Archives for category: women
« Older Entries
Newer Entries »

Timing and Context

October 26, 2014 //
0

I woke too early for a Sunday morning, and by that I mean, I’d have liked to sleep a bit longer, but I am awake. I woke with a sense of urgency, and a heart full of troubling emotions. The urgency turned out to be easily addressed by indoor plumbing; being human remains a very biological experience.

Have a flower

Living things, living.

The remaining emotions seem, even now, a hodge-podge of weirdness on the blue end of the emotional spectrum, and some anxiety thrown in there for added ‘fun’. When I faced the emotions head-on, with compassion for my experience, they mostly receded into the background. This is consistent with my experience of emotions that are not specifically tied to actual here-and-now events or experiences. So, I woke with linger emotions from dreams, perhaps, or simply with some built-in chemical cocktail coursing through my blood stream that my brain interprets as ’emotions’, but may not be. Last but certainly not most rare, I could be misinterpreting what I am feeling; anxiety and excitement have a lot of chemistry in common, and I am going on a date with my traveling partner today – very exciting, indeed. 🙂

Taking inventory of the experience I’m having right now, I feel rather breathless, as though it is actually difficult to take a deep breath; my diaphragm feels very tight and deep cleansing breaths require both focus and effort. I’m in pain, but less than has been so common recently, still, my back feels still and my muscles send me clear indications that the positions I took during the night may not have been ideal for later comfort; shoulder and neck pain in my muscles give that away. The snap and pop of joints that don’t hurt reminds me to be gentle with myself, to slow down, and to move with purpose; I’m still losing weight, and there’s some slack in joints, tendons, and connective tissue that puts me at risk of easy injury.

I’m still finding this breathless, rather anxious-feeling core, unmitigated by yoga or meditation. I take another deep breath and relax, feeling the ebb and flow of it. Although I did read “The Giver” before bed last night (perhaps not ideal nighttime reading for someone with sleep and nightmare challenges, honestly), my own dreams were not filled with it, they were filled with love and lust and sex and life…considering it in this now moment, the feeling of ‘anxiety’ and breathlessness suddenly spikes. Oh. I get it now. It’s the sex thing. lol. Damn it. Being 51, and post-menopause, has done not one thing to reduce my sex drive, or my interest in sex, or curb the maddening libido that is one of life’s gifts to me, if anything it seems more pronounced than ever – and now I needn’t worry about pregnancy. Younger me, back in the distance time of my 20s, would be so thrilled! lol. I mostly find the din of urgent sexual desire to be an impediment to contentment, because there really isn’t much chance at fulfilling the seething need; it’s too much to ask of another person, there are a lot of other things going on, and we all have so much to do… I love the feeling of being aroused, eager, excited, even yearning for sexual contact and satisfaction is largely a very positive and life-affirming experience…but I also have to take time out to work for living, get some things done around the house, take care of me… and my partner is  human, too, with his own needs, desires, limits, workload, time and lack of time, energy and lack of energy… in short; everyone at this party is human.  I have spent most of my adulthood feeling like my sexual needs are not needs that can actually be met in any sustained way, you’d think by now I’d be used to it. lol

A much younger me, a bubblebath, and possibly contemplating similar challenges at a different time in life.

A much younger me, a bubblebath, and possibly contemplating similar challenges at a different time in life.

51 is a funny time of life to be this horny, too. It seems unexpected to some people, as though there is some magic shut-off switch at 49, and sex tends to be a less comfortable subject once the conversation isn’t also about people 18-40-something. lol. That, however, is not my baggage. 😉  What is my baggage is learning to comfortably manage unmet needs; unaddressed these emotions potentially lurk in the background waiting to hijack my experience with some unexpected tantrum or moment of generalized pissed-off-ed-ness that can really mess up a lovely day. As ideal as it would be, sex itself is not always the solution available. This particular conundrum is still in the ‘more about questions than answers’ stage, too. So.

Autumn leaves, rainfall, green grass... there's got to be a metaphor here, somewhere.

Autumn leaves, rainfall, green grass… there’s got to be a metaphor here, somewhere.

Today is a beautiful day to be so fortunate as to feel excited to be alive. Today is a good day to be able to feel profoundly excited by my partner, such that just living alongside him day after day is this exciting. Today is a good day to be human, to be a being of emotion and sensation. Today is a good day to feel and to love. Today is a good day to practice willfully treating others well, regardless of my emotional state. Today is a good day to respect my own experience, with love and kindness, and recognize I am not alone. Today is a good day to be human; every piece of the puzzle rich with meaning, and potential for growth. Today is a good to enjoy the moment, and appreciate my great capacity to love. Today is a good day to change the world.

