Archives for posts with tag: being and becoming

…Or, well, don’t. I can’t really help much on the topic of forgiveness. I’m not an expert on it – hell, I barely understand the concept, and I am pretty sure I suck at ‘forgiveness’. (I hear the recollection of 20-something me, in the distance past, snarling at an associate “there are things even your god does not forgive!” in a moment of unreserved hurt and rage.) I am having to come to terms with some things about the idea of forgiveness, though. Firstly, that ‘forgiveness’ is not a religious tenet; it’s a concept available to anyone for their own benefit, at any time. Secondly, forgiveness says nothing at all about the person being forgiven – and says a lot about the person forgiving. The last thing I am coming to terms with is that to grow beyond ancient pain, and ancient rage, sooner or later forgiveness comes up as a topic; I can’t move on, or let go, without the power of ‘forgiveness’… Which means sooner or later, understanding the concept would be useful.

I resent the hell out of being faced with any expectation or demand that I forgive some heinous transgression. I’m very human. When I hurt I want it ‘made right’ with me by the person who hurt me, and no substitute will do. There is no room for ‘apology by proxy’ in my heart. These feelings give the anger a foothold to become bitterness over time, and the hurt to become a festering wound that changes who I am. That’s powerful – and not in a positive way. When I find myself unable to let go of a hurt over time, it has the power to slowly see me evolve to become that thing that hurt me so, or something worse. Hell of a puzzle there; failing to forgive someone who hurt me gives them the power to continue to influence my heart and mind!

"Broken"  16" x 20" acrylic on canvas w/ceramic & glow 2012 Once the damage is done...then what?

“Broken” 16″ x 20″ acrylic on canvas w/ceramic & glow 2012
Once the damage is done…then what?

Not knowing how to forgive, and not being permitted vengeance or retribution, I have sometimes found myself trapped, holding on to pain, frustration, impotent rage – slowly poisoning myself from within. This is not a condition in life I would wish on myself, and recognizing that one key to the puzzle of ancient pain may be this ‘forgiveness’ thing I hear so much about, perhaps it is time to consider it further?

I have some experience with forgiveness. Childhood experiences mostly, in some cases rather scripted – the parental ‘say you’re sorry to your sister’ example comes to mind, where following the steps end with just letting it go, and returning to play. Compassion may be a natural quality of human beings, but I am pretty sure ‘forgiving’ has to be taught to us. Forgiveness was not emphasized in my upbringing. Is it a process, more than an emotion? I’m pretty handy when I have the steps of a process written down in front of me for practice…maybe that’s what I need to do here? Figure out the steps to forgiveness, write them down, and…oh yeah, you know what comes next right? Practice.

Why am I on about this, this morning? I read a quote on the internet recently that got my attention, and resonated with me in the moment, and lingered:

Forgiving someone doesn’t mean condoning their behavior. It doesn’t mean forgetting how they hurt you or giving that person room to hurt you again. Forgiving someone means making peace with what happened. It means acknowledging your wound, giving yourself permission to feel the pain, and recognizing why that pain no longer serves you. It means letting go of the hurt and resentment so that you can heal and move on. ~Daniell Koepke

It is from a larger article, that I didn’t have time to read and bookmarked for later. The quote has stuck with me for days. I’d never understood forgiveness in those terms. This matters, at least to me; I have long struggled with the idea that forgiveness gave that other ‘a pass’ – they ‘get away with it’ – they ‘win’ – and at my expense! It seems so incredibly unfair. When I read this quote it opened my heart to understand that forgiveness isn’t ever about that person who hurt us, and it isn’t something we do for them – is it the ‘missing puzzle piece’ that allows me to move on, to heal, to ‘let it go’ on my own terms, and in my own time? That’s a pretty big deal. Definitely worth further consideration.

Life finds its own path, sometimes the 'obvious' choices are not the only choices.

Life finds its own path, sometimes the ‘obvious’ choices are not the only choices. (A rose seedling growing in the crook of a tree.)

