Archives for posts with tag: do your best

I woke later than usual. It was almost 05:00 when I woke. I felt rested and positively merry. I dressed to head out for my morning trek down the marsh trail that circles the nature park.

As I checked the weather, and the time, I see I’ve got a message from my beloved Traveling Partner. The love and concern in his words is clear. He suggests I keep my walk short, maybe local, and proposes I maybe stay home entirely and get my miles on the elliptical, while watching a favorite show. He proposes that we could do something together, later, an idea that appeals to me. I feel loved. I sit with that feeling for a moment, letting it fill my consciousness.

The idea of a shorter walk and better self-care is a tempting idea, for sure, I admit. I really like being out on the trail, though, enjoying the short quiet interval of solitude… and my walks at the nature park put me nearby a favorite grocery store, and I generally stop there after my walk on a Saturday morning… The temperature is mild… I head out, remembering my commitment to one of the grocery checkers to share some items my Traveling Partner made, and deciding to keep my walk short, any way.

The drive to the nature park was quiet. No traffic. I enjoyed it, smiling to myself as I drove with my thoughts, grateful for my loving partner who cares about my well-being, and for the lovely morning. Before I reach the nature park, it begins to rain, first just a sprinkle, then as I reach the trailhead parking, a proper steady rain. I grimace, and laugh, betting my Traveling Partner had checked the weather report more closely than I had.

Now I sit, waiting for a break in the rain. I’m unbothered and relaxed. Hadn’t I already decided to make my walk a shorter one, anyway? No stress. No agitation. Just change. I breathe, exhale, and relax, listening to the rain on the roof of the car.

At its heart, resilience is simply that ability to bounce back in the face of change, uncertainty, emotional disregulation, or even trauma. Resilience needs development, as with things like muscular strength. Specific practices build resilience. Meditation, as a practice, helps build resilience. The practice of “taking in the good” is another that directly builds resilience. Forgiveness, as a practice, is another that contributes to resilience, by limiting how long our hurt feelings or injuries inflicted by another can dominate our thoughts. Practicing non-attachment and embracing related ideas such as impermanence, sufficiency, and building depth and breadth into our perspective on life, generally, are helpful for building resilience.

What’s it good for, though (resilience, I mean)? Why do I put so much value on it? Partly due to this; it improves pain management results.

Resilience let’s us bounce back and carry on, without becoming mired in our pain, sorrow, or anger. Resilience is that quality that gets us quickly past a difficult moment, and on to enjoying the next. Well-established resilience, over time, may become the difference between having some troubling mental health episode or meltdown, and simply acknowledging a difficult experience, dealing with it, and moving on with things calmly. I don’t know about you, but that sounds pretty good to me.

…So I practice…

Sometimes, I fall short of my commitment to one practice or another, but that’s also why I see such things as practices in the first place, instead of tasks to be checked off as completed, or skills to be mastered. Mastery is inconsequential. Practice is ongoing. It is a doing that doesn’t really finish. Each practice with real world value in my lived experience becomes a lifestyle change, over time. Each practice becomes part of my routine, and part of who I am. The result? I am more resilient. It becomes a character trait, and in that regard, it also becomes easier to maintain. Such results don’t mean no practice is required, just that the effort and will involved in the practice itself is greatly reduced. Sometimes, though, I still find myself not practicing some practice or other, through circumstances or forgetting. I’m human.

… I just begin again, and get back to practicing…

The rain stops, but it’s not yet daylight, and I’m not in a hurry. There’s no need to rush my walk, or hurry home to barge in on my beloved’s quiet time over his coffee first thing. I sit quietly a little longer. Daybreak soon, and I’ll walk the short loop, and watch the sunrise – then, I’ll begin again.

…It is a good day for self-care.

The days have been sort of tumbling by in a blur. Some days I am so thoroughly exhausted by day’s end, I fall into bed feeling spent, and sleep overtakes me quickly. Other days, I make it to the end with enough left in the tank to prepare a pleasant meal, and even to enjoy it, and clean up afterwards. Regardless, and seemingly without any direct connection to my relative state of fatigue, I’m looking back on this blur of days and nights. The feeling of constantly scrambling to gain traction on a slick floor, or of treading water in the dark, describes it best, I guess.

