Archives for posts with tag: meditation

Staring at a Blank Page

November 15, 2016 //

The alarm woke me. I wasn’t sure what that seriously irritating noise was, initially. I was in motion, uncoordinated and stumbling, before I was quite awake. I remind myself to grab my hiking staff before I leave for work; on the slick pavement I do well to have the additional support. Uncertain footing over rain-slick autumn leaves has been slowing me down.

Uncertainty has been slowing me down. Oh. Right. Yes, actually, it has.

On the other hand, feeling certain is not necessarily of value, on its own. If I embrace a bullshit idea, and bolster it with a feeling of certainty and conviction, my feelings don’t change the character or quality of the idea itself, and my feelings are not enough to make a bullshit idea a great idea, or to convert belief into fact. How I feel about something and the thing about which I have feelings are quite separate, and independent of each other.

a random picture from along the morning commute

I smile and sip my coffee. My thoughts move on.

This morning a steady rain falls. I open a window to listen to the rain. The rain stops. Yesterday that might have peeved me. I never did develop a clear understanding of what was on my mind yesterday, though. It seems to have passed at this point, like a rainstorm in the darkness; unseen, but still affecting me, until it finally passes by without revealing itself.

The rain-fresh air fills the apartment. My coffee tastes good. There are dishes yet to do, and some tidying up before I head to work. There is still time for it, and time to meditate, too. One morning among many… I wonder where this one leads?

Tags be here now, be the change, begin again, being and becoming, choose wisely, emotional self sufficiency, experience, good self-care, I am my own cartographer, meditation, mindful living, mindfulness, perspective, practicing the practices, ptsd, sufficiency, taking care of me, TBI, The Art of Being, there are verbs involved, what matters most?

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

Unease in the Morning

November 14, 2016 //

My anxiety woke me during the night. No particular reason, as far as I could tell… perhaps my anxiety was concerned I’d forgotten it? No matter. I got up for a few minutes. “Checked for monsters.” Went back to bed. My sleep was restless. I woke feeling out of sorts.

“Anxiety” 10″ x 14″ – and she feels much bigger than that, generally.

I sip my coffee discontentedly mired in suspicion and unease. This isn’t about “reason”, and I don’t go looking for reasons. If I were to allow myself to yield to the temptation to “figure this out” in the early morning, before I’ve really quite woken up, before I finish my first coffee, I would be inviting the sort of deep down personal attack on myself that wells up from the dark corners, where the chaos and damage still lurks. It’s neither necessary nor helpful to “figure this out”; these are emotions, and I’ve just awakened from a night of troubled sleep…so… yeah. Nothing to figure out, really. I’m feeling.

This is a good morning to breathe, relax, make room to allow myself to feel my feelings without acting on them, and let them go without attachment to them.

My thoughts shift. I write some about emotion. I write about reason. I doubt the value in my words and delete all of it. I feel myself full of doubt. My nightmares, too, were full of doubt. Doubt and unease and insecurity. I breathe, relax, sip my coffee. It’s hard not to pick at those feelings, like tiny wounds. Experience suggests my wisest course is to make room for them, be open to what I can learn from them, and to maintain perspective – the broad deep perspective of 53 years that understands that this too will pass, and that emotions are more like street lights than news stories. Experience suggests letting the emotional content of my dreams color my day is a poor choice, and unnecessary – I commit to choosing differently. That used to sound like an impossible task, now I understand it as a practice. My results may vary.

I make some notes, on paper. I list the emotions and feelings quickly, without any deeper intention. I review the list, and next to each, write an emotion or feeling that amounts to a “conflict of interest” in the sense that the existing uncomfortable emotional experience can’t “compete” or continue to hold my attention were I to fill up on the other. Insecurity is the easy example, since its “opposite” experience is fairly easily identified – security. Feeling secure versus feeling insecure, feeling emotionally safe versus feeling uneasy… and having identified the preferred experience, I will cultivate that. No need to tear myself down for the emotional experience I’m having now, I will build something different, by choice. Small changes sometimes get big results.

Dismissing my feelings out of hand is ineffective; emotions tell me things about my experience, and how that’s working out for me, and although they are not a reliable source of information (because they lack precision and simple clarity, and because sometimes they are simply a byproduct of skewed biochemistry) they are my early warning system that emotional inclement weather may lay ahead. A night of nightmares and unease may mean I’ve got something on my mind that needs my attention, that I may be overlooking or avoiding. (And it may not.) Tonight will be soon enough for all that. It is an unfortunate truth of adulthood that sometimes work comes first. I sigh aloud, and sip my coffee.

