Archives for posts with tag: good self-care

Yesterday went sideways for a painful moment or two. I am more resilient than I was even a  year ago; some tears, some words, and a hot soak in Epsom salts later, I was okay. Saddened a bit that I am less skillful at face-to-face communication than I would like to be. Irked with myself failing to recognize that communication is not always what someone else is after, at all. Still…okay. The evening ended quietly, and pleasantly, and I managed to pass an interesting milestone that is quite new for me, although it was  painful moment – I asked my traveling partner to go, rather than continue an unpleasant moment for both of us. I didn’t regret the decision. I didn’t candy coat it. I didn’t go after him, changing my mind. I didn’t plead for him to return – or even actually want that. I took care of me, gently and without guilt or fear. Last night, I needed me.

I miss living with my traveling partner – the convenience of his nearness and warmth is lovely – but one advantage to living alone is being more able to invest in my self-care, and to continue to pursue progress in therapy at a time when much of what I am working on/through/with touches on intimate relationship experiences, emotional self-sufficiency, free will, and developing/maintaining a comfortably adult sense of self with an injury and trauma history that tends to push me in a co-dependent direction with any being that may wish me more good than ill. Living with me is not easy on anyone – me, included. For now, developing that relationship I have with myself is an important part of what I am doing lately. It’s harder to do living with a being I adore with whole-hearted enthusiasm, commitment, and affection so strong that I routinely put love – and my traveling partner – ahead of my own needs. This is a poor choice over time, I know, and I’ve felt it like a weight tied to our experience together. We both need a break from the chaos and damage, figuring out how to get one has been a challenge. How unfair that he has to deal with it at all? He didn’t bring me to this place, but he’s been quite a good sport about walking part of this journey with me in spite of that… but… I am my own cartographer. It doesn’t just ‘have to be that way’ – it simply is. Eventually, following someone else’s path leads me predictably astray from my own. There’s no ill-intention to it; we are each having our own experience.

It was my traveling partner who first made that observation to me, in these words, “we are each having our own experience”. It has been a powerful observation that holds great meaning and perspective for me.

A good reminder

A good reminder

This morning I woke gently from a night of deep restful sleep. No tears. No nightmares. No residual ‘ick’ or emotional hangover. This is an interesting change, and I’m not inclined to question it. I feel appreciative of progress made over time. I am living my own life – right now. There are still going to be some painful moments; emotion is part of my human experience, and there is no ‘happy ending’ besides the one I create for myself.

Yesterday is behind me. Today is ahead of me. Tonight is hours away, and it is still the middle of the work week. There is plenty to do here at home – some housekeeping, a few remaining moving in tasks, a stereo to hook up. I decided to give up on the huge wall-mounted monitor – even on its stand it takes up too much wall space for something that is of little importance to me; I am quite content watching movies, anime, and favorite shows of all sorts on my laptop, or a bigger monitor than my wee laptop – but I earnestly prefer my wall space be reserved for art, and don’t really watch much television at all. On the other hand… music doesn’t sound the same on the laptop, even with my sound bar. It’s not at all the same as listening to music through a good amplifier and great speakers – filling the house with sound, and feeling the bass in my bones. I want that experience back in my day-to-day existence with the music I like best, myself. It’s been more than two years of compromising my musical taste because it wasn’t preferred in the household – now the household is mine, and I play the music I love, myself.

Somewhere across the distance of life's journey, I am connecting with myself.

Somewhere across the distance of life’s journey, I am connecting with myself.

I find this slow process of unfolding and becoming and allowing myself to acknowledge, accept, and invest in my own taste and needs without distraction or compromise both interesting and sometimes quite emotional. So far I am delighted with the results, and not inclined to take direction, or be blown off course by what suits anyone else – even my traveling partner. This sometimes sets up some powerful internal conflict as I untangle me from all the baggage that isn’t actually ‘me’. Love is what it is, and loving well demands that I open my heart to others – but also that I nurture my own heart, and satisfy my own needs. When I take the best care of me I am more able to love well…but I may not be the person my lover assumes me to be. Is there risk that love will be lost along the way? That’s a complicated question that lacks a clear answer…but I am certain of one thing; I can’t love easily if I am not the person I actually am, and any love returned to me can’t easily be experience, enjoyed, or sustained if it is intended for someone other than the me that I actually am.

