Archives for posts with tag: mindful living

Soft Gray Morning

March 26, 2017 //

The busy-ness of life finally caught up with me. Cold symptoms that I woke with yesterday morning seem no worse today, nor are they diminished. Fatigue yesterday resulted in hours of napping, and an early bed time. I didn’t sleep particularly deeply, but my sleep was satisfying and uninterrupted. I managed a few minutes more than 8 hours and woke feeling deeply rested, in minimal pain. Skillful self-care today should result in being fully rested and prepared for another week of work. It’s not fancy, but it is sustainable. I sip my coffee contentedly and begin to plan my day.

I take a break from writing (and day planning) to meditate, and sip coffee watching the soft gray dawn slowly becoming a lighter shade of rainy gray morning. I return to my writing unmeasured minutes later, but the lush green of the lawn and the dark green-black of the pine silhouetted against the gray morning sky continue to pull my eye from my writing to the window, and the world beyond this quiet space. I continue to sip my coffee contentedly. This moment, right here, is a very nice one, and I am enjoying it fully, and without criticism, judgement, or negative self-talk.

Just beyond the window, the soft gray dawn.

Yesterday I shared a visit to the nearby Farmer’s Market with a friend. She was having a tough time with her emotions and reached out for support. We took time for coffee, conversation, and strolling the market together. She talked about life, love, frustrations, and yearning for… something. I listened. She asked questions, I offered perspective – mine (it’s all I have). We deepened our friendship and our connection as we walked and talked and shared the morning. It feels good to count her as a friend. She is in a very young place in life (no surprise; she’s not yet 21) and feels adrift in a sea of choices and misinformation. No rule book on this playground. No map on this journey. We are each having our own experience. She is as wholesome as any 21st century girl-next-door can be, and filled with the turmoil and power of reactivity, passion, and emotion. She’s very human. We both are. It was time well-spent, and part of life’s curriculum for me as much as it may be for her; I sometimes struggle to build healthy friendships with other women (the chaos and damage being what it is).

The rest of the day unfolded quietly as a series of naps, and interludes of wakefulness that were relaxed and easy. It was a good day for it. I’m in less pain today, more rested, and don’t feel sicker. I’m satisfied that my choices met my needs. This morning will probably lead a similarly quiet easy day of housekeeping, meditating, and reading, as the gray spring sky spatters the windows with raindrops, and the last cold breezes lingering from winter toss the trees and the wind chime. No doubt later I will see geese and ducks, jays and crows, and my squirrel neighbors visiting the feeders as I sip coffee; it is still too early, now, for any of that besides me sipping coffee. 🙂

For now, I linger over my morning coffee unready to begin any daytime activities that require more of me. It’s that quiet time between waking and doing. The rain begins to fall more heavily, and I find myself regretting that I’ve no firewood, although it is not actually cold enough for that to make sense… It would be pretty. 🙂 I watch the rain fall beyond the window. It’s pretty out there too, just… wet. I laugh out loud in the quiet stillness of my studio; I am fearless about rain. I enjoy the rain. It’s a good morning to hike the level paved trail of the park beyond my window, and I settle on a hike as a lovely start to the day. The welcome-home embrace of a warm shower afterward will feel luxurious and sensuous. The morning begins to take shape in my thoughts.

Today is a good day to hike in the rain, to laugh with a friend, and to take care of this fragile vessel. Today is a good day for self-care, and for living in this moment right here. Today is a good day to practice being the person I most want to be. While I can’t be certain these small things will change the world, they seem a good place to begin again. It’s enough. 🙂

Tags are you going my way?, be here now, be the change, begin again, being and becoming, emotional self sufficiency, experience, good self-care, I am my own cartographer, listening deeply, love, meditation, mindful living, mindfulness, mindfulness for beginners, perspective, practicing the practices, ptsd, relationships, sufficiency, taking care of me, TBI, The Art of Being, The Big 5, the girl next door, the map is not the world, there are verbs involved, walking my own path, what matters most?