Life’s curriculum continues to put the most challenging coursework I can manage in front of me for my continuing education. 🙂 I’ve come a long way to be ready to study forgiveness; it seems like ‘advanced studies’ to me. It dovetails with a recent discussion with my therapist about anger, and another that followed on that topic with my traveling partner. Anger is another very big deal, and difficult for me to discuss without rousing the beast within; is forgiveness also a path to cooling the heat and ferocity of ancient rage so that I can at last actually just talk about it? I feel a bit as if I opened a chapter in the text-book that opens with a promising paragraph that ‘connects the dots’ in a much bigger puzzle, but does so using new vocabulary that I don’t really understand. I am eager to continue.

Taking the obstacles one at a time, and taking the journey slowly; there's a lot to learn along the way.

Taking the obstacles one at a time, and taking the journey slowly; there’s a lot to learn along the way.

Today is a good day to study, and a good day to embrace new knowledge. Today is a good day to grow, and to become more that woman I most want to be. Today is a good day to take a different look at the world I live within; it is of my own creation, and perhaps it is time to change the emotional landscape?

I am sipping my coffee contentedly, and sifting rather passively through words and ideas. I am open to inspiration but not finding any so far. I am content with this, too. My coffee is very good, and the morning is a pleasant one. My brain is not yet ‘firing on all cylinders’, and I am not inclined to be demanding or insistent with myself; it is a Monday, and there is no reason to rush. (That’s really the big advantage of my leisurely mornings; I don’t feel rushed. Ever.)

Coffee, flowers, and a celebration of morning.

Coffee, flowers, and a celebration of morning.

The days are already becoming shorter. It is no longer already daylight when I wake, and I enjoy watching dawn bring shades of mauve and blue to the darkness as I sip my coffee, yawning, and wondering what to write ‘about’. I feel content and satisfied, and well-rested after a delightful weekend. I find myself already eager to end the work day (that has not yet even begun) to hurry home to… read. Or write. Or paint. Or… do something with and for me, even if nothing more than cooking myself a tasty meal using produce from my garden, or taking a hot shower and enjoying the sensuous pleasure of water on skin.

This morning doesn’t need to be ‘about’ anything besides morning, itself. Enjoying the quiet, the serenity, the cool morning air, and a few moments for myself before the work day is enough. Weightier matters can wait for some other day, some other moment…”now” is not for any of that, apparently; my time is taken up with this very excellent cup of coffee, and the recollection of a lovely weekend.

Today is a good day to savor the moments that delight me and nourish my heart. Today is a good day to pause the hard work, the drama, the focus, and the energy spent on effort, to take a few moments for me just to enjoy me – and the outcome of prior hard work, focus, and energy spent on effort, and the lack of drama day-to-day. Today is a good day to be, on my way to becoming.

One thing I do know about making a great cup of coffee in the morning is that the wait for that first sip is greatly shortened by actually turning on the stove, coffee machine, espresso machine, or whatever device or process gets things going. lol Apparently I learned this, this morning at about 6:30 am, after waiting almost an hour, not noticing the time passing, and finally wondering ‘where’s my coffee?’.

Yep. First thing this morning, 100% mindfulness fail. [Metaphorically picks self up off the playground, dusts off knees, straightens clothes, moves on.]

This morning, also very uncharacteristically, I ‘hit snooze’ when my alarm went off. Not the easy way, with the snooze feature; I don’t even know how to use that when I am not quite awake because I don’t use it. Instead, I squinted at the clock next to the lamp I had turned on out of habit, and reset the alarm for a half an hour later. If I’m going to try to grab more sleep, I’m not playing around with 6 minutes! It’s a rare choice; it means cutting into my leisurely morning time, but I slept badly, and my interrupted sleep did not provide the rest I needed. When the alarm went off this morning, I was not able to wake myself more than it took to reset the alarm and return to sleep. I didn’t even turn the lamp off.

These are some of the effects stress has on me that quickly worsen if I don’t practice really excellent self-care. Today is a day full of opportunities to choose – what are the choices that will result in the best self-care outcomes over time? I sip my coffee and consider it. The weekend is almost here – it’s tempting to shrug off my needs and push taking care of me to the weekend, but doing so likely would be more compromising than self-supporting, and could have hidden professional consequences due to noise sensitivity or loss of emotional resilience.

