Archives for category: women

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.

I woke earlier than I wanted to this morning. I fell asleep later than I wanted to last night. The sleep in between those points was filled with distressing dreams that were neither pleasant, nor were they nightmares; they were instead rich in content, symbolism, and implication without being over-obvious, as if daring me to overlook what matters most in the storm of surrealism. I woke feeling stiff and twisted, with a headache that sources down low in my spine, and makes it way to my skull, a dull unrelenting ache that pulsates when I walk. It’s about as dreadful as it sounds…only…I also woke warm and dry, safe from physical harm, indoor plumbing near at hand, and clean drinking water besides. I woke to birdsong outside my window and a not-too-very-rainy morning, and the sound of Dave Matthews Band on the stereo; my traveling partner already awake, playing chess quietly. I woke to an offer of a hot latte made just the way I like it. I woke to a warm hug, and a loving smile. This is my very human experience; it’s not good sometimes and bad other times as much as it is generally a mix of details of a variety of sorts.

Over the past two years I’ve read a lot of words written by several people whose working lives are spent studying the neuroscience of emotion and consciousness. I’ve read about negativity bias, and have a very elementary understanding that the most intense experiences tend to be most memorable, and that we tend to prioritize negative experiences more highly on an implicit level as a survival trait. Sounds damning, sometimes. I’ve also read more than a little bit about a number of practices that can be put to use to minimize or mitigate our negativity bias – resulting in a more implicitly pleasant experience overall; they do work, I’ve tried them. I’ve read about (and tried) practices for calming my storming heart when my PTSD catches me unawares, or I find myself so fatigued that I am unexpectedly volatile. I have explored practices that have tended to take me from a very negative, bitter, chronically irritated and dissatisfied state of being, to a day-to-day state sense of self that tends to be rather calm, generally content, and mostly pretty joyful.

I hope I’ve never led you to believe it’s “easy” every day. I work at ‘happy’ and ‘content’ by practicing an assortment of practices that tend to take me that direction over time. There are verbs involved. A commitment to wake up every day and actually practice them – because they are only effective when I do them. Thinking about them doesn’t quite change anything. When I consider moments over the past two years when things just didn’t seem quite as good as they could be – speaking just of my own experience, subjectively – it seems significant that there’s often some days preceding during which I was less committed than usual to some key practice or another. (That’s often how I figure out which ones are ‘key’ for me personally! lol) I don’t feel any shame over that, and I don’t feel like a failure. (I hear my traveling partner’s voice in my thoughts asking in a humorous tone “Well, how do you feel?”) I do feel very human; encouraged by the bits that go well, and a little beat down by the things that don’t.

Like it or not, there are verbs involved. Real actions to take, that require some small effort of will – a decision, a choice, an intention followed through on with a behavior of some appropriate sort. There’s just no getting out from under the action-reaction thing. The actions I choose aren’t always ideal; that’s the next challenge, isn’t it? Once my will is firmly in place, and I’ve made a choice, and taken an action, then experience unfolds the next lesson like a map, and I see where my choices take me. Then the whole thing again, for some other circumstance. Life. I am learning to be more aware of the puzzle pieces themselves in this jigsaw puzzle, rather than straining to see the finished picture while I piece it together.

