Archives for category: Sleepless Nights

I’m  not blue, and it is Monday. I was allowing my mind to coast a bit, considering first this, then that, hoping this morning’s writing would coalesce into something coherent, at least. I thought of songs I know themed on Monday and went to Google. It still hasn’t stopped surprising me how much coincidence, chance, and serendipity gently bring my attention to things that support my growth, my progress, or enhance it somehow. This morning, my Google adventure resulted in finding a blog with a post about songs themed on Mondays.  An interesting find, worth exploring further, and another traveler’s narrative.

The weekend was mostly about exploring spontaneity, and practicing doing so mindfully. For me, this proved to be an exercise in strangeness, and overall I enjoyed it enough to find it was well spent, although I don’t care to utterly abandon my preference for planning. 🙂

Flowers and sunshine.

Flowers and sunshine, whether I plan them or not.

Yesterday morning I shared breakfast with a dear friend, and took a stroll through the local farmer’s market, and beyond that spent the day in study and contemplation. I took a chance on a lovely day and did some yoga outside. In the afternoon, I lost track of time, meditating in a shady spot for what turned out to be a couple of hours well spent. Later, studying spontaneously became napping, and while I’m sure I needed the rest, it resulted in being awake far into the night, hyper-vigilant and overly aware of our house guest, my partner’s Dad, staying over.  I’m hoping I am sufficiently well-rested that the short night doesn’t come at an emotional cost later. Of course, there are choices that matter; choices affect thinking and behavior.

A new week begins. In these first moments of Monday I gently remind myself of the work ahead, of the professional self I carry to the office, of how that does or does not fit in with supporting my needs over time. I no longer allow an employer to call my shots as a human being; I am more than the sum of my professional skills.

I miss my traveling partner fiercely. There’s nothing to be done about it, of course, besides tend my heart with care, and honor and respect my emotional experience.

The resident feline models ideal behaviors for 'how to miss someone'; she takes care of her own business, until they return.

The resident feline models ideal behaviors for ‘how to miss someone’; she takes care of her own business, until they return.

I feel vaguely unsettled and uneasy this morning. It’s a small thing. The morning is a quiet and delightfully still morning…but there is a stranger sleeping in the room next to mine. I know, I know… my partner’s Dad. That’s family, right? Well…yes and no. Her family. For me, he’s a man I’ve met a number of times…3? 4? Hung out with briefly. I don’t actually ‘know’ him. I take my partner’s word for it that it is safe to have him in the house – that’s the simple truth of it. He is her family, she vouches for him as a human being. I don’t actually know him. I must have given her an odd look in the evening when she said something pleasant in passing about me having my quiet morning, this morning, since she’d be gone by… because, really, although the morning is quiet, the subtle tense awareness of a stranger in this space is palpable. I don’t really know how to communicate to someone else that this is an uncomfortable feeling for me. I am on alert, waiting…watching the clock.

I remind myself how unlikely it is that anything alarming, dangerous, frightening, or unexpected might happen due to his presence. I take some deep calming breaths. I return my awareness to the moment and cherish my wounded heart that will most likely never trust a human being solely because they are a parent, even of someone I care for (perhaps especially of someone I care for; I know them, and the damage left behind in childhood’s passing).  What reason do I have for that sort of trust? Then in a moment of beautiful perspective, I think of a friend and our broader circle of shared friends, all on ‘baby watch’; she’s past due and eagerly awaiting the birth of her son. How beautiful and wonderful to see a child already so well-loved, waited for, prepared for, who will be received in such total love! She is a woman of remarkable heart and grace, and wholly suited to motherhood, not because she has nothing else to offer the world, but because she chooses to offer her love as a mother, in addition to so much more, and does so skillfully. If I could have chosen someone to mother me, as I headed for mortal form, surely I would choose such as she. So… parents, not all bad. lol

Choosing awareness. Choosing presence. Choosing 'now'.

Choosing awareness. Choosing presence. Choosing ‘now’.

Balance. Mindfulness. Perspective. Sufficiency. Today is a good day for big ideas that require only one word. Today is a good day to change the world.

