Archives for category: Words

I woke with a headache, and although I am in a decently pleasant mood, the headache definitely colors my experience.  I’m also stiff.  No big surprise there; the hike yesterday was at the limits of what my current fitness and skill level permit. So worth it. I mean…seriously?

A lovely way to 'take care of me'.

A lovely way to ‘take care of me’.

This morning, my coffee tastes strong and no-nonsense; this is a Monday morning that isn’t fucking about or dragging its feet. There’s work to be done, and an entire new week in which to do it.  The headache just reminds me to take care of me, and to treat myself well, and gently, and with compassion.

I woke from an odd moment in The Nightmare City, well before my alarm went off.  What woke me was the sudden realization that an interestingly fundamental slogan in our culture is also exceedingly negative, defensive, and carries an implicitly confrontational subtext – and I’d never noticed before that as ‘cultural platforms’ go, it’s not a pretty picture of who we are. Ready for it? “Let the buyer beware.” (You knew that was coming, right? From the title of the post?)

Let the buyer beware.  Think that over for a moment. Maybe I’m completely off the mark; the teachings of The Nightmare City are not always obvious, and not always what they seem initially to be.

Let the buyer beware. Sure, okay. As a cautionary statement, it does make sense to ‘take care of me’ and give due consideration to something I may purchase – or ‘buy into’. I entirely agree, too, that an informed and savvy consumer doesn’t eschew the opportunity to examine their decision and make every attempt to ensure that an item, event, or ideology is as represented before making a purchase; it matters to be informed, and to make careful choices that meet needs over time. Still… think about that sentence. Let the buyer beware.

Is it just me, or does the sentence ‘Let the buyer beware’ tend to imply that it is expected, understood, and accepted that the sellers of goods, services, or ideologies will indeed use any and all means necessary to make the sale – without regard to value, fit, or desirability – resulting in the necessity of every potential consumer to defend him/herself from fraud or wasteful spending (of money, of time, of interest), and to be alert to being cheated? Wow. So… instead of reinforcing great ethics, and values, we earnestly remind each other, and ourselves, to prepare to be cheated, because we know how likely it is.  Practical, sure, but… wow.

Is this who we are? Defensive, negative, prone to treating each other badly, exploiting others to get ahead, willing to defraud, to cheat, to deceive… Honest is easier, open is far less complicated to sustain, fair and compassionate is a much prettier picture of who we are – or who we can be.  What subtle ripples does ‘let the buyer beware’ cause in our entire culture, in our shared experience, and our shared understanding of who we are as individuals, as a society?  More questions. More steps along a journey.

Today is a good day to reconsider assumptions. Today is a good day to change the world.

It’s a quiet morning, following gently on the heels of a pleasant and lovely yesterday. My mood isn’t as steady or reliable as I anticipate the day to come being; I am considering things.  When I find myself stuck on some detail, forcing it into context, molding it into part of the narrative of the day, of the week, of my life, I remind myself of the recent readings on ‘narrative bias’ and cognitive errors, in general.  I give myself a moment of understanding and compassion; it’s damned hard to let go of explaining everything, and to pursue questions instead.  It’s so easy to be pulled  into drama and bullshit – mine, someone else’s, the world’s.

The loveliness of the day is only a distraction from suffering if we choose to be aware of it.

The loveliness of the day is only a distraction from suffering if we choose to be aware of it.

I saw a meme in my Facebook feed recently, and it was the sort of catchy slogan, delivered at just the right moment for the words to easily slide into the context of my experience, that it has stuck with me.  Of course, after the fact it turns out to be neither new nor recent. “Not my circus. Not my monkeys.”  Still… I find myself delighted by the simple way it conveys meaning.  I like it. I’ll keep it. lol  I’ve found it pretty easily delivers a powerful reminder of the suffering of attachment, of judgement, and of taking ownership of what isn’t my own. Handy.

I am feeling uneasy, this morning. Struggling to find real balance again after rocking my emotional boat in therapy this week, and after a powerful conversation – honest, real, open, and utterly frank – with a lover that changes…something.  For the better? I don’t know. Is it a big deal? I don’t know. Does it really change any possible outcomes? I don’t know. What does it mean? I don’t know. Hell, I don’t even have great questions to consider, yet.  The step forward in therapy is by far the bigger deal, I suspect, but the heart speaks its own language and sets its own priorities, and even there… my step forward in therapy still matters, and remains suggestive of change to come.

