Being The One

August 27, 2015 //
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I am sipping my coffee after a very good night’s sleep, and waking with relative ease to the sound of the alarm. I am in pain this morning, and so stiff that I’m more than a little grateful that my bed doesn’t rest on the floor – how would I get up? Sometime after the shower that eases some of the stiffness, and the yoga that moves that process along, and the meditation that insulates my nervous system and emotions from the battering the world may (or may not) deliver later, I am sipping my coffee and letting my mind coast…

Humble beginnings; the herbs in my garden have the power to change an entire meal.

Humble beginnings; the herbs in my garden have the power to change an entire meal.

I find myself considering how often the movies deliver to us a Hero (or more rarely a Heroine) who is somehow ‘The One’ – the only being in the right place, at the right time, with the right skills and a dash of good fortune and great sidekicks. They rarely seem aware they are The One. It takes persuasion, convincing, sometimes even force to get them to understand that ‘everything’ depends on them. Heroes are humble like that. At some point in any good tale, the Hero has some sort of awakening moment, at which point he (or she) recognizes ‘the truth of it’ and goes forth to save the day – with some luck, and the help of their trusty sidekicks. Most of us have a sidekick or two in life, someone – a friend, a family member, a work buddy, a lover – who is reliably ‘there for us’ when we need emotional support. Most often, we (and by we I mean ‘me’) don’t seem aware that we’re the hero of the story…that we are, in our own narrative, The One. So far so good in hero territory, I suppose…only…where’s that moment of awakening, when we each take on the world – or at least our own circumstances – and solve the puzzle, master the challenge, clear the hurdle, or conquer our foe? There’s a metaphor here, but there is also something very directly real and true in it. We do well to be our own heroes, and to embrace our opportunity to be The One in our own experience.

Remember Keanu Reeves, in The Matrix, that moment where he begins to do his virtual training in the matrix, learning to fight, to fly, all that? When did you last take your own education so seriously that you plugged into a machine and just went for it – for hours, or days, or years if it takes that? (It’s those damned verbs, again!) How much time do you put into becoming the person you most want to be, investing  your will in that endeavor with mindful deliberately chosen actions? I know I could do more, myself, and within the thoughts I find the questions that light the way along the path ahead.

Be ‘The One’. Be ‘The One’? What does that even mean, really? I hear it, and I feel a certain implicit understanding of the thing…but that’s hardly enough to manifest a change, is it? Being ‘The One’ in my own narrative, the hero of my own experience, implies that I value myself as worthy – even in my humblest bumbling and fumbling and inept moments, even as I learn things I didn’t know previously, even as I swing and miss, even as I try – when I meant to do. Being ‘The One’ in my own story means trusting the hero to save the day – all the while aware that I am my own hero, and saving the day clearly means there will be verbs involved, and as in any exciting hero’s tale, I will likely get it wrong once or twice, bring my world to the brink of disaster perhaps, but always finding my way at the last minute. Or something very like that.

Isn’t it okay to grow and learn and change? Isn’t incremental change over time part of the process of healing and growth? How much more easily will I make progress if I am seeing myself as the hero of the story – and actively investing in my further growth, trusting that the journey will take me where I most need to go, and accepting my missteps along with my great triumphs as being part of the experience all along? Yes, it is okay – totally okay. I know the truth of it, even as I struggle sometimes with the reality of how many damned verbs really are involved, and how relentlessly continuous the journey can sometimes feel. Being ‘The One’ has immense power to heal and transform and bring change…but there’s rarely a great prophet around to tell us who we are when we most need to hear it – making us, once again, ‘The One’ – the one with the message to the woman in the mirror.

A beautiful sunset, a cherished experience.

A beautiful sunset, a cherished experience.

