Archives for posts with tag: mental-health
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Choose Your Ride, Pay For Your Ticket

March 3, 2025 //
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Nothing in life is free. Seriously. You want the thing? You pay the price. You want to embark on that adventure? It comes at a cost. You’re going to take that chance, jump at that opportunity, walk down that path over there? You’ll pay for it, one way or another. This isn’t a threat, nor is it a warning, I’m just saying there’s a price to be paid for our choices, and it isn’t always in cash, or stated clearly up front.

Last Wednesday, the Anxious Adventurer and I finished off the storage move. (Yay!) There was a feeling of accomplishment, but it was also a lot of work. Friday, I took the day off work and spent about 7 hours walking on beaches, with breaks in between to write a few words, or go from “here” to “there” – about 11 total miles of walking, based on my tracker. Saturday began with a 3 mile walk on a favorite trail, and ended with housekeeping, chores, and gardening. Sunday was more of the same. Today? Yeah, today “the bill came due” and I’m paying for all of it; I feel like I’ve been in a serious fight (and lost). My muscles ache from the least of efforts. It was difficult just getting out of bed and getting dressed this morning. My back, legs, shoulders, and neck all ache ferociously, and I’m stiff. So stiff. Today I’m walking with a cane just getting from the car to my desk to the coffee in the office kitchenette, and I’m “wearing my years”. I’m not complaining, just saying this is where I am, and why. I take a moment to consider the sensations of my body. This fragile vessel needs care, and while that’s true every day, right now I’m really feeling it. Funny thing is, most of these things I did so much of were themselves forms of self-care. Hilarious (for some forms of humor). (I guess you had to be there. lol)

I breathe, exhale, and “relax” – best I can, hurting the way I do right now. It’ll pass. I remind myself that there’s always a price to be paid for the things we do, or want, or achieve, even if only the time consumed of our limited mortal years. Was the price too high? No, not at all, and I’m paying it without objection, resentment, or resistence. It is what it is. (Which is, mostly, painful at present.) The moment will pass. The pain will ease. I’ll go on to be stronger for the effort I’ve made, and I’m pleased with the outcome (particularly in the garden). Hell, there’s more yet to do. Life doesn’t pause for a breather just because a task has been completed. There’s always that next step. Another project. Another moment.

…Life being lived; there are verbs involved…

Garden books & seed packets; the plan is not the experience.

I sip my coffee (g’damn I am so sore this morning, even sipping coffee manages to hurt), pleased that it is so good today. I smile thinking about the work in the garden, progress made toward Spring, and seeds yet to be planted. The metaphor of a garden is one of my personal favorites, and I consider what I am planting – in the garden, and in life – and how best to tend my garden for a bountiful harvest. There’s work involved, and it helps to plan, and to proceed with intention, but the path ahead isn’t predetermined, and the way is not always clear. I sigh contentedly in spite of my physical discomfort. I’m fortunate, and I sit with my gratitude for a moment. We become what we practice, for sure, and our choices and actions make a difference in the life we lead – but where our journey begins, and what obstacles befall us along the way, matters too – and we have less control over that. I reflect awhile on my good fortune in life, generally. I’m not saying it’s been “an easy life”, and I’ve surely had what sometimes seems like more than my “fair share” of trauma over the years, but… considering things from the perspective of this one human experience of a lifetime of growth and change and circumstance? I’m fortunate, indeed. (It’s rarely helpful to become mired in pain, or to wallow in the chaos and damage.) I’ve much to be grateful for…

I sip my coffee, think my thoughts, and prepare to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, joy, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Practices, Spring, The Art of Being, turning 60, weight loss secrets, winter

Start Where You Are

February 25, 2025 //
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A friend asked me a question, and asked for “some steps, you know, some basic practices” because they were “freaking out with all this chaos and scary shit going on” (I know, me too, right?). I said I’d do my best. I hope it helps. ❤

Where does this path lead?

Sometimes it’s a difficult journey, this “life” thing, eh? It doesn’t have to be has difficult as it sometimes seems. It is an unfortunate truth that we often complicate our situation needlessly, sometimes through poor decision-making, sometimes through lack of clarity in our thinking, sometimes just because we have feelings and don’t reliably deal with those skillfully. But, the good news is that we do actually have choices, and tools at our disposal (like critical thinking, perspective, and non-attachment). We can take things a step at a time…

