Archives for category: Sleepless Nights

I got moved into my new place over the Memorial Day weekend. Movers came and went, and my travelling partner gave me a hand on moving day by taking a look around the house and spotting some things I missed when I carefully sifted through a shared household of more than two years, attempting to gently extricate myself and my household goods from the life I would be leaving behind. All that remains is to move my aquarium later this week. I am surprised at how much I miss my fish.

There was little sadness to it for me; it was a long time coming. I need space to paint, uninterrupted time to write and to meditate, and prefer to live in an environment of reciprocal courtesy, consideration, and shared values – or alone. I don’t cohabitate easily with others, and I am pleased to be at a place in life where choosing not to is quite acceptable.  I handled most of the move entirely alone, aside from the movers – that was eerie, and by far the most disturbing thing about the move was the peculiar way the household withdrew from me in the days prior to moving day. Aside from noticing it, though, there really wasn’t time to invest in that experience emotionally. There was too much to do to allow myself to be distracted by emotional bullshit or games.

In the nights leading up to moving day my sleep became disturbed and restless. Fatigue was a probable culprit in the few emotional moments I did struggle with on moving day. I’m still not sleeping deeply, or through the night, yet. It may be some time before I get to that place; there are new shadows, and new noises, and in the dim of night the shapes of things are no longer familiar. I’ve stubbed my toes several times, and my shins are black and blue from walking into things that are not where I expect them to be. I am in familiar territory here, and this will pass as my implicit memory of my living space improves over time. I am at least getting the rest I need, nightly, and I am not anxious when I am wakeful.

Simple beauty

Wild roses along a new path.

So…here I am…in my wee home, surrounded by paintings not yet hung, and silence – well, at least right now it is very still and quiet. It is just past 4:00 am, and the loudest thing I hear is my tinnitus. I woke around 2:30 am. Meditation didn’t ease me back to sleep. I am in pain, and although yoga helped relax me, and ease the pain, it did nothing to improve the odds of going back to sleep, tonight. I tried another strategy or two or three…and laughed out loud in the darkness when I realized that there was no chance getting up would disturb anyone else, now. 🙂 One luxury of living alone; my restless nights don’t mean a restless night for anyone else.

With so many things about living alone, so far, it is the ease that stands out. I have come too far to make assumptions that I will remain in a state of continuous contentment, or that I will never feel lonely, insecure or fearful. I have no expectation of perfect uninterrupted delight, or heightened satisfaction in all things. Assumptions and expectations hold so much potential to wreck a good experience, or to mislead me. I am content, for now, with simply being, and taking time to sort out who I am, and what I want and need from my experience of myself. I am enjoying the luxury of living alone, and I do so knowing I am quite human – there will be dark days, moments of sadness and doubt, and I will surely cry tears that I don’t see coming, sooner or later. I’m okay right now, though.

There is still a lot to sort out to get my new place in shape to paint without making a mess of things – and I’m eager to be painting again. Now that the move itself is behind me, it’s time to figure out new routines, and new self-care timing. Many of the cues and reminders I have counted on have been associated with shared experiences, or the behavior and activity of others. Hot flashes this morning remind me that I will have to rely on myself much more…and I obviously overlooked my hormones last night. I pause to drink water, take medication, and set calendar reminders and alarms. One miss is a mistake, and oversight – missing regularly, or chronically, would be a choice. Yep. There are still verbs involved.

I don’t enjoy living with most people, my traveling partner is a rare exception and I definitely miss him, often. I realized some time over the weekend, as I unpacked so many things that matter to me…I’d been missing me for a long while, too, and I am very much enjoying living with me, now. Right now, it is enough. 🙂

Sometimes the least familiar path is most promising.

Sometimes the least familiar path is most promising.

My coffee this morning is less appealing than most mornings. I slept poorly, when I slept last night, at all. I woke feeling groggy and stiff, and reaching for the alarm in slow motion. It seemed to beep an infernally long time. I started to fuss at myself about each detail that felt irksome, or disappointing, a choice that holds the potential to derail both the morning and the day, given an opportunity to do so.

I considered basic needs, instead, and the difference between wants and needs – real needs, basic needs. Is a bad cup of coffee actually such a big deal? Is having a really first-rate cup of coffee in the morning a ‘need’? I do enjoy it. It’s a high priority in the morning to have coffee, both for the ritual and routine of it, and for the pleasantness of the warmth of the cup in my hand. Does having that moment rise to the level of a ‘basic need’? Hardly. Does it, however, ‘meet needs’? Sure. Does my rather average, almost actually bad cup of coffee this morning meet my needs? It does.

If the need being gratified by my cup of coffee in the morning can be so easily gratified even by a bad cup of coffee, and if having a cup of coffee is not, itself, a ‘need’…what is the underlying need met by my cup of coffee in the morning?