 

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Hormone Hell, Love, Menopause, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Turning 50, women

Enough

October 24, 2014 //
0

This morning, my coffee is tasty and hot, and I’m pleased with how lovely the espresso shots I pulled just happened to be; I am not a professional barista. I do my best, and even first thing in the morning I try to pull each shot mindfully, with great care, exactly as I have learned to do it. I enjoy the result.

This morning, the trickle of the aquarium in the background is soothing, and calls to mind little brooks and creeks. I enjoy some moments watching fish swim, and observing their awareness of their environment and each other. I contemplate free will, intention, consciousness, and wonder again what fish might ‘think about’.

Stormy weather.

Stormy weather.

I consider the day ahead, in the context of the day behind me. Yesterday went sideways in a most peculiar way, but very telling. It would be difficult to share much more about it without sharing too much, which quickly becomes both tedious, and riddled with rampant emotion of limited perspective. Let’s not do that. Let’s talk, instead, perhaps, about how much our values actually matter – to ourselves, to each other, to our relationships. Having a clear understanding of what we value, ourselves, is challenge enough; having an understanding of the values of others, enough to really ‘get them’, has so much to offer… and sometimes seems very hard to come by.

Can you answer this question: “What are your basic relationship values?” I answer it with my Big 5 (Respect, Reciprocity, Consideration, Compassion, and Openness). I have some important personal values, too, upon which I am attempting to build the life I want to live: Mindfulness, Perspective, and Sufficiency. That I know my values doesn’t ensure my choices are always based on such, and this is the nature of adult value decisions; we choose our values. The values of our childhood are instilled in us through education, example setting, and experience. Adulthood allows (requires?) us to re-examine them, and choose wisely based on what we have learned, values that represent the best of who we are. We have the opportunity to make those choices, make changes, and live well. We have other choices, too. The values we demonstrate, whatever values we say we hold, are the values we communicate to others through the power of our actions, as well as the clarity of our words.

I guess the test of success is ‘do your chosen values support the life you really want?’ As we are each having our own experience, the choices, and the evaluation, belong to us individually. In that legendary ‘perfect world’ so many laud and yearn for, our relationships are with others who share our values. We’re human beings. Each having our own experience, and making our own choices, and it is most assuredly not a perfect world. Still, we could do worse than choosing our relationships based on the values we truly hold.

Beyond the storm.

Beyond the storm.

Today is a good day for love, and for living my values. Today is a good day to make my best choices to meet my needs over time. Today is a good day to recognize that everyone makes their own choices, chooses their own path, and that the map and the journey are customized; we rarely see the world or our circumstances quite the way someone else does, however dear they may be. Today is a good day to respect the path someone else chooses to walk. Today is a good day to change the world.

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories autumn, Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, The Big 5, women, Words

There Was This Other Time…

October 23, 2014 //
0

This morning I woke to the alarm, and not that happy about it. I slept decently, and woke in a more or less ‘normal’ amount of pain, certainly nothing extraordinary. My coffee is hot, and tasty, though I don’t feel especially eager to drink it. I feel pre-occupied and vaguely distracted, by nothing I can put my finger on. My morning yoga sequence eased my stiff joints, and improved my range of motion. It seems, in general, a pleasant autumn morning…why is there this sense of something unsettling lurking in the background? I’m learning to let those things go, rather than continue to troubleshoot a vague fleeting emotion until it becomes something problematic and real; the change is an improvement, generally speaking.

Hot flashes and night sweats? Yeah, still. It’s hard to call it ‘hormone hell’, though, it’s just not that big a deal anymore. Menopause, so far, has been worth reaching. There’s a lot less turmoil and volatility.

This morning lacks the chill serene harmony of a typical quiet morning; I feel restless and unfulfilled. I wonder briefly what that’s about, and recommit to ‘now’ and let it go. Autumn is a season of change, and I can accept that a certain amount of restless unease may be part of that experience. My heart is filled with maybe’s and ‘I wonders’, and I yearn for something new, or more, or different, or… something. Maybe I’m just yearning for sexual contact, or romantic intimacy; pain is an impediment to every day adult fun, and the physical side of love that is part of my everyday struggle for balance, contentment, and sufficiency. (Certainly, menopause has done nothing to quash my ludicrous natural drive.)

