Archives for posts with tag: menopause

I’d like to have a caution sign for the inside of my bedroom door. One of the safety yellow ones seen at the roadside for any number of upcoming hazards, and I want it to have one of those crazy squiggly road symbols for dangerous curves, and a falling rock symbol, and also a symbol for potholes. At the top, I’d expect it to say ‘Caution’, as most of them do, and perhaps at the bottom ‘Life Ahead’. Frankly, I could probably use a quick reminder every day before I head out into the world and get hung up on some ‘obstacle’ that isn’t actually an obstacle at all, but more of a lesson. 🙂

Short night last night, and a good morning anyway. Stayed up a bit past my ‘bell-curve bedtime’ watching a movie with my partners. Totally worth it. Lost a little more sleep to the happy sounds of life and Love, before my awareness distilled to a few moments of self, then dissipated to dreaming. Also, totally worth it.

This morning I am still turning over the Conundrum of Hair. I put it in capital letters to highlight the experience that this relatively simple question has come to serve as an interesting life lesson about decision-making and taking care of me. I mean, seriously? I’m talking about whether or not to get a hair cut – not exactly life-changing stuff, as changes go. I keep turning it over in my mind, trying to figure out not only what I want (for an outcome) but also learn more about my decision-making challenges in general.

I grew up hearing ‘Do something, even if it isn’t right!’ as an oft-repeated instructional slogan intended, I think, to foster a high level of productivity, initiative, motivation, and, oddly, effective decision-making (defined only as ‘making a quick decision and acting on it).  I learned it, and became an adult quite capable of making very bad decisions very quickly, and firmly, and taking prompt action on them – but I did not also learn to make the best possible decisions, only quick ones. lol. Life needs a bit of both, I’ve learned.  Often the decisions I’ve made quite slowly, over time, with a lot of consideration, and some false starts and mind-changing, plan-changing, or self-changing have been more worthwhile. I was taught a lot of disrespect for ‘dithering’, ‘vacillating’, and ‘being indecisive’. Funny how complicated these things have made deciding whether or not to cut my hair! Watching the process unfold both as an observer and as a participant is interesting, itself, and I’m finding value in taking a step back and asking myself some new questions.

I asked myself why am I considering getting my hair cut short right now? Why is the idea of getting my hair cut short – very short – scary? (I’ve had very long hair all my adult life) What does having all this long hair mean to me? What does the hair itself represent in my experience? Does the experience of having long hair have any intrinsic value? What about the experience of having long hair do I value? Am I willing to give that up to experience having short hair? Do I actually want to do this? Is there any other reason to cut my hair short besides ‘because I want this’? I’ve been turning these questions over in my mind a lot. “Long hair is sexy.” Yep, sure is – but so is short hair, because ‘sexy’ isn’t a hair style.  “I like the feel of my lover’s hands in my hair.” Mmm, yes, yes I do.  Does sensuality end with a hair cut?  That’s clearly not the case, since tons of men have short hair and don’t seem to lack for sensuality. “I won’t look like me.” Um…I am not a hair style. lol. “You can’t tell me what to do!” Somewhere inside I still feel the helpless anger and resentment of being controlled, in the memory of having to get a short hair cut because it was too much work to keep long hair neat when I was a child – it’s way past time to let that baggage go. lol.  I have a memory of crying to my father about a short hair cut I didn’t like…I must have been quite young…I remember mostly the feeling of hot tears spilling down and wailing “Daddy, I’m so ugly! I won’t be sexy – I look like a boy!!” and my father’s amused reply “Baby, there’s nothing about you that looks like a boy.” Well, at 49 and with the curves I’ve got, there’s sure no way to mistake me for a boy! lol “My partners like my long hair.” Ouch, that’s more difficult than I want it to be…sure, some people really like long hair, find it sexy, enjoy seeing it, touching it, and it may be part of how they see someone they love…but it’s just hair; it is not identity.  One of my partners is presently letting his hair grow longer after years of wearing it short. It’s sexy both ways – because he’s sexy; it’s not the hair. He looks different than he did with the shorter style; he is still himself. AND, although when he considered growing out his hair, he did mention it, and discuss it, and ask me what I thought, he did not ask for my permission, or make it about my needs or desires when he made a choice to change-up his look. Oh, ok, so that wasn’t really that difficult, after all. LOL 😀