I enjoyed last evening in the company of a friend. The conversation went a lot of places, and as with some friends more than others, the conversation was fairly ‘deep’. I woke this morning from dreams filled with reminders of things said, feeling inspired, and experiencing a deeper understanding of what being ‘The One’ in my own experience may require of me in will, and in action. I’m not likely to save New York City from disaster…or to save the world from alien invaders…but I very easily could be ‘The One’ who saves the day – my day – probably from me. 🙂

I take a moment, sipping my coffee, to appreciate how many times friends become sidekicks when I most need one, and how often sidekicks turn out to be great prophets revealing that particular truth I most need to hear. Today is a good day to be grateful for the connections I share with people – we are each so very human, each having our own experience – each the hero of our own adventure story – it’s quite wonderful when we connect, overlap, share the moment – and save the world.

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Categories Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Metaphors, Mindfulness, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, The Art of Being, The Big 5

Waking Up Confused

August 26, 2015 //
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I slept very deeply through the night, and woke to the insistent beeping of the alarm in a state of serious confusion. First, I wasn’t sure what the beeping was. I also thought it was Saturday. Oh, right – Friday. No…wait… I started to get up, and wobbled with a moment of vertigo, and the awareness of arthritis pain. I sat down abruptly, dizzy, and waited a moment before trying the whole thing again – and now pretty sure it wasn’t Saturday, or Friday, but not sure what day it actually is as I lurch toward the bathroom stiffly.

Minutes later, I’m at least pretty sure it is a work day, and although I am sorting through things and getting my bearings, it is some additional time later before I am clear that it is Wednesday, definitely a work day, and I start to feel more or less actually awake. I have the nagging feeling I am still not on track…a certain sense that something is missing… a shower, yoga, meditation…what could be missing? I wander sort of randomly through my small apartment, puzzled. Standing in the open patio doorway, feeling the morning air filter in from the pre-dawn darkness, just breathing and taking it all in is when I notice… no coffee. I mean, not yet. I haven’t made it, is what I’m saying.

I haven’t been awake all that long, it’s entirely reasonable that I don’t have coffee in front of me, at the moment I realize the lack. It is nonetheless reassuring to put that ‘something’s missing’ feeling to rest. The last couple mornings I have felt a bit more sluggish and slow to wake than usual. This morning was more intense still. I wonder for a moment what’s up with that, and wonder about the changing season and day length, and how much it may affect such things. Over time I have learned that one good response to confusion, particularly upon waking, is to slow down and take my time getting my bearings – avoiding making important decisions that require immediate action is a good idea, too. lol I eventually sort things out, given the time, and patience with myself. (I’m a bit disappointed it isn’t already Friday…but since I have plans after work, I’m also quite pleased not to have missed out on Wednesday!)

Last night was quite a treat. I sip my coffee (now prepared, and in front of me) and linger over my recollections of the cherished time spent with my traveling partner. He will indeed be traveling soon, and I won’t see him for days – may not hear much from him either, knowing he will be quite busy seeing the world from another vantage point. I don’t tend to take that personally, or worry overmuch when he is away. He’s a grown, capable man with a great deal of experience, prepared for most things. I could while away some unpleasant hours stressed out about the statistical chances of plane crashes, or violent crime, but it’s not a healthy pass time, and quite unproductive; whatever the far-reaching odds of misfortune, in real life generally it is more likely than not that everything will be just fine. He’s very considerate, when he travels, about things like notes letting me know he arrived here or there safely, so there’s not much to worry about. Hell – in any worst case scenario, I always come back to the awareness that for each of us our mortal time is too brief, anyway, and known to be finite. I let my mind be at ease, and welcome him home with joy every time he is away. There are verbs involved, and I prefer to choose other verbs than ‘panicking’ ‘worrying’ or ‘creating needless drama’.

Did I mention last night was lovely? It was. Quite. I am still smiling and wrapped in love. In the background, my thoughts continue to linger over the time we spent together.

Autumn rose hips.

Autumn rose hips.

