Archives for posts with tag: I am my own cartographer

I dislike argument. There. I’ve said it.

One perspective of many.

One perspective of many.

I enjoy lively discourse. I embrace passionate discussion of individual view points. I cherish intellectual exchange, and sharing knowledge or perspective. I learn; I grow. Argument isn’t those things. Argument is a failed meeting of minds, in which individuals continue to insist on their own view, their own perspective, and fail to hear each other, seeking instead to persuade that their point is the correct understanding, and only that outcome will satisfy. Argument is often emotionally bullying, and more about intimidation and insistence, sometimes degenerating to insult, deceit, or emotional manipulation, to “win” the argument. No one wins, of course, and generally someone – often everyone – walks away feeling hurt, or misunderstood. Argument sucks, from my point of view, and I avoid it. I also have a brain injury that leaves me very vulnerable to being baited into an argument – being made entirely of human, this has made learning to disengage very valuable, and I continue to practice, with varying results. The verbs involved are those that make use of emotional intelligence, intent, free will, a sense of perspective, and a commitment to good emotional self-care; it’s a lot to juggle during an argument.  Once I realize I’ve been baited into an argument, I do my best to disengage graciously, and without malice or ill-intent. We’re all so very human… and some people actually like to argue; I’m just looking for the exit.

I'd rather love and be loved.

I’d rather love and be loved.

Last night I got baited into a political argument that at first glance looked more “discussion-worthy”, having been initiated by friends that I feel comfortable with and trust. Once I recognized I’d been drawn into an argument (with a commenting family member), I worked to extricate myself politely. This did not go as planned, and I became frustrated and emotional, and hung-up on some of the peculiar tactical linguistics in use.

I prefer authenticity over game-playing, and made a frank (and fairly vulnerable) statement that I was struggling with the conversation, possibly because my communication-style, and TBI, were making it hard to communicate easily, and that I was tired and not at my best. I expected, based on years of civil discourse with other human beings, that this would bring the conversation to a friendly, compassionate close, between equals – we’re family, so of course, we all have each others well-being and best interests mutually in mind… right? Nope. Not an ideal assumption, sadly; instead of support, I got a personal attack. It was weird, and frankly unacceptable. Rather like telling someone on crutches struggling to handle a door and some stairs simultaneously to “grow up” and “get over it”… instead of holding the damned door.  I was told by way of reply that I was “playing the victim”, and assorted such things. It was, from my perspective, hurtful, awkward, and… not something I personally care to foster in my own experience, certainly not from someone who says they care.

We’re still all human. All people. Each having our own experience. Each making our own way in the world without a map. My “Big 5” relationship values aren’t something I just say; they are how I build my relationships: Respect, Consideration, Compassion, Reciprocity, and Openness. An authentic statement of vulnerability given openly, met with something other than respect, consideration, or compassion, tells me something about the relationship in which the interaction occurs. If it occurs with a stranger, I just walk on. I don’t find it necessary to tolerate callousness or hurtfulness generally. When it occurs with a friend very dear to me on whom I can rely to be a good friend, clarifying questions seem appropriate (miscommunication is a thing that happens), but if it turns out I am incorrect about the quality of the friendship in the first place, and clarifying questions reveal that, I am inclined to walk on.

There is no requirement whatsoever that we maintain relationships with people who don’t treat us well. We choose our relationships. I experience no sense of obligation to invest in or maintain a relationship that doesn’t bring out my best qualities. Here’s something about me, though; I extend that to family, too. I pretty much always have – I grew up in a world where family was no more to be trusted than any other human beings, and possibly less so. Much less. I don’t have “family loyalty” hard-wired into my thinking, because for most of my life people who said they love me have been the first in line to do me harm. A lot of people behave in a way that suggests they find it more acceptable to treat family members poorly than they do strangers (for example, treating coworkers or the boss with more affection and respect than their partner, children, or siblings). I’m not those people.

I wasn’t always the person I am now, that’s pretty basic and obvious. From the vantage point of this woman, here, now, I make a point to treat people consistently well – whether they are strangers, lovers, family, coworkers, or friends. It’s a practice. I’m quite human, and my results vary. I learned a long time ago, though, that relationships among equals require all participants to use their words – and their verbs – and to be equally committed to similar shared values, otherwise the quality of the relationship suffers. Where these conditions are not met, and upon discussion it is clear that they won’t be… I walk on. I no longer allow my desire for connection and intimacy to be turned on me. It feels better to walk on, and build healthy relationships elsewhere.

Generally, we each feel we are the good guy in our own narrative, building an understanding of ourselves and the world around us that smooths life’s harder to grasp gray areas into sharply contrasting either/or propositions. Human primates like certainty. Once we feel certain, we hold on like our lives depend on it. I think, quite likely, the only thing that actually depends on us holding on to that feeling of certainty, is our sense of righteousness and place in the world. While I don’t personally feel a need to be right (I’d rather be love and be loved), I recognize that many people do – to the point of needing an argument; I walk on.