The flowers may be lovely, but life's needs must be met before they blossom.

The flowers may be lovely, but life’s needs must be met before they blossom.

What is a ‘basic need’? Without checking references at all, I define ‘basic need’ myself as those needs that, left unmet, result in poor emotional or physical health, perhaps worsening until death may be an outcome. I mean…that’s the definition I tend to force myself to accept in difficult times, when a lot of other needs are unmet; it helps me get by until better times to tell myself I ‘have everything I really need to survive’. Is this extremely short list (food, water, sleep) really all there is to ‘basic needs’? I don’t really think so, myself, because those survival basics don’t do more than offer the most basic opportunity to wake up again to try another day. If I want to thrive, rather than simply survive, my list of ‘basic needs’ expands a bit to include things like shelter, appropriate clothing, sex, acknowledgment and internet connectivity (hey, it’s my list! lol). It gets complicated [for me] to understand, for example, that while I genuinely do see sex as a ‘basic need’ as an adult…my need doesn’t impose a demand on anyone else. That may be true of all needs, actually. My own individual needs do not constitute a demand or obligation on any one other human being, unless we share a specific contract – like the one human beings share with each other in marriage, or that we share as a society with our government. An interesting thought on a Friday that quickly takes me to the question ‘What do I feel obligated to do for my fellow human beings to ensure their basic needs are met, and what more can I do to build a world where we all see mere survival as an unacceptable minimum standard of life for humanity?”

Subjectively, I need this cup of coffee in the morning… It’s clearly not a ‘basic need’ in any sense. (I’m no expert, these are simply my own musings about needs, and your results – and opinion – may vary.) I go to great lengths to ensure I have it, however, and the feeling of having it satisfies in the way feeling a basic need met also satisfies. What’s up with that? I’m back to ‘what is the underlying need being met?’

We are connected, related, interdependent, and reliant upon each other for survival. How do I balance my needs, and wants, versus those of the world?

We are connected, related, interdependent, and reliant upon each other for survival. How do I balance my needs, and wants, versus those of the world?

Do you know what you really need in life? Are the most ‘important’ needs in life truly the basic survival needs? Once we’ve got survival going on…what then? What do I really need as a human primate, a creature of both emotion and reason, to thrive – to be the best of who I am, to become the woman I most want to be, to enjoy the many facets of living in a way that really satisfies?

What do I need to thrive?

What do I need to thrive?

Today is a good day for questions. Life’s curriculum doesn’t take a day off – and the quiz is always an ‘open book test’. Today is a good day to ask ‘what do I need from my life’? Today is a good day to find joy in whatever answers – or experiences – there may be.

I slept badly last night. My sleep was interrupted, restless, and featured bad dreams on old themes with new characters. I felt over-heated much of the night, which I noticed most often immediately before taking some action that subsequently found me feeling too cold. It was an uncomfortable sort of night. I could spend many hours and words looking for ‘why’; I don’t find that doing so is helpful, nor does it result in fewer such nights. I let it go and move on, feeling generally in good spirits this morning in spite of the difficult night.

I didn’t let the lack of good sleep frustrate me. It got me thinking, this morning, about frustration in general. Frustration is my kryptonite, emotionally. Something about my messed up wiring, and broken bits, allows even small moments of frustration to become a very big, very ugly, emotional mess in a small amount of time. Lately, I’ve been finding my way to using some common moments of frustration as simple practices for dealing more appropriately and comfortably with frustration itself. The value in these small practices has been almost immediate, but the value in any practice is the practicing, itself, and I still need quite a lot of it before I even approach a place in life where I may be able to say “I handle frustration well”. That’s the goal, though, ultimately.

The journey is not all blue skies and meadows...but there are some blue skies and meadows to enjoy along the way.

The journey is not all blue skies and meadows…but there are some blue skies and meadows to enjoy along the way.

It is no easy feat for me to choose to make use of some unpleasant moment or circumstance to willfully practice some better practice than my reactive impulse in the moment might direct me towards without any practice at all. Frustration is a free will killer. Frustration dissolves emotional resilience and mindfulness almost instantly, for me. Frustration is an emotion to which I reliably still react, rather than responding with mindfulness, will, consideration and good self-care.  Practicing useful practices has resulted in so many day-to-day improvements in my experience that it has been a source of some frustration that I hadn’t yet built a practice specific to mastering how I manage frustration, itself. Finding one or two in my everyday experience – built around the most common sources of frustration in my own life (like logging into apps using complicated passwords that easily fail, or the occasional odd screen-freeze on my device) – is allowing me to practice better behaviors in response to frustrating moments. The hope is that doing so with small things, harmless things, common things will insulate me from major freak outs and emotional disasters when bigger things frustrate me; practice may not make ‘perfect’, but it sure tends to solidify habits, and change specific reactions.

