Archives for posts with tag: MBSR

One more work shift, and then…

Soon…

I’m overdue for a few days out in the trees. Waking to birdsong Taking long leisurely walks that turn into vague concerns about being sufficiently up to the challenge and finish with a feeling of accomplishment – and laughter. Getting by on my own preparedness and self-sufficiency. Watching small forest creatures live their lives. I’m overdue, too, for being too hot, too cold, and having too many bug bites… yep. All of it. The aches, the pains, the moments of doubt, too. I’m down for all of that. The wakeful bits during the night, hearing something in the darkness, feeling uncertain – I’ll manage. I’ll enjoy the hiking, the reading, the sketching, the writing, the taking of pictures, and cooking by a fire. I’ll enjoy the stillness of unmeasured time. I’ll frustrate myself with the one thing I managed to forget – whatever that turns out to be, I’ll think I really really needed that.

Nights may be “too” cold.

Mornings I may feel stiff.

Yoga in the dirt? Eww… or… Meh. Okay. It’s really not a big deal. 😀

Ants… bees… spiders… mosquitoes…

Miles of trails.

Hours of quiet.

Measured distance from everything else that brings me closer to the woman in the mirror – no mirror required.

I’ll be back soon – Sunday, sometime, most likely. Then? I begin again. 😀

The destination is the journey.

It’s a lovely morning. Cool without being chilly. The sound of birdsong is carried over the meadow on flower scented breezes. The apartment begins to cool off quickly. I sip my coffee and wonder why I am anxious, without really digging at it ferociously…more a gentle sort of “Huh, that’s peculiar…” sort of a thing.

Beginnings are not all the same.

I slept restlessly, but I did get the rest I need. It’s a very short work week, since I have Memorial Day off, but also had planned my first camping trip of the year for next weekend. This “short week” is the likely source of my anxiety; there is still the same amount of work to do. I’m excited about my camping trip. I am overdue for really getting away, setting everything down, and taking my ease for a couple of days of unrestricted leisure out among the trees. I find that the same time spent at home doesn’t work out to quite the same result as time spent out there, surrounded by trees and plants, no device connection, and plenty of quiet time to meditate, to read, to hike, to sketch.

I sometimes find myself anxious out among the trees. My results vary there too. There’s no escape when it hits, it has to be mastered in some way, or at least endured until it passes. It always does pass. It is a lesson in beginning again. It is a lesson, sometimes in a literal way, in “turning the page” on my own narrative and resuming things just a bit further on. I have resorted, even, to simply writing “I am anxious in this moment”, then actually physically turning the page in my notebook or journal, and continuing to write. Sometimes this obvious trickery works. lol Most of the time it doesn’t, but peculiarly even in those moments when it doesn’t work so well, I still find comfort in turning the page on my anxiety.

Anxious moments are pretty horrid. They do come up with fair frequency, even now. The change, mostly, seems to have been that they no longer just grow and grow until they take over my entire experience, backing me into a corner, making me small. They remain, generally, moments. This is a bigger deal than words convey.

I look my anxiety this morning in the face with some wonder; it neither gets worse nor gets better to be so frankly acknowledged. In this moment, it merely exists. I breathe. Check my posture. Gaze out at the lovely meadow as the sun rises. Sip my coffee. Again notice the anxiety. Another deep cleansing breathe. The softness of the meadow breeze on my skin creates a smile that tugs at my face, competing with my anxiety for my attention. I yield to the smile, noticing the precious breeze. I keep at it, observing the simple delights of the morning one by one, between deep full un-rushed breaths. My anxiety begins to recede, initially as a peculiarly tidal experience, at first coming and going, coming and going, with my breathing. Over minutes it fades into the background altogether. If this were a bound paper journal, this would be the point at which I would turn the page…

It’s time to begin again. 🙂

Remember that day I said I need to get some rest? (Was that only yesterday?) I eventually arrived home from work, bone tired, brain tired, so tired… that down deep, long gone toward stupid & clumsy tired. I careened around the apartment for some little while. I don’t recall when I went to bed, but I can gauge my cognitive fatigue, specifically, by the disarray I woke to.

