Archives for posts with tag: breathe

With fall really here, and the new job feeling very real as life settles into new routines, I take a moment to remind myself that “this too shall pass”. That’s neither good nor bad, and it’s neither the journey, nor is it an impediment to my forward progress; change is.

autumn leaf

autumn leaf, rain-soaked lawn

The holiday season nears. Life is settling down into a different normal, a new routine of quiet week nights at home, generally solo, sometimes out on an evening doing a thing. Evenings are so short now, it’s rare that I actually want to do something enough to do it on a weeknight. There’s a certain minimum time commitment on the self-care side that is non-negotiable, and most of that sort of thing (for me) I handle at home. I see my traveling partner on weekends, generally, and the time is well-spent, merry, and intimate. This week has been spent mostly, and rather unusually, on sleeping. lol No kidding, I get home, have a quick bite, have a long shower, some meditation, and then crash out. So tired. No idea why, really, and not too worried about it, since I am actually sleeping and getting the rest I clearly need.

autumn leaf

autumn leaf, park bench

Everything seems to fit. No wonder I am occasionally quite cross with myself over having to move! It does feel like “have to”; the commute is not particularly sustainable long-term. I think about that…. This commute is more or less the same length as the commute I made daily for 13 years to a very different job, in the context of a different relationship (an ex) – both of which were much less comfortable or pleasant than those I enjoy now. I guess that’s part of it, though; my own quality of life at home is far better than it was back then, and part of this commute experience is the awareness of the time I am losing neither at work, nor at home, but spent out in the world, on mass transit (where, trust me, humanity is not at its finest day-to-day). Well, “mystery” solved. lol

autumn leaf

autumn leaf, rocks

I find myself thinking over ways to make the commute itself more pleasant, or more productive. The rain hasn’t helped. I can take my Kindle along on the light rail, but on days when it is pouring down rain, I probably won’t pull it out of my waterproof bag. I would contentedly meditate on the train, but the sounds of voices sometimes makes that “difficult” isn’t quite the right word… “not possible” fits better.

autumn leaf

autumn leaves

I smile, sip my  coffee, and notice that I am… bitching to myself. It isn’t helpful or productive to do so, nor is it particularly interesting (to me, or anyone else), and it tends to reinforce negative thinking. I set all that aside, and take another sip of my coffee. I feel my shoulders relax. I let the quiet calm of this moment set in… and then notice I spelled “calm” as “clam”, so I re-read the sentence as letting the quiet clam set in. I have a good laugh over it. There is so much to enjoy in life, I remind myself. I’ll definitely make a point of doing that. 🙂

autumn leaf

autumn leaf, stone

Today is a good day for simple pleasures, moments of great delight, and finding joy in small things. Today is a good day to appreciate what’s right, more than grieving what’s wrong – and to do so at least as often, generally.

My evening out with my traveling partner last night was wonderful. My thoughts come back to it again and again. I take time to enjoy the thoughts, savoring the recollections: the emotional connection, the intimacy, shared experience, the music, and the moments.

The

The lovely evening became a lovely morning.

After affectionately good-bye-ing, I spent the day on taking care of me, and getting things done that are tougher to do during the week. I got what seems to have been a vast amount of laundry done. All the linens got done. All of the everything, I think. 🙂 I spent time meditating. I spent time on crafts, something that I am not often inspired to do; it is a sign of approaching holidays, perhaps, or the thought of packing up the studio for the next move.

The evening feels strangely festive, a fire crackling in the fireplace, and the tiny lights on the wee “gratitude tree” I made this afternoon reminding me of fireflies. I found myself peculiarly inspired, thinking about childhood holiday crafts, and how delightful even the most meager holiday can be, seen through that tender wholesome lens. I spent time recalling very specific ornaments, made with loving hands, that lasted through my recollections of childhood, into my own adult celebrations…ceramic holiday trees with real lights… Christmas balls of styrofoam carefully covered with sequins pinned in place one by one, oranges stuck with cloves in elaborate patterns, construction paper garland made in school, and strings of popcorn and cranberries to festoon outside trees in the yard… other things, too. My memories of Yule holidays, and Thanksgivings look rather like elaborate renderings of Hogswart’s feasts from Harry Potter movies. I don’t mind that, they are among the most wonderfully beautiful of my memories.

