Archives for posts with tag: changes
« Older Entries
Newer Entries »

Change Is

January 18, 2017 //
1

I woke to the sound of rain. It was raining when I dropped off to sleep. The outside temperature stayed above freezing through the night, and is expected to near 50 degrees (F) today. The snow is disappearing. The ice has softened and is giving way to slush. It’ll be a wet, slushy, muddy commute today, quite different than yesterday’s icy cautious trek.

My careful commute still got me to this lovely vantage point.

My careful commute still got me to this lovely vantage point, yesterday. Today it will look different.

Tonight will be warmer. It will be too warm for a fire in the fireplace to give comfort. There will be even less snow, and even more mud. I’m okay with all of that; I may see my Traveling Partner. 😀 It’s been weeks now, and I miss him greatly.

This morning starts in a peculiarly unscripted way. I don’t really know what is to come of the day, not even a little bit. I don’t find that it causes me any anxiety, which is a change itself, from years when the slightest mystery or deviation from plans, caused me incredible stress and anxiety. This lack of plan, this lack of expectation, it’s not even uncomfortable… I’m okay right now.

The world, too, is in a state of change. In a sense, a very real sense, pretty much nearly everything almost entirely always is in a state of change, to one extent or another. Fighting that caused me so much needless stress. Holding the awareness of ongoing change at arm’s length, trying to carve out a moment of stillness by halting change itself, and then feeling the inevitable frustration and disappointment when things did, unavoidably, change, regardless of my wishes… it was… hard. Embracing change, for me, has meant taking that first step again and again and again; being comfortably aware that change is. It has no characteristic that allows for me to avoid it, negotiate with it, prevent it, limit it, halt it… or change the thing about change that is change itself. From there, it’s all planning the Plan A, and the Plan B, and finding the sweet spot in life that allows me to accommodate change comfortably, which has typically involved not getting hung up on expectations and assumptions – or even plans.

Even today; I am hopeful I will see my Traveling Partner. I don’t “expect” it to be today. I don’t “assume” that it will be today. It may be. It may not be. There’s nothing on the calendar that is firm on that topic, as of now, and there are other things going on for both of us… so… I know he is eager to see me. I know I am eager to see him. We miss each other. Our intention is to get together at the next good opportunity, once the roads are safely navigable once again. Good enough. It allows for change to happen quite comfortably, without drama. I like that.

Today is a good day for change. (There’s no stopping change, so it’s quite nice that it’s a good day for it…) Today is a good day to be content with what is. Today is a good day to enjoy this moment, here, whatever it is, while I can. It will change, sooner or later. 🙂

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Anxiety, Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, solo hiking, The Art of Being, winter

What to Do About All of the Everything

September 30, 2016 //
0

Yesterday was too much, a lot too much, and in a good way, which only made it more challenging to process and to wholly enjoy. Looking back on yesterday is still so intensely pleasing that it causes me some measure of actual anxiety, which is simultaneously somewhat amusing, and somewhat irritating, an emotional state of affairs usefully reminding me that I am… if not “unhinged”, potentially at least mildly at risk of having an unexpected emotional moment, inconveniently timed. I’ll be mindful of my humanity today, and treat myself well – gently, and with great compassion. I mean… I’ll make that a thing, in my awareness, and do my best. 🙂 Practices take practice.

Yesterday wasn’t so much fancy, or elaborately planned, or exotic; a party broke out at my place, unexpectedly awaiting my arrival home (surprise!), and to my great delight, all friends who are quite dear to me, my traveling partner, his son, a new personal device (my phone needed replacing, and the new one arrived), and although the din and the fun were exciting – and quite joyfully so – it was a lot to take. There was no place or time for meditation, or a few quiet minutes of conversation with my partner on “date night” – it was a celebration, though, among friends, and I had things I wanted to celebrate, for me, and so – party! Well-timed. Thoroughly enjoyed. I even managed to get to bed at an acceptable time to still get some rest, enough for a day’s work. Sipping my coffee this morning, I have no doubt I am loved, and fortunate to have a fair few good friends.

