Archives for posts with tag: emotional self sufficiency
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Sold As Is

August 10, 2014 //
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Life doesn’t offer any particular promises beyond opportunities, choices, and change, as far as I can tell from my current perspective.  The opportunities aren’t always obvious. The choices are sometimes difficult to accept, to make, or to figure out in advance. Change is, whether we reach for it, or run from it. What we recognize as our opportunities does affect our experience. The choices we make do alter the flow of events. Change… well, change simply is, whether we see opportunities or hurdles, whether we make careful choices, or stumble on our choices through despair, anger, or eagerness. Life is not ‘one size fits all’, even in the most legislative sense; we are each having our own experience, and no amount of law-making can change that.

This is a strange contemplative journey I am on, these days. When I started this blog I felt so lost, and on the edge of discarding this one life I have, in favor of an unknown of a most permanent nature. I can’t always express the difference between ‘here’ and ‘there’, but I am in a very different place in life, and with myself, than I was then. This is not a journey with a destination – that is one piece of learning I feel confident I can count on. The map is not the world. The journey is not about a destination. The metaphor is not the experience. The point of practicing is not mastery – it is the value in the practice, itself, and in the journey from ‘there’ to ‘here’ and beyond.

What a long way I have come in such a relatively short time. 🙂  It’s a moment worth celebrating on a quiet Sunday morning.  How about you? I hope you are also celebrating some worthy moment, great or small. It’s a good day for it.

I found myself feeling a little lost yesterday, as late afternoon gently became evening. Metaphorically, it felt a bit like stopping in the middle of a very long walk, looking forward and seeing only horizon…looking back and seeing…only horizon, and feeling suddenly without perspective, without context, without certainty of destination, or origin, or distance traveled. It was a very peculiarly sad moment, poignant, tired, and a little child-like. I put the day on pause at that moment, and sat down with myself over a nice cup of tea. I paused the music on the stereo, put down the paints, the camera, the clean-as-I-go chores, and took a few minutes to check in with myself.  (That I can do this, and take care of me so easily, is a wonderful change over how I handled challenges or feeling ‘disconnected’ before I started this portion of my journey; it, too, requires practice.) I made time for meditation; there’s no stronger Rx for the pain of chaos and damage, and I found the evening easily restored to a comfortably pleasant experience.

I don’t really think of painting as pushing myself to any sort of physical limits, it feels easy in the moment. When I was finished with the day’s creative work, yesterday, I was in a lot of pain, and feeling pretty ‘old’. My joints ached, and were incredibly stiff. My muscles were sore in unusual places. I felt fatigued. I wasn’t as aware of this physical piece of my experience until after I took a time out for me, and re-centered myself, and re-engaged my experience with greater awareness, and presence in the moment.  The afternoon painting had slowly pulled my awareness out of my ‘here and now’ experience into the strange space between colors and brush strokes, artistically engaged with the new work developing in front of me, but less engaged with the experience of me, in the moment. Clearly, more practice has value;  I am stiff and sore this morning, and extra time with my morning yoga did nothing to make me feel ‘young again’.  I can move with sufficient ease and fluidity to spend the morning painting, however, and that’s more than any Rx opiate could have done for me, and I am grateful.

"Wildflowers" 12" x 16" acrylic on canvas w/glow 2014

“Wildflowers” 12″ x 16″ acrylic on canvas w/glow 2014

I don’t know how many more creative years I have ahead of me. (None of us do.) I want very much to figure out a better arrangement for creative working space. I’d value the luxury of permanent studio space, and while recognizing it as a luxury generally stops me from bitching about not having it, it doesn’t stop me from yearning for it. My always-available opportunity to meditate on sufficiency tends to be my lack of space to paint, how much I want it, and gently and compassionately finding my way to a place of contentment and balance without it. I suspect having space to paint that isn’t ‘weekends only’, or needing to be packed into a couple small boxes and put away when I’m finished, will remain a pleasant daydream well beyond any legitimate opportunity to meet that need. Becoming attached to any other outcome has only ever caused me pain. I’ve come close a time or two, but…

I blink away unexpected tears. Wow. I’m always taken by surprised how much the struggle for space to paint comfortably, freely, an in a comfortable emotional context, is part of my everyday experience, and how much it moves me. This is clearly important to me, and worthy of my self-compassion, support, and attention. Is my near-chronic desire for ‘a place of my own’ that I can count on more about artistic space than personal space? Is the ‘getaway’ I crave so often entirely about creative space and freedom? If that’s the case, do my opportunities, and available choices change? What meets that need?

