Archives for posts with tag: choose your adventure

A steady rain falls this morning. I woke a number of times during the night, and it was raining then, too. My dreams were lively, rich in surreal detail, and graphic, but lacking in emotional content. However grim the imagery was, I felt nothing; my brain was just “taking out the trash”, clearing buffers, wiping away bits and pieces left behind that serve no useful long-term purpose. No nightmares, just data processing in moving pictures. It’s important that our consciousness be ready for a new day, it only makes sense that while I sleep, my brain is busy in cycles, resting, getting caught up on things, resting more.

(Note: I am not a sleep scientist, this blog post is not science, my subjective experience has not been rigorously scrutinized and peer-reviewed, following years of replicable research. There are people doing those things and they are very much worth reading! I’m using words, to share my subjective experience, my own thinking, lacking in any hardcore vetting against known science. My writing may serve someone a useful purpose, be helpful, or an entertaining read, but please don’t settle on me as settled science; do your homework. Use your critical thinking skills. Walk your own mile.)

I woke feeling more than usually rested. I woke feeling more rested yesterday, too. Both mornings follow days with much less involvement with my handheld device, my computer, or the internet, generally. I feel less distracted moment-to-moment. I feel less emotionally volatile. I am less easily frustrated. I feel more content. I find myself wondering how many generations of saturating all-day computer use human beings will commit to before becoming actually able to fully multi-task their consciousness, for real? (No, you can’t. There is science on that.) No doubt over time our consciousness will change with the tools we use regularly, we are adaptable. We become what we practice. Epigenetics is real. Our children’s children will have different characteristics than our Great-grandparents did. Some of those differences may indeed be cognitive. More to the point in this moment, though, is that setting aside the complicated dense multi-channel continuous streaming information into my consciousness for a couple of days has had real value on my overall state of being. I feel more relaxed. My rest is more restful. I feel calmer, less anxious, more easily able to “hear myself think”. I think I may have gotten more done, too, using my time more efficiently, and spending no minutes staring into a repeating feed full of copies, memes, and reshares for unmeasured hours of the day.

A favorite trail was flooded. It was necessary to choose another way.

A favorite trail was flooded. It was necessary to choose another way.

The rain continues to fall quite steadily. It rained yesterday, and I enjoyed the short hike I took through the park in spite of it. Time well-spent, in the wind and weather, breathing the fresh air, seeing the trees tossing in the wind, and hearing the water birds on the marsh calling to each other. This morning the rain is falling harder, enough harder that some of the fun of hiking would be washed away in it. So… perhaps not this morning…

Favorite places for a moment of meditation are flooded, too.

Favorite places for a moment of meditation are flooded, too.

I’ll spend the day taking time for being here, now, and enjoying (or enduring) what is real, and live, and in front of me. Tidying up a bit more. Taking out the trash, the recycling, and maintaining order. Those are useful practices, too. I have found that the state of order – or disorder – in my environment reflects the state of order – or disorder – in my internal world, as well. My consciousness seems only ever as ordered as my environment. Keeping my head, minding my emotional wellness, tends to result in more will to keep my home tidied up and very neat. Keeping a tidy orderly household seems to promote and support my cognitive wellness. I don’t know what the science says about all that; my experience confirms it for me, and as “ways” go, it works for me. 🙂

Today is a good day for practicing practices. Today is a good day to enjoy the woman in the mirror. Today is a good day to be open, to be kind, to be aware – and mindful that change is. It may change the world – we have that power. 🙂

 

 

…Some journeys we don’t share so much…maybe not at all. Some journeys begin together, and end alone. Some journeys we don’t particularly want or need to share, but find ourselves in the company of others along the way. Even love works in this way; sometimes shared, sometimes less so. Sometimes love is convenient, sometimes it isn’t.

I sip my coffee this morning, thinking about love…and thinking about solitude. It’s an interesting private dialogue with the woman in the mirror. This morning there are no tears, but also no noteworthy joy. I exist in this moment, with coffee, without company. I’m okay solo. I miss the immediate presence of love. These things exist together, and dissecting them does not improve my perspective on my self, or this moment, and instead I choose to simply be, to comfortably exist with myself, without judgment – without questions (at least for now).