My emotional life belongs to me. How I treat myself is a choice I make. The relationship I build with myself is singularly intimate, and colors every relationship I have with others. Being present, awake, and aware, in my experience with the woman in the mirror has its own unique challenges – and value. There are verbs involved.

Begin again.

Today is a good day for emotional self-sufficiency and continuing to cultivate emotional intelligence. Today is a good day to be present and engaged in this moment, here. Today is a good day to change the world, even if only in the tiniest way, in one single moment; every change matters.

Tags anxiety, anxiety in the morning, be here now, begin again, breathe, emotional self sufficiency, everybody wants to rule the world, MBSR, meditation, mindfulness, mindfulness for beginners, perspective, practicing the practices, ptsd, relationships, taking care of me, TBI, the map is not the world, there are verbs involved, uneasy, what matters most?

Categories Anxiety, art and the artist, Brain Injury, Free Will, Logic & Reason, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, The Art of Being, Words

Well, Now What?

November 12, 2016 //

You still here? Me, too. 🙂 I needed to take a couple days to shore up my emotional reserves, to take care of my very human heart, to reach out to friends and connect, share, and build.

What an ugly bridge-burning election year it has been. Some of my relationships won’t recover; I don’t maintain relationships with people who mistreat me, these days, and where the heated rhetoric finally crossed my boundaries and became abusive, cruel, mocking, or emotional mistreatment, I have chosen to take care of myself, stay true to my values, and ended those relationships. Yes, even with family members. No one gets a pass on abusive behavior. Tolerating abuse is how so many of us get so fucking wounded in the first place.

Yesterday was Veteran’s Day. I could have written something… I could have re-posted something I’d written before. I didn’t feel moved to do either. I didn’t much want to think about war. I didn’t go out at all. I honestly didn’t want to risk having to be thanked by some well-meaning clueless citizen this year, thanking me for my service with absolutely no understanding whatsoever of what exactly they are thanking me for, and no understanding what their “thanks” has cost me (and so many others). Most people just don’t know, don’t care to know, wouldn’t get it if I tried to tell them – and their thanks is a hollow platitude at best, even when entirely well-intended and heartfelt; many of them won’t follow-up in the polls, with their representatives, with their dollars – or even with their basic decency, day-to-day. (If you’re bitching about the homeless panhandling in your neighborhood, and taking no productive steps to assist and support those human beings, you may as well stop thanking veterans at all, just saying.) Yesterday, I did what I could so that the only thanks I was exposed to was from my brothers and sisters at arms, and those few others who have looked into the face of war, and actually understand. The rest? Deserves to be heard by someone who will value the sentiment.

Each morning I begin again. Each morning it is easier, and I feel more settled, more resolved to continue to steadily pursue change, more committed to being the woman I most want to be. Incremental change over time; we become what we practice. I don’t practice hate. I practice treating myself and others well. I practice speaking up about my boundaries clearly, simply, and without compromising my values. I practice intervening when I see others being mistreated.

My meditation practice has continued to serve me well. Just the simplest practice of sitting quietly, breathing comfortably, and letting my thoughts come and go without criticism, evaluation, or attachment, provides welcome relief from becoming emotionally spun up on some new bit of social upheaval. Yesterday, I spent hours apprenticed to a master…

I invited a squirrel to visit. She hung around all day, and shared her wisdom.

Funny how little stress there is, even in the most terrifying world events, when I remain engaged and present in this moment, now. I spent the day practicing. Meditating. (Taking pictures of my visitor.) I chose my entertainment with care. I began making holiday cards for the upcoming Yule holiday. Life goes on – it has to, or what’s the point? Living my life still has to be part of living my life, right? These moments, here, spent engaged and present, rather than fractured and distracted by the media, by advertising, by life’s busy agenda elsewhere, these moments here are the ones that matter most. Remember to take time to enjoy yours. 🙂

She doesn’t spend much time on Facebook, and doesn’t read the news.

Today is a good day to be awake, aware, and present in the only moment that really matters; now. I think I’ll go do that… Today is a good day for brunch. 😉

Tags be here now, be love, be the change, begin again, being and becoming, breathe, choose wisely, emotional self sufficiency, experience, good self-care, I am my own cartographer, meditation, mindfulness, perspective, practicing the practices, ptsd, sufficiency, TBI, The Art of Being, walking my own path, what matters most?