I sigh to myself as I walk this trail in the darkness. Walking in the dark isn’t my preference, but it’s the time I have for it. Not walking isn’t an acceptable option (for me, in my opinion). There’s a metaphor in that, or perhaps a lesson.

I get to my halfway point before daybreak. No surprise there; I got an early start. My left hip aches, and it feels like arthritis pain. I frown to myself. I guess it could be worse. I distract myself , to avoid dwelling on pain. It isn’t helpful (at all) to let my pain occupy my mental space for long. Giving it that much attention tends to make it feel worse. I breathe, exhale, and relax, and redirect my attention to the strangely pink night sky. The clouds are illuminated by the community below, in the distance… but why pink? I think about it pointlessly awhile longer. A snapshot taken with my cellphone does not capture what my eyes think they see. There’s probably something worth reflecting upon in that experience, too.

…The pain I’m in persists in distracting me. I persist in letting that go…

I can’t make myself look at the news today.  It’s not worth the stress to be informed about the latest new way our government has found to cause needless suffering, or to find out how else government insiders and Trump cronies are picking our pockets to fill their own bank accounts. I don’t need to be told that another billionaire grifter or criminal has been pardoned; this is the era we are living in. It’s pretty fucking horrible. Reading more details about the same old shit doesn’t make it easier to accept – and not reading about it doesn’t stop the terrible degradation of our democracy, as it spirals into authoritarianism. If you have the means, it’s probably a good time to get out, and go somewhere safer.

I sigh again, and realize I was holding my breath – or at least not breathing. I sit for a few minutes, just breathing, and focused on my breath. It is too easy to let shit get to me, to let the stress and anxiety seep into my consciousness and wreck my mood. I inhale the mild autumn air, filling my lungs with it. I exhale, and let the stress leave my body along with my breath. No, it’s not “easy”, but it is a practice that can be practiced, and with practice it becomes easier over time. After some while, it becomes really effective. (Think in terms of months and years of practice, though, not minutes.)

I meditate, watching the treeline for the first hint of daybreak. I breathe, exhale, and relax, holding myself in this present moment. At least for now, there’s just this timeless moment of presence. I’m okay with that, it’s a pleasant moment, and for now I feel easy, and my heart is light.

Over the past 12 years of this blog, I’ve come so very far! I’m grateful. I’m not certain I could have endured the world as it is, where I was with myself, then. I was thoroughly mired in chaos and damage, and there was a long journey ahead of me before that would change in a notable way. I took it in steps, though, and I just kept at it, practicing practices, and walking my own path. I’ve learned some things along the way, about life, about love, and about finding meaning and a life worth living. It has been very much worth it.

So, no doom scrolling this morning, no news feed, just a woman, a trail, and a moment of pleasant solitude before dawn on an autumn Friday morning. Later, there is work to do, and there are errands to run. I’ll do my best with all of that, and that will have to be enough. In the meantime, I’ll enjoy the moment I’m in. Later, I’ll begin again.

I’m grateful for this pleasant moment, here, now… It’s enough.

I get it. Maybe I even read that same headline and had the same astonished, frustrated, dismayed, disgusted, horrified, or flummoxed response.

Was it billionaire cash grabs? Was it DHS blandly disavowing any knowledge of pregnant women in custody being mistreated? Was it another report of masked agency thugs harassing citizens? Was it the thoughtless narcissistic destruction of a historical treasure to build a monument to a tacky tasteless display of personal wealth? Was it news that yet another powerful crony of Trump is directly profiting from flouting ethical rules? The high cost of healthcare and groceries? The government shutdown? Corporate data centers driving up the cost of residential consumer power bills? I get it. It’s all pretty g’damned horrible and disappointing (and worse)… but… we’ve got to breathe, and we’ve got to practice skillful boundary-setting and good self-care to get through this absolute fucking disaster. No kidding. Breathe. Please. (And I remind myself, daily.)

…Take a moment, and do the best you can to calm yourself, and find perspective…

…Maybe put down the news, or your doomscrolling device of choice…

Don’t mistake me for saying “be silent and endure”, that isn’t my message at all. Protest. Resist. Write to your elected officials, even if you suspect no one is listening. Take action, when there is action to take. Speak truth to power. Don’t let the enemies of democracy win because you forfeited the game! But… take care of yourself and your loved ones, and be kind and considerate to your fellow travelers. We’re all in this together. A lot of people are suffering needlessly, all around us. Don’t add to the misery.