Yes, supporting me is important to me. I’m not afraid or ashamed to say so; I’m just not reliably skilled at it. One of the things that stressed me out so much yesterday (that is truly a small thing in the moment, but that for me presents real terror in the future) was a news article quoting a presidential candidate as saying Americans ‘need’ to ‘work more hours’ – what a load of bullshit! If anything, it’s criminal we’re not all happily thriving on a 32 hour work week, with overtime prohibitions, at a higher hourly rate of pay. There are certainly enough other people who would like to work, and many of us are indirectly robbing the marketplace of job opportunities by continuing to be pressured into working longer hours as it is, instead of insisting businesses hire the staff they really need to do these jobs, and go ahead and take the appropriate hit to their bottom-line. Human beings are not components, and exploiting them for profit ought to result in the exploited similarly profiting, themselves. Okay, okay, end rant. I know I should not be reading the news – definitely not on a therapy day, when my emotions are out in the open, and I am all raw nerve endings and shards of damage. It’s at least not a best practice for me. Media trolls bait me way too easily.

I continue to sip my coffee and consider my day. I am tired and not well-rested. My head aches, as does my back. I could quite possibly go back to sleep right now with great ease, even after my coffee. [Speaking of coffee, this morning’s words are fueled by St John’s Coffee Roaster‘s Misty Mountain Hop espresso, a roast with an interestingly complex flavor. I enjoy this local coffee roaster both for their coffees, and their great customer service.] I may choose to leave work ahead of my usual end of day and try to get the rest I am needing, rather than pile on more fatigue and stress and risk aggravating my symptoms, or finding that I have exceeded my ability to manage my injury efficiently. It’s a hard call; like so many working adults, I often find myself capitulating to the needs of the business that employs me, to my detriment both short and long-term. I often ask myself what a paycheck is really worth, and whether I am being appropriately compensated for expending my limited life force – and time – in this way.

As with great coffee, the tasks I face  – large and small – have steps, and between the steps there are choices. The choices matter. The ability to choose matters. The outcomes… yeah, those  matter too – and it isn’t always clear to me which outcomes are connected (truly) to which steps, and which choices. Lab rats in mazes have a much easier time of things, I suspect, although perhaps it is very similar. I am learning that when I can let go of the expectations and assumptions that drive reflexive choices in favor of employment, in favor of social image-craft, in favor of mainstream society’s demands (or frankly in favor of anyone/thing but what I want for myself and the world I live in), over time my outcomes tend to sort themselves out in a positive way without much other investment beyond generally choosing as mindfully as I can to take care of me while doing no harm. (That’s ‘doing no harm’ to people, living things, and the world we share; I am not bamboozled into thinking corporations are people. They are not.)

Flowers do not have to be cultivated, or bred into complex forms, to be lovely. It is enough that they are flowers.

Flowers do not have to be cultivated, or bred into complex forms, to be lovely. It is enough that they are flowers.

It’s a lot of words to say ‘today I will take care of me the best ways I can, and I will put me first’, isn’t it? 🙂

Today I will tend the flowers in the garden of my heart.

Today I will tend the flowers in the garden of my heart.

Today is a good day to take care of me; when else will I get to it? Today is a good day to recognize that the world, too, is part of me and needs my very best care, my best choices, and a handful of verbs.

I would write more than I will, if I could. It’s been a peculiar day, and more stressful that it had any right to be. Any deep dive of the details I might attempt would only go too far, and say nothing meaningful or of lasting value; I am tired, and I have been through too much today.

Let’s be fair about the day? It wasn’t tragic, just trying. It started well and finished with a cascade of challenges interspersed with a couple of things that were quite nice, and turned out well. The things that went awry weren’t crises of any magnitude – it was all small stuff, unworthy of stress. I simply found myself pulled down, anyway.

The morning was lovely. It’s enough to say that, and linger on the lovely morning, without thinking about the strangely disturbed night’s ‘sleep’ that wasn’t really sleep which preceded it. The morning wiped all that from my consciousness for many hours, and the challenges of the day were simple reminders that I must be vigilant and assertive about taking care of me.

Reset! Let's try again tomorrow.

Reset! Let’s try again tomorrow.

I’m tired now. I’m home and safe. The water in the community is back on – a shower at the end of this hot day will be just the thing. It’s chill time, and there is nothing to fear or to doubt. Tomorrow will unfold on its own merit, as days generally do.