Assumptions about other people are a major relationship killer. Doesn’t much matter who is making the assumption; most of our assumptions about other people are incorrect. Seriously. Even mine. Even yours. It’s a very human thing. When we insist on our assumptions, holding on to them and building our reactions, our responses, our words, on the backs of those untested assumptions, we are no longer having interactions with each other in any authentic way; we’re having conversations with fictional characters who only exist in our own narrative, and disregarding the living being before us. Well… that sucks. I ask questions, practice testing assumptions, and practice being my most authentic vulnerable open and real self – and practice doing so without hurting other people. Being human, I practice rather a lot, my results vary nonetheless, and I’m entirely capable of succumbing to the worst of my very human self and being insensitive, hurtful, or callous. I value relationships in which a friend can say to me “I’m very hurt by that” without games or baggage, and follow through with an honest conversation about our interaction, their values, their needs, our shared experience – such openness leads to understanding, and growth. As with argument, or my Big 5, we don’t all seek the same things from our interactions with others, and we are not all seeking change, improvement, or growth; sometimes the wiser choice is still to walk on.

One rainy autumn morning, suitable for reflection - and taking care of me.

One rainy autumn morning, suitable for reflection – and taking care of me.

It’s a quiet weekend. I have time for thinking, time for writing, time for a third cup of coffee. The calendar reminds me I’ve set the day aside for taking care of hearth and home, a day of housework and tidying up planned. It doesn’t feel like a burden or obligation; the rainy day beyond my window suggests it will be a pleasant day of music, dancing through chores, and a crackling fire in the fireplace, spent taking care of me. How delightful! We choose our adventure. We choose our narrative. We choose how we face our day, and our circumstances. Today I choose great self-care, and a day spent creating the order that feels so good to me. I wonder for a moment if my vulnerability to being baited so easily last night is in any part a byproduct of perceived disorder in my environment…? I walk on from that, too. It is a day for verbs, for actions, for choices.

Today is a good day to create order from chaos. Today is a good day for deciding what to keep, what to let go. Today is a good day to tidy up loose ends, and reconsider what matters most. Each new day I can begin again. Each new day is a new opportunity to walk on from suffering, and to practice being the woman I most want to be. There are verbs involved. My results still vary. That’s okay; it’s enough.

I woke after a full night of deep sleep, or… that’s my subjective experience of it, so… good enough. 🙂 My coffee is hot, and also less satisfying than I expected it to be, although it tastes like a good cup of coffee, in every way I can specifically name. My experience of life is peculiarly subjective in nearly every detail. The shower that felt so comfortably warm to me, might feel quite cold to someone else, or perhaps too hot. The time of morning that I wake feels like an appropriate time for it, and I often wake at just that time, without the alarm – a lot of people might find it much too early. Some might find it far too late. Others, perhaps, don’t see the value in sleep at all. So very subjective.

This morning I contentedly sip my unsatisfying coffee, appreciating the ease with which it was made, and the comfort in holding the hot cup in my hands on a chilly morning. I take a moment to be grateful for the means to afford some measure quiet, and to lavish myself with civility and stillness, so very often. I pause to appreciate running water, and the technology that lets me so easily communicate with the world. I smile to myself; while I’m appreciating things, why not also be quite grateful for all the things. There’s a lot. I could make a list – a very long list.

Enough

Enough

Lately, it seems to be a very pleasant journey, most of the time. I recognize, for a moment, with great clarity, that I would not be so able to appreciate this moment here, now, without the hardships and trauma that went before; I would lack the perspective to understand how precious this “now” really is. Today, I take a few moments on a quiet morning to savor life as it is, my life, thorns and all. Gratitude is a wonderful condiment at the table of life’s banquet, and I help myself with relish. 😀

I woke to the alarm this morning. I slept, I think, through the night. When I woke, my sense of things was that it was exceedingly quiet. The kind of quiet that seems made of anticipation, and held breath. I exhale. I inhale. I breathe. As waking becomes meditation, an almost automatic response to a feeling of ‘dis-ease’ (I remember, too late, the word “uneasy”), my breathing becomes deep, comfortable, relaxed – and reliable. Sometimes I hold my breath without realizing it (maybe that’s a primate thing, or maybe just me, doesn’t matter right now); deep, relaxed breathing, tends to reduce anxiety caused by not breathing. Go figure. 😉