  1. Start where you are. Any journey is more difficult if you are trying to begin from somewhere other than where you actually stand. Honest self-reflection, acceptance, and making a point to test your assumptions and reality check your expectations is really useful.
  2. Breathe, exhale, relax. Maybe you don’t have “a meditation practice”. Maybe you don’t need one? It’s reliably helpful to “take a minute” to calm yourself when you are stressed out. Change your perspective or your environment, however briefly, and break out of your rumination or your stress spiral. Let small shit stay small. Let things go that you’re getting hung up on, if only for a little while. Take a break. Walk away from it.
  3. Take care of your “fragile vessel”. Such a simple thing – self-care really matters, particularly when life feels hardest. Are you getting enough rest? Are you eating healthy meals? Drinking enough water? How about a shower and some clean clothes? Have you taken prescription medications that may affect your feeling of wellness (or failed to take them)? Are you in pain – and are you doing something to ease that, if you can?
  4. No media, no doomscrolling. This one is a small thing, but a big deal; if you’re already stressed to the breaking point, feeling overwhelmed, or struggling to manage the details in your life, I promise you that reading the news, or doomscrolling endlessly through various feeds on your device(s) is not helpful. Put it down. Silence your notifications. Put the device on Do Not Disturb. Walk away from the tether that ties you to constant demands for your attention. Go outside. Take a walk. Read a book. Sit down over a cup of tea or coffee with an actual human being out in the world and have a conversation. (See point 2.)
  5. Put things into perspective. This one is both difficult and easy. Easy to say, sometimes more difficult to put into practice, just being real with you. Your perspective on a difficult moment may be filtered through the lens of the stress you feel, or prior experiences that weren’t really quite the same. You may be struggling with your chaos and damage, and past traumas may be coloring your understanding. Take a step back. (Don’t take dumb shit personally.) Consider the moment from more than one angle. This one moment, right here, is unique and unrepeatable – and it will pass (good or bad). Let it.
  6. Practice non-attachment. This is a practice that sometimes has some poignance (at least for me); let it go. Just that. Whatever it is, don’t cling to it. Let it go. If you lost the thing you cling to so tightly (whether it is an object, relationship, or sense of identity), things might change, sure, but – wouldn’t you (most likely) be okay if you allow yourself to be? We sometimes cling so tightly to something that isn’t even quite real. Some of what hurts us most we’ve completely made up – it’s safe to let that shit go.
  7. Practice gratitude. I’m not even kidding. I’m also not suggesting that being grateful for the struggle itself, or the pain you’re in, or this complicated moment is the goal. Not at all. I’m suggesting that being grateful for other things, the small wins, the pleasant moments, the little joys, the handful of things that are reliably part of your individual good fortune has real value. It’s difficult for anger, anxiety, or sorrow to compete for one’s attention with heartfelt gratitude. Authenticity matters, and gratitude can’t be “forced”, but there are likely to be quite a few little things for which you are truly grateful. Make room for those. Reflect on, and cherish those. It may give you a firm foundation to stand on before you…
  8. Take the next step. Life is a journey. Most of our path we walk alone. Sometimes we’re fortunate enough to share the journey, but it is still our journey. We’re each having our own experience. Walk on. Sure, have an eye on where you think you’d like to get to, but understand an important detail; the journey is the destination. Do your best to be the person you’d most like to be, moment to moment. Make those choices – the ones that allow you to walk your path, authentically.
  9. Be here, now. Spend less time on regret (the past is behind you) and worry (the future has not yet happened and may not be whatever you fear it might). Be present, in this moment. Now. This takes us back to point 1, you may have noticed… “start where you are”.
As with so many journeys, it isn’t always clear where the path leads.

Breathe. Exhale. Relax. You can begin again. Each time you stumble, pick yourself up, and begin again. Each time you fail, learn from that experience. You’ve got this. It’s your path, your journey, no one can handle this one better than you can.

Staying on the path is a choice, and there are verbs involved.
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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Despair, forgiveness, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, grief, Healthy Living, loneliness, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, The Art of Being, War and News of War, Words

Now This, Then That

February 21, 2025 //
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It’s a Friday. The headlines in my news feed are pretty horrible; more human cruelty, more corruption and greed, more vain human stupidity. I sigh and move on; I don’t have time for that bullshit. I have things to get done, a life to live, and an opportunity to do better, myself, than all of that nonsense. I decide to focus on what I can do as an individual to make life better for my family and my colleagues, and stay present here, now, and attentive to what I can do something about, personally. It feels more productive, and emotionally healthier.