Self-care and good mental and emotional health matter even more in difficult times.  Practice the practices that nurture and heal you, lift you up, and spread joy in your circle of influence! Share what’s going well in life at least as often as you bitch about everything going wrong (more would be good). Maintain balance and perspective, and stay mindful that change is, and we are mortal creatures. All of us are mortal, including the monsters among us. Nothing is permanent , not even this freak-show shit-storm of hate and incompetence that is the current US administration. This too will pass. Do what you can to get through it with your soul intact.

Take a moment for something beautiful.

Sometimes when things are hard in the world, the stress seeps into my consciousness from all around me, and the tiniest details of my own experience become subtly tainted with it. My PTSD symptoms, generally pretty well managed these days, flare up unexpectedly. My sleep becomes routinely disturbed as if I’d never had the years of therapy, of practices, of healing, and of good sleep hygiene that once resolved that problem almost completely. My degraded sleep leads to cognitive impairments due to fatigue, and emotional volatility increases with my frustration with myself, and my dread of conditions in the world at large. The stress piles up, each moment of panic, of dread, of frustration, of sorrow, of anger, adding to a haystack of poor mental health and degraded cognitive faculties that leaves me even more vulnerable to spiraling out of control into despair or rage. Yeesh. Human primates are fucking complicated. (…Where is that damned owner’s manual… Maybe a handy user’s guide…?)

I breathe, exhale, and relax. A single glance at the news headlines was enough, and I set that shit aside. The blend of regurgitated outrage, sycophantic dick-sucking, and sponsored content is more than disappointing enough viewed through headlines – I surely do not need to read further. Not today. Today, I’ll take care of this fragile vessel.

I slept through the night last night, and woke feeling more rested than I have in days. I’m not in as much pain, either, though enough to signal coming rain, probably in the next day or two. I allow myself a moment of amusement that my aching bones predict the weather. I made a point of bringing a bottle of water along with me this morning, rather than allow myself to drink coffee all day long. I make a point of taking my medication on time, and also my vitamin supplement (which I probably skip too often). I didn’t rush through the morning, taking my time as I dressed, and allowing myself to be less ludicrously vigilant about small noises (which often results in some moment of clumsiness and much more noise). I breathe, deeply and exhale completely. I check in with myself… jaw clenched? Relax that. Shoulders tight? Relax those too. Detail by detail, I make room for self-awareness. I breathe, exhale, and relax. The day begins in an ordinary enough way, and the commute was easy.

I stretch. Yawn. Sip my coffee – and begin again.

The morning was clear and cold, as I left the house. The sky was flecked with stars and the waning moon peered down at me from above my quiet neighborhood. By the time I reached my halfway point on this morning’s walk, a dense mist was gathering, and I am now wrapped in fog. Change is.

I sit quietly with my thoughts. I meditate. I exist. The moment feels timeless and static, fixed in place, and unchanging. It is an illusion. Moments are brief. The mist gets thicker, as the clock ticks onward.

Can a picture truly capture a moment and hold it still?

I sigh to myself, filling my lungs with the cold morning air and exhaling, adding the mist of my breath to the morning fog. Nice moment, this. I could almost imagine that the world is at peace, that people feel safe in their communities, and that the world is a rational, ethical, nurturing place…

I haven’t looked at the news today. I don’t plan too, beyond what may be shared to me by my Traveling Partner, or in the course of the work day. Very little changes there, and between the atrocities of foreign genocides, global human rights abuses, and the horrors of American governance in the current administration, I have no stomach for it, and no need to see the same terrible news every day. It isn’t new at all. That, and then also the ads and the ever devolving quality of the writing, generally. Omg, AI “writers” are hilariously bad, and the prevalent errors and outright falsehoods are… unacceptable. So…no. Not this morning. I’ll just sit here, enjoying my peaceful morning, feeling safely wrapped in the mist.

