Archives for category: The Big 5

…Sometimes tears. Sometimes life is a party… sometimes it’s a sadder song. Today I practice because practicing is what it takes, sometimes more than others.

Sad songs ring truer tonight, and not for any obvious reason worthy of such moody bullshit. I sigh aloud in the quiet of my studio. No music playing; I have been yearning for quiet, and recognizing that the stillness I seek has to come from within, I continue to yearn, restless and weary, distracted and discontent. It’s a place. A state of being. One version of now, now and then. In every practical way I am okay right now, even mired in this feeling, stranded just on the edge of tears that have not yet begun to fall.

...What? All I said was "cry me a river"!

…What? All I said was “cry me a river”!

It’s a nothing much type of emotional trap; I feel terribly lonely, but having been thrown back into a lifestyle in which I spend 50+ hours a week surrounded by and interacting with multitudes of other human beings very much live and real-time, I am also feeling desperate to be entirely alone for at least a little while. I miss my traveling partner in a wholly discontented and irritable way, but find myself wondering with what’s left of a meager supply of wry amusement whether I would even be able to enjoy him if he were here right now. I’m irked with the whole mess, and feeling frustrated with myself, with circumstances, with life rather generally – which is entirely so much complete bullshit; I have what I need in life, and a good measure more. I’ve got very little to bitch about, frankly. Small shit… like emotional splinters; I can feel the irritation, the pain, the annoyance – but I can’t quite get a hold of the real issue to put it to rest. Rest. Maybe that’s the thing. I haven’t been sleeping well…

It's always a good time to begin again.

It’s always a good time to begin again.

Fuck the bitching. I’m constantly on about choices and practices and incremental change over time. Some tiny bitter corner within mutters “don’t hold your breath…” I’m in no mood for back chat from the woman in the mirror, tonight. I put on some music, apropos and gentle, and start down my list of crisis management practicesbefore I find myself in crisis.

[passage of time… no handy metaphor comes to mind]

It’s much later. Healthy calories, a tall drink of water, a luxurious shower with a favorite fragrance, warm dry clothes on a cold damp day, some yoga, meditation, a few minutes gathering my thoughts without any other agenda besides me, now, here. Stillness. A lack of distraction. A setting-aside of burdens – however small, however large, however urgent-seeming. Life moves so much faster now that I am back in the workforce. There is a lot about that which doesn’t suit me at all. It is, as they say, what it is. Making time for me is non-negotiable – when I don’t do it, I will pay a price.

I take some time to (be aware of and) respect my own feelings – that’s harder that it seems it could be, sometimes – tonight, for example. I’m frustrated by how easily “other people” (any other people) can change my experience “on a whim” – lack of planning, tantrums, coercive emotional bullshit, changes of plans… Circumstances or will; it doesn’t matter whether the intention is deliberate or even anything to do with me at all, sometimes the outcome affects me without regard to anyone’s specific will or intention. (…And now you know why “consideration” is one of my Big 5 relationship values; because without consideration the damage we do to those around us is frequent, unmanaged, unmitigated, unnoticed, and likely far more significant than we know.)

Closing in on my core needs with real awareness isn’t a comfortable process; some of what I need presents logistical challenges, emotional challenges, and definitely a big scary unsteady pile of verbs. I took time to give further thought to the cornerstones of this life I build for me: mindfulness, perspective, and sufficiency. I’m not sure I’m any closer. It’ll be a lifelong journey. Feeling the feeling of disappointed frustration, tears well up, my chest gets tight, and I feel stiff, as if resisting my feelings – or myself. I breathe deeply. Relax. Several more times. I pace around the apartment a bit, warm coffee mug in my hands. Thinking. Thoughts. The restlessness grows, the mindfulness pales. Shit. Begin again, I think.

Well, sure. This.

Well, sure. This.