It’s hard to overstate the value I’ve been finding in the ‘taking in the good’ exercises in Hardwiring Happiness. I haven’t ‘finished’ the book yet, because I keep re-reading it, and meditating on pieces of the content that are most relevant to my own experience. The practice, particularly, of lingering over pleasant moments for a considerable time rather than allowing them to be so fleeting, and also of refraining from lingering over unpleasant moments and treating them fairly casually after-the-fact, is a current favorite; it really does seem to be altering my implicit emotional bias for the better. I recently started a simple practice for improving my perspective with regard to positive and negative interactions, intended to prevent me from taking such things personally, particularly when they are not (and they mostly aren’t). It’s a simple reality-check; if I am feeling very picked on and emotionally beat down, I make a list of the specific complaints, or negative feedback, directed specifically to me, about my actions – no other negative content is listed, because it ‘isn’t about me’. The first time I did it, I quickly recognized that I’d only actually been offered a single point of negative feedback – and the rest of the discussion wasn’t about me at all, however negative it sounded in my thoughts. A negative bias functions on a lot of levels, it seems. This simple practice has seriously improved my relationships with other people; in one case I was able to recognize that new boundaries needed to be explicitly set in a work relationship, without things blowing up, when my list made it clear that 1. the relationship was profoundly negative and critical, and 2. there was a legitimate issue surfacing as a theme that could be easily addressed.

Illumination, or artificial lighting?

Illumination, or artificial lighting?

Meditation does take a commitment. Practicing is action. Choices are necessary. Verbs are involved. The results, for me, so far, are entirely worth it. I sure don’t have ‘the answers’. I am finding it worthwhile to consider some of the questions carefully. Will… that’s the thing, isn’t it? The Will to Practice. How do I build Will? Practicing.

Today is a good day to experience the birdsong, the music, the laughter, and the love. Today is a good day to change the world.

Yesterday I didn’t write. I woke seconds ahead of the alarm, and a bit disappointed it was morning. I enjoyed quiet, unmeasured stillness, meditating in the holiday glow of the decorated loft and found myself feeling incredible balanced and content as the day began…

Ornaments as metaphors; love is a lighthouse.

Ornaments as metaphors; love is a lighthouse.

…It all went wrong very quickly, in that way that mornings so easily can.  I spent the remainder of the day feeling stuck – and angry. I have challenges with anger, and I carry around a lot of baggage that is related to anger, and the strange double standard I perceive between what is permitted of the anger of men versus the anger of women. Gender bias issues of that sort generally function implicitly, and it has always been an area of my experience in which I have struggled to be heard, to be accepted, or to make progress with my challenges. I run from anger – mine, too – until I explode unable to contain it any longer. It’s unhealthy. Yesterday sucked quite a lot, and probably didn’t have to. I have work to do in the area of anger. I’m sure life will continue to provide curriculum for the needed learning experience. 🙂

I did not expect that when I woke this morning, I would feel insecure and reluctant to experience morning at all. Yesterday apparently managed to be a pretty big deal on that level, and I find myself feeling fretful about it, and I am unsurprised that tears fall, and then stop, only to start up again for no apparent reason. Tinkering with implicit memory has, over time, resulted in me being somewhat more sensitive to, and aware of, how intense experiences create change in ‘the way things feel’. This morning my anxiety is needless, and associated with the hurt-sad-angry moments of mornings that are not this one. How unreasonable!

I don’t generally write when I am angry. I struggle to communicate comfortably at all, and I’m often unsure quite what to say; I want to get words out that have meaning, are reasonable, and communicate well, and gently, what’s on my mind…only…anger. I didn’t write yesterday. I did go to my therapy appointment, and it ended up being by far the most important conversation of this lifetime about anger. I’m hopeful about the content and significance. I’m anxious about it; change can mean turmoil, and anything to do with anger is actually pretty terrifying for me.

This morning I went straight to writing after meditating, as if the deviation in my routine yesterday was the thing that was problematic. It isn’t likely that meditating in the loft yesterday, and not writing at all, was in any way associated with the blow up later…but “it felt wonderful and calm and delightful, and then things went wrong, therefore I can’t have that” is sort of how my brain broke it down to me this morning. I feel my anxiety increase just contemplating enjoying quiet chill time in that colorful holiday space that I love. What a mess. I am so very human, and sometimes the chaos and damage are more obvious than others.

Would I be easier to love if I never spoke?

Would I be easier to love if I never spoke?

