Archives for posts with tag: incremental change over time
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A Few Well-Chosen Words

December 4, 2016 //
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Yep. That’s what I’m after this morning, as I sit here sipping my coffee – just a few well-chosen words. I haven’t got them. It’s an odd sort of morning, lovely, quiet – uninspired. I’m just a human, sipping coffee, watching the dawn unfold, content with the morning, with how I feel. Not inclined to reach for more, or find my way to less. Comfortable. Balanced.

….Two years ago, I would also have felt vaguely breathless and wary, waiting for the fragile moment to come crashing down in some random attack of drama or bullshit, unable to feel really comfortable, for fear of being unprepared.

…6 years ago, I would have been fairly certain that any such subjective experience was entirely the byproduct of psych meds I wasn’t sure I really needed (but taking them seemed to ease some things, somewhat… didn’t they?), and would be struggling with the experience, itself, as potentially “fake”, but too fearful of what “real life” might offer to seek change.

…10 years ago I could not have had this experience, at all. Between my hormones, my lack of in-depth study of my issues, symptoms, and concerns – a real lack of available knowledge to study in the first place – and the lack of emotional support in my primary relationship, things felt pretty hopeless much of the time.

Incremental change over time is definitely a real thing. We become what we practice – also thoroughly real, testable-y, reproduce-ably, demonstrably true. There are verbs involved, and seemingly endless practice. There are moments of failure and moments of “fuck it”. There are moments that seem unreasonably profound, and others that seem disappointingly practical. It sometimes feels like “an  uphill climb” – of the sort that on a summer morning looks delightful at the outset, but by the time the top of the climb seems near, fatigue and heat have set in, and it all seems so fucking tedious…but… there’s the top… just over there… only to find that cresting the hill reveals more of the journey, and another, higher, peak. There have been days when pain slowed me down, and days when the lack of pain resulted in over-confidence – and more pain, later.

…Still, when I pause, this morning, to acknowledge that I just don’t feel properly “inspired” to write, and really just set it all aside to consider the moment itself, this one, here, now, in the context of the entirety of my life… I can see it; I’ve come a long way. 🙂

Today is a good day to celebrate life. Today is a good day to enjoy the day, as it is. I’ll get some things done around the house, and later celebrate my Traveling Partner’s birthday with him. Today is a good day to enjoy the ordinary, the routine, the day-to-day of life, with a smile, and a moment of appreciation.

...as simple as we make it.

…as simple as we make it.

Today, that’s enough. 😀

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

The Source of My Discomfort

October 11, 2016 //
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This morning I woke too early, with a headache, and feeling uncomfortable and irritated. It’s a practical thing; I was awakened by the not-distant-enough whine of an idling freight train. It happens now and then. It is both intensely unpleasant, and utterly out of my control. It is also not a sound I sleep through easily… so… up at 3 am.

It’s almost 5 now. Though the whine persists, my anger and annoyance dissipated with practice(s): yoga, meditation (with ear plugs in, honestly), some quite housekeeping, a hot shower… and now, I hear the engine beginning to accelerate, slowly, and pull away. Finally. Culturally, and this is my opinion, we put (and allow) far too much emphasis on industry at the expense of quality of life. Noise pollution is a symptom. I wonder how many other people were wakened by the whine of the train this morning, maybe even not aware of what woke them, or why they woke with a headache this morning. How many bad moods in how many workplaces will it generate? I’m still a little cross about the noise; it’s hard enough to sleep well without that added to the mix.

a change of perspective

A change of perspective is needed.

I take a deep breath, and another, and have a sip of my coffee. I think about putting down roots. I think about my traveling partner. I think about the seasons, and upcoming holidays. For a moment, I even think about work. I let my thoughts pass through my consciousness without commentary or criticism; they are only thoughts. I have another sip of my coffee. I think about how fortunate I am, generally, and delight myself as some recent emotional highlights, beautiful memories, surface, are savored, and make way for the next recollection.

Simple moments of calm joy have value, too.

Simple moments of calm joy have value, too.

It was once a challenging practice to pause to appreciate, and to linger over, pleasant memories. Now it is a commonplace thing that I take time to enjoy regularly, and often find myself enjoying many delightful moments quite fully, in the moment themselves, without reservation or worry. A worthy practice, built over time, has become part of who I am. Although that was one desired outcome, it wasn’t initially something I felt I could count on. Incremental change over time is a thing; we become what we practice.

