Archives for category: War and News of War

I am fortunate that I slept last night. I wasn’t sure I would when I laid down to attempt it. An unexpected rise in the OPD [Other People’s Drama] levels in my life occurred on an order of magnitude sufficient to rouse my PTSD, and it hit me hard and derailed my pleasant evening.

I find myself making a funny face in response to calling it ‘unexpected’, when I consider the source; some people are OPD embodied, and once identified the only thing unexpected is that I found myself mired in it again.  It’s morning, though, and I did sleep, and my coffee is hot and tasty… it’s very tempting to stand in the patio doorway and shout into the dawn “You have no power over me!!” It would feel good. It would feel affirming. It would feel powerful. It would be dishonest – because I sit here, even now, concerned for my traveling partner and how he is treated by an entirely other human being than myself, and struggling to let it go. Truly, it’s not my relationship, not my drama, not my experience, and realistically I know the healthiest thing for me is to trust my traveling partner to take care of himself and make the best possible choices that meet his needs over time, and simply be here for him if he turns to me for help.

It’s hard to stand by and watch someone I love being chronically mistreated. I sometimes find myself feeling guilty for leaving a bad situation, myself… I know what long-term abusive behavior can do to one’s heart, mind, and soul – and there’s nothing of value to be had from that experience, besides leaving it behind with lessons learned. It is, of course, my own perspective on things, and because I have been more severely abused in other prior relationships and bear witness quite personally to the damage done, my testimony itself may be suspect – I am damaged, and it colors my perception. This doesn’t make me ‘wrong’ or ‘incorrect’ or lacking in ability to share my experience then (or now) – but it gives people who want to doubt me quite a lot of basis to support their doubt if they choose to. That’s more OPD in the making right there; putting doubt in my path as a sort of mirror of damage reflecting into another mirror of damage, and me sandwiched between defending my perspective and wondering what’s real.

I know some things from experience. I know leaving an abusive relationship behind doesn’t result in immediate cessation of suffering, nor guarantee healing – there are verbs upon verbs, and much practicing to be done to return to a state of wholeness and wellness. I know living in the context of abuse and mistreatment has literally no positive qualities to be had – and that people who are abusive may or may not ever change their behavior (or their intent), and whether they do or not, the damage is done. I know that I alone have the power to choose to walk away from being abused – and no one, however close to me, can make that happen, or ‘fix’ what doesn’t work on my behalf – and I know this truth is quite true for everyone who chooses to love someone who mistreats them. However much I love my traveling partner – I can’t rescue him from being mistreated in a relationship with someone else. That frustrates me, and the process of ‘being there’ for him when he needs emotional support re-exposes my own wounds, and my PTSD symptoms flare up with all the potential to wreck my experience – in spite of having walked away from the most recent direct source of that particular sort of chaos and damage. I know that my first order of business is taking care of me; I can’t be there to provide support to those I love without putting my own oxygen mask on first.

The lingering after-effects of emotional or physical abuse are quite lasting for me, reaching out from the distant past to strike me in my  present, taking me by surprise when I think I am safe. “You have no power over me!” is what I want to shout to the demons in the darkness – if I do, they will titter in the background, amused by my presumption; they are as powerful as ever, and every single day of joy I experience is taken from them by force: force of will, force of good practices, force of good choices, and the utter necessity to choose to turn away from them (whoever embodies them in my ‘now’) willfully again and again. The power they don’t have, though, is huge; they do not have the power to choose my response to their existence, and they do not have the power to determine my actions. I am free to continue to choose to walk away from OPD, and to decline to be mistreated; that’s always mine.

I don’t say much about the other person involved in all this, and with good reason; that person is not here to speak up in their own behalf, to offer mitigating information, to clear up misconceptions, or offer perspective – and we are each having our own experience. Most of us wander around fairly cluelessly hurting others, not by intent, but generally out of inattention, lack of skill in relationships, bad habits learned in childhood, or because we understood things differently after filtering reality through our own chaos and damage. I’m not sitting in judgement on someone else’s shitty behavior; I am entirely focused on taking care of me, learning from life’s curriculum, and distancing myself from people who mistreat me. I am distracted from those tasks by my concern for my traveling partner, and his experience…and I got sucked into the OPD by mistake last night, in the process of supporting my partner with kindness, compassion, and a ready ear, that’s all.

Enough.

Enough.