Well, another Sunday;  one more day to paint before it all gets put away for another time. So often I feel as if I am barely finding a comfortable pace and really exploring inspiration, and it’s already time to put it all away…

Untitled, unfinished background, 12" x 16" acrylic on canvas w/UV and glow.

Untitled, unfinished background, 12″ x 16″ acrylic on canvas w/UV and glow.

Today is a good day to enjoy what I love about who I am. Today is a good day to choose well. Today is a good day to be grateful for opportunities. Today is a good day to savor the moment. Today is a good day to change the world.

 

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Categories Art, art and the artist, Brain Injury, Free Will, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, women, Words

Reliable and Unbiased

August 3, 2014 //
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It would be a humble enough victory to end life described as ‘reliable and unbiased’, but I do think it would stand as a victory of sorts, and a lifetime of which a human being could be proud. I mention it because so much of our information isn’t either of those things, and we are often unaware of it. It isn’t enough to suggest a better source of information; most news sources globally are tainted with bias of some sort. I suspect the best most of us can hope for is to select a broad variety of sources and source material, of a variety of known biases, and do our own homework; fend for ourselves, intellectually.

What value is a lifetime of study without reflection?

What value is a lifetime of study without reflection?

I am, and have long been, the sort of person who will gently inquire as to the source of information, and even ask friends and loved ones to cite their references in a friendly discussion. I try to avoid unfriendly discussions, contentious dialogue, arguments, and hostile diatribes entirely; I have no time to waste with bullshit, or conversation on controversial matters that severs any possible connection with reason, in favor of sound bites, slogans, and invective. I recognize that conversation built on emotional judgments can become arguments quickly, and generally without the possibility of resolution; emotions can’t actually be argued with effectively. Emotions are subjective, in every case, and not subject to proofs. It’s rude to argue with someone’s feelings, and disrespectful, inconsiderate, and diminishing of their value as a being. Like it or not, we are each having our own experience.

It’s also rude to use ones emotions to support a seemingly fact-based position on an issue, because there is no room for discussion; each of us is having our own experience, and we are utterly free to feel however we do about the experience we are having, and to evaluate past experiences in any way we choose. (It may be quite unavoidable.)  It’s sort of a logical ‘dirty trick’, but I doubt most people do it willfully; they simple react to what they read or hear, with the full weight of their convictions, which are sometimes based entirely on their emotions, without any underlying personal experience, study, or vetted information, at all.

It can be challenging to untangle this puzzle. I suggest a bit of study on the subject of E Prime, if you haven’t already. I’m not advocating the full time use of E Prime, myself, although I did for a number of years. I suggest, rather, that understanding the basics of E Prime is illuminating and holds potential to improve general use of language. Admittedly, I also think any excuse to read Quantum Psychology has value; it is a book that holds potential to improve ones thinking in a number of ways.  🙂

There’s something unstated here, that is important [from my perspective]; I’ve had this knowledge a long time. Reason, logical discussion, E Prime, and awareness of bias in language have been part of my experience for a while – and did nothing to ease my suffering, or increase my happiness, contentment, or ability to connect on an intimate level with other human beings. At best, it gave me a glib (and false) experience of certainty that I was ‘more right’ than someone else, that really wasn’t particularly helpful, or accurate, and did little to improve my experience. Being ‘right’ hasn’t turned out to have much value at all.  So…I share these words today with the further observation that although ‘being right’ often feels incredibly important, that hasn’t held up under scrutiny for me, and hasn’t been what brings me contentment, joy, or balance. Certainly, ‘being right’ has not one damned thing to do with love, and loving.