Categories Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, The Art of Being, War and News of War, Words

Begin Again

November 10, 2016 //

Right. I’m awake. It’s a new day. I sip my coffee and take a moment to breathe. I adjusted my plans for the day to give myself a little more time to take care of myself at a very high priority.

One day ends.

Yesterday was hard, and after a day of carefully maintaining perspective, and sharing moments of compassion and support with similarly stressed out colleagues, it was clear I’d need a bit more of my own time for me. My traveling partner is understanding about it. There was no point adding to his stress by sharing that I’d barely cross the threshold when I crumbled and wept for 15 minutes or so, before I could even pull myself together enough to reach out to him. There’s no shame in tears, and the catharsis was a needed moment of its own.

The hardest part about yesterday, for me, wasn’t work, or what I heard and saw out in the world. It was Facebook. It was family. It was the gloating of people I expect to count on affectionately – because they are on my Facebook friends list – and found myself treated dismissively, or callously. Some people were so invested in celebrating their victory, they were not able to understand that many of the folks suffering over it were not even (at all) going on about losing a fucking race – they are frightened or angry about much larger things, and have the perspective that those situations or issues just got potentially a whole lot worse (the, um, flip side of celebrating because you think life just got better with the candidate of your choice in office). Scary shit to find myself being honest about why I’m anxious and faced with an astonished “is this post real?” sort of reaction – as if it’s just not even believable that there is suffering in the world. It hurt, a lot, to be implicitly told, yet again, by a chorus of men who will never face the issues women face that those issues don’t exist, or are an exaggeration, or hey, grow a thicker skin! By the end of the evening I was shopping for firearms, figuring “why should I have to be out in the world surrounded by people who think my consent is irrelevant without the means to quickly and firmly ensure they understand my boundaries are very real?” Fear and a lifetime of subtle repression (and some not-so-subtle) and harassment roiled together and boiled over as the minutes ticked by.

I shut down the internet. I wept awhile. I meditated longer, finally actually finding sleep somewhat later than I ordinarily would. No nightmares, and I woke ahead of the alarm, with enough time for a leisurely shower and a short walk in the pre-dawn gloom of a chilly and damp autumn morning. The mist wrapped me in my thoughts. I returned home with a smile and made coffee. I am okay, within myself. I feel some trepidation about the future. Angry people elected #45… I find myself wondering if that’s a teachable moment? For me, personally, I mean… I work so hard to find balance, to redirect and defuse anger with intellectual curiosity, compassion, and mindfulness… I’ve allowed myself to be silenced a million times rather than be a source of conflict. Have I created the world in which women’s voices are silenced by implicit rule without consequence? No, of course, not – but I’ve supported it, fed it, kept it going. Could I make better use of my anger? It’s something to think about further in days to come.

There are verbs involved if we want the world to change. Talk is sure a verb, but… it’s not a solid driver of change. It’s more like the scenic route. Slow steady culture change does build on conversations, on dialogue, on words and writing and skilled oratory… but… yeah. Slow. Really slow. I mean… how quickly would women have gotten the vote if women had only talked about it? It’s possible, based on angry choruses of taking away our votes, in 2016 (yeah, that happened). “Well, that’s just election year rhetoric! You can’t take that seriously after the election is over.” Um… yeah, I can. It was actually said, and with real conviction, by people who meant it when they said it. I can totally take that seriously – and I do. So, this morning, I find myself asking – like a lot of people probably are – what do I do about “all of this”?

I begin again. My values are what they are with good reason. The election doesn’t change who I am, or what I value. #45 is my president, too, whether I like it or not – and conversely, whether he likes it or not, either. Verbs, eh? I smile, and recall a great video (very much on point, election-wise) about truth, and the things we think are “true”. I commit to sitting down with myself, verb-wise, and laying out in very simple (about a 4th grade reading level) phrases for what I want from my government and my president. Really simple. “Fund Planned Parenthood” “No Electoral College” “Protect Social Security” – that kind of simple. I will get my thoughts really clear, and I will begin writing postcards (exposing the words and phrasing to everyone that handles them) and I will begin mailing them to representatives, to #45, and beyond. I’ll include them in my signature block (on a rotation). I’ll say them aloud. I’ll leave hand-inked art cards around here and there, with these simple phrases, and I’ll just keep at it. Again. Again. Again. Everywhere I go. Repetition is learning. We tend to think what we’ve heard a lot is true. That’s usable practical science right there.