I give myself a few minutes to “get my bearings” and become more completely awake. I am alone this morning. Not just alone-because-I’m-by-myself, but also alone because most everything is precisely where I, myself, have placed it, and where I expect things to be, and also because the bags and baggage of my house guest are no longer here, and stray odd things my traveling partner brought over, with few exceptions, are also returned to their natural places in the world, more or less; they are not here.  Unsettling initially; apparently it takes me about two weeks to get used to having to detour around stuff that isn’t where it ought to be. I’m over that, already, and enjoying the quiet greatly… and will shortly enjoy some music, some early morning housekeeping, a second cup of coffee… and missing my traveling partner. 🙂

Enjoying missing my traveling partner? How does that even work? I don’t have an answer really, but two weeks with a house guest, a new job, new routines, changing personal care needs, having to stock the fridge with foods I don’t eat, not being able to meditate easily when I want or need to, accommodating other musical taste, other agendas, other interests – and often at the expense of my own – and even being nudged uncomfortably into yielding too often to an utter lack of any semblance of planning, or being considered when plans are made in my absence (almost certainly not the actual literal truth, it just often felt that way)… I still miss my traveling partner, and I’m glad (at least in this moment) to have that luxury for some little while. I need a break to care for myself, and figure out just a little more about how to do so skillfully in the face of guests, family, circumstances, employment – all of the things. lol

The quiet this morning is so very… quiet. When I pause to savor this peaceful moment, I notice that I still hear the ceaseless sound of traffic, the commuter train, the hum of the refrigerator, the occasional patter of raindrops… no simple silence this, it is quiet within, as much as it is quiet around me. That’s the quiet that I’m seeking – isn’t it? I’m not really asking, I’m just noticing, not for the first time, that it is the elusive quiet within myself that is so… elusive. Right. I used the word. Sorry – still on my first coffee. I comment quietly to myself how much more difficult this quiet is to build, to linger on, to enjoy, in the typical rush of a busy work week. Coming home exhausted to find a party in progress has some delight to it, but very little quiet. This particular thing, this finding quiet in the storms and bother of a busy adult life, this is the journey. Well… it’s a journey. It is my journey. 🙂 You can have it too, if you want – we can walk on, together, separately. There’s no limit on who takes this journey, there’s no competition over who walks farther, faster, or who reaches the highest height, or purest moment of awareness; there’s no trophy. There’s also nothing to wait for – gear up, my friends! Whether you lace up sneakers or hiking boots, walk slowly with a cane carrying your coffee in the other hand or wearing a fancy name brand hydration pack, if you begin again – and then begin again – and then again – and every time you falter you walk on from what hurts, and you walk on from what doesn’t work, and you walk on because you enjoy your own forward momentum in life, you’ll find the journey unfolds in its own way… your way. 🙂 Don’t worry too much about the destination, it’s a thing that seems to change with fair frequency, and has the least relevance to the step being taken “now”. Now is enough. Are you ready to walk on?

For clarity – it’s a metaphor; most sorts of things I struggle with don’t require a literal departure on foot and miles of walking. 🙂 (Some have…) It’s a favorite journey metaphor, for me, because I do walk so much… perhaps you are a runner, and your metaphor for forward momentum in life is a bit faster? Maybe you travel passionately, and your metaphor involves planes, airports, far away terminals, and distant wilderness unseen by amateur eyes? This adventure called life is “choose your own adventure” on levels so deep that even the metaphors are yours to choose, although I’m delighted to share mine with you. 🙂 I like a handy metaphor.

My phone chimes at me, notifying me of… something. I’ve no idea what. I had my last phone for literally years before I worked out how I wanted all the notifications to sound, and which would be silenced entirely. I’m beginning again. I’ve at least “tamed” them for now; the sounds are pleasant. The sounds are also pretty pointless. For now they communicate nothing much, only that on some form of incoming communication media that isn’t the phone, someone is trying to reach me. LOL I have to check to see whether I want to check to see what it is. Hopefully within days, I’ll know by sound what message app is pinging my consciousness, and whether I care to respond immediately or later, without anything but the notification chime alerting me; it’s a huge savings in mental bandwidth.

Life has a certain amount of natural order. I sip my coffee and enjoy that.

Life has a certain amount of natural order. I sip my coffee and enjoy that.

It’s a Monday morning. There are practices that precede the commute. Today, it’s enough to practice. Tomorrow, I can begin again. 🙂

Let’s not talk about yesterday. Well… we could, but if we do, let’s only talk about the best bits, the fun of it, the things that worked, how we overcame a challenge, why we’re feeling good about the future – and if we don’t have any of that to appreciate, let’s take a moment to be right here, right now, and just breathe through the things weighing us down. It’ll pass.

I woke earlier than the rest of the household. I indulged in a rare (for now) luxury; meditation without a timer, on my cushion, in the patio doorway, watching the night become dawn, and unfold into day. Almost two hours later, I made a cup of coffee, feeling nurtured and enriched. I needed that so urgently.