If there is 'just one thing', it is far likelier to be 'about' emotion than reason. It is our feelings that define our experience.

If there is ‘just one thing’, it is far likelier to be ‘about’ emotion than reason. It is our feelings that define our experience.

 

So…I continue, myself, on this journey of studying emotion. Emotional intelligence, emotional intimacy, and emotional self-sufficiency seem to hold more promise on my journey toward wholeness, and wellness, and meeting my needs over time, than my old ally ‘reason’ has ever delivered. Emotion has more to do with the ‘who I am’ pieces of my experience than any opinion on a controversial cultural matter, by addressing who I am directly, instead of reflecting back from current events and filtered through social norms. Emotion is hard sometimes. It is visceral, raw, and immediate. It is ‘unarguable’. It is incredibly real – but so often treated as second-class in our experience, or unworthy of our attention and consideration.  Our emotional experience is ‘reliable and unbiased’ – it is reliably ours, and it is our own real reaction to… something. That’s where it gets sticky for me, and why I invest so much study, contemplation, and mindful observation in the experience of emotion, these days, over reason.  So many times I have been bamboozled, not using reason, or logic, or facts, but by playing on my emotions and relying on my lack of skill, and lack of understanding, of emotion to achieve the persuasive win.

Reading the books does not create change. It is our actions that change us, even the action of thinking differently.

Reading the books does not create change. It is our actions that change us, even the action of thinking differently.

I enjoy logic, and reason. I value them. That hasn’t changed, but I now recognize that my emotional life is likely the much greater part of my humanity, and left unattended I am a savage – however educated I may seem to be.

Life isn't all logic and reason; we are emotional beings. It only makes sense to invest time and study in such an important part of our experience.

Life isn’t all logic and reason; we are emotional beings. It only makes sense to invest time and study in such an important part of our experience.

Today is a good day to feel. Today is a good day to love. Today is a good day for compassion and kindness. Today is a good day to change the world.

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Categories Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, The Big 5, Words

And There Was This One Time…

July 20, 2014 //
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It seems a strange morning to write. My thoughts are incoherent and disorganized. Various ‘reasons’ I’m sure, though I don’t think it really requires an explanation, does it? I’m smiling and thinking how rarely an explanation changes an experience, however it may change my perspective.

I slept restlessly last night. I woke in a state of panic and dread at 1:42 am. I had no recollection of my dreams, and no awareness of any startling sounds or movement in my environment. I still occasionally have night terrors, and having crashed out around 10:30 pm, the timing is right. Knowledge offered no relief from the feelings, but it gave me leverage to use new skills to soothe myself, slow my heart rate, calm my breathing, settle my emotions, and eventually return to sleep. Meditation – the most powerful Rx I’ve ever been prescribed for a whole host of bullshit that challenges me.

The mysteries of the sleeping self are sometimes best left as mysteries.

After waking, dreams fade into the distance.

I woke abruptly, later, and still early (for a weekend day, when I could theoretically choose to ‘sleep in’). I woke shortly after 6:00 am, and feeling uneasy and vaguely pissed-off. I started the morning with more meditation, no agenda, no pressure, and from meditation I moved on to yoga; this gentle routine has become such a feature of my experience that I no longer plan it on my calendar, or set a reminder on my phone, or put a sticky note on my monitor. This slow unfolding of self in the morning is part of who I am now. It’s a nice change. By the time I got to the kitchen to pull a shot of espresso I felt calm, and content. It isn’t always that easy – honestly, the words make it sound ‘easier’ than it actually is. There is an implied commitment to practice, a commitment to self, a commitment to healing – and these require real effort, and a willingness to come back to the practice again and again, in the moment, and the will to face myself in the mirror of my minds-eye in a truly vulnerable and honest way, aware and still, inside myself. ‘Easy’ is not an accurate descriptor.

Practice. It's the practice that is the point; there is no 'mastery'.

Practice. It’s the practice that is the point; there is no ‘mastery’.