What was the big deal with therapy? Well, simply that I am finally able to express my experience as a trauma survivor fairly simply, in a sentence, using words, without collapsing in tears, or being reduced to an animal state of panic, or wordless terror. I used my words. It isn’t more than that, and it is every bit of that, and I’m proud of myself for taking another step forward.  It isn’t time yet to share such a thing with the world.  It’s not ‘for you’, not yet. Maybe we’ll get there, together, one day? Having never just said it, out loud, so simply, to another real human being, I didn’t know what that experience would be like. Hearing the words said, hearing them hang in the silence and safety of a pleasantly calm office, isn’t really describable, either. I cried – healthy tears, honest sadness, regret, hurt, suffering…and more confused and astonished than angry or terrified. Confused that human beings can be so cruel. Astonished that I said words aloud that I had once been assured would result in my immediate subjection to a long, painful, lingering consequence – and nothing happened to me, aside from feeling all those hot tears slide quietly down my cheeks.  Well. Not ‘nothing’. Something did ‘happen to me’. I know – because I made the choice to make it happen. I don’t have words for the happening, and it is a very subjective thing. Worthy of my attention and consideration, and so, this morning, I consider it.

I’m not too interested in feeling sad this morning, which is a bit irksome since I clearly do, now and again. I find myself rather idly wondering how long this feeling of unease will last, and what it will take to drive it away…then notice with amusement that the idle wondering is much more low-key than the one-time state of panic and dread that would have saturated such a morning, as little as a year ago. Progress. Small steps. Good choices. Good practices.  Focused on what nourishes me, and keeps me headed down my own path, toward my own goals, and meets my own needs over time… Today is a good day to be.

I remember a handful of childhood things, memories I feel fairly confident are actual memories, rather than recollections of anecdotes shared by a family member. One of the things I remember is my Granny’s ‘button drawer’ in her sewing room. It was nothing more (or less) than the bottom drawer of her sewing machine table. It was nothing more (or less) than entirely filled with all manner of buttons. When clothing wore out and was cut up for rags, baby or doll clothes, quilting squares or strips for braided rugs, all the buttons were removed and put in the button drawer. There was no order or organization to it. It was a deep, vast, plentiful and chaotic assortment of all manner of buttons, some very old (having come from her grandmothers clothes), and some buttons were so new they were still stitched to cards in groups of 4, 6, or 8, waiting for just the right project.

Playtime

Playtime at Granny’s house.

On visits, particularly rainy days, when Granny was at her sewing machine, I had the entire button drawer for my play set, my toys, my treasure. I strung buttons into long garlands of sparkly buttons, and bracelets of colorful bead buttons. I sorted and organized the buttons again and again, endlessly fascinated by their variety and materials. I could bury my hands deep in the drawer of buttons and feel the larger, heavy buttons that had slowly settled toward the bottom of the drawer. Pulling some strange, previously unseen button from those mysterious depths was exciting.

Building blocks were available for play, too, and I enjoyed them.  I have in mind a morning at play, old-fashioned square blocks, Linkin Logs, and some odds and ends – and a lot of frustration that the pieces, seemingly very ‘regular’ and organized, didn’t work together the way I wanted them to. Unlike the buttons, the clear purpose of each block was both obvious, and limiting, at least for me. I have a recollection of frustrated little girl tears, and a male figure exclaiming with similar frustration “How can  you not like this? They’re building blocks!!”   It wasn’t at all that I ‘didn’t like them’ – but they sure weren’t buttons of endless variety, with sparkles, carved shapes, colorful forms and limitless purpose in my imagination; they were just blocks. Motionless. Massive. Firmly and clearly geometric. Built with a specific purpose. Designed for a singular sort of play. Not buttons.

Although I was already a ‘chatterbox’, I couldn’t express my emotional needs, or articulate my emotions with clarity. I’m still easily frustrated by difficulty communicating emotions clearly.  Metaphorically, I’m still turning building blocks over in my head, and trying to figure out how to make something of them that really sparkles. lol  These ‘building blocks’ are different; values, ideas, principles, boundaries, standards… the decision-making of my life has become the ‘building blocks’ of my future experience.  I’ve got my blocks… now to build something with them.

My building blocks are simple enough, and so far they seem quite sound. My ‘Big 5’ relationship values are my ‘gold standard’ for a thriving healthy relationship composed of thriving healthy individuals. They work for me, and give me room to grow (and demand that I do, because it’s always about practicing). My Big 5 are: Respect, Reciprocity, Consideration, Compassion, and Openness.  Experience tells me that any relationship [of mine] grounded in these values will thrive, and I will thrive, myself.  As an individual human, with my own issues and baggage, and wading through considerable chaos and damage as a trauma survivor, I’ve got a couple ‘building blocks’ that are ‘all about me’, too – how do I guide my own experience? What principles can I rely on to keep me on the path to becoming the best of the woman I have the potential to be? I find that, for now, three very simple ideas are all I need there: mindfulness, perspective, and sufficiency do the job nicely.