The holidays are coming. I have much to be thankful for.

The holidays are coming. I have much to be thankful for.

So, yeah. Today I recreated something I think I recall, though I don’t at all recall where I am recalling it from, or in what context, other than Thanksgiving. It was a whim, and a few moments spent enjoying great delight, in between loads of laundry and other assorted housekeeping tasks. Now and then I gave thought to something I am thankful for, and happily added it to the little tree. Now and then I took time to meditate. I went for a walk. I sat quietly considering things. I happily added all those things to my experience. It’s been a lovely day.

Time well spent, considering many things from another perspective.

I considered many things, from a variety of perspectives. Time well spent.

Tomorrow, I’ll begin again. There is no standing still. Stillness itself is more like a float bobbing on a current, than it is like any lack of movement. Sometimes when I am most “still”, I am also very moved.

Thinking about the future. “Here it comes…“. It is a morning with a theme song. 🙂 It’s also 4:30 am. So… a theme song, and headphones. Again this morning I am thinking about the reality and the fantasy, considering options, considering needs, considering what it takes to take care of me, over time. What do I really need, versus what do I yearn for but can so easily do without? I continue to plan this next move, and in the planning I find my anxiety and stress about it greatly reduced.

I ended the evening last night in great pain. Yoga, physical therapy, acetaminophen, medical cannabis, a hot soak in Epsom salts, meditation… I did the things, it was still a struggle. I managed to avoid reaching for Rx pain relief, though, which is a win. I woke without much pain, in spite of the very rainy morning and the chill in the air. My calves ache from muscle cramps during the night, a weird new development along life’s journey. The thought distracts me with the idea of pain, and I find myself mentally listing all the things that hurt, or are uncomfortable, and before I know it – I’m completely immersed in the experience of pain, and actually hurt more than I did minutes ago. We really do create a lot of our experience with the power of our thoughts and our words.

I take a moment to breathe, relax, and let go of (at least the thought of) the pain. I set a reminder to call my doctor for an appointment to discuss changes in my health, and pain management in the coming winter months. What’s to be done about the neck fracture recently identified in X-rays and a CT scan? That’d be good to know…

Pain again? Damn it. I change the music to something more defiant. Sometimes it helps to tell pain to fuck right off. No bullshit. I have an entire playlist of music with big beats and great grooves that all basically tell someone, or something, to fuck right off with great enthusiasm. Some days defiance is what it takes to move past the pain. I remind myself to be very mindfully aware of the things that don’t hurt, and the moments I am not in pain – however brief. Soaking in those experiences, savoring them, appreciating them fully helps preserve the memory of not hurting, and improves my implicit experience – otherwise, over time, I’d slowly lose touch with having any experience other than pain. This morning, I teeter on the edge of pain; when I am not thinking about it, this morning, I don’t hurt nearly as much.

This morning is a good one for music and dancing, for yoga and another cup of coffee, for meditation (on a timer – it’s a work day!), and for taking care of me. On the other side of the work day… a quiet evening. In between: rain, meetings, spreadsheets, questions, an important task hand-off, deep-diving some puzzles, lunch, thoughts of love, a couple miles of walking, and a new look at a view of the city I love. Each day a new beginning, a step on a much longer journey to becoming the woman I most want to be.

Every day has its own qualities, its own joy, its own suffering. Begin again.

Every day has its own qualities, its own joy, its own suffering. Begin again.

Up at 4 am works for me; I don’t fight it. There’s time for coffee, time for words, time to change the tone of the morning, and regain the leisurely feel of the morning that I enjoy so well. Today is a good day to take care of this fragile vessel that serves me so well. Today is a good day to slow things down a little bit and enjoy the morning without rushing. Today is a good day to embrace what matters most: perspective, mindfulness, sufficiency – and love. 🙂

…Sometimes tears. Sometimes life is a party… sometimes it’s a sadder song. Today I practice because practicing is what it takes, sometimes more than others.