…I have a list of things to do…

First things first, I take care of myself. Coffee. Meditation. A moment for reflection. Then thoughtful time spent on the household budget for the new pay period. I smile to myself, thinking of my Traveling Partner and how helpful he was when we got together, sharing his (much better) approach to such things. I’ve come a long way since then. During the time I lived alone, although we were still together, he wisely “kicked off the training wheels” and insisted I handle my own affairs financially, feeling that I was ready for that (and wanting to feel certain I could take care of myself in this way, come what may). Having a brain injury had long presented significant challenges for me in that area; managing money was hard for as long as I could remember, when I met my Traveling Partner. Making and following a budget was hard. Understanding when and how to flex on a plan was complicated. I didn’t make much money and it always seemed like I needed to stretch it further than it could go. I’d been disadvantaged by relationships with individuals willing to exploit my inexperience or my brain damage for their own benefit. I didn’t understand my worth. I am grateful to my beloved Traveling Partner whenever I sit down on a payday Friday to look over the numbers, make a plan, and prepare for another cycle of bills, expenses, and living life. Paydays used to be terrifying and filled with anxiety – now they’re just days that begin with a spreadsheet, some thoughtful choices, and some notes to share with my partner, and the chance to get his thoughts on the plan and make changes based on those. He has good ideas and we’re a team. I smile, feeling fortunate and loved.

I look over the things I need to get done over the next couple of weeks, and over the coming weekend. Pick up new glasses. Get the oil changed in my car. Grocery shop. Finish the storage move. Prepare the garden for the coming of Spring. I sigh to myself; I failed to properly winterize the garden last autumn, busy with other things that seemed a higher priority at the time. I’ll pay for that now. The Spring prep tasks will be a bit more complicated, a bit more laborious, a bit more tedious. Choices. I laugh softly to myself and sip my coffee. We make our choices and pay the price when we choose poorly. That’s just real.

…I’m excited about having new glasses, my prescription has changed and it’ll be good to see clearly again…

I sip my coffee and do a quick “personal inventory”. My tinnitus is loud in my ears this morning, but I’m not in much pain. I’m feeling the chill of morning, but I’m not especially uncomfortable. I feel relaxed and ready for the day. My chronic headache is only a 2 on a 1-10 scale, which is almost pleasant, all things considered. It’s a good start to the day. I feel rested and calm. It was probably a good choice to avoid the news feed – nothing good comes of added unnecessary stress over terrible shit I can’t change to my sense of self first thing in the morning. Being “present”, and having a sense of “where I’m at” at the start of the day is a useful practice, for me. I’m less likely to unexpectedly find myself mired in chaos and damage, or having some problematic tantrum over bullshit. I can take better care of myself when I know what I need. (That probably all seems pretty obvious…)

Daybreak comes, then dawn, and I see the suggestion of a sunrise behind dense gray clouds. A new day. Looks like a good one, so long as I don’t think about things to do with governments, politicians, billionaires, corporate greed, exploitation of vulnerable populations, or climate change. I sigh to myself and get ready to begin again.

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Categories Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Love, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being, The Big 5, winter

Pain & Winter Weather

February 19, 2025 //
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I’m sipping my coffee on a rainy winter morning, feeling cross and irritated and in considerable pain. It’s the pain making me so cranky, but it’s “only” my osteoarthritis (and my perpetual headache), and there’s not much to do about it, really. I live with this. A lot of people live with pain, that’s a real thing. I sigh to myself, as I pull my posture more upright. It helps a tiny bit, though barely noticeable in the moment. The moments add up. I’m grateful to have gotten a good night’s sleep. I’m grateful to have what limited Rx pain relief available to me that I do (and am willing to use).

My reflection stares back at me from the window; it’s not yet daybreak, and I see a middle-aged woman with slightly tousled carelessly-kept long hair, glasses, wrapped in a warm (if a bit frumpy) sweater, looking back at me. She looks pleasant and approachable, relaxed, with a soft smile hinting at a life well-lived, and maybe some interesting stories to tell. She looks just a bit… amused. I don’t see the pain, just the smile, which reaches her eyes. At the corners of her eyes and her smile, laugh lines, no frown lines. She looks… capable. She looks ready for the day and unbothered. I find myself liking what I see reflected there in the window. I sigh again and think “you’ll do”, and take another sip of my coffee. I’m not at all sure how I got “here” – it’s been a difficult journey in spots, and I’ve often wandered off my path – but I’m okay with where I am, and that feels like a win.

I sip my coffee thinking about friends. Thinking about love. Thinking about errands I need to run. I think about hearth and home and all the things that add up to this life I live. It’s not perfect; there’s the pain, obviously. That’s its own difficult experience. I try not to take it personally. Things could be so much worse. Instead of living with this pain, I could have rejected having the surgery to repair my shattered spine, and taken a chance on things “just healing up” more or less, and most likely ended up in a wheel-chair, unable to walk at all. It can be hard to trust the opinion of an expert; we live in cynical times. I’m glad I did – I walk every day, and often see the sunrise from some favorite trail. The pain seems like a price worth paying for that privilege, most of the time. My irritation slips away. I chose this with my eyes open. I may not have understood the full measure of the price I’d be paying when I lay there sedated in the ICU so many years ago, but I knew there’d be a price. TANSTAAFL.

