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The Big 5 meets The Art of Being

April 12, 2015 //
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I intend to approach this one somewhat thoughtfully, and with great care, perhaps working on it through the day rather than dashing it off in-the-moment, over coffee.

Pausing to reflect on what is, what isn't, and what has changed.

Pausing to reflect on what is, what isn’t, and what has changed.

Yesterday was an interesting mix of personal achievement, small stressors, emotional moments, and OPD; it was short on connection, and long on opportunities to practice good emotional self-care, without being tragic, or overwhelming. The challenges of yesterday didn’t linger, or carry over to this morning. I am smiling, even though I slept poorly and too little, plagued by nightmares so vile and personal that more than once I sat quietly for many minutes, trembling, controlling my breathing and reassuring myself that it would be safe to return to sleep, while the denizens of The Nightmare City mocked me in the background. I woke this morning, free of any strain or lingering suffering, any hint of nightmares behind me; they were only dreams.

My Big 5 relationship values haven’t changed much since I recognized their importance and framed them up in simple words. The importance of Respect, Reciprocity, Consideration, Openness, and Compassion still seem obvious to me and still feel non-negotiable.  I’ve changed some, though, and grown as a person. I am more easily able to live up to my own values, even in relationships where those values are not shared, and in associations in which emphasis is placed on very different values than those I find comfortable, myself. I am more easily able to refrain from taking someone else’s values personally, too, a necessary skill in a world where free will offers so many options. My will to live my Big 5 is strong; I still need lots of practice. I am learning to treat myself with great kindness when I don’t live up to these profoundly powerful values in some moment; they are a lot to live up to, and I am quite human. There are more opportunities to grow, to improve on how I live my values, and most importantly – on how I communicate those values to others, set limits and boundaries relevant to my values, and express what I need from others to feel well-treated, appreciated, and heard.

There are going to be moments, and relationships, in which my Big 5 values are not shared, not honored, not valued – or just not reciprocated (as in those among us whose approach is ‘sure, I like it when you are considerate to me, but I have no intention of being considerate to you’ – a circumstance that plays out in the world with unfortunate frequency, in a variety of interactions). Commonplace, really, and an experience that tests my ability to be accepting and content, compassionate, and attentive to the actions that support my needs; being treated poorly can be very distracting from the things that matter most.  Why someone else has the values they do, why they take the actions they take, or make the choices they do aren’t really my concern. How I treat myself matters a great deal.

The path is mine to choose... or not.

The path is mine to choose… or not.

The journey from The Big 5 to The Art of Being is an exciting adventure. The path veered sort of suddenly, it seemed, and metaphorically I found myself at an unmarked trail-head, wondering whether the sudden feeling of panic and dread were just demons howling within; it’s not a journey my demons can make with me, and one by one as they fall, or take a more subdued tone, the load lightens enough for this more challenging – and more rewarding – change in direction. I am ready to enjoy me, myself, so much more than I knew I could, before now.

Opening the next door...

Opening the next door…facing the next mystery…taking the next step.

Let’s be clear; there are still practices to practice, self-care needs that require continuous awareness and management, choices to make, verbs to put into action… none of this is ‘over night’ or even ‘easy’; the most profound epiphany is simply a door left ajar, and it remains a matter of intent, will, and action to step over that threshold.  Progress often comes with new hurdles – moments of recognition that not only am I walking my own path (and must) but also that the direction I take is so exclusively my own I am also having to learn new skills to cope compassionately with relationships straining under the weight of change. Any increase in autonomy, in self-direction, and in improved boundary-setting hold the potential to be met with resistance, objections, a lack of understanding, or a lack of support; knowing this does not make those moments less challenging, and it does not direct my decision-making. So often it is tempting to yield, to give up, to say ‘okay, you win, I’ll just…’ – only… I won’t ‘just’, anymore. I have chosen to live my life, mindfully by preference and intention, practicing the practices that make that a reality – and like solar walkway lights in the garden, the small improvements in the quality of my experience over time, the improvements in emotional resilience, and those powerful ‘aha!’ moments when something works just as I had hoped it would, add up to something pretty wonderful, illuminating – and incredibly encouraging when I face the darkness that sometimes still catches me unaware.

Mistakes will be made.

Mistakes will be made.

