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Oversleeping, Again

August 22, 2014 //
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Wow. What an amazing thing progress and growth can be. I overslept. Again. It’s not a big deal; I get up much earlier than my work schedule requires, carving out some time for me from among the quiet hours before dawn. No panic. No stress. No sky-rocketing blood pressure as I try to race through the essentials of the morning routine to ensure I still arrive at work on time. None of that. My lovely at-home partner called at a merry “Good morning!” as she headed down the hall. I woke, with a laugh and a groggy good morning back. I assumed I had forgotten my alarm. I simply went ahead and got up, taking the smile that remained of the laugh right along with me. It’s a lovely morning.

I’m appreciate of the additional sleep; I struggle with sleep disorders and insomnia. Beyond that, I appreciate how far I’ve come that a bit over oversleeping no longer launches me into overdrive, creating a level of panic and stress that will ride my ass hard all day long and leave me exhausted on the other side, cross, resentful, and generally with a nasty headache, and a worse temper.  It was my traveling partner who suggested (years ago) that I slow things down in the morning to eliminate that concern. I didn’t really buy into it at the time, but gave it a shot. It helped right away, and has been my practice ever since – but this? This morning right here? This is a real victory, because I am relaxed, still enjoying my morning, still taking care of me. Even if I choose to go into work a little later as a result, this works because I feel content, balanced, and rested. The value of rest, in my experience, can’t be overstated.

I’ve overslept twice in a month, though. It’s incredibly rare, and doesn’t feel ‘like me’. The last time was pure exhaustion, as I recall, and a short night. This morning I woke feeling sure I must have forgotten to set the alarm, but looking at it now I see that is not the case. This is how my wee alarm clock lets me know a battery change is due. Usually, that happens when I’m already awake, and simply notice it isn’t going off at the time it should be, when that time comes, and I’m sitting here noticing both the time and the lack of beeping. lol

A lesson learned, a successful application of new skills, a lovely day.

Yesterday was a lovely day, too.

Yesterday I felt restless all afternoon, my consciousness racing ahead of the moment eagerly wanting to get home to… paint.  I have already ‘moved in’ to the loft with my paints, canvas, easel, pens, paper, and inspiration. This is my first living arrangement with full-time painting space, and I spent a portion of the evening painting after work. It was lovely to just go to my easel, and have everything at the ready. The satisfaction and delight in being able to simply pick up a brush, and paint, and walk away to do something else without 2 hours of tearing it all down and cleaning up to ‘get the mess out of the way’ is indescribable. My partner seemed pleased that I chose to paint, and got some pictures and video. The whole thing feels like joy and wonder and… ‘just right’. I neglected my needs in this area far too long. I chose, again and again, move after move, relationship after relationship, to compromise on creative space such that I just didn’t have any. I made it my lowest priority. I made me my lowest priority. Fuck, it’s no wonder I’ve spent so much time mired in chaos and damage; I didn’t take the time I needed to work on it. I didn’t make my needs a non-negotiable priority for myself.

Even at 51, it’s never too late for a course correction, for a change of heart, for a new way. It’s never too late to choose to treat myself well.

Like summer flowers, our opportunities are not forever; like gardening, our efforts make room for more opportunities.

Like summer flowers, our opportunities are not forever; like gardening, our efforts make room for more opportunities.

This has been a wonderful week. I’ve enjoyed the closeness with my at-home partner. I miss my traveling partner, and I’m eager to welcome him home this weekend, for some longer time. Right now, in this moment, I feel content, I feel loved, and I feel supported and nurtured. It’s lovely. It may not last forever – in fact, based on experience, it likely won’t – but this is my experience now, and now is very good.  Now is enough.

“Enough”? Enough, indeed. I even have enough time this morning. I overslept, and still have enough time for an iced coffee, meditation, yoga, all the usual hygiene and grooming stuff…enough time for gratitude, enough time for love.

There's always time enough for love.

There’s always time enough for love.

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Categories Art, art and the artist, Brain Injury, Free Will, gardening, Healthy Living, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, Summer

Inspiration

August 7, 2014 //
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I personally find feeling ‘inspired’ to be a strange state that is neither cause nor effect in any clear and specific way. Sometimes I am inspired by something…which seems an effect, obviously, but I’m not always certain what inspired me. Other times, although I feel inspired I don’t act on it, and it causes nothing, existing merely as a state of being, or sensation. I’m often deeply inspired. I write. I paint. I take photographs. I craft small sculptures. I organize objects in space in a visually pleasing (to me) way. I build and craft things. I am a creative being. I consider myself an artist, and a writer. I write and take pictures pretty nearly every day that I am awake… painting is different. I am often moved to paint, but I only follow through when I have the physical space to work in comfortably, the time to set up and tear down and clean up afterward (having no permanent studio space), and exist in the context of an emotional experience that feels consistent with the inspiration driving my desire to paint; it’s that last one that makes or breaks whether I paint. That last one is as non-negotiable as breathing, and is less a choice of will than a limitation in ability.