My emotional resilience begins to erode quickly without my meditation practice; I don’t withstand the continued onslaught of human emotions, drama, assumptions, projections, noise, or even endure the ongoing presence of other consciousness’ very well without literal every day meditation. Having a house guest, and my traveling partner staying over, and parties breaking out at my place before I even get home from work has meant that I don’t have the quiet time I really need with any reliability, right now. This too will pass. I’m not even bitching – I get to spend a wonderful amount of time with my traveling partner. I don’t grudge him his human moments. We all have them.

He has his own perspective.

He has his own perspective; he’s having his own experience.

My walk this morning took me, new camera (phone) in hand, around and through the park. Autumn is showing up everywhere. It was lovely, and time well-spent. It’s enough.

Autumn is here.

Autumn is here.

Today is a good day to is a good day to breathe, and to practice. Today is a good day to begin again.

 

 

Yesterday was too much, a lot too much, and in a good way, which only made it more challenging to process and to wholly enjoy. Looking back on yesterday is still so intensely pleasing that it causes me some measure of actual anxiety, which is simultaneously somewhat amusing, and somewhat irritating, an emotional state of affairs usefully reminding me that I am… if not “unhinged”, potentially at least mildly at risk of having an unexpected emotional moment, inconveniently timed. I’ll be mindful of my humanity today, and treat myself well – gently, and with great compassion. I mean… I’ll make that a thing, in my awareness, and do my best. 🙂 Practices take practice.

Yesterday wasn’t so much fancy, or elaborately planned, or exotic; a party broke out at my place, unexpectedly awaiting my arrival home (surprise!), and to my great delight, all friends who are quite dear to me, my traveling partner, his son, a new personal device (my phone needed replacing, and the new one arrived), and although the din and the fun were exciting – and quite joyfully so – it was a lot to take. There was no place or time for meditation, or a few quiet minutes of conversation with my partner on “date night” – it was a celebration, though, among friends, and I had things I wanted to celebrate, for me, and so – party! Well-timed. Thoroughly enjoyed. I even managed to get to bed at an acceptable time to still get some rest, enough for a day’s work. Sipping my coffee this morning, I have no doubt I am loved, and fortunate to have a fair few good friends.

I sip my coffee. It’s different today. Quiet coffee. A fast efficient coffee maker stands on the counter. The process lacks the… ritual? The meditation. It lacks the meditation and formality of making a good pour over, but it is very quiet in the morning, with my traveling partner and son sleeping nearby. (The burr grinder is quite loud, and making a pour over at 5:00 am is a rude wake up call for those inclined to sleep, and the purchase was timed with sleeping visitors in mind.)

I fuss with the new phone a bit. Every iteration of new device is more… complicated. This one is lavish with options and features and things to sign into, to set up, and to configure. What a pain in the ass – and not something to delegate. Some human beings are very particular (looking your way, woman-in-the-mirror), and attempting to hand-off set up tasks results in aggravation later. This new device is “mine” right now in assigned phone number only; she lacks character, details, and quirks in the set up and configuration unique to my own needs. For one thing; I freaking detest audible notifications of most sorts, that annoying notification light is not welcome either, and I find haptic feedback buzzing my fingertips all the time damned creepy. All that stuff gets turned off on my devices, (I’ll check my phone when I please) and notifications get changed to options that neither irritate my nervous system, nor end up being unnoticeable (I just don’t ever seem to hear some ringtones).  So, it’s days ahead of periodically becoming fed up with some “feature” and “fixing it”, and moving on to the next when that next one bothers me.

Over time, an inanimate device becomes more personal to me. The result is a “phone” (a tiny super computer, really) that is part of who I am on a level that is probably quite inappropriate for my emotional health… it becomes harder and harder to let one go for the next one. This last grieved me – my damned phone almost seemed to “break up with me” in a very troubling way. (Usually, I let the phone go, not the other way around.) I doubt anyone noticed last night, as my old phone was being… de-personalized, when I shook my finger at her in passing and quietly said “I’m so over your bullshit. I’m done with you.” with tears in my eyes. It seemed a proper break up move, and I needed to let her go… It was still so very hard. I loved her.

Today is a good day to let the things go that don’t work – phones, stale metaphors, old leftovers, illusions, assumptions, a poor decision… There are things worthy of being dropped off along with the recycling and the trash. It’s a good day to walk on, from the last phone, the last job, old baggage, previous relationships – why carry all that with me? Sounds easy – it’s not that it isn’t as easy as it sounds; it takes practice, and verbs. Still… It is a new day, and I can begin again. New day… new phone… new camera (phone)… What does the moment hold?

New day. New camera. New settings. Begin again.

New day. New camera. New settings. Begin again.