Archives for posts with tag: be open

I slept in. I reached the trailhead as the sun cleared the horizon, and after enjoying some lovely views of Mt Hood at sunrise on my way up the highway. It is a clear cold morning, frosty and breezy.

Dawn, and the mountain in the distance.

I thought to make my way around the nature park from the less frequented trailhead tucked out of the way along the west side of the park, nearer to the river. I’d forgotten that the trail on that side is part of the seasonal route; closed until Spring. I grab a shot of the sunrise and head to the main trailhead. As late as it is, this morning, there are only a couple cars in the parking lot. It’s too cold for most walkers, though it is now a few degrees above freezing. Photographers and dedicated bird watchers still show up – and me.

I reach my halfway point, grateful for the added warmth of my gloves, scarf, and hat. I sit awhile, watching small birds hopping among the bare branches of nearby oaks. Busy morning for small birds, apparently.

Which is the distraction, the many small birds, or the tangle of branches against the blue sky?

I sit with my thoughts awhile. “Other people’s drama”, mostly, pulling my focus from what I need for and from myself most. The amount of emotional energy any one of us has to put into supporting, avoiding, addressing, healing, resolving, soothing, or staying out of such things is sometimes pretty fucking ridiculous (and draining). We inflict it on ourselves through social media, we find it forced upon us in our relationships, we create it in some moment of frustration, disappointment, or misunderstanding. It’s all very messy and annoying. We could do better. Unfortunately, emotional intelligence, critical thinking, conflict resolution, and healthy communication practices are rarely explicitly taught as part of mainstream curriculum (definitely not in the US), and many of us only notice the lack in our own life and development when we finally breakdown to the point of getting (and accepting) real help. Most of us just get by on a DIY approach, changing problematic behavior only after it destroys some important relationship, or after our life “falls apart” as a consequence of our shitty behavior or lack of emotional control.

“Feel what you’re feeling, do what is right,” a monster used to say to me. (I didn’t realize then that through other eyes I might be viewed as a monster, myself. PTSD is a relentless adversary, and hurt people do hurt people.) I can’t say I learned many good lessons in that relationship – and I’m lucky to have escaped with my life. This phrase has continued to stick in my memory. It’s an important idea about choice and values and free will and could have been really useful guidance if I’d had more understanding of my emotional experience in the first place, or if I’d had a more clear understanding of what I thought was “right”, and where I stood in relation to my values. It is more useful now, however regrettable the source.

Human beings, being human. It’s complicated. Sometimes some pretty important basics elude us until we’ve made a mess of our lives completely. Sometimes we just don’t accept guidance we’re offered. People are complicated. We’re each having our own experience, but often behaving as though we have shared perspective, values, and understanding of circumstances – even though we barely manage to communicate clearly. Often we aren’t even listening to the Other, we’re just wary, defensive, and waiting to talk. We could definitely do better.

Who do you most want to be? How will you be remembered by those who matter to you most?

I sit listening to the wind blow. It’s a different experience with the hearing aids in. I ask myself what steps I would take to improve a valued but contentious relationship if it were critical to preserve and deepen that relationship? What would I tell a friend if asked? I think I’d begin with utterly basic practices, starting with the Four Agreements. (Nevermind mind the “woo”, these are really effective basic practices.) I might also suggest:

  1. Be sincerely curious – ask questions from a place of goodwill.
  2. Listen deeply.
  3. Assume positive intent.
  4. Remind yourself why this person and relationship matter to you.
  5. Behave with kindness.
  6. Do not escalate.

I know. Not the easiest list of practical suggestions. Feasible with practice, but so many verbs and opportunities for failure. It can be really hard to pause in some moment of temper and say in an honest and vulnerable way “hold on, I want a do-over on this conversation, this is not how I mean to behave.” Practice will result in incremental changes over time. No guarantees that people dear to you will stick around while you struggle to become the person you most want to be. Use your words. Do your best.

… You’ll definitely have to do the work involved in being a better version of yourself, all on your own…

…Yes, it’s real work, and a lot of it.

I guess I’m just saying, things are sometimes challenging in these human relationships. It can seem so unreasonable to have to work so hard at them. It can be so worth it! Do your best – and when you fail (and you will), take a breath, apologize sincerely for the harm you may have done, and begin again.

… Good luck! This shit is hard sometimes…

I slept well last night, and got enough rest. I woke gently, and quietly made coffee, hoping not to wake my still-sleeping partner. I headed to the studio, sat down with my coffee, and started trying to put my thoughts together, words on a page, on a quiet Sunday. I’m grateful to have had an entire night’s sleep. Today, it looks like I’m going to need it.

This morning, my writing is interrupted, several times, for what I can only describe in this moment as “difficult interactions”. I’m not yet fully awake, and lack adequate emotional resilience for the irritated (I hear it as angry) tone of voice, so early in the morning. My thoughts are fractured, scattered, and now focused on feeling hurt, instead of nurturing something within me. My studio door gets slammed, probably without intent. My tears spill over. A quiet morning is apparently not on today’s agenda, and I am the hapless villain in this story – but who is the author? I feel frustrated, sad, and isolated (as much because I don’t really know what to do with these feelings, in this moment). It irks me that I woke up feeling so soft and amiably inclined toward my partner… and at the moment, I feel only the sting of his irritation, his disappointment with me (“What do I have to do to help you remember??”), and the visceral sensation along my nerves of a slammed door.

Sometimes “doing our best” isn’t enough to overcome opportunities to fail at something, or to miss a detail, and “trying hard” is not enough to ensure success. This is true with or without a brain injury. We have to choose again and again to “do the verbs” and to try again. We have to choose again and again to walk our path, or select a new one. It is also true that we don’t generally grow from the things we are reliably good at, or which we find comfortable and easy. So, okay – routine human shit between human primates. Sometimes it’s hard. Sometimes it isn’t comfortable. Sometimes it is necessary to be reminded what the point of it is, and refocus our efforts, because it matters enough to do that. It reliably takes practice.

…What a shitty morning so far…and less than an hour into the day. Disappointment with myself, with the morning, with the circumstances, it all fills me up and spills over as tears, while I watch a little brown bird on the stoop, picking enough sustenance from the ground and from the sidewalk, just to get by another day. I watch the little bird, and try to nudge myself in the direction of recognizing that I am just experiencing some emotional weather; the climate in my heart (and, I assume, my partner’s) is fine. This? It’s just a moment. It’s useful to begin again, if I can start on that, somehow, then it’s not “a shitty morning” as much as a shitty moment. Moments are brief, and they pass.

This time, when my Traveling Partner opens the door to the studio, his face is softened, and he looks at me with love. The irritation is gone. He steps close, and strokes my hair. I apologize for the difficult start to his morning, through my slow, steady, tears. He tells me “it is what it is” and “I’m not angry”. He’s human, too. If I allow it to, the morning will shift gears to a happier place; we’ve made that possible, now it is just a matter of accepting that change and going with it. A matter of beginning again. I give myself a moment to appreciate having a partnership with so much resilience and potential to bounce back from a difficult interaction. I savor the feeling of gratitude that seeps in, as I contemplate the difference between this partnership, and others I’ve had.

I breathe. Exhale. Relax. Allow my heart to slow, and my posture to lift me more erect. I sip my coffee, and begin again.