One of the challenges life’s curriculum offers me, personally, is the chance to accept on a deeply compassionate and understanding level that I am not always who/what can provide what my partner needs in a particular moment. “Too tired” for one activity (with me) may not be “too tired” for some other activity, with some other human being. “Too busy” to cross town to hang out with me, to make love, to share time, may not be “too busy” for adventure elsewhere, with others. This isn’t a criticism, and when partners choose something (or someone) other than each other, that’s not a criticism, either.  Giving each other room to grow, and to live our lives fully, requires that we also be open to it when our partners make the choice to do so. There are practices involved; it’s easy to become swamped by insecurity and doubt, or for emotional needs left unmet (and undiscussed) to fester. Taking my partner’s fun elsewhere personally would quickly result in feeling deeply hurt to be “left” alone – in spite of enjoying my solitude, and choosing it. It’s a puzzle best solved with open communication, compassion, loving kindness, self-awareness, and being very present and connected when we spend time together… and also being very much present with myself, when I am alone. That one’s harder. 🙂 There are verbs involved. My results vary.

I ended the day yesterday with a migraine. That sucked. Getting there wasn’t bad… I enjoyed a lovely breakfast with my visiting friend and my traveling partner (who are also friends), before we each went on with our own days. I hung out awhile with friends closer to home afterward, for a short while, before spending a considerable time quietly at home tidying up. That doesn’t sound at all adventurous, I know, and it wasn’t… but it was quiet, gentle time, simply being. I hadn’t actually been fully alone in days, almost a week. I didn’t even turn on the stereo, so deeply satisfying the silence seemed to be. Some hours later, the headache arrived, and some visual and auditory weirdness, along with the nausea. Nothing much helped, besides more quiet, and some darkness. Reading made me seasick. Any sort of video screen was entirely out of the question. I laid down with my headache in the darkness and just rested. Morning arrived – no headache. I’m happy about that. I don’t have migraines often, and I’m happy about that, too.

Today? I’ve no idea what today holds, other than one scheduled appointment right at noon time. The forecast suggests a hot day. I find myself wishing my appointment time were earlier… the sort of wishing that can quickly become irritation and discontent, the kind that rests in my thoughts as a sense of dissatisfaction. I breathe, and let it go. When that actually works well, I feel a certain sense of wonder and achievement; it’s been a big deal to learn to choose with greater care which thoughts to give substance, which to let go.

I remind myself the migraine last night may have the potential to affect my mood today, and promise myself very attentive self-care. It’s a commitment to doing my best, and also a commitment made with real affection. I’ve come along way with the woman in the mirror, and with some practice(s), we’ve got this. 🙂

Today is a good day… for… something. I’ll figure that out as I go along. I’m having my own experience… there are verbs involved. 🙂

…isn’t what I thought I said. I woke up with those words in my head, and the soundtrack to my dreams still playing in my head. My impression was that I was the source of the music, myself. Funny how the bits and pieces of my days fills my dreams – or at least fills in the details, and provides a bit of familiarity to the strangeness.

I spent Sunday practicing on my bass guitar, taking breaks each time my forearms began to ache again. I’d watch an episode of Cowboy Bebop, which has theme music in a genre I really enjoy, musically. Sometimes I’d fill a break with live performance videos of bands with great bass players. Saffron Monkey. The Brothers Johnson. Stanley Clarke. There are a lot of amazing bassists. It’s sometimes hard to get a good look at them; most of the focus is on the lead singer, lead guitar player, or other ‘showy’ elements of a planned performance. I enjoyed the day filled with music. I kept coming back to the Seatbelts, the source of the day’s inspiration.

I found myself generally disinclined to be part of the everyday fuss and bother of the media outrage machinery, and although I quickly skimmed the headlines for the day, early on, I quickly lost interest and set it aside. It was enough to sass the headlines to myself, for amusement. I mean, seriously? It’s not likely there is going to be ‘real’ actually new information in most articles headlining today’s news, either… shall we take a look together?