Sad songs ring truer tonight, and not for any obvious reason worthy of such moody bullshit. I sigh aloud in the quiet of my studio. No music playing; I have been yearning for quiet, and recognizing that the stillness I seek has to come from within, I continue to yearn, restless and weary, distracted and discontent. It’s a place. A state of being. One version of now, now and then. In every practical way I am okay right now, even mired in this feeling, stranded just on the edge of tears that have not yet begun to fall.

...What? All I said was "cry me a river"!

…What? All I said was “cry me a river”!

It’s a nothing much type of emotional trap; I feel terribly lonely, but having been thrown back into a lifestyle in which I spend 50+ hours a week surrounded by and interacting with multitudes of other human beings very much live and real-time, I am also feeling desperate to be entirely alone for at least a little while. I miss my traveling partner in a wholly discontented and irritable way, but find myself wondering with what’s left of a meager supply of wry amusement whether I would even be able to enjoy him if he were here right now. I’m irked with the whole mess, and feeling frustrated with myself, with circumstances, with life rather generally – which is entirely so much complete bullshit; I have what I need in life, and a good measure more. I’ve got very little to bitch about, frankly. Small shit… like emotional splinters; I can feel the irritation, the pain, the annoyance – but I can’t quite get a hold of the real issue to put it to rest. Rest. Maybe that’s the thing. I haven’t been sleeping well…

It's always a good time to begin again.

It’s always a good time to begin again.

Fuck the bitching. I’m constantly on about choices and practices and incremental change over time. Some tiny bitter corner within mutters “don’t hold your breath…” I’m in no mood for back chat from the woman in the mirror, tonight. I put on some music, apropos and gentle, and start down my list of crisis management practicesbefore I find myself in crisis.

[passage of time… no handy metaphor comes to mind]

It’s much later. Healthy calories, a tall drink of water, a luxurious shower with a favorite fragrance, warm dry clothes on a cold damp day, some yoga, meditation, a few minutes gathering my thoughts without any other agenda besides me, now, here. Stillness. A lack of distraction. A setting-aside of burdens – however small, however large, however urgent-seeming. Life moves so much faster now that I am back in the workforce. There is a lot about that which doesn’t suit me at all. It is, as they say, what it is. Making time for me is non-negotiable – when I don’t do it, I will pay a price.

I take some time to (be aware of and) respect my own feelings – that’s harder that it seems it could be, sometimes – tonight, for example. I’m frustrated by how easily “other people” (any other people) can change my experience “on a whim” – lack of planning, tantrums, coercive emotional bullshit, changes of plans… Circumstances or will; it doesn’t matter whether the intention is deliberate or even anything to do with me at all, sometimes the outcome affects me without regard to anyone’s specific will or intention. (…And now you know why “consideration” is one of my Big 5 relationship values; because without consideration the damage we do to those around us is frequent, unmanaged, unmitigated, unnoticed, and likely far more significant than we know.)

Closing in on my core needs with real awareness isn’t a comfortable process; some of what I need presents logistical challenges, emotional challenges, and definitely a big scary unsteady pile of verbs. I took time to give further thought to the cornerstones of this life I build for me: mindfulness, perspective, and sufficiency. I’m not sure I’m any closer. It’ll be a lifelong journey. Feeling the feeling of disappointed frustration, tears well up, my chest gets tight, and I feel stiff, as if resisting my feelings – or myself. I breathe deeply. Relax. Several more times. I pace around the apartment a bit, warm coffee mug in my hands. Thinking. Thoughts. The restlessness grows, the mindfulness pales. Shit. Begin again, I think.

Well, sure. This.

Well, sure. This.