The sum of many parts.

The sum of many parts.

This is not a sad morning, or moment. I feel encouraged and strong, and something like the way I feel in that moment at a trail head, pulling on my pack, adjusting the straps, and double checking my map before I head down the trail, eyes wide with wonder, awake and aware. I don’t know where my path will take me, and I’m okay with that. Today is a good day for solo hiking.

This morning I woke feeling anxious. There’s nothing wrong, as far as I can tell. I am not in pain or struggling with difficult circumstances. It is a lovely chill morning, nearer to summer than to spring. I slept with my window open to cool the apartment overnight; it had gotten quite hot after the heat of the day, yesterday. The community of crows that lives in our neighborhood wake much earlier than the people tend to, and they woke me to join in the delights of morning – or perhaps they just didn’t realize I had hoped to sleep in? 🙂

Life is full of lovely moments, and beauty - I have to choose to see it.

Life is full of lovely moments, and beauty – I have to choose to see it.

Once I was up, and sipping my coffee, the anxiety had passed – although like a bad tooth, I could feel it any time my consciousness poked at it. I take a moment to appreciate the time I had taken to put to rest any unrealistic expectations about mood management and ‘happily ever after’, while I was moving in. Waiting for anxiety or disappointment to set in to take care of unreasonable expectations and unverified assumptions is an exceptionally efficient way to make things so much worse when they go wrong – and things do go wrong now and again, regardless of how ideal life may seem in some other moment. This morning isn’t so bad. I’m just experiencing some feelings of anxiety – and they are primarily very physical feelings, rather than being a wholly emotional experience. I sit back with a smile as I write those words – the physical feelings of anxiety are very like another emotion, a generally positive one – excitement. Eagerness, too, feels a bit similar to anxiety, on the physical side of things…and this morning I have plans about which I am quite excited, and eager for the morning to wear on such that it becomes ‘time to go’.

Recognizing that my ‘anxiety’ is actually ‘excitement’ and ‘eagerness’ allows the pieces of that experience that drive stress to dissipate; without the perception that something is ‘wrong’, these feelings are no longer ‘anxious’ at all.

Sometimes taking care of me is as simple as enjoying a flower in my garden.

Sometimes taking care of me is as simple as enjoying a flower in my garden. Sometimes I am that flower.

I continue to enjoy my morning coffee, and to watch the sun rise, filtered through the blinds of the ‘dining room’ window. (Trust me, this small space that is so heavenly to me doesn’t really rate identifying the ‘dining room’ and ‘living room’ as separate spaces. lol) I smile, thinking about yesterday. It ended well; I sold a painting, and bought a comfortable chair for my apartment, and a modest, practical set of pots and pans. It still delights me to observe how conveniently money works to simplify the conversion of art into needed goods. The transaction was a very practical demonstration of money as a spendable form of human effort. (From my own perspective, it has no other legitimate value or purpose. I suppose that says something about who I am.)

"Sunset Silhouette" 12" x 16" acrylic on canvas w/india ink 2014

“Sunset Silhouette” 12″ x 16″ acrylic on canvas w/india ink 2014

I enjoy this small place that is my own. I feel content here. It is strange to be so aware that the good feelings associated with living alone cause some anxiety, themselves, and a certain feeling of uncertain restlessness – particularly when things are going especially well.  As a result, I am more aware this morning that even the very good feelings I enjoy so much may take some practice to handle skillfully – perhaps as much practice as managing feelings of anger, despair, grief, frustration, or hurt.  When I am over-eager, or excited to the point of fidgeting and bouncing through my experience, I tend to make poor decisions, and may lack needed awareness of consequences; there are opportunities to improve through meditation, and mindfulness that are as powerful as learning to comfort myself when I am hurting. When I am content for longer periods of time than I am used to, I am prone to taking that experience for granted, and becoming unreasonably frustrated and disappointed when things go wrong; here, too, practices that improve perspective, self-compassion, and mindfulness also ease the rather mundane and unnecessary stress of a challenging moment on a lovely day.

