Archives for posts with tag: experience

I’ve been wandering around in an inspired fog now for almost two days, feeling electrified with wonder, new perspective, feelings of being profoundly well-loved. It’s a very good place to be, as an individual human. I ride the wave. I know this too shall pass. lol

Good news from yesterday; still mortal, but whatever is causing me so much pain isn’t (as far as modern science can thus far determine) some obvious horrific creeping disease of middle-aged likely to end my journey “too soon”.

The bad news? Still don’t know what’s causing me so much very specific new pain. That’s the thing of it – I’m making doctors work for their money. I don’t want my pain medicated, and if easing it right now requires medication, they can go fuck themselves. I want to know what is wrong. First. Fuck pain killers. Fuck the politicization of pain management. Fuck the “opioid crisis”. Fuck bad medicine. Fuck bad politics. Fuck congress or the nightly news getting all up in the business of managing my health care – which ideally should be a matter for me and my doctor(s). Fuck the VA replacing MD’sΒ with nurse practitioners to cut costs. Fuck all that – just tell me, correctly, accurately, with good certainty, what the ever-loving-fuck is going on here? lol Small ask, one would think.

Did you not read that last paragraph with a proper frustrated-to-the-edge-of-tears snarl? Give it another read for me, please? I’m angry as fuck. lol πŸ˜‰

Still in progress, about to be completed, new work in mind – great challenges create inspiration. (Your results may vary.)

Still. I’m wandering around with inspiration delightfully distracting me from all that in most moments, which is … wow. I still have to calm myself enough to firmly decide whether I am painting this weekend… because… omg… I gotta. lol I haven’t felt this level of inspiration in actual years. It is… wonderful. One downside… I’m lugging my sketchbook everywhere, and a fistful of colored pencils and manga pens, for note taking sketches for work I consider “already in progress”. Mixed media details are quickly being sought, gathered, ordered, acquired, obtained… and I am filled with a sense of power and purpose.

A great deal of my work is inspired by defiance in the face of trauma or turmoil. A wordless shout, “you have no power over me!” Delight and euphoria surge through my body, and electrical shocks climb my spine again and again. Today I spell “Artist” with a capital “A”.

Today I begin again.

Greatest troubleshooting step of all time; have you tried shutting it off, and turning it back on? Pretty good generic advice, even where relationships and people go. Sometimes it only tells you more about what isn’t working, but sometimes it’s a handy quick fix by itself.

Moments of great stress and turmoil? Anger? Chaos? Shut that shit down. Come back later. Get some rest. Set it aside, really just walk away from it. (Maybe permanently, yes that’s a thing people can do – even you.) Chronic lasting sorrow? Hard if the sorrow is over a real, deeply painful, recent or lasting circumstance, I know, but still possible. (Sometimes much harder if the sorrow “isn’t real” at all, that’s sort of a known thing about mental illness.) Walk in the sun. Find someone to laugh with, something to laugh about. Read a book about something altogether different. Hell, take a walk with that sorrow in mind, and really let your thoughts run free for a while. Or take a nap.

I’m not saying “turning it off” is easy. It’s not. It’s hard. Still doable. Still a choice to make. Still verbs involved – that you can choose to do. This is real and achievable. Are you mired in some bleak or horrible bullshit, right now? Shut it down. Walk away. Change your perspective. Go elsewhere. Hang with other friends. Choices. …And if you, instead, continue to endure, and suffer, and flail, and struggle, and fight, and stew, and seethe, and rail against life? That’s a choice, too.

You get to decide. You get to take action. This is your journey. You gotta walk your own hard mile – but you are also your own cartographer. The map may not be the world – but it is yours to make.

I sip my coffee before the trip down to see my Traveling Partner and friends for the day. Possibly just a day trip. I carefully consider what I’m bringing, mindful that there is limited space, and it’s a very short visit. I consider limited resources and individual needs. My mind lights briefly on a distant madwoman, a former friend, an X, and shake my head with sorrow and disappointment. I may have lost thousands of dollars of original art in the storm of her chaos and delusional rage, but she has no power over me unless I give that to her; I choose not to, and turn my thoughts back to the day ahead of me. My day. My experience. My life. My choices.

It’s still an every day, circumstance-by-circumstance, moment-to-moment choice for me to “walk on”, to “let this one go”, or to shut down drama by declining to participate in madness. There are still verbs involved. My results still vary – but the quality of my life improves greatly when I do. “You have no power over me” reverberates in my thoughts. I smile. Finish my coffee. There is great power in new beginnings. That power is mine. πŸ™‚

I begin again.

You know what soap-bubbles, expectations, and assumptions have in common? The amount of substance they’ve got. lol Test your assumptions – be really brutal about investigating what supports your opinions. If you’re wrong, you most likely would benefit from knowing that. Those expectations? They aren’t real at all. Just made up shit in our thinking that we wander around with as if we have some reason to … crap, how do I not use either “expect” or “assume” right there. We gotta knock that shit off.

