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How Do I Get There?

June 22, 2024 //
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Before I can ever answer the question “how do I get there?”, I guess it’s necessary to have some understanding of where it is I am wanting to go…

Beginning again starts… somewhere.

Yesterday was a very nice day, marred only slightly by a too-common moment of discord that seems, now, both completely unnecessary and also entirely human. I breathe, exhale, and let that go; there is no need to let it define the day.

I was on the trail this morning shortly after daybreak. I had the trail to myself. I enjoy the quiet time spent with my own thoughts. These morning walks and meditative interludes along a quiet trail are keeping me sane. Mostly. I would do well to do more, better, with regard to my self-care, and I am aware of it. I sigh and file that thought under “I’m doing the best I can” and promise myself to give it more thought another time.

Today I’ll begin the work of moving things around in the house to accommodate my Traveling Partner’s son for some little while. I’m simultaneously eager to be helpful with getting him a good start in the community here, and also saddened to be giving up my wee library (and meditation space) and having to compress my art studio to become my “everything space”. It’s the only way to comfortably make room for a third adult human being. I have no objection to making the necessary changes… I just worry a bit that they won’t be as temporary as discussed going into it, and I’m going to have to be diligent about my self-care and making a point to get the time I need away from people. It’s probably going to be a bit more difficult in some ways, but probably easier in others.

… There’s definitely a bunch of manual labor involved in these changes, and I will need to manage my time and energy with care…

I sit with my thoughts awhile, at the halfway point of my walk. I’ve got a few things on my mind and most of those center on how I can most successfully reduce my day-to-day stress, and also how to develop more resistance to being provoked into anger or anxiety. I’m not as resilient as I am able to be when I live alone, and there are a great many triggers in my environment. Adding another person to my living situation doesn’t make things easier. Once my PTSD flares up, it can be very difficult to regain perspective and emotional balance. I’d very much like to improve that situation and enjoy more lasting calm and contentment, and realistically can’t count on anyone else to “make that easy”. The verbs and practices are mine. My results vary.

… Humans are going to be human…

… We’re each having our own experience…

I breathe, exhale, and relax, aware for a moment that there are no notifications buzzing my arm; I’m wearing a watch, instead of a connected wearable device tracking my every action and pinging me with reminders. It’s quite nice. I even remembered to take my morning medication without any of that. I smile when I recall that my Traveling Partner picked this watch with me in mind. I like it very much.

Another reminder that I am loved.

The sun is well up in the morning sky. Looks like another hot summer day ahead. My step son messages me that he’s on the way to pick up the U-haul truck for his move. Events are in motion. Change is. There’s much to do. It’s already time to begin again…

I breathe, exhale, and relax, and prepare to head back up the trail.

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, Art, art and the artist, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being

What Matters Most?

April 28, 2024 //
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It’s hard to care about progress toward goals with tears pouring down. It’s hard to celebrate a joyful moment in the midst of angry criticism (however legitimate or well-intentioned). It’s hard to care about anything, and for the moment, I’m mired in this experience of deep sorrow and dread. I’m “shook”. I’m triggered. I’m grievously stressed out – by the person in my life who cares for me most, and who I hold most dear, myself.

…It’s just a moment…

…Breathe, exhale… begin again…

I tell myself the things I know I need to hear. I work towards perspective – and forgiveness – and I just… still hurt. I’m still crying. It’s still fresh.

I 100% absolutely unequivocally without exception completely and entirely loathe being yelled at. I don’t respond to it well at all. Maybe it doesn’t rise to the level of someone else’s idea of yelling? Perhaps it doesn’t, but I don’t do well with the escalated hostile angry confrontational tone to something that could have been handled with kindness, humor, and love, and treated as a human moment. Was it a big deal? Not for me to decide. Clearly it was a big enough deal for my Traveling Partner to lash out at me in the way that he did.

…It’s just a moment…

He’ll probably move past it far sooner than I will be able to. I hope he does, I don’t honestly want him also hurting over it, and I’d rather see him happy and okay with himself and with life, generally. I want that for both of us. Right now… I’m alone with my tears. At some point, I’ll probably be okay, and more easily able to nurture myself, and offer him kind words and put things right somehow.

(This wasn’t “a big deal”, and there’s nothing to see here, no violence, no trauma, just expressions of temper and frustration and angry words, and emotions, and it’s unpleasant and I’m unhappy, but these experiences are also part of the human experience – we’re not perfect creatures capable of full-time rationalism uncomplicated by our feelings, ever. We are creatures of emotion and reason – and emotion always arrives to the party first.)

detail of “Emotion and Reason”, acrylic on canvas with glow and ceramic details. 2011.