I sit thinking about it being “Banned Books Week“. Good week to buy real books by human authors – particularly any of the many excellent books that piss off the government. It’s not healthy for our freedom to permit someone else to tell us what we can’t read. I’ve got a lovely long list of books I’d like to read… The holidays are coming. 😁

Daybreak comes gently. The fog seems to take on a hint of blue. My mind already feels “too busy” and my calendar “too full” – but it is an ordinary work day, and I’ve actually only got one errand to run. I slept well and deeply last night, but somehow already feel tired almost to the point of exhaustion. I find myself missing the company and laughter of old friends, and the wise counsel of my Dear Friend, and my Granny. We are mortal creatures. The clock is always ticking, and the grains of sand in the hourglass are finite

I breathe, exhale, and relax. Workers begin arriving to start their day in the vineyards alongside the trail. It was inevitable; it is time to begin again.

It isn’t personal. Even when it feels personal, and pretty much whatever it is, it isn’t actually personal.

That car that cut you off in traffic, or “brake-checked” you on the highway? Not personal. That other driver is having their own experience.

The rude barista, check out person, or frosty receptionist? It’s not personal. They’re having their own experience.

Random moments of unpleasantness and stress day-to-day are so incredibly unlikely to be “about” us in any way. Even the targeted attacks of bullies have more to do with their poor character and mental health than anything to do with their victims. We make shit personal in our own heads. We “take” shit personally – and there are choices and verbs involved. We could choose to practice non-attachment and refrain from centering ourself in someone else’s experience. One of the hardest things for me to learn has been how very little of what is going on, even in my own relationships, has anything to do with me, personally, at all. It’s actually a disturbingly impersonal world.

An autumn morning at daybreak, a new day.

I sit at the halfway point on my morning walk, perched on a bench under a cloudy sky that hides a full moon. Feels like it might rain… but the air doesn’t have that scent. The air smells of autumn, fallen leaves, the persistent dampness left behind in shady places by last week’s rain.  It smells, too, of distant wildfires, and nearby chimneys. I’m cozy in a new cardigan, chosen for fit, price, and appearance, that turns out to also be quite comfy and warm. “Unbothered”, I think to myself when I seek to define my feelings this morning.

My night seemed brief and restless. My Traveling Partner had a difficult night struggling with some sort of unwellness. I woke from a deep sleep at his vexed exclamation, and for the next four and a half hours snatched whatever brief naps I could between his bouts of illness and physical difficulty. Was he “keeping me awake”? Not exactly. Partly, sure, and not through any intention – noise is noise. That surely wasn’t personal. The rest was me; half awake, alert to hear him if he called out to me, concerned, wanting to be available and ready if he needed me.

I woke minutes ahead of my alarm. I thought I’d turned that off to get some little bit more sleep? Apparently not. Didn’t matter, I woke early anyway. I was groggy and stupid, but also more concerned about slipping away quietly and letting my beloved get the rest he needed.

My thoughts wander back to a couple nights ago when he angrily chastised me for clearing my throat in an adjacent room and preventing him from sleeping. That also wasn’t personal – just irritating; I had “swallowed wrong” and was choking a bit on saliva that had gone down my trachea instead of my esophagus, making me cough and clear my throat several times, in a few short minutes. I had expected some amount of concern or sympathy, and feel a bit hurt looking back on that, as I compared circumstances. It wasn’t at all personal, though. We are each individuals having their own experience. Things aren’t always “about” us, even when we’ve centered ourself in our own experience, or lack understanding of some other. It feels a little unfair, but it’s not about that either.

I hear my Dad’s voice in my memory, “life isn’t fair,” he often said, not bemoaning the fact, just pointing it out. I guess that’s true… but “fair” is a helpful goal and “perspective” is a useful tool.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. Self-care is going to matter sooo much today. I’m starting the day tired, and the day ahead will be a busy one. I struggle to recall any tasks or errands I may have committed to beyond the work day. I feel certain there was something… but it evades my recollection. Fatigue reliably impairs my cognitive function before it really shows. I remind myself to slow down and be patient with myself, and to set clear, firm boundaries, and use expectation setting to support my practical limitations.

… I wish I didn’t have to work, but wishing is not an effective practice…

None of it is personal. Humans being human. Circumstances. Choices. Time and timing. I take another deep cold breath of the autumn air as daybreak creeps up on me. Chilly fingers yearn to find warmth and comfort in deeper pockets than these… and even the stupidity of tiny pockets on women’s clothing is an impersonal vexation. I let it go. I chuckle to myself; I let a lot of things go. I’m generally happier for it. Non-attachment is a powerful practice.

I sigh and watch the clouds overhead, shifting and roiling across the sky. It’s already time to begin again. I’ll do my best.