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Walking on Ice

December 16, 2016 //
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Today I’ll head to the office. My clothes are appropriate for the weather. I’ve got a warm coat. I’ll put on a hate, scarf, gloves, and my Yak Tracks (even though my hiking boots have good tread and are very “grippy”, they’re not the “tool for the job” on icy surfaces). I’ve got a hiking base layer on under my work clothes. I don’t expect to make the trip as quickly as some dry autumn morning. I don’t expect my footing to be as secure as a summer day. I’ll take my time and make the trip without rushing myself, unconcerned about timeliness, and focused on safety.

Not all journeys are “the same”; we are each having our own experience. I live in the Portland (Oregon) area, and although we playfully mock ourselves for coming unglued over two inches of snow, here, the icing over that happens regularly is genuinely a hazard. I stayed home yesterday; travel wasn’t very safe, and working from home is an option for me. Today, I’m choosing to make the journey less because there’s any great improvement in the safety, and more because the specifics of the work to be done will benefit from being on site. I miss my Traveling Partner like crazy, but his safety matters more by far (and Giftmas is almost here, and we have plans to spend some time together over the holiday, making it easy to be patient).

We are each having our own experience… and in this icy winter weather, we are also “all in it together” as soon as we step out onto the pavement, or get into our cars. How do I find balance between taking care of me, and being fully considerate of my fellow travelers? It’s a question that has a permanent place on my list. What matters most? Another good question. How can I help? A good question to have ready, generally, and excellent for use in tough circumstances.

Today is a good day for care and consideration, for taking care of me, for looking out for others. Today is a good day to put safety first, and to be aware of those that could use some help or a moment of kindness. Today is a good day to dress for the weather, and approach the journey with a measure of caution. It’s winter out there. I can choose whether I see it as a wonderland, or… something different than that. I can choose how I see the world.

Each having our own experience.

Each having our own experience.

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Categories Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Parables, Perspective, solo hiking, The Art of Being, The Big 5, winter

Nothing to Say Here…

December 13, 2016 //
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I woke with a headache, to the sound of the alarm. I’m sipping my coffee quietly some time later, sort of waiting for words to come to me, which is not my most effective approach to writing. Have I used up all the words? Quite possibly, I suppose… there are only so many. 😉

I recognize, sitting here, that it is more accurate to observe that I’ve got things on my mind I haven’t worked out, yet, and since they are both on my mind and not yet fully considered, I find it difficult to write, generally. There is thinking and feeling to be done! I sit with that awareness awhile. There was a time when either the thinking, or the feeling, could have gotten in the way of living the moments, and I would write steadily  throughout, reluctant to fully experience either the thinking or the feelings. Lately I find the participation in life, itself, highly engaging. I find thinking and feeling worthy of contemplation – fearless, fruitful, deep consideration, without rumination. Also without much writing. Later perhaps. There will be time, later.

I sip my coffee, and find it is at just that perfectly comfortable drinking temperature, pleasantly warm, not hot enough to burn my mouth. I finish the cup, and stare into the Giftmas tree for some moments, listening to the aquarium trickling in the background, and my tinnitus ringing, tinging, buzzing, and beeping in the background. (Yes, beeping; a short repeating morse code phrase, as if heard from a distance, quite audible to me though, in a very quite room.)

I make reminders to myself on my calendar: call for a doctor’s appointment, call to cancel a no-longer needed service for my Traveling Partner, make an appointment to get my eyes checked and order new glasses, connect with the realtor about a house I’d like to see. Life. Adulthood. Decades distant from most of the chaos and damage. How then does it still ever have any power to haunt and hurt me so much? Because I choose to allow it? Because that’s the very nature of post-traumatic stress disorder? Because I have a brain injury? Because that’s how our negative bias works? Because we become what we practice, and I’d practiced maintaining that state of things far longer than I’ve yet to practice something different? All of that? More? Other? Sure, okay, even all of that – there are new beginnings within reach, every day. New practices. More time. This life thing truly is a process and a journey; the destination is in the living moments, each one, here, now. 🙂

A second coffee sounds good. There’s time for that. Time for meditation. Time to begin again. The headache sucks, but that too will pass. 🙂 I’m here, now, and I have this moment. It’s enough.

 

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Categories Brain Injury, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, The Art of Being

Giftmas Wishes

December 10, 2016 //
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Giftmas is approaching quickly. I am feeling merry and cheerily invested in what is as likely to be a solitary holiday as not; there is no certainty in my planning these days, and I am learning to be okay with that. It is in the planning that my own comfort lies, and in clear communication and expectation-setting when plans begin to shift, or go sideways unexpectedly. Each of life’s disappointments, hardships, and changes open my eyes to some new perspective or opportunity, a little like a holiday advent calendar.

Let it snow? Sure, why not? Or don't - that's okay, too.

Let it snow? Sure, why not? Or don’t – that’s okay, too.

