. lol

Observing life with pleasure, and not feeling much chaos and damage…let’s see where the weekend takes me!

Tags , , , , , ,
Categories Anxiety, Brain Injury, gardening, Healthy Living, Love, Mindfulness, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Roses, Summer

And a Side of Fail Sauce, Please

July 13, 2013 //
2

Let me get what is true and obvious out of the way, first, as an effort to find clarity; it is a lovely summer Saturday, sunny and mild.

"Sheer Bliss", and a breezy, sunny Saturday.

“Sheer Bliss”, and a breezy, sunny Saturday.

It is also pretty disappointing as Saturdays go, at least for now. If it just sucked from the moment I woke, I think it would be less bothersome that it sucks right now. Unfortunately for my present mood, the morning was lovely, and I developed expectations of how great a day it could turn out to be. It fell apart unexpectedly, largely due to the vagaries of the human primate experience in the close quarters of self-imposed captivity, hemmed in by walls and windows and expectations and needs. Because I’m not very comfortable with dealing with my own anger – or frustration or disappointment – with some sort of genuinely adult skill and graciousness, I’ve ended up being more than a little discontent in general, disconnected, and finding little pleasure things I could be doing instead; they entirely lack any satisfaction or enjoyment for me just  now. That’s enough to render the moment complete suckage, for the time being. Very human, and very reflective of a lifetime of following the lead of my emotions as if they were a powerful current with irresistible pull.

I am returning to my ‘now’ again and again, taking a breath, and putting ‘things’ on pause to feel the moment, hoping to find some small pleasure or delight in it. I mean, seriously? For fuck’s sake – there are easily a million people in the world right now without enough to eat, without a safe haven from a storm, or respite from war, or a secure home to live in, or affordable medical care, or the simple decency of being accepted by their community…all I’ve got to bitch about is that my Saturday isn’t as pleasant as I’d prefer? It’s not exactly a global crisis, is it? I can do better than this.

Still…sand in my oyster. This has every potential to be an awesome Saturday, full of laughs and good fun with people who matter to me. How do I create a pearl? (I find myself contemplating the possibility of a ribald ‘pearl necklace’ joke of some kind here, but come up empty-handed. lol > sense of humor still intact)

So…

…It takes a few moments (ha! sometimes much longer) to write one of these – at least it does for me – and it is now quite some time later than it was when I started. I mention it because over the few minutes writing, feet up on the ottoman, toes warmed by the sunlight pouring in through the skylight, the soothing trickling of aquarium noises, and the bump of bass in the background, I am finding myself slowly letting go of my anger, finding a more compassionate perspective to embrace, and time begins to slow down…the day is still ahead of me.  My day. I can do a lot with that. I can take care of me.

 

Tags , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Brain Injury, Free Will, gardening, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Menopause, Mindfulness, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Roses, Summer, Words

An Unwelcome Presence

July 2, 2013 //
6

I am a woman of few words, this morning. I woke ahead of the alarm – no surprise – but I woke gripped in a state of anxiety that was…remarkable, only I don’t have adequate words to describe it at all.  It felt rather like this…

"Anxiety" 2011

“Anxiety” 2011

It wasn’t a pleasant feeling. I could barely breath, and for the first few minutes of ‘consciousness’ it entirely commanded my attention and controlled my experience. I was nearly overwhelmed by panic at the momentary sensation accompanied by the thought “how can I take a few deep breaths when I am unable to breath??” and the vague urge to claw at the walls, the air, my flesh… anything… to find some way to make it stop. I was on the edging of screaming with terror… and there was just nothing at all ‘wrong’.  I didn’t even have a recollection of being awakened by a noise, or having bad dreams. I simply woke – anxious.

As difficult as it seemed in the moment, I kept returning to the task of taking a couple deep relaxed breaths, full and easy and slow, committing to that and nothing more was itself an exercise in calming myself. I found a calm place within myself, and eventually put my feet on the floor, and got on with the day.  A latte later and those anxious moments were a dim memory. Meditating first thing is huge on a morning like this one. Watering the summer garden before the sun rises beyond the horizon is as good for me as it is for the roses, and the seedlings in the greenhouse, and those precious moments connected with the earth and life beyond my own limited experience helped me get centered and find serenity.  I’m even having a good day.

Is this really me? Did I wake that way, and still find my way here? How extraordinary…how precious…

Tags , , , , , , , ,
Categories Anxiety, Art, Brain Injury, Free Will, gardening, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Roses

Summer Heat, Summer Memories

July 1, 2013 //
1

It was a hot – and delightful – weekend. It was a hot Monday morning. It looks to be a hot week, all week long.

One possible consequence of my TBI is my poor memory. I wrote rather a lot about my experience with memory, just now… and read it…and suddenly found myself rather distressingly aware of how vulnerable I sometimes make myself because of another consequence of my TBI… ‘disinhibition’. (Sometimes referred to as ‘over-sharing’, by people who would rather I didn’t. lol.) I am learning a lot about ‘taking care of me’ – and one of the things I am learning to do is make more appropriate decisions about what I do/don’t disclose, and how, and to whom, and in what detail…so, instead of a lot of words about memory, and how my memory is impaired, and what it means to me in every day life…fewer words, less over-share, hopefully still managing worthy content.

I have memory on my mind this morning… because the morning started hot, and humid, like summer mornings of my childhood.  I walked in to work with my head flooded with recollections of … stuff.  The feel of the heat, the humidity, the summer sunshine finding its way into my eyes in spite of sunglasses, the smells of summer, the sounds… all of it combined to do whatever it is that causes ‘memories’ to be spontaneously evoked.  It is a very strange thing. Experience tells me that some of these unbidden memories may remain with me, if they drift undisturbed through my thoughts; examined, enjoyed, noticed… if I ‘hear them’.

Summer heat. Summer sunshine. Summer memories. Summer love… summer sorrow.

Summer sunshine, and in the distance thunder clouds on the horizon, invisible to the camera's eye.

Summer sunshine, and in the distance thunder clouds on the horizon, invisible to the camera’s eye.

Watering the summer garden brings me face to face with new flowers.

Watering the summer garden brings me face to face with new flowers.

Other flowers aren't new, but still lovely in the heat of morning.

Other flowers aren’t new, but still lovely in the heat of morning.

Yellows and purples defy criticism.

Yellows and purples defy criticism.

The hydrangea finally starts to bloom.

The hydrangea finally starts to bloom.

My spring garden has become my summer garden, in a few days of hot weather and blazing sunshine. I spent the weekend caring for roses, watering, potting seedlings, and attending to matters of the heart and spirit. I have moments when I feel so… whole. I am hesitant to look too closely, or to question it… it feels new… and a little delicate.  I’d like to put my feet up, in the garden, with an iced coffee and a leisurely morning ahead of me to consider it all… including these bits and pieces of memories and moments that drifted through my thoughts this morning. How much time is enough time to spend in the company of bees and butterflies on a summer day, and for how long will I remember it? Is reclaiming my memories a matter of happenstance, or of duplicating key background stimuli?

For now I am content to be, and to remember.

 

 

 

Tags , , , , , , ,
Categories Brain Injury, gardening, Healthy Living, Metaphors, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Roses, Words
« Older Entries
Newer Entries »