It’s morning, now, and I got the rest I needed last night, and woke feeling comfortable, rational, and content. It’s hard to want more than that, and it is more than I expected when I laid down to sleep last night. It’s enough.

Please take care of you, today, people – you are worthy of your very best care, your best treatment, your best manners, your greatest kindness. Please treat others well today, too; we are each having our own experience and you do not know what demons someone else may be dancing with in the darkness. (If your only way to treat yourself well is to treat others poorly, you’re not getting how this works – just saying.) Treat the people you love as if you love them; they deserve 100% of the best you have to offer the world, always.  It’s never too late to stop mistreating people, applying Wheaton’s Law is a good start.

A quality of The Art of Being struck me with force yesterday; there is no ‘blank canvas’ once we get started, not generally. We only get the one blank canvas, and ever after must add, correct, adjust, change, modify, paint over, or enjoy the work in progress, as is it is. I’m not complaining; it’s the biggest canvas ever, and when we get started it seems as if there is no likelihood of filling it with our vision – it’s that huge. When we start, we lack vision, we lack composition, we lack technique – but we also lack doubt, and we are not self-conscious about The Art of Being; we begin the thing fully engaged and present…and doodling, metaphorically. I mean…few of us are, as children, what we will become as adults.

"Broken" 14" x 18" acrylic and mixed media with glow.

“Broken” 14″ x 18″ acrylic and mixed media with glow. 2012

Yesterday, a bad bit of earlier work beneath some lovely very new work on the canvas of my experience produced a predictable enough moment of misunderstanding. I’ve spent enough time wading through the wreckage that it feels fairly normal…I forgot that it is ‘wreckage’, and shards of chaos and damage. Violence and ancient pain have left their mark on me, and although most days it’s just a smudge on the corner of my canvas, yesterday it was as if India ink had been spilled, blotting out a bit of the good work of later years, seeping through from underneath.  For just a moment, it felt as if perhaps the whole piece was ruined – it can so easily look that way if I forget that my metaphorical canvas never dries, and is never completed.

"You Always Have My Heart" 8" x 10" acrylic on canvas with glow.

“You Always Have My Heart” 8″ x 10″ acrylic on canvas with glow. 2014

The challenge, and the life lesson, are once again about attachment. Attachment to outcomes, to emotions, to people, to moments – however lovely, moments are still quite fleeting, ephemeral, and in a sense quite unrepeatably unique. Life is always ‘live’. People persist in being quite human. The shadows cast by past violence are but shadows, however ‘real’ they feel in some later moment. Then there’s this; because so much of my experience is ‘made up’ content built of my assumptions, my thoughts, and my memories, filtered through my values, prejudices, and perspective, I am very much at risk of becoming attached to something that doesn’t really exist, isn’t what I perceive it to be, or isn’t shared in the way I may want it to be. The Art of Being is art because the limitless power to create even who I am has no rule book, no instruction manual, no single scalable process with a reliable error-correction cycle, no universally shared measurable quality that all agree is ideal…I choose who I am, I choose my words, I live my life…but it isn’t ‘paint by numbers’, and some days it obviously lacks technique, or skill…some days the art doesn’t move me, some days it isn’t pretty.

Unfinished canvas...what will it become when the moment arrives?

Unfinished canvas…what will it become when the moment arrives?

Take a moment to consider how little technical mastery, great design, composition, fame, or expertise actually matter when we see something that delights us aesthetically. I have been as captivated by a child’s unskilled painting as by a masterpiece; the engineering and craftsmanship are not the defining qualities of ‘art’, although some art certainly shows amazing engineering and craftsmanship.  I am finding this true of life as art, too. What moves us isn’t always easy to understand. Certainly, what moves us isn’t always understood by others.

"Kuwait; Oil Fires" 26" x 48" oil on silk.

“Kuwait; Oil Fires” 26″ x 48″ oil on silk. 1992

The Art of Being as an approach to learning life’s lessons, living beautifully and mindfully, and being the woman I most want to be is a powerful act of self-compassion, and self-nurturing; as a metaphor it allows me to take a step back, and view life from another perspective, as an artist at work on something wonderful might be inclined to do, reconsidering something on the canvas, and taking time to touch it up, or understand it differently.

"Communion" 24" x 36" acrylic on canvas w/ceramic details 2010

“Communion” 24″ x 36″ acrylic on canvas w/ceramic details 2010

Today is a good day for a metaphor. Today is a good day for life as art, and to study The Art of Being. Today is a good day to feel pleasure in spite of heart ache, and to love the canvas in front of me enough to keep working on it – and to do my best work, mindfully, and with love.