The Art of Being is like an exotic destination vacation; I dream of reaching that place, I study, I explore the options for getting there, I investigate what it may be like before I get there… I practice the skills, thinking, and behavior that are most likely to take me there, with the fervor of saving up for a long-desired vacation; incremental change over time is a reliable mode of transportation on a journey of personal growth. I smile more, lately, as though sharing a precious secret with a very close friend. You know where this is going, right? That precious friend is the woman in the mirror; without her, not one step of this journey can be made.

Today is a good day to face the world with a smile, making my own way, on my own terms. Today is a good day to be able to count on myself to treat myself well. Today is a good day for change.

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Categories Anxiety, art and the artist, Brain Injury, Free Will, gardening, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Spring, The Art of Being, The Big 5, Uncategorized, women, Words

Broken by the Internet

January 29, 2015 //
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Yesterday had its challenges. New physician, time for a physical, and that means medical history questions. I’ve come a long way… it’s still hard to watch dispassionate professionalism morph within minutes to troubled compassion…then…appalled saddened dismay. It’s hard to answer some of the seemingly simple questions; the ‘when’ questions about surgeries become ‘why’ questions so easily. Questions about ‘how it happened’ easily become tears. I left my appointment really proud of my strength; I said things yesterday I’ve never been able to just say to a doctor before, and I didn’t need a tissue, just some time to breath.  It felt like a A+ on a report card. It felt like an achievement. I headed home feeling… proud of myself.

I arrived home feeling something too… only… what? My traveling partner observed fairly quickly that my demeanor and tone seemed a bit ‘on edge’. I held on to some hope that I could just get past that with some small effort… and then I just didn’t. Within minutes some perfectly unimportant moment of tension, resulting from a bit of miscommunication, turned into a PTSD reaction, complicated by a disinhibiting brain injury. I fell apart – how could I… why can’t it… why doesn’t it ever seem to end…? My traveling partner caught the emotional blast head-on, and performed a heartfelt act of emotional heroism; he rolled with it and supported me with a best effort that proved to be ‘enough’. Neither of us was aware in the moment that I might be reacting to my appointment – I didn’t take time to evaluate that sort of thing until later. I was too busy trying.

My dear love’s stroke of genius  – an intellectual distraction and a shared creative project – pulled me back from the brink of hysteria and rage, and along the way opened my eyes to a couple of things I may be able to use, for myself, later on (hint: there seem to be ‘lucidity’ gaps in the chaos these days; I am hoping to learn to take advantage of them).  I need time to think them over before I share more. Actually – I need quite a bit of time, to think a couple of things over that I have lacked ‘the time’ to really meditate on and process fully.

My choices reflect poor self-care practices, and I need a break from a whole host of small things draining my bandwidth and my emotional resources.  Specifically? I need back all the time I currently spend on digital information. It’s crept up on me over weeks and months – bad habits returning. So, I’m taking a short break from the digital empire, logging off social media accounts, distancing myself from email communication, and here, too… setting a specific expectation that I’ll be gone for a few days, taking care of me. Sort of an ‘elimination diet’ for the mind, I suppose.

The sun rises; even on the busiest morning, taking time for a sunrise matters.

The sun rises; even on the busiest morning, taking time for a sunrise matters.

Today is a good day to watch the sunrise. Today is a good day to invest in the very best self-care. Today is a good day to say ‘thank you’ to the people who support us, even when we hurt them most. Today is a good day to take a break from the world.

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Categories Anxiety, Brain Injury, Healthy Living, Love, Menopause, Metaphors, Mindfulness, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, War and News of War, women

Simple Pleasures

November 30, 2014 //
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It’s late, and the house is quiet. The weekend is over, Thanksgiving is past, and this moment right now is the space between waking and sleeping. I’m not quite ready to let the weekend go. I’m also not particularly in need of an audience, or someone with whom to share this quiet moment. My sharing, for now, is handled and this moment, now, is my own. It’s a very nice quiet one.

An annual celebration of light.

An annual celebration of light.

The loft has been transformed into a holiday paradise. There are very personal, particular, even… ‘magical’ qualities to the holiday season for me, that go far beyond jingles, sales, advertisements, tradition, marketing, habit, or expectations. I made the winter holidays my own, a very long time ago. Today, I sipped my last coffee of the day surrounded by colored lights, and fantastical glass ornaments of all imaginable sorts, quite content to enjoy the things about this holiday season that move me so much. I’ve tried hard for so many years, and in so many relationships, to share this particular experience, this magic, this wondrous transformative understanding of the winter holidays that is my own experience of it… I’m not sure that I’ve ever really succeeded beyond communicating with some modest success that these are holidays that matter to me. That’s enough. It has to be. We are each having our own experience.

