Archives for category: The Big 5
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Invited to Dinner, Left With the Check

March 6, 2015 //
2
One lovely day...

One lovely day…

Yesterday was exceptional.

Change is. Impermanence is. Human beings are human. We are each having our own experience. Fantastic days sometimes end with unpleasant emotional moments. I still slept. I woke to the alarm having slept through the night, once I fell asleep. My morning shower featured plentiful hot water. My coffee tastes good. I’ve got some uninterrupted quiet time for myself; morning yoga and meditation mellow me out before my brain attacks me with reminders of the unpleasantness the night before. I roll with it; more meditation.

The title isn’t literal; I don’t know people who would treat me that way in a literal fashion. I think the experience of being welcomed, then rejected later is probably relatively common. It feels crap-tacular, because rejection feels bad, and nothing more.  Rejection just doesn’t feel good.  Rejection feels even worse at the hands of loved ones, or people from whom we have any expectation of being supported emotionally. Delivering rejection to another person, though, is a useful tool for maintaining personal boundaries… Rejection from the receiving end, however necessary it may seem to the person delivering the blow, packs a huge emotional punch; we reliably take a step back from being rejected. Whether the moment of rejection seems unimportant to one person or another  isn’t relevant to someone else’s experience of the same moment.  Handled well, rejection is something small and we move on secure in the long-standing affection of the person asking for some space, or declining an invitation, or withdrawing from an affectionate moment, because that rejection wasn’t threatening in any larger sense; it probably still stung a little, and we let it go.

Delivering rejection with gentle courtesy and receiving it with gracious perspective are not the same skills. (For what it’s worth, I’ll observe that I lack skills in both areas, and this is not a blog post written from a place of hurt; it is a morning to consider where further growth may take me.)

It’s the ‘handled badly’ moments of rejection that devastate me, more often than not: the terse or angry words, the unexpected rejection, or the abrupt withdrawal of affection. I don’t doubt at all that I am perceived as stronger than I truly am; I know how I feel on the inside when I feel rejected, and I seriously doubt anyone who loves me would want me to have that feeling.  I am also much stronger than I understand, myself, because as dreadful as rejection feels – it is totally survivable. It hurts most to be rejected when I am attached to being accepted as a measure of affection or support; but we are each having our own experience. It is unquestionably going to be true that not every moment will be shared with me, and that not every moment shared with me will be lovely, loving, pleasant, joyful, or satisfying. Some moments are not for me. Some moments are not pleasant for me. Some moments will be more pleasant to contemplate than to live out. Some moments will hurt far more than seems reasonable, and linger too long in my consciousness. They are still only moments. Like so many things about thinking and feeling, although the feelings associated with rejection suck completely, they are still merely emotions; there is chemistry involved…our thoughts are chosen, crafted, built and nurtured from within – and they have only whatever reality or truth that we give them, ourselves.

Being rejected does suck…what sucks most about it, for me, is that I followed the moment of rejection almost immediately by also rejecting myself.  I followed implicit blame from someone else with explicit self-directed blame. I built on that self-directed blame by tearing myself down, and followed that by refusing comfort from the person who rejected me… it was a terrible way to treat myself, and I don’t recommend it at all.

There’s more to consider; the underlying concern still troubles me, but I am not strong enough this morning to pursue it with clear thinking. It is what it is; sometimes ‘taking care of me’ means allowing myself time to get past something that hurts before considering it further. It is a choice that prevents me from becoming mired in a negative emotional experience; a serious risk for me, and one of my challenges with my TBI. (The PTSD and TBI do not play nicely together.)

Strangely relevant; I had a very powerful, positive, growth-directing, encouraging therapy session this week…I am already having to rest on those skills, and feel sad that timing has been such that there was no opportunity to celebrate them. Even the slightest attention on those hurt feelings rouses the lingering feeling of rejection lurking in the background waiting to attack me again (I admit that I feel unimportant that this thing that matters so much to me, personally, was of no interest or consequence whatsoever to anyone else in the household that day; there were other things going on, and we were each having our own experience).  So, yeah, today dealing with feelings of rejection seems important… It’s time to take another step on the path of emotional self-sufficiency, and to learn more about counting on being accepted and encouraged by me, myself, with such strength and reliability that no external rejection can really touch me. (Hey, that’s a goal – maybe a little over-reaching, but it’s a start.)

Perspective promises so much... there are still verbs involved.

Perspective promises so much… there are still verbs involved.

Today is a good day to understand that rejection does hurt; but it’s only a moment, and an emotion. We choose to react or respond, we choose how important we allow the moment to be, and we choose whether to inflict additional suffering on ourselves as a result of rejection. Today is a good day to allow rejection to direct our attention to someone else’s needs or boundaries, and understand rejection as ‘poorly handled boundary setting’ with compassion, and acceptance. Today is a good day not to take rejection personally. Today is a good day to change the perspective on rejection. Today is a good day to change my inner world.