Tonight is hard. Some nights are. My accounting of the facts of the day and evening indicate there is nothing really wrong, at all. I am okay right now. Life is pretty good right now. I’m not even in much pain right now. Last night I got the rest I needed. What is there to bitch about? “I feel trapped and pushed around” a tired voice in my thoughts calls back softly, and the tears come. Real or not, valid or not, support by facts or not… feelings. I am alone and safe here, and it is okay to admit that I feel. Sometimes the feelings are not the pleasant lovely ones. This too will pass. Pretty much everything pretty much nearly always does. 🙂

Eventually my tears stop falling. I sigh, and take note of my breathing. I nudge myself back onto healthy practices, and good self-care. I have more awareness of self, and a sense of the “real issues”; my autonomy and sense of emotional safety is feeling threatened by OPD (Other People’s Drama) in relationships that are not my own, and also a little overwhelmed by the amount of time I am having to spend “on my best behavior”, surrounded by people who are relative strangers in the work environment, and on top of that working purposefully to get back on track with a major life goal – a place of my own. (Really my own. Mine. As in – a homeowner. I want the safety and security of having my own place, no landlord, no tenant restrictions, no limitations on design, form, and function – artistically, aesthetically, and practically, actually my own home. A place to retire. To live. To thrive on my own terms.) It’s a lot to juggle to “be there” for people who are dear to me, also take care of myself, also go to work every day and do the things… So much going on. It’s daunting, and I guess I’m not surprised that I’ve hit a wall. I’m very human.

Today is a good day to slow down, listen deeply to my own voice, and take care of me. Today is a good day to love – and make sure some of that love is for the woman in the mirror. Today is a good day to be purposeful about the future, without letting it pull me away from this moment, now. There are verbs involved – and clearly, my results vary. 🙂 Tomorrow will be a good day to begin again.

I slept wonderfully well over the weekend, but my sleep last night was more typical of what I’ve generally be experiencing lately; interrupted, and less than ideal quality. I don’t beat myself up about it these days (that just adds anxiety and stress to already limited sleep).

Last night when I woke, I struggled to return to sleep because my heart was racing and I felt startled and breathless. I tossed and turned a bit, worked on managing my breathing and patiently waiting it out while my heart-rate slowed to a more normal beat. I don’t know what woke me. I didn’t recall any nightmares, but the physical experience was as if I’d woken from one.  If I’d been more awake when I woke, I’d have understood the wiser choice might be to simply get up for a few minutes of meditation, and to experience and savor the quiet in the wee hours, which I find very soothing. I didn’t do that. Eventually I still returned to sleep.

A basic morning.

A basic morning.

I woke again, earlier than the alarm, by quite a bit (an hour) but woke feeling fully awake; sleep at that point is a futile endeavor. I got up, did some yoga, had a shower, meditated, made coffee, all the things I associate with morning. I think ahead to a dinner date with my traveling partner, and shared friends; there won’t be time after work for housekeeping. I look around at a handful of chores I’d like to take care of before I leave for work. It feels comfortably satisfying to recognize both the need, and the opportunity, and to have a plan.

From a practical perspective, this is an ordinary enough Monday without anything remarkable ahead of me on the calendar. The holiday seasons creeps closer, but it’s on the other side of Halloween, which is still two weeks away. “Nothing to see here.” I close my calendar, my email, Facebook… the morning is mine to enjoy as I will, every moment entirely mine. Even my hand-held device is no temptation; it is busy with some upgrade or another, and exists set aside until later, when I leave for work.

I rely on my senses for information about the weather, listening to the bluster of the wind whipping distant trees about and casting multitudes of leaves into the air, to settle in drifts along the sidewalk. The rain spatters the windows, and rings melodically on the chimney and vent covers. I smile, remind myself to wear wet weather gear, taking a moment to also appreciate having made time to replace the worn and raggedy small cross-body bag I’d been carrying for three years that finally lost the last bit of utility in the rain and wind on the way home Friday. It was no longer anything resembling water-proof, as it was, and Friday’s fierce winds ripped the body of the bag free of any attachment to its strap, clips and seams breaking free, tearing loose, scattering contents to the wet pavement ahead of me. I had even laughed it off in the moment, more engaged with the exhilarating sensations of the wind in the moment.