I sip my coffee. It’s different today. Quiet coffee. A fast efficient coffee maker stands on the counter. The process lacks the… ritual? The meditation. It lacks the meditation and formality of making a good pour over, but it is very quiet in the morning, with my traveling partner and son sleeping nearby. (The burr grinder is quite loud, and making a pour over at 5:00 am is a rude wake up call for those inclined to sleep, and the purchase was timed with sleeping visitors in mind.)

I fuss with the new phone a bit. Every iteration of new device is more… complicated. This one is lavish with options and features and things to sign into, to set up, and to configure. What a pain in the ass – and not something to delegate. Some human beings are very particular (looking your way, woman-in-the-mirror), and attempting to hand-off set up tasks results in aggravation later. This new device is “mine” right now in assigned phone number only; she lacks character, details, and quirks in the set up and configuration unique to my own needs. For one thing; I freaking detest audible notifications of most sorts, that annoying notification light is not welcome either, and I find haptic feedback buzzing my fingertips all the time damned creepy. All that stuff gets turned off on my devices, (I’ll check my phone when I please) and notifications get changed to options that neither irritate my nervous system, nor end up being unnoticeable (I just don’t ever seem to hear some ringtones).  So, it’s days ahead of periodically becoming fed up with some “feature” and “fixing it”, and moving on to the next when that next one bothers me.

Over time, an inanimate device becomes more personal to me. The result is a “phone” (a tiny super computer, really) that is part of who I am on a level that is probably quite inappropriate for my emotional health… it becomes harder and harder to let one go for the next one. This last grieved me – my damned phone almost seemed to “break up with me” in a very troubling way. (Usually, I let the phone go, not the other way around.) I doubt anyone noticed last night, as my old phone was being… de-personalized, when I shook my finger at her in passing and quietly said “I’m so over your bullshit. I’m done with you.” with tears in my eyes. It seemed a proper break up move, and I needed to let her go… It was still so very hard. I loved her.

Today is a good day to let the things go that don’t work – phones, stale metaphors, old leftovers, illusions, assumptions, a poor decision… There are things worthy of being dropped off along with the recycling and the trash. It’s a good day to walk on, from the last phone, the last job, old baggage, previous relationships – why carry all that with me? Sounds easy – it’s not that it isn’t as easy as it sounds; it takes practice, and verbs. Still… It is a new day, and I can begin again. New day… new phone… new camera (phone)… What does the moment hold?

New day. New camera. New settings. Begin again.

New day. New camera. New settings. Begin again.

 

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, grief, Healthy Living, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, The Art of Being

Changing with the Changes

September 13, 2016 //
0

Swim or float. Dance or run away. Choose or be swept away by chance, and change. Things do change. It amuses me that one of life’s constants is change, itself.

I woke early, feeling I’d ‘overslept’, but only because I’m resetting my internal clock to wake more precisely at 5 am daily, in preparation for returning to the work force. (Why is it a “work force“, exactly?) Unsure what woke me, I rose, did my ‘oh crap I’m so stiff’ yoga sequence, then made my way toward coffee. I smile, mindful that my routines are at risk of breaking with my traveling partner staying over. It’s on me to manage my self-care, and ensure I stay on track with fitness tasks, and meditation. It is a comfortable awareness where once it felt only frustrating. I keep practicing. So many things are about the experience of a practice, more than any end result, that I’ve gotten much more skilled at not being invested in a particular outcome, which seems also quite comfortable now.

I think I’m saying I recognize I’m fit to return to work, by my own understanding of my self, on my own terms. 🙂 It’s a welcome observation.