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

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

Yesterday had its challenges. New physician, time for a physical, and that means medical history questions. I’ve come a long way… it’s still hard to watch dispassionate professionalism morph within minutes to troubled compassion…then…appalled saddened dismay. It’s hard to answer some of the seemingly simple questions; the ‘when’ questions about surgeries become ‘why’ questions so easily. Questions about ‘how it happened’ easily become tears. I left my appointment really proud of my strength; I said things yesterday I’ve never been able to just say to a doctor before, and I didn’t need a tissue, just some time to breath.  It felt like a A+ on a report card. It felt like an achievement. I headed home feeling… proud of myself.

I arrived home feeling something too… only… what? My traveling partner observed fairly quickly that my demeanor and tone seemed a bit ‘on edge’. I held on to some hope that I could just get past that with some small effort… and then I just didn’t. Within minutes some perfectly unimportant moment of tension, resulting from a bit of miscommunication, turned into a PTSD reaction, complicated by a disinhibiting brain injury. I fell apart – how could I… why can’t it… why doesn’t it ever seem to end…? My traveling partner caught the emotional blast head-on, and performed a heartfelt act of emotional heroism; he rolled with it and supported me with a best effort that proved to be ‘enough’. Neither of us was aware in the moment that I might be reacting to my appointment – I didn’t take time to evaluate that sort of thing until later. I was too busy trying.

My dear love’s stroke of genius  – an intellectual distraction and a shared creative project – pulled me back from the brink of hysteria and rage, and along the way opened my eyes to a couple of things I may be able to use, for myself, later on (hint: there seem to be ‘lucidity’ gaps in the chaos these days; I am hoping to learn to take advantage of them).  I need time to think them over before I share more. Actually – I need quite a bit of time, to think a couple of things over that I have lacked ‘the time’ to really meditate on and process fully.

My choices reflect poor self-care practices, and I need a break from a whole host of small things draining my bandwidth and my emotional resources.  Specifically? I need back all the time I currently spend on digital information. It’s crept up on me over weeks and months – bad habits returning. So, I’m taking a short break from the digital empire, logging off social media accounts, distancing myself from email communication, and here, too… setting a specific expectation that I’ll be gone for a few days, taking care of me. Sort of an ‘elimination diet’ for the mind, I suppose.

The sun rises; even on the busiest morning, taking time for a sunrise matters.

The sun rises; even on the busiest morning, taking time for a sunrise matters.

Today is a good day to watch the sunrise. Today is a good day to invest in the very best self-care. Today is a good day to say ‘thank you’ to the people who support us, even when we hurt them most. Today is a good day to take a break from the world.

Sometimes I’d benefit from leaving myself a gentle reminder to be gentle with myself. This morning I was fortunate that I got that reminder from my observant traveling partner, who understands that if my routine is sufficiently disrupted, particularly in the morning, it can affect my mood and my behavior profoundly. My routine was surely ‘sufficiently disrupted’ this morning, and not in any unpleasant ways. I woke to the sound of humor and love in my partner’s voice, waking me seconds before the strident beeping of my alarm to alert me that the shower was already hot, and did I want him to leave the water running for me? How considerate! The hot water-no waiting was a lovely follow-up to his voice, and his smile, but it through all my usual actions quite out of sequence. I remembered to take my medication straight away, and being entirely focused on that detail, I failed to observe that I didn’t meditate, do yoga, drink 16 ounces of water during my first waking hour, or write… and these things all matter, and are all important elements of taking care of me. His awareness and kind reminder put me back on track, and that will be very important later today.

I woke with a nasty headache this morning, and I’ve been struggling with unexpected nausea, these on top of some entirely unexpected spotting yesterday tend to suggest hormones. This is supported by unusual fatigue yesterday, and some moments of unusual volatility and emotional weirdness over the last couple days. On one hand it was much easier to recognize and deal with my hormones when bleeding was predictable, expected, and fairly routine…on the other hand, this is just not that bad, and doesn’t really amount to ‘hormone hell’… more like…’hormone heck’, or ‘hormone inconvenience’. lol I’m okay with that.

