Archives for posts with tag: be the change

Um… Yep. Of course, I am, why would I be defensive if accused of being soft, of being kind, of wanting more and better for all of humanity? lol It’s hardly an insult. Am I delicate? Probably. My feelings get hurt when I am treated badly, why wouldn’t they be? Don’t I want to be treated well? Of course, I do. I want that for you, for all of us, for everyone. Why would I want anything else? So. Let’s put that whole “insulted by being accused of something good” silliness to rest, shall we? I’m a snowflake? Am I that? Something different? I am human… I appreciate my individual qualities as I see them… I appreciate yours… We’re each having our own experience on life’s journey. Sometimes it snows. 😉

There were undeniably snowflakes. They fell and melted away as snowflakes do.

There were undeniably snowflakes. They fell and melted away as snowflakes do.

I’ve been having to remind myself regularly that my best qualities are not flaws merely because they are shouted at me as insults, or snidely pointed out as weaknesses or limitations, and more often than not by those who lack those qualities, entirely. People who are so frightened, insecure, and in so much personal pain that they have lost sight of their shared humanity; all they have left is their anger. Well… shit. I get angry, too. Sometimes their anger infests me, plagues me, spreads from their consciousness to mine like a disease… of dis-ease. Ick. Makes me want to shower my brain. 🙂

We aren’t the insults directed our way by the hurt, the angry, the misled, the frustrated, the annoyed, the foolish, or the deranged. We’re also not the compliments lavished on us by friends, loved ones, passing strangers on a good day… or the foolish, or deranged. Too often I have found myself cherishing or resenting a handful of words tossed my way by another human being, sometimes with an intention that is not obvious to me in the moment. Words have power… the power we give them. Words are also just words, lacking in substance until substance is acknowledged. Funny magical things, words. Use your magic powers with care!

I attended an interesting meeting in the not too distant past. Everyone showed up with their laptops. Most people showed up with their cell phones. There was a meeting agenda, crafted in advance to ensure efficiency. A list of topics and action items was developed. People came to the table with the intention of achieving goals and moving projects forward. Most speakers, as the meeting unfolded, found themselves repeating material – often more than once – and defending, refuting, or clarifying points not made, and details not outlined, because the other participants were not actually fully listening at all; they were on the laptops, working, or on their devices, texting. “Multi-tasking”. I chuckle when I consider the pointless waste of precious time that 90 minutes turned out to be. Nearly everyone involved ended up following up with each other in the hours after the meeting to clarify important concerns, details, or verify expected action items after-the-fact, because in a very real sense, they didn’t actually attend that meeting, at all. Since then, I take a notepad and a pen to meetings, no connected devices. I set expectations with colleagues that I am away from my desk and unavailable. I engage the material being presented. I walk away fairly certain I understand my role. It’s such a huge improvement that when I host a meeting, myself, my first ask is that everyone mute their cell phones, set those aside, and close their laptops. Laptops don’t have meetings, people do. lol

I find myself wondering how much of the contentiousness of the world, the refusal to see eye-to-eye or acknowledge shared concerns or to collaborate, is a byproduct of not being in the moment, involved together, engaging each other directly, present and listening deeply? Quite probably mostly all of it. lol There’s a huge difference between calling a faceless group of people you’ve never met “liberal liars” or “conservative morons” than to directly, face-to-face, challenge the perspective of a human being in a skillful way. Dealing with our fears, or our insensitivity, or our cruelty surely starts with recognizing it, discussing it honestly, frankly, and without nastiness? Doesn’t that also require that we be listening when someone is talking?

Who are you? What are you afraid of? Can you hear me? Are you listening?

Listening isn’t my greatest strength, I admit. I interrupt a lot. Too much. I recognize how rude that is. I practice listening deeply. I practice a lot. The woman I most want to be is known for how well she listens; it’s something to work towards. An entire community of people who listen to each other, from the youngest voter, to the oldest elder official in office, and all the layers of human beings living lives in between… wouldn’t that change the world?