My appointment time was interesting yesterday, insightful, worthwhile, cooperative, collaborative, and useful. I didn’t cry all the way home – or feel like I wanted to (I often do after particularly difficult discussions with my therapist). The evening was lovely, chill, and quiet.

We interrupt this program...

We interrupt this program…

My traveling partner interrupts to inquire if I am “going to be writing all morning, then doing a couple of chores and just taking off?” this morning. I feel irritated by the back-handed approach, and struggle not to react in the moment to what is essentially a request to hang out and enjoy my company. I’d find that desire so beautiful and loving if he’d actually just said “I’d love to hang out this morning, will you make time for that?” or something sweeter and more direct. It is what it is. These words here? I value them, and I value this morning time with me. I also value love.

Today is a good day to set other things aside for the sake of love.

Tags , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories autumn, Brain Injury, Free Will, Hormone Hell, Love, Menopause, Metaphors, Mindfulness, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, The Big 5, women, Words

One Small Part of a Greater Whole

September 29, 2014 //
0

There’s very little we human primates do that is truly isolated from the rest, so unique and strange as to be impossible to relate to or identify with, so much so that when we behave in a fashion that is ‘out of the ordinary’ within the context of our experience not only do our friends, loved ones, and every day associates notice, so do strangers. We are interdependent, inter-associated, and interacting with each other – even when we are alone, generally, unless we sit utterly silent, motionless, and disconnected from all technology as well…which doesn’t happen for many of us, or doesn’t happen often, certainly not by choice. (I suggest it might be healthier for our own being if we did step away more than once in a while to be truly alone, and free of distraction…)  What my point is, though, is that we see each other, even when we are not really watching, and when an individual in the herd, pack, band, tribe, or community deviates from recognized norms it is noticed.

Just sayin’. You are not invisible. People notice. They probably care – what they don’t have is a window into your experience. Opening up and being who you are, because it is who you are, can be a scary process – particularly if you’ve made your way in life by wearing a mask, telling a story, or hiding your truth.

Life and love, linked and entwined, they are what we make of them.

Life and love, linked and entwined, they are what we make of them. [TBA ‘untitled’ M.R.H. 2014]

I spent the weekend painting. In that respect my weekend was entirely and completely about me. It was quite lovely, filled with wonder, and I’m pleased with the new work. I’d leave it there, but I am a human primate, loving other human primates, and living in a family, a small band of friends, a community of people; there’s more to it than me. There’s always more to it than ‘me’. Saturday was lovely, easy, and felt natural and right pretty nearly end to end, and seemed so for all of us. Sunday less so. Other people, other choices, and there’s always room for more than one experience. I had a remarkable day painting, nonetheless, and enjoyed sharing time with my traveling partner, reading, hanging out, talking… it was lovely. My other partner was doing her own thing.

Yesterday had been planned differently; I planned to go hiking in the morning. The lovely Saturday evening, though, resulted in a request for a morning at home together, shared as a family. I happily changed my plans. Things went sideways early, and I’m pleased at how easy it has become for me to roll with changes; I like planning things, and function most comfortably when I have some loose idea of what’s to be expected. It is a powerful piece of growth, and marvelously powerful, to be so able to smile in the face of unwanted drama, change, and the randomness of life itself. There is so much less turmoil within, now.  I’m still not skilled at getting at the root of OPD and making the changes I need to, to ensure I can easily and with great contentment avoid being sucked into someone else’s drama. I can’t – and don’t want to – control someone else’s experience, choices, values or behavior; I have all the control in the world over my own. Choices.

For me The Big 5 really matter. Respect, and Consideration are huge. Openness is non-negotiable. Compassion and Reciprocity are essential to treating others, and myself, truly well. Nothing short of treating myself well, making choices that meet my needs over time, and treating others in accordance with my own Big 5 – as a minimum standard of decency for me – is acceptable at all these days. I am building my own experience on principles of mindfulness, perspective, and sufficiency, sure – but it’s my Big 5 on which I build my relationships with others, and what I require from others to build one with me.

What we build, what we destroy, are made of our own choices in life and in love.

What we build, what we destroy, are made of our own choices in life and in love.  [TBA ‘untitled’ M.R.H. 2014]

It’s a quiet chill Monday morning. My coffee is hot, and the tone of the morning is gentle. My traveling partner is up early, and I’ll enjoy the time I share with him, before heading to the office for a very different experience – one that I still base on my Big 5, because it’s a good way to treat others, and to be treated myself.