I still feel groggy this morning, like my head just hasn’t quite cleared since I woke. My consciousness has a quality similar to ‘dreaming’, even though I am quite awake…I feel foggy, my thinking seems fuzzy and irrelevant, and I think I could lay down and immediately return to sleeping with ease. It will pass; there is no permanence in our consciousness that we don’t choose – and I say this will pass. Surely with the help of the second tasty latte this morning (thank you, Love!), it will pass quickly. 🙂

The news and Facebook are filled with articles, posts, and media references to The Torture Report – I’m not going to link to it, simply because I don’t want a legacy of that ugliness attached to this blog. I’m opposed to torture. I’m opposed to violence – particularly used to control, or coerce. I don’t see much difference between domestic violence, bullying, or torture, honestly – the differences are differences in magnitude perhaps, but certainly not differences in kind. It’s just not okay to hurt people, to willfully engage in acts that knowingly injure another. It’s not okay to inflict pain or injury on another person willfully. (Let’s not muddy these waters discussing the very different issue of extreme sex play between consenting adults.) The very idea that there are people in power who will excuse torture, on any terms whatsoever, is offensive. Count on me not to vote for even one candidate who supports torture, however ideal they may otherwise seem. Torture doesn’t get ‘the truth’, and it doesn’t redress any wrongs.  I’m sick with shame that even one human being in this nation would stoop so low as to torture another human being, but I guess I’m not surprised; I’m a survivor of violence, and of rape, and I know too well how poorly we treat our fellow human beings, here. Enough about that. Please enjoy your day without killing or maiming anyone? I will do the same – together, if we all pitch in, we can stop the violence.

Flowers! (Why not?)

Flowers! (Why not?)

It’s later than usual, and I notice with enough time to avoid panic, but it’s time to move on with the day. Today is a good day to avoid panic. Today is a good day to be kind to myself, and to others. Today is a good day to take my time and enjoy the moment. Today is a good day to change the world.

I slept last night. It’s worth it to take a moment to really appreciate that, and let the experience seep into my consciousness fully as I wake. I needed a good night of unbroken restful sleep. Although it doesn’t actually ‘matter’, I’m even pleased that my hair didn’t do some weird thing in the night that must be addressed, resolved, or improved upon this morning; it’s just hair, a lovely brunette shade sprinkled with some grey. I’m drinking my espresso neat this morning, but whether that was a momentary time-saver or a whim at that earlier moment, I no longer recall. It’s a detail that also doesn’t ‘matter’.

All the news seems bad…people killing, being killed…governments that once stood proudly on values admitting to war crimes and violations against humanity without any particular contrition or attempt to make it right… people going hungry…people without a safe place to rest through the night…violence and privation, and a handful of very privileged people making time to attempt to justify or excuse it all. I avoid reading the news even now, skimming the headlines and making a point of knowing the basics of important global events, but refusing to become mired in the pain and sorrow and cruelty. I make a point of showing people compassion, consideration, and respect, and hope that my modest effort makes some small difference for someone, somewhere.

Love is my lighthouse.

Love is my lighthouse.

Last night was a lovely quiet one, spent watching anime with my traveling partner, and calling it a night early enough to get adequate rest. This morning leads into a moderately busy day, and I’ve made a point of organizing my thoughts, and my time, to make it all work out – and then I’ve also granted myself the further courtesy of being prepared to roll with the changes life sometimes throws my way. It’s a Wednesday, and one that seems to begin well. I am content with that.

As scary as The World can be, and as frightening and unsettling as the events both near and far can seem, this moment right here, right now, is quite serene and quiet. I find satisfaction in enjoying this small moment, and its quiet beauty and stillness. I savor it, breathing deeply, feeling calm, and knowing that this ‘now’ moment is mine to keep for as long as moments last, and on into the future of memory, if I take the time to affix it there. “Taking in the good” is among the simplest practices I’ve taken on, and it is powerful. Once I understood how much time I spent lingering on negative experiences cognitively, it made so much sense that doing the same with good experiences would improve the emotional characteristics of my implicit memory; in practice, it works just that way. The more time I spend on negative experiences, and immersed in negative emotions, the more the implicit qualities of my human experience overall take on negative characteristics, and quite logically the same is true if I spend more time on positive emotions and experiences. I do like enjoying a more positive experience, more pleasant interactions, and a tendency to make positive assumptions, more than negative ones.

My traveling partner puts my writing on pause with a lovely greeting. Connection… isn’t that what matters most? I think I’ll go find out.

Today is a good day for love. Today is a good day to be the best of who I am, and to share that with the world. Today is a good day to be kind, and to be considerate. Today is a good day to change the world.