Tonight is hard. Some nights are. My accounting of the facts of the day and evening indicate there is nothing really wrong, at all. I am okay right now. Life is pretty good right now. I’m not even in much pain right now. Last night I got the rest I needed. What is there to bitch about? “I feel trapped and pushed around” a tired voice in my thoughts calls back softly, and the tears come. Real or not, valid or not, support by facts or not… feelings. I am alone and safe here, and it is okay to admit that I feel. Sometimes the feelings are not the pleasant lovely ones. This too will pass. Pretty much everything pretty much nearly always does. 🙂

Eventually my tears stop falling. I sigh, and take note of my breathing. I nudge myself back onto healthy practices, and good self-care. I have more awareness of self, and a sense of the “real issues”; my autonomy and sense of emotional safety is feeling threatened by OPD (Other People’s Drama) in relationships that are not my own, and also a little overwhelmed by the amount of time I am having to spend “on my best behavior”, surrounded by people who are relative strangers in the work environment, and on top of that working purposefully to get back on track with a major life goal – a place of my own. (Really my own. Mine. As in – a homeowner. I want the safety and security of having my own place, no landlord, no tenant restrictions, no limitations on design, form, and function – artistically, aesthetically, and practically, actually my own home. A place to retire. To live. To thrive on my own terms.) It’s a lot to juggle to “be there” for people who are dear to me, also take care of myself, also go to work every day and do the things… So much going on. It’s daunting, and I guess I’m not surprised that I’ve hit a wall. I’m very human.

Today is a good day to slow down, listen deeply to my own voice, and take care of me. Today is a good day to love – and make sure some of that love is for the woman in the mirror. Today is a good day to be purposeful about the future, without letting it pull me away from this moment, now. There are verbs involved – and clearly, my results vary. 🙂 Tomorrow will be a good day to begin again.

It’s a quiet morning. I’ve had very little sleep. I went to bed in pain, which is not uncommon in the cooler, wetter, autumn months. I didn’t fall asleep until much later, although I wasn’t restless – just sleepless. Sometime after 11 pm, I finally slept. I woke at 2 am, in pain. More pain? Different pain. Chest pain. I spent some time fussing and dithering over it, tossing and turning, trying to find a comfortable position, and finally giving up on all that, taking a chewable aspirin, and spending what remained of the night meditating.

Hours later, it’s morning, and time to begin a new day. The dull ache I still feel might be my “chest” – or might be my arthritic back being felt differently, because of the peculiar position I’d finally fallen asleep in, sort of curled in on myself. Awkward. The uncertainty causes some stress, but I’ve been here before; the last time I “took it seriously” and made haste to the ER it was nothing. Clearly it’s not “nothing”; I am in pain, and uncomfortable. I feel quite normal, “besides the pain”… only… even that has a certain normalcy in my day-to-day experience. Generally, I can count on most of life’s discomfort to be less than urgent, and so this morning I treat myself gently, watchfully, aware that I am hurting, and mindful that this could warrant further attention. I’m about due for a physical, anyway. I set a reminder to make an appointment.

I sip my coffee contentedly. The yoga this morning helped with the pain. Now I feel that I was probably just “twisted up in knots” more than anything else. I’ll regret the lack of sleep as the day wears on, possibly, but even that is commonplace. I think about a friend going through some changes. She is struggling, and it sometimes feels that I can’t really communicate across the gap in years… How do I share what I’ve learned? How do I say “this too shall pass” in words she will be willing to hear? How do I communicate that so much of the struggling is a choice? We are each having our own experience…and living from such differing perspectives. I make a commitment to hang out, to listen, to be “be here”; we all want to be heard.

My traveling partner sleeps in the other room. I smile, thinking fondly of his presence, his love, our shared journey. Pleasant thoughts to start the day on. Even that is a choice that changes my experience over time. In a life filled with turmoil and chaos, it can be a profound act of rebellion to choose calm, to craft stillness, to cultivate compassion, and even simply to enjoy one quiet moment without guilt, reservations, or rushing it through. It does take practice. 🙂

We become what we practice.

Today is a good day to be the person I most want to be. It takes practice. 🙂

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