I remember a younger me, angry beyond the point of explaining it, beyond any reason (although, I felt at the time with very good cause). I remember the ferocity, the righteous rage, the convenient slogans, the certainty of Aristotelian logic, the convenient disregard for any experience but my own ever-so-limited experiences. I remember the sting of frustration, the mockery of cultural enemies, the chronic anger of not ‘being heard’ – my lack of awareness that I, myself, was also not listening. At that point in my life, I was unaware of my TBI, and already struggling with PTSD from living a life of emotional and physical violence, deeply aware of a sense of being broken, damaged, different…struggling to communicate, to be  heard, to be understood. I was easily led, but had no sense of it; I considered myself a ‘free thinker’ and ‘my own woman’. Sometimes, perhaps, I even was.

Most of the time, someone was ‘managing’ me. I didn’t understand things that way at the time. When I finally ‘got it’, it was both incredibly freeing, and incredibly heart-breaking.  My parents, grandparents, the Army, a spouse, a lover, a partner, an organization with an agenda, an employer… Everyone who had their shot invested time and effort in convincing me theirs was the right and true truth, the way, the only obvious conclusion, the needful thing, the most righteous of right, the most just of the just. Generally all lies, or as nearly all lies as matters; people with an agenda, in my experience, are rarely about truth.

A difficult night; conversations with my self.

A difficult night; conversations with my self.

I slept badly last night, and my dreams were populated with different iterations of a woman I once was, angrily trying to ‘talk sense’ to the woman I am now, the woman I am becoming – a woman who finds that people matter most, and that relationships of all sorts are the thing most worth investing in. A woman who understands there is no ‘justification’ for warfare – these days all that violence and destruction seems a childish tantrum on a very grand scale, and clearly ineffective, unless the purpose is simply the destruction, itself. I don’t understand how any one of us can take the view that our hurts justify killing someone else. There’s a lot of it in the news. I try not to read it, but it isn’t possible to reflect on the world and not see it going on.

I don’t think I’m exaggerating. I read a story in which a man who was upset over getting divorced killed the woman who had been his wife. Killed her. For not wanting to spend more of her life with him. Her life. I seriously doubt anyone can offer a rational justification for that act.  It’s actually so commonplace I didn’t link it; a Google search will turn up hundreds of such articles. Of course, there’s more, and some of it is on a grand scale indeed. I mean… Gaza? Seriously? Why is an imaginary line on the planet an acceptable justification for killing? For genocide? How is it ever acceptable to deploy troops from one country to another to use violence to enforce an ideology not freely chosen by the people being attacked? It’s all very odd that we allow it to go on, that we do it, ourselves. We regularly attempt to force others to our point of view, and regularly fight for our own – or succumb to another.

I don’t usually write in a particularly political way, and if this is sounding political to you, you may be missing my point.  My point is, why not just stop killing people? What right does any one human being have to transgress on the life force of another human being, to rob or rape or kill them, or blow up their home, or do them an injury, or take their life or their possessions? What right at all? If no one human being can rationally justify those behaviors, how do we permit it of our governments? It’s bullshit, and honestly – we just need to stop. It’s been said. I’m not first here. (I doubt anyone is really listening – or this nastiness would have already ended.) But…I woke angry with the woman I once was, and found that simply to satisfy myself that the conversation had been concluded, and I have been heard – by myself – it feels necessary to say a few a things with as much clarity as I can to that damaged enraged delusional young woman still storming and screaming that she wants to ‘burn it all down’, who lingers in my past, still hurting, still raging. She had her chance to be heard in my restless dreams…so…for her. For me…

