Archives for posts with tag: good self-care

Getting Started on Level 55

June 13, 2018 //

In video games new levels sometimes look really different. Handy. It’s less obvious with birthdays. Sure, sure, I’m “a whole year older”, but that work is behind me now, and 55 is basically all but one day entirely ahead of me. Everything looks entirely the same. 🙂

Perspective on the day. A familiar view.

I had things planned that took me downtown in the morning. Those plans toppled like carefully arranged dominoes, but not soon enough to spare me the trip. lol My day was entirely spent indulging myself gently from there, gardening, reading, and generally delighted with the lovely day from moment-to-moment. I missed my Traveling Partner, and far more the person, himself, than the gift he’d sent (that he had alerted me would likely not arrive in time). (I do like presents, but missing him is not about material things.)

It was a lovely day in the garden.

My mail carrier surprised me by being early. Packages. 😀 A gift from a friend, and a wee package from my Traveling Partner; his gift arrived on the very day. I eagerly opened them both. Earrings and a book. The earrings are lovely heart-shaped peridot earrings that sparkle in the sunshine, and go very nicely with my mop of messy layers and waves of colorful hair. The book is how I ended up spending much of the delightful day reading, trying in part to puzzle out why this book? A birthday mystery. lol

I did not end up reading this book, but this is the book I was gifted. 😀

I spent the day gently, enjoying my own company. Time well-spent. Facebook filled with birthday well-wishes over the course of the day. Each “happy birthday” made me smile, and take note of the good wishes of my friends in a bigger way. My Mom phoned. We talked for about half an hour, really taking time to catch up. It was a great start to a new year, a new level. By the end of the day, plans that had gone awry were no longer part of the experience, at all. 🙂 I spent the day very present, in my own experience, with myself. It was quite lovely. I find myself wondering how best to incorporate that into every day, into every experience with myself…? I’m betting there are verbs involved. lol No doubt it will require practice. 🙂 I’ll probably need to begin again… a bunch of times. I could probably get started on that now…

…”Now” is an excellent time for beginnings. 🙂

Tags be here now, be the change, begin again, being and becoming, container gardening, emotional self sufficiency, good self-care, happy birthday to me, I am my own cartographer, meditation, mindfulness matters, p.s. I love you, perspective, practicing the practices, ptsd, read a book, relationships, sufficiency, taking care of me, TBI, The Art of Being, The Big 5, the map is not the world, there are verbs involved, walking my own path, what matters most?

Categories Brain Injury, Free Will, gardening, Healthy Living, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Spring, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5

One Last Day Before I Level Up

June 11, 2018 //

I love the metaphor that ages are levels, as with a video game. Tomorrow, I “level up” – just one last day of being 54, then… 55.

Age really is, in a very practical sense, quite arbitrary. There’s nothing much separating Monday from Tuesday except, I hope, a decent night’s sleep… still, I view Tuesday as special, because it is the anniversary of my birth, and Monday? Well, Monday is just the last day I’ll spend in my 54th year. lol Hell, 55 isn’t even a particularly meaningful or significant milestone year as far as I know, although it seems somehow significant to me, personally, without any obvious reason for it.

I am taking the day off. Having a mid-week birthday, and living so far from my Traveling Partner, and a great many of my friends, it’s not ideal for parties or fancy events. I expect to spend it quietly. Lunch out. Perhaps some sort of luxury personal care service (nails? hair? whatever, it’s fine. lol)… It’s not a birthday with any clear expectations or urgency. Mostly I want to spend it on self-reflection – 55 seems a good one for that.

Today I feel pre-occupied, at least a bit, with winding down this last bit of 54 before I level up. That self-reflection thing, again. The weekend was good for it, too. There’s a lot to consider. I feel merry. Wiser than 50. Nowhere near as wise as I may be by the time I’m 60, based on the amused “inside joke” looks and remarks I occasionally get from my over-60 friends. lol Today will likely be a fairly ordinary Monday. Maybe a package or two reaches me by Tuesday. I delightedly expect a little something or other from my Traveling Partner (because he made a point of saying it may not reach me by Tuesday, so of course now I’m waiting for it eagerly lol).

