Archives for posts with tag: experience

Contemplating a Blank Page

August 16, 2018 //

My coffee is tasty. The house is comfortable in the pre-dawn chill of a summer morning. The air quality is still pretty poor as smoke collects in the air from distant fires. My mind is more or less… blank. I’m not quite awake yet, at all. I take another sip of my coffee and stare at the screen. It too remains “a blank page” for some minutes before I finally just drop that into the title field, and sit quietly, drinking coffee, aware.

This is not an unsatisfying moment. I am not feeling frustrated. (I chuckle as I write those words, immediately hearing my Traveling Partner’s voice replying in my head “Well, how are you feeling?”) I am feeling content. Just that. This moment does not seem to require more.

We create our experience with our choices, and our understanding of it is a carefully crafted narrative we make up ourselves, that may or may not accurately reflect the details of our experience (or any other – we’re seriously really good at making shit up and convincing ourselves it is real). This particular experience, here, now, is built on my choice to relax and accept that I may not have anything noteworthy to write about this morning, and to fall back gently on “just putting words on a page”, “thinking out loud”, in real-time, unedited and uncensored. I smirk at myself using the word “uncensored” in the context of this particular morning; there’s nothing about the morning thus far that would require, or benefit from, censorship anyway. 🙂

I’ve caused myself so much stress, anxiety, suffering, and heartache, just by insisting that I do more, faster, so often. The arbitrary performance standards we set for ourselves (and each other) often have no basis in what works, or what matters most. Sometimes they are just numbers pulled out of thin air. Why let life become stressful over made up shit? Seriously. Same with our internal narrative; we often make up a story about our experience that is based on untested assumptions, unvoiced expectations, and wholly unrealistic fantastical details that are in no way factual – then we let it stress us out. (Note: consider not doing that!)

This morning begins another work day. One more after that, and it’s the weekend again. 😀 I’m ready for it… but first, I have to live today, in this moment, present and engaged, and doing both things and stuff. lol Have to? Get to.

…It’s already time to begin, again. 😀

Tags be here now, be the change, begin again, being and becoming, choose wisely, competing with a blank page, emotional self sufficiency, experience, good self-care, I am my own cartographer, meditation, mindfulness, mindfulness matters, one word after another, perspective, practicing the practices, ptsd, sufficiency, taking care of me, TBI, The Art of Being, the map is not the world, there are verbs involved, walking my own path, what matters most?, write that down!

Categories Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Summer, The Art of Being, Words

Taken in Context

August 15, 2018 //

Wednesday. I’m already eager for the weekend ahead. I am thinking about the down and back drive to see my Traveling Partner this weekend. Different car. I try to remember why, exactly, I’m making the trip… and even though I do have a clear recollection that it is a purposeful journey, I don’t recall why I’m making it, beyond the pure joy of the drive, and a visit with this delightful human being I so adore. It is a source of mild amusement that I am eager to make the drive. I haven’t been, generally, aside from being eager to see my partner, always. It is in the context of the new car that I find my eagerness to make the drive, specifically… Which gets me thinking about context, generally.

I let my mind wander a bit, thinking over “context”. I don’t get anywhere particularly useful, today. I fall back on listening to the early morning commuter traffic begin to pick up, out there beyond my window. Yesterday’s commute, the first one in the new car, was… fine. It was just fine. It was fairly effortless, although still punctuated with occasional stupid bullshit (or at least decisions that appeared, from my vantage point, to be fairly stupid, probably bullshit, based on context), and I even found myself simply enjoying the drive. Does the car make that much difference on the quality of the journey? I guess it could – in a journey taken by car. lol

I sip my coffee and consider the day ahead. I do so a little reluctantly. I have some errands to take care of either during the day or after it ends, and somehow… I don’t feel like it. LOL I’d much rather laze about barefooted thinking about my “boyfriend” and enjoying summer. The work day ahead looms over my reluctant consciousness this morning. I am thinking about summer drives on country roads, and picnics, barbecues, and house parties. I am thinking about friends, and love, and joy. I am thinking about that feeling of liberation that I feel on a Friday evening, or a Saturday morning – no work, no school. If I could sort out the logistics, I would definitely take the rest of my adulthood off. LOL

The last swallow of coffee, another glance at the clock, in the context of an ordinary Wednesday morning. It’s time to begin again. I take a breath, which becomes a sigh. There will definitely be verbs involved – my results may vary. 😉

