Archives for category: The Big 5

Homecomings are special moments, at least for me. Even the small everyday homecoming of arriving home from work is a potentially beautiful and deeply connected moment with loved ones. When a homecoming goes wrong it hurts so much more than it probably requires, once considered with a full measure of perspective and compassion. I know this, because I have ruined a number of them, over the years. Along the way I have learned some things about homecomings:

1. Everyone is having their own experience, and has their own emotional investment in the outcome; making assumptions about exactly what it is, is a proven poor choice.

2. Unstated expectations are highly likely to be a factor in a homecoming going awry.

3. Everyone wants to share what’s been up with them during the time apart.

4. Being attached to an expectation, an outcome with an emotional investment behind it, or an internal narrative that no one else shares, is a shortcut to an unpleasant experience.

5. Even homecomings are about some very simple things: being accepted, being heard, and connecting.

Last night the travelers returned, and somehow managed to be unexpectedly early. Rather than being stressed out that I didn’t get to the house ahead of them to clean frantically (and mindlessly), I was delighted that they were home and safe. I arrived minutes later, and enjoyed my usually-at-home partner’s appreciation that I had stopped for cat food along the way (and she would not have to do so). I kept The Big 5 in play while they were away, and truly my partners are rarely far from my thoughts; the house was decently tidy, and small details matter. All weekend, I sought out little things to do that might result in a comfortable pleasant experience when the traveler’s returned.

It was a lovely homecoming evening, filled with laughter and shared stories, new art, and quiet conversation. I didn’t spend my solo time wracked with anxiety about housework; I painted. They didn’t come home to a disaster, because I also made a mindful effort to take care of things like dishes, and laundry, and routine chores (hey, I do have to live here, too! lol).  We didn’t ‘lean in’ to each other, allowing the greetings to be natural and comfortable, and the evening to be relaxed and leisurely. It was lovely.

The evening was short, of course. Both their arrival, and my return home from work occur slightly later in the evening, and once the car was unpacked, and calories were handled, showers finished… it was well into night. I spent some precious loving moments in the arms of the traveler returned home, too meaningful and valued to overlook, to personal and intimate to share further. I know I am loved.

Quite a nice homecoming.

I also slept incredibly badly, restlessly, and drenched in sweat – hot flashes? Misery. I woke with a headache, stuffy sinuses, and arthritis stiffness that renders my movements almost puppet-like. Still, no complaints from me, because those are not the details that define my experience.

"The Stillness Within" 8" x 10" acrylic on canvas with glow.

“The Stillness Within” 8″ x 10″ acrylic on canvas with glow, 2014

Today is a good day for love. Today is a good day to change the world.

This is a very different morning experience I am having today. I am the only one at home this weekend. I wake in the usual way – ahead of the alarm by a few minutes, after decent enough night’s sleep, with a moment of wakefulness in the night, but mostly uninterrupted. I am, however, as individual as any one other human being. My experience is changed by solitude. We are each having our own experience. My solitary morning experience is still leisurely, still what I myself consider ‘quiet’ and lovely…but my second choice upon rising was turning on the stereo, checking that the volume was not set on ‘stun’ and the bass level wasn’t going to annoy the neighbors, and I turned on Legion of Boom by The Crystal Method.  It’s almost like a secret identity; I make different choices when I am living alone, however briefly, than I do when I live with other people. The music is the big give away. I rarely begin my day in silence when I live in solitude. It’s not that I don’t enjoy the silence…I just like to start my morning with some rambunctious beats. lol.

Yoga feels different listening to house music, or nerdcore,  or punk, or industrial. Music is a mind-altering drug.

So. This morning the house is filled with…well…’house’. LOL My yoga sequence felt powerful, and strong. I ‘find myself’ differently, and experience different facets of who I am with the music playing in the morning. Sometimes when I enjoy the morning with my partner, we have some music quietly in the background, once ‘everyone is awake’. When it’s just me? Cranking the bass, and starting the morning with sound, and motion, is the way it’s done, and I almost dance through my morning.  I find myself wondering if we can ever really know each other; there is so much beyond the moments we share, and the choices we make when we do. The precious depths of the wellspring of who we truly are can be incredibly difficult to fathom in the company of others.

Getting close up and personal...with myself.

Getting close up and personal…with myself.