Categories Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, solo hiking, Spring, The Art of Being, The Big 5, Uncategorized, women, Words

Sometimes There’s Bitter

March 11, 2017 //

Sometimes life seems to have a bitter aftertaste, a hint of hurt, an edge to it – too much work, not enough rest, too much future, not enough in the way of resources; the challenges pile up faster than the solutions. Still… however fast the challenges pile up, life has its sweetness, too. It’s those sweet moments, those small pleasures, those brief interludes of delight that hold the power to wrap me in smiles even while I wade through knee-deep difficulties in one moment or another.

Sometimes even though the world appears to be on fire, it’s really just the sunrise.

We’re each having our own experience. We’re each walking our own mile, each focused on some short bit of the path ahead of us. We’re each telling our own tale, living inside our own narrative and barely able to fully consider what anyone else is going through. Our logarithmically curated personal internet bubbles suggest to each of us that the world is more of whatever we assume we think it is than it was the day before. Unless we try really really hard to find out what is going on elsewhere, we may never know another world, or any other “truth”. Awkward or angry conversations become more common as we are further separated from each other by the tools that purport to connect us. We end up divided and feeling powerless. It’s a very human experience.

A young neighbor, hearing me beyond the words when I described ~~my irritation with~~ anger about my bird feeder pole being wrecked, offered to try to fix it. He succeeded. It’s oriented quite differently now, and just behind my happy smile, I find myself wondering if the birds noticed that, too, and if that would matter to them…? A stranger on the train, on crutches, had difficulty getting a seat in the morning; I asked the person seated next to me to give up their seat for her. That same evening, I got on the crowded train heading home and she returned the favor, asking the young person sitting next to her to give up their seat for me; I felt relieved that I wouldn’t be awkwardly off-balance and standing precariously gripping my cane for the trip home. I’m just saying; sometimes the world is scary, sometimes the world is human beings taking a moment to be kind to each other.

When the world feels unkind, I practice kindness, myself.

I’ve been making a point to savor life’s sweetness, too, not just lingering over the bitterness of the occasional unpleasant bite. I find it a bit odd, when I think about it, how much more practice it takes to remain aware of what works, what feels good, what supports me well… and how effortless it seems to become mired in sorrow, disappointment, resentment, or anger. Negativity bias is a deep lingering bit of woe that requires pretty continuous practice to mitigate. I meditate. I practice “taking in the good“. I practice being aware and present in the moment, I practice being kind, I practice feeling gratitude – it all matters, it all helps… and I’m still human. 🙂

It’s a journey. The destination is along the way, the way out is through, and the map is not the world. We each walk our own mile.

Today I head out into the world looking for “home”. Later, I’ll enjoy some time with my Traveling Partner, and hear a traveler’s tales. Today, I’ll wrap myself in smiles, and taste life’s sweetness. 🙂

Each sunrise is a moment to begin again, and a moment to pause for now.

Tags be here now, be the change, be who you are, begin again, being and becoming, emotional self sufficiency, gratitude, I am my own cartographer, kindness, mindful living, mindfulness, mindfulness for beginners, mindfulness matters, perspective, practicing the practices, present in the moment, ptsd, sufficiency, taking in the good, taste life's sweetness, TBI, The Art of Being, The Big 5, the map is not the world, there are verbs involved, walking my own path, what matters most?, wrapped in smiles

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

More of the Same Difference

March 7, 2017 //

I forgot to set my alarm last night. Another firm habit breaks unexpectedly, in this case, at least so far, mostly without consequence. I crashed hard last night, pretty early, and fell asleep without reading (and forgot to meditate). I woke thinking I would be able to go back to sleep. I’m glad I checked the time. The morning has that clumsy surreal feel of a day started slightly at an odd angle to the usual sort of morning. I feel groggy, awkward, and lacking coordination and sense of placement in physical space. I’m already on my second coffee, having done nothing much with the morning so far beside shower and dress… well… mostly dress. I remind myself to finish dressing – preferably before I try to leave for the office.