I could have continued straight home on my tired feet Friday evening, and didn’t actually expect to find a suitable replacement for a bag I’d loved for so long; I used the need as an excuse to take a few minutes out of the rain, though, and a reason to take a less crowded train. It was happenstance that resulted in finding just the right bag at just the right price as I walked past a shop window for a retailer I didn’t intend to visit. Moments are sometimes a lovely intersection of choice and chance. Over the weekend, patiently and with great delight, I updated my “everyday carry” to suit the new bag, the new job, the changing season. A process of bringing order to chaos. Today the new bag gets its first day out. It’s a small thing, nonetheless I am smiling and enjoying the moment. Why not? It’s a lovely one. 🙂

Mondays have a bad reputation… This one seems quite nice so far, rain and all. I think I’ll take some time to enjoy that, this morning, before heading into the rain, to the office, to begin again. 🙂

This morning I woke too early, with a headache, and feeling uncomfortable and irritated. It’s a practical thing; I was awakened by the not-distant-enough whine of an idling freight train. It happens now and then. It is both intensely unpleasant, and utterly out of my control. It is also not a sound I sleep through easily… so… up at 3 am.

It’s almost 5 now. Though the whine persists, my anger and annoyance dissipated with practice(s): yoga, meditation (with ear plugs in, honestly), some quite housekeeping, a hot shower… and now, I hear the engine beginning to accelerate, slowly, and pull away. Finally. Culturally, and this is my opinion, we put (and allow) far too much emphasis on industry at the expense of quality of life. Noise pollution is a symptom. I wonder how many other people were wakened by the whine of the train this morning, maybe even not aware of what woke them, or why they woke with a headache this morning. How many bad moods in how many workplaces will it generate? I’m still a little cross about the noise; it’s hard enough to sleep well without that added to the mix.

a change of perspective

A change of perspective is needed.

I take a deep breath, and another, and have a sip of my coffee. I think about putting down roots. I think about my traveling partner. I think about the seasons, and upcoming holidays. For a moment, I even think about work. I let my thoughts pass through my consciousness without commentary or criticism; they are only thoughts. I have another sip of my coffee. I think about how fortunate I am, generally, and delight myself as some recent emotional highlights, beautiful memories, surface, are savored, and make way for the next recollection.

Simple moments of calm joy have value, too.

Simple moments of calm joy have value, too.

It was once a challenging practice to pause to appreciate, and to linger over, pleasant memories. Now it is a commonplace thing that I take time to enjoy regularly, and often find myself enjoying many delightful moments quite fully, in the moment themselves, without reservation or worry. A worthy practice, built over time, has become part of who I am. Although that was one desired outcome, it wasn’t initially something I felt I could count on. Incremental change over time is a thing; we become what we practice.

Where does your path lead?

Where does your path lead?

We become what we practice. Think that over for a moment… We become what we practice. Similarly, we tend to embrace as true just about anything we hear repeated a lot. So… if we hear and read hate, a lot, and we practice being hateful and angry, a lot… who do we become? Hateful angry people? Seems likely. Just saying; we can choose differently, and practice other things. It is literally that easy (and also that challenging).

What are you practicing? In your relationships – how do you treat your loved ones? Those behaviors are practiced. Out in the world, how do you treat others? More practiced behavior. When you interact through media, what communication habits are you practicing? When you filter events through your personalized world-view, more practiced behavior (and thinking) comes into play. What are you practicing? What settings do you tolerate in your ‘auto pilot’? Do you snap at people in the morning? Are you quick to anger? Prone to making assumptions? Attached to outcomes? Defensive or resentful? Dismissive, mocking, hurtful or mean? There isn’t much about how we behave (and how we think) that doesn’t at some point stem from things we practice, and in many cases practice quite willfully… It seems to me, this opens the door to a profound opportunity; we can choose differently, practice other things, become the person we most want to be.  This isn’t new thinking for me; I think about it a lot.