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Categories Brain Injury, Love, Mindfulness, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Spring, The Big 5

Evening Fades to Night

March 4, 2015 //
2

The last of twilight is gone. The house is quiet. The aquarium lights are off. There is stillness within, and stillness surrounding me. For many minutes I sat, also still, soaking in the awareness of the quiet, the serenity, the gentleness of the moment itself – neither extraordinary, nor memorable – before turning to words. Those sorts of still moments are so easily missed; it seems wise to savor them when I can, so I sat wrapped in the stillness, breathing, calm, content…really, just enjoying it. Awake. Aware. Compassionate and not judging; observing attentively, present and engaged. Words. Frustratingly, the words don’t do the feeling justice, at all. I am tempted to hit ‘save draft’ and crash for the night… I am not ready for sleep.

Evening light

Evening light

There are more things to consider than things that truly need to be said…or… said by me. Perhaps, tonight, fewer words, and a few more minutes to consider the words already said? More stillness. Some handful of moments smiling in the darkness, this gentle pleasant now a small gift from me, to me – the tiniest down payment on a substantial debt I owe to myself.

Spring flowers and ice.

Spring flowers and ice, a mixed message.

Not even 300 words…but I’ve been writing for more than an hour, pretty continuously. I get so far, then…delete back to the last thing that said…something. Words are failing me this evening. I’m okay with that…and that’s mostly what I am saying; I’m okay. For now. Generally speaking. I feel a feeling of safety built on my own strength, lately. I practice a lot of practices to be here for myself. (I’m not bitching – I’m just saying it’s not a magical transformation born of some ‘aha!’ moment; I’ve been working at this.) It’s been worth it. Start somewhere. Start small. Don’t quit. Enjoy the small changes; eventually the changes don’t seem so small, after all.

It's hard to photograph birdsong...

It’s hard to photograph birdsong…

Oh, hey…Seriously? There’s no magic to any of this. I still have bad days. I still make mistakes. I still struggle with challenges that may not improve much more and require good-natured self-acceptance, a sense of humor, and the will to just keep at it (because change is). I still cry when I’m frustrated. I still feel angry when I am mistreated. It’s all very human; that part just doesn’t change. I think, right now, in this quiet still and very peaceful moment, it’s easy to look past all the hard stuff. It does take practice. There are verbs involved. (Your results may vary.)

 

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Categories Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Spring, The Big 5, Words

Another One of Many

March 3, 2015 //
0

This is a lovely gentle moment. Last evening was also very nice. In between these moments, ideally, would be several hours of sleep. I am content with the handful of hours of sleep I got, and a couple more of rest and meditation, and I woke to my alarm feeling comfortable. My arthritis is felt as a distant thing, this morning, managed and of no real consequence. My coffee is very welcome. My jeans, a size smaller than I’ve been wearing, feel comfortable, relaxed, and soft against my skin, like very old broken in favorite jeans – a very nice way for a new pair of jeans to feel. There is a lot to smile about, this morning (and even most mornings).

I will take today as it comes, practicing good practices, shoring up practices that I know work that I may not be fully committed to, practicing not practicing practices that don’t work as well…and treating others well.

One spring moment of many, with all the possibility and potential of any new moment.

One spring moment of many, with all the possibility and potential of any new moment.

This is a lovely moment. Many of them are, actually, even in the face of my own chaos and damage; so often it is embracing the fundamental loveliness of some ‘now’ moment or another that calms my storms, and helps me ‘find my way home’ to a gentler heart. A few deep breaths, a moment or two of real stillness, the solitude to find calm; these are so essential to maintaining balance and building resilience. Learning to allow myself to meet those needs has been challenging, and totally worth the time and effort to learn, and to practice.

However loving the lover, however caring the caregiver, however tender the heart of someone who wants to support me, first and perhaps of greatest importance has been learning to love and care for myself, my own heart, my own life – and not because there’s no one else out there, or because others cannot be relied upon, or because the world is in any way ‘unworthy’ – but because it is my own ability, and will, to care for myself well that shows everyone else ways to love and care for me, too. Besides, who else would be a better fit as ‘lifelong super best friend’ for me than me?

Does it seem odd to bother with writing such a simple post, on such a slim bit of an idea? I find that some of life’s best bits are painted across my experience with a very delicate brush – it’s not all drama, big deals, or epiphanies. Some of the stuff that has mattered most to me is pretty simple, basic, every day living. I’m okay with that; simple is easier to practice. 🙂

Today feels full of possibilities. Today is a good day to embrace the moment with wonder and enthusiasm. Today is a good day to connect, and to say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’. Today is a good day to change the world.

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Categories Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Love, Mindfulness, Perspective, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, The Big 5

You Know What I Like

February 28, 2015 //
0

Well, or maybe not – especially if you haven’t asked, or I haven’t told you, or we don’t spend much time together…right? Assumptions tend to result in people having relationships and interactions with rather different people than the people involved are thinking they are, themselves. Like a lot of thinking, it isn’t ‘real’; it’s all completely made up. When I approached turning 50, I made a choice to take a much more genuine approach to my experience, generally, and I’m glad I did. It hasn’t been the easiest change to make; I can adjust my own thinking, and refrain from making assumptions, but I can’t do a damned thing about the thinking, or assumptions, of others – not even to wake them up to the rather significant changes in my approach to my own life and experience. I will be taking The Four Agreements with me out into the trees. It seems a good time to reread it.