This morning is a whole new day. I’ve got a great shot of espresso. It’s a birthday (Happy Birthday, Love!!). The work day ahead looks to be a good one, and I anticipate spending those hours engaged in tasks that excite me intellectually, in an area of work in which I feel very sure of myself and valued. My pain, today, is quite manageable. I woke without a headache. I find myself feeling hopeful and enthusiastic between stray moments of anxiety. I avoid setting expectations of the day as much as possible to limit my stress, and prevent setting myself or my love up for failure, this morning or later.

Today is a good day to take care of me. Today is a good day to love. Today is a good day to understand that anger isn’t an enemy, and that I have an opportunity to learn and grow from it, and make use of it as a tool, and an alert system. Today is a good day to step right over my fears and doubts and love without reservations. Today is a good day to see the best in each person I interact with, and reflect that back to them by being the best person I can be, myself. Today is a good day for consideration and kindness. Today is a good day to change the world.

It’s late, and the house is quiet. The weekend is over, Thanksgiving is past, and this moment right now is the space between waking and sleeping. I’m not quite ready to let the weekend go. I’m also not particularly in need of an audience, or someone with whom to share this quiet moment. My sharing, for now, is handled and this moment, now, is my own. It’s a very nice quiet one.

An annual celebration of light.

An annual celebration of light.

The loft has been transformed into a holiday paradise. There are very personal, particular, even… ‘magical’ qualities to the holiday season for me, that go far beyond jingles, sales, advertisements, tradition, marketing, habit, or expectations. I made the winter holidays my own, a very long time ago. Today, I sipped my last coffee of the day surrounded by colored lights, and fantastical glass ornaments of all imaginable sorts, quite content to enjoy the things about this holiday season that move me so much. I’ve tried hard for so many years, and in so many relationships, to share this particular experience, this magic, this wondrous transformative understanding of the winter holidays that is my own experience of it… I’m not sure that I’ve ever really succeeded beyond communicating with some modest success that these are holidays that matter to me. That’s enough. It has to be. We are each having our own experience.

Ornaments as metaphors; love is a lighthouse.

Ornaments as metaphors; love is a lighthouse.

For me, preparing the house for the holidays, decorating, setting up the holiday tree are more than tradition, or habit, or expectation; they are in important ritual in the cycle of my life, letting every year end on a note of warmth, love, generosity, appreciation, gratitude, and value – no matter how bad the nightmares, or how traumatic the reality. Each year I unpack the ornaments and treasure the moments I recall as I handle them, and look them over in the light. I place each one so carefully, considering even ‘now details’ and how the precious memories it holds fit the context of my life; I place some prominently, and tuck others around in the back where they are less likely to be seen, or asked about. Each year the tree is a monument to life, to emotion, to memory – to the content and meaning of life and love, experienced over time. Bits of sentiment, souvenirs, and trophies, too, perhaps; my life in glass and glitter cherished through the season, and packed away ever so carefully once the new year arrives.

Some ornaments are purchased, others are handmade.

Some ornaments are purchased, others are handmade.

I sat, hands warm and wrapped around my coffee cup, enjoying a moment of stillness and waiting on our evening meal, it finally became more real…how little need there is for any one else to ‘really get it’, so long as I am true to myself, my values, and I am accepted and valued within my relationships such that I can enjoy the experience that is my own without any particular hindrance.  A lovely moment, a gentle lesson in life’s curriculum; I almost managed not to wonder if I feel exactly precisely all of this every year, without being able to understand that I have, that I do, that I will… I did manage not to be frustrated with that thought, it too passed, and I enjoyed the stillness.

Holiday magic - everyone makes their own.

Holiday magic – everyone makes their own.

These simple harmless pleasures contribute to this amazing journey, enjoying them is part of who I am – and it’s one of the very best parts, too – I woke up to a better understanding about ‘experiencing’ and ‘sharing’ and how distinct from each other those ideas can be, and how utterly okay that actually is. It’s a nice idea on which to end such a nice day, such a good weekend.