We become what we practice. We can change by choosing our practices differently.

I look back on the woman in the mirror with a certain amount of internal discomfort; although she has changed a lot over the years, we are one, and I still have to own some very unpleasant shit that I have said, and done. That’s part of the journey, too, sorting out the bullshit, recognizing and being accountable for poor decision-making, bad behavior, mistreating people, and making amends where I am able to do so… and where I can’t “make it right” in any practical way, making a sincere apology, remorseful, contrite, and honest about the damage done, and going forward practicing better practices.

Gracious sincere apology for wronging another is one of the most difficult practices, requiring a heightened level of awareness of another’s suffering, and compassion set to maximum. The more I grow as a human being, and the more I become the woman I most want to be, the more I am also aware of how human I am, and how much I have hurt others. Uncomfortable indeed, and certainly it sometimes warrants a sincere apology.

Here’s another day, and another journey. Today is a good day to treat myself, and others, truly well. Today is a good day to be considerate, and a good day to listen deeply. Today is a good day to be kind, compassionate, and gracious. If something goes sideways, and I miss the mark on any of those things, it’s also a good day to apologize and put things right.

The election is coming. Soon we’ll “all” vote. Actually, soon those of us committed to voting will mostly vote, some of us who are less committed will make the time for it, but a sadly large percentage of the eligible population will let the opportunity slip by. Still, Election Day is coming, voting will be done, and a decision will be reached that will affect the course of our lives for many more than four years to come. What are your values?

Pen and paper handy? ;-)

Pen and paper handy? 😉

I’m sitting here this morning contemplating values, value statements, and how difficult it is for people to answer the question “what are your values?”  For a long time I struggle with it, myself.  “What are your values?” isn’t properly answered by a statement of what decisions I would make based on the values I hold. “What are your values?” is also not seeking the same answer as to the question “what do you value?”, which could be seeking a material answer, or a state of being, more than the foundational underpinning of one’s decision-making, or personal… context?

I’m thinking about values this morning because the emotional fuss in my Facebook feed, and in the media generally, regarding the approaching election reveals a lot about people’s underlying values – things they can’t really “un-say” later. I find myself listening, and listening with great care and attentiveness. I’m not listening to which candidate any one person says they favor, it’s not about that; I’m listening to what people are saying their values are – what their deep down didn’t-straight-up-say-it-before-values are. It tells me about who they are, as human beings.

What are your values? Do you value respect? Do you value consideration? What about things like “truthfulness”, “family”, “education”, “power”, “strength”… there are so many things we might hold dear and build upon all our lives without naming quite clearly in our thinking – and without mindfulness awareness of who we have become over time. This morning it hits me differently, and I understand that the question “what are your values?” is another way of asking “who are you?”. The answer is far more telling, because it reveals some of the “why” as well as some of the “who”.

We let conflict creep into our values sometimes, usually a byproduct of bias, or due to having paid lip-service to something we think we should value, even though over time it becomes clear that our actual lived values are something quite different. Sometimes, the things we say we value… aren’t “values”, at all. In my own thinking, a value is sort of a metaphysical molecule in our understanding of the world, on which we build who we are, and guide who we will become. Some of what we value, we learn at home as children, and in school as we grow up. Some of what we learn is explicitly taught. Much of what we learn, for values, we just soak up as we grow, learning from those around us what is acceptable, what is not, and what is comfortable to say aloud socially, and these things become our values, implicitly. Many of us never reach beyond those early implicit values. Some of us must awaken to the bitter-sweet knowledge that our early life implicit value learning is deeply flawed, and we either lose our way in life, or carve our own path, under-taking to demolish old values, and embrace new ones. We’re very fancy primates to be able to reflect, to choose, and to change by the power of our will – and our practices.