My smile rests comfortably on my face; I smile a lot these days, genuine, natural, unforced. It feels good. Smiles feel good; if the facial expression I’m holding in place doesn’t feel good, it’s probably not smiling, however many teeth I may be showing. lol

Change is a real thing, though, and sweeps in as a storm as often as it creeps  in slowly like the tide. Either way, it’s fairly unavoidable. I expected this would be quite a solitary week. It is a week spent in the company of friends, and with my traveling partner. I expected I probably would not see my traveling partner for many days, from last Thursday, to next Tuesday sometime, but here’s he, now, having his morning coffee…and there’s some chance we’ll dine together after I am off work my first day back, next Monday. Not all the changes thrown my way are of consequence, some are quite wonderful and pleasant, some have nothing whatever to do with me, rippling over my experience like the waves of some pebble tossed into still water. Change is, I have no say in that. I’m learning to swim. Learning to dance. Learning to choose to be changed along the way, with a calm heart, and wide-eyed with wonder.

Each time for the first time, each moment the only moment. ~Jon Kabat-Zinn

Each time for the first time, each moment the only moment. ~Jon Kabat-Zinn

It’s a lovely morning on the fading edge of summer. The days grow shorter, and cooler. The nights are becoming longer, and chilly. I begin the days in darkness now, watching the sunrise as I write is far more rare; it hasn’t yet begun, and I am almost finished here, this morning. The wheel turns.

My partner’s voice resonates with warmth and love (or simply because his deeper male voice sounds so to my ears) when he steps into the studio for a word or two. A welcome interruption… I’m nearly finished here, and the day is getting started. There’s a life to live, and a world to explore! There will probably be changes… where I am an ‘agent of chaos’ in my own life, my traveling partner is as often an ‘agent of change’, through his adventurous spirit and spontaneity. Change is. It’s far easier to surrender to the inevitability of change, and to grow, than to resist it – and to grow in some other direction, with considerably less comfort. LOL 😉

IMAG8161

 

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories autumn, Brain Injury, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Summer, The Art of Being, Words

The Stand Alone Self

June 1, 2015 //
0

I woke very early this morning – 3:08 am. There was no particular reason to wake so early, besides not being asleep anymore. I had crashed for the evening a bit earlier than I have been for the past few days, but not so early that a 3:08 am wake up really amounts to adequate sleep. I’m not tired, though, and after meditation, I let my body call the shots and get up for yoga, and coffee.

This morning I take my coffee with just a hint of sugar (about half a teaspoon) and a splash of half and half (half a tablespoon). The beans are from a local roaster, and I smile thinking of the sunny Saturday visit to the now-nearby Farmer’s Market; it has a very different feel than the downtown Farmer’s Market I have frequented for years, and also quite different than the small one near my former residence. I like them all.

Choices come in many forms.

Choices come in many forms.

 

The time taken making coffee is more mindful, now. Using the pour over method of brewing my morning coffee leaves no particular room to wander off, or to be distracted. I enjoy both the process and the result. I enjoy sipping my coffee, savoring the awareness that each element of this cup of coffee in my hands has been chosen by me quite specifically… The cup is one that I bought shortly after moving the last time. (I had purchased one for each member of the household in white ceramic that says ‘Life is Good!’ – mine is the only survivor.) I selected the brewing method after auditioning several, knowing I would be giving up the espresso machine I had grown so used to. I selected the kettle, the burr grinder, the drip cone – even the filter papers were a choice from among several brands, and types. I selected the beans, and the grind. I brewed it, choosing even the quantity of coffee being used, then chose to serve it with a little cream and sugar. This modest accomplishment is meaningful to me; this cup of coffee is representative of my will in action, and my freedom to choose. This cup of coffee is a small piece of ‘who I am’ and enjoying it says much about the choices I make to savor my experience. It’s a small thing… from some vantage points. It is a fairly big deal for me, in the context of healing and growth, and life’s extensive curriculum on mindful living and good self-care. My Big 5 have a role to play in this simple cup of coffee – because living alone doesn’t take The Big 5 out of the game; I have opportunities to treat myself with respect, consideration, compassion, and in the sense that I put effort into my experience, there is reciprocity when my experience delivers something wonderful back in a ceramic mug at 5:00 am. I am open to my successes, however small. Yep. The Big 5 is accounted for. Clearly, enjoying this tasty cup of coffee contentedly and satisfied that all is well in this moment is a nice step forward in The Art of Being, too. A good start to a Monday, all around.