Inspiration takes so many forms... flowers...

Inspiration takes so many forms… flowers…

---landscapes...

…landscapes…

...a quality of light...

…a quality of light…

...a metaphor...

…a metaphor…

...an emotion.

…an emotion.

This weekend I am painting. I’m excited about it, and my consciousness is saturated with inspiration – paintings and ideas that have been lurking in the shadows waiting their turn, queue up with exciting new ideas that arose in the hours since it became a certainty that I’d have the time and space to paint in solitude. At least for now, solitude is the only assurance of having that elusive emotional context within which I paint.

I’ve got inspiration…images…canvas…paint…time…space… and no idea of what will have come of it, when I shake off the drop cloths, fold them up, put away the paint and brushes, and acknowledge that the weekend has ended.  I know I am excited, now. I enjoy the feeling of anticipation, and the internal pressure of increasing inspiration, ideas on ideas, and the fun of making quick notes – not wanting to let a moment of further inspiration ‘get away’.

This will be my first serious exploration of mindfulness, perspective, and sufficiency in my work as a painter. I don’t know what it means to make that observation, and I don’t know what it will mean for my art. I haven’t done much painting living in this particular location, a mere handful of paintings over almost 3 years, and my last productive opportunity to paint was before I got to where I am, now, as a person. I am approaching the weekend with a beginner’s mind, and wide-eyed wonder. What will come of this? I guess I’ll know on Sunday. 🙂

There's always time for a moment of wonder.

There’s always time for a moment of wonder.

Today is a good day to try something new. Today is a good day to be eager, to be delighted, and to share the moment. Today is a good day for art, a good day for journeys, and a good day to love. Today is a good day to change the world.

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Categories Art, art and the artist, Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Roses, Summer

Less and More

August 6, 2014 //
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I’m groggy this morning, and fighting fatigue and arthritis pain. Well, not ‘fighting’ them, so much as acknowledging and accepting them, doing what I can to improve the situation, and moving on. Yesterday was one of those busy sorts of days that pushes the limits of endurance, and skill, and ends with a feeling of profound satisfaction in job well done, which was awesome. This morning, however, I am groggy. I was so tired after work yesterday I crashed much earlier than usual. After a couple of hours of deep sleep, I spent the night waking more or less hourly in response to my brain tossing work-related questions at me all night, which I dutifully woke myself to answer, before returning to sleep. It was not the most restful night of sleep I’ve ever had, and waking to the infernal beeping of the alarm, which rarely happens, isn’t a pleasant experience for me.

I feel ‘behind’ on everything this morning. My consciousness feels fuzzy and somehow always arriving late for the moment I’m in. There’s not a lot to say about this state of being. It is what it is. It will pass. It is relevant but unimportant. It’s ‘weather’, not ‘climate’.

Yoga, meditation, a shower, espresso, correspondence, Facebook… and now, a few moments, a few words, the rhythmic sound of fingers on keys; a new day begins.

I have no keen observations on my very human experience this morning…only observations of the most mundane sort: my room is untidy, in spite of my love of order, and this is telling. I tend to descend into disorder under stress. My hands are not as neatly manicured as usual, and I’ve bitten my pinky nails down to the quick; this also tends to be limited to times of stress. In the past 10 days, I’ve had two headaches that felt like transient ischemic attacks, which I had fairly regularly for many years, but which I’d not been having for a long while (about 4 years, I think). I associate that experience with stress, too, although it could perhaps be something else altogether.  Interestingly, I don’t feel – emotionally – as if I am under a lot of stress.

A moment of stillness can change so much.

A moment of stillness can change so much.

I take time to meditate a few more minutes, and return to writing feeling calm and content and soothed. Keeping an eye on stress matters. It’s not generally necessary to exist under that amount of stress; I have choices I can make to alleviate a lot of it. It helps to know where it is coming from. In this case? Work. Yep. Simply that.  I experience some internal conflict over it, because on the one hand – it’s amazing work, I’m good at it, and I’m valued… but feel some performance pressure, nonetheless, to really ‘wow’ the company I work for.  Pretty common, I’m sure. On the other hand? Well, frankly… I don’t place a high value on being an employee, on ‘gainful employment’, or on ‘having a job’, because these are not experiences that define me as a human being. There is so much more to me than work! I’d happily retire this very moment, if I were financially prepared to sustain a simple life of sufficiency for the 30-60 more years I might be around. I’m not, so I can’t… the stress I’m experiencing comes from being aware of how little I actually ‘care about’ work, in the face of how much pressure there is to do it very well right at the moment. Quite a balancing act.  I find myself surprised every time I meet someone who claims to really want to be employed. I’ve been working on figuring out how to be retired since I was about… 18. I have stuff I’d like to do, and so little time for me…

My at home partner becomes a traveling partner tomorrow.  I’m sure I’ll miss her.  There’s a small amount of stress there, too… both partners away for days means a weekend of painting, and I’m so excited about that time for myself, that I have the sense of it being ‘inappropriate’ or somehow unkind. Silliness, and I recognize it as such, but there it is. I am so very human.