We become what we practice. We practice what we value. What are your values? If you must make this journey, and there is no map, and you must rely on your values to guide you down life’s path, wouldn’t it be helpful to know what your values are, in a clear and simple way? (That’s intended as a rhetorical question, because the answer seems an obvious “yes” to me.) So… do you? Do you know what your values actually are, as you sit here reading these words? Can you name them? I found, when I started down this willful, mindful, careful path of practicing practices, taking care of me, and sorting out the chaos and damage, that I could not. I could not easily answer the question “what are your values?”, and honestly I found that fairly frightening. Was I really living my life based on decision-making resulting from potentially unknown values? Were my implicit values overdue to be reconsidered – and how would I do that, if I could not name them? I knew all my personal demons by name… how could I not similarly be intimately familiar with my values? Yikes.

That was some years ago. I sat down with pen and paper (those were things, back in the day 🙂 ) and three questions.

  1. What are your relationship values?
  2. What three values would you choose to build your life upon, if you were to choose your values based on adult experience and understanding of life right now?
  3. Do these values, taken together, allow you to continue to become the person you most want to be, practiced over time?

Finishing this exercise took several days of careful consideration, and reconsideration. The idea behind these particular three questions is a simple one; I interact with others, I exist as my own person, and I seek to grow over time. Answering these three questions provides me insight into doing those things with greater skill, and better outcomes. 🙂

I got tangled up in all the most common ways, considering these questions of values. I wrote paragraphs where a word would do. I lied to myself to align to cultural norms. I wrote answers that didn’t have anything to do with me personally but sounded great on paper. I stretched definitions to cover what I wanted to be real and true, rather than own my shit so I could make other choices. I fumbled in the darkness. I let myself approach these questions with new eyes each morning for days, and again every evening before I fell asleep. I wrestled with childhood baggage, and a lifetime of chaos and damage. I felt wrapped in wreckage, as if emotional concertina wire tightened around me as I struggled. Then I stopped struggling with the questions. I answered them, simply, and honestly, and accepting what matters most to me, personally.

For me, answering these three questions of personal values became my bridge between that woman struggling through so much chaos and damage, and that woman I most wanted to be… out there… that future me… a wiser woman, a kinder woman, a franker, fairer, more compassionate woman. Understanding that knowing my values explicitly would provide me a clearer opportunity to practice them mindfully was a wonderful moment of awakening. I don’t know that it is the sort of thing that is easily shared in words, but it has mattered too much not to try. (Hell, maybe I’m late to the party, and everyone else already got the memo…?)

What are your relationship values? These guide how you treat others, and how you allow others to treat you. They guide which relationships you’ll maintain, and which you’ll choose to walk away from – or whether you are able to choose to walk away, at all. (It turns out they also guide how we treat ourselves.) I talk about my “Big 5”; they are my answer to this question. (Respect, Consideration, Reciprocity, Compassion, and Openness)

What three values would you choose to build your life upon, if you were to choose your values based on adult experience and understanding of life right now? It didn’t have to be three, it could be two, or five, or 17 – although that seems excessive, and possibly difficult to manage. I chose three – because three is what I live, myself, and these are the values that I build my future on, and have chosen with deliberate care. They require practice, and ask much of me. In practicing them, they pull me toward my future. Mindfulness, sufficiency, and perspective are the three values I am choosing to build my life upon. It has made a great deal of difference in how I make decisions, and why I make the choices I do. What will you choose? What will you do about your choice? Having the intention, do you also have the will – and the verbs? There’s a lot of practice involved in this one, particularly if growth is part of the plan. It’s probably emotionally safer… easier, perhaps… to choose to answer this question only in terms of the being you are here, now. Even that is a significant improvement over struggling within the framework of implicit values learned in childhood without ever being considered with care. Make no mistake, this is a challenging question to ask one’s self, and the answer demands a lot of us once we know it. 🙂