Today, though? Just a day. The last day of being 54. It’s only as significant as I make it. I make most days at least a little significant; I’m alive. That’s worth celebrating. 🙂 Today, I’ll finish off this project that has been being and becoming 54. Tomorrow? I’ll begin again. 🙂

Tags 55, be the change, begin again, being and becoming, birthdays, experience, good self-care, I am my own cartographer, level 54, leveling up, p.s. I love you, perspective, ptsd, sufficiency, TBI, The Art of Being, waiting by the mailbox, walking my own path, what matters most?

Categories Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Metaphors, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Spring, Summer, The Art of Being

Begin Again… Again.

June 10, 2018 //

I got a few things done yesterday, all of what I stayed home for, a few other things that really needed to get done, then… I stalled.

It’s been a thing most of this calendar year. I “run out of spoons” earlier, or hit some sort of peculiar metaphorical wall, and just… can’t. I’ve mastered “stillness”, but sometimes wonder if I have done so at the expensive of managing adequate effort. There is a balance to strike between understanding what must be done, and doing it, and also properly providing myself adequate self-care. This seems an obvious thing, and perhaps mentioning it is just extra words, but… once fatigue sets in, emotional or physical doesn’t seem to matter much, I lose considerable will and energy with which to continue to do. Inconveniently; I’ve got shit to do. lol

I woke this morning feeling rested, but had deliberately allowed all of the rather more costly pre-prepared coffee products of various sorts to completely run out; I know how to make a great cup of coffee, for fuck’s sake. This lack of effort needs to stop. So… I stopped it. Well, at least with regard to coffee. I had to properly be the adult in the room this morning and… actually make coffee. I fought that process every step with thoughts of grabbing the car keys and heading to a coffee stand, a coffee shop, a breakfast place… I kept the temptation at bay by also considering that I really wanted a good cup of hot coffee in a ceramic mug, fresh, perfectly delicious, not at all instant… no dairy… nothing fancy… just… coffee. Made by me. Without getting dressed. Without driving somewhere. Without spending money. The visualization of the realities of coffee in paper cups, and having to dress, then drive, before being coffee’d up were helpful; I just didn’t really want any part of that. So far so good.

Good coffee. Very satisfying. It’s already gone.

Next up? Everything else. LOL It’s Sunday, and although the housekeeping I’m fussing about is barely two hours of actual work, I’ve been stalling, or being half-assed about it, doing just enough to get by, for… weeks. (Months. It’s been months.) So, today? Today I recommit myself to what matters most to me, without any shame or self-criticism, and take a moment with the woman in the mirror, ensuring I’m not overlooking some urgent bit of self-care that may be standing in my way; averting my awareness from my own needs sometimes results in a peculiar refusal by my entire consciousness to participate in the needful task processing of daily adult life. lol Like having a recalcitrant toddler standing in my way constantly. Those unmet needs don’t yield so easily, and the lack of awareness holds the potential to slowly overcome me entirely with a fog of video-watching and scrolling through feeds numbly. Unhealthy. Unproductive. Empty.

This isn’t a situation that actually requires “troubleshooting”. I do understand what is happening here, and with the spate of recent suicides, I’m not willing to diminish the significance; I’m struggling in the sticky trap of long-term ennui that can develop in the aftermath of extreme or prolonged stress. I’ve got a bit of it culturally, just due to the horror-fest of shock and dismay that American politics and society have become (no kidding, it’s a thing), and then on top of it the regular upheaval week after week in my own community and social network this year… it’s been a lot to take, a lot to manage, and a lot to endure. I’ve done well – but I’m also tired. Rest, alone, is not enough; it has required both a lot of rest, and a lot of advance self-care, and I don’t always manage to make time for both.

Today I feel rested. I have a precise, fairly short task-based list of things that need doing, all very routine, and very familiar. It’s not even a lot of work… I just “don’t fucking feel like it”, and it’s time to get past that, because it simply needs to be done, and I’m the person here who is going to have to do it. lol Sometimes being the adult in the room is some work, and sometimes the work can be deferred, but eventually? It’s got to get done.