Taking time to appreciate pleasant moments gives them lasting impact on my day-to-day experience.

Taking time to appreciate pleasant moments gives them lasting impact on my day-to-day experience.

Celebrating progress, even small wins, has big value. Even something as small on the victory scale as a change in thinking, or a good idea, is worth a moment of my appreciation. This morning, I’m taking time to appreciate new practices that address a very old issue, for me, and feeling positive and supported. This, too, is a practice; the practice of celebrating small victories, and incremental progress over time, is a practice that builds more positive implicit memory, as well as providing myself with emotional support from within – which builds emotional self-sufficiency, and keeps me on the path of reaching that place where my close relationships with others are reliably chosen based on desire, and built on positive emotional values, rather than investing in habitual, self-defeating, or co-dependent behaviors, that over time become damaging.

Where does my path take me? How do I look beyond patterns to find change?

Where does my path take me? How do I look beyond patterns to find change?

 

Meeting most of my emotional needs, myself, isn’t an unreasonable goal, and getting there lifts the burden from loved ones to ‘make me happy’ – or ‘make me’ anything at all. I get to ‘make me’ in my own image. Powerful. I am eager to take that project to a new level by moving into creative live/work space and investing more of my time in me. The wait involved in ideal readiness – and an available unit – is another practice in managing frustration on a larger scale; my impatience lurks in the background, waiting for a moment to jump out and undermine my good time now. Mindfulness practices are one way to keep my Observer firmly in the driver’s seat for much of the journey. Another beneficial practice is to embrace the joy I find in planning the move; making a point of being very realistic, practical, and frugal builds useful skills for good self-care, and I feel engaged in imminent change in a positive way.  I’m still very much a beginner, practicing practices. I am still at risk of attacking myself, my will, my resolve, and my intention, from within on any point of vulnerability my demons can grab onto; it makes for some uncomfortable nights, but I am content to show myself some compassion, some acceptance, and some love, and move on from the difficult moments to continue the practicing of good practices. 🙂

It's worth it to take a look at my experience from another perspective...

It’s worth it to take a look at my experience from another perspective…

Today is a good day to practice good practices. Today is a good day to enjoy now, and celebrate small successes that matter to me, most. Today is a good day to enjoy each moment with a smile. Today is a good day to enjoy building my world.

I slept rather poorly and feel a little groggy, and less sharp than usual. The morning is quiet and gentle on my consciousness. The house is still. I feel generally content, calm, and if not delighted, certainly I feel decently well and whole. My coffee tastes very good, and the heat of the cup warms my hands. I feel rather stiff, and movement is more awkward than I’d like it to be – and this will likely ease with a bit more yoga, some walking, and getting the day going. My pain is ‘managed’, and simply exists in the background in a less noteworthy way than it often does. Spring is here, summer on its way, and for a few weeks I will likely get some measure of relief from the worst of my pain, before autumn returns.

In general, this morning is quite lovely, relaxed, and quiet. This leisurely stillness and these few relaxed moments in the morning, are a favorite feature of life, for me.

In contrast with the stillness and calm of the morning, itself, I notice my bed is in a total state of disarray. Odd, because I often sleep in a very still way, without overturning or disturbing the covers  much at all – often enough, that it is quite characteristic of my sleep. Nights like last night look almost as if someone else slept in my bed, or perhaps a very small tornado hit just right there, in the middle of the bed. With the restless night behind me, I don’t stop to wonder ‘why’ or to probe the remnants of my dreams for answers. It isn’t truly relevant to my waking experience of ‘now’, and pursuing idle curiosity about forgotten dreams sometimes leads into darkness. I have no time for darkness, today.

Sometimes the path I walk seems well lit.

Sometimes the path I walk seems bathed in light.

There are quiet a few opportunities along my journey to choose to continue on, rather than taking the time to become mired in something painful, awkward, or unpleasant. Like any solo hike, I’m sort of ‘on my own’ in life, making my own choices, pursuing my own goals, learning the life lessons most relevant to me in the moment, and finding my own way out of the darkness. Solo hiking is good metaphor, here, especially because even solo hiking is rarely entirely utterly solitary throughout; we pass by each other on the trail, sometimes we walk alongside a friend and our journey is less solitary for some while, we have chance encounters with strangers on their own journeys, we reach out to others for connection, contact, or help. It’s still our own journey. We are each having our own experience. Life is a long solo hike through moments, hours, days, years…I am fortunate that, in spite of the chaos and damage, I know love.

Sometimes the path seems more challenging; it's helpful to have something to hold on to.

Sometimes the path seems more challenging; it’s helpful to have something to hold on to.

Knowing love, sometimes I find myself suffering; I occasionally blame love, itself, for my choice to suffer. It’s not actually the fault of love that I am capable of suffering over, or for, or about love; it’s a very human thing, tending to indicate I am unskilled at love and loving, more than saying anything about love’s own qualities.

