Archives for posts with tag: ACT

Overtime, what we practice regularly – whatever it is – becomes what we tend to do by default. “Neurons that fire together, wire together.”  I first read that observation, myself, in Buddha’s Brain: The Practical Neuroscience of Happiness, Love, and Wisdom, by Rick Hanson. It was one of those ‘light bulb moments’ for me, reading those words. A lot of things fell into place with reading those words, in that order, presented in the context of that book, at that time in my life, and I’ve held on to it through numerous small ups and downs, transitions, and changes. Very few things are easy or ‘over night’ or ‘like flipping a switch’ with regard to changing habits, programming, or long-standing behavior that once coped well for…something. I keep at it. Sometimes I feel discouraged, or fatigued, or frustrated. I experience doubt. I keep coming back to this idea that the neural plasticity that is such a big part of what makes me the adaptable being I am can be harnessed by will to make changes I want, not just changes along the way.

Reading the books does not create change. It is our actions that change us, even the action of thinking differently.

Reading the books does not create change. It is our actions that change us, even the action of thinking differently.

Some very worthy words.

Some very worthy words.

I continue to practice the things I learn that ‘work’, and by ‘work’ I mean that they are practices that improve my everyday experience of life, result in improved emotional resilience, perspective, and a high level of general contentment, and tend in general to improve what can be improved and don’t do any damage to me as a being or an organism. It does take practice, though. Practice is just what it sounds like, too; a verb. A repeated, continuing application of specific actions, at regular intervals, made with effort, and will, and continued in a deliberate way in spite of obstacles – a verb. Or several. The exercises in Just One Thing are more practical, and there’s less science. I keep practicing. Picking up Hardwiring Happiness: The New Brain Science of Contentment, Calm, and Confidence, over the weekend, and finally taking a look inside was a really first-rate choice. Within the first page or two I had already highlighted some eye-opening paragraphs and turns of phrase that framed up reliably positive next steps in a powerful way.

“The brain is the organ that learns, so it is designed to be changed by your experiences.”

Or how about…

“Connected by the neural equivalent of a four-lane superhighway, your activated amygdala commanded your hippocampus to prioritize this stressful experience for storage, even marking new baby neurons to be, in effect, forever fearful. Vicious Circles Over time, negative experiences make the amygdala even more sensitive to the negative. This snowballing effect occurs because the cortisol that the amygdala signals the hypothalamus to call for enters the bloodstream and flows into your brain, where it stimulates and strengthens the amygdala. Now the alarm bell of your brain rings more easily and more loudly. Making matters worse, even after the danger has passed or turns out to be a false alarm, it takes many minutes to metabolize cortisol out of your body. For example, you may have had a close call while driving and still felt revved up and shaken twenty minutes later.”

Another important observation that got my attention, specifically regarding how PTSD ‘works’

“Implicit memory includes “procedural knowledge,” which is how to do things, from riding that bicycle to navigating a delicate conversation with a friend. It also contains your assumptions and expectations, emotional residues of lived experience, models of relationships, values and inclinations, and the whole inner atmosphere of your mind. It’s like a vast storehouse holding most of your inner strengths as well as most of your feelings of inadequacy, unfulfilled longings, defensiveness, and old pain. What gets put into this storehouse is the foundation of how you feel and function. Its contents usually have much more impact on your life than the contents of your explicit memory.”

I’m not finished with this one, yet. I’ll definitely read it a couple of times, and I’m already practicing many of the simple practices it outlines. Some were so obvious the first time they were described I couldn’t believe it hadn’t just occurred to me…to everyone…like the simple enough idea that lingering mindfully in a pleasant moment, really enjoying that experience with awareness and not rushing through to the next thing, makes the positive experience more important in our own recollection, giving it greater weight in who we are and how we experience our life. Powerful. It seems pretty obvious after thinking it over, that the content of our mind and thoughts will color how we experience everything. (Right? Sure. Of course.) How is it I didn’t take the next step without help and understand that focusing on trauma, on negativity, on the chaos and damage, to the point of making it the focus of my consciousness…makes it the focus of my consciousness. O_0 Well, okay, that actually seems easy enough to do something with… so, I have been. I’ve been taking time to really enjoy the small pleasant moments in life with real awareness and appreciation, for many seconds, even minutes, and letting the delights of my life seep into all the moments I have. It’s been, predictably enough, as obvious a success as the ideas seemed obvious themselves.

How did this turn into a book report? It wasn’t intended to be. These are books that have made a real difference for me, though, bringing light to the darkness, and showing me some better ways of being. That’s a pretty big deal at 51, and looking back on some of what I have endured. Sharing it may be useful for someone else…although, perhaps if I’d been ready sooner, I’d have found my way here one way or another…

Today is a good day to make an effort to be who I most want to be. Today is a good effort to smile and share the journey. Today is a good day to change the world from within. Today is a good day.

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.

It seems a strange morning to write. My thoughts are incoherent and disorganized. Various ‘reasons’ I’m sure, though I don’t think it really requires an explanation, does it? I’m smiling and thinking how rarely an explanation changes an experience, however it may change my perspective.

I slept restlessly last night. I woke in a state of panic and dread at 1:42 am. I had no recollection of my dreams, and no awareness of any startling sounds or movement in my environment. I still occasionally have night terrors, and having crashed out around 10:30 pm, the timing is right. Knowledge offered no relief from the feelings, but it gave me leverage to use new skills to soothe myself, slow my heart rate, calm my breathing, settle my emotions, and eventually return to sleep. Meditation – the most powerful Rx I’ve ever been prescribed for a whole host of bullshit that challenges me.

The mysteries of the sleeping self are sometimes best left as mysteries.

After waking, dreams fade into the distance.