Where does your path lead?

Where does your path lead?

We become what we practice. Think that over for a moment… We become what we practice. Similarly, we tend to embrace as true just about anything we hear repeated a lot. So… if we hear and read hate, a lot, and we practice being hateful and angry, a lot… who do we become? Hateful angry people? Seems likely. Just saying; we can choose differently, and practice other things. It is literally that easy (and also that challenging).

What are you practicing? In your relationships – how do you treat your loved ones? Those behaviors are practiced. Out in the world, how do you treat others? More practiced behavior. When you interact through media, what communication habits are you practicing? When you filter events through your personalized world-view, more practiced behavior (and thinking) comes into play. What are you practicing? What settings do you tolerate in your ‘auto pilot’? Do you snap at people in the morning? Are you quick to anger? Prone to making assumptions? Attached to outcomes? Defensive or resentful? Dismissive, mocking, hurtful or mean? There isn’t much about how we behave (and how we think) that doesn’t at some point stem from things we practice, and in many cases practice quite willfully… It seems to me, this opens the door to a profound opportunity; we can choose differently, practice other things, become the person we most want to be.  This isn’t new thinking for me; I think about it a lot.

We become what we practice. We can change by choosing our practices differently.

I look back on the woman in the mirror with a certain amount of internal discomfort; although she has changed a lot over the years, we are one, and I still have to own some very unpleasant shit that I have said, and done. That’s part of the journey, too, sorting out the bullshit, recognizing and being accountable for poor decision-making, bad behavior, mistreating people, and making amends where I am able to do so… and where I can’t “make it right” in any practical way, making a sincere apology, remorseful, contrite, and honest about the damage done, and going forward practicing better practices.

Gracious sincere apology for wronging another is one of the most difficult practices, requiring a heightened level of awareness of another’s suffering, and compassion set to maximum. The more I grow as a human being, and the more I become the woman I most want to be, the more I am also aware of how human I am, and how much I have hurt others. Uncomfortable indeed, and certainly it sometimes warrants a sincere apology.

Here’s another day, and another journey. Today is a good day to treat myself, and others, truly well. Today is a good day to be considerate, and a good day to listen deeply. Today is a good day to be kind, compassionate, and gracious. If something goes sideways, and I miss the mark on any of those things, it’s also a good day to apologize and put things right.

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Categories autumn, Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, The Art of Being, The Big 5, Words

For My Next Trick

September 22, 2016 //
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I crashed out on time. I slept deeply through the night. I woke with the alarm clock, feeling alert, refreshed, and clear-headed, with my brain “firing on all cylinders”. Outstanding. I mean – it stands out, from recent mornings, generally. lol

My coffee is hot, sippably so, and tasty. My morning has flowed from yoga, meditation, showering, and dressing, to this point here, with my coffee and a few pleasant minutes to write a few pleasant observations about a generally pleasant morning. It’s Thursday, and I’m planned to be out of the office tomorrow, so I’ll be making today count. 🙂

I breathe, and smile quietly to myself. I sip my coffee. I feel content and prepared for the busy day ahead. My brain tries a relatively amateur sneak attack, whispering to me “this too shall pass” with a mocking tone. I chuckle aloud. It sure will. That’s just true. I’m even okay with that. Hell – today, itself, might end differently than it feels it is beginning. Even that feels okay in this moment of contentment. I’ll just enjoy this one, right here, thanks. 🙂

Getting started.

Getting started. Work requires verbs – the right verbs for the job.

Sometimes one or another practice will seem to require too much of me (meditation often falls into this category of practices), and I fail myself now and again, overlooking one or another practice that I actually rely on for physical or emotional wellness, and the result is usually quite exactly what I might expect had I actually planned to abandon that practice. I practice meditation because it benefits me over time. If I discontinue the practice, I lose ground fairly quickly in the area of emotional balance, becoming more volatile, more irritable, and less approachable. Same with yoga. I practice yoga because I benefit from it. If I discontinue the practice, I lose ground fairly quickly in the area of physical flexibility, mobility, and ease of movement, and that only takes a day or two. Each practice I’ve taken up and maintained has been maintained because that practice has specific value for me, day-to-day or over time – sometimes both.