8 words, and time and practice to build those basics into a content and satisfied life; it isn’t a destination, it is a journey.  My Big 5 and my basic principles are less a map, or a goal line, and more like… a backpack, base layers, and good preparation, before heading into the wilderness.  Good preparation matters for any project.  Planning supports any endeavor, even when events later stray from the plan.  Good fundamentals result in improved game play.  I could throw metaphors at this all day. I doubt that makes the point any clearer.

Here’s where it gets complicated, for me.  I’ve got my Big 5.  I’ve got my partners.  What have they got? I mean, other than me, practicing my Big 5? We’re all in this sandbox together, and everyone brings their own toys… compatible sets of blocks are helpful, if we’re all going to have a good time.  What happens in that sandbox if I’ve got buttons, and my playmate has blocks? What if someone comes along with an Erector set? Or Fischer-Technics? Playtime just got more complicated; our play sets are not easily going to work well together.  That’s a jigsaw puzzle for another day.

No blocks? How about a wheel barrow?

No blocks? How about a wheel barrow?

Today is a good day to build something wonderful. Today is a good day for kindness. Today is a good day to smile and acknowledge that we’re all in this together. Today is a good day to change the world.

My hike yesterday was lovely. It was beyond lovely; it was restorative, refreshing, recharging… It was lovely, too.

The sounds of this playful creek followed me everywhere, distancing me from everyday stress, noise, and distractions.

The sounds of this playful creek followed me everywhere, distancing me from everyday stress, noise, and distractions.

I realized almost immediately that I’d forgotten my hiking staff. The trails were often quite steep, and the snags and obstacles were plentiful. Mindfulness became a pleasant necessity to hike these trails safely.

Being present matters; there's always something just ahead worth my attention.

Being present matters; there’s always something just ahead worth my attention.

I walked and took in the sounds and scents of the forest, filling my lungs with the sweet soft air, and pausing now and then just to be.

The path brings me alongside the creek several times.

The path brings me alongside the creek several times.

My eyes were sharper than my ability to snap a picture, and the many lovely pictures of dense green forest that I brought home with me rarely capture the squirrels, birds, small mammals, insects, and other signs of life I had attempted to photograph. It doesn’t matter much; the pictures are lovely all the same.

The morning was a green wonderland.

The morning was a green wonderland.

I went out purposefully enough, and intending more than exercise and exploration.  I really needed a bit of a break, a departure from my routine, and some time and space to sort a few things out and meditate on life and love, and consider my trajectory into my future. It’s a birthday thing.

I needed to consider the path I am choosing, rather than simply walk it without thought.

I needed to consider the path I am choosing, rather than simply walk it without thought.

So much of life is directly determined by the choices I make. Simple choices, difficult choices, choice that seem unimportant, choices that seem urgent in the moment…every choice I make, like a single domino in a very long complex arrangement of dominoes standing closely together, is almost insignificant considered independently from all those other choices. Every single choice contains the power to change my experience, my understanding of myself, even to change the world.

Perspective matters, too; what appears to be an obstacle from a distance, may have no effect on the journey I am taking, myself, when I get there.

Perspective matters, too; what appears to be an obstacle from a distance, may have no effect on the journey I am taking, myself, when I get there.

I walked less distance in miles yesterday than I did the week before. The trails were steeper, and the hike took about the same amount of time. The journey was more rewarding – because I allowed it to be? Different choices.  Different experience.

Sometimes the peace I am seeking isn't far removed from the turmoil I am struggling with; it's more a matter of perspective.

Sometimes the peace I am seeking isn’t far removed from the turmoil I am struggling with; it’s more a matter of perspective.

I walked with great care, avoiding snags and missteps. I walked with great awareness, opening my eyes to the lush beauty, my heart to healing, and my consciousness to being present in such a lovely moment.

My journey, my choices, my experience... we are each having our own experience.

My journey, my choices, my experience… we are each having our own experience.

It was a good morning for a solitary walk through every possible color of green.  It often seemed I was truly alone, separate, isolated, and content in my solitude. As is so often the case with perception and appearances, it was fairly illusory. Plenty of other people came to the park to hike those narrow trails yesterday. I occasionally saw them.

