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A Day Ahead

January 18, 2013 //
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It’s very early to be writing. Ordinarily, I’d at least also be sipping coffee while I wake up and prepare for the day. Today feels like a test of my strength, my resolve, my balance, and my desire for change. No coffee, no breakfast – instead I am due for some blood work for an upcoming physical, and it is the last (I hope) big day of moving. My bad planning put them on the same morning. It is, however, morning and mornings are new beginnings. It may test me, but it’ll be an open book test…

I didn’t sleep well last night. I barely slept at all. I wasn’t especially anxious during the night, but I didn’t fall asleep easily, and I woke around 1:30 am, and struggled to return to sleep, then woke groggily to an alarm that just couldn’t have felt any less appropriate. I managed to rouse myself enough to be awake.  At least I carried last evening’s feeling of hope forward with me into the new day – that feels good.  I am eager, though, to be done with the work of the day before it has begun; I’d simply rather be at home with my family.

A few minutes in quiet contemplation of the day ahead, and I’ll be out in the world living the day and doing my best, and hopefully remaining mindful that we are each having our own experience.

Categories Relationships, Sleepless Nights, Words

An Odd Quiet Moment

January 17, 2013 //
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It’s been a tough few days. Actually, for me it has been a challenging few weeks, of soul searching, questions, doubt, insecurity, fear, anxiety, perspective altering information, gains, losses, love, Love, anger, disappointment – did I mention the fear, insecurity, and anxiety? It has been emotionally busy…difficult…painful…meaningful…and worthwhile and necessary.

This week I saw two loving beings be better than circumstances require, more compassionate, more rational, and more supportive under stress than people are expected to be. I saw some of the best that ‘civilized’ humanity has to offer one another. I am awed. Almost speechless with wonder – and appreciation that two such people are part of my life. I hope to live up to that example, myself. I’d like to turn 50 being the very best person I’ve ever been, able to make use of a lifetime of wisdom, and surrounded by people who love me.

Evening light…and a quiet moment. I am not alone tonight, I am surrounded by love and a significant measure of patience, and support. I won’t be writing long tonight, there isn’t that much left to say right now. There aren’t enough words to write enough thank you’s to express how I feel tonight. I think I could spell it ‘hopeful’.

Categories Anxiety, Perspective, Relationships, Turning 50, Words

Observations about Anxiety

January 15, 2013 //
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Yesterday’s pain loiters in my consciousness, an unwelcome visitor whose incessant self-centered small talk has become a sort of white noise of negative messaging in the background of my day; anxiety. My intellect, and years of experience, tell me the anxiety, although difficult to dismiss or suppress, isn’t ‘real’. Well, it isn’t real like my keyboard, my office chair, my desk, or the sounds of humanity all around me. It’s a very different sort of ‘real’, commanding my attention without a concrete presence.

I am trembling and nauseous, watchful and hesitant, short of breath and feeling the weight of my fears and doubts on my chest. “It will pass…” I tell myself, over and over, as I work. “Focus on work, follow the routine…” the mundane details of daily life distract and soothe…eventually.  I’m sleeping at night… that’s something. Anxiety is much worse if I am not sleeping… but the nightmares ruin my concentration and feeling of peace. Nightmares of violence, nightmares of being trapped, nightmares that are my sleeping mind alerting my waking mind that I feel overwhelmed – as if I didn’t know. The headache isn’t helping me with finding balance and feeling calm, a search that has gradually become more a puzzle than a journey, over the past year.  I hurt and it clouds my thinking.

…I need some quiet time to think. I need to spend some quality time with myself – figure things out, focus on my heart, my soul… I need to paint.  Peculiarly, although I am aware of my needs, I struggle to meet them lately. My last opportunity, and only opportunity since before the holiday season, ended badly – I was anxious almost to the point of terror, and feeling more lonely than solitary, confused, and somehow bereft of purpose and meaning, both trapped and exposed. It wasn’t a very good way to spend 24 hours and now I find myself vaguely reluctant to try again, even while I feel like I can’t manage my time well enough to get a moment alone. Being a human primate, a being of both reason and emotion, sometimes seems needlessly complicated.