Awake and aware, each day is a new experience.

Awake and aware, each day is a new experience.

This morning, I am both content, and excited about my morning – and I am taking time to care for this beloved darling broken self that is mine, before I head into the world to face what is real about what is also delightful. I stick with my self-care practices, instead of allowing excitement to drive me forth, unprepared for the day. It may seem a small thing, and in this lovely moment it may even seem unnecessary – it will matter very much later, when I am tired, or frustrated over something small, that I took time to take the very best care of me this morning. Yep. Even living with less stress, and more contentment, there are verbs involved. It is still a journey, and an exploration – I am still my own cartographer.

Today is a good day to enjoy my self – and enjoy the world.

I woke to my alarm this morning. I slept through the night aside from one very brief interruption in my sleep that ended with checking the clock and agreeing with myself that getting up at 1:35 am was silly. I went back to sleep easily. I am adjusting to the new environment. There’s no anxiety associated with my disturbed sleep, which is an improvement. I am simply in a new place and the differences make a difference to my sleep until my sense of things grows to rely on implicit memory of this new place, rather than some other place I have been previously. Waking in the night is no longer so disorienting, and when I reached for my alarm this morning my hand found it immediately.

Incremental changes over time do happen, and applying some verbs from my basic self-care arsenal helps that process along nicely. Taking care of me, here, is about more than stress-relieving meditation, pain-relieving yoga, and healthy sleep, too. It is also about dishes, and vacuuming, and making the bed. It is about maintaining order, and a beautiful home for myself – and not because someone else says these things have value (actually, that approach just doesn’t work at all). These are things I value for myself. I can only have them if I do the tasks and take the actions that building that life requires. The verbs are inescapable.

I woke up this morning with a smile. My coffee is hot and tasty and from the vantage point of my desk I can see, on one side, my as-yet-unmade bed, and on the other my very clean kitchen. Timing, too, is part of my self-care picture – waking to a clean kitchen and no dishes waiting in the sink really matters to me. On the other hand, there is no stress or pressure to make my bed upon rising, and I am happy to give myself time to wake up and have coffee and handle that task a little later. I am gentle with myself in this new space. I am efficient, and also patient with myself about competing priorities, and overlapping needs. I have given up berating and criticizing myself over small things – it’s mean and hurtful when others do it, and I don’t care for it – when I inflict such things on myself, it goes beyond hurting and becomes part of who I am, and changes what I accept from others, or tolerate in myself. It hasn’t been easy to give up the practice of treating myself poorly in the context of environments in which others may be treating themselves poorly, or me, or other people – it’s too much continuous reinforcement of behaviors I have been working to change.

I’m not saying it is ‘easy’ now – there are still verbs involved – it just feels a bit less complicated to practice treating myself gently in this quiet space.

They set a good example of living in the moment.

They set a good example of living in the moment.

My aquarium arrived yesterday, and having it set up here at home delights me. I definitely missed the cadre of tiny eyes watching me while I write, and the fish are a wonderful living example of being in the moment – where else would they be? The fios guys stopped round yesterday and got me connected. Later I stopped at the grocery store and picked up groceries – a far less time-consuming process cooking for one, and that one being me (I know what I like, what is healthy for me, and don’t have to work so hard to accommodate other tastes and needs now) – particularly with the store being a short walk away. My pantry is not yet complete. I don’t have a complete set of pots and pans, either. Those details don’t matter right now; I have enough.

