Archives for posts with tag: A student of life

I slept decently well last night. I woke once or twice, and was up far too early, but I’m sufficiently well-rested to get through the work day. My coffee tastes good. It’s hot. The morning has been fairly routine, although the after-taste of less pleasant qualities of the weekend linger in my recollection; they are not important, and will fade over time, as I contemplate the wonderful moments I spent with my partner, with friends, and in my own company.

The winter holiday season is near. It begins with Thanksgiving, and ends on the other side of the new year. It brings with it weeks of celebrating, cooking, laughing, gift giving, anecdote sharing, taste-testing, coffees with visiting travelers, shopping, crafting, and the beauty of the festive and lavish, the warm and sentimental, and the precious and loved. It is, without question, my favorite ‘time of year’ every bit as much as autumn is my favorite season.

Thinking ahead. Daydreaming becomes planning.

Thinking ahead. Daydreaming becomes planning.

There can be so much artifice in the holidays. It’s easy to make the leap from the flash and fun of artificial greenery with twinkly lights, to putting on ‘a holiday face’ behind which we hide our real selves, and real intentions; I see people do it a lot. It’s a shame, really; we are each so spectacularly who we are. Worthy of consideration, worthy of love, worthy of being appreciated – as we each are. That’s not to say, of course, that we don’t also each have the potential to bring more than a reasonable quantity of nastiness or emotional weaponry to any event we attend, and certainly I am not suggesting I find positive value in rudeness, pettiness, meanness, callousness or a lack of consideration when it turns up on someone’s behavior (not even my own!). What I’m saying is that at our best, when we are making good choices, and being the best of who we have to offer ourselves and the world, we have so much cause to face the world wearing our own face, our own smile, with our own joys and sorrows, honest and naked. Even though I don’t hang freshly cut boughs of pine along my bannister rail each holiday season, preferring some lovely manufacturer frippery, I recognize the value of what is genuine and authentic in the season, and in my fellow travelers.

Today is a good day to contemplate a heartfelt simple holiday. Today is a good day to cherish what is real, and meaningful, in my experience. Today is a good day to be authentically, genuinely, this being who I am right now; no one else can do this one, as well as I can, myself. Today is a good day to find new recipes for old favorites. Today is a good day to reconnect with an old friend – or reread a favorite book. Today is a good day to value who I am right now. Today is a good day to choose associates with great care, selecting for those qualities of life and love that enrich my experience, and selecting travelers on the journey who understand the value of a good holiday. Today is a good day to change the world.

It’s a progression, isn’t it? Who we become over time. How we get from ‘here’ to ‘there’. Our progress in work, in life, in being. This amazing journey of discover we are each on is… yeah. Amazing.

...This is also a journey that can get very 'real'...

…This is also a journey that can get very ‘real’…

I spent much of my time out in the trees meditating. (Less on yoga than I’d have liked to…admittedly, because I didn’t really want to get down on the ground with the bugs and leavings of creatures passing through; no time for hantavirus this year, thanks!) Meditating, and study. One of my partners had recommended some TA (Transactional Analysis) reading, that he has been finding value in. I understand the value of shared language (and the axiom that ‘language functions by agreement’ seems supported by my experience), and I regularly read books and article recommended by significant others of a variety of sorts in order to maintain a shared understanding of the meanings of things in my personal dictionary. Earlier exposures to TA didn’t provide me with much direct benefit for healing or growth, and it doesn’t seem to be a system that is really about that, as much as it is useful for troubleshooting pattern behaviors in small group dynamics – and it’s very good for that.  Having caught up on that bit of reading over the course of a day, I moved on to something that is more specifically suited to actual treatment and/or rehabilitation of my TBI – and stuff that suits that need tends toward the practical, the positive, and things built around repeatable exercises that have clear cognitive or behavioral outcomes, and changes over time to brain structure/function. In this case, I picked up “Hardwiring Happiness: The New Brain Science of Contentment, Calm, and Confidence” by Rick Hanson.  I’m adding it to my reading list today – it’s that big a deal already.