I’ve got my list. I’ve got my priorities. I’ve got the day ahead of me. It’s time to begin again. 🙂

Tags again, be here now, be the change, begin again, but you don't look sick, choose wisely, chores, emotional self sufficiency, ennui, experience, fighting the fog, get it done, good self-care, housekeeping, I am my own cartographer, I don't feel like it, I need more spoons, invisible injuries, just do it, make time for it, MBSR, mindful living, mindfulness matters, my home my rules my way, my results vary, OPD, perspective, ptsd, so human, spoons, sufficiency, taking care of me, TBI, the aftermath of stress, The Art of Being, the hidden cost of stress, the map is not the world, the spoon metaphor, there are verbs involved, walking my own path, what matters most?

Categories anhedonia, Anxiety, Brain Injury, Despair, Free Will, Frustration, grief, Healthy Living, inspiration, Logic & Reason, loneliness, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Spring, Summer, The Art of Being, War and News of War, Words

Tending My Garden

June 9, 2018 //

I often think of life as a metaphorical garden. (Isn’t it?)

I sometimes stray down the path without tending the garden.

The healthy tilth is a good starting point; planting seeds in crags and rocks may not yield a generous crop of fruits, vegetables, or flowers. Understanding what is fertile ground, and how to prepare ground for planting has value.

Composting scraps and garden waste skillfully results in more fertile soil… but which scraps are suitable, and which will ruin the compost? Not all that is waste or scrap is worth keeping.

Lush and beautiful, chosen with care. We reap what we sow, and how we tend our garden matters.

Choosing seeds and plants with care, understanding the climate, and the seasons, locally, in my own garden, really matters; however fertile the soil, planting something that can’t thrive in my climate puts my garden at a disadvantage.

A weed in one context may be a crop in another.

Taking care, every day, to nurture my garden, to fertilize when needed, to water, to cut back spent blooms, to weed out noxious or invasive intruders that consume resources, but yield nothing, matters greatly over time. If I am not present, some plants may thrive, willy-nilly, coincidental to the luck of the rainfall and the weather, but the outcome is left to chance – other plants will wither and die. My harvest may not be plentiful. My blooming season limited.

My roses suffer my lack of attention; this is true of most things that require attention.

Self-care works very much in this same way. I don’t suppose I need to spell it all out more factually – if you already keep a garden, you already get it. 🙂

My results vary, as does the weather.

I haven’t been home much, lately. Most weekends I am away. I travel to see my Traveling Partner, catching up with him wherever he is. I travel to see friends. I travel for this or that event or festival. I travel on a whim. I catch myself yearning to be at home, in my own garden…

…Yes, it’s a metaphor. 🙂

This weekend I am at home. I am in my own garden, tending it with care, making up for lost time, present, and appreciating this moment, right here. It’s enough to be here, now, and there is no need or time for self-criticism, or what-ifs, or if-onlys. This is now, and now is enough, and I am here, enjoying it with the woman in the mirror – who has been missing this quiet place, and time.

Be present. See wonders. Experience the moment, fully.

The morning started slowly, and auspiciously enough; I slept in. I woke gently in the twilight of a new day, the room turning light in spite of the curtains, as day broke. I got up. Showered. Found my feet carrying me toward the car as soon as I was dressed. Coffee-to-Go and a breakfast sandwich on a hilltop looking out across the countryside, with a view of Mt Hood beyond. Bare feet. Damp grass. Contentment. No firm plan, and coffee finished, I found my way to the farmer’s market, then heading home with fresh local strawberries, fully ripe – the sort one never finds in a grocery store. The scent fills the car.

I arrive home, smiling so hard my face hurt, in spite of the peculiarly moody dark sky, threatening imminent rain (that has only now started to fall, some hours later). I make a Turkish coffee, melt some chocolate, and feast on strawberries dipped in warm chocolate, sipping coffee, in my garden. I raise my cup cheerily at a robin who joins me, watching me from the deck rail. There is work to do in my garden, metaphorical or otherwise, and I have been away far too much for my own good. I finish my coffee, then finish the spring planting, finish the weeding, finish the watering, just in time to head indoors before the rain comes. I leave a strawberry, fat, juicy, and fully ripe, on the deck rail… in case of visitors. 🙂

Rain is definitely coming.