Every internal objection, each moment of resistance, all the arguments from any angle are so easily knocked down when I am calm, centered, and willing to be compassionate with myself about old hurts, baggage, and internal weirdness.  So, now it comes down to what it really comes down to – is this what I want? Does it meet my needs over time? I still have not decided…and there’s no need to rush.  Now it is just a hair cut.  😀

It was bound to happen, right? Hormones. [insert utterly offensive string of favorite swear words here] Yay! [detect sarcasm] I get to practice mindfulness – with hormones! 😦  So far, so… good? Not good, exactly, but not exactly bad, either. I’m less wrapped in misery, but I feel some of this more, or… something.  I ache. I feel irritable – which comes and goes erratically and does not seem at all correlated to events in my experience or the household emotional environment, and that’s pretty typical of my PMS experiences in the past.  Voices distract and annoy me – and then I feel irritated with myself because these are voices of people I love. [more swearing fits nicely here] Did I mention that I ache? I’m also sentimental and emotional about weird things… like…I drove past a huge construction site – a factory being built – and started weeping because I really wanted to check it out in person, on foot, really see it…and was moved to tears to feel pretty sure I wouldn’t be allowed to do that if I walked over there. lol. I just don’t understand how to share that in a way that gives you a real window into my visceral experience, and it feels so alienating to know that I lack that ability. Freakin’ hormones…the worst bit is the lies that hormones trick my brain into reading into my experience; I have generally made very different assumptions about people, their motives, and intentions, when I’m PMS-y, and it sucks to be chronically concerned that I’m ‘not being rational’.

The mindfulness practices, though, put me in a very ‘it is what it is’ sort of place.   It feels easier to understand that ‘it may not be what it seems’ when I take a moment to relax, breathe, and treat myself compassionately.  It’s still pretty suck-y to feel ‘off’; fatigued, vaguely unwell, sort of ‘disturbed’ and generally aggravated – but they are just feelings and like any other feelings, they are transitory. I’ve been making different choices today with the mindfulness doing its thing; choosing to enjoy an activity that takes me away from home for a little while, then wrapping up some tasks on my To Do list that both need doing, and occupy my attention with productive things that result in a sense of satisfaction and achievement. I find myself really relaxed in spite of the hormones and feeling like the day is not only not ‘wasted’ with distress and internal torment, but quite enjoyable so far. It’s nice.

How well can I treat myself today? If pampering myself and meeting some personal needs results in me feeling balanced and nurtured and serene, will my partners also feel they are ‘being treated well’?  That doesn’t sound like it would be a definite outcome, when I see it in text, so I will take some time to consider whether there is a ‘missing link’ that I also need to understand more clearly. It’s a quiet Sunday. It’ll be Shepard’s Pie for dinner tonight, maybe with some biscuits, or perhaps maple-walnut bars for dessert, and most of the tasks I committed to for the weekend are already behind me. It’s a lovely day for a walk, some  yoga, a leisurely bath, some reading…a nice way to wrap up a weekend.

This all feels very much like progress and improvement. 😀

I’m building a regular practice these days whereby the last thing I do each night is meditate. Initially, I contemplate my day compassionately, observing it without analyzing it. I note if/whether there is some event, outcome, or theme that seemed most challenging, or most relevant to my current needs and commit to focusing on a single practice, behavior, or cognitive function the next day,  that may be an improvement on what I am doing now.  Then I let all that go – and just focus on my breathing.  I’ve been sleeping more deeply and restfully since I started doing that… I don’t know that those experiences are correlated.