I’ll keep practicing. 🙂

If I were to paint the morning on canvas I would start with a neutral gray background. It’s just that sort of morning. Routine. Ordinary. Generally pleasant. Nothing driving any noteworthy stress – or delight. There are moments when I wonder if I’ve forgotten something I’ve committed to. Other moments when I feel fairly certain the morning is complete. The dangling loose ends of unfinished weekend conversations linger in my thoughts; some are emails I’ve not yet replied to, others are chats ended abruptly at the end of an evening or with a knock on the door. I sip my coffee and think about the world.

It’s a peculiar morning, lacking specific form or trajectory; the day could become anything at all. I’m okay with that. I make a second coffee, and consider the best ways to let the day unfold, unhindered by my expectations. I remind myself that I need to stop by the pharmacy for my Traveling Partner after work, and set an alarm and add a calendar event to see that I don’t overlook it.

I sip my coffee and wonder at the morning. I feel calm and content, and generally rested. There is nothing to object to about the start of the day, in any specific way. It’s all quite pleasant enough. The morning somehow fails to satisfy beyond basic satisfaction. I re-read that sentence and laugh at my monkey mind still reaching for “more”, after finding enough. I breathe and relax. I sip my coffee contentedly. I allow enough to be truly enough. No wonder human primates find their lives so difficult; we go looking for difficulties even when none exist in our experience of the moment. Silly primates.

I smile and put on my headphones, choosing to enjoy this moment, here, without further delay. It’s enough to change the moment… it is enough to change the world (in some very tiny, barely noticeable way, but still… there it is, changed).

 

I woke from troubled dreams sometime around three, still in pain. With effort, I pulled myself fully free of sleep and made the hard choice to take something for my pain, and tried to go back to sleep. I’m in less pain now, but the sleep thing didn’t really work out, so I’m up with a nice cup of coffee much too early on a Sunday, but still feeling well-rested, and now I’m not in so much pain…so… there’s that. 🙂 I don’t even recall with any clarity what my nightmares were about… debt… loneliness… “failure”. Dreams of discouragement and heartbreak. I remember the mood and the emotions, but the details are fading quickly. I think I’m okay with that. 🙂

I’ve no idea what today holds. I’ve got the laundry sorted… I guess I’m doing laundry. Well, it needs to be done, and living alone it’s entirely on me to do it. Now and then I may yield to some moment of adolescent foolishness, forgetting that no one else will undertake the day-to-day tasks of maintaining my lifestyle, and put aside some bit of housekeeping or another. I end up regretting that as soon as I am faced with non-negotiable workload on timing not of my choosing. So yeah, laundry today. lol I think back to the holidays; I’d lost control of my recycling in the weeks after the Yule holiday, unexpectedly, having set aside good quality boxes, thinking I might move in January, then faced with snow and ice such that physically getting to and from the recycling bin wasn’t logistically possible (for me) while also carrying the recycling. The recycling piled up a bit, and because it was “an eyesore”, I moved the boxes into my studio, where there was more space… which became more boxes. My Traveling Partner and a friend noticed I had fallen behind, and on a visit they helpfully undertook breaking down the boxes and hauling them up the driveway to the recycling bin for me. I had it on my list to do for that upcoming weekend, and I definitely appreciated their help with that; the task had begun to overwhelm me, and the likelihood I might continue to put it off had increased because of that. (I try not to get to that point with any one housekeeping task for that reason.)

Yesterday's blue skies took no notice of my pain. I made a point of noticing the blue skies. :-)

Yesterday’s blue skies took no notice of my pain. I made a point of noticing the blue skies. 🙂

I looked around yesterday, in the morning, and spent the day on housekeeping, aside from the delightful hours I spent with my Traveling Partner in the afternoon. It was a day well-spent, in spite of the amount of pain I was in. This morning I don’t hurt so much. There’s still some housekeeping to do, and I’m torn… I’d also like to paint, but I think this particular weekend is one to spend on self-care in the form of unpaid labor: laundry, vacuuming, tidying things up generally, preparing my tax documents. These are all also a good use of my time. These are things that do need to be done. Being an adult, it is fully on me to do these things. Being adult, I know that as investments go, investing my own effort into my desired quality of life matters a great deal.

