Archives for category: Spring

Begin Again… Again.

June 10, 2018 //

I got a few things done yesterday, all of what I stayed home for, a few other things that really needed to get done, then… I stalled.

It’s been a thing most of this calendar year. I “run out of spoons” earlier, or hit some sort of peculiar metaphorical wall, and just… can’t. I’ve mastered “stillness”, but sometimes wonder if I have done so at the expensive of managing adequate effort. There is a balance to strike between understanding what must be done, and doing it, and also properly providing myself adequate self-care. This seems an obvious thing, and perhaps mentioning it is just extra words, but… once fatigue sets in, emotional or physical doesn’t seem to matter much, I lose considerable will and energy with which to continue to do. Inconveniently; I’ve got shit to do. lol

I woke this morning feeling rested, but had deliberately allowed all of the rather more costly pre-prepared coffee products of various sorts to completely run out; I know how to make a great cup of coffee, for fuck’s sake. This lack of effort needs to stop. So… I stopped it. Well, at least with regard to coffee. I had to properly be the adult in the room this morning and… actually make coffee. I fought that process every step with thoughts of grabbing the car keys and heading to a coffee stand, a coffee shop, a breakfast place… I kept the temptation at bay by also considering that I really wanted a good cup of hot coffee in a ceramic mug, fresh, perfectly delicious, not at all instant… no dairy… nothing fancy… just… coffee. Made by me. Without getting dressed. Without driving somewhere. Without spending money. The visualization of the realities of coffee in paper cups, and having to dress, then drive, before being coffee’d up were helpful; I just didn’t really want any part of that. So far so good.

Good coffee. Very satisfying. It’s already gone.

Next up? Everything else. LOL It’s Sunday, and although the housekeeping I’m fussing about is barely two hours of actual work, I’ve been stalling, or being half-assed about it, doing just enough to get by, for… weeks. (Months. It’s been months.) So, today? Today I recommit myself to what matters most to me, without any shame or self-criticism, and take a moment with the woman in the mirror, ensuring I’m not overlooking some urgent bit of self-care that may be standing in my way; averting my awareness from my own needs sometimes results in a peculiar refusal by my entire consciousness to participate in the needful task processing of daily adult life. lol Like having a recalcitrant toddler standing in my way constantly. Those unmet needs don’t yield so easily, and the lack of awareness holds the potential to slowly overcome me entirely with a fog of video-watching and scrolling through feeds numbly. Unhealthy. Unproductive. Empty.

This isn’t a situation that actually requires “troubleshooting”. I do understand what is happening here, and with the spate of recent suicides, I’m not willing to diminish the significance; I’m struggling in the sticky trap of long-term ennui that can develop in the aftermath of extreme or prolonged stress. I’ve got a bit of it culturally, just due to the horror-fest of shock and dismay that American politics and society have become (no kidding, it’s a thing), and then on top of it the regular upheaval week after week in my own community and social network this year… it’s been a lot to take, a lot to manage, and a lot to endure. I’ve done well – but I’m also tired. Rest, alone, is not enough; it has required both a lot of rest, and a lot of advance self-care, and I don’t always manage to make time for both.

Today I feel rested. I have a precise, fairly short task-based list of things that need doing, all very routine, and very familiar. It’s not even a lot of work… I just “don’t fucking feel like it”, and it’s time to get past that, because it simply needs to be done, and I’m the person here who is going to have to do it. lol Sometimes being the adult in the room is some work, and sometimes the work can be deferred, but eventually? It’s got to get done.

I’ve got my list. I’ve got my priorities. I’ve got the day ahead of me. It’s time to begin again. 🙂

Tags again, be here now, be the change, begin again, but you don't look sick, choose wisely, chores, emotional self sufficiency, ennui, experience, fighting the fog, get it done, good self-care, housekeeping, I am my own cartographer, I don't feel like it, I need more spoons, invisible injuries, just do it, make time for it, MBSR, mindful living, mindfulness matters, my home my rules my way, my results vary, OPD, perspective, ptsd, so human, spoons, sufficiency, taking care of me, TBI, the aftermath of stress, The Art of Being, the hidden cost of stress, the map is not the world, the spoon metaphor, there are verbs involved, walking my own path, what matters most?

Categories anhedonia, Anxiety, Brain Injury, Despair, Free Will, Frustration, grief, Healthy Living, inspiration, Logic & Reason, loneliness, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Spring, Summer, The Art of Being, War and News of War, Words

Tending My Garden

June 9, 2018 //

I often think of life as a metaphorical garden. (Isn’t it?)