When my partners are home, starting the day with loud music, amazing beats, and a bit of volume on the bass isn’t appropriate; people are sleeping. Consideration dictates other choices. It’s not about repression, loss, fairness, or giving anything up; it’s not a martyrdom, it’s just one of love’s many choices to compromise to enhance the experience we share. Love itself makes these solitary mornings incredibly precious to me; they are a rare gift from my partners, to me, and it would be disrespectful and ungracious not to turn the stereo up first thing this morning and enjoy the moment. 🙂

"...you don't get open, you just are open...but open like what?...

“…you don’t get open, you just are open…but open like what?…

This morning? Definitely having my own experience. I am. This fragile vessel of flesh and heartache isn’t ‘me‘ anymore than my dreams and nightmares are ‘me’. I’d love to learn emotional intimacy so well, and become so skilled with my relationship building, and connecting with others, that I could easily share ‘who I am’ when I am alone, with everyone I love. This is a very cool part of me to know…

Like a flower on a sunny day, like a child's mind... totally wide open.

Like a flower on a sunny day, like a child’s mind… totally wide open.

Today is a good day to begin with music. Today is a good day to be who I am. Today is a good day for wide-eyed wonder, and all the hope and promise in new choices. Today is a good day to nurture the best within myself, and share that, too. Today is a good day to change the world.

I’m groggy this morning, and fighting fatigue and arthritis pain. Well, not ‘fighting’ them, so much as acknowledging and accepting them, doing what I can to improve the situation, and moving on. Yesterday was one of those busy sorts of days that pushes the limits of endurance, and skill, and ends with a feeling of profound satisfaction in job well done, which was awesome. This morning, however, I am groggy. I was so tired after work yesterday I crashed much earlier than usual. After a couple of hours of deep sleep, I spent the night waking more or less hourly in response to my brain tossing work-related questions at me all night, which I dutifully woke myself to answer, before returning to sleep. It was not the most restful night of sleep I’ve ever had, and waking to the infernal beeping of the alarm, which rarely happens, isn’t a pleasant experience for me.

I feel ‘behind’ on everything this morning. My consciousness feels fuzzy and somehow always arriving late for the moment I’m in. There’s not a lot to say about this state of being. It is what it is. It will pass. It is relevant but unimportant. It’s ‘weather’, not ‘climate’.

Yoga, meditation, a shower, espresso, correspondence, Facebook… and now, a few moments, a few words, the rhythmic sound of fingers on keys; a new day begins.

I have no keen observations on my very human experience this morning…only observations of the most mundane sort: my room is untidy, in spite of my love of order, and this is telling. I tend to descend into disorder under stress. My hands are not as neatly manicured as usual, and I’ve bitten my pinky nails down to the quick; this also tends to be limited to times of stress. In the past 10 days, I’ve had two headaches that felt like transient ischemic attacks, which I had fairly regularly for many years, but which I’d not been having for a long while (about 4 years, I think). I associate that experience with stress, too, although it could perhaps be something else altogether.  Interestingly, I don’t feel – emotionally – as if I am under a lot of stress.

A moment of stillness can change so much.

A moment of stillness can change so much.

I take time to meditate a few more minutes, and return to writing feeling calm and content and soothed. Keeping an eye on stress matters. It’s not generally necessary to exist under that amount of stress; I have choices I can make to alleviate a lot of it. It helps to know where it is coming from. In this case? Work. Yep. Simply that.  I experience some internal conflict over it, because on the one hand – it’s amazing work, I’m good at it, and I’m valued… but feel some performance pressure, nonetheless, to really ‘wow’ the company I work for.  Pretty common, I’m sure. On the other hand? Well, frankly… I don’t place a high value on being an employee, on ‘gainful employment’, or on ‘having a job’, because these are not experiences that define me as a human being. There is so much more to me than work! I’d happily retire this very moment, if I were financially prepared to sustain a simple life of sufficiency for the 30-60 more years I might be around. I’m not, so I can’t… the stress I’m experiencing comes from being aware of how little I actually ‘care about’ work, in the face of how much pressure there is to do it very well right at the moment. Quite a balancing act.  I find myself surprised every time I meet someone who claims to really want to be employed. I’ve been working on figuring out how to be retired since I was about… 18. I have stuff I’d like to do, and so little time for me…

My at home partner becomes a traveling partner tomorrow.  I’m sure I’ll miss her.  There’s a small amount of stress there, too… both partners away for days means a weekend of painting, and I’m so excited about that time for myself, that I have the sense of it being ‘inappropriate’ or somehow unkind. Silliness, and I recognize it as such, but there it is. I am so very human.