Tags be here now, be the change, being and becoming, breathe, choose wisely, emotional self sufficiency, experience, I am my own cartographer, MBSR, mindful living, mindfulness matters, perspective, practicing the practices, ptsd, sufficiency, taken in context, taking care of me, TBI, The Art of Being, the map is not the world, there are verbs involved, walking my own path, Wednesday

Categories Brain Injury, Free Will, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Summer, The Art of Being, Words

Somewhat Wasteful

August 14, 2018 //

This morning I feel a bit as if I am wasting my time writing, at least a little bit. No sense of purpose, direction, or narrative, this morning. No hint of an idea. No phrase to build on. Just a woman and her morning coffee. 🙂 I suppose I am okay with that – and if I weren’t? My options are to choose change – and create it – or let go of my attachment to this moment being any different than it already is, right? 🙂

I sip my coffee and let minutes slip quietly by. I yawn, still sleepy, not yet fully awake, in spite of my morning yoga, and a pleasant shower. I pause to appreciate that I seem to be more or less over this head cold. There is a busy workday ahead of me, which seems less noteworthy than my eagerness to undertake the commute. The new car is an adventure of its own, and the fun of that far outweighs the irksomeness of the commute itself, for now. Perspective worth holding onto for another day, when I may need it more. 🙂

I ping my Traveling Partner, wondering if he is awake or asleep. The lack of more or less immediate reply, at this hour, suggests he is sleeping. I smile just at the thought of him, as my day begins. Love is a great beginning to a moment, or a day, or a journey. I take a moment to direct some of that warmth and affection toward the woman in the mirror, too; she’s worked her ass off getting me here, against some amazing odds.

I glance at the clock and finish my coffee. There’s still time to tidy up before I head to the office. I enjoy preparing for the end of the day and my return home in the evening, and doing so makes for a lovely welcome home. I’ve begun to get really caught up on all manner of things I’d let slip a bit (all that back and forth travel does consume quite a chunk of time), in spite of having been ill. I enjoy the momentary sense of accomplishment, before moving on to other things. I check my “to do list”, and begin with a verb. 🙂

Tags are you going my way?, be here now, be the change, begin again, being and becoming, breathe, choose wisely, emotional self sufficiency, experience, good self-care, I am my own cartographer, love and lovers, my home my rules my way, perspective, practicing the practices, ptsd, sufficiency, taking care of me, TBI, The Art of Being, there are verbs involved, walking my own path, what matters most?

Categories Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Love, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Summer, The Art of Being, Words

This Head Cold, That Car

August 12, 2018 //

I was too sick most of yesterday to maintain any excitement about the car in my driveway. Actually, when I first woke up during day light hours and noticed it there from my vantage point at the kitchen sink, I initially wondered who was here, before realizing my error and remembering the car. lol

There was a point, during the later portion of something I am inclined to call “mid-morning” (although for me it is actually, most days, well into the day because I am such an early riser), when I did feel well enough and restlessly housebound enough to want very much to go… to the store? Somewhere. I wanted to go somewhere. To feel forward momentum. To be out of the house for a few minutes. To have a purpose and direction that had to do with any else than blowing my nose again, or making yet another cup of tea, or broth. So… to the store?

I made a short list. Put clothes on. Got into the car and then I got honest with myself. I was restless, ill, and bored, and I just wanted to drive the car. lol I didn’t need anything at the store. Certainly, I didn’t need to spend the money. I pulled out of the driveway with care, and pointed the car in the direction of rural roads. I drove around, through forests and meadows and farmland, contentedly counting on GPS to get me home once I’d satisfied my desire to drive the car and be out of the house a bit. I didn’t bother with the pretext of going to the store. About an hour into that, my sinuses started itching again, my nose started running, and I started really feeling ill again. I eyed the small pack of Kleenex in the console, half gone already. Time to head home. I got home grinning from ear to ear, feeling content, and also feeling tired, ill, and ready to go back to bed.

A point in time between day and night.