Have any religion you like; don’t force it on me. Live where you like, enjoy the customs of your people; but don’t force them on others, or steal to gain land or territory. Don’t rape, kill, or mutilate other people; do what you will with your own body, call it art, call it tradition – but do not visit it on others, most particularly not in violation of their reasoning consent. Don’t violate the consent of others. At all. Ever. Don’t assume your values and opinions are the one true truth; everyone I’ve ever met has their own thoughts on that subject. Govern yourself.  Help more than you injure. Build more than you destroy. Share when you have more, and be gracious when those who have more share what they’ve got with you. Listen with your whole attention. Recognize the fundamental humanity of every human you interact with – and all the ones far away that you only hear about. Understand that you are but one, and that you are who you choose to be, and you can choose differently if you are unhappy – and I encourage it. Happy is wonderful; you won’t get there at the expense of others. People matter. Their pain matters. Their hearts matter. When you lash out at others and do them damage, injure them, violate their consent, you are not one of ‘the good guys’ regardless what you use to justify your bad acts. Collateral damage is still damage. You can’t heal yourself through harming others, however satisfying vengeance may sound in the abstract. Make your own choices, understand they are yours, and don’t rob others of their opportunities to make choices for themselves. You are not wiser, smarter, stronger, better, or more reliably right than any other one human being – you are human. Only that. Be who you are – no one else can do that as well as you can – but don’t attempt to force others to your way, they are not you. And… one last thing? Don’t be a dick. All those other people in the world? Yeah – they’re people, too, like you.

Today is as good a day for humanity as you choose to make it. Choose wisely.

Today is as good a day for humanity as you choose to make it. Choose wisely.

 

Here it is, another day. Another week. Another sequence of moments about to unfold, touched by choices, and circumstances, colored by coincidence and thinking. Today is an entirely new experience. It’s a lovely morning to contemplate that, it is a Monday.

I slept like hell last night. It hardly matters this morning; it has become routine during periods of prolonged wakefulness, to choose an appropriately comfortable supine pose, still in bed, and meditate. There’s no ‘goal’ and I’m not ‘trying to get back to sleep’, I’m simply taking advantage of the quiet night hours to meditate, because I’m awake, because it’s a quiet activity, because it feels good, because it creates a lovely state of relaxation. Sometimes the need is greater, and I sit up and take it quite seriously, meditating in that timeless time in the wee hours, before the alarm goes off. It’s a nice bonus that I am often able to return to sleep afterward. Meditation did nothing to help my sleep, when I tried meditation to help me sleep. Meditation has done a lot to help my sleep in general, now that I am not trying to make it improve my sleep. lol There is real insight somewhere in there.

It is enough this morning that the headache I woke with dissipated while I was meditating, and that I feel rested in spite of having relatively little sleep. ‘Enough’ is good with me; I am not looking for more than that.

Enough.

Enough.

On the subject of new experiences, I spent the weekend focused on study, self-work, contemplation, and yoga. I don’t have a clever portmanteau for it (like ‘stay-cation’ or something of that sort), but it was time I definitely needed after an emotionally difficult week. I am still learning how to take care of me, and a big piece of that is boundary setting, communicating limits, and honoring those boundaries and limits myself enough to remind others to honor them as well. It doesn’t come nearly as naturally to me as undercutting my needs and fostering resentment over time – I’m super good at those, but find they don’t suit my long-term needs, or build healthy relationships.

One choice. One change. One moment.

One choice. One change. One moment.

So…it’s back to work, another week, practical details, calendars, meetings, ‘getting it done’… I have a busy week ahead. I observe that I have both the experience of eagerness to get back to a job I love, as well as mild impatience – because what could be more important than investing my time in me? (Every Monday I face that dilemma, and wonder why our culture is not more advanced by now; we have the technology to provide greater leisure to all…why haven’t we done so? I’m good at being employed, but it isn’t what I want to be doing with my time, in general.)

I am eager, too, to welcome my traveling partner home. I haven’t had any particular stress over his absence, I guess because he doesn’t feel gone to me, aside from missing the experience of his touch. He needed some time away, and certainly I’ve benefited from that time myself. (He said something once about the value of an opportunity to miss each other, and I have observed the truth of it in my own experience.) Still, I enjoy the tales of travelers, the opportunity to sample something different from the experiences I’ve had myself, the newness and intimacy of the restored connection, the subtle differences in language brought home from faraway, and stories. I just love stories, and my partner is a good story-teller. I hope to listen well.