Persistence is worthwhile – all that incremental change over time takes time, and beginning again is a thing that often needs to be done (in my own experience). No persistence means limited pay off.  It’s not rocket science. I mean, it’s literally not rocket science. Neuroscience. 😀 It’s true – there is supporting science for so many of the practices that work for me! I’m not a scientist myself, and I have built my reading list on the insightful work of minds far more educated in the science of the brain and of the mind than my own.

I expect to be spending a lot of time studying new things for a while, things outside myself, things related to work, to the world, to changes other than those I have fostered within myself and invested in so heavily over the recent months. New software, new processes, new teams, new projects, charting a new course in life with new peers and colleagues also working to make a difference. That feels pretty good… and a little strange. I find myself feeling I need to live up to my work – which feels both wildly exciting, and a little nerve-wracking. Delightful. A tad scary. I feel inspired – at work. How odd. Beautifully alien in my own experience. I am savoring the experience.

So. Today wraps up the first week on the new job. So far, so good – and that’s enough. 🙂

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Categories autumn, Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, The Art of Being

The Post I Didn’t Write

August 7, 2016 //
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This morning is a lovely cool sunny summer one. I’m enjoying my coffee slowly, listening to birdsong and watching the sun crawl lazily into the Sunday sky. I make a point of savoring this gentle experience, because this wasn’t likely to be the experience I’d be having this morning, just a couple years ago. This  morning, I wrote a very different post than what I might have written a year ago under similar circumstances. 🙂

A picture of night.

A picture of night.

I woke at 3:00 am to a dense core of raging anxiety consuming my breath. My body felt panic-tight. I sat bolt upright in bed, struggling for air, and wrapped in fear. A nightmare? Maybe. Maybe not. I don’t remember a dream, and when I woke I was alert – too alert for sleep. Too anxious. My brain immediately attacked me with all the ‘nevermore’ idiocy available from the darkest and most insecure reaches of my consciousness, dragging me from panic to despair like a horror film monster. I sighed aloud. Got up without internal commentary, or external tears. I shuffled into the kitchen for a drink of water, like an uneasy child. I medicated (cannabis is safe to use as needed). I didn’t fight back my insecure thoughts, instead I took them with me to my meditation cushion, sat awhile watching the cloudy night sky shift and roil overheard, breathing, focused on breath. I breathed in the cool night air through the open patio door. I breathed out the anxiety, imagining it a fog that would dissipate as vapor across the meadow. I gave myself time without concern for the hour, and let myself settle down in my own time. I don’t know what time it was when I returned to sleep. The night sky was still quite dark.

Here it is, morning, and it is a lovely one. I never quite know how to communicate how much difference building a good meditation practice has been for me. Or how much difference it made [for me] to give up psychiatric pharmaceuticals in favor of improving my self-care, and getting real therapy. Pills didn’t solve anything, or even really improve anything; they slowed everything down. The Rx pharmaceutical drugs were poisoning me, impairing my ability to create, and stalling my growth as a human being. Without also having real therapeutic support of some kind they were chronically useless, and probably killing me very slowly. (My opinion here is related to my experience only, your results may vary, and I am not a medical professional; my opinion does not have the weight of scientific fact, and should not be used to make decisions about your own prescription medications and whether to take them! If you have doubts, please talk to your physician. If you don’t like their answer, please get a second opinion – this blog should not be considered medical advice of any kind!)

My first cup of coffee is finished. The sound of the wind chime through the window charms me into listening awhile. I lose the thread of my writing… I decide to move on with the day from here.

Today is a good day for a second cup of coffee, and a leisurely moment. Today is a good day to enjoy the value of incremental change over time, and a moment of celebration with the woman in the mirror. Will it change the world? I don’t know, probably not, and I am willing to wonder, and to enjoy today. 🙂

 

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Categories Anxiety, Brain Injury, Free Will, gardening, Healthy Living, medical marijuana, Menopause, Mindfulness, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Sleepless Nights, The Art of Being, The Big 5, women

Waking Up Slowly

July 6, 2016 //
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Sometimes I have the sense that the entirety of my life is a process of waking up slowly, but in the case of this morning, the titular remark is an observation relevant only to the morning I face now. This one. I woke really early and went back to sleep. I woke a bit later, on time for taking my morning medication – which I did – then I went back to sleep. I woke about 90 minutes later, again, found another comfortable position. Went back to sleep. This repeated until some minutes ago… when I woke, and after looking at the clock, pulled myself upright to begin the day, rather arbitrarily. I think I could have kept sleeping.