Do these values, taken together, allow you to continue to become the person you most want to be, practiced over time? Simply enough, if the answer is clearly “no”… begin again. Ask the questions again. Consider the questions again. Answer the questions again. Consider your answers with great care; is this who you are? Is it who you most want to be? When the final answer is clearly “yes”… then the work begins in earnest, every decision, every choice, each moment, every day. There are verbs involved. Your results may vary. You’ll probably begin again, often. Still… in a life where you are your own cartographer, having your own experience, walking your own path, this seems a very good start to building a useful map. 🙂

So… what are your values? Whether you know the answer to the question or note, they will determine your vote in the next election, and in everything you do, and every relationship you have.  😉 Today is a good day to be who you are; every journey starts somewhere.

I dislike argument. There. I’ve said it.

One perspective of many.

One perspective of many.

I enjoy lively discourse. I embrace passionate discussion of individual view points. I cherish intellectual exchange, and sharing knowledge or perspective. I learn; I grow. Argument isn’t those things. Argument is a failed meeting of minds, in which individuals continue to insist on their own view, their own perspective, and fail to hear each other, seeking instead to persuade that their point is the correct understanding, and only that outcome will satisfy. Argument is often emotionally bullying, and more about intimidation and insistence, sometimes degenerating to insult, deceit, or emotional manipulation, to “win” the argument. No one wins, of course, and generally someone – often everyone – walks away feeling hurt, or misunderstood. Argument sucks, from my point of view, and I avoid it. I also have a brain injury that leaves me very vulnerable to being baited into an argument – being made entirely of human, this has made learning to disengage very valuable, and I continue to practice, with varying results. The verbs involved are those that make use of emotional intelligence, intent, free will, a sense of perspective, and a commitment to good emotional self-care; it’s a lot to juggle during an argument.  Once I realize I’ve been baited into an argument, I do my best to disengage graciously, and without malice or ill-intent. We’re all so very human… and some people actually like to argue; I’m just looking for the exit.

I'd rather love and be loved.

I’d rather love and be loved.

Last night I got baited into a political argument that at first glance looked more “discussion-worthy”, having been initiated by friends that I feel comfortable with and trust. Once I recognized I’d been drawn into an argument (with a commenting family member), I worked to extricate myself politely. This did not go as planned, and I became frustrated and emotional, and hung-up on some of the peculiar tactical linguistics in use.

I prefer authenticity over game-playing, and made a frank (and fairly vulnerable) statement that I was struggling with the conversation, possibly because my communication-style, and TBI, were making it hard to communicate easily, and that I was tired and not at my best. I expected, based on years of civil discourse with other human beings, that this would bring the conversation to a friendly, compassionate close, between equals – we’re family, so of course, we all have each others well-being and best interests mutually in mind… right? Nope. Not an ideal assumption, sadly; instead of support, I got a personal attack. It was weird, and frankly unacceptable. Rather like telling someone on crutches struggling to handle a door and some stairs simultaneously to “grow up” and “get over it”… instead of holding the damned door.  I was told by way of reply that I was “playing the victim”, and assorted such things. It was, from my perspective, hurtful, awkward, and… not something I personally care to foster in my own experience, certainly not from someone who says they care.

We’re still all human. All people. Each having our own experience. Each making our own way in the world without a map. My “Big 5” relationship values aren’t something I just say; they are how I build my relationships: Respect, Consideration, Compassion, Reciprocity, and Openness. An authentic statement of vulnerability given openly, met with something other than respect, consideration, or compassion, tells me something about the relationship in which the interaction occurs. If it occurs with a stranger, I just walk on. I don’t find it necessary to tolerate callousness or hurtfulness generally. When it occurs with a friend very dear to me on whom I can rely to be a good friend, clarifying questions seem appropriate (miscommunication is a thing that happens), but if it turns out I am incorrect about the quality of the friendship in the first place, and clarifying questions reveal that, I am inclined to walk on.

