Archives for posts with tag: mindfulness matters

My coffee is tasty. The house is comfortable in the pre-dawn chill of a summer morning. The air quality is still pretty poor as smoke collects in the air from distant fires. My mind is more or less… blank. I’m not quite awake yet, at all. I take another sip of my coffee and stare at the screen. It too remains “a blank page” for some minutes before I finally just drop that into the title field, and sit quietly, drinking coffee, aware.

This is not an unsatisfying moment. I am not feeling frustrated. (I chuckle as I write those words, immediately hearing my Traveling Partner’s voice replying in my head “Well, how are you feeling?”) I am feeling content. Just that. This moment does not seem to require more.

We create our experience with our choices, and our understanding of it is a carefully crafted narrative we make up ourselves, that may or may not accurately reflect the details of our experience (or any other – we’re seriously really good at making shit up and convincing ourselves it is real). This particular experience, here, now, is built on my choice to relax and accept that I may not have anything noteworthy to write about this morning, and to fall back gently on “just putting words on a page”, “thinking out loud”, in real-time, unedited and uncensored. I smirk at myself using the word “uncensored” in the context of this particular morning; there’s nothing about the morning thus far that would require, or benefit from, censorship anyway. 🙂

I’ve caused myself so much stress, anxiety, suffering, and heartache, just by insisting that I do more, faster, so often. The arbitrary performance standards we set for ourselves (and each other) often have no basis in what works, or what matters most. Sometimes they are just numbers pulled out of thin air. Why let life become stressful over made up shit? Seriously. Same with our internal narrative; we often make up a story about our experience that is based on untested assumptions, unvoiced expectations, and wholly unrealistic fantastical details that are in no way factual – then we let it stress us out. (Note: consider not doing that!)

This morning begins another work day. One more after that, and it’s the weekend again. 😀 I’m ready for it… but first, I have to live today, in this moment, present and engaged, and doing both things and stuff. lol Have to? Get to.

…It’s already time to begin, again. 😀

Wednesday. I’m already eager for the weekend ahead. I am thinking about the down and back drive to see my Traveling Partner this weekend. Different car. I try to remember why, exactly, I’m making the trip… and even though I do have a clear recollection that it is a purposeful journey, I don’t recall why I’m making it, beyond the pure joy of the drive, and a visit with this delightful human being I so adore. It is a source of mild amusement that I am eager to make the drive. I haven’t been, generally, aside from being eager to see my partner, always. It is in the context of the new car that I find my eagerness to make the drive, specifically… Which gets me thinking about context, generally.

I let my mind wander a bit, thinking over “context”. I don’t get anywhere particularly useful, today. I fall back on listening to the early morning commuter traffic begin to pick up, out there beyond my window. Yesterday’s commute, the first one in the new car, was… fine. It was just fine. It was fairly effortless, although still punctuated with occasional stupid bullshit (or at least decisions that appeared, from my vantage point, to be fairly stupid, probably bullshit, based on context), and I even found myself simply enjoying the drive. Does the car make that much difference on the quality of the journey? I guess it could – in a journey taken by car. lol

I sip my coffee and consider the day ahead. I do so a little reluctantly. I have some errands to take care of either during the day or after it ends, and somehow… I don’t feel like it. LOL I’d much rather laze about barefooted thinking about my “boyfriend” and enjoying summer. The work day ahead looms over my reluctant consciousness this morning. I am thinking about summer drives on country roads, and picnics, barbecues, and house parties. I am thinking about friends, and love, and joy. I am thinking about that feeling of liberation that I feel on a Friday evening, or a Saturday morning – no work, no school. If I could sort out the logistics, I would definitely take the rest of my adulthood off. LOL

The last swallow of coffee, another glance at the clock, in the context of an ordinary Wednesday morning. It’s time to begin again. I take a breath, which becomes a sigh. There will definitely be verbs involved – my results may vary. 😉

Change takes time. I mean, obviously when change is forced on us, some parts of change and changing, and certainly the requirement to do so, can hit us with real force in a very immediate way, no doubt about that. What I am pointing out is more that the skillful adaptation to change takes time. I roll with my changes as skillfully as I am able to, in the moment, but it does definitely take me some time to “get used to the new normal”. The experience of “change taking longer to get used to” is something I recognize as part of my TBI and the day-to-day realities of dealing with it, but it is also an experience most people likely have to one degree or another.

When I moved from the smaller apartment (#27) to the larger one right on the edge of the park (#59), the very specifically mirror-imaged kitchen messed with my head for months; I just kept clawing at the wrong side of the doorway for that damned light switch. It was the better part of a year before my brain finished making that change. Even with practice, some things change really slowly.

There’s a different car in my driveway this morning than there was 10 days ago. I was only getting started on getting used to commuting on transit, again. This morning, it’s back to commuting by car, but the car is different. This is no small thing, but it’s also no big deal. It’s both noteworthy and inconsequential. It likely will be somewhat different; the car handles quite differently. Sounds different. Feels different. Surrounds me differently. There are different features to learn. Different placement of some things, compared to the car I’ve been driving. Some things feel more natural than in the sedan. Other things feel quite strangely placed, as though the manufacturer “doesn’t know me at all”. (It’s mostly more comfortable and familiar-seeming than less, though, which is nice.) The new car is a first for me with this manufacturer, actually. A Mazda. Funny how much difference small changes make. They add up, too. It means driving very mindfully is a thing I need to make a point of for some time to come. I can’t really rely too heavily on implicit memory right now; I have none that applies to this vehicle. lol

One very telling thing? I regularly catch myself humming an old Queen song, “I’m In Love With My Car“,  when I am thinking about this car. lol It’s been awhile since I had a car that I felt that way about, myself. 🙂 I’m almost excited to drive to work today. For me, with the injury I have, that also means being very mindful and present is a huge thing, especially the first few weeks driving this car; it’s my one way to keep excitement from resulting in inattention or poor judgement, which can be a common enough result of being overly eager or excited about something, for me.  I’m definitely excited to be driving it. So… a good choice of vehicle? 🙂 I mean… it’s not a powerful luxury sedan (they tend to be a bit outside my comfort zone, and always feel sort of… huge), nor is it a fantastical beautiful sports car sort of machine (which, I’ll admit, I adore on this whole other level, but the driving of which bring out personality traits I don’t find are my best)…but, it’s every bit of the machine I find myself wanting most, day-to-day: nimble, quick, and capable of going where I want to go. I smile when I see it there in the driveway.