Autumn is quickly approaching. There are early sightings all around, already: rose hips turning orange and red, leaves here and there beginning to yellow, fall-flowering wild flowers beginning to bloom, and small forest creatures working to pack on the winter weight for the coming colder seasons. Fall is my favorite, the crisp cold mornings wake me so completely, and the scent of fireplace smoke mingling with late season barbecue grilling is a delight on an autumn afternoon that begins warm, but quickly cools to an uncomfortable chill. Office conversations and meeting openers will soon shift from camping trips to football season…

I continue to sip my coffee. It’s very good this morning, and I am enjoying it before it can grow cold. I’ve got an Usher song stuck in my head this morning, but with the patio door open so early I am not inclined to put on the stereo; waking my neighbors to Usher before 6:00 am seems more than a little inconsiderate, so I won’t be doing that. It does not change the music in my head to enjoy the quiet of morning quietly. I can listen to the stereo at a pleasantly loud volume after work, dancing through whatever chores remain to be done this evening, and that will be enough.

Enough.

Enough.

It is, in fact, a morning of ‘enough’ – enough sleep, enough time to really wake up, enough of the simple resources of adult life that put hot coffee in front of me with such ease, enough to smile about, enough to begin the day with contentment and joy… simply and entirely enough. [Your results may vary.] The morning seems so saturated with sufficiency that it seems enough to mention that it is enough to be here, now, smiling. Additional words might be superfluous, as with the excess of buying ‘one more of those..’ when more can neither be used, nor enjoyed.

Today is a good day for ‘enough’, and as is so often the case with moments of confusion, the confusion I began with didn’t last – which, as it turns out, is also enough. Today is a good day to use my words, and also to embrace the quiet when the words run out. Today is a good day to enjoy things as they are. Today is a good day for love, and lovers, and a good day to connect with friends. Today is a good day to breathe deeply, and take great delight in small moments that feel wonderful, filling up on what feels good in each moment, however fleeting. Savoring this life, these moments, is sort of the point of having them. Certainly, enjoying them changes my experience of the world.

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Categories autumn, Brain Injury, Free Will, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5, women, Words

Sitting Quietly

August 25, 2015 //
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This morning I am not waking up easily. I’m awake, showered, dressed…but my consciousness is dimmed, and I am getting a sluggish start to the day. Coffee soon. I sat quietly for some time, unconcerned about starting coffee, in the space between my yoga and my shower. I will have my coffee in hand in some few minutes, and I will return to sitting quietly; there is no reason to rush the morning, the day, or the moment.

That’s one lovely thing I enjoy about practicing mindfulness – the simple pleasure of sitting quietly, breathing deeply, and just sort of…coasting: awake, aware, calm, and simply being present, listening to the sounds of the day, and the world around me. It wasn’t easy at first, sitting quietly has its own challenges in a world that discourages daydreamers, and time wasters. Restless urges to return to motion, to pick up the thread of some idea or ‘problem’, to be productive, all get in the way of the simplicity of stillness.

This morning I am not waking so easily, and because I am a bit slowed down, sitting still is the easier thing. I take the opportunity – and the hot cup of coffee – to relish this quiet morning, and to sit, still, and enjoy it.

There's room for stillness in this moment.

There’s room for stillness in this moment.

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Categories Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Mindfulness, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, The Art of Being

All the Win, All the Good

August 24, 2015 //
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It’s a Monday morning, and I woke rather reluctantly this morning. I slept well and deeply, and I suspect that without the alarm going off I’d have slept much later. The apartment is comfortably cool. The morning is a quiet one. My coffee is hot – and untouched, thus far. My medication has my made my stomach just a bit upset, so for now I am drinking water and waiting for that feeling to pass. Coffee soon.

I woke in pain, a sign that autumn is coming. Yoga, a hot shower, more yoga…I feel less stiff, and the pain is reduced, but still present in the background. I remind myself to be kind to myself and take things slowly as the day begins. I am smiling in spite of the pain this morning; the weekend was just that good. No stress. No drama. No frustration. There were plenty of verbs involved, and more than one opportunity to handle things differently. The choices matter.