I breathe, exhale, and feel the throbbing of my headache, reliably worsened by the stressful moment. I didn’t sleep well last night, and although we were making light of that earlier in the day, it’s no laughing matter right now. The lack of rest has consequences for my emotional regulation. So… I’m alone with myself; the only person I know fully capable of accepting me as I am right now, and dealing with it without making it worse. (Which is a sign of real growth, and I take a moment to appreciate it that I can “be here for myself” in a way I simply couldn’t have 10 years ago.)

Fucking hell. What a shit show. People fucking suck… every one of us. So fucking human. Sometimes that really just sucks all the balls. My nerves are raw, and my emotions are in chaos. It’s a shitty place to be.

…I sit awhile “listening” to my tinnitus. It’s louder, too. It hisses and chimes and rings and buzzes in my ears while my head throbs and my heart pounds. Tears well up. My nose runs. I try not to make shit just that little bit worse by anticipating a shitty day tomorrow as a result of this shitty moment right here… tomorrow will be a new day. A new beginning. A reliable chance to reset and make choices in favor of a different experience. I’ll go to work. The routine will feel comfortable – and comforting. I remind myself this too will pass…

I take a moment for gratitude. It’s been such a lovely weekend. Rainy, mostly, but blue skies now; the sun came out at midday, and there’s a pleasant Spring breeze blowing. I got the things done I most needed to, and that I’d committed to doing. There’s still some laundry to fold, but I haven’t had to push a bunch of stuff off to another day. All of that matters, even if this moment seems to diminish it.

…I feel sad, though. As is so often the case, I was in such a lovely mood when shit went sideways. I suppose that’s likely to be the perspective any time shit does go sideways, eh? It’s probably going to feel as if “everything” has suddenly turned from golden joy and delight to … shit. I wonder how accurate that ever actually is? Was it just an ordinary moment that now seems vastly better than it was, because the moment that followed was just that bad? I think about that for a moment, and consider the nature of “perspective” and how subjective that can actually be.

The tears well up all over again, and I find myself feeling profound self-doubt about whether there’s even any value in hitting “publish” on this – whenever I finally stop writing. A missive of pain… seems… somehow tedious, or selfish, or pointless, or… just somehow lacking. I feel anhedonia lurking in the shadows, waiting for a moment of unsuspecting vulnerability to let that shit creep over me like clingwrap, smothering me in ennui and sadness and that horrible sense of grim futility I know so well… Not at all what I want for myself. That shit is a terrible way to treat oneself. I sigh quietly, resigned to the struggle – and the headache – and wondering how the evening ahead will unfold. For the moment, I don’t feel welcome in my home, nor even in my life. Just… sad and out of place. Like… a familiar stranger.

…There’s still laundry to fold. A partner to forgive. A moment to move on from. Water to get started drinking (you know, because of all the fucking crying). Like it or not, the way out is through, and I’d better get started… I’ve got to begin again somehow. This time, it’ll need some real work – and I know my results may vary. I’ll just start with stepping through it as a process, and trust that the process will… work.

…I miss the wise women of my lifetime… my Granny. My mother. Most particularly my recently departed dear friend. I feel so… lonely, right now. Thanks for listening, if you bothered to get this far. I appreciate it. I’m sure I’ll be fine, I’m just hurting at this moment, right here… and it’ll pass. Moments are quite fleeting. You’re welcome to share your thoughts – perhaps your perspective will help. No expectations, just saying; I do read the comments.

G’damn this headache, though…

…Something, something… “begin again”… it sounds empty just at the moment, but I know the truth of it… so I’ll just get started on that… What else would I do?

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Categories Allegories, anger, anhedonia, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, grief, Logic & Reason, loneliness, Love, meditation, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, Spring, The Art of Being, The Big 5, women

Words Matter

March 26, 2024 //
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I’m sipping my coffee and thinking about words.

Specifically, I’m thinking about the sloppy way headlines or thumbnail titles are often written, misusing words like “and” or “but” – they aren’t really interchangeable, generally. Same with words like “how” and “why” – these are not synonyms and have very different meanings in a statement or in a question. Headlines that profess to tell “why” something is happening, or matters to the viewer (or reader), for articles which actually only describe that it is happening and maybe how it is happening are distinctly (and irritatingly) misleading. Don’t get me started on headlines that use words to attempt to force the reader (or viewer) into making a shared assumption about something without ever actually proving that it is so. Damn I hate that shit. An example might be “Learn why doctors won’t prescribe this drug!”, for an article that never gives an answer to the question “Why won’t doctor’s prescribe this drug?” and also doesn’t actually support the (often completely bullshit) assumption that this is even the reality of the situation in the first place. It’s super common. “Clickbait” headlines are often rife with misleading nonsense assumptions and unanswered implied questions. Read with care. Think your own thoughts. Have your own (well-informed, supported by reality) opinions. Don’t take the bait.

