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The Art of Being

April 5, 2015 //
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I woke gently this morning. I woke slowly. My consciousness unfolded in a lovely way, without anxiety or stress, or residual negative emotions left over from unremembered nightmares. I woke feeling very little pain, minimal stiffness, and feeling comfortable in my body. I woke feeling beautiful, well, and pleasantly sensuous, enjoying the sensations of skin against sheets, blankets, pillows, and the softness of the morning air. No headache. Heart soaring. Feeling inspired and eager to face the blank canvas on my easel – and metaphorically, the blank canvas of my day, and my future. I woke loving, and feeling loved, in the quiet solitude of comfortable surroundings, content and aware that love does not require proximity outside my own self-imposed attachments.

I woke to a quiet household. I contentedly made my coffee, contemplating what things I might get done today, and feeling artistically inspired – today is a good day to paint, and I’ve got a number of concepts sketched out that I am ready to make come alive, even some new notions this morning that I am eager to sketch and get started on. It is, in nearly every respect, an ideal day to paint. Currently, there is simply no room to do so. The space set aside for me to work has filled with another project, which has stalled temporarily due to real life happening, in spite of plans. On some other day, this could result in a lot of suppressed resentment festering in the background, and find me feeling unimportant, lacking in value, not well-cared for, and not understood.  Today is different. Sure, it’s frustrating, and I earnestly want to live in an environment that truly supports me creatively, one in which ensuring I can paint when I am moved to paint, write when I am moved to write, listen to the music I love, sing, dance, and simply be this specific human that I am, is among the highest priorities of the household day-to-day.  As with so many things, there are verbs involved, choices to make, and I am my own cartographer on this journey.

I am working on getting into a live/work space that really meets the needs I have at this point in my life; choices are made, verbs are verb-ing in an appropriate order, and at a reasonable rate of progress. In the meantime, rather than blow a lovely day feeling creatively frustrated, I am feeling strong, feeling creative, and feeling joyful now, with what is.  It’s a lovely morning. My coffee is hot and tasty. I feel inspired – and I am not limited to canvas and brush; I have all these lovely words, and ideas, and broad blue skies, endless paths to walk beneath them. It is a lovely Sunday to rise from the wreckage of my chaos and damage, and practice the beautiful Art of Being.

The humble dandelion stands out in a crowd; her strength unmistakable, her beauty her own.

The humble dandelion stands out in a crowd; her strength obvious, her beauty her own; it is no concern of hers that some see her as ‘a weed’.

Today is a good day to bring order to small corners of chaos. Today is a good day for good practices, and good self-care. Today is a good day to treat me well, and enjoy who I already am. Today is a good day for sketching, and laundry, and photographing the very first roses in my garden. Today is a good day to be, and to become, and to celebrate personal rebirth. Today is a good day to practice the Art of Being.

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Categories art and the artist, Free Will, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Perspective, Relationships, Spring, The Art of Being, The Big 5, Words

Finding Balance, Facing Change

October 2, 2014 //
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Sometimes it is the smallest details that teach me so much, and so often some choice that is a win, or generally awesome, comes with some interesting opportunities to lose balance, or lose my way. I didn’t last night, and I so easily could have. [envision me, high-fiving myself, here] New practices making a difference.

Under the right conditions, growth happens.

Under the right conditions, growth happens.

Changes, even good ones, can be disruptive for me. I have a frontal lobe brain injury that gets in my way a bit. I build a lot on a handful of habits that ensure I take care of me, and take care of what I am responsible for, and changes sometimes disrupt those habits, and my emotional balance. I won’t add ‘unexpectedly’ because although it once was, it no longer is; I know the risk is there, these days, and I watch for the effects in my experience that are the byproduct of change, and make time to shore up good practices, and get re-balanced. Moving my creative endeavors to the loft doesn’t just provide me with active studio space… it also resulted in the household media and networking infrastructure being in ‘my room’…in a place regularly occupied by someone not wishing to be disturbed, and it was easy for my partners to anticipate that might be inconvenient at some future point – though like a generous child I said “I will share with you!” not understanding that it would inevitably lead to discord. Rather than wait for all that, a wiser choice was made – one that changes my environment, and some small routines. (Oops…changes small routines? Right. I’m on it! Autopilot switched off, and I’m compassionate with myself as small changes swirl around me, probably over days or weeks, and when things settle down I will have new routines to rely on in that space. )

…It will probably be months before I feel like I know how to use the stereo again. lol

It’s a lovely morning. My traveling partner stayed up late with new – and moved – technology; it’s ‘his thing’, and although I expected him to sleep in, he is moving about the house restlessly – he is excited by change, stimulated, and enjoys the fun of it. My generally-at-home partner is readying herself for another work day, and these are not changes that result in turmoil for her. Life and love feel… pleasant. I enjoy this. I don’t need exotic destinations, expensive goods, or exciting tales of adventure to be content, to be happy, to be loved… or to enjoy a quiet morning. Sufficiency. I like ‘enough’.