Few books move me immediately, and most of the time practical exercises contained in study material can be a tad generic, or feel a bit forced. My experience with Hardwiring Happiness has been quite different so far; every exercise attempted from a place of commitment and sincerely and wholeheartedly undertaken has resulted in real success and a sense of immediate improvement. Nice. Easy. How much stuff in life actually feels easy? How we pursue growth and change matter. What we fill our heads with matters. The actions we take matter. Our intentions matter, too. My time in the trees felt – and still feels – significant and important to me. I feel, too, as if I have gotten ‘unstuck’ from something I was struggling with on an existential level about the nature of emotional hurts, ancient pain and rage, long-carried baggage, and the nature of forgiveness. This is a nice place to be on a Tuesday morning. I am taking a moment to recognize and celebrate my progress along a difficult journey, and to honor my will to carry on, my goals off in the distance, and my strength carry me onward.

Taking a moment to consider the path ahead for perspective.

Taking a moment to consider the ground already covered and the path ahead for perspective.

The desire to achieve some measure of improved emotional self-sufficiency almost requires that I pause now and then to give myself a moment of recognition and celebration; I’ve worked hard to get here, from somewhere quite different, and it hasn’t been an easy journey. It’s been day by day, book by book, moment by moment, epiphany by epiphany, restful pause by restful pause, appointment by appointment, breakthrough by breakthrough, meltdown by meltdown, choice by choice, change by change… always practicing practices, studying, and taking care of me. The journey stretches far beyond what I can imagine, from where I stand now, and will continue until some time as I choose to quit, or the clock stops ticking altogether; it’s definitely a good idea to stop once in a while along the way for a moment of gratitude, appreciation, self-awareness, and praise.

Getting stuck happens. I had reached a point some weeks ago, where I was having more difficulty, more of the time, suffering more, and feeling as if I were just at the edge of ‘really getting it’ in some way that I couldn’t quite reach…and struggling. Losing ground on emotional resiliency, taking more stuff personally, feeling more of the lingering hurt and frustration in the background becoming more significant in the right-now moments of my everyday experience – and somewhat inexplicably so. Life was pushing a particular lesson at me, hard, and it was as if I couldn’t read the blackboard from where I was seated.  The weekend grieving and painting was important to express myself beyond the limitations of words. This past weekend in the trees helped me find new words, and to contemplate new ideas, and recommit to ideas I know work for me. It turns out that even this area of my life, there are processes I can count on. I remain a student of life, more about questions than answers.  My commitment to mindfulness and approaching each moment eyes wide open to the possibilities of now, and facing experiences as a beginner, open and with a humble heart, still gets me some amazing results. I got unstuck. This is good stuff.  I am hoping to apply the large-scale basics to smaller situations, the sort that blow up out of nowhere leaving everyone feeling sad and lost and wounded, that happen quickly, and dissipate, leaving emotional disarray in their wake. It would be good to build that level of emotional resilience and responsiveness, for my own experience, and for the value it holds for my relationships with others.

Like a paved trail on a sunny day, some of this may seem obvious; it doesn't hurt to check the map once in awhile, anyway.

Like a paved trail on a sunny day, some of this may seem obvious; it doesn’t hurt to check the map once in a while, anyway.

Today is a good day to share progress. Today is a good day to celebrate the many things I do well, get right, and find value in each moment. Today is a good day to make what nurtures the best within me a higher priority than my challenges. Today is a good day to make choices in favor of what meets my needs over time. Today is a good day to change the world.

I like the comfortable safety of solitude. I know being alone is a different experience for each of us; for me solitude feels safe, calm, and vastly soulfully nourishing. The few times my anxiety has found me when I was solitary, it has been likely to be driven by fearfulness of others in my periphery, undetected, or uninvited, or imminent. In my worst freak outs, the best thing that can be done in the moment is provide me with solitude and stillness; for years I did not understand how easy it could be to calm me. I have the weekend to be solitary. I need this time very much right now; grieving is hard on the one grieving, and harder still, perhaps, on those near who are not themselves grieving, but cannot stem the flow of tears. I prefer to grieve in solitude, although… I like hugs a lot, when I’m crying…so…there’s that. Human beings are social creatures. I am, myself, even fairly ‘extroverted’…but I do love solitude, and crave substantially more of it than many people seem to…and rarely have enough.

