Archives for posts with tag: meditation
« Older Entries
Newer Entries »

Over That

October 1, 2016 //
0

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.

 

 

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Anxiety, autumn, Brain Injury, Free Will, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, solo hiking, The Art of Being, The Big 5

This One’s for a Friend

September 29, 2016 //
3

This morning I woke up thinking about a far away friend going through a bad bit. She spoke of fear,and she spoke of feeling mistreated, and she spoke of love, and when she spoke her narrative reminded me of dark times of my own, in past relationships. She’s well-loved, and has many friends. I know there are days she doubts it. I hear her heartbreak, now, reflected in many inconsequential things. I remember mine.

Attachment is a tangled bit of nastiness. I held on, fearful, for so many years in two very long (bad) relationships, and later, a one nearly as vile as the first, that I had the limited strength and fragile-best-effort wisdom to walk away from before I’d exhausted 3 years. (I pause to acknowledge the progress implied there, without being overly hard on myself about the slow learning curve.) I’m very human, love matters so much – and it’s peculiarly difficult to sort out the professed-love-that-isn’t-love-at-all from Love.

I held on because I was afraid. I was afraid to “lose everything” – without actually defining with clarity what it was I thought I was actually holding onto. I apologized when I was victimized, hurt, injured, mistreated, manipulated, and “managed” through cruelty and the withholding of affection. I turned my anger on myself, believing that I had in some fashion “deserved” this treatment – I mean, hey, hadn’t I… something? Didn’t I do… something? No, it wasn’t ever about me, but it took a really long time to figure that out. I needed help with that, too. It was a grim and lonely journey through a lot of chaos and damage.

Rare is that good friend who will look another in the eye and gently say “please take care of yourself, I’m worried about your safety” and “no, actually, I don’t think you deserved that, and I don’t think it’s a given that because your partner says they love you that this gives them a free pass to be cruel, demanding, irrational, violent, mean, confrontational, deceitful, hateful, exploitative…” (or any of the many dozens of other ways human primates can be cruel to one another). Sometimes it’s hard to find the words. Other times we wonder “is it our place”? (It is.) Perhaps we’re not sure about the circumstances, so choose to “stay out of it” rather than be mistaken. Maybe we don’t think it’s “that bad”, or it mirrors our own circumstances and forces us to look to closely into the mirror. It matters that we give voice to our concerns, though; our hurting friends, frightened friends, isolated friends, hell – all our friends need our voices in their moment of darkness, need to know we care, and that they matter – to someone.

You matter. I hope you are reading this over your coffee, or your tea, and that you take just one moment to set aside the hurting and the fear, and accept this one thing, right now; this too will pass. It’s okay to let go of the attachment, and look your worst care scenario right in the face; your thoughts have no substance that you don’t give them. They are free for the taking, to enjoy when they delight us, to educate us about our suffering when they are less delightful. Let your fears unfold their educational narrative in your thoughts, and breathe. Trust your good heart. Take care of you – because you matter. If things are okay right now, take time to just sink into that moment, and enjoy being okay right now. Breathe. Relax. Sip your coffee (tea?). Take a moment for you. This moment. Now. The moment you’ve got – the only moment you’ve really got. Be present for it. (The way out is through.) 🙂

Thank you being a friend. Thank you for listening when I’ve needed to talk. Thank you for sharing your own heartfelt words in a moment of fear and pain, and connecting across miles and years through our common experience as human beings. Emotion and reason. It’s not either or, and can’t be. 😉 I hear you. Other friends hear you. You are heard. You are loved. ❤

One new day, approximately infinite possibilities.

One new day, approximately infinite possibilities.

Today is a good day to begin again. Today is a good day for a journey – a solo hike through life, if you will. There is no map. You’ll be your own cartographer. There will be obstacles, challenges, and life’s curriculum is a stern teacher on some icy mornings of the heart. You’ll probably make some bad choices along the way, or get caught out in emotional inclement weather without an umbrella. There may feel like there are more bad times than good – even when data, real data, would suggest it could be otherwise. It’s a worthy journey, nonetheless, and well… frankly… you have the choice to take it willfully or to drift, but you must make the journey to the conclusion that it offers, or choose another – but the journey is itself is not optional. (You do get to choose your gear.) Ready? It’s time to walk on, Friend. ❤

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories Anxiety, Free Will, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, solo hiking, The Art of Being, The Big 5, women

Other Days, Other Choices

September 28, 2016 //
0

I woke up feeling quite a bit better, but woke to the alarm. Infernal beeping. I dragged myself up on one elbow to find the alarm, and managed to shut it off, while also sweeping everything on my nightstand onto the floor. I sigh out loud, “Okay Wednesday,” I say softly into the darkness, “have it your way.” Turning on the light isn’t a complicated task, but I’m wobbly, unsteady, and a little dizzy. I didn’t sleep well for that last bit, and woke at an uncomfortably groggy point in my sleep cycle. I head for the shower, careening off the walls as I go, clumsy, uncoordinated…and unconcerned about it. I forget I have the option to slow down.