I sometimes stray down the path without tending the garden.

The healthy tilth is a good starting point; planting seeds in crags and rocks may not yield a generous crop of fruits, vegetables, or flowers. Understanding what is fertile ground, and how to prepare ground for planting has value.

Composting scraps and garden waste skillfully results in more fertile soil… but which scraps are suitable, and which will ruin the compost? Not all that is waste or scrap is worth keeping.

Lush and beautiful, chosen with care. We reap what we sow, and how we tend our garden matters.

Choosing seeds and plants with care, understanding the climate, and the seasons, locally, in my own garden, really matters; however fertile the soil, planting something that can’t thrive in my climate puts my garden at a disadvantage.

A weed in one context may be a crop in another.

Taking care, every day, to nurture my garden, to fertilize when needed, to water, to cut back spent blooms, to weed out noxious or invasive intruders that consume resources, but yield nothing, matters greatly over time. If I am not present, some plants may thrive, willy-nilly, coincidental to the luck of the rainfall and the weather, but the outcome is left to chance – other plants will wither and die. My harvest may not be plentiful. My blooming season limited.

My roses suffer my lack of attention; this is true of most things that require attention.

Self-care works very much in this same way. I don’t suppose I need to spell it all out more factually – if you already keep a garden, you already get it. 🙂

My results vary, as does the weather.

I haven’t been home much, lately. Most weekends I am away. I travel to see my Traveling Partner, catching up with him wherever he is. I travel to see friends. I travel for this or that event or festival. I travel on a whim. I catch myself yearning to be at home, in my own garden…

…Yes, it’s a metaphor. 🙂

This weekend I am at home. I am in my own garden, tending it with care, making up for lost time, present, and appreciating this moment, right here. It’s enough to be here, now, and there is no need or time for self-criticism, or what-ifs, or if-onlys. This is now, and now is enough, and I am here, enjoying it with the woman in the mirror – who has been missing this quiet place, and time.

Be present. See wonders. Experience the moment, fully.

The morning started slowly, and auspiciously enough; I slept in. I woke gently in the twilight of a new day, the room turning light in spite of the curtains, as day broke. I got up. Showered. Found my feet carrying me toward the car as soon as I was dressed. Coffee-to-Go and a breakfast sandwich on a hilltop looking out across the countryside, with a view of Mt Hood beyond. Bare feet. Damp grass. Contentment. No firm plan, and coffee finished, I found my way to the farmer’s market, then heading home with fresh local strawberries, fully ripe – the sort one never finds in a grocery store. The scent fills the car.

I arrive home, smiling so hard my face hurt, in spite of the peculiarly moody dark sky, threatening imminent rain (that has only now started to fall, some hours later). I make a Turkish coffee, melt some chocolate, and feast on strawberries dipped in warm chocolate, sipping coffee, in my garden. I raise my cup cheerily at a robin who joins me, watching me from the deck rail. There is work to do in my garden, metaphorical or otherwise, and I have been away far too much for my own good. I finish my coffee, then finish the spring planting, finish the weeding, finish the watering, just in time to head indoors before the rain comes. I leave a strawberry, fat, juicy, and fully ripe, on the deck rail… in case of visitors. 🙂

Rain is definitely coming.

Inside, my metaphorical life-garden greets me, and here too there is work to be done. Untidiness has crept in, a corner here, a stack of paperwork over there, a piece of gear that was not put away, a book askew from all the rest, a stray sock left where it fell, unnoticed, and so much laundry that very much wants to be put away… I’m still smiling. It’s a good day to begin again. 🙂

Tags ACT, be here now, be present, begin again, being and becoming, breathe, choose wisely, emotional self sufficiency, gardening, good self-care, I am my own cartographer, listening deeply, MBSR, mindful living, mindfulness, mindfulness for beginners, mindfulness matters, my home my rules my way, observe, perspective, practicing the practices, ptsd, rain falls, reap a bountiful harvest, relationships, seasons change, sufficiency, taking care of me, TBI, tend your garden I'll tend mine, tending the garden, The Art of Being, The Big 5, the map is not the world, there are verbs involved, tilth, walking my own path, weed out noxious intruders, what matters most?

Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, Free Will, gardening, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Parables, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Roses, Spring, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5

Why?