This morning I woke in pain; my arthritis has flared up after many days of not bothering me much at all. The hot dry days offer relief…but…it’s still hot. It’s still dry. I am in pain. I slowly rose, patient with the stiffness of my spine. This is a morning for music and dance, cool breezes be damned. I peer through the patio blinds and notice with some surprise that already the days are shortening and dawn is coming later…did I wake ahead of the alarm? I double-check. It went off. It woke me. I no longer remember hearing it. Pain is a distraction.

I start the day with Usher, and coffee. Facebook tells me my computer is infected with malware. I glare at the page with skepticism and irritation. Why is Facebook telling me what to do? I log out with a promise to myself to let my traveling partner know; I trust him, and his skills, more than any app or browser warning. Hell – the warning probably is the malware, requesting permission to get started. For the moment I find myself in contemplation of all that is unclean and vile about the internet, and my head aches with the weight of the suspicion, and distrust. The pain, again, is a distraction.

I reach for my coffee, and burn my tongue, then spill it in my lap for the added delight of hot coffee held to tender flesh by coffee soaked jeans. Seriously? Who the hell ordered this day? I snarl at myself, managing to knock over my chair as I get up, too quickly, to change clothes. The chair falls on my foot. Great. The top I wanted to wear doesn’t go with the pair of jeans I just put on. The top I’d wear instead is in the laundry. I break a nail reaching for an acceptable alternative. Are you fucking kidding me? What is up with today?

Pain is no joke. The unexpected return of significant arthritis pain this morning easily throws me off, which would be, perhaps, just a little amusing in the face of words like ‘chronic’ and ‘long-term’ – if I were in any mood whatever to laugh about it. Right now I just hurt. I hurt and I’m sort of mad at the day right now. Don’t say it. I know what works. There are practices to practice and it’s time for that. I get it. Pardon me while I take a few minutes to take care of me.

Yes, yes. I know.

Yes, yes. I know.

1. I took my medication on time, and it’ll take another 30-40 minutes to be fully effective. It only addresses the symptom: pain. There is more to do to put the day back on track.

2. Medical cannabis helps by potentiating the Rx pain reliever – and it will take the edge off my quickly deteriorating mood, and wipe the snarl off my face promptly…and make yoga easier.

3. Putting the rest of the morning aside, yoga is next, and I take my time with a long sequence of postures that lengthen and gently flex my spine, easing the pain where the pain lives. The headache begins to diminish.

4. Then, meditation – this is an Rx that goes straight to the brain, literally, and is a first/last/always step for me these days…although, sometimes, like a child resisting bedtime I fight the necessity irritably for no good reason.

5. Coffee. I take my time making a really first-rate cup of coffee for myself, and sit down to enjoy it, feeling very much that the morning has been ‘reset’.

It is once again a morning filled with music and I am smiling and sipping my coffee as contentedly as if I woke up on an entirely different morning. Choices, verbs, patience and self-compassion, and the willingness to accept that the potential to improve a poor experience exists…and practicing practices for the win. 🙂

Enjoying other moments.

Enjoying other moments.

The morning moves on, time passes, I sit quietly enjoying pictures of a walk with the wanderer after work, yesterday. If I spend more time thinking about the rough start to the morning, lingering on uncomfortable sensations, unpleasant emotions, or the difficulties themselves, than I do savoring the delights of other moments with similar depth and clarity, over time my negative bias will increase, and my ‘background experience’ will become more negative as well. I take this understanding very seriously, and commit to enjoying my coffee and thinking about the evening behind me. I linger over the recollection of finally taking a photograph of a dragonfly.

He's there, really. (I have no idea why I like dragonflies so very much, but I do.)

He’s there, really. (I have no idea why I like dragonflies so very much, but I do.)

I think, too, about the later conversation with my traveling partner, and the feeling of connection and warmth in spite of the physical distance. That takes my thoughts all sorts of lovely places, thinking about love, Love, and loving. At this point there is no hint of the morning’s challenges remaining in my experience of the moment, and I find myself ready to move on with the day.

Am I achieving emotional self-sufficiency? Do I need to ask this question now? Living the experience is, perhaps, enough.

Beautiful.

Beautiful.

Today is a good day for practicing practices, using verbs, and having my own experience – if it’s mine, I can change it. 🙂