“Perfect” is not a thing I’m likely to find becoming a defining characteristic of self, and by keeping my goals more practical I avoid setting myself up for failure. I keep practicing – simple things, too, like kindness, compassion, graciousness…basically, I keep practicing treating people well, including myself. I am learning the differences between self-indulgence and self-care, and learning the value of being authentically myself moment-to-moment, fearlessly. My results vary – on the whole, my results are profoundly positive improvements in my day-to-day experience. I find that good practices still require the practicing; it is short-sighted to see good practices as a means to an end, or an achievement to be mastered.

Whole, fresh, healthy, nourishing...good qualities for food to have.

Whole, fresh, healthy, nourishing…good qualities for food to have.

Yesterday I spent some time contemplating dietary changes for improving my health and fitness based on the most current science, and putting myself back on track to reach my fitness goals. I could keep making excuses about how I got here (having gained a handful of pounds in the hot weather), but honestly it’s neither required, nor of real value – it’s time for verbs. Thinking things through, and making adjustments to how I plan to eat going forward is the easy part. The real challenge isn’t even bringing the vision to life; I find getting started down a better path to be fairly simple, too. For me, the challenge comes later – after work, when I’m tired and don’t feel like exercise, or cooking, and find myself faced with the temptation of effortless calories – but the lack of effort, itself, is a hallmark of calories that are likely not the healthiest for me. I know to avoid heavily processed food products, and that’s easily done all day long…until I am tired. Honestly, at that point, I am generally not in need of additional calories anyway. So I’m shifting things around, switching up what I keep in the pantry, and adjusting both my everyday menu, and the timing of my meals during the work week. I finished the evening satisfied with the changes I’ve committed to – one of which is to be sure to get the rest I need. That’s a dietary change? Hell, yes it is – the science suggests inadequate rest affects how efficiently we process calories, and how our metabolism works.

As with so many things, living alone requires that I be very attentive to my diet, and the amount of exercise I get (or don’t) – I’m the only person facing the outcome day-to-day, and the first person who is going to notice and the only person who can act to change the outcome, at all. I’m not surprised that I gained a couple of pounds in the heat of summer – I could have chosen differently and potentially avoided that, although my thyroid does have something to say about it, I still have verbs to call upon so no excuses. I’m not being unkind with myself; boundaries, once set, need to be enforced – even with myself.

I take a systematic approach to these sorts of things, and I spent a couple of hours reviewing data regarding where my grocery money was going, and what sorts of things meet my current needs, and where there was waste, room for improvement, or potential to make small changes for the better that will have immediate benefit. I find change that is positively reinforced with results is easiest to maintain, personally. Learning to cook for one more skillfully will have benefit, primarily in reduced waste. Refining the staples in my pantry is another easy win for immediate benefit. Spending time looking at the most recent science on diet and nutrition, as well as taking a look at how my needs at this point in my adult life are different, result in better decision-making along the way. Taking time to recalibrate my eye to appropriate portion size relative to my size – and my goal weight, and where I am in life – will simplify portion control, which also has immediate benefit. These are good places to start, for me.  I’m even excited about it – and that’s also part of the success; it’s hard to act on change if I don’t want to manifest the change I am considering in the first place. 🙂

Sometimes starting isn’t as easy as it looks ‘on paper’, and to help myself along I also commit to repeated acts of ‘positive self-sabotage’. When I stop by the grocery store tonight, as I move through the aisles, everything I consider will be met with a silent question. “Does this choice meet my longer term needs over time, consistent with the changes I have mapped out?” If the answer is not a firm and obvious ‘yes!’ then whatever it is stays on the shelf. Sounds simple enough. There are still verbs involved.

Today is a good day to live life by my own rules. Today is a good day to take the very best care of me, and preserve a comfortable ‘now’, while also taking a long view about the journey ahead. Today is a good day to consider change – and embrace it. Today is a good day to change my world.