It’s such a lovely quiet morning I am already well beyond any effect of poor sleep last night, although I didn’t really find good sleep until sometime past 1:29 am, the last time I looked at the clock. My coffee is tasty and hot, and although I am in pain I already know this is the least of it today; I take a moment to reflect on that, and enjoy how little pain I am in right now.

I’m hopeful that the small changes, the ripple effect of taking on the loft as studio space, don’t result in some shit-tastic childish tantrum on another day… so far so good.  I recently read some fairly eye-opening material on child development, discussing toddlers and tantrums. Apparently frontal lobe development and function is a big deal for emotional balance and control; my TBI [frontal lobe] is a big deal in the area of emotional balance and resilience. Yeah. Ahem. [awkward moment with myself reading that and reflecting on what life might be like for the partners of a 51-year-old some-time ‘toddler’ with PTSD… it does not sound like fun to me]. I find myself very grateful that love makes me desirable enough to tolerate my bullshit – and I hope I work through the worst of it in some more or less permanent way before they decide I’m not!

So…a lovely morning. A hot coffee. A good hair day. A day to remember to take the recycling to the curb – and hey; I remembered without a note! (I call that a success!) Some time hanging out with my loves before the work day. Today is a very good day for this to be enough. 🙂

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Categories Brain Injury, Healthy Living, Love, Mindfulness, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, The Big 5

One Small Part of a Greater Whole

September 29, 2014 //
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There’s very little we human primates do that is truly isolated from the rest, so unique and strange as to be impossible to relate to or identify with, so much so that when we behave in a fashion that is ‘out of the ordinary’ within the context of our experience not only do our friends, loved ones, and every day associates notice, so do strangers. We are interdependent, inter-associated, and interacting with each other – even when we are alone, generally, unless we sit utterly silent, motionless, and disconnected from all technology as well…which doesn’t happen for many of us, or doesn’t happen often, certainly not by choice. (I suggest it might be healthier for our own being if we did step away more than once in a while to be truly alone, and free of distraction…)  What my point is, though, is that we see each other, even when we are not really watching, and when an individual in the herd, pack, band, tribe, or community deviates from recognized norms it is noticed.

Just sayin’. You are not invisible. People notice. They probably care – what they don’t have is a window into your experience. Opening up and being who you are, because it is who you are, can be a scary process – particularly if you’ve made your way in life by wearing a mask, telling a story, or hiding your truth.

Life and love, linked and entwined, they are what we make of them.

Life and love, linked and entwined, they are what we make of them. [TBA ‘untitled’ M.R.H. 2014]

I spent the weekend painting. In that respect my weekend was entirely and completely about me. It was quite lovely, filled with wonder, and I’m pleased with the new work. I’d leave it there, but I am a human primate, loving other human primates, and living in a family, a small band of friends, a community of people; there’s more to it than me. There’s always more to it than ‘me’. Saturday was lovely, easy, and felt natural and right pretty nearly end to end, and seemed so for all of us. Sunday less so. Other people, other choices, and there’s always room for more than one experience. I had a remarkable day painting, nonetheless, and enjoyed sharing time with my traveling partner, reading, hanging out, talking… it was lovely. My other partner was doing her own thing.

Yesterday had been planned differently; I planned to go hiking in the morning. The lovely Saturday evening, though, resulted in a request for a morning at home together, shared as a family. I happily changed my plans. Things went sideways early, and I’m pleased at how easy it has become for me to roll with changes; I like planning things, and function most comfortably when I have some loose idea of what’s to be expected. It is a powerful piece of growth, and marvelously powerful, to be so able to smile in the face of unwanted drama, change, and the randomness of life itself. There is so much less turmoil within, now.  I’m still not skilled at getting at the root of OPD and making the changes I need to, to ensure I can easily and with great contentment avoid being sucked into someone else’s drama. I can’t – and don’t want to – control someone else’s experience, choices, values or behavior; I have all the control in the world over my own. Choices.