My cell phone was left on a side table and never recharged, fitness tracker carelessly left on its charger and never put back on, half a dozen coffee mugs left behind pretty much everywhere I paused thinking I’d have a cup of decaf…tea…broth… forgetting as the short evening proceeded that I’d already made something, and left it elsewhere. As I changed from work clothes to comfy clothes, I carelessly left things laying about, which is not my habit. My hiking boots in the living room, my socks oddly left draped on the shoe stand by the front door, my jeans draped over the side of the bathtub (?!), my top dropped on the floor and left there, my earrings on a bookcase… I can follow the path I took, from the front door, to the neatly stacked yoga pants and t-shirts in my closet, back to the kitchen – the cupboard with the coffee mugs was left standing open. When I did I go to bed? I don’t recall that at all, but I don’t guess my state of mind counts as “awake” to begin with. lol

I woke at 5:15 am. I slept in! (Yep, it counts.) I slept deeply, dreamlessly, restfully, and I had no intention of getting up so early… so I went back to sleep. When I woke again, to sunlight streaming into my room between the slats of the blinds, I eagerly got up for coffee… no coffee. I’d meant to go to the store last night. Clearly, though, I was in no condition to be operating a car, so I’m rather glad I didn’t. I throw on some jeans without any particular effort to be particular, and grab the nearest clean top and drag my brush through my hair, step into my sandals, and make a quick trip to the store for coffee, salad greens, and… tangerines. Why the tangerines? Why the hell not? (Actually, it is in part a rather practical thing; they are the right size for a serving without being cut in half, and they are quite delicious in recipes, too.)

I returned home, wandered about the place putting things right, and getting myself organized for a day of… getting organized. LOL I find creating order from chaos very relaxing when there is no deadline or agenda, so a day of tidying up, laundry, and housekeeping sounds just the thing for a relaxing day. At some point, the windshield replacement technician will show up, do that thing that needs to be done. I hear a contented sigh in this quiet room. Me. A side glance confirms what my lips reported last time I took a sip from my coffee cup; it’s empty. It’s a good time to begin again. 🙂

By the time I got home last night, my brain was just… done. I don’t even have any particular recollection of the evening, aside from a brief chat with my Traveling Partner. I crashed out a little earlier than “on time”.

I wake this morning to a gray storm-cloudy not-quite-sunrise of a dawn, after an interrupted night of otherwise deep sleep. The morning seems both very ordinary, and also a little strange, and a bit surreal. I have the peculiar subjective sense that I’m seeing things differently than usual, but can’t pin down anything obvious. A potential sign of mental fatigue requiring better rest than I’m getting. I’m not surprised, if that’s the case; I’ve been giving a bit more than all of myself at work for the past several days, working to complete a complex bit of analytical work in advance of a deadline. I haven’t been sleeping particularly well. I dream about work. I’m super glad this is the last work day in my week. I’m ready for some rest.

I pause to appreciate a small change that has developed over time; I am more aware of the rhythms of my experience. I more easily observe when poor quality sleep becomes, over time, an impediment to cognition and emotional balance. I am more likely to be aware when the pattern of my emotional “weather” changes over the course of the day, in such a way as to indicate I am more deeply fatigued than I may realize. I am more able to recognize when – and how – I need to step up my self-care, to support and nurture this fragile vessel for further lifetime’s enjoyment. It’s nice. (It took – and takes – practice, and my results vary.)

I think about a friend I know is suffering right now. I think about how far I’ve come, and how little certainty I felt then that my experience would change. I had no understanding that change could bring me to “now” – or that “now” could be this good. I still have some shitty moody angst-y despairing or angry or irritable, frustrated, rage-y moments. That’s what they are, too. Moments.

One moment of many.