I take another moment or two more for meditation, self-compassion, loving kindness, and awareness of how good it feels to have this time to meet such an important need for myself. Content solitude is a precious gift of love, and I’m eager to honor it, savor it, and take advantage of it creatively.

Awareness and presence need no excuse, but do require practice.

Awareness and presence need no excuse, but do require practice.

Today is a good day to be who I am. Today is a good day to be considerate of myself, and others. Today is a good day to celebrate small successes, small victories, and everyday joy. Today is a good day to appreciate that we’re all experiencing our own pain, and to be mindful that a moment of compassion can make a big difference in the world. Today is a good day to be gracious, and to be generous. Today is a good day to change the world.

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Categories Anxiety, art and the artist, Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, The Big 5, Words

Pop Quiz in the School of Life

August 5, 2014 //
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Yesterday feels very far away from this morning. For me personally, it was eventful and busy. For the world, filled with turmoil, conflict, confusion, suffering…and not much more if you rely on the news for your information. Babies were born, though, and are loved. People find each other, connect, experience passion, romance, and love each other. The vast quantity of human knowledge grew a little more, although it’s hardly going to make a dent in the even more vast quantity of knowledge we don’t yet  have. There was sunshine, and storms, rain and breezes; there was weather. Some people shared what they have. Others guarded their assets closely. Sick people were cared for, and the dead were mourned. The living thrived in various degrees, struggled, faced challenges, grew as individuals, made choices great and small. It was a day, and it is behind me now, in the past.

We exist in the context of our experience.

We exist in the context of our experience.

Funny how our choices and experiences build our future out of that past bit we’ve already had. We’ve got right now, if we need to make still  more choices, tweak things a bit, or reach for some desirable moment or object on the horizon. My yesterday has a ripple effect well into the days ahead, that much I can see and is very real to me. What about days further out? Or years? Those, too, may be affected by yesterday, but when I get there will I have any awareness of the moment of yesterday that I’m standing on?

My traveling partner is heading to a festival next weekend. My at home partner is taking advantage of an exciting opportunity to join him there, and have an experience. I am excited for her; it will be a very new experience. I’m happy for him to enjoy the companionship of a loved one at the event. I am not suffering, because the ripple effect washes over my own experience most pleasantly; I will have an uninterrupted weekend to paint. It’s a rare treat, and already a stack of new canvas waits for me, and I am immersed in inspiration, and eager to begin work. It’s still days away. Days of delightful anticipation, and planning, and considering the moment to come with great joy. (I hope my partners have even half as much joy and wonder in their weekend experience as I get from painting.)

The artist within is already hard at work.

The artist within is already hard at work.

These days of planning are important for me. Taking care of me, and being self-sufficient as an artist with a brain injury, means taking steps to ensure I do stop painting to eat, care for myself, and handle daily chores (like feeding the pets and attending to their needs).  Without some structure, I lose myself in inspiration and put my health, sometimes my safety, at risk. (I once filled my apartment with smoke and almost asphyxiated myself while doing sketches and watercolors of… smoke; a neighbor broke in on my reverie, and possibly saved my life.) So, the next day or two is about supportive infrastructure – alarms, reminders, notes to myself stuck here and there, little attention-getters to ensure I eat, sleep, and take care of what must be done, so I can be free to paint. For days. I’m very excited.

I can be amusingly impractical. My at home partner is eager for my needs to be met by this change of plans, herself, and excitedly pointed out that I’d have the car all weekend. I felt puzzled about the relevance of that, and it was not until this morning, in the shower, that I realized that although I know I am not likely to go anywhere while I’m painting, that may not be obvious to anyone else. lol Perspective isn’t just helpful, some things are not understood without it.

Balancing the practical and the emotional is part of the ongoing experience of studying perspective, of being mindful, and of understanding sufficiency.

Each moment, each experience, utterly unique, and entirely our own making. Choose wisely.

Each moment, each experience, utterly unique, and entirely our own making. Perspective matters. 

Today is a good day to be a student. Today is a good day to consider choices, and choose wisely. Today is a good day to treat myself well, and kindly, and show the world similar care and good treatment. Today is a good day to move softly through shared space. Today is a good day to consider how I can help ease someone else’s burden, even if for only a moment. Today is a good day to change the world.

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Categories art and the artist, Brain Injury, Healthy Living, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Summer, The Big 5, women, Words
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