…I have no idea why this is on my mind this morning, but it has been since I got in the car and headed into the city…

I sigh quietly to myself and sip my coffee. There’s nothing I can do about bad writing habits besides complain about them pedantically (in spite of my own bad writing habits), and since that achieves nothing aside from mild amusement (maybe), I guess I’ll just let it go. There are other ways to spend my time, and other things to think about. lol “…a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.” 😉

Yesterday evening was a “short one”, in the sense that the commute home was unexpectedly long (thanks, Union Pacific!) due to a train parked across multiple intersections in the downtown area, blocking traffic at rush hour. I was pretty well stuck where I was until the train moved, and then I was in the thick of rush hour traffic (which I usually miss by timing my departure such that I’m not in the middle of the worst of rush hour traffic). I grabbed cheap cheeseburgers on the way home, instead of cooking a meal (as had been my plan). I was tired – so tired – when I got home that the evening is mostly a blur.

I went to bed more or less at my usual time, but failed to lay out clothes for the morning, forgot that there was a planned internet maintenance outage last night that would affect my alarm, sort of “overslept” in the sense that I woke up precisely on time instead of early (I think a noise woke me?)… forgot to put my wearable on… left the house still half-asleep and if not actually groggy, for sure fucking stupid as hell. Confused. Strangely, I got to the office feeling awake, alert, and well-rested. I feel content, calm, and relaxed. It seems a good morning. My planned workload for today is something I enjoy, and which will occupy my time most of the time quite pleasantly. A good Tuesday.

Daybreak evolved into morning some time ago, though I’m not sure “where the time went” – no watch on my arm, but how can that even have anything to do with my “sense of time and timing”? It seems irrelevant. What a weird morning.

“Words matter.” I mean, yeah, generally… but maybe not these words, eh? Just some random nonsense, spilling out of a mind that woke strangely into a new day… and I’m being kind to say so. LOL Not my best work and yet here you are! Thank you for that. I appreciate you. I guess the point is simply to move on, be in the moment, present, here for it, and doing my best. If things go sideways, I can begin again. 😀

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Practices, Spring, The Art of Being

We Become What We Practice

December 26, 2022 //
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I am sipping my morning coffee (it’s good). It is the morning after Giftmas (it was lovely). Our holiday dinner was delicious (and ample). I am feeling fortunate (and grateful).

I slept better last night than I really expected to. My guts were churned up, rebelling against a “brunch” entirely of chocolate and coffee yesterday, followed by a heavy fairly rich meal at dinner time. I woke a couple times feeling a bit uncomfortable, not quite unwell. It passed. I even slept in a bit, and woke feeling pretty good generally, although aware of my arthritis in the background, and still bruised here and there from my fall on the deck on Giftmas Eve.

I haven’t made a firm plan for today. I probably ought to go to the grocery store… I’m not sure I feel like going out at all. I’m also not sure I don’t. Coffee first. Maybe some time reading by the fire? I am thinking about The Four Agreements. It was first suggested to me by my Traveling Partner. It’s clear that the recollection of them still exist in his thinking. Occasionally, he “calls me out” when I fail to practice one of them in our interactions together. I try to process such things as useful feedback, rather than kick up a fuss about it.

I’ve gotten a lot of really useful practical wholesome insight from The Four Agreements over the years, since I first read it in… 2010?

We have learned to live our lives trying to satisfy other people’s demands. We have learned to live by other people’s points of view because of the fear of not being accepted and of not being good enough for someone else.

Don Miquel Ruiz, The Four Agreements

Here’s the simple truth of everything we learn, and everything we do; we become what we practice.

Practice being calm? We become calm individuals over time. Practice being kind? Kindness becomes a hallmark of our decisions and thinking. Practice lifelong learning? We become educated as we gain knowledge. It is seriously that “simple” to change who we are, if we choose to do so – it’s a matter of practice, and time.

…Here’s the thing, though…

If we practice being angry? We become less able to manage anger appropriately (we become angrier more easily, more often). If we practice aggression? We become more aggressive. If we practice lashing out at others in moments of stress? Yep. You’re catching on; we do more of that, more often, more quickly – we get really “good at it”.