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Categories Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Mindfulness, Perspective, The Art of Being

Moments

August 23, 2015 //
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I’m on my second coffee. I am enjoying it with local low-temperature pasteurized non-homogenized half-n-half, and half a teaspoon of date sugar. The beans are a freshly roasted medium-roast Brazilian, ground immediately before making use of them. The music in the background is rather louder than many people prefer their ‘background’ music to be. It is later in the morning than I generally write; I slept in this morning, and took my time with waking up. I enjoyed my first coffee before meditation, letting the cup warm my hands, breathing the scent of it deeply, and simply being right here. It’s that sort of morning, on a weekend filled with moments.

Yesterday, after planting the one full-size rose that will be in my patio garden, I sat quietly letting the morning unfold around me, and feeling the chill morning air tickle my bare toes. The air, then, was soft and still. I enjoyed the distant, uninvolved companionship of the neighborhood squirrels, robins and crows, enjoying their morning repast. They are aware of me, but unconcerned.

One of my neighbors enjoying breakfast al fresco.

One of my neighbors enjoying breakfast al fresco, on another morning.

Later, in the evening, I again sat on the patio, wrapped in the strange golden light of evening, distant wildfires coloring the evening light, and changing the taste and scent of the air. The leaves rustled gently in the breeze that brought the smoke. I listened to the rustling for some longish time. A pair of ducks lands in the swimming pool just across the lawn. I watch them awhile. The female hops out of the pool, and slowly makes her way my direction. I sit quietly, surprised to see her being so direct about it. She steps up on my patio, and up to my feet. She looks at me. I look back. She turns and nibbles some bugs off a potted plant at the edge of the patio, looking at me over her shoulder as if wondering if I mind sharing. She sat a moment, observing me, then headed back to the pool. I sat awhile longer as the golden glow of evening became twilight, and the rustling of leaves became a chorus of peeping tree frogs in the distance.

The sky filled with the haze of distant wildfires.

The sky filled with the haze of distant wildfires.

This morning, after my first coffee, sometime before my second, I stood in the patio doorway, closed this morning because the haze of smoke from distant fires continues to present a modest health concern. I watch the morning light brighten to day, and notice a squirrel on  my patio, checking each pot for hidden goodies in the soil. She looks at me over the rim of a blue and white china pot with a miniature rose in it, and for a moment we hold each other’s gaze as she thinks over whether to stay or go, having noticed my presence. I stand very still – stillness is where my head was, anyway – and she gets back to the business of checking each pot, rummaging through the dirt, moss, leaves, and bits of things that have fallen. Now I know why some of my plants are regularly uprooted in some way; I had had my suspicions, but now there is no doubt. As I continue to watch, she reaches up and grabs a young, newly opened rose, and appears to rifle through the petals, turning it this way and that, and finally nibbling at…something. I watch intently. She pauses, and standing tall looking at me, I see that she has a small green worm or caterpillar in her tiny adept hands. She quickly munches it, then bounds away.

Each of these moments lingers with me, and I allow myself the joy of savoring them, letting them become a more permanent part of my recollection, and sitting contentedly with the feelings; the more time I spend immersed in positive emotional experiences, the less negative bias exists in my thinking, and my implicit assumptions.

An excellent source of information on this and other good practices to improve one's experience.

One source of information about the practice of savoring positive experiences.

There’s not a lot more I know how to say about this. There’s science to support the practice of making a point to savor positive experiences, and linger in those moments, as a method of reducing negative bias…but…even if it was 100% bunk pseudo-science, when I simply consider the feel of it, as a practice, and how it enriches my quality of life to actually make a point to enjoy living, I find that I no longer need to ‘prove it’ to myself – and certainly, there is no requirement to ‘prove it’ to you. You can give it a try as a practice, or don’t, or already are…and the decision you make to continue, or disregard, will be your own. I’m okay with all that; results vary, and you are having your own experience. I’m just saying, as choices go, I do enjoy making a point to really feel the lovely moments that happen so often.

Today is a good day to enjoy each moment. Each moment we enjoy changes the world.

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Categories Brain Injury, Free Will, gardening, Healthy Living, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5
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