Some of the fun in life is about change. Every change is a new beginning. A “do over”. An opportunity to become more the person I most want to be. 🙂 I’m so glad I’m getting over this head cold, too; it’s already time to begin again. 🙂

Timing is a thing. It’s morning again. I’m rather aggressively slurping my coffee. There’s less time in the mornings, and I am feeling grateful that I started waking up at 4 am weeks ago (months?). I still get an hour for myself before it’s time for feet to hit pavement, and head to the bus that will take me to the office. I’m not complaining, just noting the change to my routine, and to my timing.

I exchange a few words with my Traveling Partner. I am very much missing him. I think about love for some little while. I try not to count the minutes. 🙂

The walk to the bus stop is easier each day as my body gets more used to it, and my brain gets re-calibrated to the time it takes to get to work. The commute is basically doubled in duration, in both directions, and the bus is crowded in the afternoon, on the way home. I’m not surprised by these things, they are merely characteristics of the new normal.

All the way home, each evening, I consider the things I am going to get done once I arrive. I get home too tired for any of that. This, too, is familiar. Yesterday evening was fairly skillfully done. I managed to stay fully on track with my self-care stuff, and even enjoyed the evening quietly before calling it an early night and getting some sleep. I slept through the night. I woke to the alarm. Getting up was harder than usual – I really wanted to sleep on. lol I tried to convince myself it is Saturday (it’s not; it is Wednesday) and almost went back to sleep. So unlike me.

Finally acknowledging, regularly and out loud, that I have been pushing myself too hard allows me to also admit I need more rest, like, seriously. I’m looking forward to sleeping in Saturday, in spite of knowing I’m likely to wake with the dawn, anyway.

There’s really nothing profound about any of this, and the common truth of life is that much of it is mundane, ordinary stuff, lacking in profundity or significance. A good night’s rest still matters, though. A good cup of coffee (if you’re into coffee) still satisfies. Routine is routine. Average is average. Ordinary is what most moments and days are made of – that’s not only “okay”; it provides the framework to understand the extraordinary, and recognize significance of moments that are indeed profound. This morning is not that. It’s just morning. That suits me just fine – it’s enough.

I smile quietly and swallow the last of my coffee, my eye on the clock. It’s already time to begin again. More verbs. My results may vary. 🙂

It feels good to be getting more miles on my feet, as I get used to commuting on public transit again. Well… I mean to say is that I feel the benefit of it, as the miles creep past ever so slowly, on feet that hurt, an ankle that chronically and fiercely aches, cane in hand, taking my time with it, making sure to breathe, and regularly reminding myself to correct my posture to a more fully upright gait. lol It’s complicated. I hurt. I do love walking though… I’ve missed it. The slow moment to collect my thoughts. The occasional lovely flower tucked here or there along the way. The scents of flowers and trees and the feeling of the breezes on my skin. All lovely. Hell, I don’t even mind when the rain comes, and I find myself walking in it. I’m okay with that. I’ve got a rain poncho tucked in my day pack. I’m ready.

Ready feels good.

Each day another journey.

Each day the walk to the bus stop feels easier. I am encouraged by that. I’m a tad irked with myself for letting my fitness, generally, fall behind a bit. Having a car made that way too easy, and living a life largely free of day-to-day OPD (Other People’s Drama), I failed to discover soon enough that often what pushed me out into the world to “walk it off” was indeed the need to escape drama or bullshit (my own or someone else’s turned out to be irrelevant). No drama or bullshit? No need to escape. A busy life, and the joy of so easily being able to hop in the car and “go farther” with such ease quickly resulted in driving more than walking, and walking turns out to be very much a “use it or lose it” sort of skill. Well… I’m back on my feet. lol

My feet hurt. I feel very mortal. lol

There are certain to be shitty mornings when I just can’t even. I haven’t sorted out what that looks like from this address, yet. The closest bus stop is about 200 ft away, but on a line that doesn’t begin running buses until much later in the morning that I generally leave for work. So, okay, maybe that means on a rough morning I start my work day later? That seems do-able. I smile and move on from that. It’s not a question that needs an answer this morning.

I sip my coffee and pull myself more fully upright again, noticing that the pain in my back (that I’ve had since yesterday) most definitely does not respond well to bad posture. It’s still fairly intense, sometimes taking my breath away if I forget about it in one moment, only to be reminded of it in the next when I move, or breathe, or… anything. Fucking hell. Aging sucks. What on earth did I do to get this result?? Rather oddly, I noticed on the bus ride last night, it seems to be associated with which direction my head is turned, and I found myself wondering if maybe I sat looking out the window to the right on the bus ride Saturday for too many hours…? I commit to trying to get a seat on the left side of the bus today to encourage left-side-looking… maybe I’ll find some relief.

I glance at the clock. New beginnings come a bit earlier on the bus. lol It’s already time to lace up these boots and begin again. Doesn’t much matter what’s aggravating me in this brief passing moment – I can walk it off. 😉