Today I am focusing on letting small things go.  The most challenging moment I had yesterday was when an associate [who matters to me] interrupted me to say something to me in an incredibly insulting and dismissive tone, rich with condescension and derision, and full of assumptions about my level of knowledge. I was… insulted, hurt, briefly even angry. I struggled with it for a few moments at the time, but the social environment didn’t really permit actually addressing it with my associate directly in a comfortable way [that I know yet].  It still lingered in my memory pretty vividly that evening when I finished my day, so – focusing on letting small things go, today. 🙂 Maybe you don’t agree that being insulted that way is a ‘small thing’? Was I, though?  My associate’s assumptions about me, and their own world view, was the foundation of their reaction – does that really have anything to do with me, other than alerting me that they don’t know me as well as I thought they did – or as well, perhaps, as they think they do? That seems a very different thing than ‘being insulted’ – and I’d deal with it differently.  In the moment, my understanding of events was the result of my emotional reaction to words that were the result of a potentially significant misunderstanding.  I’m glad circumstances gave me time to think it over.

I spent the walk to work happily thinking art thoughts. I contemplated my journey as an artist so far, and considered what I would like to accomplish artistically this year. I observed the bare branches of deciduous trees along the walk, and their contrast against the rainy gray sky. I took note of russet leaves that litter the sidewalk on the way, their many shapes, and shades. I smiled at the lichens on the tree branches, and the moss in the cracks of the sidewalk. Many of the trees are just beginning to bud, or unfurl delicate new leaves. Spring is coming. I enjoyed a feeling of just being, as I walked, and becoming – with the spring – as each day unfolds. I’m eager to get to work in watercolor, again. It’s been a very long time.

Knowing we are each having our own experience (and I’m assuming you do know that, possibly accept and/or understand it, or are willing to participate in this moment with me by temporarily suspending your skepticism on this point…) it still hasn’t been easy to describe or even understand why some things hurt, however briefly, when upon rational examination they seem so reasonable. Take ‘feedback’ for example. (I’ll define that as a moment of verbal information offered from one individual to another regarding a specific shared experience or communication that the offered information addresses directly, either by way of a desired correction in verbiage, demeanor, or behavior, or to offer praise in support of specific verbiage, demeanor, or behavior. Sound reasonable? I’m hoping that definition excludes humor, and meanness… ) I sometimes take feedback very badly – and sometimes quite appreciatively and graciously (I know, I’ve been there. lol).  It’s got to be hard on people who care about me to find themselves facing tears over sometime really simple and well-intended. I’m very sure I’m right about that, because they also often seem very relieved and appreciative when it goes well.  I think I figured out something about the feedback thing I didn’t understand before… but, I am not sure I can easily describe what I think I understand.

How about a metaphor? If I am holding hands with my lover, and gently stroking the delicate skin of the inside of their wrist with my thumb, softly, sensuously, over and over… eventually, even though I love them, and even though initially it probably felt lovely, it becomes irritating (try it, don’t take my word for it). Likewise, if I am wounded or have an injury, touches, however gentle, to that source of pain will definitely hurt – even if the intention is not hurtful, and the touch itself, in some other place, would be welcome.  So… perhaps, some specific topics of feedback, or specific requests, delivered often enough over a lifetime eventually sting a bit, even if they are ‘right on the mark’ and quite properly needful, and even ‘welcomed’ once the sting is gone? Perhaps some feedback lands on old wounds that are not properly healed? Yep… I think that gets my point… but I don’t know what to properly do with this thought. (Other than ‘share it with the world via blog post’. lol) How do I hear and make use of good feedback without taking it personally or allowing it to pull at old wounds? I know I can’t reasonably expect my loved ones and friends to read my mind, or know what bits of long-standing pain and delicacy are lurking in my great unknown.  One more thing to think about.

I’m in a good place today. It’s a nice day at home, doing some housework, doing some homework, and hoping that each opportunity to share an experience with my partners is the sort that builds a memory worth hanging onto for a lifetime. 🙂

Woke in a bad place, after a decent night’s sleep, that had followed another demonstration of my lack of social skill and saying it sucked doesn’t say enough. I am too fragile and volatile this morning to write fairly, meaningfully, and in a way that has lasting value for me to reflect on, myself. Today I will venture forth anxious, and doing my best to treat myself well… I really need me to be here for me, right now.

Maybe something more later. Be safe, World, and treat the people you meet with compassion and kindness; you can’t know the challenges they face, or suffering they feel, without asking, and listening… And you rarely seem to have the time, or sympathy, afterall you hurt, too.