Sunshine and Merriment

August 27, 2014 //

Some days I just have to pause for the good stuff.

One lovely moment in summer.

I woke with a nasty headache this morning, a sort of combination headache, part dehydration, perhaps, and part sinus headache. It seems largely irrelevant now, that was more than an hour ago. I’m already well beyond the challenge of that moment, and quietly enjoying the moments after meditating; still considering the theme of the insistent thoughts that intruded. I am feeling appreciative that life isn’t worse, that’s all.

I’ve been doing ‘the gratitude thing’ on Facebook. I enjoy it and have long since lost count of any number of days; it is enough to be grateful, to appreciate what is good, what is going well, what satisfies my needs. This morning is a little unusual. I am most sensitive to the gratitude of ‘not being worse than it is’ – without any negative emotional experience, and actually also better than neutral. Small things matter. It matters, for example, that although I’m in considerable pain from osteo-arthritis in my spine, pretty much all the time these days, I’m also still walking around on my legs with good ease of movement, in general, and managing 5 miles a day or more. That’s the sort of thing, this morning; gratitude doesn’t have to be dishonest, doesn’t need me to overlook what is real, or that I have moments of suffering. It’s a comfortable and nurturing realization, and I feel whole while considering it.

One beautiful summer day.

Yesterday was hot and sunny. My lunch walk was a test of endurance by the time I returned to the office. I didn’t regret taking the time, or making the effort, the value in the moment is considerable in spite of the heat; exercise, sunshine, the beauty of life and the world around me…totally worth it.

Summer up close; I have to be out in it to see it.

Isn’t that how a lot of things ‘really’ are? The yearned for, paired with the tolerated. The needed, sought understanding there may also be a burden. The anticipated, alongside the dreaded. The pain and the reward. What is enough? Perspective, balance, acceptance, gratitude…all working together in a framework of mindful will. This is a very interesting journey.

Small stuff matters.

Today has all the ingredients of a very good day. What will I choose? What will I learn from moments of suffering? How will I face my challenges, meet my needs over time, and graciously handle the worst of what life throws at me, without being flattened by it? Today feels full of opportunities.

Tags arthritis pain, gratitude, headache pain, living in the moment, meditation, mindfulness, ptsd, TBI, yoga in the morning

Categories Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Metaphors, Mindfulness, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Summer

Ever So Human

August 26, 2014 //

Yesterday was productive, in spite of lingering dizziness, arthritis and headache pain, and a significant shortage of sleep. It was also quite a nice day, with one bit of emotional difficulty in the evening, which didn’t last long and which I wisely followed with an early bed time. Although I only managed about 6 1/2 hours of sleep, it was an improvement over the 4 hours the night before. 🙂

The emotional challenge du jour wasn’t any great mystery, either, it was simple a matter of humanity. In pain, tired from lack of sleep, tired from a long busy workday, excited to see the traveler returned home, I was more volatile that I realized, and took a partner’s irritation and hurt very personally in a moment that was handled poorly. There is a reason so many of the things I am learning to do to support and care for me are referred to as ‘practices’; mastery is not the point. The opportunities to practice are decision-making points. Will I choose wisely? Will I practice? I did last night, and the evening ended well, after I took a time out and took care of my needs (a long soak in Epsom salts, meditation, yoga, nutritional support).

No dizziness this morning, and I feel a tad foolish. I may have given myself two days of vertigo by making a poor choice to try out my partner’s exercise hoop… I had a hoola hoop when I was kid, and it seemed a fun moment to give it a try as an adult. I just didn’t stop to consider that my fused spine, held together with confidence and surgical wire, might rule this activity out for me. At no point did my brain helpfully point out that perhaps a leisure activity that applies a lot of twisting motion to the very location of my spinal fusion might be a poor choice. I paid for that oversight, but find myself fairly appreciative if that is all it turns out to be. It could be much worse.

Things nearly always ‘could be much worse’. When I’m having a shitty day it can be hard to hang on to that thought, but it’s a great observation for perspective. There are people smarter than I am, by far. There are people who are funnier. There are wiser beings and people with much greater ambition. There are some moments in life that blow me away with how awesome and moving they are. There are good days and bad days. Generally, regardless how else any given moment is defined by any one human being – including me – things could be ‘much worse’.

Perspective matters; life looks very different to the wee spider on this rose, than it does to me.

This morning’s meditation and yoga were a gentle opener for what will likely be another lovely day. I’ll do what I can to refrain from setting myself up for failure by building up my expectations; expectations have proven time and again to be a detour off my path that rarely leads anywhere I want to go. Still, as with most mornings, there’s no particular reason to expect the day will turn out poorly, either. It is a day, like so many, that begins with a pleasant morning.

Does a wee spider have expectations?

Today is a good day for love – and for listening. Today is a good day for compassion – and for following through on commitments. Today is a good day to appreciate the efforts of others, and to recognize that most of the time, most people, are doing their best. Today is a good day to be kind, and to be patient. Today is a good day to change the world.