Something changed for me last week. It requires further consideration, acceptance, and understanding. Fewer words, less thinking, and more awareness seem useful on this one, and it may be some time before I write much more about it. I find that I have a more clear idea of what I want in life, what I need from and in my relationships, and the choices it may take to get there. That’s a very big deal, I suppose, although it rather gets in the way of other things just at the moment. The timing is peculiar. Last week sucked in a most extraordinary way, but I managed a good amount of emotional resilience, balance, and self-compassion, and greater ease and a feeling of naturalness to making room for my emotions, and being kind to myself. I had feared learning emotional self-sufficiency might result in … greater loneliness. That isn’t seeming to be the case, so far, instead I feel more whole as I learn skills that allow me to rely on myself as a sort of emotional ‘first responder’. So far, pretty awesome. There’s more to learn, of course, and I suspect that like mindfulness itself, emotional self-sufficiency is more a practice than a goal. 🙂

Finding love everywhere starts with how I feel about myself.

Finding love everywhere starts with how I feel about myself.

So, yeah. Here it is morning, again. Time to start a new day. Today is a good day to treat myself well, and to embrace my values – and my friends. Today is a good day to smile at small children. Today is a good day to remember most people are already doing their very best, much of the time. Today is a good day for kindness. Today is a good day to recognize that respecting my own boundaries and limits, and setting them clearly, and managing them well, is a very nice way to tell myself ‘I love you’. Today is a good day to change the world.

 

It seems a strange morning to write. My thoughts are incoherent and disorganized. Various ‘reasons’ I’m sure, though I don’t think it really requires an explanation, does it? I’m smiling and thinking how rarely an explanation changes an experience, however it may change my perspective.

I slept restlessly last night. I woke in a state of panic and dread at 1:42 am. I had no recollection of my dreams, and no awareness of any startling sounds or movement in my environment. I still occasionally have night terrors, and having crashed out around 10:30 pm, the timing is right. Knowledge offered no relief from the feelings, but it gave me leverage to use new skills to soothe myself, slow my heart rate, calm my breathing, settle my emotions, and eventually return to sleep. Meditation – the most powerful Rx I’ve ever been prescribed for a whole host of bullshit that challenges me.

The mysteries of the sleeping self are sometimes best left as mysteries.

After waking, dreams fade into the distance.

I woke abruptly, later, and still early (for a weekend day, when I could theoretically choose to ‘sleep in’). I woke shortly after 6:00 am, and feeling uneasy and vaguely pissed-off. I started the morning with more meditation, no agenda, no pressure, and from meditation I moved on to yoga; this gentle routine has become such a feature of my experience that I no longer plan it on my calendar, or set a reminder on my phone, or put a sticky note on my monitor. This slow unfolding of self in the morning is part of who I am now. It’s a nice change. By the time I got to the kitchen to pull a shot of espresso I felt calm, and content. It isn’t always that easy – honestly, the words make it sound ‘easier’ than it actually is. There is an implied commitment to practice, a commitment to self, a commitment to healing – and these require real effort, and a willingness to come back to the practice again and again, in the moment, and the will to face myself in the mirror of my minds-eye in a truly vulnerable and honest way, aware and still, inside myself. ‘Easy’ is not an accurate descriptor.

Practice. It's the practice that is the point; there is no 'mastery'.

Practice. It’s the practice that is the point; there is no ‘mastery’.

I still feel whatever is agitating me lurking in the background of my consciousness, an anxiety that comes and goes, as if it is preparing for some sneak attack, and checking regularly to see if I am still aware. (Personifying my issues isn’t something I take literally – or lightly – but I find that some of my issues are more easily faced when they have, well, faces. lol. 😉 ) I am hopeful that continued practice, presence in the moment, moving through my day mindfully and with great self-compassion will be enough to prevent some nasty attack on my equanimity by my demons. My analyst-brain urgently wants to pick at this sense of unease that returns now and then, to force it to give up its secrets, and tell me ‘why’, but it is a misleading temptation; giving in to it would likely result only in more pain and distress, because most likely there is no ‘why’ at all. Not in my here and now, at least, and perhaps not even in the remnants of last night’s dreams.