I choose a mainstream retailer of information and head to the home page. “Baton Rouge Bloodbath!” – nope, yesterday’s news right there. Moving along… “7 Things You Need to Know”… about the Republican convention? I think not. That’s not news, it’s click bait. lol If I’m Republican, I already have whatever information is presented, probably days ago. If I’m a Democrat, Independent, or other sort of voter, well, I don’t actually care about the Republican convention at all. It’s a performance piece. “Obama Pleads for Unity” – with a very sorrowful, somber picture. Well, that’s part of his job. Done. Next? “Turkey Detains 6000 People” Yeah… messy when a coup attempt fails. Things are hard over there. Will I get the best perspective from a news retailer seeking ad revenue, clicks, and viewers with their highest priority on gross margin? Probably not. Might have to wait for the history books before a broad global perspective is really available… or wait for Noam Chomsky to write about it. Civil war is ugly stuff. I know that, and for now that’s enough. “Donald Trump Floats Grotesque New Conspiracy Theory About Barack Obama” Huh. They almost got me with this one – maybe because they used more words, giving the impression this really matters, but truthfully? Does it? I mean… do I even care what some rich nut bag makes up on the fly to smear peers or competitors? Don’t I just play the game by even taking time to read the story? I move on, with a hint of a smug smile; I beat the game on this one. I go down the list of headlines, finding nothing of real substance worth my attention [at least not in the presented format, by the providing news source]. Why should I get all churned up over bullshit first thing in the morning? Seems silly.

I watch the neighborhood cats prowl the edge of the meadow. After weeks of laughing at their efforts, I saw one catch some small mammal down in the grass the other day. I stopped laughing at them. Pampered predators, surely, but quite lethal. Cats, I mean, not people. (Well… yeah. People, too. We’ve a way to go before we’re really any more civilized than our less talkative cousins.) Now I watch the cats prowling their wilderness for exotic treats with greater appreciation; they just keep at it. Most days, no cats [visible to me] catch anything at all [that I see]. That doesn’t ever seem to stop them. I smile. I have time for some bass guitar practice before I head out for the day. I think I’ll do that.

Is it ever really “too late” to begin again? If we become what we practice (and experience suggests we do), isn’t the choice to practice something that makes us somehow ‘more who we are’ a good step on the journey, regardless what other direction we may head in life?

Choose. Begin again.

Choose. Begin again.

 

I slept late this morning. I had awakened during the night for no obvious reason, and woke breathless, heart pounding, in the grip of anxiety. I forgot to take it at all personally, or to read anything whatever into it, these were simply sensations I woke with. I got up. Opened some windows to let cool night breezes blow through the apartment. I took a seat on my meditation cushion, and gazed into the night sky, obscured by clouds that roiled and shifted, a kaleidoscope in shapes and shades of gray. The world was very quiet. Some time later, apartment cool, heart soothed, content and comfortable (except for this aching knee), I returned to sleep quite easily.

Moments are neither magical nor cursed, not really. They are what I make of them, myself, with my choices, my perspective, my baggage… What I do with any given moment is what makes the moment what it seems to me to be. That probably seems crazily obvious. I need the reminders, sometimes. 😉

Yesterday, after plans to hang out with my traveling partner fell through, I found myself inspired artistically, and spent the afternoon painting. My knee is not really happy with me this morning, and I pay that price in continued pain, instead of feeling it eased today. It’s peculiarly a price worth paying, although a wiser voice in my head suggests that had I approached the work differently, I could have also taken better care of this knee while I painted. Choices. Practices. Verbs. I keep at it, and continue to improve on how I approach such things. I don’t get much chance to be smug about successes…if I stop practicing, I generally forget fairly quickly how I was managing something. LOL These days that’s more a humorous inconvenience than any reason to treat myself badly.

I find myself thinking about the vast potential that exists in life – in my life – and how little of that potential I’ve tapped, even though I’ve been wandering around for 53 years on this gigantic jawbreaker hurtling through space. There’s so much more. It’s really no wonder life can seem so busy, or overwhelming, or mystifying. I’ve spent most of my life just bumbling along from one moment to another, occasionally doing some things (or people) I’ve really enjoyed, but without any really clear plan (or map)… and there’s so much to do and learn! I’m grateful there’s no expectation that being intelligent, well-read, or entertaining to know, requires me to learn everything, because… it’s not really possible. At all. Much of what I think I know, when I reflect on it, actually amounts to acceptance of what some other person has discovered, proven, noted, analyzed, stated more clearly, theorized, or observed, and written down, considerately enough, for the rest of us to benefit from. It gets called ‘education’, and I suppose it serves me well enough. I’d love to see particles in motion… I’d love to hear now-dead languages spoken by native speakers… I’d love to visit all the exotic remote places of great beauty, wonder, historical significance, and mystery, in person… Ah, but it’s not about time, or even money, in so many cases the things I have the good fortune to learn about don’t even exist in this moment, at all. How fantastic that I can learn about these things!