There is no requirement whatsoever that we maintain relationships with people who don’t treat us well. We choose our relationships. I experience no sense of obligation to invest in or maintain a relationship that doesn’t bring out my best qualities. Here’s something about me, though; I extend that to family, too. I pretty much always have – I grew up in a world where family was no more to be trusted than any other human beings, and possibly less so. Much less. I don’t have “family loyalty” hard-wired into my thinking, because for most of my life people who said they love me have been the first in line to do me harm. A lot of people behave in a way that suggests they find it more acceptable to treat family members poorly than they do strangers (for example, treating coworkers or the boss with more affection and respect than their partner, children, or siblings). I’m not those people.

I wasn’t always the person I am now, that’s pretty basic and obvious. From the vantage point of this woman, here, now, I make a point to treat people consistently well – whether they are strangers, lovers, family, coworkers, or friends. It’s a practice. I’m quite human, and my results vary. I learned a long time ago, though, that relationships among equals require all participants to use their words – and their verbs – and to be equally committed to similar shared values, otherwise the quality of the relationship suffers. Where these conditions are not met, and upon discussion it is clear that they won’t be… I walk on. I no longer allow my desire for connection and intimacy to be turned on me. It feels better to walk on, and build healthy relationships elsewhere.

Generally, we each feel we are the good guy in our own narrative, building an understanding of ourselves and the world around us that smooths life’s harder to grasp gray areas into sharply contrasting either/or propositions. Human primates like certainty. Once we feel certain, we hold on like our lives depend on it. I think, quite likely, the only thing that actually depends on us holding on to that feeling of certainty, is our sense of righteousness and place in the world. While I don’t personally feel a need to be right (I’d rather be love and be loved), I recognize that many people do – to the point of needing an argument; I walk on.

Assumptions about other people are a major relationship killer. Doesn’t much matter who is making the assumption; most of our assumptions about other people are incorrect. Seriously. Even mine. Even yours. It’s a very human thing. When we insist on our assumptions, holding on to them and building our reactions, our responses, our words, on the backs of those untested assumptions, we are no longer having interactions with each other in any authentic way; we’re having conversations with fictional characters who only exist in our own narrative, and disregarding the living being before us. Well… that sucks. I ask questions, practice testing assumptions, and practice being my most authentic vulnerable open and real self – and practice doing so without hurting other people. Being human, I practice rather a lot, my results vary nonetheless, and I’m entirely capable of succumbing to the worst of my very human self and being insensitive, hurtful, or callous. I value relationships in which a friend can say to me “I’m very hurt by that” without games or baggage, and follow through with an honest conversation about our interaction, their values, their needs, our shared experience – such openness leads to understanding, and growth. As with argument, or my Big 5, we don’t all seek the same things from our interactions with others, and we are not all seeking change, improvement, or growth; sometimes the wiser choice is still to walk on.

One rainy autumn morning, suitable for reflection - and taking care of me.

One rainy autumn morning, suitable for reflection – and taking care of me.

It’s a quiet weekend. I have time for thinking, time for writing, time for a third cup of coffee. The calendar reminds me I’ve set the day aside for taking care of hearth and home, a day of housework and tidying up planned. It doesn’t feel like a burden or obligation; the rainy day beyond my window suggests it will be a pleasant day of music, dancing through chores, and a crackling fire in the fireplace, spent taking care of me. How delightful! We choose our adventure. We choose our narrative. We choose how we face our day, and our circumstances. Today I choose great self-care, and a day spent creating the order that feels so good to me. I wonder for a moment if my vulnerability to being baited so easily last night is in any part a byproduct of perceived disorder in my environment…? I walk on from that, too. It is a day for verbs, for actions, for choices.

Today is a good day to create order from chaos. Today is a good day for deciding what to keep, what to let go. Today is a good day to tidy up loose ends, and reconsider what matters most. Each new day I can begin again. Each new day is a new opportunity to walk on from suffering, and to practice being the woman I most want to be. There are verbs involved. My results still vary. That’s okay; it’s enough.