I pretty much slept the rest of the day and night, waking now and then only long enough to have some soup, or tea, or re-up on symptom relieving over-the-counter nostrums and use the bathroom. So it went for the rest of the day, all of the night, and until some short time before full daylight this morning. Aside from some volunteer time on Friday, and buying the car, this entire weekend has been blown by being sick. I am, on the other hand, also exceedingly well-rested. lol

I’m sipping my coffee this morning, still feeling a bit fussy, head still pretty stuffy, but pleased that it hasn’t seemed to move into my chest (yet), which is a good thing. My coffee tastes delicious. It’s iced and also seems very refreshing. This seems, to me, to be a clear sign of recovery. I enjoy the moment, and the flavor, and also notice the colossal pile of used tissues, on the floor next to my desk, where I’ve either missed the waste basket or more likely, from the shape of the pile, and its vastness, I simple filled the basket and continued tossing tissue that direction. lol I am mildly embarrassed at the awareness that there are likely piles just like this one next to every over-filled waste basket in each room I’ve occupied this weekend, that the ennui of illness caused me to overlook and ignore. Maybe I have it in me today to tidy up a bit? (I think I might; and clearly I am well enough to notice the untidiness at this point!)

I begin to form a plan, an approach, something gently constructive to do with what is left of the weekend. I remind myself I am still sick, and won’t finish a long list – so I make a short one. The things that will bug me most to come home to, tomorrow: do the dishes, take out the trash, water the garden… I think about adding more, and decide to just stop there. Do those three things, gently. If I’ve got more in me after that, well, it’ll be obvious enough what else needs to be done. 🙂 No need to force myself through a busy day needlessly, it’s still the weekend.

I finish my coffee. Roll out my yoga mat. I begin again.

Tags are you going my way?, begin again, choose wisely, emotional self sufficiency, experience, getting well, good self-care, I am my own cartographer, I'm in love with my car, perspective, practicing the practices, ptsd, still sick, sufficiency, taking care of me, taking care of this fragile vessel, The Art of Being, there are verbs involved, walking my own mile

Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Summer, The Art of Being

Here, Now, Human

August 10, 2018 //

I am sitting here with my coffee, grateful to be out of the office today. My coffee is still untouched, though I’ve been sitting here with it for half an hour. I have a cold and feel fairly listless and awful. It could be worse, of course, it’s really just a cold.

Having a head cold was not in my plan for today. I am volunteering some of my time… and I am so glad that’s a little later. I take a sip of my insipid, possibly terrible, coffee (is this head cold why it tasted “off” yesterday morning, too?). It was my plan to spend the remainder of my weekend shopping for a car. It’s time. I don’t much feel at all interested in that, at the moment, and I suspect it would be a colossal dick move to go car shopping while contagious. I’m definitely certain it would be grossly inconsiderate to spread this shit around knowing I am ill.

It’s weird to me that many businesses strike a pose of actively discouraging employees from calling out when they are sick, in some cases even penalizing actual sick people for not getting over being sick fast enough. Many do, though, and the effort is leveraged primarily at entry-level workers, and lower paying middle management jobs; humans involved in the day-to-day work of keeping business going. You know, “the working class” folks. I’ve not ever seen anyone in the executive class actively discouraged from being out of the office… at all. Ever. I have reached an understanding that the amount of energy put into “attendance policies” (again, those are rarely applied to senior managers or executives at all) and convincing sick people to show up for work (in spite of potential risk of contagion, or delaying a person’s recovery) says a lot about the high value of their labor – and if those employees cave to that pressure, and work while sick or develop a tolerant acceptance of their exploitation, it says a lot about how poorly they value themselves. There’s definitely profit to be made in human beings undervaluing themselves – they cost so much less! It’s an understanding that, over time, moved me further and further left on the political spectrum as a human being, as a worker, and as a manager. “Who actually benefits from this policy?” became a question I learned to ask – a lot. It is heartbreaking how rarely, in most places, the answer is ever “everyone who works here benefits equally”.

Enough about things to do with working. Bleh. Actually, “bleh” is a good descriptor of where I am with my whole experience, just at the moment. I’m not quite sick enough to give up on everything and just go back to bed (although my coffee is really not the experience I’ve grown to love, and I feel fairly crappy, generally)… and I’m definitely not well enough to pull on my hiking boots and get a couple of miles in before I head to the VA.

…Just thinking about going back to bed, and looking at the clock… I don’t know… bed sounds okay… even if I didn’t sleep… I could just lay there being miserable so gently…

…I can begin again… later…

Tags be miserable gently, calling out sick, consideration, experience, good self-care, head cold, I hate being sick, no cure for the common cold, perspective, ptsd, taking care of me, TBI, walking my own path, we're all in this together, who does that policy benefit?

Categories Brain Injury, health, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Summer, The Big 5

Contemplating a Blank Page

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Taken in Context

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Somewhat Wasteful

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This Head Cold, That Car

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Here, Now, Human

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