Last night was wonderfully merry, and definitely my idea of a festive holiday season. My early Giftmas present arrived on my doorstep, and when I got home one of my neighbors brought it over; he’d taken it in knowing I was not home. I had no time to open the box before a small posse of my former colleagues from another company (and dear friends) stopped by for some holiday cheer and catching up on things.  We enjoyed a (rare treat for me) glass of sherry together, and hung out sharing anecdotes, and generally enjoying a couple precious hours together. I miss those guys; seeing them every day was the best part of that particular job. It’s always been the people that matter most, though I didn’t always understand that. 🙂

Eventually, alone again in my quiet sanctuary on the edge of a marshy meadow, fire reduced to glowing embers, I opened the box. I cried happy tears that couldn’t be held back. I ran my fingers along the glossy black enameled lines of the new mixer. Some feminist, right? Standing in my kitchen in fuzzy spa socks, caressing a kitchen appliance, crying happy tears. I laughed out loud, still weeping with joy. Down to the tiniest detail, that man loves me. Fuck, I hope I am truly worthy of such profound emotion.

This mixer is black… it replaces a beige one, a color that was, at the time, a compromise; I had wanted a white one, then. My traveling partner ordered this new mixer, standing in my kitchen while we talked of other things. He chose one that matches my current appliances, understanding my aesthetic. He may even have understood that there is significance in how very “opposite” the glossy black is in my eyes – a gift given truly from a place of love, utterly the opposite in every way to the off-white mixer, which was given out of obligation and delivered into a relationship characterized by violence, violation, and destruction. (Although I loved the old mixer for its exquisite functionality and utility and purpose, every time I used it old damage and pain would surface to fill my consciousness again…over decades.) This morning, I stood in the kitchen making my coffee, smiling at the beautiful black mixer on the counter, alluring, promising good times in the kitchen, and reminding me only of love.

This morning the apartment is filled with music. There’s housekeeping to be done; my Traveling Partner is planning to be over tonight. The mixer stands ready for adventures in baking, and I have a stack of cookbooks next to me that I began flipping through last night. I look at them, and smile, and somewhere in a dark corner one of my demons lays down and dies, as happy tears slide past my smile. “I’m free!!” something inside me shouts with joy. I’m not sure quite what, or quite why.  I’m okay with feeling this good in this moment.

Today is a good day to be merry. Giftmas is almost here. Today is a good day for giving, and a good day for loving. Baking holiday treats may not change the world, but they’ll sure make the house smell wonderful!  😀

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Categories Brain Injury, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Parables, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, The Art of Being, The Big 5, winter

Morning Already?

December 9, 2016 //
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I woke a little ahead of the alarm and spent the time meditating. The morning is comfortable, in spite of the slight chill in the room; it is winter, after all, and the nights are colder now. Yesterday’s snow was expected to melt away during the night, but I woke to the ground still mostly covered in white, the parking lot still icy. Go to work? Work from home? I’m glad I have the choice… I don’t yet know what that choice will be. I sip my coffee contentedly.

I am eager for the weekend, although the work week has been pleasant and productive; there are things to do here at home. My TV was recovered after the recent burglary… it still sits on the floor, not yet plugged in. I had hung paintings and arranged holiday decor in the space it once occupied, and I’m finding it strangely difficult to put it back. 🙂

Life, day-to-day, is pretty ordinary stuff… It was fairly recently that I started to understand that it happens that most of life’s happiness and joy is tucked away in the most ordinary things about my life. Chasing the grand, the exotic, the elaborate, the costly… none of that improves the odds on being actually happy, in fact, all the chasing seems to reliably take me a very different direction than “happy”.

I hear cars slowly crackling through the ice in the parking lot as the earliest neighbors leave for work. My turn, soon. I could work from home, but the tasks left for Friday this week will be slow going on a laptop screen. I’d definitely be more efficient, and benefit more from my skills, with the big dual monitors in front of me. The windows are a distraction… less so than having myself comfortably wrapped in Giftmas – I’d probably wander off from working and start baking, forgetting that I am still “on the clock”, a poor choice. Working from home, I’d also lose my walk. Huh. Well that was fairly easy as decisions, go. I’ll at least make the attempt to go in to the office. 🙂

Today? Today is enough. 🙂

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Categories Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, The Art of Being, winter

Just a Reminder

December 7, 2016 //
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Be kind. Be considerate. Be careful. Be aware. We’re each having our own experience – all in this together, sometimes not completely aware that we are interconnected. We each feel our own pain, sometimes thinking it hurts the most, of anything, ever, forgetting – often – how much other pain exists, and how much suffering there is in the world, generally. We forget to be our best selves, sometimes when it matters most. We forget we can begin again.

Today is a good day for reminders, best practices, consideration, openness, and helping each other out. Today is a good day to share a moment with a friend, and to be kind to strangers. Today is a good day to be and to become, and a good day to embrace change.

imag8161

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Categories Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Love, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, The Art of Being, The Big 5, Words
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