You probably have ideas of your own. Do those things. Raise your voice! If you weren’t heard – say it again. Were you shouted down? Put it in writing. Memes are powerful, too; this election saw a clear demonstration of that principle in action. Add a repeatable slogan to an engaging image and it spreads like a virus and people begin to repeat the words with conviction, as though they are “truth”, and often without fact-checking. Are you more of a meet & greet sort? Get out there and say words to real people! Throw parties – and make conversation meaningful, powerful, and memorable! Live the change you want to see in the world. Offended by racism? Call it out when you see it, and be a strong ally for a diverse group of friends and associates. Offended by religious intolerance and faux-patriotism? Point it out when you see it, and just keep at it. It’s the persistence that has so much power. Carry that torch every mile you can.

Your words matter. Your actions matter. Your voice matters. You matter.

A new day begins.

It’s time to begin again. ❤

Tags are you going my way?, be the change, begin again, being and becoming, breathe, choose wisely, choose your weapons, emotional self sufficiency, I am my own cartographer, meditation, mindfulness matters, perspective, ptsd, sufficiency, The Art of Being, the map is not the world, there are verbs involved, walking my own path, what matters most?, words words words, you don't tell me!

Categories Anxiety, autumn, Free Will, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, The Art of Being, War and News of War, women, Words

Start With Joy

November 6, 2016 //

Daylight Savings Time is pointless and it sucks. Moving right along…

Yesterday’s dawn broke through the gray sky before rain took over the day.

I started this morning early, restlessly trying to sleep later, having forgotten about daylight savings time, and not really understanding the lie my clock was telling me; I’d already reset it, and struggled to understand why I was so awake, seemingly “so early”. I got up and stumbled around groggily for a few minutes. Tried to go back to sleep, figuring… Sunday, groggy, that could mean more sleep… Nope. I got back up minutes later, once it was clear my monkey mind was up for the day. lol Coffee and music began my solitary morning. No heartache there, I’m just aware I am alone, after two lovely mornings shared with my traveling partner.

Autumn is a good season for choosing joy.

I scrolled through my Facebook feed rather mindlessly, skipping over the provocative bullshit propaganda memes and political posts; it is too early for any of that. I smile at family photos as I scroll past them, too. It is too early for anything but smiles and sipping coffee. I’m looking for things to enjoy, simply that.

Neither savage downpours, nor depressing drizzles can stop us embracing joy.

Neither savage downpours, nor depressing drizzle can stop us embracing joy.

My traveling partner is enjoying his creative side this year, and I am quickly distracted by the recollection of shared joy, and hours recently spent listening to music together. I move on from Facebook to the vast available information of the internet, looking for favorite booming bass lines to share with him. I feel content, and wrapped in joy.

Embracing inspiration, connecting, sharing – and finding joy.

Joy. It’s a lovely feeling to pause for, to really appreciate – it can be fleeting. That’s okay, too; change is. Those fleeting moments can be savored, and the time I take to really appreciate the experience of joy (whether during, or after the fact) not only holds the potential to improve my implicit emotional biases, generally, but also to improve my capacity to feel joy in the first place. quite specifically. Nice. It’s a powerful practice to take time to savor moments of joy – and it feels super good. 😀

What moments of joy will I find along the way today?

The night sky begins to lighten, hinting at a gray dawn to come. There’s an entire day potentially filled with joy ahead of me. Sounds lovely, even if the joy I am filling my day with is the recollection of past joy; joy is one of life’s great delights. It can be so easy to overlook joy, simple joy, great joy, subtle joy, easy joy, hard-won joy, fragile fleeing joy on a difficult day, childlike unexpected joy, joy as a moment or as a state of being; even joy has variety. Loneliness and heartbreak (or even ennui, boredom, or irritation) don’t withstand being immersed in joy. I make my choice joy, when I think to. 🙂

Search all the books that matter most to you, there are still verbs involved. 🙂

Today, I choose joy. It’s a lovely day for it, however gray the sky overhead. 🙂 My results may vary, but I can also choose to begin again, any time. 🙂

Tags be the change, begin again, being and becoming, choose joy, choose wisely, customize your software, decrease negative bias, emotional self sufficiency, I am my own cartographer, linger on the good stuff, meditation, mindfulness, mindfulness for beginners, mindfulness matters, perspective, practicing the practices, ptsd, savor the moment, taking care of me, TBI, The Art of Being, there are verbs involved

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

Staring at a Blank Page

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Unease in the Morning

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Well, Now What?

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Begin Again

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Start With Joy

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