Ornaments as metaphors; love is a lighthouse.

Ornaments as metaphors; love is a lighthouse.

For me, preparing the house for the holidays, decorating, setting up the holiday tree are more than tradition, or habit, or expectation; they are in important ritual in the cycle of my life, letting every year end on a note of warmth, love, generosity, appreciation, gratitude, and value – no matter how bad the nightmares, or how traumatic the reality. Each year I unpack the ornaments and treasure the moments I recall as I handle them, and look them over in the light. I place each one so carefully, considering even ‘now details’ and how the precious memories it holds fit the context of my life; I place some prominently, and tuck others around in the back where they are less likely to be seen, or asked about. Each year the tree is a monument to life, to emotion, to memory – to the content and meaning of life and love, experienced over time. Bits of sentiment, souvenirs, and trophies, too, perhaps; my life in glass and glitter cherished through the season, and packed away ever so carefully once the new year arrives.

Some ornaments are purchased, others are handmade.

Some ornaments are purchased, others are handmade.

I sat, hands warm and wrapped around my coffee cup, enjoying a moment of stillness and waiting on our evening meal, it finally became more real…how little need there is for any one else to ‘really get it’, so long as I am true to myself, my values, and I am accepted and valued within my relationships such that I can enjoy the experience that is my own without any particular hindrance.  A lovely moment, a gentle lesson in life’s curriculum; I almost managed not to wonder if I feel exactly precisely all of this every year, without being able to understand that I have, that I do, that I will… I did manage not to be frustrated with that thought, it too passed, and I enjoyed the stillness.

Holiday magic - everyone makes their own.

Holiday magic – everyone makes their own.

These simple harmless pleasures contribute to this amazing journey, enjoying them is part of who I am – and it’s one of the very best parts, too – I woke up to a better understanding about ‘experiencing’ and ‘sharing’ and how distinct from each other those ideas can be, and how utterly okay that actually is. It’s a nice idea on which to end such a nice day, such a good weekend.

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Categories Anxiety, art and the artist, Brain Injury, Free Will, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, The Big 5, winter, women, Words

Putting One Moment After the Other

November 4, 2014 //
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I woke up tired. I hear the sound of an unattended alarm clock going off, it’s been doing it’s thing now for about 10 minutes. I wonder if its owner is sleeping through it, or walked away having forgotten it was only snoozed, or… I’m sure there are other options in the gigantic database of possibilities and assumptions that makes up some portion of my brain. This  morning I only flip through them casually, and readily acknowledge they are all fictions until and unless one of them turns out to be ‘true’. There’s no assurance that any of them are true, ever, they’re just stories, generally. That’s what a lot of our experience is made up of – stories we tell ourselves.

I slept restlessly, and not very deeply. My arthritis kept me alert and uncomfortable much of the night, and I often found myself flexing my back repeatedly in my sleep – the way I did the night I broke it. The sensation wakes me again and again, feeling vaguely disturbed with the visceral reminder of that painful event. I’m okay, though, just a bit groggy and not very well-rested. No agita or weirdness to it, which is nice. I could do without the headache. I am still unsettled by daylight savings time, and it may take weeks before that isn’t a thing…until next fall. Spring doesn’t seem quite as bad, at least not in the abstract.

I had an interesting conversation with a young non-voter yesterday. She had suggested that voting seemed pretty pointless to her, and expressed her discontent with the way the nation is run. I pointed out that if the only people elected are old rich white guys, then choices, programs, and changes we get are limited to those favored by – and which favor – old rich white guys. We talked through the potential impact if ‘all the young people’ voted, or ‘all the women’, or ‘all the any-particular-uniquely-identified-demographic’ actually. It may have been a light bulb moment for her to realize that there is power in numbers – and the numbers always begin with one. It was an affirming conversation for me, too, but I find that conversations that end in favor of the opinion I have myself generally are. lol

Meditation didn’t quite shake off the irritability this morning; pain makes for a pretty irritating start to the day. My traveling partner sticks his head in the door and gives me a merry good morning greeting. He hears something in the tone of my reply and inquires what’s up. I admit to the pain frankly and simply and get a sympathetic smile and a good-natured “I’ll leave you alone…” It truly sucks on a level I lack language to express that a being so dear to me finds the only positive option on a morning like this is to keep his distance. I can’t fault his reasoning; it is the wiser course. It still sucks. I am grateful to know a love that respects my needs, even when doing so means distance. Love rarely walks hand-in-hand with reason, and I am privileged to love someone who makes that look easy, most days.