"Irises" 8" x 10" acrylic on canvas w/glow, February 2017

“Irises” 8″ x 10″ acrylic on canvas w/glow, February 2017

For me, adequate studio time is a quality of life concern. 🙂

"Hillside Meadow" 8" x 10" acrylic on canvas w/glow, February 2017

“Hillside Meadow” 8″ x 10″ acrylic on canvas w/glow, February 2017

I listen to the rain fall. There’s likely time, and light (later), for painting too; that is the advantage of having real studio space right here. I’ll have to see where these moments take me, today. Perhaps I’ll light a fire and read a book instead? I sit quietly, listening to the rain, and the wind chime rocking in the pre-dawn wind, distracted from my writing.

Rainy morning, before dawn - what does the day hold? Where will my journey take me?

Rainy morning, before dawn – what does the day hold? Where will my journey take me?

Today is a good day for being and becoming. Today is a good day to take the very best care of the person in the mirror. Today is a good day for meditation, for housekeeping, for sipping coffee and watching the rain fall. Today is a good day to change the world within these walls, and within this heart. Today that’s enough. ❤

Well… damn. I slept rather restlessly, waking briefly, often. Around 3:20 am I woke, really woke, and got up for a drink of water, took my morning medication, and went back to bed. I mean, shit, it’s Saturday; I can sleep in!! 😀

I forgot to shut off my alarm, though, before I went to bed. It went off at the usual time. I’d only just really fallen deeply asleep, and without a thought I rolled over, turned it off, and went back to sleep. Restful, blissful, deep deep sleep… So nice. At some moment, probably approximately 5:51 am, my consciousness roused just enough to smile to myself and feel some amusement that I hadn’t at all planned the day or the weekend. How strange is that?

How strange is that?

No, hey, you there – sleeping – that’s strange, isn’t it?

Isn’t it?

My eyes opened ever so slightly and noted perceptible loss of darkness in the room… then it hit me; it’s Friday and I have work today. Fuck. Fuck, and damn it, and… LOL.

I didn’t quite launch myself from the bed, and I was calm and fairly together as I checked the time. 5:51 am. I felt a huge wave of relief; I can be entirely on time for my day, nonetheless, and start doing the things. No need to rush through my routine at breakneck speed, very little of the morning is spent on that. I accept that I won’t have coffee, or write, this morning and get one with things.

By 6:15 am, I’ve showered and dressed (a t-shirt and jeans go well with both my hiking boots and the work culture, so… yeah, done and done).  I start the dishwasher while I make coffee… and even sit down to tell the merry tale of misadventure before I leave for a work day I’d forgotten I have. The chaos in my morning… isn’t. I’m okay right now. My routine pays off. Practicing the practices pays off. I am resilient… and I’m ready to bounce. I’ll even leave the house on time! 😀

I’m not bragging. …I suppose if you aren’t aware that oversleeping on a work day could have put me in a state of unmanageable hysterics as little as 7 years ago, on this whole other “do you think we should… call someone?” level, it might not make sense that I am smiling, and merry, and even quite pleased with the morning so far. Why punish an entire Friday for 81 minutes of sweet restless sleep stolen from my morning? I must have needed the rest pretty badly. I’m glad I got it. 😀

Ready? Begin!

Ready? Begin!

Today is a good day to pause, and appreciate what works. Today is a good day to build on what is. Today is a good day for being quite human, and being quite okay with that. 🙂 Isn’t that enough?

This morning over my coffee I watched a video that resonates with me, another way of saying things about this amazing journey, another way to say “the way out is through”. Maybe you’ll enjoy it too? The Nerdwriter is a personal favorite, and this particular video on “Kintsugi” says much, quite simply.

So, this morning I go forward into the day thinking about the chaos and damage in another way; I am who I am because I’ve been through what I’ve been through, and made the choices I’ve made, and lived the moments I’ve lived… and I like a lot of who I am. There is a balance to be struck between grieving past trauma, and respecting the woman in the mirror; it’s been a hell of a journey, and we’ve come a long way together. Some of my “best” qualities as a thinking, feeling, reasoning, loving, being are a direct result of my brain injury…so… who am I? Am I my trauma? No. Am I some creation beyond or outside my experiences of trauma? Not that either.

I think I’ll stop throwing away broken porcelain. There is a better way. 🙂