One cold winter night 40 years ago, I ran from a knife wielding man to save my own life. I took the only route available to me, that I could see in the moment, which led me to dangling from a balcony rail, dangerously high above a beautiful tiled patio, slick with ice. That man was my then-husband, who rushed to the balcony to plead with me not to let go. I looked back at him in a moment of unexpected clarity and calm, aware of my agency in a new way. The choice was mine. “I have to,” I said, and I did. The explosion of light in my head and the sudden pain that shot through me and my breath knocked out of my body overcame me only for seconds before adrenaline and terror drove me to my feet to seek help. It was a moment of profound change. One choice. One moment.

I sit with my thoughts a while. “I had no other choice” is reliably a lie. We have choices (many) – I know I’ve made a lot of them. Probably the worst choice(s) I’ve ever made? Telling myself I’ve no other choice, and and following the path that took me down. The menu in The Strange Diner is immense. We choose, on our own, to keep it folded, and to narrow our options willfully. Refusing to consider all the options is also a choice.

We’re born “a blank page”, and although we have little to say about our introduction to life, we have so many choices as we grow, and more once we are adult and free to do as we will. What will you do with it? The menu in The Strange Diner is impressively vast. What will you choose? Will you make your world (and your life) a better place in which to thrive? Will you walk a path that leads you somewhere beautiful? Will you take the steps that carry you to becoming the person you most want to be? Who is that? What will your legacy be? You have choices. Choose wisely. Pay the price. Don’t take the pain personally.

It’s time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, The Art of Being, winter

Necessary Self-Care Sometimes Feels Like a Luxury

February 18, 2025 //
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Last week’s snowstorm feels like a long time ago, not the short 4 days that it was. The long weekend I was so fortunate to enjoy stretched time and gave me an opportunity to really rest, to get a few things done, to enjoy my Traveling Partner (and my life) – and I took full advantage of it. I stayed up later. I slept in a couple times. I even took an afternoon to dive into a long-waiting personal project to do with sorting and filing and tidying up my many digital images of my art work. That was incredibly satisfying. I cooked a couple of really good meals. I enjoyed breakfast or brunch with my beloved each morning. Time well-spent. It wasn’t “fancy” or costly or exotic, it was just… mine. I needed that.

This morning I woke to my artificial sunrise and prepared to head to the office. I didn’t notice until I was almost half way into my commute that I had somehow set my wake up time to… 04:00. Good grief, really?? I definitely did not need to be up that early. No traffic, though… pleasant, quiet drive.

Now I’m at my desk, drinking my coffee, trying to stretch enough to feel… different than I do. I don’t know what I’m going for, maybe, but I think “comfortable” would be good. I feel unexpectedly sleepy, in spite of the coffee (because of it?). I didn’t sleep particularly well last night. I am paying for that, and the early wake up, in physical discomfort and restless sleepiness. My back aches with my osteo-arthritis. My neck aches from degenerative disk disease. My headache is with me this morning, too. My shoulders feel tight in spite of adjusting the height of this adjustable desk several times. The delicious relaxation of the weekend gives way to the subtle tension of the work week. I stay away from the news; it’s all pretty bad, and none of it is “new information”. It’s all stories about shitty people doing terrible things to make a name or profit for themselves, in some cases out of nothing more than pettiness and spite, other people standing around wringing their hands and not doing much of anything helpful about any of it. The usual. Human suffering. Human greed. Human cruelty. No superheroes.

…And I’m fairly fucking over hearing about Elon-fucking-Musk. I mean, seriously? That fucking guy. How he’s managed to con so many otherwise rational-seeming people is just beyond me. Why keep giving him more money for products he will not ever make? Can we not also let him tear down our fucking government? Are his substantial and obvious conflicts of interest not enough to make that clearly a terrible idea?! Fucking hell. Just how fucking stupid and gullible are we?

I pause my writing to hunt for a tissue in the quiet empty office. Noticing how good it feels to actually move around, I wander a bit, and take a walk around the building, outside, stretching, and taking deep breaths as I walk. I bring my attention back to “now” – where I am. This moment, here. Daybreak has come, dawn is here, the sunrise is imminent. It is a new day, filled with new opportunities. I amuse myself with observations of how good self-care sometimes feels. Funny that it can feel so hard to make time for those practices…

I sigh to myself and return to my desk, along with my aches and pains. Typical shit. Most of us deal with some measure of pain, some of us deal with more. It’s part of the human condition, and I try not to take it personally, and also do something about it and get on with my day. I smile fondly when my thoughts return to my Traveling Partner. I hope he gets the rest he needs. (He’s also been sleeping poorly.) I look at my calendar, check over my email, plan my workload for the day… It’s time to begin again.

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Categories 2024 Election, Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, pain, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, The Art of Being, winter, Words
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