I still feel whatever is agitating me lurking in the background of my consciousness, an anxiety that comes and goes, as if it is preparing for some sneak attack, and checking regularly to see if I am still aware. (Personifying my issues isn’t something I take literally – or lightly – but I find that some of my issues are more easily faced when they have, well, faces. lol. 😉 ) I am hopeful that continued practice, presence in the moment, moving through my day mindfully and with great self-compassion will be enough to prevent some nasty attack on my equanimity by my demons. My analyst-brain urgently wants to pick at this sense of unease that returns now and then, to force it to give up its secrets, and tell me ‘why’, but it is a misleading temptation; giving in to it would likely result only in more pain and distress, because most likely there is no ‘why’ at all. Not in my here and now, at least, and perhaps not even in the remnants of last night’s dreams.

When I feel aware of the unease, this morning, I face it. I breathe. I feel myself relax. I move into the moment in a more present way. I take time for a few moments to be still, aware, to be compassionate and show myself kindness; I am human, these experiences of unease are uncomfortable, and result in more emotion on that blue end of the spectrum unless I slow down and take time to care for me. This morning, I have many small opportunities to practice emotional self-sufficiency. This morning life’s curriculum seems to be of the lab variety; hands on, and practicing. I’m okay with that; I expect willful change to require both choice and effort.

The map is not the world. Hell, the map isn't even the journey.

The map is not the world. Hell, the map isn’t even the journey.

Today is a good day to practice taking care of me. Today is a good day for compassion and for kindness. Today is a good day to build equanimity. Today is a good day to change the world.

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Categories Anxiety, Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, Summer, The Big 5

Practices and Building Blocks

July 19, 2014 //
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It’s a quiet day of solitary practice. I have spent it on meditation, and study, mostly. I started the morning with yoga, and later interrupted it with a walk in the sunshine before the heat of the afternoon sets in. It has been supremely chill and I feel calm and balanced. I generally write quite early in the morning, as I sit down with my first – now, only – coffee of the day.  Today is different. It is a different day, so I guess there’s at least that explanation for it. 🙂

Every day an entirely new experience, a fresh start, a new opportunity to wonder, and to grow.

Every day an entirely new experience, a fresh start, a new opportunity to wonder, and to grow.

This morning I am building my joy on mindfulness, perspective, and sufficiency with compassionate acceptance that others are free to do what they will; their choices and their experiences are not mine. It is, so far, quite a lovely day.

Some of it is about choices...

Some of it is about choices…

Some of it is about perspective.

Some of it is about perspective.

What will I do with the remainder of the day? Well, hopefully more of whatever is delivering on this delightful experience of the moment. I doubt it is as simple as the tasks I am starting and finishing; the yoga, the meditation, the walking in the sun, the two loads of laundry, and the careful study and cross-referencing of more relevant material are not actually why I am enjoying such a lovely day. They are simply what I am doing, from moment to moment, as the day progresses. My limited understanding of things, as it exists now, suggests that it is the choices to do these things for me, in the way I am deciding to do so, and with what specific intent, and level of presence and engagement that is the why of my lovely day. As with most practices, I will have to do it some more to be certain, and to find it a reliably repeatable experience. I’m content with putting in the effort. What could be more worthwhile than learning to treat myself well, and enjoy my experience, unless it may be the later ability to extend that courtesy and general good treatment to others, because it is simply my day-to-day experience, and the way I behave ‘as a practice’?

I don’t have that much to say today. The day is mine, and I will return to it.

Today is a good day to be still for a moment.

Today is a good day to be still for a moment.

Today is a good day to practice what works. Today is a good day to deliver on the promises I have made to myself. Today is a good day to cherish the moment, and pause to be grateful for all such moments as these. Today is a good day for right now. Today is a good day for love, and emotional self-sufficiency. Today is a good day to change the world.

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Categories Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Summer, The Big 5, Words

Tears and Espresso

July 18, 2014 //
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I woke gently and feeling decently well. The morning is quiet. Yoga felt good and I’m not in much pain. The pale sky slowly turning blue suggests another lovely summer day, probably hot.  I pulled an exceptional double shot of espresso this morning, rich and dark and topped with a dense crema. I’m having ‘a good hair day’, and the clothes I picked for work fit well and I feel beautiful – which still matters even at 51. So…what’s with the tears?