However small we may feel, our choices matter.

Tags choices and change, choose your fun with care, Epsom salts, expectations, love and lovers, meditation is a powerful Rx, mindfulness matters, perspective, practicing the practices, ptsd, TBI

Categories Brain Injury, Epsom salts, Free Will, Healthy Living, Love, Mindfulness, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Roses, The Big 5

Living, Loving

August 25, 2014 //

It is a quiet morning, following a quietly productive Sunday. I spent the afternoon between household chores getting ready for the work week, and tidying up the loft for improved space to paint and to create ‘guest space’, and a bit of painting, too. We have a house guest for a couple weeks, a friend visiting for work. I felt strangely aware of how loud the espresso machine really is, as I made my coffee this morning.

This morning I had that strange vertigo again, that I had yesterday morning. It’s very unsettling, and although it cleared up quickly, I am concerned because it is new. I guess I can expect some bits and pieces to start showing signs of wear; this mortal body is a fairly fragile thing, and I’ve not treated it well over the years.

When my partners alerted me they were on their way home last night, it was clear they’d be home a bit earlier than I had expected, and my willingness to adjust for that allowed me to greet them when they arrived home. I’m glad I did. It was lovely to welcome my traveling partner home, and feel his strong arms around me, and the warmth and love in his embrace. It was a relaxed, happy homecoming and definitely worth the later bed time. I made a point of heading to bed promptly once they had arrived home; staying on schedule and getting enough sleep really matters for me. Making the effort doesn’t always assure success, though, and I was wakeful until after midnight, aware of the presence of our house guest. I managed not to be irked with myself about it, and eventually drifted off to sleep. It was a short night. I will be mindful of that as the day progresses, and make a point of getting to sleep on time tonight.

With just one partner at home, I’ve gotten pretty good at ensuring I meditate, do yoga, and take care of me. I’ve been easily distracted in the past, from self-care and practicing what works to maintain my emotional resilience and perspective, when they are both home. I’ve had weeks of practicing practices and perhaps over time I’ve become sufficiently practiced – comfortable with new routines – that they will be an easier fit with everyone home? I’m hopeful.

It was wonderful to cuddle my traveling partner, now returned home, to find myself experiencing that very particular presence that is his, and to share this love we have. Quite wonderful. This morning, it feels like ‘everything’, and certainly ‘everything’ is enough. 🙂

“Compassion” Harkness 1972

Today is a good day for love. Today is a good day to enjoy what feels good without hesitation. Today is a good day to be the change I wish to see in the world.

Tags a brand new day, a good day for gratitude, a quiet weekend, a song in my heart, a work in progress, aging, an emotional experience, appreciating simple things, asking more of enough, Buddha in blue jeans, Buddha's Brain, building habits for a lifetime, compassion, doing it together, emotional intimacy, enjoying the moment, enough, love and loving, love devotion and surrender, ptsd, TBI

Categories Brain Injury, gardening, Healthy Living, Love, Mindfulness, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress

Welcoming the Traveler

August 24, 2014 //

Today my traveling partner will return home. I will likely be asleep when that time comes, and with work tomorrow that is as it must be. I’m content that he will be here, and I will see him tomorrow. I will spend some portion of the day quietly making our home ready for his return. My at-home partner will head out to spend an evening gaming with friends, and she’ll return with our traveling partner, and a house guest who will be among us for at least a handful of weeks. In principle, I’m entirely comfortable with that. In reality, my PTSD may raise its head to express a different opinion on the matter, at some point, and the knowledge that this is a potential part of my experience would have once set me up for failure by spiking my anxiety level simply from contemplating it. For now, I’m calm and relaxed, and looking forward to sharing time with a new friend; I have skills that support my needs, these days, and find myself generally able to practice them when I need them most. Growth. Change. Choices. It all matters.

I will paint today. It feels good to say it without also anticipating having to tidy it all up, and put it all away, simply because it is Sunday, and I’ll have to spend the week working elsewhere. I’ll pick up enough to be tidy, but without disrupting work in progress. What a luxury!

I’ve had an exceptional week with my at-home partner. I feel good about life and love. I’m eager to be in the arms of the traveler-returned-home. We have each taken time to work on what we needed most to deal with, address, or resolve within our own experience. We’re each, based on the things we’ve said to each other, made great strides along our individual paths. These are beings I love, cherish, and enjoy; being together matters to me, and although love endures time away, it thrives in company. I am eager to see where love takes us now.

It was a beautiful day for love. Today is too.