There were more flowers than people, which seemed a pleasant balance.

There were more flowers than people, which seemed a pleasant balance.

I contemplated how small a single individual can be…

A small commonplace flower, taken singly, has little impact on my senses.

A small commonplace flower, taken singly, has little impact on my senses.

…and how mighty we can become together.

A hillside covered with tiny white flowers dominates my view.

A hillside covered with tiny white flowers dominates my view.

I love the metaphors that life itself provides as part of the curriculum – and part of the floor show.  I enjoyed a quiet conversation with a small girl, about small flowers, and how easily small things can be a big deal, taken as a part of a greater whole.

There were plenty of small white flowers with which to make the point.

There were plenty of small white flowers with which to make the point.

They sometimes appear to float above the greenery like some strange mist.

They sometimes appear to float above the greenery like some strange mist.

Life isn’t always about flowers.

Sometimes it is about the steps we take...

Sometimes it is about the steps we take…

Sometimes it is about sharing some piece of the journey or crossing paths with another traveler.

Sometimes it is about sharing some piece of the journey or crossing paths with another traveler.

As removed from the world as I felt, as far away from the busy-ness of human affairs, as distant from drama and obligation and stress as it seemed to be out among the trees, I was never really ‘alone’.

Every moment of solitary contemplation...

Every moment of solitary contemplation…

...each opportunity to alter my perspective...

…each opportunity to alter my perspective…

...and moving on to another moment, I found I was quickly followed by others, also seeking, also contemplating, and on their own journey.

…and moving on to another moment, I found I was quickly followed by others, also seeking, also contemplating, and on their own journey.

Yes, we are all having our own experience… yes, our unique experience as a human being can feel pretty lonely sometimes, isolated, neglected, unheard… we are, however, also all in this together on a relatively small ball of rock, each likely doing something like our best, most of the time, or at least thinking so. Choices matter. Awareness matters. Being, right now, just being matters so much.

As I left the park, I pass this kind reminder... we are all interconnected.

As I left the park, I pass this kind reminder… we are all interconnected.

I will be back to this lovely oasis of serenity, and I carry some pieces of it with me even now; a contented smile, a handful of pictures, and the memory of a journey, and a metaphor.  Today is a good day to make good choices. Today is a good day to recognize that we’re all in this together. Today is a good day to treat each being well – including myself. Today is a good day to change the world.

 

I’m getting my gear together this morning, as I sip my coffee.  I’m heading for a morning hike, and a stop at the grocer’s for coffee beans.  Coffee will most assuredly be purchased; the hike is dependent on the weather holding up, since I do not yet have hiking-worthy rain gear. This morning’s planned hike is modest in mileage, and I am as eager as if it were much longer, or more foreign, or more famous. It is somewhere I haven’t been before. It is new. I find mindfulness fairly effortless walking a lovely trail, and I definitely need the restorative, re-charging power of being out among the trees, flowers, humming insects, peeping frogs, and all manner of birdsong. Today I am headed for the Audubon Sanctuary nestled against the edge of Forest Park.

Hiking is already more than ‘taking walking to the next level’, for me. It’s getting me out into the world, and doing so in a calm way that builds my emotional resilience, my awareness, my sense of joyous contentment, and as if all that weren’t lovely enough, I get to enjoy a sense of accomplishment, and progress toward goal – it is a fun challenging way to keep myself on track, building strength, and losing some excess pounds. I giggle when I take a moment to consider that I am losing weight… only to carry more weight. LOL  It’s a fun endeavor on a number of levels, and has this ‘all for me’ feel whether I venture forth alone or with companions, that I enjoy very much. I am embarrassed to admit that I don’t invest as much of my time, will, and effort in what I want specifically for myself as I easily could; for most of my life, investing in myself, or my own needs, did not feel emotionally safe, and I learned to avoid it.  One of the most profound changes I’ve been making this past couple of years is to invest more of me in me.  I’m still struck by how rarely that actually conflicts with the needs of others.

So, here I am at the start of a lovely Sunday morning, sharing some words, sipping some coffee, and contemplating next steps both physical and metaphysical.

Where will my journey take me? Have you ever noticed how little a map really says about a journey?

Where will my journey take me? Have you ever noticed how little a map really says about a journey?

Today is a good day to invest in myself. Today is a good day to practice living The Big 5 (Respect, Reciprocity, Compassion, Consideration, and Openness). Today is a good day to smile and breath deeply. Today is a good day to explore the world.