Today didn’t have to start so easily. I could have chosen differently when I woke. My demons were lurking in the background at the ready, waiting to tell me tales of doubt and fear, waiting to fill me with insecurity and sadness. Which is real? The feelings I didn’t choose, or the feelings I feel now? Would the doubt, insecurity and sadness be ‘more real’ or ‘more true’ of my experience – given that I could likely justify those feelings with thoughts, given a moment to ponder them and become invested – or is this simple delight in a cup of coffee on a Monday morning, and the smile on my face more real and true of my experience of myself, because I am experiencing it? We choose so much of our experience. I am sometimes frustrated when sadness or despair creep over me unexpectedly – I would not choose them willfully, and once I am mired in those blue moods, it can be difficult to remember to choose differently.

Feet up, relaxing - a worthwhile activity.

Feet up, relaxing – a worthwhile activity.

I am quite human. I am enjoying the experience of living alone, and it suits me well. On the other hand, life with my traveling partner has gone a long way to heal some of the chaos and damage that once prevented me from connecting with others in an intimate way, and prevented me from being vulnerable; close contact wasn’t something I enjoyed or craved beyond sex. That has changed, and although I enjoy living alone, I miss hugs hello and good-bye, and cuddling in the evening, and conversation over my second coffee in the morning… Thinking about the loss of those things in my day to day experience quickly brings tears to my eyes – which surprises me every time, because it seems to defy my contentment, and to mock the day-to-day ease of life in this solitary space. I don’t understand the tears, and I find myself resentful of their intrusion, and uncomfortable with myself in those moments. Stray tears interrupt me when I answer the question ‘are you happy?’ – because although I am, I miss love, Love, and contact.  It is an interesting emotional balancing act, and I sometimes wonder if I am ready for this particular piece of life’s curriculum. I sometimes feel a bit like a child in school, having skipped ahead in the book eagerly, and suddenly finding myself in over my head, and not easily able to understand the material in front of me.

“Are you happy?” is a question worth asking. It is a question worth contemplating. When the tears fall, I take time to comfort myself, mostly with a reminder that ‘happily ever after’ isn’t a real thing, and that ‘happy’ isn’t what I have been seeking for some time now. I enjoy it when I feel it, but I no longer pursue it. I am content with contentment, and sufficiency is…you know where I’m going with this… sufficiency is enough. Making ‘happy’ a goal fucked me over way too many times to want to continue to chase that dragon through my remaining years. Happy is a choice, and a moment to savor when I am fortunate to enjoy it – contentment can more easily be built and sustained on good practices.

A few tears do nothing to damage this beautiful life.

A few tears do nothing to damage this beautiful life.

The apartment was warm and a bit stuffy this morning when I woke. I opened the patio door and the front window to let the fresh air blow through while I sip my coffee and write. In the distance I hear the traffic, still sparse in the early morning hours. Rain begins to fall. I enjoy the sound of rain. The apartment has cooled off and the air is fresh and clean. I am content, and calm, and feel at ease with myself and the world – and my choices. I am so close to ‘happy’ I can reach out and touch it, pretty much any time. This maddening brain injury sometimes trips me up; a question about whether I am happy causes me to consider ‘why would I not be happy?’ – launching thoughts of the challenges and losses, and the emotions associated with those thoughts are immediate, real, and visceral, even in the abstract, and I find myself in the strange position of feeling feelings that are not the same quality of ‘real’ as the moment I am living. Hard on me, hard on people who love me – particularly those that pose the question seeking the positives. It is an interesting pile of rubble swept aside as ‘trivial’ among the details of the chaos and damage…looks like it has come time to clean up that corner of my heart more thoroughly, if only to more fully enjoy the delights of this life I am living.