Human experience holds so many potential choices, options, circumstances, and perspectives… live a million lives and I would not have lived them all. There are no duplicates. There are no ‘do overs’. There is this fragile vessel, this mortal lifetime, and this very long and varied menu of choices and possibilities.

What matters most? Is it a diagnosis I don’t yet have? Is it a job I no longer work, or am not yet working? Rent? Bills? Housework? Is love what matters most? Or is it… now? This moment? This one pin point in time that gives me the power to choose my adventure?

Choose. Begin again.

Choose. Begin again.

My morning began quite gently with the rare treat of sleeping in. I emptied the dishwasher while water boiled for coffee. I made a wee celebration of turning the page on the notepad I use for my ‘to do’ list each day, flipping the page over boldly, fully disregarding anything remaining on yesterday’s page (at least for now), and then cheerily walking away from it without writing a single thing on the blank the page. Yesterday wasn’t a bad day at all – it’s still over. Entirely past. Done. Behind me. I’ve turned the page. 🙂

What's left of yesterday? Photographs, memories, and change.

What’s left of yesterday? Photographs, memories, and change.

Today my intention is to keep things simple and enjoy the day. I have committed to some general tidying up, studying, and sorting through my thoughts on a topic that inspires me both as an artist and as a writer. It may be days or weeks in the making, which feels… amazing. It is a topic that pushes me to think differently about connection, intimacy, individuality, identity, interdependence, image, authenticity, and where my value as a being truly lies.

What exactly is an 'individual', anyway?

What exactly is an ‘individual’, anyway?

This seems a nice morning for thinking thoughts, taking notes, making observations, and for balancing presence with insight gleaned from experience over time. (Caution: there are no fewer verbs involved when the work we do is within ourselves!) I enjoy intimacy, connection, communion with others; I am a social creature. I am also an emotionally injured human being. Emotional injuries are those that, whether they are also physical injuries or not, hit us in the deep down places where our being resides, seemingly safe. The result? Mental illness. Post traumatic stress. “Anger management issues.” Difficulties connecting, attaching, and being intimate. Difficulties being comfortable, trusting, being social, sharing, cohabiting. Hurt feelings. Drama. Weirdness. Strange negative assumptions and expectations. Fear. I mean…maybe not all of those, for everyone, every time, but… yeah.  The effort to clean up the chaos and damage, find a better way to live, maybe even find a way to actually thrive in life… it’s slow going, not easy, requires practice – a lot of it – and verbs – too many. (Totally worth it.) The point I think I’d like to make is that sometimes it feels as lonely and distancing to be working on cleaning up the chaos and damage, as it does to have it in the first place. That’s okay – it’s a bit of a solo hike, sometimes. It sort of has to be. 🙂

Look closer. How many individuals are in this picture?

Look closer. How many individuals are in this picture?

It’s reassuring to consider that I’m not really in this alone. I’ve felt so alone sometimes. But… Really? I’m not – it’s an illusion, one that is, itself, part of the chaos and damage, isolating me and suggesting I am too broken to be accepted as a human being, too broken even, perhaps, to be loved. My results vary, and there are verbs involved, and sometimes it seems damned slow going – but I’m learning to go beyond being warily, passively open to connection (hoping for the best, certain no good can come of it), to being willing to reach out, to actually being open. It’s a very different thing. To be open requires a measure of vulnerability and authenticity that can feel pretty scary… What if it isn’t reciprocated?? I find some solace and security in the awareness that individuality, however defined, isn’t sufficient to fully undermine how interconnected we also are as creatures; we are not alone. I’m okay with that. Sometimes it’s nice to share the journey – it’s a long one.

I am my own cartographer, keeper of the list, and adult-in-charge, in this life that is mine.

I am my own cartographer, keeper of the list, and adult-in-charge, in this life that is mine.

This morning, I am alone with my time and my chores. Later? So not alone. 🙂 It’s ‘date night’, and I’ll spend the evening in the charming company of my traveling partner, filling my moments with love and laughter. The time has come to set aside the morning in favor of the day… Today is a good day to pause and enjoy progress over time, and to appreciate and enjoy the woman in the mirror.