This morning was an odd one. I woke quite early, around 4:00 am, and as is my practice, went ahead and got up long enough to take my morning medication and go back to sleep for a while. I was groggy and a bit off-balance, not fully awake, and none of that felt amiss – it felt pretty normal for being not-quite-awake earlier than I wanted to get up on a Sunday. That wasn’t the odd part. It got weird when I woke up a bit later, around 6:30 am; I was incredibly dizzy. I don’t mean ‘dizzy like I turned my head too fast’. I was dizzy like I’d had a LOT to drink, dizzy as if I were wasted on alcohol, or ‘still drunk in the morning’ dizzy… it was a very specific and quite severe amount of dizziness. (I don’t drink these days, and haven’t for a long while.) Vertigo. I rarely experience it, but I’m familiar with the concept, and it didn’t freak me out. I had turned over in bed, possibly quite quickly…it’s never had that outcome before. I waited for it to pass, observing the effects calmly and soothing myself with deep relaxing breaths until my balance was restored; the room spun wildly for several seconds, perhaps as much as 2 minutes. I was grateful in the moment that I hadn’t also tried to get out of bed straight away. That wouldn’t have gone well. I make a mental note to make an appointment with my doctor; taking care of me means following up on changes in my health that may be a cause for concern, rather than blowing them off and hoping for the best. I jot down some quick notes about the experience, and the moments afterward, to share with her.

I consider the return of the traveler in the context of also taking care of me, and as so often happens with me, the ideas collide and get jumbled up together. I find myself considering what I can do to take care of me, each day, as a traveler returning home, myself. I leave the house each day to work, returning later with little remaining of the day. There have been many days in my life when that homecoming hasn’t been an easy one, or particularly pleasant for me, because I didn’t do small things in the morning to be ready for my own return. I think it matters; I am starting the day fresh in the morning, and I will return home tired and needing to relax and take care of me at day’s end. Mornings when I take time to quickly make my bed are followed by evenings returning home to a space that looks more orderly. This nurtures and supports something within myself that I value. If I toss my towel on the bathroom floor after my morning shower, it’ll be there when I come home, most likely, and the resulting sloppiness and chaos are unpleasant for me, where the moment of effort, the small action, of either hanging it up to dry, or dropping it in the laundry, would likely be unnoticed in the morning routine. These are simple things. I look around my room and observe the disorder that has crept in over time: a couple stacks of papers unfiled, unsorted, and balanced on books, a small assortment of miscellany that hasn’t been properly put away, my still unmade bed…I can do better. I have. I even prefer it.

Small details matter.

I smile, still relaxed, and enjoying a personal change; there’s no self-directed judgment or criticism, no nastiness or blame. This is new for me. I’m just sitting here contentedly observing opportunities to treat myself with greater care and courtesy, and contemplating how to best make that happen straight away – because it matters to me, and I matter to me. When did I get here? I like this perspective; the view is pleasant.

Today, yoga, meditation, laundry, housework, and some aquatic gardening – and painting. Today is a good day to enjoy change.

Tags consideration, love and lovers, meditation, mindfulness matters, order out of chaos, ptsd, so dizzy, summer days, taking care of me, TBI, The Big 5, the traveler returns, vertigo

Categories Art, art and the artist, Brain Injury, Healthy Living, Love, Mindfulness, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, The Big 5, Uncategorized

Awake and In the Moment

August 23, 2014 //

The title sounds promising. It is, however, the truth and for the moment nothing more. It’s 2:11 am. I am awake in this moment. I was so incredibly sleepy, and feeling deep down tired when I went to bed, early, last night. I slept deeply, soundly, restfully… for two hours. Then another two hours. And another. This time, I meditated for a while but didn’t find myself feeling like sleep; I’m not anxious, so calming and soothing myself didn’t result in anything but a calm heart. Nice by itself, I’m not bitching. Yoga, too, did nothing to return my interest to sleep, but my back feels a bit more limber, and I am comfortable but for my throbbing ankle, which by itself would not keep me awake.

I wandered the house restlessly for a moment or two, and stepped out into the cool night air and looked for the stars. Living near a huge Intel facility that lights the night sky, seeing stars is not a given, and tonight the cloudy skies are illuminated from below; there were no stars to see tonight. I sat quietly in my studio (I love saying that!) for a time, contemplating the work in progress, and giving some thought to an idea developing in the periphery of my consciousness, and feeling ‘at home’. I am neither uncomfortably warm, nor feeling chilly. I am quite comfortable. I feel at ease.

Why the hell am I awake?

It’s a rhetorical question; there is no why. I am awake. The world is quiet and dark, at least from my current vantage point. No trouble-shooting required. I quietly amuse myself flipping through the evening’s Facebook feed. I am content with being awake, for the moment, and looking forward to the morning with friends at the Farmer’s Market.

Having read a considerable amount of the science available regarding sleep, I have my monitor brightness quite dim, and enough gentle room light to prevent the monitor from being a high-contrast light source. My intention is to prevent whatever I choose for entertainment or passing the time in the night from becoming something so stimulating that it actively prevents further sleep. I take a moment now and then for deep cleansing breaths, and a chance to observe the slow approach of the shores of dreamland. I’ve learned a lot about enjoying the wakefulness in the night without discouraging more sleep. I yawn. I smile. It’s coming…

I don’t know what tomorrow will hold, but poised wakefully in this moment between yesterday and tomorrow, feeling satisfied, balanced, and content, I’m feel ready for it. It’s been a lovely week.