I run my fingers through tangled hair. I sip my coffee. I listen to the low moan of the early commuter train approaching the platform on the other side of the park. I sigh quietly in the stillness, and in the moment that I recognize how loud that sounds, I also hear the rain tapping the window of my studio, and the chime clanging away in the morning breeze. I take a moment to pause and simply be. I take a moment to let myself begin to really wake up. I poke around in my foggy consciousness, checking off a mental list of the morning “getting ready for work” tasks with care. I pull myself upright in my desk chair, committing to caring for my posture with more attention.

An unexpected yawn splits my face wide open, and just as I am about to laugh imagining that, pain stretches from just above and behind my ear, through the base of my skull and to my neck. Ouch. I gotta get back to the doctor on that one; it continues to worsen, and I am experienced at accommodating pain, and too inclined to overlook it. I remind myself that my life – and my quality of life – matters.

This is a very human sort of morning. A good one for taking care of the woman in the mirror. A good one for taking time to appreciate how very human we each (all) are. My consciousness is still too tender to deal with the news, or the world, and I avert my eyes from social media; it is enough, for now, to deal with this moment right here. Perhaps later today I’ll get back to work on changing the world? 😉

Tags be here now, breathe, emotional self sufficiency, good self-care, I am my own cartographer, mindful living, mindfulness, mindfulness for beginners, mindfulness matters, perspective, practicing the practices, ptsd, sufficiency, taking care of me, TBI, The Art of Being, there are verbs involved

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

There is So Much More to Learn

March 3, 2017 //

The week finishes with the work day ahead, and then it’s the weekend. The clock seems to tick at a much faster rate working this particular job… Wasn’t it just Monday morning a couple days ago? There is so much in my subjective human experience of life that is so very relative.

Monday already seems so long ago…

I had a delightful lunch conversation with a departing colleague yesterday. I’ll miss her greatly though we’ve really only just begun to get to know each other; she has a “quality of mind” I find engaging and nurturing even to be around. She has a studious gentle wit I greatly enjoy. Lunch was excellent.

The delights of lunching with a friend were followed by spending the evening with my Traveling Partner. He was waiting for me when I got home, and coming home to his warm smile and his embrace felt so… oh damn. Words fail me. I love coming home to his smile. I don’t know what made last night specifically so special… somehow it was. I’m still smiling. I have a weekend ahead of house-hunting, he has a trip away coming up early next week. Chances are, we won’t see each other again for some days… I’ll probably still be smiling, thinking about last night. lol

Life can be very simple, seemingly effortless, coasting on what is enough, enjoying what feels best, avoiding what is uncomfortable… I like those moments. I cherish them. There is, however, so much more to learn from the hurts, from what is uncomfortable: awkward moments, real talk, hard choices, tough times, books… and each other. I’m enjoying the morning and the week, and it truly seems filled with delights – I’m also aware that life has more to teach me, and that there is more to know. Have I finally grown enough to move beyond crashing on sharp rocky shores of disappointing moments? Will I no longer feel devastated and bereft to face losses? If I catch myself expecting that to be easy, I know I am not paying attention at all. Change is. Tough times occur. There will be losses to face. Disappointments to bear. Moments of struggle. Feelings. There will be all the feelings. All of them.

I smile for a moment, thinking about my 20-something self of long ago, and her unyielding rage and cynicism, wrapping herself in emptiness saying “I feel nothing.” I laugh gently to myself from a perspective of greater understanding, years of experience, and think kindly “Oh, baby girl, you only feel too much. You’re drowning in the feelings. Stop fighting them. Just let go.” Her tears well up in my eyes and spill down my face many years too late for her to heal. I feel the feelings now – and that’s okay, too. It’s even more than okay; it’s enough. What a powerful thing, to feel. Healing takes time. I didn’t understand then how very much time that might be… a lifetime. A life of time. All the minutes I spent on healing – and all the minutes I spent fighting the work involved in that process – and all of the other minutes, too.

I’m still not done growing and learning. There always seems some bit more, just out ahead… How did I end up here, this morning? Thinking about Women’s History Month, actually. For Black History Month I read about black lives, in the words of black authors, about black life experiences I cannot fathom from my vantage point mired in white privilege.

To educate ourselves we have to step out of our comfort zone.