It started while I was meditating, big hot tear drops began welling up, and sliding down my cheeks. First just one or two, then a torrent, and finally sitting quietly, shoulders shaking ever so slightly, still focused on breathing, tears falling… Why am I crying? There’s no mistaking it now. This is not weeping, although it is not sobbing either. I’m not in hysterics. I don’t feel anxious, or afraid. It’s almost as if…it’s all just ‘too much’, and here are the tears, spilling over because there’s just no more room for emotions to be kept packed away behind a veneer of resolve, control, and ‘appropriateness’. I even ‘feel okay’ inasmuch as I’m not in much pain, slept decently well, and don’t even have the usual headache. Still…the tears fall.

Instead of lashing out at the world like a frightened animal, or panicking and throwing an hysterical tantrum built on anxiety, fear, and assumptions, this morning I simply let the tears fall. Plentifully. Even continuing to meditate. This morning, instead of paying my tears no heed, and saying or thinking something powerfully dismissive like ‘pay no attention to the fluid leaking from my face holes, I’ll get that checked out’, I gave my attention over to my emotions for a moment, still breathing, still present, and compassionate. Something pretty wonderful happened…I feel ‘loved’ and cared for. There’s no one here but me. One partner away, taking care of his own needs, resting and taking comfort among friends. The other, somewhere else in the house, possibly sleeping; it’s very quiet this morning. It’s just me, as I said, and yet… I feel secure, nurtured, comforted…I can do this for me? Myself?

The tears stopped. Meditation continued. A smile tugs at the corners of my mouth now and I feel the small crinkles at the corners of my eyes – the sort I’d expect if I’d been happy all my life – and I feel grateful for this strangely cleansing morning. I still don’t really ‘understand’ the tears, but maybe I was just ‘full up’ with emotions and some had to spill over. It’s been a very trying week so far, and my heart feels altered by it somehow. Being surprised about the depth and richness of my emotional life doesn’t occur to me – then I wonder why. (Go, Brain! lol Can I get just a little constancy, please? No. No, I can not. It’s not how we’re wired, is it? 🙂 )

Interestingly, having finished my espresso and my email, I’m not only no longer crying, I feel just on the edge of … ‘merry’. There’s something important about taking care of my heart, and treating myself well, that was slipping from my grasp, and I think I am understanding more right now than I ever did previously… it’s not just take care of my body well, or maintaining good self-care, and an orderly comfortable environment. Taking care of me also has a specific emotional component that I missed, something very specific; treating myself with real compassion, with acceptance, with kindness.  These aren’t just keywords in a search about meditation, mindfulness, mental health or menopause… They are real experiences, that provided to myself, by me, actually do result in real feelings of being cared for and valued. (Can you see the light bulb over my head?)

Choices along the way change the journey.

Choices along the way change the journey.

This feels good.  It’s a bit as if I’m standing at a point on my path with a sign post… one way leads to greater self-control through rigid habit building, and skilled maintenance of those habits, and a certain tolerance for misery… the other… says only ’emotional self-sufficiency’, leaving me to guess at the nature of the destination.  One direction paved, heavily traveled, landscaped, manicured, well-mapped, reviewed often… and in the other direction, more of a trail, cut into the underbrush, shaded with a dense overhang, disappearing around a bend into the unknown… I recall an oft-repeated quote from a Robert Frost poem than never really resonated with me before. “…Two roads diverged in a wood, and I, I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.”  I look it up and read the entire poem, taken a moment to really savor the relevance in the moment.

Continuing my journey...walking my own path.

Continuing my journey…walking my own path.

Today is a good day for poetry, and a good day to be moved. Today is a good day to treat myself well without reservations. Today is a good day to feel content, strong, and whole – and to enjoy this moment that I do feel that way. Today is a good day to change the world.

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Categories Brain Injury, Free Will, grief, Healthy Living, Love, Menopause, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Summer, The Big 5, women, Words
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