I woke abruptly, later, and still early (for a weekend day, when I could theoretically choose to ‘sleep in’). I woke shortly after 6:00 am, and feeling uneasy and vaguely pissed-off. I started the morning with more meditation, no agenda, no pressure, and from meditation I moved on to yoga; this gentle routine has become such a feature of my experience that I no longer plan it on my calendar, or set a reminder on my phone, or put a sticky note on my monitor. This slow unfolding of self in the morning is part of who I am now. It’s a nice change. By the time I got to the kitchen to pull a shot of espresso I felt calm, and content. It isn’t always that easy – honestly, the words make it sound ‘easier’ than it actually is. There is an implied commitment to practice, a commitment to self, a commitment to healing – and these require real effort, and a willingness to come back to the practice again and again, in the moment, and the will to face myself in the mirror of my minds-eye in a truly vulnerable and honest way, aware and still, inside myself. ‘Easy’ is not an accurate descriptor.

Practice. It's the practice that is the point; there is no 'mastery'.

Practice. It’s the practice that is the point; there is no ‘mastery’.

I still feel whatever is agitating me lurking in the background of my consciousness, an anxiety that comes and goes, as if it is preparing for some sneak attack, and checking regularly to see if I am still aware. (Personifying my issues isn’t something I take literally – or lightly – but I find that some of my issues are more easily faced when they have, well, faces. lol. 😉 ) I am hopeful that continued practice, presence in the moment, moving through my day mindfully and with great self-compassion will be enough to prevent some nasty attack on my equanimity by my demons. My analyst-brain urgently wants to pick at this sense of unease that returns now and then, to force it to give up its secrets, and tell me ‘why’, but it is a misleading temptation; giving in to it would likely result only in more pain and distress, because most likely there is no ‘why’ at all. Not in my here and now, at least, and perhaps not even in the remnants of last night’s dreams.

When I feel aware of the unease, this morning, I face it. I breathe. I feel myself relax. I move into the moment in a more present way. I take time for a few moments to be still, aware, to be compassionate and show myself kindness; I am human, these experiences of unease are uncomfortable, and result in more emotion on that blue end of the spectrum unless I slow down and take time to care for me. This morning, I have many small opportunities to practice emotional self-sufficiency. This morning life’s curriculum seems to be of the lab variety; hands on, and practicing. I’m okay with that; I expect willful change to require both choice and effort.

The map is not the world. Hell, the map isn't even the journey.

The map is not the world. Hell, the map isn’t even the journey.

Today is a good day to practice taking care of me. Today is a good day for compassion and for kindness. Today is a good day to build equanimity. Today is a good day to change the world.

I made a careful packing list before I departed for my weekend destination. I always use a list, it helps prevent me from forgetting something obvious.  This particular trip it was super handy – I didn’t forget anything I intended to bring along. Except the list. Yep. I carefully checked off each item, verified it’s location, and later departed quite prepared.

I didn’t bring the list itself along.

Strangely, this small omission which would have caused me very big stress a couple of years ago finds me untroubled today; it’s a small cottage, and I’ve carefully packed, checked drawers, shelves, cupboards, and corner tables, and it seems I’ve located each item that is mine, and packed it once again.  I could stay an eternity, I suspect. This small cottage quickly felt like ‘home’… I find myself wondering at that. Have I become ‘a turtle’, taking my sense of home everywhere with me, and easily settling in to new circumstances? That could be a very nice quality to have.

My wee home on the coast this weekend.

My wee home on the coast this weekend.

For now it is time to say farewell to my cottage at the beach and head home to suburbs and city, work and routine, life and love. I’m eager to return home to a less nomadic arrangement of my affairs and my experience, although I know I’ll miss meeting the dawn down on the shore for some yoga as the sun rises.

A last look, a moment to breathe the ocean air and hear the cries of seabirds, then the walk down to the cafe near the bus stop, to wait for my ride ‘back to the world’. This weekend has been emotionally productive, soothing, educational, and very worthwhile. Time well spent. There will be more to say, more to share, another day. This? This right here – this now – is still ‘my time’.

Best appreciated quietly.

Best appreciated quietly.

Words are powerful. What we say can change our experience. What we hear can change our understanding of the world.  Sometimes words seem insufficient. Sometimes words are so visceral as to become unspeakable. Sometimes sharing the words that describe our pain, our trauma, our suffering, or the horrors we fear in our darkest nights, is more than we can bear to do, however badly we need to hear those words aloud.

A lens, a mirror, a metaphor.

A lens, a mirror, a metaphor.

I went to my appointment yesterday. Words were spoken that I didn’t expect to hear in my own voice, maybe never in my lifetime. I did not know I had the will to speak them. The journey ahead of me is still a long one. I have come so far… there is so much farther to go.

Maybe words are just too much, even now. Letters are enough, more than enough: PTSD, MST, TBI. It’s still not ‘easy’ to talk about some things. It’s getting easier to accept the unspeakable, to give myself compassion, to take a moment to treat myself well.

I do have words for those along the journey who have offered directions, a light in the darkness, a moment of rest, or comfort; “thank you”.  If I’ve hurt you along the way, lashing out in fear and rage and grief without thought, I have words for you, too; “I’m sorry”.

If you are suffering, now, treading water in your unfathomable icy sea of pain and regret and hurt, or considering your own ‘final solution’ to the chaos and damage, just wanting a moment to rest, beyond caring about beginnings and ends, I have words for you, too. “Please.” (That’s the first of them.) “Please, be a survivor, not a victim; don’t let pride, shame or fear make you a statistic. Don’t let trauma win. Ask for help. Talk about it. Use your words. If you’ve got to go down, go down fighting – you matter.”

Ask for the help you need. If you can, you may find the healing you seek.

Dawn.

Dawn.