I need to walk more; I can really think when I am walking. I need to be more consistent with my yoga practice; it helps me relax and be mindful and serene, and compassionate with myself. I need to talk less, and listen more. I need to find a quiet space to call my own. I have hopes that the rose garden can become that space, over time… I sure need to figure something out, solve the anxiety like a problem, somehow.

Categories Anxiety, Art, Post Traumatic Stress, Words

How Do I Find ‘Positive’, When I Feel So Negative?

January 14, 2013 //
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Just in case you ever wonder if I have bad days, bad moments, insecurity or self doubt… you needn’t wonder.  And with the magic of modern medical science, I can tell you exactly nothing about whether my brain injury, my hormones, or my post traumatic stress bear the larger burden of my poor experience today. I can tell you, however, that exactly as with all my other bad days, bad moments, poor choices, tough times… every moment has one thing in common: me. Sometimes the choice very much seems to be between being…and… not being. It’s hard to read my own words on other days, from some other perspective, trying to make some other choice, written from some moment of hope or positive experience.

I probably cry more than a necessary amount, and lately I’ve been getting re-acqainted with despair (one of my least favorite emotions). My intellect tells me I can not count on these feelings for good decision making, but right now I doubt I can count on anything at all for good decision making. My experience feels permeated by doubt, soaked in fearfulness, wrapped in anxiety, and certainty that any solution to today will be forgotten in some tomorrow’s other problem. I feel worn down and regretful, tired and discouraged.  I lack hope.

What sucks is that broken or not, I have a decent brain that does its best to tell me something true and real. I know there are people without clean running water, without enough food to eat, without appropriate clothing to wear, without the certainty of the security of their home and person, or even entirely without a home.  So, ‘poor me‘, right? What right do I have to complain that my experience doesn’t feel good today? I don’t really know what to do with that.

Yesterday ended well (I think…), so why do I hurt so much today, over so much of yesterday? Why do I get hung up on what hurts? I’m tired. Brain tired. Heart tired. Soul tired. I do what I can… I don’t know how to make it feel like ‘enough’. There is no Rx for ‘happiness’, just me, some words, and time… the cycle of my thoughts and emotions today brings to mind the driver mired to the axles in mud, spinning his wheels, gas pedal to the floor, frustration and fury… over and over again, even though it didn’t work the first time. If I could just gain a few moments of calm, a few experiences of success, a few days of joy… maybe I could take another look at the challenges and find a solution that works… or not.

…Maybe I just need some sleep.

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Categories Brain Injury, Menopause, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Words

The Parable of Glitter

January 11, 2013 //
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One of the lessons I have learned from practicing meditation is that life is full of education, parables, allegories, metaphors, and that the lessons I learn largely depend on whether my eyes and my mind are open to the moment.

Consider the Parable of Glitter.  I’ve loved the sight of glitter as long as I can recall. Tubes of it catch my eye when I shop, and I fondly recall the simple crafts of childhood that often involved glitter and glue. (If you have memories of glitter crafts, too, this may be more meaningful for you.)  I woke this morning to a landscape of white.  A very heavy frost, or perhaps as suggested by my partners over coffee, actual snow had accumulated in the night.  I sipped my coffee sitting alone and quiet watching the morning sun slowly heat the deck, a soft mist beginning to rise. I noticed to my great delight that the very air seemed just filled with glitter! Silver bright flecks with sharp edges flashing like twinkle lights densely filled the air, the sky, every space I could see outside the window. I was in awe with childlike amazement – I’ve never seen such a thing as the sky filled with glitter!

I went outside to see it up close, to see it in more detail, perhaps to touch it and ‘make it real’. Standing in what must have been the thick of it, I was surprised and disappointed, frustrated to find it had all but disappeared in all directions. A few sad flakes appearing to linger in the air was the extent of anything to see.

Like choices. From a distance, eyes wide open to the possibilities, there are so many choices in each moment we have. We can alter our reality at any time, simply by making a choice.  Standing in the thick of life, the choices we see available to us are limited – by our vision.

This is not the end of the Parable of Glitter. Later as I walked and thought about choice, meditated on the nature of how our vision limits our perception of choice, I realized that when I was mindful of what was ahead of me along the way, I could see all that glitters, just ahead on my path.

The Parable of Glitter – choice is limited only by vision, and glitter looks amazing in sunshine.

Categories Metaphors, Parables, Perspective, Words
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