It has been just one week since moving day, and I am moved in (aside from hanging paintings, and storing those that will not be hanging). I feel at home already, and this surprises me – I expected ‘finding my way home’ to be more complicated, and require vastly more work to change…something. Something inside myself. Whatever that something is, it has apparently already changed leaving behind only geography and choices to make. There is no need to rush the choices that continue to personalize my home over time – there is fun in the process of exploring new ideas, as well as growth, and rushing those remaining choices increases the risk of being discontent with the outcome later. I take my time with it, and enjoy the process.

Honestly, it is still very new to live entirely alone. My traveling partner wondered aloud recently what it would be like for me once the novelty wears off. I wonder too. I also wonder if I would notice the novelty wearing off at all – my novelty identification circuitry is quite broken. lol Would I complain if living alone continued to be a wonder and a delight indefinitely? I don’t think I would. 🙂 Real life is real, though, and I’m okay with that too. The kitchen floor creaks ferociously here. The fios equipment is rather awkwardly placed. The dishwasher (brand new) doesn’t work and it will be another couple of days before the appliance guy comes to fix it. My aquarium is not arranged precisely as I had it – the mover did her best, and I did not complain; I am content to have my aquarium at home, and I can make any adjustments I care to, later. The warm evening yesterday, and the open door while the aquarium mover moved my aquarium let some mosquitoes into the house and I woke with some mosquito bites this morning. So, sure… there’s no shortage of imperfections even in this gentle experience. I’m still okay with that. I’m living my life, doing my best to treat myself and others well, and using some verbs.

Who I am, who I once was, and the journey between those points.

Who I am, who I once was, and the journey between those points; it is enough.

 

I am home.

My coffee is hot and tasty, and potentially ‘the best cup of coffee ever’, although realistically that only tells me that I am enjoying it very much right now, relative to the memory of other coffees, at other moments. The move took me out of reach of the very excellent espresso machine in the very excellent and spacious kitchen. My wee kitchen here at home lacks the counter space for such a thing, and I shopped and studied, and auditioned coffees around town made this way and that, and decided I would enjoy mastering the ‘pour over’ method of making coffee.

The first couple of days in the new place, I got by on instant coffee, which seemed fairly commonplace for moving and didn’t disturb me, although the coffee itself was quite ordinary, and not especially pleasant. It was, in fact, the sort of coffee that people who don’t drink coffee use to justify how awful coffee drinking is. lol I still savored the moment, each morning, when I paused for my coffee, sometimes enjoying it on the patio, bare toes wiggling in the cool morning air, and listening contentedly to the birds, or watching the squirrels play. The moment itself is not truly about the coffee. 🙂

Choices come in many forms.

Choices come in many forms.

When the burr grinder, drip cone, and gooseneck kettle arrived it was late in the afternoon on a Sunday – generally a poor choice of day and time for a coffee, since drinking coffee in the afternoon generally affects my sleep quite a lot…but Monday would be a holiday, and I had no plans aside from continuing to get moved in…so…coffee!! I ever-so-carefully reviewed the steps, and then followed them…eager…hopeful…excited… Would it be everything that the fragrant, smooth, exotic pour overs I had recently savored at downtown cafes and the farmer’s market seemed to be? Would it be difficult to master this new skill? Would the experience – and the resulting beverage – satisfy my taste and my aesthetic? Would it be ‘enough’?

The first sip was quite excellent – and each coffee I have made since then has seemed so. I enjoy the relaxed precision of the process itself, and making a coffee is now more involved, requiring me to be more aware of the process itself – and that too feels quite satisfying.

I could have been more frugal, with a drip coffee machine, perhaps, and buying coffee already ground. I’d get by on that, and likely find myself content to have my morning coffee, regardless. I  considered a French press – and perhaps that is an option for another day, for making a larger quantity of coffee to share with friends or lovers….I enjoy a good French press coffee, too. That’s the thing, isn’t it? Good self-care, and the tender act of savoring each pleasant moment life offers me isn’t truly about which practice, what method, or the sort of moment, is it? This morning it seems clearer to me that it is about the experiences, themselves, and the act of savoring them, most of all; it is the living of life that is what matters most, and that I embrace my experience awake, aware, and with a sense of perspective. Or…something. Perhaps it is simply about an excellent cup of coffee, that I made for me, myself, on a lovely quiet morning, after a good night’s sleep?