June 8, 2018 //

Tuesday it was Kate Spade. This morning, I read that Anthony Bourdain has also taken his own life. I pause for a moment to consider the engaging chef whose books and television shows entertained and educated me. I enjoyed his wit. The headline “Anthony Bourdain Has Died” didn’t prepare me for the further information regarding his suicide. There’s a certain different ache in my soul when I read of suicide…

…I know what despair feels like.

Well, shit. It’s a scary, seriously frightening and frustrating world these days. I get feeling overwhelmed by despair. Some days it is hard not to. We will see, for days to come, articles about suicide help lines, and some analyses of what drives people to take their own lives. There will be salacious gossip about the lives of the fallen. Someone will share a recent article about the high rate of senior or veteran suicides. Most of the people who read those will shake their heads, and turn away, unaware someone dear to them is on the brink of making that major “life” decision.

Connect with your loved ones, your friends, associates, and coworkers. Be sure to mention that they matter to you in an authentic way, and be real about it. It’s not about hyperbole and fake compliments, and it isn’t necessary to use superlatives. Easier to straight up give voice to that thing they do that you enjoy, or count on, or appreciate, or wish you did as well – or, fucking hell, just have lunch, or coffee – make time. Be present. Don’t rush those connected social moments; they are what matter most in our days. There’s no knowing when someone may choose to check out, and while you may not be able to change their mind about it, you can, at least, enjoy who they are while they are here.

On the other side of the equation, please consider sticking around awhile? If you’re considering a firm end to the chaos, and stress, and trauma, and struggle, and despair… please, just for a moment, consider that there may be other things you have yet to try. There may be practices that improve your experience, even if they don’t change the entire world, itself. Incremental change takes time – please give yourself some. Someone, I promise you, will miss you if you go.

I stayed. There are a lot of verbs involved, but it has been, very much, worth it to have stayed. I’ll go on with that, with staying around I mean, because things got better. Things continue to get better. I can’t promise that for you, but I can assure you that choosing change results in changes, so long as you do the verbs. 🙂 Your results may (will) vary, and the changes you choose in life may be somewhat askew from the changes you subsequently find unfolding around you, but change is. Despair isn’t particularly sustainable, it’s just annoyingly difficult to see through when we’re feeling it.

There’s one irksome thing about suicide that never fails to leave me feeling bereft and discontent; I don’t know why. No, I mean… I don’t know why. That’s what leaves me feeling so bereft and discontent. I’m not sure there’s any solid “why” to suicide. Surely, people have their reasons. Many leave a note behind, but often those are not public, and even when they are public, they leave so much left unexplained – as if I think there is, or should be, a reasonable explanation when despair overtakes someone. Despair is shitty enough to be its own reason.

One more time, I let the “why?” go, and pause for a moment to say good-bye to a fallen soul. I pause for regret. I pause to appreciate, to mourn, to find personal solace after a time. I pause to be aware I am, myself, okay right now… as though it could creep up on me, and take me by surprise, myself…

…Then I begin again.

Tags ACT, Despair, don't despair, don't go, emotional self sufficiency, get help, good self-care, listening deeply, love, MBSR, perspective, practicing the practices, ptsd, relationships, saying good-bye, someone cares, sufficiency, suicide, taking care of me, talk about it, TBI, there are verbs involved, walk on, walking my own path, what matters most?

Categories Brain Injury, Despair, forgiveness, Free Will, grief, loneliness, Love, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Spring, Summer

What About You?

June 7, 2018 //

Yesterday went by fast. Too fast. I ended the evening feeling a bit rushed, pressed for time, hurried through things, short on bandwidth… and a little stressed. You too? It’s a fairly common experience for adults I know – what about you?

Did you do anything about it? Do you know that you can?

I halted mid-rush, somewhere in between watering the container garden on the deck, feeding the fish in the aquarium, yoga, and a shower… I… just stopped. I paused for a moment in front of a painting that hangs in the hallway (in a space that’s really a bit dark for that one), and really looked at it, vaguely surprised to see it, as if unaware I’d hung it there in the first place. I took a minute. For breath, for life, for a moment – for me. There wasn’t really any reason to be rushing around like a mad woman. Is there shit to do? Yep. Am I the one that’s got to do it? Again – yes. Does everything have to be done with equal fervor right fucking now? Ahem. No. Not at all. Not even possible – and the attempt to make it so isn’t just silly, it is exhausting. It also tends to dial up the intensity on life’s background stress, quite a lot. So.

I stood quietly looking at this painting with new eyes. Giving myself over to really seeing it. I turned and looked at another. And yet another after that. When I moved on with things, it was a comfortable pace, and a relaxed approach to the evening – and to life.