I take another moment or two more for meditation, self-compassion, loving kindness, and awareness of how good it feels to have this time to meet such an important need for myself. Content solitude is a precious gift of love, and I’m eager to honor it, savor it, and take advantage of it creatively.

Awareness and presence need no excuse, but do require practice.

Awareness and presence need no excuse, but do require practice.

Today is a good day to be who I am. Today is a good day to be considerate of myself, and others. Today is a good day to celebrate small successes, small victories, and everyday joy. Today is a good day to appreciate that we’re all experiencing our own pain, and to be mindful that a moment of compassion can make a big difference in the world. Today is a good day to be gracious, and to be generous. Today is a good day to change the world.

Yesterday feels very far away from this morning. For me personally, it was eventful and busy. For the world, filled with turmoil, conflict, confusion, suffering…and not much more if you rely on the news for your information. Babies were born, though, and are loved. People find each other, connect, experience passion, romance, and love each other. The vast quantity of human knowledge grew a little more, although it’s hardly going to make a dent in the even more vast quantity of knowledge we don’t yet  have. There was sunshine, and storms, rain and breezes; there was weather. Some people shared what they have. Others guarded their assets closely. Sick people were cared for, and the dead were mourned. The living thrived in various degrees, struggled, faced challenges, grew as individuals, made choices great and small. It was a day, and it is behind me now, in the past.

We exist in the context of our experience.

We exist in the context of our experience.

Funny how our choices and experiences build our future out of that past bit we’ve already had. We’ve got right now, if we need to make still  more choices, tweak things a bit, or reach for some desirable moment or object on the horizon. My yesterday has a ripple effect well into the days ahead, that much I can see and is very real to me. What about days further out? Or years? Those, too, may be affected by yesterday, but when I get there will I have any awareness of the moment of yesterday that I’m standing on?

My traveling partner is heading to a festival next weekend. My at home partner is taking advantage of an exciting opportunity to join him there, and have an experience. I am excited for her; it will be a very new experience. I’m happy for him to enjoy the companionship of a loved one at the event. I am not suffering, because the ripple effect washes over my own experience most pleasantly; I will have an uninterrupted weekend to paint. It’s a rare treat, and already a stack of new canvas waits for me, and I am immersed in inspiration, and eager to begin work. It’s still days away. Days of delightful anticipation, and planning, and considering the moment to come with great joy. (I hope my partners have even half as much joy and wonder in their weekend experience as I get from painting.)

The artist within is already hard at work.

The artist within is already hard at work.

These days of planning are important for me. Taking care of me, and being self-sufficient as an artist with a brain injury, means taking steps to ensure I do stop painting to eat, care for myself, and handle daily chores (like feeding the pets and attending to their needs).  Without some structure, I lose myself in inspiration and put my health, sometimes my safety, at risk. (I once filled my apartment with smoke and almost asphyxiated myself while doing sketches and watercolors of… smoke; a neighbor broke in on my reverie, and possibly saved my life.) So, the next day or two is about supportive infrastructure – alarms, reminders, notes to myself stuck here and there, little attention-getters to ensure I eat, sleep, and take care of what must be done, so I can be free to paint. For days. I’m very excited.

I can be amusingly impractical. My at home partner is eager for my needs to be met by this change of plans, herself, and excitedly pointed out that I’d have the car all weekend. I felt puzzled about the relevance of that, and it was not until this morning, in the shower, that I realized that although I know I am not likely to go anywhere while I’m painting, that may not be obvious to anyone else. lol Perspective isn’t just helpful, some things are not understood without it.

Balancing the practical and the emotional is part of the ongoing experience of studying perspective, of being mindful, and of understanding sufficiency.

Each moment, each experience, utterly unique, and entirely our own making.  Choose wisely.

Each moment, each experience, utterly unique, and entirely our own making. Perspective matters. 