This morning, in spite of waking in a great deal of pain, I feel more settled into new routines. I feel comfortable and content – and relaxed. I woke with a smile that has lingered through my shower, and remains, hovering over my coffee. I look around and see living space filled with my choices, and that meets my needs, nurturing this fragile vessel, and supporting the growth of the being within it. The smile makes sense; I am taking good care of me.

Today is a good day to make choices that support my needs over time. Today is a good day for smiles that linger, and a feeling of contentment. Today is a good day for sufficiency, and the pleasure in simple things. Today is a good day to change my world. (There are still verbs involved…and your results may vary.)

 

Another lovely morning – I’ve had quite a string of them, and I’m enjoying it without expectations of future such lovely mornings. No dread, I just find it a poor choice to attempt to force the universe and circumstances to comply with my whims by assuming it will be so. It hasn’t worked out well in the past to take that approach. 🙂 I found myself beginning this blog post with such enthusiasm – yesterday – that I got to 5k words and didn’t finish. This morning is another lovely one, my Traveling Partner dozing near by, my coffee hot and tasty. I pare down the words a bit and wonder if I should publish this one at all… it seems to strike a fairly serious tone, which wasn’t my intent when I began it…still, there are some things worth saying about the recent string of ‘easy’ pleasant mornings… there are verbs involved. 🙂

Flowers are a lovely metaphor for growth over time.

Flowers are a lovely metaphor for growth over time.

I have been finding it easier of late to ‘merry meet’ when I interact with someone, and similarly easily ‘merry part’ when the time comes to walk away – even if that departure is heralded by some moment of stress or OPD in my vicinity. (If you are just joining us here, ‘OPD’ is ‘Other People’s Drama’.) My gentle mornings and evenings seem to cuddle busy productive work days that are, while not entirely stress free, quite enjoyable moment to moment. I am learning not to immerse myself in the difficulties of others. It’s a good time for me, and I am generally content.

Does any of this make it sound ‘easy’? I sure hope not. I mean well, and I benefit from my writing – which is why I do it, honestly – and some of you reading have shared that you find value in my words, or pictures. I sure don’t want to set expectations that these changes in experience and quality of life have been effortless to reach, however well received, however simple sounding; there are verbs involved. I am putting in a lot of time and practice to discover the difference between ‘wish’ and ‘will’. They are very different. 🙂

Imperfectly perfect is as perfect as perfect gets.

Imperfectly perfect is as perfect as perfect gets.

The changes in my experience, in my emotional resilience and self-sufficiency over time, and my enjoyment of life generally have not only not been ‘easy’ to reach – they are not promised even now. I know I am likely to have the occasional bad day. I’ll have difficult times and frustrating moments. I’m likely to struggle to be understood now and then, or to have an interaction with a loved one that leaves me feeling mistreated. Practice, in my experience so far, does not make ‘perfect’ – it just doesn’t, and I highly suggest letting that old trope fall by the wayside. Practice is practice; choosing good practices, and practicing them because the practices themselves add a positive quality to my experience has ‘moved the needle’ on my quality of life. I am experiencing an improvement over time – with continued practice. Your results may vary and there are verbs involved – and choices. The practices I choose for me are most effective when they are the most effective practices I can choose for myself – the ones that resonate with me, and meet my needs over time, providing me with the greatest value. I think that’s where I’ve ‘gone wrong’ in treatment before…trying to force practices to work for me that either didn’t address my needs well, or just weren’t the practices with the outcome I sought. The effort was wasted, not because it lacked value, but because it lacked the value I expected it to have. If I had been, then, more easily able to accept the value that any one practice or change in behavior or thinking actually offered, as it was, I might have gone farther, faster, sooner… I lacked the wisdom and experience to understand that good practices are not ‘One Size Fits All’. So. I try new ones, and share what I can of the experience. There’s a lot to learn in life’s curriculum.  And I sure hope this does not sound like a lecture. 🙂

Prescription strength mindfulness has been the best Rx for me...and it can be taken as part of any treatment plan!