For me The Big 5 really matter. Respect, and Consideration are huge. Openness is non-negotiable. Compassion and Reciprocity are essential to treating others, and myself, truly well. Nothing short of treating myself well, making choices that meet my needs over time, and treating others in accordance with my own Big 5 – as a minimum standard of decency for me – is acceptable at all these days. I am building my own experience on principles of mindfulness, perspective, and sufficiency, sure – but it’s my Big 5 on which I build my relationships with others, and what I require from others to build one with me.

What we build, what we destroy, are made of our own choices in life and in love.

What we build, what we destroy, are made of our own choices in life and in love.  [TBA ‘untitled’ M.R.H. 2014]

It’s a quiet chill Monday morning. My coffee is hot, and the tone of the morning is gentle. My traveling partner is up early, and I’ll enjoy the time I share with him, before heading to the office for a very different experience – one that I still base on my Big 5, because it’s a good way to treat others, and to be treated myself.

Today is a good day for choices that meet my needs over time. Today is a good day to stand on my strengths as a being, and as a woman. Today is a good day to smile and enjoy the small delights that are always there in the moment. Today is a good day to appreciate any connection I enjoy with another; our connections are what it is all about. Today is a good day to change the world.

"Namaste" 8" x 10" acrylic on canvas. 2014 It's about the intention as much as the words.

“Namaste” 8″ x 10″ acrylic on canvas. 2014 It’s about the intention as much as the words.

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Categories autumn, Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Love, Mindfulness, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, The Big 5, women, Words

This One’s for Me

September 28, 2014 //
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This weekend I’m taking time with me, doing something I love, and enjoying the sensation of time slowing down as I linger over what feels good in life. I’m in the studio this weekend, between other bits of this-n-that, laundry, time with family and friends, yoga… All of it quite pleasant and wonderfully positive and enjoyable; the outcome is in the art work. I had planned to hike this morning, and even looking forward to it at the very moment that first one, then the other, of my partners spoke up that they would each, and both, enjoy a morning with family, hanging out and being in shared space. I still smile thinking about that moment; I felt very wanted, included, and valued.

It didn’t hurt that of the paintings I did yesterday, 3 of 5 of them are already spoken for by enthused and delighted partners. I can’t describe how wonderful that feels, every time it comes up. It takes being appreciated to another level. 🙂

"Where There's Smoke" 8" x 10" acrylic on canvas with India ink; it's hers. :-)

“Where There’s Smoke” 8″ x 10″ acrylic on canvas with India ink; it’s hers. 🙂

"You Always Have My Heart" 8" x 10" acrylic on canvas with glow; it's his. :-)

“You Always Have My Heart” 8″ x 10″ acrylic on canvas with glow; it’s his. 🙂

I’m not disappointed about not hiking; I’ll likely still go for a walk with my camera, or stroll over to the Farmer’s Market. It’s a lovely day for all those things.

"Summer Breeze" 8" x 10" acrylic on canvas with India Ink; it's his. :-)

“Summer Breeze” 8″ x 10″ acrylic on canvas with India Ink; it’s his. 🙂

The weekend has offered some moments of amazement, wonder, and great depth. In meditation, deeply involved, aware, and present in some moment I “walked the streets of The Nightmare City” by daylight, feeling safe and walking in wonder and observing all I could before twilight could over take me.  Imagination? Fantasy? Scripting? I don’t know those things. I recognize it is not the same order of ‘real’ as being awake, here-and-now, and able to touch what I see…only…it still matters, because thoughts matter, and what we fill our implicit memory with matters, and emotional content matters, too. Later today I’ll spend time writing a bit about my visit, as though it were something others could book a trip for, and get there, stay and visit for themselves.  I am hopeful that my own next visit to The Nightmare City is very different that my last, and even perhaps willing to allow the thought that it may truly have been my last visit to drift through my consciousness without clinging to it in despair and anxious yearning.

"Daytime in the Nightmare City" 8" x 10" acrylic on canvas with glow, glitter, and micaceous iron oxide. 2014

“Daytime in the Nightmare City” 8″ x 10″ acrylic on canvas with glow, glitter, and micaceous iron oxide. 2014

Today is a good day for love, for lovers, for sharing the morning and for enjoying a lazy Sunday. Today is a good day to move beyond words. Today is a good day to smile. Today is a good day to face my fears fearlessly; in most cases I invented them both, myself, and can as easily let them go. Today is a good day to contribute only love to the world’s conversations. Today is a good day to change the world.