I hear the espresso machine grinding beans for shots that aren’t mine. It is a warm and comforting sound of hearth and home. The day begins.

I have no idea what these are... I find them festive and unexpected.

I have no idea what these are… I find them festive and unexpected.

Today is a good day for meditation, and taking time to nurture contentment. Today is a good day to manage pain with great care, and be mindful that I’m not alone in hurting. Today is a good day for sympathy, compassion, and kindness – sharing those doesn’t diminish the quantity on hand. Today is a good day to make good choices, and for harnessing my will to my values through my actions. Today is a good day to meditate more than I planned. Today is a good day to be kind to myself, because kindness kicks ass and I could use some as much as anyone. Today is a good day for perspective, and awareness, and consideration – but every day is, isn’t it? Today is a good day to change the world.

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

A Little Bit Different

September 4, 2014 //
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Here it is a day later. I got through yesterday without even one moment of tears, not one tantrum, and precisely and exactly just one moment of unexpected irritability in the afternoon, and I caught that before it flared up into something worse! Go me! (Is it appropriate to be this pleased about it?) I managed each detail of my self-care attentively, and when I arrived home after my work shift – shorter on Wednesdays, thankfully – I continued with meditation, a shower, some yoga, some calories, and crashed out prepared for the alarm to go off at 5:00 am today. As it happened, I woke a couple of times before then – once because I hadn’t figured out that although I was tired, I was also a bit noise sensitive. I got a drink of water, and whined about it briefly before returning to bed. I woke again in the evening… early enough to enjoy some refreshing slices of deliciously ripe mystery melon with my partners and our house guest, share some conversation and laughter, and hang out a few minutes before, one by one, everyone but my traveling partner retired for the night. I slipped off to bed ahead of him, too. I wasn’t surprised that I was tired enough to go back to bed. I gave Tuesday night 100%.

I woke this morning, ahead of the alarm, by a lot less than I guessed I had in the darkness. I woke with a song in my head and a smile on my  lips. I feel good. I have a slight headache – a residual effect of not being able to drink water in my sleep, I think. This morning I switch back and forth between water and coffee as I catch up on email (how do I get this much ‘real’ email in just one day?) and the world.

I had a very cool experience touching on perspective, love, appreciation of self, and all manner of nice self-directed feelings yesterday. To share it I need to share one detail about myself before I go further; I have poor facial recognition. Seriously poor. I can stand next to someone I love, scanning a crowd frantically to find them, and not see them next to me. I can walk up to a man I have been sexually intimate with, and not recognize him. I am more likely to recognize people from photographs, I think because of the higher involvement of pattern recognition ‘circuits’ versus face recognition, but I don’t know. Not my area of expertise.  So… there’s that. Then there’s the moment…

I was waiting on the platform for the commuter train yesterday, and when it pulls up, I did my usual thing; I watched commuters disembark and head on their way. There reaches a point when I am looking at them through the windows, instead of as they exit the door. I see a woman smiling, relaxed… she’s sexy. Not young, but confident, comfortable in her skin… she’s.. wow. Yeah. I’m standing there smiling back at this woman and we make eye contact… only… I realize as my eyes focus differently, and I’m really looking ‘at her’… she is merely my reflection in the window glass, not actually another passenger.  I didn’t fight that moment, as tired as I was I simply went with it, awake, aware…and feeling strangely ‘in love’ with this amazing woman I am looking at – even knowing she and I are one. I’ve felt a bit differently about me, since that moment. It’s a nice feeling, worth growing into and exploring further. It feels like a homecoming, and a welcoming back to something I have missed for a long while.

Where does my journey lead?

Where does my journey lead?

Today is a good day to enjoy progress. Today is a good day to enjoy love. Today is a good day to enjoy change and growth and things that seem scary from a distance – like change and growth. Today is a good day to enjoy the world.

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Categories Brain Injury, Healthy Living, Love, Mindfulness, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress
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