This weekend my partners are away at a festival. I find myself smiling and wishing them well; I hope it is amazing. Work changed my plans and I am staying home. At this point in the week, I am not regretting the change. Festival attendance hardly seems appropriate to grieving – at least not for me. This week the world lost a young woman with all the potential in the world, and an entire future ahead of her. She was just 13. My cousin’s daughter. Yesterday, an Army buddy moved on to something beyond his mortal existence, at 60-something, having completed his mission in some sense, I suppose. I am not ashamed to grieve these losses. I still go to work. This is my way; in the midst of grief I grab onto what is practical and routine, and hold on to it. I tidy the house after work very attentively and mindfully, cherishing the sensations of touch, the subtle feel of space I am in, the motions of cleaning, straightening, moving from task to task. I commute, enjoying the sensations as summer shifts gears to fall, and people-watching with a curious and open heart. I work. Task after task, I follow each small routine of work and life with greater than usual care, walking a sort of emotional balance beam. As I do, I consider life and death, and grief, and honor the departed in my own way, silently eulogizing them, honoring the memories of shared experiences, questioning, reflecting, and celebrating what they brought to my experience. I am very aware of my mortality and the brevity of life when I grieve. This is my way. There are highs and lows, of course. It’s a process. There are tears. These are emotional experiences. It’s difficult, but feels fairly natural to me, the sense of loss, the hurting, the contemplation…and the pain diminishes over time. I am satisfied with the way I grieve. I suppose, now that I’m over 50, that’s going to come in handy.

Here it is the Friday ahead of a solitary weekend. Here in this still moment I am content and serene. This ‘now’ is just fine, thank you. I will be, too. It’s a choice, and there are verbs involved.

Grieving is a very human experience.  Detail of "Emotion and Reason" 18" x 24" acrylic on canvas w/ceramic and glow, photographed in dim light. 2012

Grieving is a very human experience.
Detail of “Emotion and Reason” 18″ x 24″ acrylic on canvas w/ceramic and glow, photographed in dim light. 2012

Here it is, another day. Another week. Another sequence of moments about to unfold, touched by choices, and circumstances, colored by coincidence and thinking. Today is an entirely new experience. It’s a lovely morning to contemplate that, it is a Monday.

I slept like hell last night. It hardly matters this morning; it has become routine during periods of prolonged wakefulness, to choose an appropriately comfortable supine pose, still in bed, and meditate. There’s no ‘goal’ and I’m not ‘trying to get back to sleep’, I’m simply taking advantage of the quiet night hours to meditate, because I’m awake, because it’s a quiet activity, because it feels good, because it creates a lovely state of relaxation. Sometimes the need is greater, and I sit up and take it quite seriously, meditating in that timeless time in the wee hours, before the alarm goes off. It’s a nice bonus that I am often able to return to sleep afterward. Meditation did nothing to help my sleep, when I tried meditation to help me sleep. Meditation has done a lot to help my sleep in general, now that I am not trying to make it improve my sleep. lol There is real insight somewhere in there.

It is enough this morning that the headache I woke with dissipated while I was meditating, and that I feel rested in spite of having relatively little sleep. ‘Enough’ is good with me; I am not looking for more than that.

Enough.

Enough.

On the subject of new experiences, I spent the weekend focused on study, self-work, contemplation, and yoga. I don’t have a clever portmanteau for it (like ‘stay-cation’ or something of that sort), but it was time I definitely needed after an emotionally difficult week. I am still learning how to take care of me, and a big piece of that is boundary setting, communicating limits, and honoring those boundaries and limits myself enough to remind others to honor them as well. It doesn’t come nearly as naturally to me as undercutting my needs and fostering resentment over time – I’m super good at those, but find they don’t suit my long-term needs, or build healthy relationships.

One choice. One change. One moment.

One choice. One change. One moment.

So…it’s back to work, another week, practical details, calendars, meetings, ‘getting it done’… I have a busy week ahead. I observe that I have both the experience of eagerness to get back to a job I love, as well as mild impatience – because what could be more important than investing my time in me? (Every Monday I face that dilemma, and wonder why our culture is not more advanced by now; we have the technology to provide greater leisure to all…why haven’t we done so? I’m good at being employed, but it isn’t what I want to be doing with my time, in general.)