Prescription strength mindfulness has been the best Rx for me…and it can be taken as part of any treatment plan! 

There’s a common and peculiar notion that a magic pill might save the day, spare the effort, provide a short-cut…and I think I got lost on that detour, too. For a long while I took powerful mind-altering prescription drugs on the recommendation of my clinician at the time, in a rather desperate willingness to ‘try anything’ that would ease my suffering, and balance my volatility… only… what I felt stated in a more honest way was a desperate willingness to try anything that did not require actual effort,  or an investment in will, practice, changing behaviors and thinking, investing in my time, or making a real commitment to the lengthy process that growth can be. That all sounds like real work…I wanted a magic pill, and no arguments. I wanted to be personally validated as being ‘the good guy’ and assured that because I had been victimized the world had an obligation to put things right somehow. I told countless therapists who asked me what I hoped to get out of treatment that what I wanted was ‘happily ever after’. I’ll tell you it’s worth saying so to a therapist at least once in one’s life – just to see the look on their face. It is not a reasonable goal. No magic pill. No short cuts. No happily ever after. I dutifully took my pills though…and then other pills to address symptoms those pills caused…and more therapy because the pills weren’t really fixing things, just muting them a bit…and then other different pills because the pills caused side effects…and more pills because those pills didn’t do quite what other pills did that I thought perhaps needed to be done… The pills were wrecking my health, and not doing my cognition or emotional balance any real good, either. Seeking a magic potion did not replace the effort required to learn to live and love skillfully, in the face of chaos and damage. (And the no short cuts rule seems pretty universal.)

I am not a doctor, and this is not medical advice. (Please don’t just wander off and stop taking your medication! Doing so over a blog post seems a poor approach to good self-care.)

I share what works for me because it was so hard for me to find, in the first place.

I share what works for me because it was so hard for me to find, in the first place.

Why am I on and on about how this is not easy, and that the journey requires taking steps, and that will requires action, and that there are verbs involved if I am enjoying my experience lately, with seemingly such ease day-to-day? Because I, myself, could be mislead by the ease in my experience lately, and find my way to problematic thinking and assumptions that could wreck my heart nearly instantly if something goes sideways unexpectedly.  I find it incredibly painful and discouraging to embrace expectations of ease and effortlessness, and have my contentment yoinked out from under me suddenly, not through any great tragedy, but simply because I lost sight of how much practice goes into living well, and how much time I invest in good self-care and taking care of me. “Easy” doesn’t describe it… and when it feels ‘easy’ I generally find that the sensation of ease is related more to developing skill over time, rather than to any lack of effort. I’m still practicing. There are still verbs involved. I am learning to undermine the demons of discouragement and futility lurking in the darkness by being accepting and aware of the commitment I make to practicing, and the necessity to continue. Doing so results in fewer of those terrible moments when it feels like it wasn’t worth trying at all; they are an illusion, and have no greater value than any other fleeting thought or emotion, and choosing differently is possible. You know I’m going to say it again… There are verbs involved. I also know there will be days when I struggle to understand why I have to practice so much or ‘work so hard’ at what seems so effortless on other days. Perspective will matter. Maybe on that day, these words will matter, too.

Each having our own experience, and all in this together; like flowers, we are also blooming in our own time.

Each having our own experience, and all in this together; like flowers, we are also blooming in our own time.

Today is apparently a good day for a lot of words. Today is a good day to practice good practices that are effective for me, personally. Today is a good day to try new practices with an open mind, and a will to explore what they may offer. Today is a good day to brush off discouragement with a smile and say “you’re not my supervisor!” Today is a good day to observe the suffering of others and choose differently myself, without being any less compassionate about their experience.