When I feel aware of the unease, this morning, I face it. I breathe. I feel myself relax. I move into the moment in a more present way. I take time for a few moments to be still, aware, to be compassionate and show myself kindness; I am human, these experiences of unease are uncomfortable, and result in more emotion on that blue end of the spectrum unless I slow down and take time to care for me. This morning, I have many small opportunities to practice emotional self-sufficiency. This morning life’s curriculum seems to be of the lab variety; hands on, and practicing. I’m okay with that; I expect willful change to require both choice and effort.

The map is not the world. Hell, the map isn't even the journey.

The map is not the world. Hell, the map isn’t even the journey.

Today is a good day to practice taking care of me. Today is a good day for compassion and for kindness. Today is a good day to build equanimity. Today is a good day to change the world.

I’m sitting here staring into the monitor. My espresso slowly going cold. Looking a blank title bar, just sort of stalled in mid-thought. “Speechless” – first thing in the morning? That’s rare for me. My dreams often fill my thoughts and kick off my writing at the start of my day. Other times, I wake still considering something that troubled me the day before. Sometimes I wake with a sensation or emotion that seems to drive my experience and inspire me, or the studying, reading, email, or yoga do the that, instead. This morning? I am sitting here, staring into a title bar – with no title. That’s generally where I begin, the focal point of what is to come – a title. Not this morning. Could be the product of the short night; it was past midnight before I slept, and I woke again at 3:00 am.

I finally type ‘TBD’ into the title bar, and jot a quick reminder to myself to connect with a librarian friend of mine and get some remedial schooling on semicolons and quotation marks. I suspect I’ve gone far astray of whatever rules may exist – and I do want people to read my words with some comfort and a sense of familiarity, with my punctuation and syntax if nothing else.

It has been an oddly difficult week. I’ve certainly been having my own experience. The OPD [Other People’s Drama]  levels in life seem pretty high, lately, too. Funny thing…a partner returned home from a recent event, and shared a short story someone cool had shared with him. The Egg, by Andy Weir. I was incredibly moved. It seemed very consistent with threads of ideas that already exist in my contemplation of what is, and what isn’t, and maybe why. He shared it with me almost shyly, I consumed it with great delight; I was moved. I was moved as much by the sharing, and the tenderness in that gesture, as the I was by the story – and that’s saying something.

I am just finishing off a re-reading of Stranger in a Strange Land.  An interesting connection, a thread of coincidence and meaning exists; throughout the book the main character, Valentine Michael Smith ‘The Man from Mars’ refers to himself as ‘only an egg’ in moments of doubt, troubling curiosity, and confusion. It’s a pretty powerful book, and at one time highly controversial. I suspect most people who read it get hung up on the representation of poly amorous love, or being affronted by perceived religious blasphemies, and miss some of the other insights and profundities. On this particular read through, I am far less interested in those portions of the plot than I am in hints and references to mindfulness, perspective, sufficiency and choice. This is a book that says a lot about free will, accountability and consequences, but I doubt most people reading it notice those elements; it is also an amazing story.

I’ve been eager to hear about my partner’s festival weekend, and realize with a touch of sadness that he’s had basically no chance to really share his traveler’s tales with me. Today he leaves to spend a few days with a cherished friend, doing meaningful things and taking time out to take care of needs of his own. We take few opportunities to actually ‘miss each other’, love is amazing stuff and we enjoy each other’s company greatly. There is growth and healing and progress in also taking time for the things we love that we don’t share, or don’t do together, and these things are also part of who we are. I’ll miss him, and when he returns I will eagerly listen to his tales of adventure. As I think on it, I realize he’s probably in the same situation; we haven’t actually had much in the way of conversation about what we did with our time, and what our experiences were, while we were doing our thing last weekend. I’d ask ‘where has the time gone?’ but I know the answer to that one; the minutes, hours, and days of a lifetime wasted on OPD can’t be calculated easily, but drama is as time consuming as child-rearing is costly.

Walking my own path.

Walking my own path.

So. A few quiet days without this being who is so dear to me; the world with benefit from his time with others, no doubt so will he. I will focus on taking care of me, studying, meditation, asking questions, and living quiet life, content and productive, and becoming the woman I most want to be. Today is a very good day to change the world.