Today is a good day to be a student. Today is a good day to consider choices, and choose wisely. Today is a good day to treat myself well, and kindly, and show the world similar care and good treatment. Today is a good day to move softly through shared space. Today is a good day to consider how I can help ease someone else’s burden, even if for only a moment. Today is a good day to change the world.

This is not a travel post. I say so simply because the title might lead one to believe, for a moment, that it is – especially if stumbling on this blog for the first time, and being unfamiliar with my rather loose and abusive way with words. (Not abusive of other people, no, abusive of the words themselves, I’m afraid, exploiting them night and day for metaphors, and forcing them to behave in accordance with my will, and whim.) So, here we all are. It’s early, I’m feeling playful, and… right. Let’s begin, shall we? 🙂

Flowers are a lovely place to begin, with a deep breath, and a moment of wonder.

Flowers are a lovely place to begin, with a deep breath, and a moment of wonder.

I’m still contemplating perspective. There seems so much to learn from that. My three foundations stones to becoming the woman I most want to be are rock steady, reliably serve me well, and can be counted on to be some part of ‘restoring order’ when chaos begins to take over. I have grown to count on them: mindfulness, perspective, and sufficiency. Perspective proved its worth yesterday, when my good mood slipped, in a moment of rather childlike feelings of loneliness, isolation, and distance, which overcame me in the evening. My internal insistence on gaining – and maintaining – healthy perspective in the moment, and being mindfully aware of my emotions, and allowing myself their utter humanity in a kind way resulted in writing, re-writing, considering, re-considering, drafting, editing, contemplating words in email form for some time, stripping out the drama, trying again…all to find my way to simply communicating to my traveling partner that in that moment missing him seemed almost unbearable, and I felt sad without that connection, not just of flesh but of heart as well. I suspect I failed more than I succeeded, but waking this morning I find myself content that I made such a solid effort, and managed to remain largely very positive, and found that emotional resilience exists, and that balance was possible. Still…A+ for will, for intention, for effort… perhaps a C, at best, for my imperfect results…and the outcome was off the charts for success, because Love is what it is, and does what it does, when we allow it.

What we see of a 'bigger picture' is rarely 'all there is'...

What we see of a ‘bigger picture’ is rarely ‘all there is’…

It didn’t hurt that he phoned me straight away, reading in my email that I felt disconnected and lonely. It was lovely. A short call, a connection across the distance, a moment to hear each other’s voices.

...What matters to us, as individuals, in the moment, is as much as matter of choice as happenstance...

…What matters to us, as individuals, in the moment, is as much as matter of choice as happenstance…

(Notice I say nothing about whether or not these are effortless choices. Choice generally does require some effort, some exertion of will, some intention.)

...our focus, where we direct our attention and our effort, change what we see and understand of the world. We are each having our own experience.

…our focus, where we direct our attention and our effort, changes what we see and understand of the world. We are each having our own experience.

What is important to a bee, on a summer day, in a field of flowers, does not set a standard in my own experience of ‘what matters most’, nor does the individual understanding of ‘what matters most’ held by any one other human whose experience abuts or overlaps my own; it’s more than a requirement that I set my own standard, choose my own course, follow my own map – it is unavoidable.

Taking a step back brings perspective; the small stings and stresses of life are small indeed viewed in a broader context.

Taking a step back brings perspective; the small stings and stresses of life are small indeed viewed in a broader context.

So, this morning I am contemplating what I am learning about perspective. My current notions suggest to me it is essential to my long-term emotional health, and for living life from a place of contentment. My experience of life is something like an unimaginably vast jigsaw puzzle – with one piece missing. Over time, more pieces are gently placed in my puzzle, and I see more of the picture developing before me…and there’s more.

However lovely the picture in my puzzle, before it becomes a picture, the puzzle must be completed. It's about the journey, more than the destination.

However lovely the picture in my puzzle, before it becomes a picture, the puzzle must be completed. It’s about the journey, more than the destination.

Today is a good day to practice what works. Today is a good day to reflect and consider how the pieces fit, and what I can learn from my experience. Today is a good day for perspective. Today is a good day to acknowledge my challenges as my own, cherish my efforts, and recognize my successes; the smallest success in life is worthy of celebration. Today is a good day to put down baggage. Today is a good day to laugh over common struggles. Today is a good day to change the world.