We each have the tools of change in our possession. We have more control over who we are (and therefore also more responsibility) than we may like to acknowledge. Doesn’t mean the journey is always easy. Doesn’t mean we’re in this alone. We live within the context of our circumstances, our relationships, our triggers, our biases – we are human. Personally, my own thinking on that is that this gives me choices – who do I most want to be? How do I practice that? My emotions may be a reaction to my experience, to the world around me, or to a person with whom I am interacting, but that doesn’t get me off the hook for managing those; they are mine. If I practice having tantrums? I will have tantrums. If I practice calm reflection and deep listening? My reaction to the world around me becomes characterized by calm, and consideration. Because I am so human, avoiding provocation can be quite difficult – but I know that even this is about practice. Like it or not, human primates are not entirely domesticated and can be dangerous under some circumstances… we really only ever “have control” of one of them – the one in the mirror. Limited control at best, too. Our practices matter.

It can be hard, sometimes, to practice The Four Agreements. They seem so easy, and I suppose they are easier than a lot of things – they just take practice. Rather a lot of it. (Worth it.)

It can be hard to practice The Four Agreements (or frankly, any personal growth practice) if someone I interact with routinely doesn’t share the basic values or at a minimum respect what I am hoping to do by practicing them. It’s harder still if there is someone in my day-to-day social group or community actively seeking to undermine my progress or growth. Over time, I’ve cut quite a few people loose who seemed invested in the most broken possible version of me. I think that’s the healthiest approach to toxic relationships; end them. That comes up in The Four Agreements, too:

If someone is not treating you with love and respect, it is a gift if they walk away from you. If that person doesn’t walk away, you will surely endure many years of suffering with him or her. Walking away may hurt for a while, but your heart will eventually heal. Then you can choose what you really want. You will find that you don’t need to trust others as much as you need to trust yourself to make the right choices.

Don Miguel Ruiz, The Four Agreements

The new year approaches. I’m thinking about who I am, who I most want to be, and what practices keep me on my path. We become what we practice. I smile when I think of how many times I have said that, written it down, read it back to myself – it’s a core idea (for me) in becoming the woman I most want to be. Beginning again is just a beginning (obviously) – it’s that stepping stone to the next bit of practice. We become what we practice. It’s not avoidable or negotiable. It is inevitable. Practice something – anything – long enough and it becomes characteristic of who we are. Good or bad.

Everything you have ever learned, you learned through repetition. You learned to write, to drive, and even to walk by repetition. You are a master of speaking your language because you practiced.

Don Miquel Ruiz, The Four Agreements

So… here’s a question that matters… What are you practicing? What effect does who you are have on the world around you? On your relationships? On people you say you love? Are you the person you most want to be? Maybe it’s time to reflect and make some changes to your practices?

Maybe it’s time to begin again?

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Categories Allegories, anger, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, Healthy Living, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being, The Big 5, winter

Excitement or Anxiety?

August 18, 2022 //
2

I’ve got a second interview today that I’m really excited about. I know I’m excited. I may also be anxious. Hard to say; they share quite a few characteristics in my physical experience. I’ve probably also had too much coffee, already. (I laugh at myself and push this iced coffee a bit further out of reach, and put my water bottle in the more convenient place that the coffee had occupied.)

I know I’m excited (and/or anxious) because I woke too early – shortly after 4:00 a.m., sky still completely dark. I knew I would not be able to return to sleep; my mind was already buzzing with anticipated interview questions, and pointless insecurity about how to answer them. I quietly showered, dressed, and slipped out of the house with my camera.

I get to a favorite bird-watching spot just at the twilight before daybreak.

I could have let my mind spin on the interview waiting for the sunrise… instead, I chose meditation.

Soon enough, the sun will rise.

As the sky began to lighten, I listened for bird song. Took some shots hoping for a bold sunrise. The morning is a warm one. It was still 69 degrees after yesterday’s heat. I see the substantial cloud cover to the south that threatens thunderstorms, although the forecast insists there is no chance of rain today. The air is still and muggy. As the dawn begins to unfold to daylight, I take my camera and stretch my legs, walking the path along the meadow.

I breathe, relax, and begin again.

I find a good spot to pause for pictures of little birds in the meadow grasses, and set up my camera. Patience is a good practice here; soon enough the little birds will forget I’m not part of the landscape, if I am sufficiently still and quiet. I breathe, exhale, relax, and fill my lungs with air scented with summer flowers. I let this “morning feeling” of ease and contentment fill me up. It makes sense that I’m excited about this interview: good company, good role, good people to work with, good timing, lots of potential for growth. That’s a lot of “good”, and I feel sure of all that. Feels good. It’s the unknowns that mingle anxiety with the excitement. I sip my coffee, remind myself I am well-qualified – all I really need to do is show up, be authentically myself, and have a conversation. That’s something I’m pretty good at. 🙂

…The anxiety dissipates, the excitement lingers. I see the sunrise hinted at from behind the clouds, and distant rain showers in the distance that don’t seem to reach the ground. It’s already time to begin again. It’s a good moment for it.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5
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