A shower, hot coffee, and yoga later and I feel alert, and definitely improved over yesterday. The interrupted restless sleep is taking its toll, though, and I frown wondering what I can do to get more better rest; I’m really starting to feel sleep deprived. I smile to myself; being aware of it is a big improvement.

Another coffee. Meditation. I considered not writing. This is all very practical uninteresting stuff, here, without much substance – a life being lived. Just one life. Just one set of choices. Very little drama. It doesn’t lend itself well to profundity or insight to feel so content, perhaps… I think I’d give up writing before I would give up contentment, and feel no resentment over the exchange at all. 🙂

Still…practices are what they are because they are ongoing. This is one such; a few minutes taken for/with myself, facing the woman in the mirror with frankness, and authenticity. Open to change. Checking out life’s menu for new options. Making my way in the world. So, I write a few words…

My thoughts are elsewhere this morning. My new phone will likely arrive today – that’s equal parts exciting and frightening, with a touch of inconvenient, just having to set it all up all over yet again. “Begin again” I say to myself, and I smile. It isn’t always an easy thing. It is, however, a thing.

Time to face the day…

IMAG8161

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories autumn, Brain Injury, health, Healthy Living, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Sleepless Nights

Beyond the Obvious

September 24, 2016 //
0

Morning came early today. 4:00 am on a Saturday seems earlier than necessary. I started the day with meditation, then yoga, quietly piecing together my self-care from the tattered remains of routines torn down by more spontaneous others. My traveling partner sleeps in his bedroom. His visiting son occupies another. I am awake, quietly, with my coffee, my laptop balanced in my lap, on a cushion.

The evening ended oddly. A wrong note in a beautiful symphony. A terse “you’re just wrong” interrupting an explanation, and an abrupt good-night hug and the evening was over. Human primates, still primates. In the moment, it felt dismissive and rude to be treated with disrespect, however inconsequential the detail. This morning I’m inclined to let it go; my traveling partner is as human as anyone. It was a moment, and the moment has passed. That it lingers in my recollection is more a matter of needing to take care to ensure that my hurt feelings don’t fester, and that I take time to acknowledge them, myself, and treat myself with respect and kindness. Emotional self-sufficiency for the win. 🙂

As with any choice, there are verbs involved.

As with any choice, there are verbs involved.

The kindest people are capable of being unkind. The most peaceful people have the potential to be provoked into a moment of violence. The loftiest of goals is only a daydream, without actions. Our most heartfelt beliefs have no substance that we don’t give them ourselves; reality does not care what we believe. The people who profess their love for us are also most likely to hurt us, most often and most deeply. We are most easily hurt by those who matter most to us. I sip my coffee and consider these assumptions. They are part of who I am. I accept them, generally, as fact. Are they? Experience suggests they are, and I’ve learned hard lessons that tend to reinforce these ideas as true in my own life. Still… I don’t know that these are factual statements, only that they are statements that tend to express some experience I have had, myself, as clearly as I am able to express it.

Learning to comfortably accept that we are each having our own experience has also been a journey to understanding that our ability to empathize, to understand, to “relate” to each other builds on a peculiar thing; the tendency to assume shared qualities of mind, of thinking, of values, and of experience in those with whom we share life, which is in no way actually assured. We really are each having our own experience. There is no reason to assume you know what I know, that you have lived what I have lived. We are tempted into it by the vast quantity of shared and common experiences we do have… but there is so much more to each of who we are than what we tend to assume about each other, or perhaps even ourselves. There’s a limited amount of “we”, really, and it isn’t always quite where I think it is, myself. Oddly, we are also so much more similar than we tend to think of ourselves… it’s… complicated.

In context, the larger context of a lifetime, a moment of impatience or rudeness is minutiae, hardly worth a second thought. 🙂

It's hard to unsay the words.

It’s hard to unsay the words.

The sky is just beginning to lighten. Occasionally I hear stirring in another room. A cough. A shuffle. A bump. Living creatures, living. Outside, too, life; ducks on the marsh call back and forth, disturbed by passing runners, and songbirds are commencing their morning announcements. Life. I sip my coffee and wonder what the day holds.

This here, this now, this is enough.

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories autumn, Free Will, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Relationships, The Art of Being, The Big 5, Words

For My Next Trick

September 22, 2016 //
0

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. 🙂

Tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Categories autumn, Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, The Art of Being
« Older Entries
Newer Entries »