The rain falls. The fresh breezes blow through the apartment. My coffee cup is warm in my hand. I have uninterrupted time in the morning to meditate, to write, and to be.  Lonely sucks – solitude is precious. There are verbs involved, and my results vary. 🙂

Today is a good day for choices. Today is a good day to savor contentment, and a good cup of coffee. Today is a good day to practice the practices that care for me most skillfully, and best meet my needs over time. Today is a good day to love the woman in the mirror. Today is a good day to make eye contact, and share smiles with the world.

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories art and the artist, Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Roses, Sleepless Nights, Spring, The Art of Being, The Big 5, women, Words

Finding Balance, Facing Change

October 2, 2014 //
1

Sometimes it is the smallest details that teach me so much, and so often some choice that is a win, or generally awesome, comes with some interesting opportunities to lose balance, or lose my way. I didn’t last night, and I so easily could have. [envision me, high-fiving myself, here] New practices making a difference.

Under the right conditions, growth happens.

Under the right conditions, growth happens.

Changes, even good ones, can be disruptive for me. I have a frontal lobe brain injury that gets in my way a bit. I build a lot on a handful of habits that ensure I take care of me, and take care of what I am responsible for, and changes sometimes disrupt those habits, and my emotional balance. I won’t add ‘unexpectedly’ because although it once was, it no longer is; I know the risk is there, these days, and I watch for the effects in my experience that are the byproduct of change, and make time to shore up good practices, and get re-balanced. Moving my creative endeavors to the loft doesn’t just provide me with active studio space… it also resulted in the household media and networking infrastructure being in ‘my room’…in a place regularly occupied by someone not wishing to be disturbed, and it was easy for my partners to anticipate that might be inconvenient at some future point – though like a generous child I said “I will share with you!” not understanding that it would inevitably lead to discord. Rather than wait for all that, a wiser choice was made – one that changes my environment, and some small routines. (Oops…changes small routines? Right. I’m on it! Autopilot switched off, and I’m compassionate with myself as small changes swirl around me, probably over days or weeks, and when things settle down I will have new routines to rely on in that space. )

…It will probably be months before I feel like I know how to use the stereo again. lol

It’s a lovely morning. My traveling partner stayed up late with new – and moved – technology; it’s ‘his thing’, and although I expected him to sleep in, he is moving about the house restlessly – he is excited by change, stimulated, and enjoys the fun of it. My generally-at-home partner is readying herself for another work day, and these are not changes that result in turmoil for her. Life and love feel… pleasant. I enjoy this. I don’t need exotic destinations, expensive goods, or exciting tales of adventure to be content, to be happy, to be loved… or to enjoy a quiet morning. Sufficiency. I like ‘enough’.

It’s such a lovely quiet morning I am already well beyond any effect of poor sleep last night, although I didn’t really find good sleep until sometime past 1:29 am, the last time I looked at the clock. My coffee is tasty and hot, and although I am in pain I already know this is the least of it today; I take a moment to reflect on that, and enjoy how little pain I am in right now.

I’m hopeful that the small changes, the ripple effect of taking on the loft as studio space, don’t result in some shit-tastic childish tantrum on another day… so far so good.  I recently read some fairly eye-opening material on child development, discussing toddlers and tantrums. Apparently frontal lobe development and function is a big deal for emotional balance and control; my TBI [frontal lobe] is a big deal in the area of emotional balance and resilience. Yeah. Ahem. [awkward moment with myself reading that and reflecting on what life might be like for the partners of a 51-year-old some-time ‘toddler’ with PTSD… it does not sound like fun to me]. I find myself very grateful that love makes me desirable enough to tolerate my bullshit – and I hope I work through the worst of it in some more or less permanent way before they decide I’m not!

So…a lovely morning. A hot coffee. A good hair day. A day to remember to take the recycling to the curb – and hey; I remembered without a note! (I call that a success!) Some time hanging out with my loves before the work day. Today is a very good day for this to be enough. 🙂

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Brain Injury, Healthy Living, Love, Mindfulness, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, The Big 5
« Older Entries
Newer Entries »