Since we’re human beings, we make mistakes. We cause others to suffer. We hurt our loved ones, and we feel regret. But without making mistakes, there is no way to learn. If you can learn from your mistakes, then you have already transformed garbage into flowers. Very often, our mistakes come from our unskillfulness, and not because we want to harm one another.”

from “How to Love” by Thich Nhat Hanh

I continue to practice, to be a student of love, and to take to heart such wisdom as I find in the world that speaks to me. I continue to walk on, to walk it off, to walk away from what doesn’t work well for me, to continue toward practices and choices that work well for me, and tend to strengthen my ability to love, and to love well. I’m not seeking an achievement, a goal, an award, or any recognition on this one; it is the journey that matters, and the choices I make along the way. I regularly stumble on missed ‘take care of me, first’ moments, as if not noticing a snag along a trail; I learn from each miss how important good self-care is, whether it is taking my Rx medication on time, keeping an eye on my blood sugar, getting enough rest, or simply showing myself some kindness in the face of some mistake or another. I am only able to love well when I am also very high on my list of people I love…really high on my list. Like… first. Sure, sometimes I do find it hard to put me at the top of my list; the effort to do so, and to treat myself truly well, pays off in how much more easily I am able to love others when I am well-cared for from within. Experience suggests that when I care for myself well, and treat myself with kindness and affection, I am also easier to love. So…no down side to treating myself well, then. 🙂

One moment of many; an opportunity to breathe, to observe, and to be.

One moment of many; an opportunity to breathe, to observe, and to be.

It’s a lovely day for forward momentum, and a lovely day to walk my own path. Today is a good day to enjoy my experience of myself, and to embrace and nurture the qualities of heart and mind that I value in myself.  Today is a good day to smile at strangers and wish them well; they are each walking a path of their own choosing, toward an unknown destination, and worthy of well-wishes wishes, consideration, and good-natured regard. Today is a good day to look ahead with gratitude and appreciation. Today is a good day to change the world.

I am the hiker. I am the flower along the trail.

I am the hiker. I am the flower along the trail.

I am enjoying a lovely quiet evening. It is very different from what I may have expected – a good lesson in letting go of attachment to expectations. It is also very different from I might have planned; having not made specific other plans, those thoughts are irrelevant – the very essence of thought: lacking substance or reality of its own, but seeming unarguably valid. Certainly, the evening is different from what I may have said I wanted, had I been asked, and again the thought lacks relevance, circumstances being what they are; pleasantly calm, quiet, and solitary. Funny that such a quiet evening of contentment and study wasn’t higher on my list of possible desirable evenings… I consider wondering why it wasn’t, but quickly realize that what matters is to enjoy it as it is, without criticism or judgment, and to trust that practicing being accepting of, and kind to, myself on a quiet evening requires no excuses, justification, or defense.

I have my challenges. I find myself struggling to let go of attachment. I have a loyal, kind, and generous nature that leaves me open to exploitation, too tolerant of poor treatment, and with a brain injury that limits my ability to set firm boundaries, or reliably communicate clearly in the moment. It seems strange to admit it so simply; I have refused to acknowledge these traits for so long, out of shame for being weak and broken. I have been hesitant to be vulnerable out of fear of leaving myself open to ridicule. I could be kinder to myself, and benefit greatly from it. I still have a lot to learn, and much to practice.  Hard, too, is the inevitable discovery that things I enjoy in myself, and qualities I choose to nurture because I value them, may not be similarly valued by others; it requires strength and persistence to choose me, and to show myself the loyalty, kindness, and generosity that is so much who I am.

Where does this path lead? I am in unfamiliar territory.

Where does this path lead? I am in unfamiliar territory.

The path to emotional self-sufficiency seems also to be the path to The Art of Being, and a path that speeds to creative freedom, satisfaction, and a less chaotic day-to-day experience. More choices, fewer reactions. More day-to-day calm. More likelihood that I will be able to meet my needs over time.

…Here’s the thing, though, at least for me; my choices really matter, and it is critical that they be made again, and again, and again, even when I am uncertain of the outcome, or experiencing insecurity or doubt. It’s how practice works, and there’s no short cut; I still have to do the verbs. I don’t always get the outcome I’m after…sometimes that seems to matter, at least long enough to blow my heart off course, sometimes it doesn’t matter at all. So…it’s not without effort, or failure; I fall, I get up, I go again…I learn, I grow. I gain perspective, and try again. It’s enough.

Tonight, I make good choices; I complete a project I committed to, and spend the rest of the evening in gentle solitude, enjoying my own company, my own moment…also, very much enough.

A lovely sunny spring day becomes a quiet somewhat chilly spring night. That, too, is enough.