Inside, my metaphorical life-garden greets me, and here too there is work to be done. Untidiness has crept in, a corner here, a stack of paperwork over there, a piece of gear that was not put away, a book askew from all the rest, a stray sock left where it fell, unnoticed, and so much laundry that very much wants to be put away… I’m still smiling. It’s a good day to begin again. 🙂

Tags ACT, be here now, be present, begin again, being and becoming, breathe, choose wisely, emotional self sufficiency, gardening, good self-care, I am my own cartographer, listening deeply, MBSR, mindful living, mindfulness, mindfulness for beginners, mindfulness matters, my home my rules my way, observe, perspective, practicing the practices, ptsd, rain falls, reap a bountiful harvest, relationships, seasons change, sufficiency, taking care of me, TBI, tend your garden I'll tend mine, tending the garden, The Art of Being, The Big 5, the map is not the world, there are verbs involved, tilth, walking my own path, weed out noxious intruders, what matters most?

Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, Free Will, gardening, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Parables, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Roses, Spring, Summer, The Art of Being, The Big 5

Why?

June 8, 2018 //

Tuesday it was Kate Spade. This morning, I read that Anthony Bourdain has also taken his own life. I pause for a moment to consider the engaging chef whose books and television shows entertained and educated me. I enjoyed his wit. The headline “Anthony Bourdain Has Died” didn’t prepare me for the further information regarding his suicide. There’s a certain different ache in my soul when I read of suicide…

…I know what despair feels like.

Well, shit. It’s a scary, seriously frightening and frustrating world these days. I get feeling overwhelmed by despair. Some days it is hard not to. We will see, for days to come, articles about suicide help lines, and some analyses of what drives people to take their own lives. There will be salacious gossip about the lives of the fallen. Someone will share a recent article about the high rate of senior or veteran suicides. Most of the people who read those will shake their heads, and turn away, unaware someone dear to them is on the brink of making that major “life” decision.

Connect with your loved ones, your friends, associates, and coworkers. Be sure to mention that they matter to you in an authentic way, and be real about it. It’s not about hyperbole and fake compliments, and it isn’t necessary to use superlatives. Easier to straight up give voice to that thing they do that you enjoy, or count on, or appreciate, or wish you did as well – or, fucking hell, just have lunch, or coffee – make time. Be present. Don’t rush those connected social moments; they are what matter most in our days. There’s no knowing when someone may choose to check out, and while you may not be able to change their mind about it, you can, at least, enjoy who they are while they are here.

On the other side of the equation, please consider sticking around awhile? If you’re considering a firm end to the chaos, and stress, and trauma, and struggle, and despair… please, just for a moment, consider that there may be other things you have yet to try. There may be practices that improve your experience, even if they don’t change the entire world, itself. Incremental change takes time – please give yourself some. Someone, I promise you, will miss you if you go.

I stayed. There are a lot of verbs involved, but it has been, very much, worth it to have stayed. I’ll go on with that, with staying around I mean, because things got better. Things continue to get better. I can’t promise that for you, but I can assure you that choosing change results in changes, so long as you do the verbs. 🙂 Your results may (will) vary, and the changes you choose in life may be somewhat askew from the changes you subsequently find unfolding around you, but change is. Despair isn’t particularly sustainable, it’s just annoyingly difficult to see through when we’re feeling it.

There’s one irksome thing about suicide that never fails to leave me feeling bereft and discontent; I don’t know why. No, I mean… I don’t know why. That’s what leaves me feeling so bereft and discontent. I’m not sure there’s any solid “why” to suicide. Surely, people have their reasons. Many leave a note behind, but often those are not public, and even when they are public, they leave so much left unexplained – as if I think there is, or should be, a reasonable explanation when despair overtakes someone. Despair is shitty enough to be its own reason.

One more time, I let the “why?” go, and pause for a moment to say good-bye to a fallen soul. I pause for regret. I pause to appreciate, to mourn, to find personal solace after a time. I pause to be aware I am, myself, okay right now… as though it could creep up on me, and take me by surprise, myself…

…Then I begin again.

Tags ACT, Despair, don't despair, don't go, emotional self sufficiency, get help, good self-care, listening deeply, love, MBSR, perspective, practicing the practices, ptsd, relationships, saying good-bye, someone cares, sufficiency, suicide, taking care of me, talk about it, TBI, there are verbs involved, walk on, walking my own path, what matters most?

Categories Brain Injury, Despair, forgiveness, Free Will, grief, loneliness, Love, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Spring, Summer

Getting Started on Level 55

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One Last Day Before I Level Up

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Begin Again… Again.

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Tending My Garden

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Why?

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