I sip my coffee this morning thinking over that moment, and many that preceded it during the day, contrasting the hurried moments, the frantic moments, with the chill moments. Which are actually more productive, realistically? Which bring more joy? Can I have/do both? My own answer is a clear and unequivocal “yes” – but there is an effort of will involved in managing it. I find myself needing to pause, now and again, because over time the pace of life seems to accelerate rather unpleasantly.

We are mortal. That’s still a thing, even in the 21st century. We have yet to improve upon that, or fix it, or, really, limit it in any noteworthy way. So, given that this may be my one shot at living well, at living beautifully, at living life from a perspective of contentment and joy, it seems wholly worthwhile to figure out how not to be so damned rushed all the time. lol 😀 Still working the bugs out. A quick pause to reset is what I’ve got for now that I know is effective.

I begin the morning with coffee and music. I almost overlook writing, and valuing this time, pull myself out of the news – pausing for a moment to slow my thoughts and breathe deeply – and write (here I am!) for a few minutes. There isn’t time for everything – we have to choose. Choose wisely.

Time to begin again. 🙂

Tags anxiety, be here now, be the change, begin again, being and becoming, breathe, choose wisely, don't rush, emotional self sufficiency, experience, good self-care, meditation, mindful living, mindfulness, pace yourself, perspective, practicing the practices, ptsd, stop for a minute, sufficiency, taking care of me, TBI, The Art of Being, the pause that refreshes, there are verbs involved, there's no hurry, walking my own path, what matters most?

Categories Anxiety, Brain Injury, Free Will, Frustration, Healthy Living, inspiration, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Spring, Summer, The Art of Being

Today is Mine

June 5, 2018 //

I arrived home last night in due time. The ride from the airport to my place was efficient and pleasant, the taxi was clean, and the driver gave me a discount – for being nice. (What a peculiar world this has become, that basic civility and pleasantness are provided a cash reward, due to being uncommon.) The evening was relaxed; I’d left the house in a comfortable state to welcome my return. It’s a favorite practice; leave it as you’d wish to return to it. 🙂 A good practice in life, in relationships, in the wilderness, at my workstation, in the kitchen… I’ve yet to come up with an exception of any note.

A quiet evening passed gently, without fuss, suffused with the glow of relaxed contentment, and emotional riches. Clearly, I needed to reconnect with dear friends. I’m glad I made the trip.

I mostly slept well, last night, and slept in this morning. The night was interrupted by frequently needing to pee; Portland’s milder cooler spring climate does not require so much water consumption, and as is the way of things, my body naturally made that adjustment. lol I didn’t expect to sleep in so deeply, so easily – or so late, waking up well past 7:30 am. I felt great waking slowly, then attempted to stand. Every muscle protested, as though I’d done a lot of heavy lifting, or engaged in a grueling physical competition. I didn’t do any of those things – just spent a few days in the Fresno area heat, in the company of friends, going here and there, on my feet, back and forth, doing things, and stuff – mostly just hanging out. I feel like I’ve been beaten. LOL Fuck. The higher humidity of the Pacific Northwest grabbed me by the arthritis with a real commitment to making me pay for ever leaving. LOL

Yoga helps.

Mmmm. Coffee’s good, too.

More yoga helps.

I’m still stiff as hell, but I’ve got this beautiful day off ahead of me – and it’s all mine. I’ve no idea yet what I’ll do with it, but it is mine, and I’d planned it to recover from my trip away. Good call, too; I don’t need it as much as I thought I might, but having it feels like a wonderful way to care for myself. 😀

A beautiful day, a beautiful moment.

Golden morning sunshine peeks through the brash spring green leaves of the Big Leaf Maples beyond the deck, catching my attention with shifting breezes. A small brown bird hops here and there looking for seeds, and glancing at me expectantly; I wonder if there is recognition that the human primate is back, or specific understanding that I provide the seeds? The weather report suggests a pleasant high of 72, and a lovely day to be in the garden…

It’s time to begin again.

Tags be here now, be love, begin again, emotional self sufficiency, good self-care, I am my own cartographer, meditation, mindfulness matters, my home my rules my way, perspective, practicing the practices, ptsd, relationships, sufficiency, taking care of me, The Art of Being, there are verbs involved, today is mine, walking my own path, what matters most?

Categories Brain Injury, Free Will, gardening, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, Spring, Summer, The Art of Being

Begin Again… Again.

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Tending My Garden

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Why?

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What About You?

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Today is Mine

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