Lately, for the past 2-3 days only, I’ve been waking feeling pretty generally content but finishing the day feeling moody, disappointed with life, frustrated, and angry without any particular cause that makes sense. It was last night, sitting quietly with my fatigue and making no point to distract myself from it, that I became re-aware that deeper, prolonged mental fatigue, tends to also coincide with that pattern of slowly losing emotional resilience over the course of the day. I am more self-aware and inclined to observe my experience without judgement these days, and it’s delightful to note that the pay-off seems, in this instance, that I will be able to avoid some unfortunate meltdown or freak out, that would ordinarily go down just at that point that I am not aware how deeply fatigued I am, at the end of some long (probably joyful and exciting) day, because instead I’ll get some damned rest this weekend. 😀

…I make a point of checking my calendar, of course… Well. Obviously, a weekend which I am counting on for rest is that rare weekend fully booked with events, errands, and tasks. LOL Shit. I sit smiling under my furrowed brown, chewing on my lip, mildly frustrated, a tad annoyed… I’m replacing the car windshield; a non-negotiable errand that needs to be done. No room for change there. An appointment with my stylist for Saturday… I could cancel a haircut and reschedule… but it’s hard to get those Saturday appointments. So. A great opportunity to point out how good self-care intentions go sadly wrong. You can say “I told you so” when I’m cross and moody on Monday morning. 😉

I won’t be running myself ragged this weekend, in any case. I’ll make a point of resting, and treating myself with care, gently, because I matter to me. Camping next weekend. My birthday the weekend after that. I suddenly feel tired before those events even get to “now”; my brain is reminding me to take getting some rest seriously. I sass myself silently with a smile and daydream about relaxing out among the trees next weekend. I’ll certainly get the rest I need then, but I know that doesn’t change how much rest I need, now. 😀

Fatigue changes the emotional weather, and the emotional landscape. Just saying. I have become more aware how important it is to get the rest I need.

Speaking of rest… it’s already time to go and do and be. One more work day – then rest.

 

I went to bed feeling sort of moody and irritable, and in a lot of pain. I woke smiling. No particular reason, although I suppose sleeping well and waking rested is reason enough. I have learned, over time, the value in enjoying what is enjoyable – and making a point of it – even something as small as waking comfortably with a smile is worth pausing to appreciate the moment. 🙂

I spent a precious hour or so in the company of my Traveling Partner last night. By the time I returned home, I found myself wondering moodily why it didn’t occur to me to invite him to stay over? I miss him greatly. It feels like a long summer ahead of missing him greatly. lol I will surely appreciate his presence even more when autumn comes. 🙂

It’s definitely been “summer” this week, so far. The apartment was hot when I arrived home last night – hotter than it was outside. I remind myself to ask my neighbors to give me a hand fitting the A/C in the window… then I second-guess myself, recalling the burglary in November; the one window this A/C unit will fit in is the studio window facing the park. The window through which a burglary relatively easily gained access to my apartment one rainy November afternoon…so… Do I really want to remove one pane and replace it with a piece of acrylic secured by a tight fit and taped in place, on a window that faces a public park lacking any impediment to the approach of strangers? How much risk is comfort worth? What would stop someone stealing the damned A/C? How annoying that I am even having this mental conversation? lol More consideration seems required.

I sip my coffee and watch the sky lighten with the approaching day. I start my playlist with a track my Traveling Partner shared with me yesterday. As I often do, I find another version that I also like, and prolong the joy another couple minutes. Somehow I wander into live videos of favorite DJs at huge venues, filled with huge crowds, light shows, all of the everything. lol I lose about 20 minutes before I realize I’ve been pulled in; a favorite track follows, and I am crying. I don’t know why. Heartfelt tears without any particular cause, perhaps just celebrating the strange sometimes fragile beauty of love and missing the company of its manifestation in flesh, over my morning coffee. I have emotions. I ride the roller-coaster.

It’s cooler this morning. The breeze through the open window quickly dries my tears; I’m not actually sad, and the tears didn’t last long. The playlist, and the morning, move on. It’s a good moment to move on, and time to begin again. 😀