Ask. Clarify. Observe. Question. Test. Check. Double-check. I’m not talking about deep-seated insecurities being re-verified constantly. Not even a little. Kind of the opposite. I think I’m trying to describe the balance a secure being must find between their contentment and their future, using choices – choices ideally made based on an understanding of the world, and their own life, such that the outcome is as desired, mostly, generally speaking. It’s very hard to do that when we let ourselves live in a soap-bubble.

One more soap-bubble pops as I move through life. Shit got real, and not in a pretty way. My Traveling Partner is safe. Our friends are safe. The bullshit and drama that went down probably cost us all a lot more than we’d have been willing to let go of. Many thousands of dollars were burned up (metaphorically) in a savage display of uncontrolled fury and mental illness. Fucking hell. There is profound risk in giving people “second chances”, and new beginnings don’t always turn out better than old bullshit. Sometimes we have to look at the balance sheet and admit that we can’t afford to give that person more chances; it is too costly, emotionally, or financially. In this case? All the things. It was a poor choice to put any eggs in that badly woven damaged basket.

Once more for the folks in the back; no amount of your anger justifies destroying other people’s property, robbing them of their sense of safety or security in their homes, acting out against them in violence, or saying some of the vile shit human primates are capable of saying when they are enraged. It’s not okay. Do better.Β You are making choices.

Does this experience, that may have actually cost me 10s of thousands of dollars in destroyed or damaged art work (of my own) cause me to reconsider being willing to love, to trust, or to begin again? No. It just reminds me that assuming positive intent is not an assurance of actual positive intent, in fact. It reminds me to test my assumptions, to avoid implicit expectations, and to be willing to walk on when things don’t work out, with no looking back. My good heart gives second chances. I hadn’t previously given an ex, an actual ex, a “second chance”, before. I am unlikely to do that again. But the terrible behavior of others is no reason to compromise my own good nature, or be dissuaded from being the woman I most want to be. I decide who I become. Those choices are mine. There are verbs involved.

I left the office yesterday trembling with stress, triggered, and on the edge of tears, in a hurry to get safely home so that I could compulsively check for reassuring communications from loved ones, and check in with others that they were okay, too. I needed that for me. What’s new and beautiful and makes this experience, after-the-fact, pretty powerfully positive; I bounced back. After a few quiet minutes meditating in the car before I began my commute, I was emotionally safe to drive, calm, and “okay”. By the end of the evening, I was able to sleep.Β  I woke rested, and the day ahead, for all obvious purposes, appears to be a fairly ordinary one. (Although, to be fair, yesterday got off to a great start…)

I wish my Traveling Partner and my distant loved ones well from afar, finish my coffee, and get ready to begin again.

Yesterday was lovely, generally speaking. Good start to the dayΒ sort of morphed into a pleasant commute that became a productive and jovial work day that finished softly with an errand, a slightly different route home, and gentle conversation with my Traveling Partner, before winding down and becoming a peculiarly early bedtime that was also a night when I did not easily fall asleep. lol All in all, a lovely day.

I make a point to take a few minutes to look back on yesterday, specifically because it was a good day. We so easily fall into the habit of obsessing over the details that were raw, or annoying, or didn’t work out, or which trouble us, picking at those moments like sores – we can’t help but keep fussing with them, but allowing that to become who we are results in a fairly poor quality of life experience, and I’ve been practicing differently. I let myself contentedly gloss over most of the small moments that “missed the mark”; I am entirely unconcerned with those. I focus on what worked. I contemplate good feelings. I smile and remind myself about the bits that were unusually pleasant and replay those in great detail while I sip my morning coffee. I practice “taking in the good“.

I smile again when I remember I just ordered Rick Hanson PhD’s new book, too; “Resilient: How to Grow an Unshakable Core of Calm, Strength, and Happiness“. I chuckle when I also recall the remnant of youthful cynicism that suggested, last night, that there “wouldn’t be anything really new in this…” in subtle discouragement… but… I can’t help but also be very aware that “we become what we practice”, and that whether this is fully 100% new material is not actually relevant to having a good experience of living life. It matters more to practice the practices that support me on this journey to becoming the woman I most want to be. πŸ™‚

So far, today is another pleasant day, in a life that is largely characterized by contentment, these days. It’s hard to want to “begin again” when “now” is, in this moment, quite easily enough. πŸ˜€

I’ll just be over here practicing. πŸ˜‰

It’s still quite dark. It’s early. A Wednesday. A work day. A quiet morning. This moment, right here, is characterized by any number of individual details. This moment is its own. “Now”.

This moment is now. It won’t remain so. Eventually, it will be a memory – if it’s lucky. Most moments simply pass, insignificant, unappreciated, unnoticed.

I pause for this one. I listen to the pre-dawn traffic beyond the window. I feel the shiver across my skin and up my spine as the heat kicks on. I sip my coffee. I breathe. Relax.

I could do more, or differently. I could “make something” of this moment, if I chose to do so. This one, I choose simply to enjoy, quietly. Taking notice. Observing. Aware. Without criticism, or judgement. For this moment, I simply am.

Soon enough, it will be time to begin again.