Today is a good day for choices that meet my needs over time. Today is a good day to stand on my strengths as a being, and as a woman. Today is a good day to smile and enjoy the small delights that are always there in the moment. Today is a good day to appreciate any connection I enjoy with another; our connections are what it is all about. Today is a good day to change the world.

"Namaste" 8" x 10" acrylic on canvas. 2014 It's about the intention as much as the words.

“Namaste” 8″ x 10″ acrylic on canvas. 2014 It’s about the intention as much as the words.

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories autumn, Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Love, Mindfulness, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, The Big 5, women, Words

Highs and Lows

September 17, 2014 //
0

Today I’m feeling pretty low, waking with a vicious headache, and memories of last night. I don’t care for drama so exploring the details isn’t on the agenda today. Is it enough to say I’m human? That I have moments of self-doubt, moments when things that made so much sense some other day don’t make sense right now? Times of struggle and heartache? I am, after all, grieving… that colors life somewhat, doesn’t it? I’m asking because, at 51, sometimes I don’t feel like I know the answers to some of these questions.

...There's still sky overhead...and possibilities.

…There’s still sky overhead…and possibilities.

Lonely in a crowd? Yeah, this has some of that feel to it. Uncertain about the future? Yep, I’ve got that, too. I feel sad. I feel challenged by life’s curriculum in a similar way to what I imagine it might be like to wander into a college physics class at some tender age, without any academic preparation, and being told my grade depends on the day’s pop quiz. My partners are good people. This morning the tears on my face and the splitting headache I woke with go hand in hand with my doubt that I qualify to make that team.

Death sometimes has an unexpectedly insistent way of making us look closely at our own life. What do I want out of mine, truly? Where am I headed? What is the trajectory of my choices, and where are they taking me? Is this what I what? Is it what will best meet my needs over time? I don’t have good answers to these questions either, and I feel adrift. Oddly, this does not make me eager to see my therapist, instead, a profound urge to ‘leave it all behind’ builds, but I don’t know what I really mean by that. I’m too old to ‘run away from home’ and the sorts of baggage I have are neatly chained to me, going along for the journey everywhere I go.

Each day dawns, entirely new, filled with potential and choices.

Each day dawns, entirely new, filled with potential and choices.

This one’s difficult. My skilled brain tries to tell me I will be okay, that “this too shall pass”. Mindfulness… well… yeah. It’s getting to be easier and more habitual. Mindfulness in moments like these doesn’t often do much to ‘make it stop hurting’. Opening my own heart to this experience of hurting and making room for it, and being compassionate with myself are not the simplest of tasks – particularly after an evening of being castigated for imperfect execution of practices that serve me so well other times, other days. So, I sit here allowing the tears with a certain irritated resignation, and doing what I can to be kind to myself, and understand that it’s all a lot to take, and that being human is the nature of my experience. I focus on me, my experience, what I need from me to feel nurtured and supported. There’s that emotional self-sufficiency piece rearing its head again, too. Would I cry less if I met more of my own needs? Maybe tears are what I have to count on? Where is the line between working through grief and trauma appropriately to heal, and ‘being a victim’ – is that a matter of perspective? I feel like I was headed for summer vacation and the teacher just handed me Moby Dick, War and Peace, and Atlas Shrugged and said “see you in two weeks”. Being a student of life and love doesn’t really end with ‘graduation’ – there’s always more to learn. I kind of wish I weren’t a ‘C student’, though, this shit is hard.

So. Today I am alone. In a sense, I always am; we are each having our own experience. That can be a very lonely thing, sometimes. It is, right now.

I’ll spend the weekend out in the trees, in the stillness, breathing, safe, content; I may not ‘figure it all out’, but I’ll get a break from everything that hurts except the stuff I carry with me. That I just have to deal with. It’ll be a few days, maybe, before I write here again. I won’t have access to the internet – the trees don’t use Facebook, they simply stand in stillness, content. Or something poetic like that. Anyway. I guess I’ve ‘run out of words’ for now.

What is there to say about a sunrise? It is, in a sense, the only 'do over' we get; a new day.

What is there to say about a sunrise? It is, in a sense, the only ‘do over’ we get; a new day.

No affirmations, today, they would feel hollow to me this morning – and if nothing else, I am genuine. Today I hurt.

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, grief, Hormone Hell, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, The Big 5, Uncategorized, women
« Older Entries
Newer Entries »