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Categories Allegories, Art, art and the artist, autumn, Brain Injury, Free Will, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Parables, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Words

Let the Evidence Show

September 15, 2014 //
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My mind is a little slow this morning, and still catching up to my body. I’m awake, but my routine is thrown a bit off by challenges with falling asleep last night; it ended up a short night, and I’m groggy this morning. I’ve made a quad espresso which I’ve rather unceremoniously dumped over a tall glass of ice.

After meditation, and yoga, and before I got to this point here, sitting in front of the keyboard, I took time to give myself a manicure. It was necessary because it is Monday and my hands were just…awful. Paint still under my fingernails and one of my nails broken at a jagged angle – how did I not notice that? I couldn’t go to work with my hands looking like that, it would have eventually launched old nail-biting habits. I find doing my nails very relaxing, and it requires a certain mindfulness to do well. I don’t mind going to work bearing evidence of being an artist…but the colors didn’t go with my sweater. 😉

What follows are some words about domestic violence, which are relevant to my own history. It’s not graphic, but it only seems fair to mention this is the direction my words have gone this morning.

"The Tracks of My Tears" 12" x 20" acrylic on canvas w/glow and googly eyes.

“The Tracks of My Tears” 12″ x 20″ acrylic on canvas w/glow and googly eyes. 2014

When I was much younger, welcoming my partner home was fraught with terror, anxiety, panic and dread; I spent every moment I could combing our residence for any evidence of ‘wrong doing’ that might get my violent partner’s attention, and cleaning frantically right up until I heard footsteps approaching the door.  All these years later, I still find some urge lurking in the background to check everywhere/everything looking for stuff to ‘fix’ before my partners return home.  I am a survivor of domestic violence. I wept reading so many recent #whyIstayed tweets online, and news articles as the nation finally seems to wake up to what a big issue domestic violence actually is. Healthy tears. I survived. I got out. I waited ‘too long’ and my psyche bears the scars for that choice.  Although some portion of my PTSD is military in nature, by far the vast majority of it is related to relationship violence, and sexual trauma; domestic living with other human beings, for me, is a veritable minefield of triggers.

There’s no substitute for getting out of a dangerous or toxic relationship. There is more often than not no resolution for domestic violence other than getting the hell away from the violent person. Human beings can change, and they do, but the stark and frightening truth is that it isn’t likely to happen in the context of the already violent relationship that exists. Having said all that, I have found that mindfulness practices make healing and getting from surviving to thriving much more likely. It hasn’t been an easy journey, and I’m not across the finish line yet; I may spend a lifetime repairing the damage domestic violence has done to my heart, my spirit, my cognition, my comfort with others, my feeling of safety in my home and my relationships, and my willingness to tolerate specific words, phrases, gestures, or circumstances. It can’t be easy on people who choose to live with me.

If you are struggling with domestic violence and reading these words, please, take care of you. Whatever that takes. You matter. Don’t tolerate poor treatment, you deserve better. It is safer to walk away than to stay.

If you are violent, and acting out physically on a partner (or really, any other human being) because you feel ‘provoked’ or ‘entitled to’ or ‘because they…’ – the world is sick of your bullshit. Please stop. It’s not okay and you have no right to lash out at another human being in anger with physical force. Ever. At all. No provocation justifies domestic violence. Not anything. Not ever. Not at all. Please get help; you are the bad guy. Please stop hurting people. You have no right. It’s not okay. (Strangely, I find it hard to imagine anyone who is violent being a regular reader…but…there’s a lot in the world I just don’t know, or cannot fathom.)

I got out. I survived. I moved on to other not-so-bad relationships, and eventually to a really good one. I made choices. We have choices. There are always choices. Making them isn’t easy, but making choices matters. Choice is where our power lies.

"Awareness" 8" x 10" acrylic on canvas w/glow. 2014

“Awareness” 8″ x 10″ acrylic on canvas w/glow. 2014

Today is a good day to choose change. Today is a good day to respect ones self. Today is a good day to take care of me. Today is a good day to change the world.

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Categories Anxiety, Art, art and the artist, Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Love, Mindfulness, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, women
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