I woke slowly. I woke puzzled by the utter quiet. I still don’t hear any traffic, really, just bird song. The on site contractors working on this and that haven’t yet arrived, and there’s no sound of neighborhood children heading to school… It’s quite peculiar. I make a point to listen – I do hear birdsong. I hear my fingers on the keyboard. The morning is such a quiet one, even with the windows thrown open to the morning breezes, that I easily hear the goose neck kettle finish it’s part in the making off coffee – no whistle, no alarm, just a quiet ‘click’ from the kitchen.

My coffee is good. I sip it contentedly and let the morning slowly come to life. I think about yesterday, and consider what I learned from it, and all the many mysteries that remain. It wasn’t actually a ‘bad day’ or even a ‘bad experience’ being at the VA yesterday, generally speaking. I got my imaging done, and took some interesting pictures while I was waiting. I don’t know more about my health than I did before. I’m still waiting. I’m not at all sure what to make of that. There’s probably something to learn from it. 🙂

Something... something... perspective. (Give me a break, I haven't had my coffee, yet!) :-)

Something… something… perspective. (Give me a break, I haven’t had my coffee, yet!) 🙂

I arrived home incredibly cross on this whole other aggravating level. I canceled plans with my traveling partner; I wasn’t fit to be around, honestly, and I’d have gotten as far from me as I could, if that were an option. My irritability didn’t last, once I undertook to care for my needs. There is no place at the VA convenient for using cannabis, the grim hilarity of which is not lost on me (it’s the only drug I know that actually works effectively on many PTSD symptoms), and I arrived home seriously under-medicated for my stress level. My blood sugar wasn’t an issue, and I was pleased that I’d managed that piece with such care. My noise sensitivity was through the roof – doesn’t matter if that was caused by being under-medicated or due to the stress, resolving either would ease it. I felt angry-but-not-at-anything-specific, and more than anything I just needed quiet in an environment with a lot less stimuli – particularly social stimuli. Public transportation is crowded, noisy, and emotionally loaded during rush hour. Once I was home, it was not-quite-easy to take care of my needs, dial down my stress, ease my frazzled nerves, and find my way to feeling okay, again. It was a nice change to be able to re-calibrate my mood successfully.

Work in progress - like me. :-)

Work in progress – like me. 🙂

Now, here’s today. What’s to be done with that? My knee aches from the long Monday hike, and I’m walking with my hiking staff for support for a few days. The apartment could use some tidying, and there’s laundry to be done. I’m in the middle of an art project I’m emotionally  invested in. I’ve taken up bass guitar, and – well – practice is a necessary thing. I have one appointment, later. The knee is an inconvenience, were it not for that the day plans itself easily walking to the appointment, from the appointment to the store, and home… maybe I can manage that in spite of the knee, taking things slowly and with great care? There’s time. It sounds like a nice day, actually…but it won’t feel so nice if I over-commit, and find myself a mile or more down the trail, unable to continue due to pain. Yoga first and reassess? That seems a wise choice. I finish my coffee feeling purposeful, still wrapped in contentment.

I’m hopeful the day will include a visit with my traveling partner, but I’m not so invested in it that I would be blown off course if the day takes a different turn. That’s a lovely level of flexibility and resilience to have – I’ve worked at it for a while now. Success feels very comfortable. Natural. Learning to let go of attachment, and becoming more emotionally self-sufficient, has been entirely worth making the effort to sort myself out, find out how worthy I am of my own company, and to become a woman I am entirely content to hang out with day-to-day, on my own. 🙂  Still… I miss my partner when we’re apart, and I’m eager to enjoy his company, if not today, then another day – any other day. 🙂

It's a good day for practicing effective practices.

It’s a good day for practicing effective practices.

Today is a good day for sunshine, and getting things done. Today is a good day to smile at strangers. Today is a good day to be the change I wish to see in the world. Right now? Right now is a good time for a second cup of coffee. 😉

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Categories art and the artist, Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, medical marijuana, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, The Art of Being
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