Pop songs make so much of life, love, and sex sound incredibly easy. I don’t even find ‘being easy’ particularly easy in practice. It’s fortunately more amusing and bewildering than anything else, most of the time.

Do you know what I like? Even if you know me personally (and some of you do), even if you are an intimate associate or partner, what chance is there that you actually know me sufficiently well that you know what I like – right now, after a couple of years of intense growth and change, without actually asking me? Experience tells me that it is quite rare to be so well-known as a human being, even by the most connected and intimate associates, even after years of interacting, without at least some exchange of explicit communication.  To expect to be known so well in the midst of change, or at the end of a period of profound growth, doesn’t sound likely at all, and seems likely to cause all kinds of suffering.

I also notice that it is very uncommon for people who already know each other to make much effort to update their knowledge and expectations of their friends, lovers, or partners identities, preferences, aesthetic; the details that express the heart of soul of who we are. That seems very strange. I know assumptions have survival value – or we probably wouldn’t have developed to make so many of them – but they are not a particularly useful intimacy building tool… and yet, we cling to them, argue to defend our assumptions – even in the face of actual information.

Do you know what I like? More to the point – that person walking beside you in life, how about that person – do you know what they like? Do you listen when they talk about it? Are you interested? Does it matter to you? And you – do you feel heard? Recognized? Valued? Encouraged in your endeavors? Do you face holidays and gift occasions eager, and content in the knowledge that you are known, and understood? That what matters to you is significant in their experience because it does matter to you? Do you still look love in the eyes eagerly wanting to know more?

Oh, Baby, you knoooow what I like!

Oh, Baby, you knoooow what I like!

It’s a lovely gentle Saturday, spent on art, lattes, meditation, and some words – and questions. Today is a good day for questions. Today is a good day for presence. Today is a good day to be genuinely this woman I am; who else could do it better than I can? Today is a good day to change the world.

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Categories art and the artist, Brain Injury, Free Will, Logic & Reason, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Perspective, Relationships, The Big 5, Words

72 Minutes

February 25, 2015 //
0

I had an amazing evening with my traveling partner, last night. It didn’t end as well as it started, and I went to bed feeling off-balance and a little sad. I wrapped myself in my blankets and wept for a few minutes, even tolerantly allowing myself a few ‘it’s not fair!’ and ‘it isn’t me!’ moments. I didn’t notice, but at some point I realized I had moved on; my tears had dried, my breathing was deep, relaxed, and even, and my heart felt calm. 72 minutes. Tears became meditation pretty quickly, and very naturally, and I don’t know quite when, but it was 72 minutes from when they began to fall, to when I began to fall asleep, and realized that I was actually entirely okay in that moment – and that moments being what they are, the earlier one that caused the heartache was long over.

Moments are not a big deal; they are moments.

Any one moment, utterly unique, and filled with potential.

Any one moment, utterly unique, and filled with potential.

Moments do not define me. I define me.

We really, truly, are each having our own experience, moment to moment, day-to-day, and it any one such moment we may each – or all – be at odds with one another, because those individual subjective experiences are our world, and we view the rest through those filters, on the backs of our assumptions, and doing our best to find our way through our very own chaos and damage. “Being right” doesn’t really enter into it, for me at least, because “being right” is just as subjective as our experiences, themselves. The challenge for me, last night, was in figuring out how to stay aware and engaged with my hurting partner, and make room – compassionate, tender, understanding, supportive emotional space – for him to have his own experience right along side me having my own.

I have room for improvement. This is a very general statement I believe to be universally true of my experience.

So often things seem more complicated than 'this versus that'. Perspective matters. Relevance matters. Compassion matters.

So often things seem more complicated than ‘this versus that’. Perspective matters. Relevance matters. Compassion matters.

I found my way last night with the awareness that the moment didn’t define me. The challenge we were having communicating and loving wasn’t a characteristic of ‘who I am’ – it was a moment. A challenge. Sure, it’s pretty easy to take that challenge and turn it on myself as a weapon, but where is the value in that? Growing as a person is more easily fostered in gentle conversation, shared insights, connecting and discussing needs, limits, boundaries with compassion for each other, and present with each other even when/if we are hurting. (It sounds easier than it seems in the moment, at my current skill/awareness level.) Remembering that I define me, and that my experience of myself is 100% reliably true to the self that I am when I allow it to be was powerful.  However hurt a lovers feelings may be, those are their feelings, about a moment (their moment); their feelings do not define me, (and considering how little tie to objective reality emotions may truly have, it seems a very poor practice to internalize someone else’s feelings, or taking them on as characteristics that define me, for myself).

xxx

We each make our way using the perspective we have, and the tools we develop. 

I woke feeling pretty awesome this morning, and very centered. It’s a lovely way to start a day. Today is a good day to be reminded we are each having our own experience, and that they co-exist with equal validity. It’s a good day to reread The Four Agreements. It’s a good day for love.

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Categories Brain Injury, Healthy Living, Love, Mindfulness, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, The Big 5, Words
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