I do my best to learn and to grow and to be kind and to be understanding – which means learning some things, and exposing myself to discomfort. I read James Baldwin. I read Martin Luther King Jr. I read Malcolm X, which I first read at the tender age of 9; I understand it all quite differently at 53. Now here it is Women’s History Month and I caught myself giving it the brush off “I’m a woman myself… I already read books about women, by women… Nothing to see here…”. It isn’t the truth of my experience though, in a very important respect; I am only one women, living only one woman’s experience. (And by percentages, I don’t actually read that many books by women.) What about black women? What about Muslim women? What about immigrant women? What about women in science? What about incarcerated women? What about trans women? What about women living in dire poverty? What about women from countries and cultures I know nothing about at all? What about the meta and the metaphor of other women’s lives, experiences, and voices? How dare I look into the eyes of the woman in the mirror and assert a claim that I know enough – even about her?

However many books, however much experience; there is more to learn.

There is more to learn. Always more to learn. At no point as it ever been demonstrated that there is an end point to learning. 🙂

This weekend I’ll make a short reading list for March reading. Women’s words. Women’s lives. Women’s greatness. I’m eager to get farther along in our stories – will we change the world?

Tags and yet she persisted, are you going my way?, be the change, being and becoming, experience, here I stand naked and unafraid, I am my own cartographer, I am only one woman, I am woman, listening deeply, Mama Said, menopause, mindful living, mindful loving, mindfulness, mindfulness for beginners, mindfulness matters, Moving Beyond Words, p.s. I love you, perspective, practicing the practices, ptsd, Resist, Steinem, taking care of me, TBI, The Art of Being, the map is not the world, The Second Sex, there are verbs involved, walking my own path, what matters most?, Women's History Month, women's lives matter, words words words, yes I am a feminist, you don't tell me!

Categories Free Will, Logic & Reason, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Relationships, solo hiking, The Art of Being, The Big 5, women, Words

Neutral Gray Monday

February 27, 2017 //

If I were to paint the morning on canvas I would start with a neutral gray background. It’s just that sort of morning. Routine. Ordinary. Generally pleasant. Nothing driving any noteworthy stress – or delight. There are moments when I wonder if I’ve forgotten something I’ve committed to. Other moments when I feel fairly certain the morning is complete. The dangling loose ends of unfinished weekend conversations linger in my thoughts; some are emails I’ve not yet replied to, others are chats ended abruptly at the end of an evening or with a knock on the door. I sip my coffee and think about the world.

It’s a peculiar morning, lacking specific form or trajectory; the day could become anything at all. I’m okay with that. I make a second coffee, and consider the best ways to let the day unfold, unhindered by my expectations. I remind myself that I need to stop by the pharmacy for my Traveling Partner after work, and set an alarm and add a calendar event to see that I don’t overlook it.

I sip my coffee and wonder at the morning. I feel calm and content, and generally rested. There is nothing to object to about the start of the day, in any specific way. It’s all quite pleasant enough. The morning somehow fails to satisfy beyond basic satisfaction. I re-read that sentence and laugh at my monkey mind still reaching for “more”, after finding enough. I breathe and relax. I sip my coffee contentedly. I allow enough to be truly enough. No wonder human primates find their lives so difficult; we go looking for difficulties even when none exist in our experience of the moment. Silly primates.

I smile and put on my headphones, choosing to enjoy this moment, here, without further delay. It’s enough to change the moment… it is enough to change the world (in some very tiny, barely noticeable way, but still… there it is, changed).

Tags be here now, be the change, begin again, choose wisely, emotional self sufficiency, I am my own cartographer, meditation, mindful living, mindfulness, mindfulness for beginners, mindfulness matters, Monday Monday, perspective, practicing the practices, ptsd, sufficiency, taking care of me, TBI, The Art of Being, The Big 5, the map is not the world, there are verbs involved, what matters most?

Categories Brain Injury, Free Will, Healthy Living, Logic & Reason, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, solo hiking, The Art of Being, The Big 5, Words

Soft Gray Morning

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Sometimes There’s Bitter

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More of the Same Difference

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There is So Much More to Learn

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Neutral Gray Monday

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