I am eager, too, to welcome my traveling partner home. I haven’t had any particular stress over his absence, I guess because he doesn’t feel gone to me, aside from missing the experience of his touch. He needed some time away, and certainly I’ve benefited from that time myself. (He said something once about the value of an opportunity to miss each other, and I have observed the truth of it in my own experience.) Still, I enjoy the tales of travelers, the opportunity to sample something different from the experiences I’ve had myself, the newness and intimacy of the restored connection, the subtle differences in language brought home from faraway, and stories. I just love stories, and my partner is a good story-teller. I hope to listen well.

Something changed for me last week. It requires further consideration, acceptance, and understanding. Fewer words, less thinking, and more awareness seem useful on this one, and it may be some time before I write much more about it. I find that I have a more clear idea of what I want in life, what I need from and in my relationships, and the choices it may take to get there. That’s a very big deal, I suppose, although it rather gets in the way of other things just at the moment. The timing is peculiar. Last week sucked in a most extraordinary way, but I managed a good amount of emotional resilience, balance, and self-compassion, and greater ease and a feeling of naturalness to making room for my emotions, and being kind to myself. I had feared learning emotional self-sufficiency might result in … greater loneliness. That isn’t seeming to be the case, so far, instead I feel more whole as I learn skills that allow me to rely on myself as a sort of emotional ‘first responder’. So far, pretty awesome. There’s more to learn, of course, and I suspect that like mindfulness itself, emotional self-sufficiency is more a practice than a goal. 🙂

Finding love everywhere starts with how I feel about myself.

Finding love everywhere starts with how I feel about myself.

So, yeah. Here it is morning, again. Time to start a new day. Today is a good day to treat myself well, and to embrace my values – and my friends. Today is a good day to smile at small children. Today is a good day to remember most people are already doing their very best, much of the time. Today is a good day for kindness. Today is a good day to recognize that respecting my own boundaries and limits, and setting them clearly, and managing them well, is a very nice way to tell myself ‘I love you’. Today is a good day to change the world.

 

It’s a quiet day of solitary practice. I have spent it on meditation, and study, mostly. I started the morning with yoga, and later interrupted it with a walk in the sunshine before the heat of the afternoon sets in. It has been supremely chill and I feel calm and balanced. I generally write quite early in the morning, as I sit down with my first – now, only – coffee of the day.  Today is different. It is a different day, so I guess there’s at least that explanation for it. 🙂

Every day an entirely new experience, a fresh start, a new opportunity to wonder, and to grow.

Every day an entirely new experience, a fresh start, a new opportunity to wonder, and to grow.

This morning I am building my joy on mindfulness, perspective, and sufficiency with compassionate acceptance that others are free to do what they will; their choices and their experiences are not mine. It is, so far, quite a lovely day.

Some of it is about choices...

Some of it is about choices…

Some of it is about perspective.

Some of it is about perspective.

What will I do with the remainder of the day? Well, hopefully more of whatever is delivering on this delightful experience of the moment. I doubt it is as simple as the tasks I am starting and finishing; the yoga, the meditation, the walking in the sun, the two loads of laundry, and the careful study and cross-referencing of more relevant material are not actually why I am enjoying such a lovely day. They are simply what I am doing, from moment to moment, as the day progresses. My limited understanding of things, as it exists now, suggests that it is the choices to do these things for me, in the way I am deciding to do so, and with what specific intent, and level of presence and engagement that is the why of my lovely day. As with most practices, I will have to do it some more to be certain, and to find it a reliably repeatable experience. I’m content with putting in the effort. What could be more worthwhile than learning to treat myself well, and enjoy my experience, unless it may be the later ability to extend that courtesy and general good treatment to others, because it is simply my day-to-day experience, and the way I behave ‘as a practice’?

I don’t have that much to say today. The day is mine, and I will return to it.

Today is a good day to be still for a moment.

Today is a good day to be still for a moment.

Today is a good day to practice what works. Today is a good day to deliver on the promises I have made to myself. Today is a good day to cherish the moment, and pause to be grateful for all such moments as these. Today is a good day for right now. Today is a good day for love, and emotional self-sufficiency. Today is a good day to change the world.